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Found 94 results

  1. MuscledJunk

    The Police Brute - Episodes I - III

    Disclaimers: It’s my first story so criticism is welcome While there is not much of it in this episode, there will be A LOT of violence in future installments. You have been warned. The Police Brute – Episode I Life is meant celebrated, to be enjoyed, to be lived. It is the constant pursuit of happiness, the search for a greater purpose, which keeps us going everyday. But what if you don’t believe there is any greater purpose for you, if you don’t think there is any happiness to be found in your life? Then you end up like me. A short, single and skinny gay police man with no friends, who spends his free time thinking about ways of killing himself. I wasn’t always like this. My life used be close to perfect, until I turned 14. That is when I realized I was gay. From there on it was all downhill. First my parents disowned me and kicked me out of the house, when I came out to them on my 17th birthday. After taking one glance at my parents, everyone could have guessed that this ultra-conservative couple would not tolerate a gay son, but I foolishly thought that they would change their views for me, their only son. Being young, dumb and broke I did what I could to survive, even if it meant doing the unspeakable. It started as a job on the side, once every two weeks, but it quickly turned into a daily affair and I have to tell you, being a young gay prostitute was not easy. I got mistreated, abused or just flat out robbed. When I turned 21, I decided it had been enough. The almost four years of hard, dirty work were finally over. I took all the money I had saved during that time and started college. College was another beast which I had to tame, but after what I had endured it seemed like a walk in park. Still I had problems connecting with people, especially men. Sadly college was over before I could learn how to get over my anxiety. Next up was the police academy. The experiences I had made on the street, had made me want to fight the grave injustices of this world. That was another foolish idea of mine. After 20 weeks I finally got my dream job and it was the shittiest thing in the world. I got overworked, underpaid and after some time I even forgot my original goal. That brings me to a day, that started like any other. I got to the station and waited for my partner, so we could start our patrol. He was late so I slowly got bored and started thinking of ways to end my miserable life. In the end I came to the conclusion that I would chicken out of it like usual. After what felt like an eternity, my boss, Alex came over to me and I thought he was going to tell me my partner called in sick or something, but he just stood there for a few moments until he finally muttered:” Pete...he-he got into a car accident last night. He didn’t make it.” I knew I was supposed feel sad or something, but truth is I didn’t really care for him that much. Alex let me go home to mourn for the weekend. Instead of mourning I watched old comedies on Netflix. When I walked into the station on Monday, I unknowingly began a new life. The first sign came when Lenny, our secretary handed me an XXXL uniform. “Um, I didn’t ask for a new uniform. Besides this one is kind of oversized,” I told him, as I tried to hand back the uniform. “The uniform isn’t for you. It’s for your new partner,” he replied. “Not to fat shame, but don’t people need to meet certain health standards to work here?” I asked. “You’re gonna be surprised,” he smirked. “Your new partner is waiting for you in your office, but first Alex wants to see you. In his office” That was the second odd thing that happened, because Alex barley ever let people into his office. A working theory was that he was secretly a cam-guy, but I believed he was just hiding the fact that he doesn’t do any actual work around here. Turns out I was right. But after arriving in his office I was too preoccupied by other things to realize that. Alex was sitting at his desk, his face plain as if he’d just seen a ghost. Or to be more precise, he was sitting in front of what used to be his desk. Now it was split in half, with dents all over it, looking like someone had broken it in half using their bare hands. I took a seat and instantly felt that something heavy had sat in the chair before me. “John I know these past few days have been hard for you with the passing of Pete, but we have already found a replacement,” he whispered, visibly shaken. “Good,” I replied. “Is there anything wrong?” “Your new partner is...intimidating,” Alex muttered. “He insisted on getting you as a partner, because of a...em...special quality of yours.” With those words he escorted me out of the room without saying anything more. Now I was confused. I approached my office with caution, breathing heavily, scared of what awaited me. Once I arrived at the door, I pulled down the handle and slowly started to push it open. Suddenly a deep, masculine and sensual voice came from inside the office. “You don’t have to be scared. I don’t bite,” he shouted. I stepped inside, only to witness a behemoth of a man who was stripped down to his underwear sitting on my chair. He stood up, so that I could see him in his full glory. The 260lbs man had a face that would give most models a run for their money. Lush black hair, sparkling blue eyes, beautiful lips, a sexy five o’clock and the most gorgeous jaw in the history of man kind. It only got better from there. His neck was as thick as some peoples thighs, with veins snaking over his boulder like shoulders, to his biceps. But calling them biceps was gravely downplaying their monstrosity. They were at least 23 inches with peaks worthy of the Mr. Olympia Stage. I was already drooling before I had even seen the best part. His chest was made of two globes, throbbing at every breath, threatening to explode out of their own skin. Hiding underneath the two balloons were eight stone hard bricks. You would think a man this big would have a huge gut, but no. He was ripped to the shreds with veins protruding out of his abs. Then I looked below his waist, a waist that was no wider than my own, and dropped the oversized uniform I was holding in my hands. Between his two mighty legs, which were almost as thick as my body, was an unbelievably huge bulge, almost visible through the giants thinly stretched underwear. He walked up to me, until I was in arms reach of his body. He lifted his left bicep and flexed it, at which point I let out a slight scream. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a faggot,” he said, as a devilish smile crept over his face.
  2. godofjurai

    INFINITY BREAKERS - PART 02

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

    The Flexorcist (27)

    Twenty-seven Tomas awoke from his deep and peaceful sleep. He stretched his 40 pound lighter body and mentally ordered his pet to come to his room. He then focused his attention on Connor but only found a blank, resting mind. “He must be sleeping after his fight with Alex”, he said to himself and got up from the bed. He put on his clothes and turned around as the door opened. Anton barged into the room and quizzically stared down at his master. “Are you smaller?”, he asked. “I gave 40 pounds of muscle to Connor to fight Alex”, Tomas replied in a bored tone. “Oh man. Now his bigger than me. Why didn’t you give me those extra muscles? I would have dominated everyone”, Anton said like a toddler being denied a new toy. “SILENCE!”, Tomas bellowed and snapped his fingers. Instantly, Anton’s 580 pound body left the floor and floated in the air. “You’re in no position to question my actions, my pet. You, like everyone else, are at my mercy. I can easily drain your muscles away and cast you in the darkest depths of Hell!”, Tomas said coldly, “Would you like to end like those runts Sean and Keith? Weak, skeleton-like boys without any strength?”. Tomas raised his left hand and lightning shot from his fingertips, hitting the ceiling inches away from Anton’s face. “No. No, I’m sorry”, Anton answered quickly. “I thought so”, Tomas said, “you have a special place in the upcoming ritual, my pet. Since you’re the first beast I’ve created, you’re central in the events at hand. Connor’s only job is to make sure he fulfills his destiny. Now, let’s get to the library and make things ready for the ritual”. Anton crashed down as Tomas ended his spell. He quickly got up and followed his master stepping through the mirror into the library. Aaron had given his keys to Alex and watched as the football player knocked Connor out cold and carried him off to his van. He walked through the now deserted wrestle hall and entered the locker room. He opened his locker but looked up as a big shadow fell over him. Before he could react two strong hands spun him around, grabbed hold of his singlet and lifted him up as his back was slammed against the lockers. Kurt stared the 110 pound lighter wrestler in the eye as he effortlessly held him up. “Where’s Connor,”, he snarled. Aaron squirmed in the bigger man’s grasp, his feet dangling in the air. “Where’s Connor, worm?”, Kurt repeated angrily and smacked the wrestler’s back hard against the metal lockers. “Augh”, Aaron grunted as his back dented the cold metal lockers, “He’s out. Please don’t hurt me”. Kurt groaned in anger; he had looked forward to worshipping Connor’s huge body. His cock hardened at the thought. Might as well have some fun, he thought and dropped the wrestler. “Suck me off”, he said as he ripped off his speedos. Aaron slumped to his knees and stared up at the thickly muscled swimmer looming over him. He knew he was no match for the way bigger athlete and moved in on the hard 8 incher smacking against the steroid bloated eight-pack in front of him. “For every round your cock shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle to me shall be past”, he mumbled softly. These words had just popped up in his mind and it seemed natural to speak them out loud. Kurt looked down and saw the wrestler open his mouth. He rammed his fully engorged 8 incher in it as the other athlete said something. Aaron gagged as the roided up swimmer’s cock invaded his mouth while he spoke the hellish formula. His tongue rubbed along the hard shaft as the last word escaped his mouth. “Yeaughn”, Kurt moaned as his cock exploded the second it made contact with the wrestler’s tongue. He didn’t even have time to blink as the intense pleasure of the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had rolled over his 280 pound body. Aaron eagerly sucked the salty cum away, gulping down every drop of it. Warmth was already spreading through his body and he grabbed hold of the swimmer’s thick quads for support. Kurt closed his eyes and let the feelings overwhelm him completely. His left hand grabbed the back of the wrestler’s head and he began shoving his cock back and forth in the other athlete’s mouth. Aaron answered Kurt’s enthusiasm by sucking his 8 incher even harder. He felt his singlet getting tighter and tighter as his muscles began feeding on the swimmer’s size. His delts bulged with new mass, doubling in size as they swelled outward. He looked at his growing biceps atop his thickening arms that held onto the swimmer’s deflating quads. “Yeaughn”, Kurt moaned once more, in a slightly higher voice. The swimmer was totally lost in pleasure as the wrestler gave him the blowjob of a lifetime. He stopped trusting his hips as his quads burned like they did after a long, hard workout. The mild burning sensation mixed with the electric bliss coursing through his shrinking frame. Aaron’s muscles kept beefing up on his growing frame. He felt his calves swelling with hard meat against his hardening hamstrings. His naturally strong quads thickened and began ripping his singlet. His six-pack bulged outward against the overstretched fabric, making tears appear all over it as they swelled to the size of coke cans. His muscular pecs began protruding more and more from his chest, pushing his hard nipples through the now paper-thin fabric of his singlet. His strong hands found more room on the swimmer’s ever shrinking quads. He intensified his sucking on the now 7 incher in his mouth. Incoherent sounds escaped Kurt’s mouth and drool dripped from his lips as various sensations overwhelmed his mind. Pleasure, exhaustion, the mild burning sensation that spread to more and more of his muscles, a tingle of what felt like weakness; it all mixed together into the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. Aaron gazed up at the swimmer and a faint smile formed on his lips: his once steroid bloated abs now looked like a runner’s 4-pack; the formerly protruding pecs no longer blocked his view of the swimmer’s face and kept receding into his chest; the deflating quads felt like weak sponges in his swelling hands, his long fingers were almost touching around the