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

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

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

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

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  1. 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!
  2. 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 length 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 twenty-third of July and 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/
  3. 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/
  4. 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
  5. 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
  6. 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.
  7. 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)
  8. 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
  9. 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.
  10. 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
  11. 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?
  12. 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.
  13. Evan walked into the shop, famished after having just exhaled 40lbs of muscle into Hakeem. Now at 345lbs, he could feel his metabolism kicking into high gear as his muscle fiber started to repair itself, and incredibly, becoming even denser. Todd was behind the counter showing Andre around. Evan pulled up his t-shirt to show off his 12-pack abs, and Todd could tell the skin was pulled even tighter around the dense, heaving muscle. Evan dismissed Todd to the back room, and then told Andre to start mixing up some shakes. Evan downed the first one and could feel his muscle rebuilding as he fed it the rich protein. After the first shake, Andre and Evan readjusted the formula, making it even more protein-packed. After downing the eighth shake, Evan could feel himself returning to normal. “That’s the right recipe Andre. Memorize it for me.” “That last shake alone contained almost 3,000 calories, and 75grams of protein. I’ve never seen anyone eat like that before,” said Andre. “Well, you’ve never met anyone like me before Andre.” And with that, Evan pulled his shirt over his wide shoulders and dropped it to the floor. He casually tensed his muscles as Andre tried to take in all of the 6’ 6” Asian muscle god. After a minute of silence, Evan balled up his massive hand into a fist, and slammed it hard right into his own abs. The thunderous clapped rang in Andre’s ears. “This is power, Andre,” was all Evan had to say: he knew Andre had serious potential, and that he was now an unquestioned disciple. “Your shakes are helping me get bigger, and I can do the same for you. Todd will write you up a training plan, and you seem to know the nutrition side pretty well. Just follow it all, and you will see a change. “Yes Evan, I want to get bigger. Anything you tell me to do,” said Andre, with surprising confidence in his voice. “First thing, we have to drum up some more business for this shop.” With that, the still-shirtless Evan walked out the front door of the shop. Evan saw four college football jocks were walking up the street, and he walked to the empty, bricked-up storefront next door. He turned his back to the jocks, but he knew their eyes were fixed on his massive frame. “I bought this building, Andre. It’s going to be a new CrossFit gym. And then I’ll connect it right to the smoothie shop, guaranteeing a steady stream of hungry athletes who want to grow.” Evan knew the jocks were hanging on his every word, and closely eyeing his massive back. Then he raised his massive hand and slammed it into the brick storefront. Everyone held their breath for a minute, as they listened to the masonry starting to creak. Then the entire front brick façade collapsed. “Holy shit,” Evan could hear one of the jocks saying, “he just knocked down that whole wall.” Evan turned around, with a friendly smile, and greeted the jocks. “Hey guys, well this is the official groundbreaking for my new CrossFit gym. You should come give it a try.” Evan watched as they jealously assessed his massive physique. “Oh we also have a smoothie shop next door, in case you need to supplement your training.” One of the jocks stepped forward, with conviction, and firmly shook Evan’s hand. “Hi, I’m Joe. I’m interested in joining. If I can get abs like yours,” he said, and Evan knew he wasn’t joking. Joe stood 5’ 10” feet tall and weighed about 180lbs. He was athletic and defined, but still looked lean. He was the smallest of the four jocks, and Evan could sense he was hungry to put on some mass. Andre stepped out from behind Evan and said, “Well come into the shop for a smoothie, all of you guys. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” Evan was very impressed with his initiative. Over the next 30 minutes, Evan watched Andre closely: he was interacting very well with the jocks, and was a natural salesman for the shop. Evan was very impressed with his leadership. The jocks all downed Andre’s shakes eagerly, as they excitedly talked the new CrossFit gym. Evan knew that the shakes would only have a modest impact on them, as they lacked his superior genetics. But once they started to work out together, they would have some remarkable growth. As they filed out of the store, Joe walked over the Evan and gave him a friendly fist bump. “Will this stuff, and the gym, really work?” Joe asked Evan. “I’m a hard gainer, been trying to put on some size to keep up with the rest of the team. Andre says you really know what you are doing.” Joe kept glancing down at Evan’s rock hard abs, barely able to conceal his envy. “Just keep coming back, Joe. I guarantee, your shirts will start to feel and look tighter in days. And take one for the road,” Evan said, smiling, and he shouted over to Andre to make Joe another shake. “Make it extra dense for Joe.” Joe took the shake and left. “You are learning really fast, Andre. I’m impressed.” “Thanks Evan. I just want to show you….” And his voice started to waver. “No one has ever taken an interest in me.” Evan looked down at Andre, at 5’ 7”, and a doughy 155lbs. I think he’s ready now, Evan thought to himself. I’ll just give his training a kick-start. And with that, Evan reached down, clasped the back of Andre’s neck, and opened his mouth wide. Unlike Hakeem, who saw terror when Evan did that, Andre was completely relaxed. He looked up at the Asian muscle god, still not knowing what was happening, but instinctively opened his mouth as he gripped Evan’s solid forearms. And then Evan started to breath into Andre’s lungs. Slowly, at first, not wanting to overwhelm him. Within about a minute, Andre’s body was in a state of euphoria as Evan’s muscle fibers started to invade his bloodstream and bond with his own. Andre was vaguely aware of the baby fat that started to quickly melt off, as his heart rate slowed down. Evan could feel Andre lighten up in his grip, then started to exhale even harder, kicking off a muscle-growth cycle. Evan continued to breath slowly, as Andre held onto him, tightly, absorbing all the new muscle fibers. Remarkably, Andre’s muscle fibers interconnected with Evan’s almost seamlessly, and the rate of growth picked up. Evan could feel Andre’s neck start to thicken, and then his traps, and he had to readjust his grip. He could feel Andre getting much denser. After about four minutes, Andre’s heart started to beat faster, and his newly muscled body tightened up. Still in a state of euphoria, Andre managed to slide his hand up to the back of Evan’s neck and he applied his own newfound grip strength to keep Evan from pulling off too soon. To Evan’s surprise, Andre inhaled deeply, almost magnetically pulling in more of Evan’s muscle fibers. Andre wasn’t just passively receiving Evan’s muscle fibers, he was able to inhale it on his own. After another two minutes, Evan broke the spell and stepped back. Andre gasped deep, but did not stagger back at all: he was well aware of his core strength, and stood erect. He blinked, then pulled off his eyeglasses and tossed them aside. Evan admired his work: Andre now stood at an impressive 6’ 1”, and carrying a solid 215lbs of prime, superior muscle. His shoulders were wide and thick, and he looked down at his huge chest and biceps, now straining his t-shirt. He pulled up his shirt to reveal a solidly defined 6-pack of abs, pulsing under the tight skin. Then he raised his arm as he studied it closely, impressed with the thickness of his forearm, and balled it into a fist. He wasn’t the least bit startled when his softball sized bicep swole up as well. “This is awesome,” he said, in a deep and powerful voice. Andre wasn’t the least bit surprised at his transformation. In fact, he acted like it was inevitable. “I have to try out this new muscle Evan.” With that, Evan smiled and clenched his formidable 12-pack. He didn’t have to say a word: Andre stepped forward, pulled his fist back and let it fly with incredible force at Evan’s mid-section. The impact cracked a sound like two metal objects crashing head on. Evan barely felt the impact, and didn’t flinch at all. But neither did Andre, who looked dead into Evan’s eyes with greed.
  14. Grandpa's Curse

    This story can also be viewed with morphed images done by me at my blog: http://malebodyexchange.blogspot.com/2017/03/grandpas-curse.html I am considering doing a longer story based in the same universe, but with different characters. Would love to hear input because I haven't seen this idea done too much before. Ryan looked longingly at the photo of himself from just a few weeks ago. He was only 20. He had everything going for him. He tried not to shed a tear. His arms. His chest. His perfect abs. And it was all gone. Everything was all gone. He had avoided all his friends. He had not gone to school. Every day was agony. And his grandfather was responsible for all of it.Three weeks ago...Grandpa Harold was a tough man to please. He was rich and powerful and he was worst of all, vengeful. As an almost billionaire, he ran about 20 different corporations under the umbrella of his own and he paid for what he wanted, including a hot young wife only a little older than Ryan. It was shocking to the family but Ryan was told to say nothing about it. And he didn't for a long time, even those Celeste gave him a longing look whenever he came to visit. Grandpa met him one day with his own unhappy look. He took Ryan to a nice restaurant and told him that he was meeting with some incredibly powerful people. Ryan thought he meant businessmen but Grandpa Harold said no no, these are...people you can't look up on the internet. I have paid a fortune just to find them. I want to have a more youthful body and I think I can pay for it. Ryan immediately thought someone was trying to pull one over on his Grandpa but Grandpa dismissed him."There are powerful people in the world who only very rich people know about and they like to remain hidden. They have their reasons. They have used their talents for certain friends of mine. Let's just say I have reason to be happy about this but I'm also a little worried. I suppose it's just nerves, is all. Well, you know what. Cheers. I think it's going to be the best decision I ever made."Grandpa was a little hesitant to give details and Ryan was incredibly skeptical. He spent that night in the mansion and Grandpa went out for a consultation. That was when it happened. Celeste came into his room and one thing led to another and he was fucking her like crazy on his large guest bed. She screamed with pleasure as he filled her up. Grandpa couldn't fill up a girl like this anymore, he thought cruelly. Shouldn't even try. I'm young and he thinks he can be young like me again? He'll be dead soon and this will all me mine. All this hot piece of ass if I want it, too. Fuck yeah! FUCK! He used Celeste four times in a row before she went crazy and fled. Said she had to make sure no one noticed she was in his room.Ryan contacted me weeks later telling me the details of this story. And he told me about how after that he was awoken in the middle of the night by unknown assailants who shoved a needle in his arm, took him to a secret location and kept him there for days and he had been out of school for three weeks now.He told me frantically he couldn't trust anyone. He said they did things to him. He was disfigured he said. Couldn't even go outside with a shirt off. He left me a drunken message where he started crying and was unintelligible. He invited me over to the mansion. He said maybe I could help him. He was talking through his tears about how Grandpa took his body away from him. It made no sense.When I arrived I didn't know what to think. Maybe my friend was having a breakdown. Ryan met me in the far side of one of the outside gardens. One of the butlers led me there with a strange, apprehensive look on his face. I noticed it one of the maids as well. Something told me that not to many people had been to the house lately.Ryan was wearing a heavy sweater which made no sense for the hot weather we were having. He was drinking, and he sullenly looked up at me."You know how I looked, right? I fucking looked like a real man.""Dude, what are you talking about? You're like the most jacked guy I know. You're way hotter than I am. Or like half our team." We both were on the rowing team. I know, it's preppy and elitist and that's because hey, we're rich."You don't understand, man." he started sobbing. "My grandfather is so rich he found people that know magic. Like real magic. And he caught me with his wife. I don't know why I fucked her, man. I just did. I couldn't help myself. She was so hot.""You fucked your stepmom. Or stepgrandma?? Gross!""Dude, she's 22 and smoking fucking hot!""Oh. Well that's still gross, just for different reasons. Yeah I forgot about your grandpa doing that. Good for him I guess but he didn't find out, right? Did that bitch tell him?" I was so mad for him, and mad AT him at the same time.""No, man. One of the maid spied on her, and he paid her big time to do it. And he said he never expected it from me, he said she was supposed to keep an eye out for like the pool boy and shit. Fuck me. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck I woke up and I was in this place and they strapped me down and cut me and I bled all over and they had these weird knives and masks and shit...it was so fucking scary I thought I was gonna die. And they were chanting and shit and I got all dizzy and Grandpa was there and they put my blood in a cup and he fucking DRANK it! I couldn't fucking believe it and when I woke up I was like..this!" He started crying.A shiver ran down my spine. "Like...what?""Like this, ok!" He took off the sweater and the undershirt and I gasped. I couldn't believe what I was seeing."This...this isn't possible," I muttered. "Just look at me. LOOK AT ME I'M A FUCKING FREAK SHOW MAN! I have THIS." He held onto his flabby giant love handle and gut. I have fucking MAN BOOBS dude..I just...wanna fucking kill myself.""No! No don't do that. Hey. Man, dry your tears, ok? I don't think you look that bad. I mean I never told you this but I actually think...I always thought you looked really hot.""Thanks, man. I guess." He sniffed. He wasn't gay and I wanted to just hold him."Stand up. Please.""You gotta talk to him for me, man. You gotta talk him into giving me my body back. He's got it. He looks fucking amazing with my body." Ryan sniffed with his hand to his nose. I walked over to him and put my hand on his gut."I don't know if this helps but, I think you're sexy. I think your face is sexy and I think your body is sexy, too." And then I cracked up."Fuck you." he muttered."I'm just kidding, dude. You look great. For a freak show, I mean when you join the circus the kids will love you, just keep your fucking shirt on!"Ryan roared and tried to chase me. He did so for several seconds and then stopped. The all star runner heaving to and fro on the green. Panting like an old man. I started laughing."Fuck you I'm gonna get you!" He started running and had to stop. I laughed as I jogged before him."Come on, old man. Try and catch me! God, you are so out of shape now, dude! Hahahahahahhaha!"You may think this is cruel but Ryan made plenty of jokes at my expense and I knew for a fact he kept me from being captain of the team because he outed me "by accident". He also made several passes at me at various times when he was drunk because he always wondered what it would be like to "get sucked off by another dude" and then he freaked out when I began to suck his cock. He couldn't handle the part of him that really was gay. Our friendship was not exactly what you would call even. He was always embarrassing me in front of my gay friends by making gay jokes. It was a little overboard. He was really trying not to be thought of as gay. I really got angry with him though, because he tried to come on to my last boyfriend just to prove he could attract any guy or girl he wanted to. Fucking jerk, That actually hurt me. It hurt me to see him leave with Steve only to pull the same bullshit with him. Oh I am just not ready to get sucked off by a dude. Yeah, you just want attention, Well now you got it, jackass!I told him I'd be back in the dorms and if he got desperate enough, he could suck me off. Maybe then I'd consider going to talk to his grandfather on his own behalf. I did meet the old man on my way out and holy fuck. HOLY FUCK! "It's Andrew, right? Ryan's friend!""Holy shit, it's true. You took his body. That's so fucking...awesome!""Yeah it is, isn't it? I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to go around blabbing about this. I know people and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.""Dude, I am sort of enjoying this to be honest. I mean, this is some freaky ass shit, but..." I explained my situation to the old man and he laughed."Of course. So he just fucks everyone else over. No one can be happy but him.""He wants me to talk you into helping him.""I'm teaching him a lesson in humility Would that we could walk in the shoes of others. Well now I'm walking in his body and it feels pretty FUCKING great. I am in charge of who gets to come into this house, you know. I approved you to be let in. I have something to talk to you about. I think my grandson is bisexual. I have this body and I gotta tell you, I fucked my wife so hard her pussy nearly fell out but I am not really satisfied if you know what I mean. And your story makes sense. I think my grandson likes girls but he likes boys better. I mainly pictured boys when I was fucking my wife. And you know I'm so old I don't give a fuck what she wants. She signed a prenup. So uh, I guess what I'm saying is, would you like to come upstairs and fool around? I am almost a billionaire.""FUCK YEAH!" I should have tried to play coy but who am I kidding. My friend's grandpa was HOT AS HELL! I was in heaven. He carried me upstairs. Said it gave him quite a thrill. I was in daddy heaven. I felt up the body I'd dreamed about for years!We're still figuring out what to do with Ryan. I am on a first name basis with Harold and quite frankly, Celeste is out and I'm in. As Ryan's soon to be step-grandfather I would just like to point out that taking the semester off has been good for him. I am living in the lap of luxury and enjoying every minute of being fucked my Harold, who gets along with me so much better than that stupid bitch he married. And we have plans for Ryan. He's seeing a therapist paid off handsomely to never discuss this particular problem with anyone. He's a little less depressed. Still wearing heavy clothing outside in public if he ever goes out, which is rare. If he's very good, and I mean very very good, we'll give him another new young body,. In about five years...magic isn't cheap, you know.
  15. Symbiotic Bonding - Part 04