shrinking legs; the cock in his mouth was now well below 5 inches and kept shriveling down as it released more loads down his hungry throat. A burning sensation spread in Kurt’s balls as they began protesting from being drained so much. It quickly turned into a stabbing pain that overcame the pleasure of his ongoing orgasm. A loud snapping sound made him open his eyes and look down. His mouth fell open in disbelief: it looked like the hulk was sucking him off. Aaron’s swelling muscles had won the fight against the elastic singlet. The straps snapped and shot loose as the rising traps grew higher and higher, the inflating pecs kept pushing the singlet further and further away from the wrestler’s chest, his thickening and widening lats pulled the fabric backward and outward. The shattered remains draped around his still growing frame as sweat made them stick against and highlight his huge muscles. Kurt stared at the bulging and swelling mounds of muscle on the wrestler’s widening back. He looked down and gasped as he realized where the wrestler’s new size came from: his once majestic, 290 pound body was now a mere 160 and shrinking. He pulled his 4.5 incher from the hungry mouth. Or tried to. Aaron felt the now 150 pound swimmer pulling back his cock. He hardened his hold on the other athlete’s legs, his fingers easily touching around the meager sticks and digging into the now soft muscle, and lifted him off the floor. His tongue effortlessly overpowered the still hard 4 incher and milked out some more cum. Kurt squirmed with all the might left in his weakened body but the huge wrestler’s grip held him in place. His shrinking balls protested with hard, painful, burning stabs as they were emptied from their last, watery drops. He gasped as he noticed that the wrestler’s arms were twice the size of his own legs. His vision went dark and he sank away in unconsciousness as his once hulking body settled in at 90 pounds. Aaron felt the swimmer go limp in his grip. He licked the last drip from the now pathetic cock in his mouth and tossed the once intimidating swimmer aside. The limp, frail body flew across the locker room and crashed down against the furthest row of lockers, failing to dent them on impact. The now 7 feet, 380 pound Aaron stood up and grinned as his big paws roamed the hot surface of his newly grown, hard muscles on his chest. He flexed the protruding rack of beef, making it bounce under his right hand. His left paw explored his eight-pack, tracing in and out the deep ridges separating the strong abs. Sean, Keith and Logan were getting ready to pick up Matt at the hospital as Logan’s phone rang. “Hello?”, he said. … “I thought we could pick him up tonight, doctor?” … “Okay. Tell him we’ll come visit him first thing in the morning. Bye.” Sean and Keith looked at the fallen quarterback. “The hospital”, Logan said, “They have to do some more tests to see if Matt has recovered completely. It will take a few more days before he can leave the hospital.” “I suggest we still leave campus tonight”, Sean stated, “Once Mike and Paul are back from the gym we can take our stuff and move into a hotel room. We have to avoid making contact with Tomas or his gang of muscle freaks.” “Let’s start packing our bags then”, Keith replied and began emptying the closet. Sean and Logan followed his example and soon enough they were packed and ready to go. Tomas and Anton stepped through the large mirror and entered the library. Anton always wondered how his master was able to create these passages. “Just a small proof of my ever-increasing powers, my pet”, Tomas replied to the unspoken question. A faint noise made them look at the center of the vast reading room. A huge, muscled creature was awaiting them at what looked like an altar. “Connor”, Anton said eagerly, excited to discover his new massive size and marched toward the muscle beast his master had grown past his own huge dimensions. “Guess again”, the creature said and turned around. “Alex!”, Anton spat out angrily. Anton noticed how his own muscles clearly outsized Alex’ ones and charged at him. Tomas just stared at the scene and saw his pet storming at the other beast before he could react. “What did you do to Connor?”, Anton bellowed deeply, his voice echoing against the high walls of the vast reading room. He jumped up in the air and launched himself at his adversary. “You’re about to find out”, Alex replied coolly. He made a fist, pulled back his monstrous, 55 inch right arm and threw a punch with all his force. Anton saw the big fist coming at him but couldn’t dodge it as he was mere inches away from his opponent. A loud, sickening, cracking sound sounded as Alex concrete-hard fist collided with Anton’s nose. The 580 pound behemoth flew backward and crashed down several feet away, blood flowing from his flattened nose, knocked out cold by his 500 pound enemy. “Put him on the altar!” Alex looked away from his battered opponent and faced Tomas. He nodded, grabbed Anton, threw him onto his beastly left shoulder and carried him over to the altar. He tossed the 580 pound beast with his back onto the stone altar and stepped back, awaiting further instructions. “Chain him!” Alex squatted down and put the heavy, metal chains around Anton’s wrists and ankles, securing the 580 pound beast firmly atop the altar. “Rip off his clothes!” Alex stood up, his massive quads bulging in the process, and effortlessly ripped off Anton’s skintight clothes, exposing his huge frame. He stared in admiration at the hard masses of beef that protruded from Anton’s body and at the cock, 15 inches of soft meat, that lay over his big bull-sized balls atop the altar. “Have you taken care of the football team?” Tomas’ question pulled Alex from his awe and he faced his master. “I’ve drained Logan’s muscles to get huge myself. I’ve trashed the others during practice. Matt’s still in the hospital and Mike and Paul know who’s boss”, he said. “Not good enough”, Tomas reacted, “I have to be sure they won’t interfere with the ritual. You’re the champion from Hell mentioned in the ancient manuscript. You’ve taken down several men despite them out sizing you, even when I had beefed up Connor some more…” “It just felt natural to take him on”, Alex interrupted, “ The instant he entered my room I just felt an urge to prove I could take him. I didn’t…” Tomas shut him up with a sign from his hand. “No need to apologize, champion”, Tomas said, “I hadn’t read the entire manuscript until then. I thought that Anton was the champion of Hell ‘cause he had defeated Sean and Keith. I already had my doubts when he said that Connor had beaten him in arm wrestling. The true champion would never lose a physical challenge, not even something silly as a arm wrestling. When Connor mentioned your name, I dove into your mind and saw the incredible amount of aggressiveness waiting to break free. I discovered you had always bullied other kids despite your puny size. So I decided to give you the body to match that aggressiveness.” “But why did you make Connor grow after our first fight?”, Alex asked, “You knew I was the champ”. “I wanted a final test to be sure”, Tomas replied with a grin, “I knew that if you could take down a 100 pound bigger opponent, no one would be able to stop you. Why did Aaron revealed Connor’s weak spot, you think? Some infernal inspiration I put into his mind at that time. You’ve trashed Connor three times: in the locker room, in the shower zone and finally in the wrestle hall. And now, you’ve knocked out my pet with one blow.” The smug grin on Alex’ face got wider and wider as he listened to Tomas. “Now that I’ve decrypted the manuscript completely, everything has become clear to me”, Tomas continued, “Sean and Keith aren’t necessary for the ritual: Anton has absorbed their muscles. He’s the ultimate sacrifice needed to set things in motion at the stroke of midnight.” “And what about Connor?”, Alex asked. “You may keep him, champ”, Tomas answered, “I’ve seen you put him in Aaron’s van and know what you and Aaron are up to. Soon I’ll command the armies of Hell and hordes of infernal creatures will carry out every order I give. Until then, I have one final assignment for you. Matt is in room 302 of the hospital. Go and do what must be done. Aaron will take care off Mike and Paul. Then you guys may go to the south and live your life. But be aware: there might be a day when I call you, champ, and Aaron back in action. Now go!” Alex nodded and exited the library, heading toward the hospital for his final assignment. Aaron ended his self worship. The same voice that had ordered him to reveal Connor’s weakness to Alex during their fight, now ordered him turn around. Aaron turned his head and noticed the sound of running water. He hadn’t noticed it before, being focused on sucking off Kurt and then worshipping his own, beefed up frame. He swaggered over to the shower zone and the sound of two voices mixed in with that of the running water. He entered the actual shower area and discovered two heavily muscled football players under the showers at the furthest wall. Mike and Paul were enjoying a long, hot shower after their grueling workout. “Man, doesn’t it feel great being back in the gym”, Mike said to his buddy. “Yeah”, Paul replied, “the pump’s incredible after a week off. I’ve never been this hard after training since my first workout in high school. Feels like I could explode right here.” Mike glanced aside and saw his 275 pound teammate’s rock hard, 10 inch cock pointing straight at the tilled wall they were facing as he soaped his pumped muscles. “You horny dog”, he said laughingly and gently stroked his own semi-hard cock as he let the hot water rain down on his 263 pound frame. “Alpha dog, you mean”, Paul answered grinningly, “biggest, strongest, most muscular and horniest man on the team.” His untouched 10 incher throbbed as he spoke. “We’re gonna ace those practice tests”, Mike stated and kept stroking his own, further hardening cock A shadow fell over them. A big, strong hand grabbed onto their round shoulders and span them around. Before they could react, the strong hand pressed against their protruding chests and pushed their backs against the tilled wall. Mike and Paul stared at the massive, black man in front of them: he outsized them by at least 100 pounds of rock hard muscle that had ripped his singlet to pieces. They felt like deer caught in a headlight and didn’t budge. “For every round your cocks shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle shall be past” Paul’s already throbbing 10 incher exploded instantly and blasted load after load of cum onto the wrestler’s abdomen. Mike’s cock followed this lead and jolted to complete hardness in his hand. After Paul’s fourth load, it began shooting his own man juice onto the abs in front of him. “YEAGH!” Aaron boomed in triumph, closed his eyes and tilted back his head. He heard the football player’s cum splatter against his eight-pack and felt the heat spreading through his 7 feet, 380 pound body. Paul’s horned up body kept blasting out cum at an incredible rate: for every load Mike’s 8 incher shot, his 10 incher produced three. He and Mike stared at their cum drenching the hard abs in front of them while orgasm raced through them. Aaron’s eight-pack was completely covered by the massive amount of sticky cum the football players kept pumping out. Not a single drop of it slid down onto the floor, though. The cum quickly absorbed into his frame, spreading into his muscles to feed them. The warmth throughout his 380 pound body kept increasing, announcing an even more impressive growth than in the locker room. “Augh”, Aaron grunted as his body began its growth into pure godhood. Mike and Paul gaped at the lengthening wrestler in front of them. Their eyes widened as they felt their bodies being stretched upward: the wrestler’s hands pushed them against the wall and slowly travelled upward, pulling both their 263 and 275 pound bodies along on his way toward the ceiling. The football player’s calves flexed into hard, diamond-shaped mounds as they were forced to stand on their toes to accord to the wrestler’s rising. The whole time their still stubbornly hard cocks kept splattering cum against the abdomen wrapped in ripped remains of the singlet. Aaron felt his lengthening slowing down: his body stopped going upward as it reached 9 feet. The warmth shifted from his bones and made its way into the wrestler’s still unchanged, yet already huge muscles. Pleasure wrote itself all across Aaron’s handsome, square and masculinity-screaming face. “Muugh. Yeah!”, he grunted between his clenched teeth as the next phase of his growth began. Paul and Mike noticed and recognized the look of pure ecstasy on the wrestler’s face. They gulped, their tongues scraping in their dry mouths, as they saw the huge muscles on the towering frame in front of them bulging with new mass. By now their balls were completely dry and the infernal spell was transforming their hard earned muscles into cum that escaped their diminishing frames through their blasting cocks. Paul’s 10 incher maintained its higher frequency but since his balls were way bigger than Mike’s, his muscles began shrinking at about the same time as Mike’s. The football players didn’t notice their own decrease as they were still overcome by the feeling of orgasm coursing through them and the impressive sight before them. “YEAGH!” Aaron’s huge muscles soaked up the warmth like sponges. His calves exploded from the back of his long legs as the diamond-shaped muscle doubled in size; his nicely round ass ballooned outward as his hamstrings swelled with rock-hard mass; his kneecaps looked ridiculously tiny and were totally obscured by the prominent and large teardrop-shape that bulged at the edges of his quads; cuts, striations and veins pushed against the paper-thin skin as the cords of muscle in his quads inflated outwards, thickening his long legs beyond the size of a normal tree. Mike and Paul couldn’t believe what they were seeing. A mixture of weakness and fatigue began dominating the orgasm exploding through them. An increasing burn spread painfully in their flexed calves. Mike broke his gaze from the broadening beast and looked down. He inhaled sharply as he discovered his own diminishing frame: his once huge, 263 pound body was now well beyond 200 pounds and going down even further. The wrestler’s big paw now covered his chest almost completely and he could feel the increasing strength as it pushed him harder and harder against the tilled wall. He looked aside and saw that Paul was undergoing the same changes and looked already smaller than him. “Paul! Paul!”, he said to his buddy. Paul didn’t react. His big balls and naturally through-the-roof level of testosterone combined with the insane pump and horned-up state from his workout intensified his trance. He’d been on the verge of orgasm under the shower before Aaron appeared and that had made him very susceptible to the infernal spell. The muscles on his once 275, now 175 pound body were pulled into his balls, transformed into cum and blasted out at high speed as the orgasm of a lifetime overwhelmed him completely. Mike saw the pleasure-filled expression on his buddy’s face and knew he was totally off. He tried punching Paul with his left arm but couldn’t reach him: the wrestler holding them was broadening and pulled them further apart. “MORE” Aaron groaned in pleasure, tilting back his head further and keeping his eyes closed as he savored in the pleasure and warmth of the growth. This felt so much better than his first growth in the locker room. His huge torso followed the example of his legs and grew to godlike dimensions. His cum-drenched abdomen swelled harder and bigger, turning from eight-pack into a 12-pack; the canyons separating the large, cobblestone-sized muscles were at least an inch deep; all the while, they kept absorbing the cum and turning it into fuel for his growth; his half-watermelon-sized pecs, inflated with more rock-hard mass as they turned into and then surpassed the size of whole watermelons; the thick, striated, vein-infested slabs of beef protruded from his chest, looking like two broad pillows shoved underneath the paper-thin, black skin; his round, broad delts pumped up with meat like two balloons being inflated; they swelled larger than cannonballs, the separations between the individual heads of the muscles clearly visible, capping his broader-than-two-wide-doors shoulders with perfectly round, globes of beef. Mike felt his body go weaker and weaker as more of his muscles escaped him through his cock. He knew there was no way he could reach his buddy anymore. He would have to break free from the giant’s hold as soon as possible if he wanted to maintain some of his muscles. The fear of being drained down completely fought with the pleasure in his mind and he felt the cursed orgasm beginning to cool down. The loads of cum blasted less frequently from his cock. He bit on his tongue hard and the pain overpowered the lessened orgasm. His cock began deflating instantly and an agonizing pain stabbed in his drained balls. The second his cock stopped blasting out cum, the hand on his chest released its grip and he slumped down on the tilled floor. Mike summoned every ounce of strength left in his fatigued, 140 pound body and slowly crept toward the exit. Before leaving the shower zone, he looked back and saw Paul’s feet leaving the floor as he shriveled down further in the growing giant’s grip. Aaron had sensed Mike’s spent orgasm and had released him instantly: he didn’t want to lose any time on a dried source. He focused his entire attention on the other football player and kept his eyes shut as he concentrated on the pleasure of his growth. Atop his now beastly shoulders, his traps swelled into pillars of meat that doubled his strong neck in size; the thick vein travelling from the top of his pillow-sized chest over his larger-than-cannonballs-sized delts aside his biceps, began pumping warmth and energy into his arms; his thick, low-hanging triceps jolted lower at the back of his arms, doubling them in size as the horseshoe-sized muscles beefed up with steely hard mass; his biceps simply shot upward, swelling into vein-covered bowling balls of raw power; it seemed like someone was pouring hard concrete into them as they turned into 60 inch orbs of ripped meat; his forearms, now effortlessly holding onto the pathetic football player, tripled in size as the cable-like cords of muscles wove themselves thicker and broader along his long forearms; his paws grew accordingly and half of his right hand now covered Paul’s chest completely. Paul’s incredible orgasm wore down and he opened his eyes. He felt totally disorientated and weak. He could feel his feet dangling in the air and something was pressing hard into his chest and shoving him against the tilled wall. He gasped loudly, a high pitch escaping his mouth, as he saw the huge paw that looked as large as his now pathetic torso. His gaze followed the impossibly wide forearm, marveling at the thick veins feeding the cords of muscle, travelled upward to the mountain-like, yet relaxed bicep, licking his lips in awe, and finally looked up into the face of the god that held him. When the final tingle of growth subsided in his now 9 feet, 700 pound godlike body, Aaron opened his eyes and stared straight into the diminished football player’s eyes. He pulled him closer to his body, his massive 60 inch arm not even bulging: the 75 pound fallen jock felt like a feather in his grasp. Paul shivered in the god’s paw: never before had he felt this weak. Fear filled his mind as he realized that he was completely in the grasp of the muscle god; the man could break him by simply clenching his fist. Fear mixed with lust as his eyes roamed the bulging mounds of hard, striated beef that fought for room on the wrestler’s incredible physique. The god’s deep dark, paper-thin skin highlighted the huge muscles beyond anything he’d ever seen. His now feeble 2 inch cock hardened at the sight. “So, you called yourself an alpha dog”, Aaron boomed. The rich, deeper-than-a-subwoofer baritone echoed across the shower zone, engulfed Paul and vibrated deeply in his body. “Ughn”, he peeped in his now high-pitched, girly voice as his 2 incher pumped a final load from his pee-sized balls and shot it from his shaft. Aaron saw the smaller-than-a-water-drop load coming and caught it on his tongue. “Ah, a final coat”, he said as he felt the effect instantly on his body. “So, mister alpha dog”, he said as he turned his attention back to Paul, “you look more like a weak kitten to me. A bug in my grasp, ready to be crushed.” “No, please”, Paul peeped, “I’ll do anything you say”. Aaron didn’t listen. He simply clenched his fist, breaking every bone in Paul’s pathetic body and tossed the lifeless football player in the furthest corner of the shower zone. He swaggered over into the locker room and marveled as he pulled on his former clothes and they magically adjusted to his new frame. In the library Tomas had everything ready for the upcoming ritual. He had followed the action in the shower zone through the mirror and was very pleased: soon all of his threats would have been dealt with and nothing would stop him from ruling the earth. He looked aside as he heard the sound of rattling chains. Anton regained consciousness after the hard blow to his face. A severe pain pounded in his nose on the rhythm of his heartbeat. He tried touching his battered nose but heavy chains held his arms in place. “Shit, Alex has tied me down”, he thought as he saw Tomas appear next to him. “Ah, you’re awake, my pet”, Tomas said to Anton, “just in time for the ritual”. “Let me go, Tomas”, Aton pleaded, “Alex could be back any minute”. “Alex won’t be back”, Tomas replied, “he’s carrying out his assignment as we speak. He secured you like I ordered him to do.” “What? You ordered him? Why?”, Anton yelled in disbelief and rattled his chains more violently. “You have a special place in the upcoming ritual, my pet”, Tomas answered, “Since you’ve absorbed muscles from both Keith and Sean, you can easily take their place.” “Take their place? How?”, Anton asked while trying to get free, flexing his huge muscles in the process. “Don’t you get it? You’re the sacrifice that will initiate the ritual! Image the supreme honor you have!”, Tomas replied. “Sacrifice?...”, Anton yelled but froze mid-phrase as Tomas rammed his cock into his ass. “Yes, my pet”, Tomas grunted in between violent trusts, “you’re the counterweight that’ll let me open the gates of Hell!”. He shoved his engorged 15 incher back and forth in his pet’s tight ass and groped his thick, bulging rack of pecs. “But… I’ve protected you from that priest. Helped you take down Sean and Keith.”, Anton pleaded, pulling at the chains with all his might. “Yeah, flex those muscles”, Tomas grunted, his 15 incher exploded in his pet’s ass as he felt the incredibly dense pecs harden into concrete-like slabs of beef under his touch. “You’ve served me very well and you know… I’m gonna miss the feeling of my cock jammed up your tight, muscular ass. But your time has come to fulfill your destiny: sink into the darkest depths of Hell to open its gates for my armies of evil!”, Tomas said and pulled his cock from his pet’s ass and went over to the corner of the reading room to get some rest before the ritual, leaving Anton fighting against the chains in vain. “Please, let me go. I’ll do anything you say”, Anton begged in vain. At the hospital, Alex had effortlessly discovered the fire exit like Tomas had explained. He quickly mounted the iron stairs to the third floor and moved to the second window on his left. He glanced through it and smiled as he saw Matt lying on his bed. He silently opened the window and stepped into the room. Matt was actually enjoying his stay in the hospital. He was safe here and the nurses were very kind, especially that 20-something blonde that had helped him this morning. It had begun with her gently washing his battered torso, groping his muscular chest with her frail hands and him flexing them under her touch. By the time she had reached his abs, both of them had been breathing fast and he’d seen the lust in her eyes. He’d gotten up, locked the door and positioned her against the wall and fucked her right there. The light touch of her delicate hands and the excited noises she’d whispered in his ear, he’d sent him over the edge in record time. She’d even came back in the afternoon to ‘check on his condition’. The thought of her made his cock harden, making a tent under the sheets. Suddenly, the sheets were pulled violently away. “Excited to see me?” Matt recognized the deep voice and shivers of fear crossed his 255 pound body. He reached up to grab the alarm but a large paw pressed down hard on his chest. Pain exploded through him as his broken ribs protested against the harsh treatment. Alex grabbed the alarm above Matt’s head and simply yanked it from the wall before tossing it across the room. “HELP! HELP!”, Matt yelled in panic, struggling against his tormentor. Alex grabbed a sheet and shoved it into Matt’s open mouth, silencing his screams. “For every round you’re cock shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle shall be past!” Before Matt could react, his rigid cock jolted to full hardness and throbbed in the air. He tried holding back his orgasm, but as his rock-hard 8 incher was engulfed by the wet hotness of Alex’ mouth, he lost it. His balls churned and began pumping away his mass into the already massive beast looming over him. Alex smiled as he swallowed load after load of cum, his own cock rock-hard in his pants from excitement. He sucked with all his force, teasing and overpowering the shaft with his tongue to force out as much as possible. His growth began instantly. His body sprang