    Previous Parts can be found here: - Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Now here is the long awaited Part 04... Part 04 Want Me, Want You Matt pulled Andrew’s warm body into his larger frame. He felt the need to be protective over his much smaller twin. He stared at the TV blankly, not really interested in what was playing on the screen, but more interested in what happened at the gym. After his workout. That shower encounter with Dan. It was frightening and the thought of Dan getting his large paws on him after he grew to epic proportions was making Matt even more fearful. Matt looked down at Andrew, noticing the new muscles on his smaller twin brother. Even thin, the muscles definitely stuck out with great curves and definition for his smaller size. The muscle on Andrew though, just thinking about it gave Matt a feeling of comfort. He slowly closed his eyes and drifted slowly to sleep. *** Dan and Andrew appear before Matt as he stared up at them from his spot on the couch. Both his brother and rival stood in front of him, but Andrew looks much different. He is massive, built like a tank. Both of them with huge giant cocks that were fully hard and being stroked over him. They are so large they literally cast a shadow over the tiny Matt. Matt tries to stand up. He’s fearful of what is about to come, but his legs won’t move. With a smirk on their faces, both large men reach down for Matt and grab him around the throat… *** Matt suddenly jerks awake from the nightmare that was about to unfold. He looks around the room for a moment before looking down and seeing his smaller twin still sleeping by his side. He also notices his own cock is once again tenting visibly in his shorts. Things begin to click in his head; something very strange is going on. If it wasn’t for his cock being a huge distraction, he might even be able to figure out what it might be. Andrew begins to stir awake, stretching his arms out, noticing the hard cock pressing out underneath the fabric of his brothers shorts. They were stretched out into a very large tent. “Hey there, big guy,” Andrew looked up at his brother, sleep still in his eyes. Andrew’s own cock was hard as well, its 5 inches pushing against his tight bathing suit trunks. “You look worried still. Something is not right with you.” Andrew reaches out to touch the highest point of Matt’s tented shorts where a big spot of pre-cum was beginning to form. He moves his hands across the top, making Matt moan a bit before moving his fingers into his mouth to taste his larger bro. Andrew noticed there was nothing to taste, Matt noticed the spot was completely dry where his brother was just touching. Matt looks over his brother. His mouth opening in shock and awe as the blonde hairs on Andrew’s arms and legs began to darken, more and more, until they took on a black color like the hair on his head. Andrew grunts a bit, clutching his stomach for a second. When he moves his hand Matt sees another change, the deep cuts of his 4-pack have now taken on a much more cut look. Four true bricks popped prominently out of his smaller brother’s skin and he wasn’t even flexing them. “You can tell me anything, Matt,” Andrew gazed back up at his brother. “We’re twins. You protected me when you kept on growing. Can’t I protect you, Matt?” “I just had a weird dream, that’s all.” Matt looked down at Andrew bashfully, not sure if he really should say just how weird it was. He felt a bit awkward after Andrew pressed his finger against the wet spot on his shorts, taking his pre into his mouth and watching it completely disappear. Matt noticed his smaller bros own tenting swimwear. Reaching over and grabbing the waistband, he slowly pushes Andrews’s shorts down slightly, just enough for his five inches to bounce free and straight up. “Right now, it looks like you’re the one who could use some help, Andrew.” Matt reaches down and rubs his brothers balls gently, the small orbs rolling around in his finger as he watches Andrew’s cock rise a bit higher as his arousal increases. He slowly moves his and up the shaft, pinching the cockhead, causing a bit of clear pre to seep out of it. Matt brushes the pre off with a fingertip, bringing it to his own lips, before pushing his finger into his mouth. Andrew looks up at Matt. Seeing the finger go into his brother’s mouth was a turn on, but something else was happening. As he continued to watch, Matt’s beard was beginning to get thinner. The hair on his arms and legs began to get a bit less dark. Andrew watched and began to get a bit excited at the sight of this. He reached out to Matt’s shorts, pulling them down, watching his brother’s huge cock finally emerge, free and hard. He was being drawn to the bubbling hot cum emerging from his larger brother’s piss slit and could practically taste the sweet pre-nectar. Matt continued to stroke Andrew, and although Andrew was so fascinated with Matt’s impressive display, the attention Matt was giving him still brought his attention back to himself as he let out a moan of pleasure. Andrew reached forward as his brother continued stroking, touching Matt’s cock juice and scooping up a good amount, bringing it to his lips, tasting it. As soon as it touched, hair began to push out of the pores of Andrew’s underarms; large tufts of hair erupting out of his pits, thickening more and more. Going south down his body, a trail began to grow out of his pubic bush, going straight out of his waist line and attaching itself to his belly button as the start of a treasure trail formed on his body. Andrew lifts himself up a bit, pressing his lips to his brothers as he kissed him as best as his smaller body could with a strong hand still gripping and stroking his cock tightly. “I fucking love you, Matt.” Andrew rubs the side of his cheek against Matt’s bull neck, a slight bit of course skin from him makes Matt shudder and excited as he realizes Andrew has the beginning of stubble forming on his face. Matt growls, pulling Andrew against his body with one hand, using his free hand to continue to grip Andrew’s hard dick. “I love you too, Andrew.” Matt takes one long breath, letting out a low groan of pleasure as Andrew’s stubble continues to rub against his thick neck, driving him even wilder. Matt’s dick surges in Andrew’s hand, rock hard and throbbing; yet it’s not as big as it was before. Although it could be that Andrew has a bit of a better grip on his cock. Matt bends down a bit, bringing his lips down to his brother this time; they slowly kiss, letting the passion smolder hot and low. Matt begins to slowly make his larger hand rise and fall on his brothers cock, feeling Andrew quiver from the hand job he was giving him. Matt reaches over and grabs Andrew by the hips with both of his hands, pulling his smaller brother up onto his lap. Both of their dicks rubbing together; the pre cum from both of them mixing as they kissed. A weird sensation begins to fill both of them as they look on at each other, both of their bodies begin to show differences. Hair begins to rise out of Andrew’s skin more, traveling up his small set of abs and beginning to branch up to his chest. The hair begins to swirl across each pec muscle; its light, but he more contact he has with Matt, the darker and darker it begins to change as the precum continues to flow from each of their hard dripping cocks. For Matt, the changes are the opposite. It almost looks like he has begun to start shaving his fur to make his muscles look bigger. The hair begins to thin out and starts retreating in some places right back through his pores as if the hair was never there. As he continues to watch his chest hair disappear, he gives another glance at Andrew and notices wisps of hair beginning to sprout on his twins chin. Andrew feels the sensation too, scratching at his face, feeling more and more tiny hairs begin to sprout outward and get coarser. Andrew looks up at Matt, seeing his brother’s facial hair begin to slowly retract away as well. “We need to stop, Matt.” He tries to pull away, but Matt is almost entranced by his brother’s changes, holding onto Andrew even tighter. “Mmm… Fuck no, Andrew,” Matt growled, wrapping a huge arm around him, keeping his brother in place as he looks on at the new developing beard thickening on his smaller twin, growing denser and more noticeable with each passing second. Matt is getting more and more turned on watching Andrew becoming increasingly more manly and studly. “I want you so bad, Andrew.” Matt rolls both of them over so that Andrew is on the couch and he is right on top of him, his huge body pinning his twin in place, still much more massive then him. Matt leans down, kissing Andrew’s neck… his collarbone… his chest… and his abs, slowly sliding off down off the couch to kneel in front of his smaller brother. Matt rubs his jaw against Andrew’s thighs, and Andrew notices how Matt’s course beard and stubble are almost none existent; there is no rough and bristly sensation like there should be with a man that has had some kind of beard growth before, they are almost soft by comparison, Matt leans in and gives Andrew’s shaft a few experimental licks, then pulls down Andrew’s swim trunks down a bit further to get access to his balls. Matt licks at them a few times, kissing them, sucking on them, pressing against them with his tongue. Matt takes a quick look up at Andrew and breathes in his scent, sitting there with his legs spread, a new musk permeating from his brothers loins and races up into his nostrils. Matt’s eyes open wider with aroused delight. “Stop? Why would I stop? Are you telling me you don’t like it when I do this?” Matt kisses one of Andrew’s testicles, “or this?” he licks the other one, “or even this?” he runs his tongue up the sensitive underside of Andrew’s shaft, then kisses the cockhead, his tongue darting out to lap up a bit more of the pre-cum bubbling out of the tip. Andrew watches on as the last traces of beard retreat away from Matt’s face. All that remains is his sideburns. Andrew watches, more shocked than ever. The guy who was once the manliest looking man he had ever seen was almost now completely hairless from the nose down. Andrew reaches over and grabs Matt’s jock strap; it’s completely soaked with pre-cum. Or it was, as in a matter of seconds, it’s completely dry. “Oh, fuck!” Andrew looks down at Matt, as Matt gazes up at him. A new lust bleeding out of Matt for Andrew as Andrew’s masculine identity intensifies and it begins to almost pulse off him and pull Matt right back into him. Andrew’s cock begins to get harder than it has ever been. “Well, that answer’s that, doesn’t it?” Matt smirks, moving forward. He engulfs Andrew’s cockhead with his mouth, moving slowly down the hard shaft, until his face hits the new forest of pubes around the base of his brother’s cock. He continues to push forward, not stopping until the tip of his nose touches Andrew’s torso. He then begins to bob up and down on his dick, his huge muscles tensing under his shirt as he blows Andrew as if his life depended on it. Matt runs his hand along Andrew’s thighs, massaging them gently, noting that they seem just a bit sturdier than he last remembered. Andrew just sits back as Matt sucks on his hard shaft. He reaches a hand shakily toward his brother. Matt looks up and sees his arm moving, and he grabs it, placing Andrew’s hand onto the back of his head. Matt smirks a bit like ‘Fuck yeah, little bro! Take charge!’ Andrew swallows the lump in his throat, a bit more at ease as he watches Matt’s head move back and forth along his cock and his own hand rubbing along the top of his brother’s head with the motion, his fingers moving through Matt’s hair as he felt himself getting closer and closer to climax. “Matt… Nnnn…” Andrew begins to grunt a bit. “Fuck, it feels so good…” Andrew reaches his other hand out and places it also on the back of Matt’s head, assisting him a bit more with his blow job. As Matt begins to pull back, Andrew pulls him back towards his deep musky bush of pubes. Matt enjoys the feeling, Andrew pulling him downward onto his dick as he continues to push and thrust his hips up to meet Matt’s face, driving his dick right down his throat. Matt relaxes, letting Andrew guide him, move him, use him as a tool for his own pleasure. The whole time, he wants Andrew to do all of that, to fuck his face with his blossoming manly cock. Matt distantly realizing that’s a very submissive thing to think, and not at all like how he usually is. But right here, right now, at this moment, it seems like the most natural and perfect thing imaginable. So he maintains his suction on Andrew’s dick as best as he can, while letting his twin pull his head back and forth, forcing him down on his cock. Andrew moans deeply, feeling something inside of his ball sack, unlike anything he has ever felt before beginning to build up and radiate from within. He looks down at Matt, moving his hands away from his head for a second to let Matt get a glance at him. Matt still continues to suck though, waiting for his reward. “Matt…. Ahh Fuck… You want this right?” Andrew’s balls begin to churn and ache, but he can’t release just let; something inside is holding it back. “Please Mat…” They begin to pull up; he feels as if the cum is beginning to creep and pump into his shaft, ready to explode outward into his brother’s waiting throat… “Want… Me…” Matt breathes for just a second, just long enough to say, “Want you so bad, Andrew,” before plunging back down onto his brother’s dick, taking the whole five inches in one go, pressing his nose deep into his bush, into the flesh of Andrew’s torso. He can feel Andrew’s dick shaking, quivering, and trembling. He knows his twin is about to explode. Using his tongue, he teases the underside of the shaft, sucking stronger than ever, eager to pull Andrew’s cum right out of his shaft if he has to. Andrew’s hands go right back to the back of Matt’s head. He pushes himself forward, almost leaping off of the couch and knocking Matt over, but Matt makes sure to hold on tight as Andrew presses his pubic bone as far as he could up against Matt’s face. His cock lurching round Matt’s lips, in his mouth, down his throat as he fires the first salvo down into his brother’s waiting belly. Matt has no time to swallow as a second blast fires into his mouth, coating his tongue, followed by a third, a forth… Matt loses count, not knowing when it will stop as he continues to try to swallow it all. In the meantime Matt’s body is undergoing another de-metamorphosis. His muscles begin to shrink in size at a steady rate. Andrew’s cock becoming a bit harder to suck as his body shifts on the floor, losing another inch in height, and then another. Matt begins to see what’s going on, and pushes Andrew off of him. His body shifting more and more laying on the carpet, yet he’s not even moving at all. Matt looks up at Andrew, finding his twin’s eyes. He’s just as scared as Andrew is now. Things are different, and will continue to be from now on. Matt feels weak, and right before he blacks out he hears the calming sounds of Andrew’s voice. “I’m so sorry Matt…” To Be Continued… Coming Soon Part 05: The Experiment
  16. The muscle frat (7)