upward until it settled in at just over 9 feet. His legs exploded with mass: his diamond shaped calves simply doubled in size, his hamstrings amassing more hard mass below his juicy, rock-hard ass that ballooned into two perfectly round bowling balls of beef, his already tree-sized quads bulged menacingly as the thick cords of muscle forming them, jolted outward with more mass; his tight pants stretched and stretched and adapted to his new size as Tomas had promised. He could see the titanic mass of hard, striated, vein-infested meat through his pants; he flexed his quads, making the outlines and cuts of the hard muscles dance underneath the skintight fabric. Matt tried fighting against the growing beast that was sucking him dry. He felt more and more muscle disappear from his well-trained physique and a great weakness spreading through his body. He squirmed and budged, ignoring the sharp pain from his protesting ribs. Alex did no longer notice the weakening attempts to break free in his own empowering grip. He focused on the pleasure of his growth and let his muscles swell him straight into godhood. His strong 12-pack stretched and beefed up as the cobblestone-sized muscles hardened, deepening the canyons between them even more; his huge pecs pumped up with mass, making his nipples point straight down to the ground and protruding threateningly from his chest, casting shadows over the top half of his armor-like abs; striations, outlined against his protesting yet adapting, skintight shirt, rippled across the wide surface as he breathed in and out. Energy left Matt’s body as it sank below 150 pounds. His struggle in Alex’ grip didn’t even budge the beast’s fingers anymore and the swelling hand atop his battered torso felt heavier and heavier with every passing second and now covered his flattening chest completely and even part of his vanishing abs. Meanwhile, Alex’ inflating monster dick had freed itself from his skintight jeans. It escaped from its fabric prison, pulsing with power as it pointed straight forward along the bottom of the hospital bed. The lengthening and thickening shaft grew past its impressive 20 inches as fat veins pumped more mass into it. It strengthened further with every inch it grew and began pushing against the bottom of the bed, lifting it slowly as the throbbing shaft amassed even more length and girth. Matt tried kicking the giant in the ribs, but his weak kicks bounced off the growing god’s muscular flanks. He gave up the fight and let tears roll over his cheeks as he watched his own body shrivel down to skeleton-like skinniness and felt his bed undulating on the rhythm of the beast’s inflating monster cock. The weak kicks felt like a tingle against his strong obliques and Alex simply intensified his sucking on the shrinking dick in his mouth. His boulder-like shoulders widened further as his hard delts swelled with mass; their perfect roundness dwarfed cannonballs, passed into and just beyond the size of large bowling balls and accentuated his already incredible v-taper further. His body knew his love for his oversized biceps and the epitome of Alex’ growth concentrated on his majestic arms. They had been swelling steadily alongside the instant growth of his other muscles, but now that those had reached their new dimensions, their growth kicked into overdrive. Matt sank away deeper and deeper as his vital energy kept being drained away. He was now well below 80 pounds and every visible muscle had already evaporated from his body. It even took a great effort to keep his eyes open. Black dots danced at the edges of his field of vision as he stared at the swelling god sucking on his now nearly disappeared cock. Alex felt the intense growth of his arms and upped his sucking on the tiny dick; the head of the pencil-thin cock barely made it past his own lips anymore. His triceps beefed up at the back of his arms; low hanging cords of beef that easily withstood the pull of gravity, that screamed power by the cuts and veins decorating them, the size of 10 horseshoes forged together; his biceps mounded upward as rock-hard meat found its way into the orbs, turning them into hideously large, beach ball-sized mountains crisscrossed with river-like veins that outsized Alex’ head as he flexed his left arm to check his canons. He relaxed his arm, grabbed Matt’s puny balls and clenched them hard. A faint grunt, no louder than the sound of a fly, escaped between Matt’s frail lips. The last energy was forced from his body as the god’s paw crushed his balls. Matt passed out, nothing more than a dry mummy, at the same time the god’s 30 inch, monster cock throbbed violently and tipped over his bed as it exploded violently, coating the room with his superior cum. Alex got up breathing hard, put his slowly deflating cock in his skintight pants and headed for the window. Realizing he would no longer fit through it, he hit the wall with his right shoulder, busting right through it and disappeared into the night. Back at Orchid university, Tomas began his incantations at the altar in the library. “Penates meorum, spirites infernae, audite precationam meam! Accipite hanc victima! Da mei imperium exerciti infernae!” Anton put every ounce of strength he could summon of his huge muscles into his struggle against the rusty chains. He wiggled and tore, striations and veins exploding over his immense body in the process, but the hellish irons easily held his 580 pounds in place. He pleaded in panic but his master didn’t listen. Tears began flowing over his cheeks as he felt the altar begin to shudder. “Bestia mea victima est! Fortia per potentia! Aperte portas infernae!” Howling, hideous bats suddenly appeared and circled above the sacrifice on the altar. Anton shivered in fear as the beasts dove to him, evading his majestic body by altering their flight at the very last moment. He screamed in horror as the black bats crapped all over his torso: the stinking fluid burned into him and seemed to pull him into the stone altar. The last thing he saw was his master looking down on him and then the altar gave away and he felt his 580 pounds of muscle plummet into the unfathomable depths of Hell. A deafening thunder rolled over Orchid university, shaking the majestic buildings violently as Anton disappeared into Hell. A shinning, red vortex emerged were the altar had been and hordes of dark, hideously deformed, soldier like creatures jumped from it. They kneeled in front of Tomas, awaiting his orders. “Bring me world domination”, Tomas bellowed loudly. The creatures jumped up and scattered off to all directions; new soldiers jumping from the vortex as the others left the library. Sean, Keith and Logan wondered what took Mike and Paul and headed to the gym to find their buddies. The loud thunder made them jump up and look at each other. “Tomas must have began the ritual”, Keith said, “Let’s hurry and find Mike and Paul and disappear from campus!”. The three fallen athletes rushed over to the gym. They looked around the deserted room and barged into the locker room. The deflated, now 120 pound Mike looked up as he heard the door from the gym open. He weakly extended his skinny arm in the direction of his friends. Sean, Keith and Logan recognized their formerly very well muscled buddy and fear filled them. “What happened and where’s Paul?”, Logan asked as he kneeled down by his teammate. “Aaron stole our size under the shower. He killed Paul. Crushed him in his grip”, Mike muttered weakly, tears flowing from his eyes. Before Sean, Keith or Logan could react, the door of the locker room flew open and several howling creatures threw themselves on them. The weak boys were no match for the hellish legions in Tomas’ command: unhesitatingly the hideous soldiers slaughtered the four buddies and continued their invasion of the university. Alex and Aaron hadn’t lost a single second: once Aaron had drained Mike and Paul, he’d returned to his van, had knocked out the slowly awaking Connor and had driven off. He’d picked up the now humongous Alex at the back of the hospital and they had left town at full speed. A few hours later, they had reached a luxurious villa hidden in the mountains of northern Mexico. “Tomas has rewarded us well”, Aaron said appreciatively as he scanned the outside of the immense villa. “Ah, you have arrived!” Aaron and Alex turned to the car and saw Tomas’ face in one of the windows. “I’ve arranged everything, my champs”, Tomas said, “There are two blind servants awaiting you inside.” “Why blind ones?”, Aaron asked. “They will keep contact with the outside world when they go shopping. They will be unable to reveal your incredible size since they cannot see you. Enjoy your reward but remember that I can call you guys in action any minute. Don’t keep me waiting then or you’ll suffer the fate of my enemies!” Alex and Aaron stared at their own reflections in the car window as Tomas’ face disappeared from it. The two muscle gods entered their new home and grinned as they scanned the room. Alex ordered their two servants to go shopping for huge quantities of food and sent them off. “I’m gonna take a dive in the pool. You take care off Connor”, Alex said and swaggered outside toward the pool. Aaron looked at his fellow muscle god, seeing him strip and dive into the pool. He returned to the van, pulled out the still knocked out Connor, threw the 600 pound wrestler on his beastly, perfectly round, bowling ball-sized shoulder and walked back into the villa. A sudden illumination hit his mind and Aaron strutted toward the basement. As he left the stairs behind, he walked through a large wrestle room, the walls entirely covered with mirrors from floor the ceiling. He lowered Connor from his shoulder and tossed him down on the mats in the center of the room. He continued walking and smiled broadly as he opened the door at the back of the wrestle room: a fully equipped gym with impossible amounts of weights. He left the door open, ripped off his shirt, loaded the bar above one of the benches and began bench pressing 500 pounds, blood pumping into his massive pecs as he blasted out rep after rep. He racked the bar as he heard a faint sound and got up from the bench. Connor regained consciousness and looked around. Disorientation and a slight headache filled his mind as he scanned the room. He got up slowly, realizing he was in a wrestle room but didn’t know where he was. “Good! You’re awake.” The deep, rich, thunder-like baritone that filled the room and rattled the mirrors made him turn around. Connor looked up in awe and surprise at the titanic, shirtless beast entering the room and coming toward him. His eyes roamed the humongous, ripped muscles highlighted by the giant’s paper-thin, black skin. His mouth fell open in disbelief as he gazed up at the strong and squared jaw line, covered by a stubbly beard on the masculinity oozing face. “God”, he muttered as his brain recognized the black teammate he’d tossed around the wrestle hall back at university earlier that day. “That’s the right way to address me: GOD!,” Aaron boomed as he stopped in front of Connor. He grinned as he saw the wrestler scanning the huge mounds of muscle on his godlike frame. “Funny how quickly things can change”, Aaron said, “this morning you’ve ridiculed me in the gym in front of the entire wrestle team…” “I’m sorry”, Connor said in his deep voice, realizing how high-pitched it sounded next to Aaron’s baritone rumble, “I didn’t…” “Then you’ve trashed me in the wrestle hall”, Aaron continued, drowning Connor’s voice in his thunder-like baritone, “I want a rematch”. Connor gulped at these words. He looked up at the one foot taller muscle god’s face. Aaron saw the look of fear in the wrestler’s eyes and smirked. “You were more than twice my weight this morning. I only outweigh ya by a 100 pounds. And you’re already dressed for it. Let’s do this!”, he said coolly. Connor looked down and discovered he was still wearing his ripped singlet. He realized there was no escaping this fight, inhaled deeply and took his starting position in front of the muscle god, trying to ignore how the god’s impossibly wide shoulders eclipsed his own insanely broad ones. “Ready when you are, boy”, Aaron said. Connor’s wrestle instincts knew he had to take this beast by surprise and he jolted into action. He shot forward and grabbed hold of his opponent’s thick, muscular neck with his left hand while his right hand shot upward. Aaron anticipated this move and copied it: the instant Connor’s hand positioned itself atop his neck, his own left paw grabbed the wrestler’s neck, covering it easily; his right paw interlocked with the wrestler’s big, right hand, engulfing it completely. Connor tried to ignore how the muscle god dwarfed him and focused back on the match. He knew his surprise attack had failed and tapped onto his own devastating strength. He pulled with all his might on his opponent’s thickly muscled neck, his 50 inch bicep bulging with power and the cords of muscles on his broad forearms swelling from the effort. Aaron smiled as he saw the 600 pound wrestler’s face turn red from the immense effort. He slightly flexed his legs, making his monster quads harden a bit but easily withstood the superhuman force. Connor grunted from the effort, feeling the warmth spreading through his reddening face. The large paw on his neck forced him to look down as it began overpowering his strong traps and he gasped as he noticed the slowly flexing quads of the god in front of him. He pulled even harder on his opponent’s neck, his 50 inch arm shaking from the effort, but the muscle god didn’t budge. “Oh! You’ve already begun”, Aaron said mockingly and put some tension on his own 60 inch arm, making his paw sink into the flexed traps atop the wrestler’s neck. Connor responded to the attack by fully flexing his titanic quads. The huge muscle bulged outward as the thick cords of rock hard beef swelled into incredible hardness. Panic flickered through his mind as his huge, 600 pound body was slowly dragged toward the muscle god despite his efforts. Aaron grinned as he saw the struggle and efforts turning the wrestler’s face into a beat red, mask of pain. He tapped onto the full force of his 60 inch arm and pulled the giant in his grasp swiftly toward him. Connor didn’t know what happened: one moment he was struggling with all his might to maintain his ground, the next his face slammed into the protruding slabs of concrete-hard, hot meat that protruded from the god’s chest. The huge paw engulfing his own right hand released its hold and instantly a forearm, thicker than a young tree, wrapped itself around his broad lower back like a huge snake across a prey; a hard, cannonball-sized bicep dug into his strong obliques. The paw digging into his neck, slid upward, grabbed the back of his head and pushed him into the deep canyon separating the protruding pecs. Aaron enjoyed overpowering the giant that had played with him a few hours earlier. “Coach was always yakking about technique, but nothings beats the feeling of simply dominating an opponent with raw strength”, Aaron said into Connor’s ear and hardened his hold. Connor tried resisting the muscle god, but his strength could not be denied. He was smacked even harder against the hot masses of hard meat covering the 9 feet frame. His nose was filled with the masculine scent of sweat and musk deep inside the canyon between the muscle god’s pecs. His tongue traced the contours of the striated, pillow-sized muscles, filling his mouth with the salty taste of male sweat as it found the bottom of the deep canyon. Aaron felt the tickly sensation of the slick tongue between his pecs and pulled the 600 pound wrestler harder into his own humongous frame as he flexed his chest. Connor felt the protruding slabs of meat harden, nearly braking his nose by the sheer force they produced. The tip of his tongue disappeared into the deepened striations it snaked along. His hands roamed the impossibly wide back, discovering hard, prominent mounds of beef that bulged from the effort and fought for space on the broad surface. His long cock hardened against the hard mass of the muscle god’s left quad. Aaron felt the hardening snake of meat swelling against his beastly quad. He flexed his leg, overpowering and trapping the inflating cock between his own quad and the wrestler’s one. He felt his own majestic, monster cock going plump. He released his hold and pushed the wrestler down. “Suck off your god, boy”, he said as he ripped off his own pants to free his growing monster. Connor sank to his knees as the muscle god pushed him down. He marveled at the lengthy, black snake hardening quickly between the bigger-than-a-tree-sized quads. His own 20 incher was rock-hard as his hand made contact with the god’s cock. He couldn’t close his big hand around the growing cock’s girth. He tried denting it by clenching his strong fist, but the swelling snake resisted and even pried open his grip as it kept inflating. Aaron shivered as he felt the steely grip clenching around his hardening dick, his divine muscles flexing slightly in the process. “Too weak, boy”, he said as his cock overpowered the strong grip. Connor released the thick cock and it smacked him hard in the face as it jolted upward to stick out straight from the muscle god’s body. He gasped as he stared directly at the 35 inch, thick, black snake crisscrossed with veins. He opened his mouth as widely as possible and took in the cone apple-sized head. Aaron grunted in pleasure as the hot slickness of the giant’s mouth engulfed the head of his monster cock. He grabbed the back of the wrestler’s head and pushed his cock deeper into his mouth. Connor’s strong jaws protested painfully as his mouth was forced wide open to adjust to the thick snake invading it. He gagged as the thick head hit the back of his throat. Less than half of the muscle god’s cock was inside his mouth. He couldn’t even suck the thick, black snake as it completely filled his mouth and pried open his jaws. His legs were suddenly lifted up as two strong paws grabbed onto his quads. He grunted in pain as a hot, broad rod invaded his ass. “Not letting you have all the fun”, Alex said to Aaron as he pushed his 30 incher into Connor’s muscular ass. Aaron felt Connor grunt against his monster cock and shoved it in even deeper; now that Connor was held upright by Alex he could push his dick through his throat and into his esophagus. Connor grabbed hold of the muscle god’s juicy ass for support, his own 20 incher throbbing wildly in the air as his nose was shoved against the black man’s pubes and he felt Alex pubes rubbing against his own ass, impaling him on their monster cocks. Alex and Aaron stared at each other, lusting over and admiring the incredible size they had grown into. They felt pleasure flood their bodies and began fucking the 600 pound muscle beast with full force. Pain mixed with pleasure as the two gods ravaged his body. Connor’s 20 incher exploded onto the wrestle mats as orgasm rolled over him like a tsunami of electrical jolts shooting through his body. His huge muscles contracted and he would have bucked violently but Aaron’s firm body and Alex’ steely grip easily held him in place. The muscle beast’s orgasm sent the two muscle gods over the edge. Alex’ balls contracted and his 30 incher shot load after load of superior cum up the muscular ass it was devastating and right into the wrestler’s intestines. Aaron’s thick 35 inch snake spew its salty load past the muscle beast’s throat, injecting it straight into his stomach. Connor’s own orgasm cooled down after a few minutes but the gods kept filling him with their juices. His strong 12-pack began bloating and his stomach protested as the massive amount of cum inflated it further and further. Cum poured from his ass alongside Alex’ 30 incher as it was shoved in and out; cum flowed from the corners of his mouth dripping against the thick, black snake Aaron was pounding his mouth with. As he felt like he was going to explode, the gods withdrew from his ass and mouth and let him fall down onto the mats covered in his own cum. Connor stared up at the muscle gods towering over him, realizing he had been reduced to their 600 pound boy toy… Meanwhile, the hideous creatures of Tomas’ infernal army were flooding the town were Orchid university was located. Police officers tried in vain to resist the hordes of undead soldiers but were overrun by the continuous stream of hellish legions. Within three hours, Tomas was in full command of the city and sent his armies swarming out all over the state, slaying any resistance they met.
  4. Let me know what you think. Kinda dark but these kinda things turn me on. Part 1: Nice knowin’ ya, Josh Sometimes, life just doesn’t go as planned. Or, that’s how it felt to a severe degree to Stephen. Stephen had lost the love of his life to cancer a year before, and now had no remaining family with whom to stay in touch. He and his friends had drifted apart ever since his boyfriend’s death, and Stephen had fallen deeper and deeper into despair. Stephen had turned to food and sex to cope with his boyfriend’s death, gradually packing on the pounds until it was harder and harder to find a hot guy to fool around with. He was about 5’10” and now 200 pounds, and virtually none of it muscle. He felt like his life would never look up, and was ready to join his boyfriend in the afterlife. That is, until his roommate brought home someone that would change his life. His roommate Josh was the lust object of every gay guy within a 100 mile radius. He was 6’1” and thickly muscled everywhere. Josh had sandy blonde that he wore messy and had shining, bright blue eyes. His waist was an impossible 28 inches with a 45 inch chest and 20 inch biceps. He was probably only 5% body fat, too, Stephen guessed, and topped out at 240 pounds. Josh was a personal trainer despite having a masters in chemistry because he loved spending so much time in the gym, and the worst part was, he was the nicest guy you could possibly meet. He helped as much as he could with Stephen getting through his mourning, but Stephen generally just turned him away. Josh, as it were, also happened to be a bit of a sex pig. He had a dungeon room set up downstairs and a leather sling that he could lay in to get fucked hard as he considered himself the bottom of all bottoms. He was also a competitive bodybuilder and had won some local competitions, but that wasn’t his favorite thing to do. He loved giving himself to well hung tops. If only he knew how he’d be giving himself soon. Stephen heard the door slam shut that fateful night and two different voices moaning through kisses. He made a habit of always checking out Josh’s tricks since they were always so hot and it gave him good masturbation material for later. He grabbed an empty glass from his nightstand and walked out of his bedroom pretending to go get a glass of water. As he walked out into the kitchen, he saw Josh there with a guy perhaps 3 inches taller than him. They were already naked from the waist up with Josh’s bulging biceps and triceps straining as they groped the new guy’s chest. When Stephen’s eyes focused on the new guy, his heart skipped a beat. He had to be 300 pounds easy, with jet black hair and red eyes that must have been color contacts. His skin was about as tanned as Josh’s and they both looked like bronzed Greek gods. His 8 pack abs glistened in the moonlight from the window and his pecs danced as he frenched Josh’s mouth deeply. He was easily the most handsome man Stephen had ever met in his life. His biceps were nearly twice the size of Josh’s and as Stephen walked into the kitchen his gaze turned to him. “Hi,” he smirked as Josh went to town on his nipples and armpits, licking and biting along as he went. “Uh….hi. Don’t mind me, just getting some water.” Stephen fumbled with the knobs on the kitchen sink and then poured some water into his glass and turned to walk out. “Oh hi Stephen, I didn’t even see you there! Look who I met at the adult book store!” Josh chirped. “I’ll see you in the morning!” “Sure, have fun.” Stephen continued walking away, when a thought forced its way into his mind. If you want your life to have purpose, follow us downstairs and watch. He realized he was just standing in the doorway to the kitchen as the two hunks continued making out behind him. He shook his head and returned to his bedroom. In the kitchen, Josh continued grabbing new guy’s ass through his tight jeans. Josh was down to his soccer shorts that he had worn for easy access to the book store. As Josh massaged the guy’s ass, he moved his other hand to his shorts and pulled them down and kicked off his sneakers, revealing a leather jockstrap underneath. “Daddy like,” the new guy purred. His voice was incredibly masculine and deep and simply being around him had Josh intoxicated. Josh reached for his belt buckle and unsnapped it and pulled down his pants, and with quick motion took off the guys boots and pulled his boxer briefs off and threw them to the floor. Josh gasped when he was done this at what stood before him. Not only was the new guy insanely muscled on top, but he clearly did not forget leg day, ever. His thighs looked like they were cut from granite and his bubble ass rivaled Josh’s. And then Josh focused on his favorite thing: the 10 inches and still growing because it was still soft dick in front of him. Josh felt a hand on the back of his head, and he knew what he had to do. Josh opened his mouth as wide as possible and engulfed the huge, perfect dick in his mouth. Not his favorite place for a dick to get stuck, but it would do for now until it found his way up his ass. He felt the cock grow as it went down his throat and he continued sucking as if there was no tomorrow, because for Josh, there wasn’t. Josh had never been this horny and never had this much pleasure in his