    Seven The next day Sean put his plan to take control of the Dexameni-frat in action. He looked up Keith in his room in the nearly deserted frat house. The now 85 pound swim captain quickly realized he could no longer lead the frat with the top athletes. He agreed to back Sean's candidacy and called a meeting. Brad and Brock were in the gym as their cell phones vibrated simultaneously. Brad grabbed his phone and read the text. "Special frat meeting in two days", he said. "Got it too", Brock peeped back in his high-pitched voice, "what could it be?". "We'll see", Brad replied, "Come on, B. Back to work to build back yar muscles". Two days later all the members of the frat gathered in the frat house. Brad was ready for the meeting, but Brock kept stalling. "Come on, buddy. Meeting starts in five", Brad said to encourage his friend. "I'm not going", Brock answered. "What? Why?", Brad asked incredulously. "I can't stand bare-chested between the most muscular guys on campus. I used to be the biggest of them all. Now, I'm nothing", Brock peeped. "Come on, man", Brad said and put his hand on his small friend's bony shoulder to comfort him, "Ya're still the same guy, with or without yar muscles. Everyone likes ya". Brock put his frail hand atop his buddy's warm hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, but I'm not ready for the confrontation. Tell them I'm sick, will you?", he asked. "Sure?", Brad stated. Brock nodded 'yes'. "Catch ya later, B.", Brad said and left their room. He joined his fellow brothers in the large room where he had been initiated. He took his place in the semicircle in front of the wooden chair leading up to the throne. He looked aside and took in the faces of his 18 brothers: only Brock and Sean were missing. A hint of pride flowed through his 185 pound body as he compared his bare torso to those of his brothers: he was amidst the bigger and most jacked guys in the room. A cough made him and the others look up. Next to the throne atop the stairs, a frail figure appeared. The diminished Keith stepped in front of the throne and looked down at the frat members. "Brothers", he peeped in a girlish voice, "A strange illness has made me lose most of my mass. Doctor told me I have to be checked to make sure it's nothing contagious. Off course, I won't be able to swim anymore and therefore can't be leader of the noble Dexameni house…" A mild whisper rose from the frat members at these words. "Brothers", Keith peeped, his voice barely any louder than the whispers, "Brothers, please… As my final act as frat leader I have chosen my successor. The only one worthy of leading our noble Dexameni frat. An important member of the football team…" A wave of warmth came over Brad and his heartbeat went up as he heard these words. "This can only be me", he thought. A small smile formed on his lips. "SEAN" What felt like an icy rain replaced Brad's feeling of pride. Instead of him, the biggest asshole on the football team would now lead their frat. He noticed his brothers looking at each other and gently talking about this surprise. Their talking ended abruptly and all of them looked up at the throne. Sean's muscular form appeared next to Keith, a smug grin on his face as he looked down. Brad could have sworn that Sean looked bigger than before, but realized that everyone in the room would look massive standing next to the boyish Keith. The wooden robe Sean was wearing as the new frat leader completely hid his body, only his wide shoulders formed a strong line beneath the baggy fabric. "SILENCE!" Sean's booming, deep baritone resounded through the room and silenced everyone. Sean installed himself on the throne, nodding at Keith who slowly descended the stairs and left the frat house. "Brothers", Sean said, "the Dexameni frat has always been the most exclusive on campus. Assembling only the best athletes of our university. An elite group of the biggest men!". "Yeah!", the frat members howled in unison. Some even threw a double bicep pose. "Therefore", Sean continued, "I present you our newest brother : Tristan". All the frat members looked to their right as a door opened and a truly massive figure strutted into the room. They followed his movements as the figure slowly moved from the shadows into the light. A gasp of disbelief escaped the 18 frat members as Tristan stopped in the center of the room and faced them. Brad's eyes widened to the size of saucers as he gazed at his bare-chested younger brother. His brother was not only the tallest guy in the room, but also the broadest: he was twice as wide as the biggest frat member. His massive arms, masses of hard meat crisscrossed with thick veins, hung relaxed from his cannonball-sized shoulders; his heavy pecs heaved up and down with every breath he took and protruded proudly from his chest as they obscured the top of his deeply grooved eight-pack. Brad felt a tingle go through his cock and looked up at his brother's squared face that oozed masculinity with his five o'clock-beard. A smug grin formed on Tristan's face as he took in the reaction of the frat members. His brother looked up into his dark brown eyes and he returned the stare, noting the mixture of awe and unease. He turned around and looked up at Sean, slowly climbing the stairs as he was motioned to come up. Brad and his frat brothers drank in the sight of Tristan's insanely wide back, where the mounds of muscle flowed into each other. Two faint moans escaped some of the frat members, but Brad couldn't tell where they came from. Tristan stopped next to the throne and turned around to face the frat members. He folded his meaty arms in front of him, making his huge biceps dig into his protruding, striated chest. He kept looking directly into his brother's eyes. "Welcome, Tristan", Sean said officially, "You'll be the gatekeeper of the Dexameni frat house! Brothers, decline has slipped into our ranks these past years. Under my rule, our frat will return to its origin. From today on, the ancient ways are back: only the top athlete from a sport is welcome to join the Dexameni frat…" A murmur went through the frat members as they realized the meaning of Sean's words: most of them were teammates of the major sports played at Orchid University. "This can't be true", someone said. "SILENCE!", Sean bellowed deeply and instantly shut up the frat members. "Go stand together with those that play the same sport." Six groups were formed in silence. The wrestlers were the first ones to have to step to the center of the room. Five of the highest ranked state wrestlers, three of them the absolute star of their weight class, formed a line in front of the wooden stair at the base of Sean's throne. The difference between them was obvious: the 220 pound heavy weight champ dwarfed the others and was allowed to stay. Tristan slowly descended the stairs and lead the cast outs away, touching every one of them to check if he could drain their muscle. Not feeling the awaited tingling sensation, he quickly chased them away and returned to congratulate the winner. Even with the 220 pound wrestler, he didn't feel the tingle. Sean repeated the process with the other athletes until only the football players were left. He motioned them to step to the center of the room. Brad glanced at his two teammates and knew it was a close call: the three of them looked like brothers. Sean stared at his three fellow football players. "Where's Brock?", he asked and looked at Brad. "He's not feeling well", Brad replied spontaneously. "Sick or not, he's the biggest guy the house. Euhr… I mean second biggest guy", he said and pointed at Tristan, "So the three of you have to leave!". "But…", Brad mumbled. "Something to add?", Sean asked. "I…", Brad began but he realized he had agreed with Brock not to say anything about his new diminished size. He nodded 'no' and saw his beastly brother move towards them. The other football players decided to put up a fight, but he saw his brother toss them atop his wide shoulder like they were feathers and carry them out. "Okay, I'll go", he said and left the house while his brother threw the 180 pound guys through the air. "Now, we truly are the elite", Sean said to the remaining frat members, "the biggest men on campus. Let's party!". The six athletes went to the bar while Sean motioned Tristan to come over. "And?", he asked. "Nothing with none of them. My brother slipped out without being touched though", Tristan replied. "Mhm. We'll see about that later. Let's have a drink", Sean replied and joined his six frat brothers. They were all impressed with Tristan's godly physique and as the alcohol flowed they began horsing around. The heavy weight wrestler challenged Tristan for a fight, but the beastly teen simply grabbed the 220 pound wrestler's armpits and effortlessly lifted him from the floor. "Fuck, you're strong", the wrestler said as he was put back down, "What team are you on? Haven't seen you around here". "I'm just visiting for the holidays. Dropped out of high school when I turned 18 last month", Tristan answered. "You're only 18?! I'm 21 and you dwarf me like I'm a runt. And I'm the biggest guy on the wrestle team", the wrestler blurted out incredulously. "Had a growth spurt recently", Tristan replied with a smug grin. "Man, you should join the wrestle team. If we team up we'll dominate the heavyweight class", the wrestler stated, "Why don't you join me for a training tomorrow?". "Sure", Tristan replied. "Deal. I'm Mark", the wrestler said and offered Tristan another drink. Sean left his frat brothers and went up to Brock's room. He threw open the door and went in. Brock jumped up from his bed as he recognized Sean. "Why are you dressed like that?", he peeped as he noticed the white robe. "I'm the new leader of the house", Sean replied, "Pack yar stuff and come to Keith's room". Brock just stared as Sean turned around and left him. Wondering why he had to move to Keith's room, he opened his closet. Realizing that none of his old clothes would fit anymore, he just left the room and headed for Keith's room. The door was slightly ajar and opened further as he knocked. "Keith?", he asked as he went in. "Ah! Ya're already here." The deep voice behind him rumbled in Brock's stomach. A strong hand pushed him inside and he heard the door shut. He turned around and saw Sean putting a backpack on the floor as he looked around. "Like our new room?", Sean asked and scanned the large frat leader's apartment. "Our room?", Brock questioned as he looked up to Sean's face. He would have sworn that the guy looked bigger than he did during their 'meet' in the locker room in the hoodie he was now wearing. "Yep. I've selected ya to be my roommate", Sean answered. "But… but… Brad and I…", Brock stuttered. "He's no member of our frat any more", Sean stated, "new leader new rules." Brock looked up into Sean's eyes and noticed the malevolent glow. His gaze travelled down as his now huge rival unbuttoned his pants. "Ya know what to do, B.", Sean rumbled as he lowered his jeans and yanked down his boxers. His left paw roughly stroked his flaccid cock a few times and then released the meaty dick and was placed on his left hip. Brock was mesmerized by the fleshy snake that was swelling right in front of him. His eyes widened as the veins along the shaft pumped blood into the hardening schlong that thickened and lengthened past the size he remembered from the locker room. "Fuck. That's bigger than mine ever was", he peeped in awe as his rival's manhood attained its 11'5 inches of vein-coiled, thick meat. He took a step towards the huge man and kneeled in front of him, the dark red head of the rock-hard dick pointing straight at his face. He opened his mouth as wide as possible and took in the thick head. "Mwuhhn yeah", Sean growled in pleasure as the hot, wet feeling engulfed his 11'5 incher. His rival's rumbling baritone vibrated inside Brock's meager, 80 pound body. Knowing he was pleasing the huge athlete, he took more of the meaty manhood in his mouth. Six inches disappeared inside him, stretching his lips tight around the splay shaft, and his mouth was filled. He let his tongue caress and discover the veins and surface of the dick. "Mwuh. Fuck", Sean groaned, "Ya like sucking off the alpha male of the team, don’t ya B-boy?". Brock couldn't nod so he looked up but the pecs that pushed out the hoodie obscured his view of his huge rival's face. So he continued his suction on the rock-hard shaft. His frail hands reached for the tree-sized quads for support, grabbing hold of the unbelievably hard muscles to steady his body. "Yeah", Sean grunted and his cock throbbed inside the tiny mouth. He felt his thick balls churn and grabbed the back of the frail guy's head with his right paw. He shoved him hard into his 275 pound body, the guy's nose smacking against his eight-pack beneath the grey hoodie. "YEAUGHN!", he boomed as his balls exploded and blasted out the first heavy load through his 11'5 incher. Brock shivered as the beastly roar of pleasure echoed through the room and rattled his bones. He gagged as the lengthy snake was shoved hard into his throat and began releasing its thick juices. He gulped down as fast he could but the juices kept coming and quickly filled his mouth. He coughed and cum dripped from the corners of his mouth, oozing along his shin. His vision began going black as a fifth and sixth load erupted from the cock and cum even leaked from his nose. Sean felt the small guy go limp and withdrew from his mouth, blasting a final load into his tiny rival's face. "Even better than the last time", he said as he let the frail guy fall to the floor and wandered off into the bedroom.
  17. The muscle frat (6)

    Six Mike slowly awoke and groggily shook his head. He looked down and patted his still slightly bloated six-pack. He got up and pulled on his boxers. The sound of the door opening made him turn around. Keith, the frat leader, had made it to the frat house earlier than he expected and barged into the guest room. He noticed the half naked, muscled guy standing in the center of it and stepped right up to him. "Get out of my frat house now!", he said. Mike looked at the athlete standing right in front of him. The guy looked like his copy: exactly as tall and perhaps a few pounds heavier. Keith poked the unknown guy in the chest as he repeated: "Get out or else…". "Or else what?" The thundering bass made Keith jump up and turn around. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the most massive man he'd ever seen. Tristan stepped into the room, his wide shoulders brushing the side of the door as he walked through it sideways, and closed the distance between him and Keith with two long strides. He grabbed the front of the guy's sweater with his right paw and lifted him up like a ragdoll. Keith felt his feet dangling in the air as his 165 pound body was lifted in the air. He grabbed the thick paw and tried breaking free. Tristan felt the familiar tingling sensation on his paw as the smaller guy's fingers touched him. Surprised by the pleasant feeling, he released his hold letting the 165 pound swimmer fall down. Keith crashed down on the floor but quickly stood up. He raised his arms in a protective stand to hold off the beastly teen. As he brought up his fists, the sleeves of his sweater sagged and exposed his lower arms. Tristan noticed the uncovered skin and swiftly made his move. He grabbed the 120 pound smaller guy, his thick fingers touching as his paws totally encircled the thin lower arms. The instant his paws made contact with the bare skin the tingling sensation returned. "Yeaghn", he grunted as he felt the warmth flowing into his 284 pound body. His dick jolted and ripped away the towel. Keith felt a strange weakness come over his muscles. Ignoring the feeling, he tried pulling free from the vice-like grip but the 120 pound heavier teen didn't budge. His eyes widened in awe as he looked down and saw the thick 12 incher that had just ripped away the towel. "Ow yeah", Tristan groaned as he felt his huge muscles fill with energy and push against his tanned, paper-thin skin as they grew. Mike stared in disbelief at the incredible scene. His dick sprung back to full hardness in his boxers. His hand instinctively reached down, grabbed the hard 6 incher and began stroking it. Keith felt more and more fatigue in all his muscles. He would have sworn that the huge teen was slowly growing: it was if his muscles were pushing up his tanned skin and more veins snaked along and across the mounds of meat. Blaming his blurred vision on the ever increasing weakness, he blinked his eyes a few times to refocus. He summoned every ounce of strength and pulled with all his remaining might the break free. The paws around his lower arms didn't move and the grip even seemed to get harder. He noticed some movement at the open door and recognized Sean. "Help me, Sean", he said in a tired voice. Sean had just come from humiliating his former rival in the gym. As he entered the frat house, he'd heard deep, rumbling grunts echoing through the deserted hallways. He'd followed the sound and arrived at the guest room. He moved into the open doorway and stared at the sight: his frat leader was grabbed by the most massive man he'd ever seen, who seemed lost in pleasure according to his lengthy dick that was smacking against his eight-pack; to the side a lean, yet muscular guy stood jerking off at the scene. "Come on. Get me free, Sean", Keith pleaded once more in an even weaker voice. By now, he'd lost a good 30 pounds of muscle. Sean moved inside the room and grabbed the insanely thick wrists of the teen beast. He pulled with all his might but it was no use: the guy was simply too strong. A strange tingle went through his hands as he touched the hot flesh. Tristan opened his eyes as he felt the extra tingling sensation and looked at the heavily muscled football player pulling at his wrists. Sean knew he was no match for the teen and broke his hold. He hurried out of the room and rushed to his own room. Tristan felt the tingling sensation slowing down and looked at the guy in his grasp: the swimmer had lost every visible muscle on his body and looked like an emaciated boy. Energy whirled through his own huge body as his skin was stretched tightly across his insanely big muscles. "Who was that?", he asked Keith. Keith didn't react. He was sinking away in darkness by the fatigue. Tristan shook the frail body in his grasp. "Who was that? Tell me!", he boomed again. 'S…s…Sean", Keith mumbled weakly. "Where's his room?," Tristan asked. "…F…2…", Keith replied with his last remains of energy and sank away in a dark sleep. Tristan fell the transfer come to an end and tossed the now 85 pound swimmer into the hallway like a feather. He turned around and saw that Mike had slumped down onto the mattresses and that his six-pack was stained with his cum. "Get cleaned up, man", he boomed as he left the room in search of his next prey, his half hard cock slapping against his meaty quads. Brock got up from the cold, tilled floor in the locker room. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized he'd lost everything he got: he was no longer the number one on the team and without his muscles he would be kicked off the team. He knew that Brad would spend the night at Emily's so he decided to go to their old room and avoid the frat house. In his room Sean was trying to process what he'd just witnessed. "Who the hell was that guy?", he asked himself as he put on his favorite baseball stringer. The white fabric hung loosely around his 210 pound body. He jumped up as the door of his room flew open. Tristan strutted into the room and looked down into the brown eyes of the muscular football player. Now standing 6'4, he towered over the 5'7 guy. Energy was still coursing through his beastly body after draining the frat leader. "Who are you?", Sean asked as the beastly, fully naked teen took a step in his direction. He considered punching the guy's stomach but the sight of the deeply grooved eight-pack made him reconsider. "I'm Tristan, Brad's brother", Tristan replied. He scanned the muscular athlete and his dick jolted at the thought of the extra size he could drain. Without hesitating, he grabbed the muscular forearms like he had done with Keith. Instantly, the tingling sensation erupted where his fingers touched the bare skin. "Dude, let go", Sean said and tried braking free. A strange feeling seeped into his skin as the big paws closed around his forearms. Tristan felt the energy whirling inside his beastly body and flowing into his tree-sized arms. It felt like somehow the warmth was leaving him and going into the football player. He looked into the guy's brown eyes and saw a look of pleasure. "What the fuck?!", he boomed. Sean felt a nice, relaxing heat spread from his forearms into his biceps and into the rest of his 210 pound body. If was like a pump from a good workout but all over his body. Tristan looked in disbelief as he saw more veins emerge around the now clearly swelling muscles on Sean's arms and shoulders. Sean followed the beastly teen's gaze. His mouth opened as he stared at his own growing arms. "How…?", he groaned as another wave of energy hit him. His dick hardened in his pants as he felt his muscle swell with new mass. Tristan saw how the football player's muscles were starting to fill the once baggy baseball stringer. The guy's pecs were pushing the fabric forward while his widening back pulled it backward. His strong shoulders were now forming a wide line capped with thick, round delts. He even noticed that he didn't have to look as far down to stare in the guy's eyes. A third wave of energy hit Sean and another jolt went through his muscles. "Yeaughn", he moaned as his dick exploded inside his pants. Instantly, the transfer of energy came to an end. Tristan felt the tingling sensation stop and withdrew his hands that had been fused to the other guy during the transfer. He looked down to inspect his physique and noticed that he hadn't lost a pound of muscle. He was still the 300 pound powerhouse he'd been since he'd drained Keith. The incredible energized feeling was gone though. A tearing sound made him look away from his own majestic body. Sean inhaled deeply and his newly grown, massive pecs busted through the baseball stringer. He peeled away the ripped remains to reveal his heavily muscled torso. "Hell yeah!", he groaned as his hands roamed the cobbled surface of his eight-pack and cupped the meaty masses that protruded from his chest. He looked up at the beastly teen in front of him and noticed the guy still had a good 25 pounds of muscle on him. Tristan took in the sight and noticed how the guy's huge arms were nearly as big as his own 30 inch canons and clearly outsized his other muscles. "How did you make me grow?", Sean asked as he folded his arms in front of his thick chest, striations exploding across the meaty pecs as his hard biceps pushed into them. A grin formed on his face as he heard his new, deepened voice. "I… I don't really know", Tristan replied. "Don't bullshit me, man", Sean said in an angry tone as testosterone rushed through his 275 pound body, "I saw you steal Keith's muscles and grow bigger. Why did I gain muscle from you?". "Must be some part of the prophecy I missed", Tristan replied and explained what he had discovered so far. "I never cummed into that chalice, so that must be why you can't take my muscles", Sean stated as his mind processed the information, "But I can't drain muscles from the other guys. I've touched several of them during practice and never felt that tingle." Tristan nodded while he stared at the massively muscled football player. "I've got a special birthmark shaped like a star. According to the legend that's why I can drain muscle from those guys and you can't. But I don't get how muscle can transfer from me to you", he said. "Very strange", Sean replied, "but I sure can live with this new situation. Fuck! I rule the football team now! Why don't we work together?". "How?", Tristan asked. "Well, you and you friend can't stay here. You guys are no students here", Sean answered, "but we could make a deal: you back me up to become frat leader. In return I'll make both you guys honorary members. Then you can stay here. I could even convince the coach to give you a spot on the team next year. Deal?" He extended his hand. Tristan looked at the hand. Sean noted the doubt in the beastly teen's eyes. "I could help you find out who else cummed in the chalice. Does some extra muscle sweeten the deal?", he asked with a grin. Tristan nodded, grabbed the guy's hand and shook it. To his relief he felt no tingling sensation. "Deal", he boomed in his deep bass and clenched his hand, making the other guy feel that he was the bigger man.
  18. 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.
  19. Symbiotic Bonding - Part 03

    Sorry for the LONG delay. I have been busy. Real life gets in the way some times. And I am also trying to change my health/lifestyle by becoming something like the characters and the big muscle men of this forum (Have a progress thread in the Watch Me Grow section if anyone has not seen that, not the hottest guy yet, but working on it), so please forgive me for the delay... I now present you with the next part of this epic series... Part 03 Gym Time Andrew headed upstairs to take a shower after Matt decided to head out to the gym in a rush. His body was covered with sweat and his muscles and bones ached for some reason, almost like he worked out all day, which he never worked out a day in his life. The weirdest thing though was the stench lingering in the air surrounding him. It wasn’t a strong smell, but it was something that Andrew also was not used to, musk. Maybe it was just Matt’s sweat and odor rubbing onto him from the encounter they just shared in the kitchen. As Andrew finished up in the shower he headed to the room he shared with his brother. He made his way to his closet and grabbed a shirt out of it, pulling it off the hanger. As he pulled it over his head there was a tightness around his chest and arms. “Weird,” he pulled off the shirt and grabbed another one, and it was the same tightness. He kept trying on shirts. Over and over he pulled them off till there were a pile of them littered on the floor around him. “What the fuck?!” Andrew drops the last shirt he tried on to the floor, looking down at himself. He finally notices the changes he went through. Abs he never had pushing out from under his skin, not much yet, but there was a definite view of a four pack as he rubbed his fingers across each stepping stone of flesh. His pecs were firming up as he moved his hands to them next, which he then finally noticed a ball of muscle popping out from under his upper arm where a bicep would normally be on a man that had muscle, which Andrew clearly now possessed. Andrew’s cock began to harden. He moved to his dresser and grabbed his swim shorts. “Might as well go for a swim with a body like this,” he pulled them on and headed out to the pool. **** Matt finished up his daily morning classes. All throughout his lecture though he kept thinking back to the morning he just had with his brother. That blow job was intense, nothing like he had ever experienced before. His cock kept getting hard thinking about it, actually popping out of his jock and traveling down the leg of his pants. He had to make several shifts in his seat just to make sure his mighty cock was not seen by his other classmates. Class had ended though and he was at the gym, eager to start his workout and get his mind off of his brother. Matt quickly made his way to the locker room and changed out of his regular casual attire, pulling on a tank top and a gym shirt. They were a bit awkward on his large frame, almost as if they were a bit loose, especially the tank top. Maybe he stretched it out over the few weeks he wore it to the point it was at this loose fitting. Matt headed out to the workout area, eager to finish up before lunch. He threw himself on a weight bench, starting his usual reps but he seems a bit off. Getting up he lowers the weight and manages to do a few before getting tired rather quickly. “Need some help, runt?” Matt’s buddy Dan almost appeared out of nowhere, grabbing the bar right in the center. “Come on, Matt. I’ll give you a spot. You look like you might need a little help today.” Dan was always a bit shorter and a bit less built, standing at 6’4” and weighing 285lbs. Today though, Matt seems to see Dan as a bit bigger than normal, almost as if they are close to the same size. Matt shakes off his delusions and continues his workout as he decides to take Dan’s help for the remainder of his session; spotting one another on their sets, but Matt tires out on each of his sets as the weight is a bit too heavy for him now. Dan wraps his arm around Matt’s shoulder as they finished up their workout. “Bad days happen, Bud. I’m sure you’ll kill it tomorrow.” Matt nods at Dan, a bit annoyed as they make their way into the locker and strip down for their shower. Dan moves under a shower head right next to Matt and turns the handle to start up his shower head. He begins to soap up his hairy, beefy chest with the soap provided by the gym. Matt watches on as the water sprays down on himself, his cock still hasn’t gone down all day from his earlier sexual encounter with Andrew. Matt begins to stroke his cock to try and relieve himself, the steam of the hot water making it hard to see what was going on with the two of them. Dan begins moving the soap down to his abs, when the bar manages to slip and slide across the floor. “Fuck…” Dan bends down trying to feel for the bar with all the rising steam and heat rising to the ceiling around him As Matt continues stroking, he notices Dan’s form on the floor; his beautifully sculpted muscular ass on on fours right in front of him. His ass cheeks parted slightly with a dusting of dark hairs pushing out of his cracks. As he manages to reach it, it slips out of his hands a bit farther across the floor. “Mother Fucker!” As he moves and bends forward, his ass flexing and cheeks opening up a little more and exposing his hairy puckered, spasming hole. Matt and Dan had fucked around before. What once started as bros in the gym quickly became into several sexual encounters, both drunk on their own masculinity and testosterone. Never had the thought crossed Matt’s mind though to do anything in the gym. But that ass, right in front of him, begging to be fucked. Matt’s dick was rock hard and raging with lust, there was only one clear course of action. Matt took a step forward, grabbed Dan’s hips, and slowly pushed his cock into his friend. “NGH, WHAT THE FUCK, BRO?!” Dan started breathing heavy, surprised at this quick action from his friend. He straightens up immediately, gasping in shock, his ass muscles clenching tightly around Matt’s throbbing dick. Matt pushes his cock deeper into Dan, wrapping his powerful arms around him, pulling his friend against him in a crushing grip. “You trying to drive me nuts, dude?” Matt growled in pure bliss. “You, bending over like that? Shoving that ass in my face while I’m hard as a fucking rock and trying to beat off in peace?” Dan snarls in protest. “FUCK YOU, BRO! I DIDN’T…” Matt slams his hips forward violently, driving his cock all the way into Dan with one brutal thrust. Dan gasps, his words dying in his throat. Matt pushes Dan up against the wall and starts pumping his dick into him hard; Dan’s own stiffening member slamming into the tile wall each time Matt crashes right back into him. A low groan of lust escapes Dan’s lips as he begins to enjoy it. “That’s it,” Matt purrs into Dan’s ear. “I knew you’d love this…” he begins pumping his dick faster into him, brutally fucking him against the shower wall, the hot spray of the water falling on them both as they grunt and groan in animalistic passion. Dan’s ass begins to clench tighter around Matt’s cock as a moan finally escapes his lips. Matt’s arms reach around, under him, and lock against his abs. Dan begins to push backwards, pushing his ass onto Matt’s cock as he begins to enjoy as he begins to really enjoy this sexual experience that started with Matt forcing himself onto him. Matt’s thrusts are vicious, like a jackhammer pummeling pavement as he extracts his cock to the opening of Dan’s hole before slamming it right back in like a piston. Each time, they meet each other half way; Matt pushes in, Dan pushes back. Matt’s balls slapping Dan’s cheeks with such force, it causes a slap so loud it can be heard across the entire shower room. “Uhn…FUCK… I… I…” Within seconds, Matt practically snarling and grunting in triumph, begins to fire his hot seed into Dan, driving his dick all the way in to the hilt as his cock literally begins to spasm and go wild, pumping a surprisingly large load of cum into him. Dan begins to tense all over, every muscle flexing as he growls and grunts along with Matt. As Matt holds onto Dan, his powerful arms wrapped around his torso, he begins to slowly feel his arms getting pushed apart. Matt looks down at Dan’s back in confusion; Dan’s traps are flexed hard, throbbing, and slowly growing bigger as they rise into mountains of muscle. Matt’s eyes widen as he watches not only them rise, but the section of his back begins to move upward as well. Not only is Dan gaining more muscle mass, he’s growing taller as well. Matt’s grip around Dan’s torso breaks, his hands sliding farther and farther apart as he lifts his arms up trying to hold onto him. He rakes his fingernails across Dan’s chest, noticing that it fels thicker, fuller. Even Dan’s ass around Matt’s cock feels different, the glutes getting bigger, stronger, the target zone of his ass rising further and further off the ground with each passing second. Dan finally unclenches his glutes around Matt’s cock, making Matt stagger back, pulling out of his friend with a loud pop. Dan stands still for a moment, slowly turning around to face his friend. “How?” He looks himself over. “Did you?” Matt’s jaw drops. Dan is easily three inches taller than he was before, maybe four. Well over 300 pounds of pure masculine beef, possibly 330 pounds, or even more. He smirks at Matt, the hot water of the shower washing over his massive muscles. Dan reaches down for Matt’s body, but Matt shakes out of his daze and rolls out of the way. Dan is much bigger now then Matt, but he is not used to the new size and weight of his body making him a bit clumsy. “Where you going Matt? HAHAHA…” His laugh echoing off the walls. Matt get up onto his feet, backing towards the door to the locker room, not taking his eyes off of his enormous friend. “Ah come on, Matt! Can I fuck you now?” Dan grins from ear to ear, feeling much more confident. He takes a step toward Matt. Matt grabs his towel from the partition wall and holds it against his waist, making it into the locker room as quickly as possible, now filled with more people changing. Matt makes it to his locker, grabbing his clothes and quickly throwing them on as Dan enters into the locker room, scoping out the area for his prey. Dan’s so confident of his new body he doesn’t even care to cover himself. Matt manages to get one last glimpse of Dan now in clear focus; he’s a fucking monster. Cock close to 12 inches long and bouncing like a compass as it sways from side to side as he continues to scout out the room looking. “Anyone seen Matthew?!” People just stare in awe, no one saying a word as Matt manages to slip out the door into the main gym area, fully clothed, as he makes his way to the exit to head home. *** Matt makes it back home, not sure what just really happened back at the gym with his friend Dan. Part of him wanted to believe it was all some hallucination on his part, but he knew better. He did not just see him grow, he had FELT him grow; right under him as he fucked him. The moment after he came into him, he just started to get bigger, and not just a tiny bit, but a lot bigger. Matt began to shudder as he remembered how Dan wanted to fuck him with that huge dick. Dan had never been so large before but now… he tries to put it out of his mind as he gazes out the window to the back yard, noticing Andrew in the swimming pool, his twin’s arms cutting the water with clean strokes. Matt goes outside to get a closer look. He pauses for a second on the grass, noting Andrew’s shoulders, how they looked a bit more defined, a bit more muscular. The wetness of his brother’s skin showing the definition a bit better as the sun reflected off of him. Matt walks over to the pool, setting down his gym bag. “Hey Andrew,” Matt watches as his brother reaches the edge of the pool. “You been swimming much lately? Looks like it’s doing you good.” Although part of Matt was wondering if it might have been something else that was changing his brother. “Nah, Matt. I just felt like going for a swim.” Andrew looks up at Matt from the water, smiling at his bro, placing his arms over the side of the pool. Matt notices the bulges in his brothers arms and shoulders as the water slides off of his brother’s body. “What’s wrong with you though, Matt? You look like you saw a ghost or something.” Andrew propels himself off the wall, swimming towards the other side on his back. Matt notices the definition in his brothers chest and the feint appearance of what looks like the beginning of a set of abs. Blond hair sprouting across his brothers arms and legs. Matt sits down on a chair near the pool, watching Andrew do laps. Noting the new muscle definition, the way the muscles move under Andrew’s skin with each stroke. He remembers that morning, Andrew drinking down his cum, and then thinks about what just happened to Dan at the gym. Clearly there’s a connection, and it seems like that connection might be connected to his cum. Matt stands up and heads inside, taking his gym bag with him and tossing it into the corner of the living room. He walks up to the second floor bathroom, stripping completely, stepping onto the scale. 285lbs… Matt nearly chokes. He was 300lbs yesterday. No one loses 15lbs instantly. Not water weight. Not muscle weight. And not fat. It makes absolutely no sense. Matt put his clothes back on and headed back to the living room. He takes a seat on the couch, staring at the TV, not bothering to even turn it on. Andrew finally finishes swimming and goes back inside, drying himself off as he takes a seat next to his bro on the couch. “Are you ok man? You aren’t acting like your normal self.” Andrew playfully punches Matt on the shoulder. “You came home from the gym, looked at me weird, and then just jetted back inside. If it is something I did, you can tell me. We are brothers.” Andrew places his hand on Matt’s shoulder, moving his other hand to Matt’s fuzzy, bearded cheek, turning his face to look at him. There was sadness in his eyes. “Hey, bro… We were born together. We have a connection unlike other bros unless they were twins like the two of us. Whatever is going on with you, I am here for you, and will always be. Matt looks down at Andrew, smiling softly. “It’s nothing, Andrew. I just had a lousy workout, that’s all. Wasn’t up to my usual weight and reps on anything. So I’m just a bit bummed.” Andrew doesn’t quite know how to take that response. It sounds truthful, yet it also seems like his brother might be holding something back. Matt wraps a powerful arm around his shoulder, pulling Andrew in closer. “Only thing you did was give me a great BJ this morning, okay? So don’t worry about it. I’m cool.” He rubs the back of Andrew’s head affectionately. Andrew leans into Matt’s larger mass, breathing in the musk and cleanliness of the shower he took at the gym. Andrew’s cock begins to stir again, now that he is so close to his twin. “Damn, Matt. What I would do if we were identical twins. I wish I was as big as you. As manly as you… even your scent bro.” Andrew turns his head slightly to get a whiff of the scent of his brother’s armpit. “You really comfort me.” Matt blushes a little, but obligingly lifts his muscular arm a bit, letting Andrew have some access to nuzzle his furry pit. Even though he showered just a bit ago, his manly musk was already coming back, due to how quickly he had to rush out of the gym and also his natural pheromone musk. “If we were identical, I suspect that we’d never get anything done. We’d be busy fucking each other’s big muscle butts all the time!” Matt began to laugh, bringing his arm down across Andrew’s shoulders again. “Since that isn’t the case, we’ll just have to make do, I guess.” Andrew leans into Matt a bit more. His eyes growing heavy from the comforting smell and embrace of his twin as he dozes off to sleep. Andrew content, and happy to know that his brother who he thought he had lost from when they were kids is slowly proving to him that they still are connected. Matt just sits there, listening to the slow breaths of his brother; sleeping in his warm arms, his head snuggling against his inner pec muscle with his large arm wrapped around him… To Be Continued... Coming Soon: Part 04 – Want Me, Want You
  20. Symbiotic Bonding - Part 02