life. “Ahhh fuck, first cum of the night!” The new guy bellowed as he pumped load after load deep down into Josh’s gullet. Josh kept sucking every last drop out of this perfect dick and when his orgasm was over, which felt like it last over 10 minutes, Josh disengaged. “Ready to fuck my tight hole with that dick?” Josh asked while stroking his own 6” cock. “Hell yea,” the new guy said. And with that, they headed downstairs to Josh’s dungeon. Stephen heard them walking downstairs. Why did I feel like I should watch this? He heard some light laughing and the sound of Josh getting into his harness. It would be kind of hot to see two bodybuilders plowing each other, Stephen thought. And with that, as if he had lost all conscious thought, he stood up and made his way for the staircase and grabbed a spot on the stairs where he couldn’t be seen but offered a perfect view of the action. The new guy was eating Josh’s ass, rimming with abandon. Josh was going wild and bucking himself up and down on the guy’s face. “YEAH, BITCH! EAT THAT FUCKIN’ HOLE!” Josh was definitely a bossy bottom. The new guy smirked. “Are you ready to give yourself to me?” The new guy asked. “Oh yeah baby, take me. Take whatever you want from me. Own my ass!” Josh stammered. With that, the new guy stood up and shoved his 14 inch, thick as a baseball bat dick into Josh’s ass. At 3 inches in, he encountered some resistance. “Oh shit that’s big.” Josh muttered. “Oh, I guess you aren’t ready for me then…” the new guy trailed off. “Fuck no, I want it.” Josh wrapped his thick, muscular legs around the new guy’s waist, poured more lube on his cock, and forced it more into him. “Good fuck toy.” The new guy murmured as he shoved more of his impossibly huge dick into Josh. As 9 inches in, Josh spontaneously orgasmed all over his perfect, pumped chest and six pack abs without ever touching his cock. The new guy grabbed up the cum and used it as lube to force more of his cock into Josh. Once he was fully in at 14 inches, Josh orgasmed again without touching himself, shooting surprisingly more cum this time than the first and hitting himself in the face. Once he was fully in, the new guy began withdrawing his cock and reinserting it with fury. He fucked Josh like Josh had never been fucked before. Josh flexed and squirmed while this humungous, god-like cock was inside him and every few minutes Josh would climax again and shoot more and more cum each time. “Yeah, flex those muscles bitch!” The new guy roared as he plowed Josh’s ass. Josh hit a double biceps pose as he was lying in the sling and then hit a most muscular and started bouncing his pecs as hard and fast as he could which caused him to achieve another orgasm, this one landing on his pecs and flying this way and that as he continued bouncing them. After what seemed like hours, the new guy achieved a thunderous orgasm that lasted at least a half hour. Josh felt load after hot load pumping into him and the warmth spread throughout his body. He had never felt this good before in his life and he didn’t want the feeling to end. “I’m hungry.” The new guy muttered after his orgasm ended.” “How about you eat me out?” Josh winked and breathed heavily. “Sounds like a good idea.” Stephen wasn’t sure in the red lights of the dungeon, but it looked like there was a huge dickhead inside Josh’s right bicep just under the skin. Josh felt more waves of pleasure run through him and could still feel the huge dick inside him, writhing about. He loved that he could feel every movement of it inside him. His right hand and bicep began to feel extra pleasurable, almost as if his arm was having an orgasm. It felt amazing. Stephen was frozen, unable to move. He would have gasped, but he couldn’t get any air into his lungs. Where the head of that impossibly huge cock had been on Josh’s bicep had been, was now nearly nothing. Josh’s perfect bicep had disappeared nearly instantly. Stephen watched as the flesh underneath Josh’s right hand melted leaving only skin. Where Josh’s right arm had been, there was now only skin. The process continued with the dick squirming over to Josh’s left arm and draining all the hard-earned muscle and bone there. Josh’s arms hung from his body, or what was left of his arms, nearly touching the floor. With that, the new guy’s dick made it’s way for Josh’s right leg, and once finished there, moved to his left leg. Stephen watched in horror as Josh’s calves seemed to deflate followed by his quads and hamstrings, leaving just soft, mushy skin behind. Josh just lay in the sling, babbling like a fool and cumming rivers during this whole ordeal. Josh’s bubble butt was next to go, and Stephen watched as those two perfect globes shrank and was stunned as the new guy’s ass became even more voluptuous. It was at this time that Josh seemed to come around. “HOLY FUCK! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!??! Oh my God, what is happening to me?!?!” “I’m eating you inside out, just like you asked. You asked me to take you. Don’t you want to feel as good as you felt earlier forever?” He came once more into Josh’s hole. “Oh god yes, take my whole fucking body. Take it all you fucking stud!” Josh howled. Josh’s perfect midsection deflated and Stephen could see the guy’s cock sticking out from where Josh’s perfect asschecks used to be, working almost like a septic pump in reverse, sucking all of Josh’s essence up into him. Josh bounced his pecs and taunted the guy. “Take them! Take them!” Josh’s chest deflated and the new guy bounced his newly enhanced pecs as Josh came again. All that remained of Josh was his head and the skin from the rest of his body. The skin seemed to slowly turn on itself and flooded into the new guy, which seemed to make his cock grow as well, and soon, all that was left was Josh’s handsome face and head attached to the guy’s dickhead. “Beg me to take you.” “Please sir, take me. I am yours forever.” Josh smiled happily as cum poured out of his mouth and with that last feeling of pleasure, his brain and everything he had ever been flooded into the new guy. Inside the new guy, he felt Josh’s soul burning and then join the eternal flame of those before him that joined to fuel the new guy and make him who he is. Josh was no more, but the new guy glanced in the mirror at the gift’s Josh had given him. His muscles bulged and grew a few inches. He flexed in front of the mirror and came all over his own image, shooting buckets of cum all over the mirror. The mirror began to melt and smolder underneath his cum. He then turned his attention to Stephen. “Stephen, how would you like to have this gift, and give men the ultimate pleasure while becoming a sex god yourself?
  5. godofjurai

    Winner Takes All

    This is the first BRAND NEW STORY I have written in a while, but this is an idea I have had for YEARS just never really decided to write it until recently when I had a couple yahoo buddies insist that this kind of needed to be told. It is not really that long. I'm dipping my feet in the shallow end before I dive head first into the deep side, but the fun I had writing this, it probably won't be that long until then. Please leave comments, as I LIVE for them! Likes are cool, but the comments are what makes me feel a bit better on how well the story is received. Winner Takes All The two of us knew what we were about to do. Both of us had been rivals now for the past 3 years that we started this university and were placed into the same damn dorm room. But today was the day that it was all going to change. Me and my roommate were both on the college wrestling team, both juniors, and about to head into our senior year together. I was 6’4” 290lbs with a low 5% body fat and a nice and plump 9 inch cock when fully erect. He was 5’8” and 275lbs of shredded beef. We were tired of always competing for the spot of Captain, and since the former Captain just graduated it was up to one of us to take the reigning spot of the team. That’s when I found this book that dealt with the occult that said there was a way that could alter our fates permanently. Basically a transfer of power. The one rule was we both needed to know what we were getting into, so I brought it up to him one night and we both agreed that one of us was definitely going to be captain and the only way for our rivalry to stop was to end this charade for good by draining the other one completely. So here we are, I set up this table in the center of the room at an undisclosed part of campus that no one would be entering into. I drew the pentagram across the entire table and had candles lit up around the room like the book stated must be done. He entered the room right on time, after everything was set up. We both pulled out a chair from the table, sat down and looked each other straight in the eyes. We knew once we started there was no going back from this ever. One of us would have all of our dreams fulfilled, and the other, well we really don’t know what will happen to the other person yet. This ritual asked that in order for this occult spell to work, we must challenge one another on top of the pentagram. Before we arrived at this moment, the only real way to challenge each other wasn’t with a game of Monopoly or Poker, but a true show of strength – We were about to both be engaged in the ultimate match of Arm-Wrestling. As the book stated, the winner would get everything. Both of us placed our right elbows on the table and onto the red chalk circle. Our biceps tensed, eyes still locked as we both clasped our hands tightly. I could feel his strength and he could feel mine. We both had the incantation memorized and we knew it was time. We both recited it as all of the lit candles flames sprang off of the candles and merged into a big ball of light above us. It begins now… Both of our arms tense as we push against each other. The veins in our forearms and biceps bursting from our skin as they engorge with blood, fueling us with the power to try and take the other man down. I can see the beads of sweat slowly begin to form on his brow and slide down his face, as he sees just how serious I am. I am going to win this. I begin to push as his arm slowly begins to go down. He is struggling, still managing to hold his own, but he won’t be able to last. I am the bigger man here. Taller, more muscle, more strength. I smirk as his arm slowly starts to descend lower and lower as it closes in on the table’s surface. He does not give in however, I can see the determination in his eyes, as he uses all his might to slowly push back. I give in a little to this game just to give him a tiny bit of hope that he has a chance. He gives me a cocky grin. I show nothing, as our hands slowly start to rise back up to almost the starting position. I show him a faux sign of concern, as my arm starts to bend in his favor, until it just stays locked in ta 30 degree angle off of the table. I show my true face now as I begin to push back, this time fear overtakes him as he begins to panic. My arm pushing him back fast. There is nothing he can do as our arm lock is now at the ready position once again and slowly his arm is descending in my favor. He tries to fight back, but he now knows it’s going to be me. I am the team captain! Nothing is going to stop me from- I feel pain erupt from by balls. I was sitting with my ass on the edge of the seat anticipating the win when his steel toe boot came in direct contact with my crotch. I falter in pain and I watch as he overpowers me. Looking at him all I see is this sinister grin as our arms reach center point before I feel my hand slam down onto the table surface. I’m shocked…scared…there is absolutely nothing I can do now. I try to pull away to end this but my hand is glued to his. I feel this electric current flowing through our touch and radiating into my body. I feel sick, weak. My body feels like it’s about to throw up. When I see it start to happen. I watch as all my muscles flex to their most pumped state. Starting with my meaty forearm, the muscle begins to slide down into my hand through my fingers and melds with him, adding to his already solid build. I gulp realizing what it now means about one of us will gain everything. Staring at the massive ball and veins wrapping around my bicep, I watch as the huge lump begins its slow journey through my tiny forearm, through my hands and fingers and into his arm sliding up where it eventually stays at its new comfortable spot on his already huge biceps. Fuck he’s going to get huge. I try pulling away again, the chair I am sitting on falling over as I crash onto the floor, him following and landing on top of me. I am not sure if it’s the realization and fear from me or if it is him now knowing what is happening to himself and what he will eventually become, but the pull from him was slowly beginning to increase. I watched as my traps shrank down to average shoulders and my pecs bunched up and shrank to a normal chest as all the muscle