    Here's part 02... I hope I did this justice. A tiny bit of changes in this chapter. If you read the transcript, I am pretty sure you all know what's coming next! If not, enjoy this chapter for the first time and enjoy this amazing ride! Part 02 First Meal Matt woke up the next morning a bit later then his usual time. The sheets of the bed, twisted around his massive body. With a loud yawn, he sits up; he feels strange, not like his typical energetic self. As he rubs over his eyes with his hand, his large arms brush against his lats and massive pecs, pushing them together. As he pulls the twisted sheets off of his body, grunting in annoyance at how they are wrapped tightly around his thick tree trunk legs, Matt rolls out of bed and staggers over to his closet and dresser, completely naked. His massive cock swinging back and forth with every movement, semi-erect, and quite a bit harder then he’s normally used to. The one thing however that is truly discomforting for him though is his balls. They ache. Like someone hit him hard right between them the other day. It’s a lingering pain that he quickly remembered to the night before, wondering if what happened with Andrew truly did happen. Matt digs through his underwear drawer grabbing a fresh jockstrap and puts his legs through the leg openings and slides it up towards his hips, adjusting the massive bulge in its pouch. Andrew has been downstairs it seems for a good while though. The smell of bacon and sausage being fried in a pan travels up to their bedroom on the second floor. Matt stifles a moan as it’s his favorite type of meats to eat. Its candy to his senses. While Matt finishes, Andrew preps everything for them to have a nice hearty breakfast, it’s a typical morning for the boys as Andrew always makes sure his bigger twin has the right breakfast before hitting up his gym. Matt finds a pair of gym shorts and puts them on as well, enjoying the way they hug his tight, beefy glutes. Not bothering with a shirt, Matt decided just to head downstairs, swinging his huge arms back and forth, stretching them out before his breakfast of champions his bro is preparing him for his typical morning. His nose twitching as he enters the kitchen, doing a couple more stretches. “Cooking already, bro? I like it!” Sniffing the air again, Matt says amiably. He walks over to the coffee pot and pours himself a large cup of Dark Roast brew, adding a bit of cream into it. Next he heads over to his supplement drawer and starts to get out his various vitamins and boosters, gulping them down with his fresh cup of coffee, before sitting down at the table. Andrew grabs a large plate from the cabinet, plating a large amount of Eggs and Bacon, with a side of potatoes. Matt doesn’t like a lot of carbs so he makes sure to give him less potatoes and more proteins to help his bro grow even larger with his workouts. He brings the plate over to Matt before grabbing himself a cup and pouring some juice in it for himself, sitting down opposite of Matt. “I’m sorry about your new supplements from last night…” Andrew looks down at his food, feeling a bit bad at what had happened. “They probably cost you a fortune from what you told me they were.” Matt listened to his twin, but he still couldn’t let what happened to him cause him not to keep his body maintained and get even bigger. He quickly ate his food, making sure not to leave a single scrap behind on his plate. “Well, I’m bummed that they got broken like that, but I didn’t pay for them, so I guess I’m not out much of anything. Although it would have been nice to try them out this morning.” Matt tries to think of last night, but his mind is a bit fuzzy. All he remembers is something gray, skittering around his bedroom, as it traveled up his leg, latching on to his huge cock, before plunging right into his piss slit and filling his balls?! No, that can’t be right. He thought to himself, before another memory starts to plague his mind. Did I fucking blow my brother too?! Matt shook his head. Thinking it must have been a weird dream. It can’t have happened. Whatever he saw last night, the gray and black tentacle things, they couldn’t be real. It had to be a nightmare for sure. Matt looks down at his empty plate, trying to make everything make sense in his head. “I’m bummed, but I’ll just see if my guy can get me some more. You never know, maybe he has another batch.” Andrew reaches his hand across the table, placing it over Matt’s larger paw. Matt looks up at him, confused, but at the same time he feels comforted. “Can we do that stuff again like last night, bro?” Andrew smiles up at his twin, a deep intensity in his eyes. “I miss those moments. It was like we were kids again. I felt like I had my old bro back…” Matt blushes and looks away, “Well, um, I’m not sure. I uh… I kinda thought that was a weird dream, you know?” Matt clutches Andrew’s smaller hand in his larger one, holding it gently. “I, uh, well I don’ quite know…” he stammers, returning his gaze back to his twin, seeing the look of hope and affection that Andrew has for him. Matt’s cock was throbbing from this moment; raging hard in his jockstrap, all ten inches. He chuckles, giving Andrew’s had an affectionate squeeze. “Well, if my cock is any indication, then I’ll probably be saying yes. Fuck I’m horny!” Matt releases Andrew’s hand and stands up, taking his empty plate to the sink. His shorts are tented to the extreme, making his predicament obvious to anyone who would see him at that moment. “Man, I’m going to have to wear different underwear today,” He looks down to the protruding bulge. “I’ve got class, and then gym at 10. But I’ll be here tonight, Andrew. And we will see how things are going then.” Andrew clears his plate, bringing it to the sink. As he puts it into the sink, the fork laying on it falls freely to the floor, clattering between both him and Matt’s feet. They both bend down at the same time to pick it up, but due to Andrew’s smaller height, he reaches the fork first and as he comes back up, his head hits hard into Matt’s chin. Andrew clutching his head in pain as he falls back onto his knees. “Fuck, Matt. You got a thick skull!” He sits on the floor rubbing the pain, with his back against the kitchen sink, his legs apart. Matt rubs his own jaw from the impact several times before realizing he is fine. He bends over and picks Andrew up off the floor and helps his brother to a chair. “Easy there, Andrew. Are you feeling okay?” He holds him steady; his large, meaty hand on one of Andrew’s shoulders. As Matt watches his brother, concerned, the fork in Andrew’s hand clatters back onto the floor again. “Damn Andrew, you’re worrying me…” Matt lets go of Andrew as he bends down and looks for the fork. He has to bend down farther and look under the chair and table and still can’t see where the fork has gone to. Matt decides to crawl under the table to see if he can find it, his massive body making it look a bit funny as he tries to maneuver himself under it. He finally sees it, crawling forward, reaching out and clutching it in his large hand. As Matt backs his way out from under the table, he notices the lower half of Andrew’s body, seated in the chair. Andrew’s legs spread wide. As Matt’s gaze goes up to hand Andrew the fork, his eyes catch a glimpse of something in his twin’s shorts. He pauses, looking up the pant leg, and sees Andrew’s cockhead, pushing out just a little; a little drop of pre cum is bubbling off the tip, and Matt’s horniness begins to return, but this time at an alarming, skyrocketing rate. Andrew watches his bro, reaches down, and scratches at his bulge through his shorts. The mesh of the shorts rubbing against the droplet of pre causing it to create a string of his emission from his piss slit to the bottom portion of his short opening. “You okay, Matt? You’ve been down there for a while.” Andrew asks worried about what his brother was possibly doing under the table, with his other hand still rubbing the emerging bump on his forehead from their little accident. Andrew scoots his chair out a bit from the table, the light from the ceiling fan illuminating his crotch a bit more from where it was originally pushed under the table. “Yeah, I’m good,” Matt responded, his voice distant and unfocused. As if he were in a trance, he inches forward, moving between Andrew’s legs. Matt rubs his scruffy jawline against Andrew’s inner thigh. His head emerging from under the table as it moves towards his brother’s crotch. Andrew can feel the warm breath of Matt touch the tip of his cock as his brother moves more towards it. The fork clatters again to the floor, forgotten, as Matt brings is strong hands up and rubs them up along Andrew’s thighs, his hands going from his twins knees to his hips. Matt reaches under Andrew’s shorts and pushes back the hem until Andrew’s leaking cockhead comes into plain view. Matt moves his head forward, obscuring Andrew the view of his own tool. All Andrew can feel is Matt’s lips press against his cockhead, kissing it gently. He lets out a soft moan, not knowing what else to do, as he slowly moves his smaller hands to the back of Matt’s head, rubbing his fingers through his brother’s hair. Matt stops for a second, looking up towards Andrew; a snail trail of Andrew’s precum connecting from Andrew’s cock to Matts lips as he looks up at Andrew for some sort of approval. The string of precum disconnecting from Andrew’s cock as it swings across Matt’s bearded face and neck; and in an instance, there is not a single trace of it. Andrew looks on a bit confused himself now. Cum doesn’t just disappear. But that isn’t the only concern; the hair on Matt’s face isn’t as thick as it was before. Andrew places his hand under Matt’s chin and leans down. Matt comes up and meets him as their lips touch and they begin a long kiss. Matt rises up more, his back pushing the table away from them as he reaches around his brother, his thick arms wrapping around Andrew’s body. He lifts Andrew off of his chair and stands up straight, pushing Andrew up against the wall behind him. Matt returns a much stronger kiss; it’s deep, passionate, hungry, as he rams his tongue into Andrew’s mouth, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. Matt pulls away, breathing deeply, looking at Andrew with unfocused eyes. His vision begins to sharpen and return as he looks on at Andrew in his arms. “Why… do I want this so bad?” Andrew’s back still firmly pressed against the wall, his cock harder than ever. “I want this too, Matt. It’s not just you… Want me, like I want you bro…” Andrew pushes his face back towards Matt, placing his lips back on his brother, rubbing his back of his brother’s head as he is held off the ground, his arms around Matt’s thick neck, resting on his mountainous traps. Andrew pulls back, looking Matt right in the eyes. “Please Matt! Want me, like when we were teens.” Andrew feels Matt’s cock pulse under him uncontrollably in his jockstrap. It wants to break free. Andrew pushes his own shorts down around his thighs as his 4 inch cock comes free and pulses. He reaches a hand down to it, giving it a hard stroke, getting some of his precum on his finger and brings it up to his lips to taste his own seed. Matt watches as his brother tastes himself, making him even hornier, wanting his brother even more. There’s a fire in Matt’s eyes, one Andrew has only seen when Matt works hard and gets a serious pump going. One that he only gets while he’s on the field or rolling around a wrestling mat. When Matt gets that look in his eyes, nothing will stop him from getting what he wants, and he makes sure to get the greatest reward possible. “Fuck!” Andrew moans as he too is getting excited from his brother’s determination manifesting. It’s the way he has been wanting to be looked at for a long time again by his giant sized twin. Matt’s arrogant, jock alpha beast mode was about to be released. Matt pulls Andrew up against him, bringing his brother’s face up against his huge chest. He flexes the massive shelf slowly against his twin, making sure Andrew can feel the thick muscle roll as it tenses. Then he gently guides his brother’s head down his abs, down to his massive cock. Matt grabs the root of the thick beast, guiding it up. The big helmet head brushing against Andrew’s lips. Andrew can smell the musk washing off the cock, the bit of pre gushing out of his piss slit, slick against Andrew’s lips. “So boned, bro… Like, fuck, Andrew. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I fucking want you bad.” Matt’s head is spinning, more precum emerging from his slit. Part of him wants to reach down and force his brother’s mouth over his cock, fucking his twin’s face until he cums. But another part, an unfamiliar part of him, wants Andrew to do the exact same thing to him. Matt reaches forward, his large fingers running through Andrew’s hair. Andrew looks up into his brothers eyes, licking his lips. He gets down on his knees, Matt’s hand never leaving the back of his head as he continues to massage Andrew’s scalp. Andrew reaches his arm up and wraps his hand around the monstrous shaft. It’s the first time he has seen it this big and this close in so long. Andrew closes his eyes and opens his mouth as he moves his head closer to the giant python sticking right out of his brother’s groin. He pushes his tongue out, it’s the first thing that makes contact with Matt’s cock as he tastes the saltiness of his twin’s precum coming off of the tip. Pushing even more forward, trusting his larger brother with his hand still on his head, the head begins to enter his mouth, followed by the thick shaft, making Andrew open his mouth wider. As the head hits the back of Andrew’s throat, he closes his lips around the shaft and begins use his tongue and inner cheek and sucking skills to pleasure his much larger brother as best as possible. Moving his head back up to the head before going right back down the length, getting into a steady rhythm. Matt moans out in pleasure. The hands on the back of Andrew’s head pulls him all the way as far down his shaft as possible. He can feel his cock hit the back of Andrew’s throat again as he holds him there. Andrew gags once… twice… three times, as he feels his brother’s throat finally open for him as his cock begins to push even deeper. “Oh Fuck!” six inches going down his twin’s throat, then 8 as more and more of his man cock fills his brother’s mouth and esophagus. A Matt begins to start bucking his hips, going back and forth, pumping his huge dick in Andrew’s mouth. Andrew’s lips are stretched around it, and his brother’s teeth grate against the skin of his rod. Matt’s so turned on it just makes him even hornier. Each time Andrew gags, his throat squeezing around his large cockhead, little precum spurts push out of his cock. “Fuck yeah, Andrew! Mmmm… Ffffffuck!... Take that big man cock bro…” his huge chest heaving as he breathes heavily, driving his dick more and more into his brother’s mouth, a trickle of sweat running off of his brow. Matt begins to let out a groan of pleasure as he finally begins to release a load down Andrew’s throat. His shaft going nuts inside his twin’s mouth, spasming violently as he continues to send cum rocketing down his brother’s throat. As his orgasm begins to subside, he pants heavily, feeling Andrew suck the cum right out of his dick. “Oh fuck, that was good bro…” Andrew swallowed it all and his own balls begin to churn. His cock trembles, a pleasant warmth spreads throughout his body, traveling through his bones before settling in his muscles. Andrew feels something going on within him, but isn’t sure what. Little known to him, his height has increased slightly; from 5’5 to now 5’6”. His muscles tense all over his body and quiver for a moment under his skin as ten pounds of muscle was added to his body. Andrew feels strange, but good. Very good. A little bit stronger. A bit more confidence. A bit more capable. Andrew wipes his mouth as he stands up to his full height. His cock has expanded slightly as well, but not by much, as his balls churn from this little scenario they just experienced. Andrew moans, his own shorts still dropped and his cock hanging free and hard. Looking right up at Matt, Andrew’s balls pull up in their sack. His balls begin to fire, large, fast shots. The first one hits Matt right across his abs… the second, his bobbing cock… the third and fourth go right across Matt’s thick thighs and large feet. Andrew pulls away, ducking under Matt’s large arm as his last shot sprays a trail right across the kitchen floor. Andrew turns around for a split second, looking back at Matt. Matt looks a bit less proud, not standing as straight as he usually does. His brother’s traps a bit sunken down. What Andrew thinks is Matt is a bit embarrassed of what just happened, but what really is happening is something completely different. Matt’s body is slowly losing mass as he drops an inch in height within seconds, losing his imposing 6’5” stature that he was so proud to have as he crumbles away to 6’4”. Matt’s massive cock, still hard, but not the hardness that it typically is even after he blows a massive load. Matt doesn’t have his after orgasm hard on anymore. Matt staggers backwards, confused at why he suddenly feels so light-headed. But the moment passes and he slowly recovers. “Fuck Andrew, that was an incredible blow job… you’ve totally blown my mind, bro!” Matt chuckles and reaches down to wipe off the cum that was shot all over him by his brother. But just like before, there was nothing to clean up. Matt shakes his head, pulling up his jock and stuffing his semi-hard cock back into it. His shorts follow a moment later as he looks over at Andrew, noticing that his twin looks a little less thin than he used to and a bit more toned. Matt turns, heading back up the stairs to their bedroom for his books and the rest of his clothes. As Matt leaves, Andrew too notices the changes. His shirt doesn’t quite feel so loose on his shoulders; it doesn’t hang as loose off his thin torso. It’s an odd thought, and one that doesn’t really make much sense yet; Shirt’s don’t just shrink while a person wears them, after all. To Be Continued… Coming Soon: Part 03 – Gym Time
  21. The muscle frat (5)

    Five Brock awoke from a deep sleep. His frail body was hurting unlike he'd ever felt before: Brad had really pushed him to his limits during their workout yesterday. He'd tried helping his now 100 pound heavier friend, but he couldn't even lift Brad's warm up weights. By the end of the 2 hour gym session, he'd just sat on a bench watching Brad blast his chest. A hint of jealousy had gone through him when his buddy got up from the bench and flexed his pumped pecs in the mirror. "Ah, you're awake. How ya feeling, buddy?" Brad's voice made Brock look up. His 185 pound friend was only wearing a pair of boxers. A tingle went through his cock as he stared at the nicely muscled torso. "Sore allover", Brock replied, "I have never felt like this after a workout". "You went all out yesterday. Normal that your muscles are stiff. Just keep it up", Brad said and he sat down next to his buddy on his bed, "Here. Brought ya a shake". "Thanks", Brock said as he took the shake and admired his buddy's 17 inch arms. Brad noticed the stare and patted his friend's bony shoulder. "No worries, man. We'll built back yar size. Ready for another workout?", he asked to take Brock's mind off his frail body. "Nah. Feel like a bus hit me. I'm gonna let my muscles recover today", Brock said reluctantly as he remembered he was once able of working out three times a day. "You're right, man. But you'll have to come tomorrow", Brad stated. He got up from the bed and walked over to his closet to put on his training gear. "Catch ya later", he said and left the room. Tristan blinked his eyes a few times. A hand groping his left pec pulled him from his sleep. He looked aside and saw Mike roaming the wide surface of his mighty chest, the guy's hand looked comically small atop his thick pec. He felt the guy's hard cock poke against his huge quad. "Enjoying the feel?", he asked. The booming bass vibrated down Mike's six-pack and sent a shiver through him. "You're so fucking huge, T.", he said and his other hand joined in to explore the mountainous chest. The meaty rack of muscle suddenly began dancing under his touch as Tristan bounced his pecs. Mike's mouth hung open in a soundless moan and his dick exploded against the beastly quad. A grin formed on Tristan's lips as he felt the liquid heat splatter against his thick thigh. He flexed his pecs some more and felt two more blasts leaking against his tree-sized leg. He grabbed Mike's right armpit with his right paw and effortlessly lifted the 162 pound jock up. Mike marveled as his muscular body was hoisted up in the air like a feather by the beastly teen. "Fuck. You lift me with one arm", he blurted out while he was lowered down atop the deeply grooved eight-pack. He sat up, his legs at the sides of the massive torso he was now straddling. His hands instantly reached for the juicy pecs that protruded upward and outward from Tristan's chest. His fingers kneaded the meaty mounds, or tried to: the hot, concrete-hard surface didn't budge at all under his grip. His 6 inch cock was back to full hardness after his orgasm and was laying in the canyon running down the center of the teen beast's eight-pack. "How did you get so huge, T.?", he asked as he pinched the hard nipples. "Mhm", Tristan grunted in pleasure. He looked into Mike's blue eyes and decided to tell him. "I discovered an old chart in the frat house library a few days ago", he said, "it talked about the rules of the frat, like how the cum of the selected few is harvested in the 'cum chalice' at their initiation and that only the top athlete's on campus can join. At the end of the text there was some kind of prophecy. It said that one day a star-marked man would come and he would incarnate the frat's traits…" "So?", Mike interrupted since he didn't understood the words of his huge tutor. Tristan brought up his left arm, his massive bicep bulging in the process, and turned his hand so that his palm faced Mike, exposing his thick wrist. "See this mole", he said as he pointed at the small birthmark, "I've had this star-shaped mole since my birth. So I'm the chosen one. Very ironic if you think about it: me, a frail runt destined to be part of the frat with the biggest jocks. I didn't even realize it at first. I was busy steeling glances of Brock and avoiding to get caught. Things were going fine until Brock came into the mutual showers were I was showering. He grabbed my shoulders to talk to me and a wave of energy hit me. Warmth flowed from Brock's fingers into my body and all my muscles began growing while Brock's melted away. Then I understood the prophecy: it meant the chosen one would be the ultimate jock by taking the traits of the selected few. the muscles of all the guys that have cummed into the 'cum chalice' can be absorbed by me. Brock was one of them." "So, you could get even bigger, T.", Mike said. "If I find out who's cum went into the chalice, I guess I can", Tristan replied and placed his hands behind his head. His 28 inch arms balled up in vein infested boulders and he felt Mike's cock throb against his abs. "You really like my muscles, don't ya?", he asked. "Fuck yeah", Mike answered without taking his eyes from the monstrous biceps, "must be so fun to be huge". "Like 'em enough to cum again?", Tristan asked with a smirk while he tensed his arms to make his biceps dance aside his head. Mike's 6 incher smacked against the rock-hard eight-pack as another jolt went through it. "I've emptied my balls earlier", he said and his hands left the thick pecs to reach for the perfectly round biceps. "We'll see", Tristan groaned, "Come on feel 'em". Mike didn't need any further encouragement. His hands closed in on the orbs of muscle, shaking nervously as he felt the heat coming from the tanned cannonballs. His hands made contact with the concrete-hard spheres but didn't even cover the top. "Mhgn", he moaned as another jolt shot through his rock-hard cock. Tristan noted the pure lust in the smaller guy's eyes and made his bicep dance under his touch. "Mughn", Mike moaned again but his 6 incher didn't leak any fluid. His balls churned painfully. "Resisting my muscle, he", Tristan said and he clenched his eight-pack, trapping the throbbing cock in the deep valley running down its center. "Aughughn", Mike groaned as his dick was being crushed by the cobblestone-sized abs of his beastly tutor. Painful stabs shot through his balls and it felt like they were being pushed out his cock as another orgasm rolled over him. A meager, watery load leaked from his cock as the eight-pack around it relaxed. A hard blow hit his back: Tristan's big cock had come to life during his worship. Mike swiftly slid down and installed him between the huge quads. He dove onto the 12 incher that pointed straight up toward the ceiling, his hands atop the eight-pack for support. "Fuck", Tristan moaned deeply. The thought of having sent the 162 pound jock over the edge twice filled his mind with his own sexual prowess. His thick balls clenched as the hot mouth made contact with the sensitive, dark red head of his cock and orgasm exploded through his 284 pound body. His left hand grabbed the back of the jock's head to keep him in place and his magnificent muscles flexed in a display of pure manhood as the first thick load fired from his cock. "YEAUGHN!", he boomed in his deep bass while load after load blasted from his 12 incher. Mike gulped down the sticky cum like a hungry baby, breathing through his nose to catch his breath in between the long blasts. He felt spunk dripping from his mouth along the lengthy snake. He playfully bit the thick head in his mouth. "OUGHN", Tristan boomed as he felt the teeth on his sensitive cock. His balls blasted out four more loads and he fell back exhausted after the orgasm of a lifetime. Mike felt his huge tutor's orgasm wear down as the tenth blast disappeared down his throat toward his bloated stomach. He inhaled deeply through his nose and licked the last remains of cum from the fleshy snake. "Ya're so good, M. Never thought ya were a cocksucker", Tristan said and gently ruffled the jock's hair. Pride filled Mike as he heard the remark. He drew his mouth from the slowly deflating 12 incher and laid down next to the 284 pound beast, his own muscular body taking in the heat emanating from his beastly tutor. He dazzled off in a deep sleep. Being on his physical peak, Tristan had already recovered from the orgasm. "I'm gonna hit the showers", he said and got up, abandoning the bloated jock on the mattresses in the center of the room. In the gym Brad was going through his daily workout. He missed Brock's company to really push him to his limits, but ever since his buddy had lost his muscles he felt he had to protect the little guy. "Ten", he grunted between his teeth and lowered the bar. His shoulders were pumped from the military presses. A faint noise made him look aside and grab his phone. A grin formed on his lips when he read the message Emily just sent him. He grabbed his towel, rushed into the locker room and headed over to Emily's place. Back in the frat house, Brock had just informed Keith about Brad's brother. He hadn't mentioned a thing about the guy stealing his muscles but just told the frat leader that the guy wasn't planning on leaving the frat house. Before he could warn Keith to bring backup, the frat leader had told he'd come back to campus in the afternoon and ended their phone call. Brock knew the 165 pound Keith didn't stand a chance alone against the massive Tristan. He decided to go talk to Brad about it and headed over toward the campus gym. Brock entered the campus gym but saw no one around. He wandered through the deserted weight room he dominated until a couple of days ago and went in the locker room. He didn't see his buddy in the central area leading to the shower zone so he walked around the corner to where the lockers were positioned. He made his way to the furthest corner where his and Brad's locker were. A loud bang made him jump up. He heard some heavy footsteps echoing through the first part of the locker room and looked around for a place he could hide. He ducked and placed himself against the locker in front of his own, hoping that the other guy wouldn't see him. The heavy footsteps came closer but then moved somewhat away. A locker was slammed open in the other corridor formed by the double row of lockers in the center of this part of the locker room. Brock controlled his breathing and silently crawled toward the end of the row of lockers. He peeped around the corner and saw Sean standing at his locker. Sean, a junior and one year younger than Brock, had been his rival ever since he joined the football team. At 210 pounds of muscle, Sean was the undisputed number two on the team. He had tried to take Brock's place as the star quarterback without much success. Brock's weight advantage had always given him an edge on the 30 pounds lighter athlete: even though Sean was a tad faster, Brock was quite a bit stronger. Sean wasn't very popular on the team either: his cocky attitude contrasted with Brock's easy-going, team-oriented spirit. Despite Brock's efforts, they had never become friends. Brock continued observing his now way bigger rival. Sean was going through his things inside the locker. He looked around carefully and pulled out a vial and a syringe. He filled the syringe, tapped it, pulled down his shorts slightly and plunged the needle into his ass cheek. Brock realized what Sean was doing and took a slight step back. He lost his balance on the slippery floor and fell backward against the locker. The thud echoed through the locker room. Sean jumped up when he heard the sound. "What the fuck?", he said, quickly emptied the syringe and tossed it in his locker as he pulled up his pants. "Who's there?", he yelled. Being the second biggest man on the football team, he didn't fear anyone but Brock. He jumped swiftly to the source of the sound and discovered a small, yet familiar looking boy lying on his ass on the floor. "I … I swear I didn't see anything", Brock blurted out as he stared up at his rival. He noticed the angry look in the 210 pound athlete's eyes and crawled backward but his back was already against the cold, metal locker. "Brock?", Sean asked incredulously as he recognized the high-pitched peep. A grin formed on his face while he realized his big rival was gone and he was now the number one on the team. "What the hell happened to ya?" Brock saw the devilish grin forming on the big guy's face. "I lost my muscle", he said as a big hand grabbed his shirt and lifted him off the floor. "Really?", Sean replied with a smirk as he held his fallen rival at eye level with just one arm, enjoying the feeling of being all-powerful. "Why are you on 'roids?", Brock asked while his arms and legs dangled in the air. "I thought ya didn't see a thing", Sean said. Brock ignored the remark. "You're the second biggest guy on the team. Why would you need to roid up?", he went on. "How do ya think I got this big? I was stuck at 180 pounds. No matter how hard I trained, I couldn't get any bigger. Did my first cycle at the end of high school and gained 10 pounds of pure muscle. Have been cycling every summer since then. Now I'm doing some more to take top position next year. But I guess I won't have to wait until my senior year and you leaving", Sean said. "Huh?", Brock peeped. "You're wrong: I'm no longer the second biggest guy on the team. I'm the alpha dog now!", Sean boomed. He tossed away his fallen rival. Brock flew through the locker room and crashed down in a pile of smelly clothes. Before he could get up, a big hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him over to the lengthy mirror. His clothes were ripped away and he looked at his reflection. His 80 pound body made him look like a frail prepubescent boy. "You're so pathetic", Sean said as he moved in to stand behind the runt. Brock stared at his 210 pound rival in the mirror. Sean was easily three times as wide as him and at 5'8 towered over his own 5'2 body. His thick arms hung relaxed at his sides, pushing the sleeves of his T-shirt to their limits, and were just a bit too big: Sean always worked them harder than any other body part. Brock felt his meager cock hardening. "Seems like the B-rock has crumbled down to nothing", Sean said and poked the little guy in his puffy stomach. "Flex yar arms, runt", he said. Brock reluctantly raised his arms. He'd flexed in front of this mirror countless times but never before he'd feared his reflection. He flexed his arms as hard as he could but his 7 inch pipes lacked any definition. He noted the grin on Sean's face in the mirror. "I was bigger when I was 8", Sean said and put his right hand atop the scrawny right bicep. He clenched his hand and his strong fingers crushed the weak bicep like jelly. "Aw", Brock peeped in pain as his upper arm was crushed together. His left hand reached for the hand atop his right arm and tugged at it. His weak efforts were no match for his rival. "Haha", Sean laughed at Brock's feeble attempts to get free. "No one will stop me now!", he said and threw a double bicep pose. His 21 inch guns mounded upward and hardened into two orbs of meaty muscle as they ripped the treads of his sleeves. "Ughn", Brock grunted at the display of muscle. His 3 inch dick leaked a watery load. Sean noticed his fallen rival's reaction in the mirror. He lowered his arms, turned him around and placed his hand atop the guy's bony shoulders. "So, we have a fag on the team", he said as he Brock pushed down to his knees and unbuttoned his own pants with his other hands. Brock's legs gave out from the pressure and he kneeled down in front of the now undisputed biggest guy on the football team. Before he could react, a thick 8,5 incher was forced into his mouth. He gagged as more of the fleshy snake was shoved inside. Sean grabbed the back of his former rival's head and smacked him against his six-pack. He began face fucking the frail guy, thinking about how he now dominated the guy that used to eclipse him. Brock grabbed hold of Sean's muscular ass for support. He gagged and gagged but the 130 pound heavier athlete overpowered him completely. "Yeahung", Sean groaned as his cock fired away into the frail guy's mouth and throat. Four loads shot from his balls before his orgasm wore off. He released Brock's head and the small guy fell away while his 8,5 incher drenched his face with a final load. Brock slumped down to the floor and looked up in awe at the 210 pound stud while the thick spunk slid down his face. "Yar place on the time is mine now!", Sean said and threw another double bicep pose to emphasize his point.
  22. The muscle frat (4)