from my upper body began traveling through my arm and reassembling itself on to him. His chest swelling larger than any heavyweight bodybuilder I’ve ever seen and damn those traps, do huge and kept rising up and up like dough being baked in an oven as they kept expanding and filling with pure rock hard muscle. As this was happening, I didn’t take notice to my other arm and abs, which had already lost all of its size his solid 6 pack was expanding to a very hard and defined 8 pack. It was so damn cut you could probably grate cheese on his washboard. Next came the lower section of my body. My thighs, and calves all but pushed their way up my upper body. I looked ridiculous as all the mass went through my chest cavity giving me a look that I may have pecs again, just to see them just as quickly vanish and drop into him like water filling a jug of water. His Lower body was amazing! Calves so huge like two footballs stuffed into each leg side by side with diamond hardness. Thighs that could easily crush marble with. You could tell that neither one of us skipped leg day, just from how massive he was becoming. As all the muscle had finally left my body, his clothes stretched to their utmost limit. I tried to pull away but we were still locked. That’s when I felt it and I began to panic. “No, No, No!” my 9 inch cock began to slowly get sucked in shrinking smaller and smaller, as I felt it being pulled out of me, but I could not see this actually leave my body, that is until I saw the growing bulge in his shorts, elongating and beginning to get hard. He began to laugh, his voice so deep it caused the walls and floor to tremble around us. The transfer was over. I got up realizing how small everything looked around me. How is that possible? It was then that I noticed he also took my height. This titan of a man began to stand and he went up, and up, and up till I was barely at his navel. His clothes so tight they began to tear and in one mighty flex they all shredded to rags and fluttered to the floor around his body. His mighty alpha body looming above me, I was totally overshadowed by his dominant size, power, and gigantic manhood. It was too much for me as I knew what was going to happen next with that erect column of flesh that I just passed out…
  6. theseventhwave

    The Symbiote War - Chapter 14

    Hello everyone! My apologies for the loooonnnngggg delay. Life has been busy - and this sort of writing is challenging. Much thanks to everyone for being so very kind and supportive. And very special thanks to Xyggurat for pushing (gently) and also for being the inspiration for this story in the first place - you really should read Xyggurat's "The Roommate" series. If you haven't ready Chapters 1 through 13 - here are links: Chapter 1-7: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1689-the-symbiote-war/ Chapter 8: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/4428-the-symbiote-war-chapter-8/ Chapters 9-10: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5517-the-symbiote-war-chps-9-10-and-eventually-the-rest/ Chapter 11 is on page 3 of the previous thread. Chapter 12 is on page 4 of the previous thread. Chapter 13 is on page 5 of the previous thread. And finally... Here is chapter 14. Chapter 14: Sunday – Caught! It’s Sunday morning and I’m leaving Mark’s apartment with all the feelz; the warm fuzzies from having spent the night cuddling with this hot boy, exuberance at this budding relationship, amazement from having met such a wonderful man, but then also trepidation of what’s waiting for me – not just with Shawn, but with my future. Will there ever be an end to this growth ability? Would I want this to end? Because it’s Sunday morning, I know Shawn will be in the gym. So I head back to our dorm room to shower and make plans for the day. As I open the door, the first thing that hits me is the air. It’s hot and musky-sweet smelling (more musky than sweet). That catches me off-guard and I hesitate with the door half opened. But then a meaty arm reaches through the opening, grabs my wrist, and before I can even gasp, pulls me in. “Hey Little Buddy! Where’ve you been?” Shawn’s body is radiating heat, his hand on my wrist is warm…and potentially crushing the bones in my wrist. I’m staring at his massive chest. He’s shirtless, his pecs look pumped and swollen – red and sweaty – and the striations are criss-crossed with veins. So fucking hot! I would totally be enjoying this if only the bones in my wrist would stop complaining. “Shawn, you’re breaking my wrist.” “Sorry buddy.” As he finishes pulling me into the room he lets go of my wrist as he closes the door. “I’m still getting used to being this strong.” He tosses out that line casually, as if it isn’t the weirdest, sexiest, freakiest, hottest fucking thing ever. “Shouldn’t you be in the gym on a Sunday morning?” “I spent the whole day there yesterday, when I wasn’t looking for you. Where have you been hiding?” I certainly don’t want to share my secret hiding spot, so I try to re-direct the conversation. “Why would you be looking for me? And again, shouldn’t you be in the gym?” Ok, admittedly that was not my best re-direction work. In my defense, I was caught off-guard by Shawn being in the room, and I’m having trouble concentrating with these slabs of delicious pec meat heaving in my face. “Yeah I’ve been waiting here for you to come back. I’ve been passing the time doing body-weight exercises, but they’re not really a challenge anymore. I’m waiting for you so that I can get back to the gym. I spent the whole day there yesterday – and after getting a boost from you Friday night and yesterday morning, it was a fucking amazing gym day. I blew through all my personal bests on every exercise. I can’t describe how much of a turn-on it is to be this strong and be able to throw around so much weight!” He doesn’t really have to try. Just listening to him talk about being so strong has me hard as a rock. I’m beginning to perceive a problem… “Shawn…” I try to start some sort of argument to try and extract myself from this situation. “I want another day like that. I want another day full of blowing through all my PB’s. And you’re going to help me with that.” My balls churn at the thought. “Shawn…” I swear I’m trying to come up with some sort of argument, but my brain is not helping me here – maybe because all my blood is somewhere else… In a bit of a surprise move, Shawn picks me up. He’s hugging me tight and carrying me over to the bed. Part of me is screaming. But my hands are clamped on his striated deltoids and I’m already grinding my boner into his chest. So obviously, part of me is revelling in this sexy beast. Shawn throws me down on my bed and immediately he’s on top of me – taking off my clothes. Not only am I not trying to resist, I’m actually helping to get my clothes off. Shawn kicks off his shorts, freeing his cock to swing like a pendulum – a big, thick pendulum that I want to put in my mouth. He’s holding himself over me with one arm and caressing my boner with a big meaty hand. I am already leaking. My hands are everywhere; trying to dent his biceps, exploring the crevasse between his pecs, reaching down to grab hold of his muscle-y bubble-butt, and stroking his hot cock. He lowers himself down onto me, his hot pecs pressing firmly into mine. And I can feel our cocks grinding together between our abs – and I can tell that his is bigger, harder, and hotter than mine. It’s all too much, my balls churn and I’m over the edge. I can feel the cum rocketing from my cock – slicking up the space between our bodies – our abs and cocks now gliding smoothly from the lubrication. I’m locked in orgasm, but Shawn is still thrusting on top of me. I can feel his growth – his pecs are pushing into mine, his body widens and lengthens, his hard cock takes up more space between us, pushing harder into my abs and crawling farther up my chest. And as this is happening, I can feel the lubrication disappearing as my cum is soaked up into his body – until we’re left dry humping again. “Oh fuck yeah!” Shawn breathes. “Corrigan, you are amazing.” He pushes himself up a bit and so I get a better look at his body. His arms look like pillars of marble. The striations of muscle in his shoulders ripple as they fight for space under his skin. His pecs are larger than they were before, and from this angle, I get a glorious view of his bulging abs and obliques – at least what’s not being obscured by his cock. His cock is sticking up between us and it’s beyond belief – thick and meaty and wrapped in veins. I’m drooling. Shawn can see the lust in my eyes, and responds with a cute smile and a gleam in his eye. “One more dose before the gym.” “But I just came!” “I’ve got that covered.” “You’ve what?!” “Drink this.” And before I can even register a stunned expression, Shawn has plastic juice bottle up to my lips. I’m instantly reaching up to get this out of my face, but Shawn easily holds my hands at bay. “Drink this nicely, this doesn’t have to get unpleasant.” There’s no contest – I can’t even fight my way past one of his arms. I drink. “What was that?” “It turns out that one of the advantages of being a muscle stud is that people will do anything for a feel. I caught a pharmacist lusting after me in the gym yesterday. He was more than happy to help me out, and I convinced him to get me a little something. I don’t think this drug is actually on the legal market, but it’s supposed to be quite effective – a little something to help me get a second dose without having to wait for your refractory period to end.” I can feel myself getting flushed. Maybe it’s just embarrassment. Maybe it’s the drug. Maybe it’s just me being turned on by this muscle stud kneeling over me with his boner on my abs? And in less than a minute, I have my answer. I can feel the “flush” intensifying and centering on my cock – my boner feels as if it’s a beating heart. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my whole life. “What the hell did you give me?” “No idea. But clearly it’s working.” Shawn gives my boner a squeeze. A tiny drop of pre-cum forms on the tip. “You’re such a sexy little fucker.” “Ummm…. Thanks?” Shawn leans in and pops my boner in his mouth. His mouth is warm – my cock is on fire. He’s sucking hard – I can see the muscles in his neck flexing. I run my hands through his hair, over his muscular traps, and clamp on to the striations in his massive deltoids. “Unnnggg…” His vacuuming on my boner is so intense it’s both ecstasy and agony. I can feel his shoulders widening, the already hard muscles pushing against my hands. Shawn reaches up and cups my balls in his hand – gently kneading. It’s all too much – my climax is coming from somewhere deep inside me and I can feel it slowly building in intensity. It starts at the base of my penis, my balls clench up, my cock expands in anticipation. Shawn can feel that I’m about to cum, he clenches a little tighter on my balls and jams my cock deeper down his throat. And with that, it’s an explosion. I’ve never had such a climax, my cock felt like an out-of-control firehose. Shawn eagerly did his best to take it all. At the end I was completely spent, but even though my balls were drained, my cock was still throbbing as if it couldn’t help but continue to try and give up more. Shawn slowly pulls back, my still hard erection is now visible, it looks swollen. But I have no time for that, it’s Shawn that’s stealing the show. Standing up straight, I can see growth everywhere. His physical…presence is filling the room. His head is inching toward the ceiling, resting on top of a spectacular mountain of traps. His deltoid muscles stand out impressively, looking as if they are fighting for space with his chest. All of this is framed by the massive wide V of his back and the cobblestones of his obliques. Shawn’s quads are so wide that he’s standing in that bodybuilder stance where he has to have his legs slightly spread. And that cock! Shawn clearly has a semi, but it’s thick as my wrist, and even draped over his impressive balls it is slowly inching down closer to his knees. “It’s been a while. Let’s do this.” He throws a tape measure at me. I am unable to process all of this; it’s too much to take in. I am exhausted, and my mind is spinning so fast in so many directions that it’s standing still. I am in awe of Shawn’s body; this “god of muscle” is standing before me, and all I want to do is spend eternity worshiping. My formerly smaller roommate is now towering over me, and all I can see is hard, rippling muscle in every direction – and I am both turned on and frightened. Not necessarily frightened of Shawn, but frightened by how much I want to give him more growth. What have I become? Fortunately, Shawn is oblivious to my whirlwind of thoughts. “Let’s start with height. The world feels different from up here.” I pull on my underwear before we get going – but no time for anything more – Shawn is too eager. As I’m