    Four Brad and Brock returned to their room in silence. Brad's mind was processing the meeting with his now huge brother. He gently rubbed his pecs that were hurting from the hard blow he'd gotten. "I'm going to the gym for my workout. Maybe I can figure something out to help you, buddy", he said to his friend, "Wanna come?". "What could I do in the gym?", Brock peeped in his high-pitched voice, "I own most the records on the lifts and now look at me." Tears welled up in his eyes. Brad realized he'd made a mistake and gently grabbed his buddy's bony shoulder. "You could keep me company", he said," I've always enjoyed you pushing me to my limits. You had my back when you were bigger than me. Now I have you back, buddy. So, sure you don't wanna come?". "Thanks, but no, buddy", Brock replied, "It would be too painful being in the gym right now, maybe later. I'm gonna stay right here. Go pump some iron, man". "Gonna blast these arms", Brad said with a grin and flexed his right arm. Brock stared at the 17 inch gun in envy. Just yesterday his own arms dwarfed his buddy's by 6 inches and right now, he'd kill to have arms like Brad. He nodded and watched his 185 pound friend walk away. "Remember Brock? Found someone even bigger. Join me on my bro's campus. dexameni-frat house. T." Tristan clicked and his phone sent the message to Mike. Unlike Tristan, Mike was one of the popular jocks at their high school. Standing 5'7 and 162 pounds, Mike was one of the star players on their high school football team. Tristan still remembered the day Mike had come up to him, eclipsing his weak 125 pound body with his muscular frame and asked to tutor him. During their study sessions, Mike proved to be a fast learner but insisted on being tutored. After a few weeks, Tristan had finally gotten it: Mike kept showing up every time Brock was hanging out with his older brother. He'd spoken to Mike about it and the football player obviously denied. It wasn't until Tristan admitted being attracted to Brock's huge body that Mike also conceded. They had made a deal: Tristan would keep his mouth shut about Mike and Mike would keep the other jocks from picking on Tristan. During their study sessions they could then both steal glances of Brock. A vibration made Tristan look at his phone. "Even bigger than the bulk??? Taking the first plane out. Be there tomorrow. M." "He'll be in for a big surprise", Tristan said to himself as he put his phone down. In the gym, Brad was going through his workout with extra intensity. "Have to get bigger", he said to his reflection and curled the bar up with shaking arms. His thoughts kept going back and forth between his now puny friend and his now huge brother. He dismissed the thought and returned his focus on his pumped arms. "One more", he yelled to his swollen and red biceps as he curled the bur up for a final rep. He tossed the bar down and did a double bicep pose, admiring how his arms mounded up toward 18 inches of hard muscle. A jolt went through his plump cock in his workout pants. "Let's see if Emily is up for some fun", he said to his reflection and left the gym. Brock went to the kitchen and stumbled backward as he entered. The beastly Tristan was sitting at the table filled with food and was wolfing down huge amounts of food. Brock stared in awe as the massive biceps bulged up into perfectly round, veiny cannonballs that stretched the sleeves of the gray t-shirt as the teen brought the food to his mouth. Tristan looked aside and noticed the scrawny Brock standing in the doorway. "Miring the view?", he asked with a smug grin. Brock simply nodded without taking his eyes from the 28 inch arms. "I'm stuffed", Tristan said and patted his stomach, "needed the food to fuel my muscles". Brock kept looking at the beastly teen who stood up and swaggered over to him. He gulped while drinking in the sight of Tristan's massive muscles straining the gray t-shirt. It was his most baggy shirt that hung loosely over his 241 pound body until yesterday. He craned his head up to stare into the beast's eyes. Being 5'2 himself, the 6'1 Tristan towered over him in height. Tristan loomed down into Brock's eyes, noticing the mixture of fear and arousal. "You used to be so intimidating, but now you're pathetic", he said, "I had my brains when I was skinny. You don't even hove those". "Please, Tristan. Give my muscles back", Brock pleaded in his high-pitched voice, "Ya don't even have to give them all back. Ya can keep some of my mass". "I don't think so, Brock", Tristan replied, "I'm liking my new size. Besides I don't know how I took your muscles. So I can't give them back. I think your muscles look better on me. Don't you agree?". Tristan brought up his right arm and flexed it. His cannonball-sized bicep mounded upward and outward atop his low-hanging, thick tricep; veins exploded over the surface as the monstrous bicep rose and rose until it reached 28 inches of hard meat underneath the paper-thin bronzed skin. Brock's eyes widened as the massive muscle flexed right in front of him. He thought he heard the skin stretching as it tried accommodating to the hardening bicep. He instinctively reached for the insanely muscular arm. A shiver went through his scrawny body as he touched the rock-hard, hot mountain of meat. His 3 incher leaked a watery load in his pants. "Don't I look better with your muscles? Better than you ever did?", Tristan asked again and flexed his right bicep some more under the frail touch. "Yep", Brock blurted out as his fingers were pried open by the beastly bicep hardening some more. A hint of disappointment went through Tristan: he'd hoped for the tingling sensation to return when Brock touched his arm so he could drain some more size from him. But nothing happened. Perhaps he can't get smaller than he is now, he thought and brushed the skinny guy's hand away from his arm. "Better hit the gym again to grow back some size, Brock", he said with a smirk and abandoned the fallen football player. The next day Brock followed his friend Brad to the gym. Both of them wanted to avoid Tristan as much as possible and Brad was happy that his best friend was regaining some of his old energy. He decided to push the little guy as much as possible to make him grow back his muscles. While Brad and Brock were out, Mike arrived at the frat house. His dick was hard thinking about the huge guy Tristan had mentioned in his text. He stepped up to the front door and knocked. He stepped back as a massive guy opened. "T? What the fuck happened to you?", he yelled out in disbelief as he recognized the guy. "Let's go to my room", Tristan said and went inside. Mike followed the beastly man, admiring his insanely wide back. Tristan opened a door on his left and strutted in. Mike hurried in and closed the door behind him. He looked at Tristan standing in the center of the room, his arms folded in front of him. Veins crisscrossed all over the thick forearms, impossibly large biceps pushed the sleeves of his grey t-shirt up and hard, horseshoe-shaped triceps jutted out in relief at the back of the meaty upper arms; protruding pecs strained the front of the shirt and wide, round shoulders pushed it to its limits. "So? What do ya think?", Tristan asked with a smirk on his face. "Huhg?", Mike muttered as he tried to fathom the unbelievable sight in front of him. He looked up at the beastly teen's chiseled face: a coarse five-o'clock-beard decorated the square jawline. Tristan noted the look of pure admiration in Mike's blue eyes. "How did you get so huge, T.?", Mike asked and cleared this throat as his voice cracked. He just couldn't believe the size on the guy he'd outweighed by a good 40 pounds. His dick was rock-hard and throbbed in his pants. Tristan didn't respond. He slowly took off his shirt, gradually revealing his upper body. Mike's mouth fell open and his eyes widened to the size of saucers as his once scrawny tutor's torso came into view. He gazed at the massive traps that made his neck look like that of a bull and descended into an impossibly wide pair of perfectly round, bowling ball-sized shoulders that supported the thickest, most muscular arms he'd ever seen; a thick protruding rack of meaty pecs the size of half watermelons divided by a deep cleavage stretched the tanned, paper-thin skin tight across the mighty chest that obscured the top half of the hardest looking eight-pack around, the valley running down the middle of the four rows of cobblestone-sized, deeply edged abs looked deep enough to fuck it. "Ughn", Mike groaned at the sight and he creamed his pants. "Something wrong, M.?", Tristan asked smugly as he looked back at the high school football player. He noticed the dark stain forming at the front of the athlete's jeans. "Wanna see my legs too?", he demanded teasingly. Mike nodded eagerly while he drank in the display of muscular perfection and orgasm kept racing through his 162 pound body. Another load flew from his cock into his soaked boxers. "Thought so", Tristan said and removed his sweat pants. He tossed them aside and stood up straight. "Fughnck", Mike grunted in pleasured disbelief as he gawked at the tree trunk-sized pillars of muscle that were his tutor's legs. The different parts of his huge quads were crisscrossed with deep crevices and thick veins, the teardrop obscured his kneecap by its sheer size and his strong calves jutted out at the back of his lower leg. Mike's eyes were drawn to the front of the military-style boxers that seemed ready to burst open. "Still think that Brock has the best body?", Tristan asked in his deep bass while he rubbed his thick left pec. "Fuck Brock", Mike blurted out breathlessly and lunged forward. Before Tristan could react, the 162 pound football player was kneeling in front of him and yanked down his boxers. As the fabric only descended to about half his quads, he reached down and ripped them off. His plump cock inflated further as more blood flowed into it. Mike stared at the hardening snake in front of him. He gulped, licked his lips and took the swelling cock into his mouth. He grabbed hold of the beastly quads for support. "What…", Tristan let out but the pleasure of the 162 pound athlete servicing his dick overtook him. His left paw gently ruffled the guy's pepper and salt hair while his right paw played with one of his own hard nipples. Mike licked and sucked along the shaft that kept swelling inside his mouth as his hands roamed the hard surface of the muscular quads. "MMhm", Tristan moaned as his cock reached its 12 inches and goose bumps appeared all over his huge body. Mike used every instinctive skill he didn't even know he possessed. He upped the pace of his sucking, sucking the coke can-sized cock's head quickly and teasingly. He was rewarded by rumbling, needy sounds off his beastly tutor. He heard the massive guy's breathing increasing and sucked him deep and very hard. Tristan felt the electricity of a mighty orgasm rolling over him. His right paw grabbed the back of Mike's head and pulled him onto his dick. His lemon-sized balls drew tight and a first, huge load of sticky cum blasted through his throbbing shaft. "FUUGHNCK", he boomed and his huge muscles flexed as he was sent over the edge. Mike's nose collided with the hard bottom row of abs. He grabbed hold of his tutor meaty ass as the fleshy snake inside his mouth throbbed and flooded him with thick spunk. His own cock leaked another load as he realized he sent the hugest man around over the edge. "FUCK", Tristan roared once more as a second, third and fourth load shot from his cock. Mike gulped down the cum as fast as he could, but the juices leaked from his mouth and nose. His vision began waning since he couldn't breathe from the cum that kept filling his mouth. Tristan fell the hands on his muscular ass losing their grip but kept his right paw tight at the back of the athlete's skull to keep him in place. "Yeaughn", he groaned while four more blasts shot from his dick. Mike fell limp from the lack of air and the cum now poured from his mouth down on his chin. Tristan withdrew his still rock-hard 12 incher from Mike's mouth. He gently picked up the passed out guy, stripped off his clothes and laid him down on the mattresses in the center of the room. He laid down next to the guy that once outsized him by a good 40 pounds, but he now dwarfed by 120 pound of pure muscle and dazzled off.
  23. The muscle frat (3)

    Three Fear filled Tristan's widened eyes as he was slowly span around to face Brock. He tried resisting and fighting back but his 124 pound body was totally overpowered by his brother's 241 pound buddy. His more-than-half-hard cock slapped against his skinny left leg while he was turned around. He quickly held his hands in front of it and looked up into the 5'8 man's eyes. "Just relax, man", Brock said as he looked down in the 5'5 little guy's dark brown eyes, "Don'tcha think it's time we had a real talk? Things can't go on like this. Yar bro and I are trying to help ya out". A pleasant warmth began flowing through Tristan as he listened to Brock's deep baritone voice. He felt his 5 incher harden fully beneath his hands as he was mere inches away from the amateur bodybuilder physique he'd admired for several years. Brock noticed the fear disappearing from the small boy's eyes and a hint of what seemed like a smile forming on his frail lips. A shiver travelled down his spine and his sight went dark for a second while he felt a tingling sensation between his meaty paws and the skin of the skinny guy's bony shoulders. He blinked his eyes to refocus his gaze. Tristan perceived pearls of sweat forming on the huge athlete's forehead. A faint moan escaped his mouth as the warmth increased exponentially throughout his frail body. He closed his eyes in pleasure. Brock looked down at the guy in front of him while the last black dots disappeared from his sight. His sight still was a bit foggy as if the steam in the shower zone kept him from seeing clearly. He noted the small, flat pecs and wondered why Tristan always wore baggy clothes: he looked decent enough like someone that had started working out a few months earlier. The tingling sensation made him look at his own paws and noticed the frail, yet squarish looking shoulders beneath them. He looked further down to discover the thin yet strong looking biceps with a prominent blue vein. The small guy had the typical surfer look with his nice tan. Brock looked back at the small boy's chest. He would have sworn the flat pecs looked bigger than a couple of minutes earlier. Tristan let out a second, louder moan as the warmth seemed to slip inside his bones and muscles. He reopened his eyes and stared at the meaty rack of hard muscle atop Brock's chest. The thought that the protruding pecs seemed less impressive than he'd imagined, flew through his mind. His cock felt harder than ever before and it throbbed behind his hands. Brock stared at the growing boy in his grasp in disbelief and blinked his eyes again, but the foggy ring at the edge of his gaze only got more intense and prevented him from seeing anything else than the frail boy in front of him. "Ya're getting bigger, T.", he said as he noticed the hardening four-pack. He looked up and saw the now even thicker pecs swelling with every breath the small boy took. He felt the bony shoulder beneath his paws hardening and thickening. Brad's little brother now looked like a surfer who had spent too much time in the gym. The tingling sensation between his meaty fingers and the swelling shoulders increased some more. Tristan heard the huge man's remark and looked down at his body. A disbelieved gasp escaped his mouth as he stared at his muscular and still growing physique. He'd gained a good 40 pounds and it showed clearly: every muscle on his body was bigger, it was like he was going through puberty once more right there. His hands fell away from his cock and a throbbing hard, 6 incher stood up straight in front of him. He looked up at the man holding him and noticed that Brock no longer looked like an amateur bodybuilder but more like an overbuild fitness model. Brock's gaze was glued to the growing guy's rock-hard cock and a jolt went through his own dick. "Fuck. Ya're getting big like yar bro", he said in a slightly higher voice. The tingling sensation expanded through his body and seemed to invade every one of his meaty muscles. A hint of fatigue made a tremor course through his thick quads, but he was too busy admiring the hardening physique in front of him to notice it. Tristan noted the much less rich baritone and looked at his brother's huge friend's face. He gasped when he saw Brock's face: his prominent jaw line was getting softer and made his squared masculine face beginning to look rectangular. He also realized he was looking straight into Brock's eyes. His mind quickly processed this realization and he suddenly knew where his new size was coming from: the prophecy he'd read in the frat house library was right. He was now just as tall as the guy that once towered 5 inches above him. Their bodies now weighed exactly the same, but looked clearly different: Tristan's was bulging with pure, ripped muscle and growing where Brock's was shaggy and somewhat blobby looking and obviously shrinking. Brock couldn't believe his eyes: the wimpy, frail boy before him was now looking like a contest ready physique competitor. The shoulder beneath his hands were broadening and thickening and began pushing open his fingers; the once flat pecs were now a nicely protruding rack of striated muscle atop a deeply grooved six-pack; the stick-like arms were replaced by strong looking, muscle-filled pipes that had to be around 18 inches. A throbbing motion made him look down and he saw the thick, rock-hard 8 inch cock protruding proudly from Tristan's body. The thick fog at the edge of his sight began dissipating and as he looked down he noticed his own chest. "No", he mumbled in a hig-pitched tenor voice, "where did my muscles go?". "Here", Tristan said in a now way deeper voice than Brock. His thickly muscled arms reached forward and he grabbed hold of his brother's friend's armpits. Instantly, more warmth rushed through his ever growing body. The tingling sensation from Brock's hands also appeared where Tristan's hands made contact with his body. A wave of exhaustion and weakness seemed to come over him as he felt his muscles being siphoned into the other man. "Let me… go", Brock said in a breaking voice and tried squirming free. He fought with every ounce of strength left in his weakening body and manage to loosen the grasp around his ribs. Tristan felt his brother's friend breaking his hold but quickly replaced his hands in his armpits and applied more pressure. His growing body got stronger with every passing second while Brock's diminishing one only got weaker. "Feed me your size!", he boomed in his deepening baritone voice and let the energy and mass flow into him. Brock tried freeing his hands from the swelling shoulders but they were fused to the now boulder-sized orbs of muscle. His eyes widened as he felt his feet leave the floor: the guy he'd outsized by nearly 120 pound just minutes earlier now held him effortlessly in the air. "Put me down, T.", Brock pleaded desperately as his body now sank below 160 pounds. He fought and squirmed but the grasp around his torso got stronger and stronger. "Ya still have more left to give", Tristan replied as he enjoyed the feeling of being all-powerful and dominating the huge stud he'd luster after ever since he'd first seen him. Brock just stared at the ever-growing beast that held him, tears flowing from his eyes: Brad's little brother was quickly closing in on his own old size and showed no signs of stopping. His heavy, striated protruding pecs heaved bigger with every breath and each time maintained their new size, the tanned skin was stretched tight across the inflating mounds of meat and stretch marks began appearing at the top and sides of the massive rack as the quickly growing muscles pushed the paper-thin skin to its limits; the arms that held him up were perfectly round and bulged with muscle and snaking veins as they now clearly surpassed the 23 inches he once had; the six-pack had evolved into an impossibly deeply edged eight-pack; his once stick-like legs now were pillars of strength that easily supported his growing body and his rock-hard cock was closing in on a double-digit-length and the girth of a coke can. "Please, give my muscles back", he pleaded in a girly voice. Tristan looked into the tear-filled eyes of his brother's best friend. A smirk formed on his lips as he realized how easily he held the once huge athlete up: the once huge Brock felt like a feather in his swelling 25 inch arms. Brock's intimidating, masculinity-oozing body had shriveled down to the same pathetic size he'd been minutes earlier and kept getting weaker in his grasp. His own, now huge body felt energized and strong as warmth and mass kept flowing into him and fed his growing muscles. "Fuck. This feels so good", he said in his rich, deep voice. Brock noticed the hungry look in Tristan's dark brown eyes and he realized the guy wasn't going to give his muscles back. His own eyes widened as he marveled at the guy's body: the wimpy boy he'd always known now surpassed his size at his prime. The muscles bulging all over the man's growing body kept amassing more mass. The man holding him up wasn't simply huge, he was growing beastly: shoulders now twice the size his had been and perfectly round, gave him an impossibly intimidating v-taper. Fatigue began overwhelming his own diminishing body as he sank below 100 pounds. Tristan felt his growth coming to an end and summoned the last ounces of strength from the weak body in his grasp. "FUCK YEEAH!", he boomed in a deep bass that echoed against the tilled walls and rattled the wimpy frame in his grasp. He tossed the now 80 pound Brock aside and looked down at his own 284 pound body. He looked like an ultra-heavy weight bodybuilder ready to compete: every muscle on his 6'1 frame was pumped, hard and ripped and rippled beneath his paper-thin tanned skin. His 12 inch cock exploded against the tilled walls, flooding the shower zone with his sticky man juices. He abandoned the wimpy Brock and swaggered out of the shower zone, his heavy footsteps echoing through the frat house. Brock lay down on the cold, wet tilled floor and waited for the sound of the heavy footsteps to fade. He got up slowly, his skinny legs quaking with fatigue: he felt like he'd just gone through a grueling workout. He avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror, put on his shirt and sighed: the once skintight tank top now hung like a tent around his 80 pound body. He wandered over to his room and stumbled backward as he saw the huge Tristan coming out of it with some of his clothes tossed over his bowling ball-sized left shoulder. He waited a few seconds and went into his room. All his clothes were tossed around the place. He picked the now way too big shirts and pants up, put them back in the closet and heard his phone vibrating. He went for it and noticed a text from his buddy Brad. Got my bro's text. Seems like ya guys having a great time. Will be spending the night at Emilys. Have fun. B. Brock put his phone aside, got in bed and cried himself to sleep. The next morning Brad came back to the frat house with a smile on his face. He'd spent a very good night with Emily, like they always did. "Just in time for my morning workout with Brock", he said as he entered their mutual room. "Who are you?", he said as he saw a small guy standing in the center of the room. Brock jumped up at the sound of his best friend's voice. He turned around and had to look up to look at Brad's face, his best friend was now a full head taller than him. "It's me", he said, his weak voice breaking as he began crying. "Brock?", Brad asked incredulously as he recognized the patheticly skinny boy, "What happened to ya?". "Your brother… in the shower… my muscles…", Brock muttered in between sighs and sobs. Brad closed the distance between them and put his hands around his best friend. "It's okay, man. I'm here for ya", he said as he gently patted the frail back. Brock let his best friend comfort him. For the first time since he'd lost all his muscles, he actually felt safe. His now 100 pound heavier friend's embrace filled his weak body with warmth. "So, my brother did this to ya?", Brad asked, "but how?". "Don't know", Brock peeped in his girly voice, "my muscles just flowed into him when we were in the shower last night." "I'll go talk to him. He has to give yar muscles back. I'll make him do it!", Brad said. "He won't listen to you", Brock replied. "Don't underestimate me, buddy", Brad said and flexed his 17 inch right arm, "Come on, let's go talk to him!". "You don't get it: he's huge now. Way bigger than you are", Brock stated as he looked at his buddy's flexed arm with envy. Brad noticed Brock staring at his arm and quickly relaxed his pose. "No worry, buddy. I'm his big bro. He has to listen", he said as he gently ruffled his best friend's hair and went to the door. He stepped through the frat house to the part where his brother was staying, his buddy Brock following close behind him. He slammed open the door of the first room and stormed in, Brock right behind him. Someone had pulled the mattresses from the two beds and placed them together in the center of the room. But otherwise the room was deserted. "What are ya runts doing here?". The deep, thundering bass rumbled against the walls, rattled the windows and resonated in Brad's and Brock's bodies. They spun around and saw Tristan entering the room. The small Brock retreated behind his bigger buddy as the beastly teen came in. Brad looked in awe at his younger brother: every huge muscle on his body seemed ready to jump through the skintight hoodie he was wearing; the prominent vein snaking along his upper arms was clearly visible through the fabric. Not wanting to show his intimidation, he stepped up to his brother to confront him. He gulped as he had to look up slightly to stare him in the eye and he noticed that his brother's insanely wide shoulders were more than twice as broad as his own. "You took Brock's muscles?", he asked as deeply as possible. "Yep", Tristan replied matter-of-factly", I also took his hoodie". "Give them back", Brad stated, ignoring how his brother's deep bass drowned his own voice. "Or else what?", Tristan replied and put his hands on his hips and flared his lats, making his body double in width. The stretched hoodie protested with a tearing sound as it split open under the pressure of the beastly teen's wide back. Brad couldn't help it and took a step back instinctively. "Just give them back, bro", he said. "Ya're gonna make me?", Tristan asked coldly and inhaled deeply to make his huge chest expand. More tearing sounds came from the hoodie and the zipper at the front was pushed down by the massive mounds of striated muscle. "I… ehm", Brad began but words died in his throat as he laid eyes on the deep cleavage between his huge brother's thick pecs. More intimidation flowed through him and he had to summon all his willpower not to take another step back. Tristan saw the look of doubt in his older brother's eyes and a smirk formed on his lips. "Well?", he said. Before his brother could react, he shoved him in the chest. Brad didn't know what hit him. One moment he was standing in front of his now massive brother, the next he flew through the room and crashed down on the mattresses. He coughed as he got up to his knees. A huge paw grabbed hold of his shirt and lifted him up. He stared in disbelief at his younger brother as the beastly teen held his 185 pound body effortlessly up with his right arm. "Ya're in no position to tell me what to do, bro. Got it?", Tristan boomed angrily. Brad clutched at his brother's massive arm, trying to break free. "Guess I'm no longer 'little T.' like ya called me. Seems like 'little B.' is just a bug in my grasp", Tristan said as he shook his brother back and forth, "I'm calling the shots now. Got it, little bro?". Brad nodded, knowing full well he was no match for his beastly brother. He'd never felt more scared. "Now get lost!", Tristan boomed and tossed his brother into the corridor. Brock sprinted toward his best friend and the two of them quickly got away.
  24. The muscle frat (2)

    Two The next morning Brad awoke with a strange feeling: the mixture of too many beers and the pride of being a DEXAMENI-frat member buzzed around in his head. He groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room. He was laying in a bed against the left wall, the bed against the opposite wall was empty but the sheets were tossed on it. He tried figuring out how he'd gotten there. All he remembered was the initiation, the first two beers and then everything was blurry. "A shower would do some good", he said to himself as he sat up in his bed and tossed his sheets aside. He noticed he'd worn his boxers to bed. He tried stepping out of the bed but his spinning head made him pause for a second. The door opened and he looked up. "Ah, ya're awake, roomie", Brock said as he entered the room. "Roomie?", Brad asked while his buddy, wearing nothing but a towel rapped his waist, closed the door and turned around. "Yeah, Keith agreed you moved in with me since we're friends. Normally the new guys have to stay together in the other part of the building but I convinced him to let ya stay with me", Brock replied. "Thanks, buddy." "Don't mention it", Brock stated with a grin, " Ya really let yourself go at the party. I carried ya upstairs to our room. Ya were too wasted to make it up the stairs. Ya passed out in my arms. Ya didn't even hear me get up an hour ago for my morning workout." "A shower would be a got idea", Brad said and stepped out of his bed. He walked over to the center of the room but his 45 pound heavier friend didn't move and blocked his way to the door. "There are some rules around the house ya don't know yet, rookie", Brock said. "What do you mean, B.?", Brad asked and looked into his friend's eyes. "Well, I'm the senior member here. Second in line after Keith. So ya have to do what I say", Brock said as he placed his hands on his hips to flare his lats and emphasize the width of his 229 pound body. Brad nodded as he took in the size of his best friend's pumped arms. A hint of jealousy going through him since he'd always envied Brock's good muscle building genes. "I could use a blowjob right now", Brock said. "No way", Brad blurted out. He gulped as he saw the look on the bigger man's face. Brock folded his pumped arms in front of his chest, making the mounds of muscle that were his biceps swell into the rack of pecs. Brad reluctantly fell down to his knees and looked up at the veins snaking along the cords of muscle in his buddy's forearms. He reached for the towel when the 45 pound bigger man began laughing. "Got ya", Brock said as he exploded in laughter, "Man, ya should have seen your face. Priceless!". He grabbed his buddy's armpits and hoisted him up to his feet. "You mean I don't have…", Brad began. "Na. I could make ya, but you're my friend", Brock stated, "Serious though, if ya want a good blowjob let me know. One of the new members from last year is great at giving head. Might gonna see him right now". Brad noticed the stirring motion beneath his best friend's towel. "Shower's in the hallway", Brock said as he disappeared from their room. The semester went by like a breeze: Brad had the time of his life in the DEXAMENI-frat. He enjoyed the friendship of his roommate who kept watching his back. Every time one of the older frat members wanted to put him up with some humiliating chore, Brock would show up and say that he was his personal rookie and made him carry his shoes or gym bag while the others laughed at him. They kept working out daily, pushing each other to their limits. Brad had managed to gain three more pounds, now brushing 185 pounds of ripped muscle. Brock on the other side put on another 12 pounds, making him a whopping 241 pounds of bulky mass, his arms now measuring nearly 23 inches cold. Some of his newly gained mass was fat though, a role of lard began obscuring the bottom row of his muscle gut, but being the biggest guy on the football team was more important to Brock than a ripped six-pack. A week before the Christmas holiday, Brad walked into their room. His eyes went wide as he stepped in. Brock was lying naked on his bed while some small wrestler was nestled between his thick quads and sucking him off. "Jeez, I'm sorry", Brad muttered as he backed away. "Get in and close the door, rookie!", Brock ordered as he looked up to his roommate. Brad closed the door and stood in the center of the room, staring at the incredible scene in front of him. He actually felt his own dick hardening in his pants as he looked at the small, yet muscular wrestler sucking his buddy's 10 inch pole with gusto. "YEAUGHN", Brock groaned deeply, his meaty chest flexing as he blasted his load down the wrestler's eager throat. "Good one, Jay", he said as he gently ruffled the wrestler's hair. Brad watched as the wrestler got up and noticed the large wet stain on the guy's tented boxers. "You've such a hot body", the wrestler said as he rubbed his hands along the masses of meat atop Brock's chest. Brock bounced his meaty pecs under the guy's grasp and looked at his roommate. "Ya want a blowjob too, Brad?", he asked. "Na, I'm good", Brad replied. "Your loss. Jay's got the best mound on campus", Brock said and clenched his fist to make his right bicep harden under the wrestler's touch. "Wow", Jay said as his hands were pried open by the orb of steely meat. "Ya can train with me after the holidays like I promised, Jay", Brock said, "Now leave me and my roomie to it. Happy holidays". He threw a double bicep and sent the wrestler off. Just as Jay passed by Brad he said to him: "The offer stands. If you want a blowjob, let me know. Brock said you have a great body too". Brock exploded in laughter as he saw the dazzled expression on his friend's face as the wrestler left their room. "Told ya he's real good. He came up to me the first week he'd gotten in the frat and offered me a blowjob right there in the showers! He's even more into my body as I am. Ya should really give it a try, buddy. So, what's up?". "Problems at home", Brad said as he sat down on his bed, "You mind putting on some clothes?". "A shame to hide any part of this body", Brock replied and slowly rubbed his hand along his bulky frame and gave his deflating 10 incher a good squeeze. He did pull on his boxers. "My little brother dropped out of high school and is in constant fights with my parents. Some holiday I'm up for", Brad said. "Why don't ya ask him to stay here on campus. He could sleep here in the frat house, most of the guys are going home. I'm staying since I'm an orphan so ya don't have to be here alone with him", Brock replied as he walked over to his roommate's bed and sat down next to him. "Sounds pretty good to me. But I'll never convince my parents", Brad stated and looked into his buddy's eyes. "I'll give 'em a call. Say ya have some stuff to do on campus", Brock said and patted his friend's back. "Tell them my brother's in for some pre-student program", Brad said and thanked his best friend. Brock indeed managed to convince Brad's parents and a week later his brother arrived on the nearly deserted campus. A faint knock on the wooden doors of the frat house echoed through the hallway. Brock opened the door and looked down on the skinny boy standing there. "Little T.", he said with a grin as he recognized Brad's little brother Tristan. Tristan instinctively stepped back as he looked at his older brother's massive friend. Despite having turned 18 a few weeks earlier, Tristan looked like puberty had completely forgotten him. Standing 5'5 and weighing a measly 124 pounds, he looked like an emaciated kid. Even the thick hoodie and the baggy jeans he was wearing couldn't hide his skinny frame. Brock looked into the small boy's dark brown eyes and felt a bit uneasy, despite outweighing him by more than 100 pounds. Tristan just stared back into the huge man's eyes. He noticed the unease and a smug grin formed on his lips. He'd always used his intellect to mess with his jock brother and Brock, enjoying their stupid reactions. "So", he asked, "Can I come in or do I have to stay out here?". "Oh, sure thing, little T. Come on in. I'll show yar room", Brock said moved aside to let the small boys enter. "You're getting fat, Brock", Tristan said as he squeezed his frail body between the wall and the huge man's muscle gut, "Jeez, you're taking up half the corridor with your bulk". "Biggest man in the house and on the football team", Brock said with pride and flexed his right arm in front of his torso, making his 23 inch gun harden in a veiny, striated orb of meat. Tristan stared at the round ball of hard meat and shook his head. "If I want to see some dumb meat, I'll watch some cows. Just show my room. Then you can go back at mindlessly pumping iron to compensate", he said in a harsh tone. Brock relaxed his pose. "Let me grab yar bag", he said to break the tensed atmosphere. He tossed the bag over his broad shoulder and silently led the small boy to his room, wondering why the guy didn't admire his muscles like the others. Even though he could squash him like a bug, Tristan always made him feel somewhat unsecure. "Here we are", he said as he opened a door in a deserted hallway, "If ya need anything, let me know. Yar bro and I are staying on the other side of the house. I'll come get ya for diner", Brock said and left the small boy. He closed their door behind him and went for the gym. Tristan looked around the room but couldn't get the image of Brock's huge body from his mind. He'd always had a crush on the guy ever since he'd seen him shirtless, comparing his muscles to Brad's. Since then, Brock had only grown bigger and he'd often jerked off thinking off the guy's big muscles. He'd only played cool and uninterested to avoid being caught. Now, having stared at Brock's bulk stretching his tank top to the max, his cock was raging hard since the huge man had opened the door. Tristan unbuttoned his pants, pulled his throbbing 5 incher from his briefs and began stroking his hot shaft. Within seconds, he blew a watery, meager load, thinking about Brock's beastly body. He pulled his pants back on and got unpacked. A few hours later Brock returned from the gym with Brad. They found Tristan sitting in the kitchen, quietly eating dinner. "Hey, little bro. Heard you dropped out of high school", Brad said. "So?", Tristan replied without looking up. "Cool with me", Brad stated a bit uneasy. "Let's eat too", Brock said to break the tension. He knew Brad and Tristan had never really gotten along. "Good workout, man. Still feeling pumped", he said to Brad while he bounced his pumped pecs. Tristan looked up as he finished his meal and saw the meaty mounds of muscle dance atop the huge man's chest. "Lucky I'm done eating. One could easily lose his appetite looking at a half naked man with a role of fat protruding from his gut", he said while his cock hardened in his pants. "Sorry", Brock replied uneasily and put on a shirt he pulled from his gym bag. "Little bro. It's Brock who got the idea to invite ya over. So ya could get some distance from man and dad. So show him some gratitude", Brad said to his brother. "Wow, Brock. You're improving: you had an actual idea", Tristan answered instantly. He snickered as he noticed the embarrassment in the huge man's eyes. "I'm going to bed. Exhausted from the trip.", he said and disappeared from the kitchen. "I'm sorry, man", Brad said to his bigger friend, "I really thought my brother would thank ya for letting him stay here. I'll talk to him in the morning. So, nice record ya set on the bench today." A smile appeared on Brock's face when his buddy mentioned his new record. He felt testosterone flow through his 241 pound body just thinking of his lift. "I'm gonna trash our opponents on the football field. Can't wait to break the 250 pound mark", he said and groped his thick pecs. The confidence of being the biggest man around returning to him. The rest of the week went by as it had started: Tristan stayed in his room most of the time, avoiding his brother and Brock as much as he could. Brad and Brock let the small guy alone and spent lots of time in the gym, constantly pushing each other. They decided to throw a party just for the three of them, hoping to take Tristan's mind off things at home. As they ended their workout, Brad said he would get the booze. He took a quick shower and went to the store, while Brock blasted out some more sets to make his 23 inch arms grow some more. Brock smiled at his reflection as he did a double bicep and saw his pumped arms. Brock arrived back at the frat house, pulled off his sweat-drenched workout gear and strutted into the mutual showers. He heard the water running and saw Tristan standing under the farthest shower head. He nodded at the small guy and took the shower next to his. He sighed as the hot water cascaded down on his beastly body. Tristan looked up in shock as he heard the heavy footsteps and saw Brock stepping up to him. He quickly turned around, facing the tilled wall as the man he secretly lusted for stood next to him. He felt blood flowing to his flaccid cock and focused on hiding his beginning boner. Brock began soaping his wide, muscle-filled frame and looked aside to the small boy standing next to him. Up close and without his baggy clothes the guy looked even wimpier. "Nice tan ya have", he said, giving Tristan a compliment to break the tension that somehow always appeared between the two of them. "So that's why you're always in the gym: to look at other guys' bodies", Tristan replied and glanced aside to look at Brock's pumped arms. A shiver went through him as the masses of hard meat, choked with veins bulged while the huge man soaped his body. Another jolt shot through his further hardening cock. "No, I…", Brock muttered, "I really mean it: ya look good. Wish I had a bronze tan like yours". He felt even less sure after his remark, like the small guy made him feel weak and helpless. "Thanks, I guess", Tristan answered coldly. He turned off the shower, getting ready to leave. He turned toward the tilled wall on his right, his small back facing the huge man next to him and his hands covering his half-hard dick. Brock noticed the skinny boy's back and decided he had to talk things through."Tristan, wait", he said as he turned off his own shower. He gently put his paw atop the boy's frail shoulders. Tristan jumped up as the huge man's paws covered his bony shoulders completely. "What the fuck are you doing, Brock?", he yelped in his high-pitched voice and tried to squirm free. "Calm down. I just want to talk.", Brock replied and gently spun the small boy around so he could look him in the eye.
  25. The muscle frat (1)

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