trying to unravel the tape measure, I realize that there’s no way I’m going to be able to measure something that tall – I can reach up there, but I can’t actually see the mark on the tape measure. I grab my rickety collapsible metal study chair from my desk – it wobbles a bit as I climb up to reach Shawn’s head. “It looks as if you’ve hit six feet and two inches according to the tape measure.” “Almost a whole foot taller! No wonder everything looks so different. Let’s move to chest.” I can’t reach around his chest, so I wrap the tape measure around his waist. “32 inches.” Shawn flexes his abs – it looks as if a brick wall just exploded under his skin – the ridges of the abdominals and obliques stand out sharply. I re-measure his waist. “Still 32 inches.” But there’s not an ounce of fat anywhere – it’s all solid muscle. And then with some effort, I shimmy/slide the tape up to his chest. Shawn stands at attention and flexes his chest and back – I almost drop the tape. “58 inches! That’s thick.” And to paraphrase a meme: I’m not drooling! You’re drooling! I wrap the tape measure around his thigh – it’s thick and I can feel the striations in the muscle moving around under his skin. “30-inch thighs!” Shawn’s not fully hard, but he definitely has more than just a semi. The tape measure shows 14 inches, with 10 inches of girth. “And now my biceps.” Shawn raises his right arm – keeping it straight out from his body. I wrap the tape measure around the bicep – he’s not flexing, but the arm is already impressively thick. I can see veins running along the bicep and connecting to a roadmap in his forearms. Shawn flexes his bicep. I just want to lick it. “Are you gonna measure that?” Shawn’s amused. “Oh yeah, sure.” I grasp one end of the tape measure and pull the other end: “22 fucking inches.” “Excellent. This is fucking amazing! I need to go throw some serious weight around.” “Shawn, I don’t think the gym’s going to have enough weights to challenge you.” “We’ll see about that.” He seems pleased and amused and has a bit of a far-off look in his eye. “But after the gym, I’m going to want another round with you. But you seem to keep disappearing on me.” “Shawn…” He’s looking around the room – and fixates on my rickety metal study chair. “This will do.” Shawn picks up the chair and proceeds to rip it apart with his bare hands. “Shawn! That’s my chair!” “I want you here when I get back. And so… Get on the bed.” I hesitate, wondering if I can make a run for it. But I’m just in my underwear, I haven’t had time to get dressed. “I’m being nice here, giving you the opportunity to have a comfortable place. Or, we can do this in a less comfortable spot.” Realizing that I’m not getting out of the room, I climb onto my bed. Shawn easily manipulates the metal frame into a makeshift set of rings. “Reach up, I’m tying you to the bedframe.” He wraps one of the rings around the bedframe and then around my wrist – initially getting it uncomfortably tight, but he sees the look of pain run across my face and adjusts the metal ring so that it’s tight but not pinching. He does the same with the other ring. I am now lying on my back with one arm tied to each bedpost. In any other circumstance, this would be insanely hot. People would pay money for this! But for some reason, I can’t seem to appreciate that right now. “Shawn. You can’t tie me up against my will. This isn’t right, and you know it.” “Listen little buddy. I need you to be here. And if you would just stop running away, I wouldn’t have to do this. Besides, I am going to go and blow through my lifts and pump these muscles to their max – and then me and my sweaty, pumped muscles are going to come right back here and rescue you.” Ok. Ok! I admit it. I’m turned on. Even my spent dick stirred at the thought of Shawn coming back sweaty and pumped. Shawn struggles to put on his workout clothes. Nothing fits and everything looks ridiculous on his gigantic frame. He settles on a muscle shirt that hides nothing and a pair of basketball shorts that now look like spandex. And nothing is capable of hiding his massive package. “I’ll be back. You wait here little buddy.” Shawn gives me a wink and a smile that somehow, in spite of the fact that he’s just tied me up, still manages to give me butterflies. I can hear him lock the door from the other side. I’m alone. “Fuck.”
  7. 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?
  8. godofjurai

    Symbiotic Bonding Part 07

    Merry Fucking Christmas! Enjoy guys! Previous Parts: -Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04 - Part 05 - Part 06 - Part 07 While You Were Sleeping Matt sat down on his bed, lying back and rolling onto his side so he could have a great view of Andrew from across the room as he slept. He watched Andrew’s newly-built chest rise and fall as he breathed in deeply, pulling in oxygen into his now much larger chest, before letting it all out. Matt heard Andrew muttering under his breath. Words that were hard to make out, but they began to make him quiver with desire for reasons he did not understand. He continued to watch his smaller brother slumber, Andrew’s new body partially illuminated under the dim moonlight coming in through the window. It was just enough for Matt to see the curves of his twins new muscles. Andrew murmur’s in his sleep again, having an amazing dream from what Matt was noticing as he watched a new curve being arising. The part of the sheet over Andrew’s larger dick began to rise. Matt paused, not sure what to do next, but Andrew shifts in his sleep, kicking off part of the sheet, letting his new, big phallus spring free. Matt’s throat catches as he watches its silhouette wave back and forth, several inches off of his slumbering bro. His own dick stiffening, urging him towards the swinging metronome of Andrew’s penis. Andrew’s snores were loud, and very deep. He continued to toss and turn on his bed, getting into a more comfortable position, his arm going behind his head, exposing his deep murky pit. The exposure sending a bit of odor wafting out over his area of the room as it began to get stronger the longer it was out in the fresh air, moving towards Matt’s side of the room. His other hand went down to his larger, kiwi sized balls, as be scratched and pulled at them slightly. “Wa….e….” he mumbled. ‘….nt…m…” the words were low but commanding even in his sleep daze. Each time they began to get clearer and clearer. “Want me….” Matt finally hears the two words, loud and clear. Even though it was still almost a mutter under Andrew’s breath, Matt was able to understand those two words perfectly. He pushed aside his sheets, tossing his legs over the edge, and treading the several meters to his brother’s bed. Matt looks down at Andrew, noting how the dim moonlight highlights the strong, masculine body of his growing twin. His own cock throbs, and as he watches Andrew sleep he notices his brother’s does as well. As Andrew rolls over to his side, Matt decides to join him in bed, His legs at Andrew’s head, and vice-versa as they get into a 69 position. Matt looks straight ahead towards Andrew’s cock, gently scooting towards it, eager to have it push between his lips, into his mouth, and down his throat, but he needs to make sure not to wake his twin. The words mutter again “Want Me,” much clearer now from him being this close. Matt can’t take it any longer, scooting forward quickly until he feels his smaller twins dick brush against his lips. Matt opens wide, engulfing the head, sucking it into his mouth, while his own cockhead presses against Andrew’s own, opened, sleeping lips. Pre begins to leak out from Matt’s cock onto Andrew’s lips. In Andrew’s sleep state, he licks his slightly slick lips, feeling his bro’s cock leave a good amount of pre on them. His moth opens, his tongue running along the upper part of Matt’s cock as his lips close around the head and Andrew begins to nurse on the tip like a child suckling a teat. Matt moan’s from the pleasure, scooting even closer to try and get more and more of his shaft into Andrew’s mouth, as he feels it hit the back wall, slowly forcing the head into Andrew’s throat. This causes Andrew to moan, feeling more aroused in his sleep state, his hand going toward the back of his brother’s head, rubbing his hair as he begins to stir a bit. Matt purr’s with joy as he is getting attention from his Twin. He doesn’t care if he’s asleep. He know’s Andrew does not want this to continue to happen, but this reassurance is all Matt needs to keep going. He relaxes his throat, opening it up more so he can swallow more of Andrew’s cock, pushing his lips further down the shaft. He wants his bro’s precious seed, so he makes his tongue dance against the underside of Andrew’s tool, feeling the bumps and ridges of the veins, teasing it as best as he can. Andrew’s throat muscles continue to open and close over the head of Matt’s cock. Matt begins to let out soft, muffled moans of pleasure as his balls start to ache, eager to unleash a bountiful seed. But the thing inside of Matt, the living Symbiote, won’t allow it yet. It prevents him from release, and starts to produce more and more cum, making Matt’s balls begin to fill with more and more cream. Matt is hopeless, able only to do his best to work over Andrew’s cock while Andrew’s sleeping daze returns the favor. Andrew’s sleepiness begins to wear off as his eyes begin to slowly open, his brain waking up. The first thing he sees are two large, swelling testicles pressed against his face, before he notices the cock lodged down his throat… “Mmmmmm mmmmmm” Andrew tries to protest, knowing this is going to not go so well for Matt as his own cock was buried deep into his brother’s throat as well. His cock was uncontrollably hard, there was no way he was going to escape this. Andrew tris pulling away, but Matt’s hands grab onto his thighs and hold him in place, as Matt flips Andrew onto his back. Matt’s still larger then him and has plenty of skills from all the sports he played through the years that Andrew never did. “Mmmmmm….” Andrew protests again, but Matt just doubles his efforts, sucking even harder and faster. Matt was desperate for his brother’s cum, wanting so very much to please Andrew. Wanting just as much to make his twin bigger, stronger, sexier. As Andrew struggled beneath him, Matt drives his dick deep into Andrew’s mouth, until his balls are resting against Andrew’s nose; his wispy pubes tickling Andrew’s chin. Matt let’s out a soft grunt as his cock explodes, sending a large load of cum rocketing down Andrew’s throat. As it hits, Andrew kicks, his body spasming as another inch is added to his height, bringing him to six feet tall, just like Matt. His body swells, more and more muscle added to his frame as he reaches a whopping 215lbs, just five pounds shy of Matt’s own still impressive 220lbs. And his cock, lurching forward in Matt’s mouth as it gains another ½ inch, reaching finally a solid 8, thickening slightly in his mouth, pushing further down his throat. Matt lets out a low moan as he continues so suck, turned on incredibly by this new growth spurt. Andrew gets even hornier with this new flood of testosterone going through his body, causing his own cock to grow even harder. As Matt began to lift himself away after he did what he felt needed to be done, to grow Andrew to Twin like proportions, Andrew’s hands latch onto Matt’s head and thrusts his cock upward to sink his cock all the way up into Matt’s throat. Matt’s cock no longer in Andrew’s mouth. “This is what you wanted?” Matt tries to push Andrew’s body back onto the bed. “I’m sorry bro… Mph… but it’s… my turn…” He thrusts his cock all the way up and Matt continues to struggle. “My turn… to… Uhnn…” His eyes closing as a mighty blast of hot seed fires out from Andrew’s cock and forces its way into Matt’s stomach. “to… protect you.” All Matt can do is swallow or he would probably drown from how much cum was erupting out of his twin’s cock. He begins to feel like he’s weakening, getting smaller, but even though these physical attributes are changing he can only think of how much he truly needs to be wanted now by Andrew. Matt grips onto Andrew’s muscular thighs, feeling them tense up under him as he continues to shoot. All Matt does is welcome every last drop. Andrew also feel’s his brother getting smaller around him, as he drops to 5’11”. Matt’s cock reeling back into his body as it sucks into a slightly above average 7 inches, nowhere close to his whopping original 10. His weight reaching 205lbs. Andrew finally rolls Matt’s body off of him and onto the bed. Panting, his body covering with as much sweat, even covered with fur, his body looked like an oiled up bodybuilder. “What did you do?” “You wanted me to want you. And I did. I wanted you. I still do. I want you so bad, Andrew!” Matt reaches up, his fingers gently brushing against one of Andrew’s furry pecs, feeling how it’s slightly larger than before, slightly thicker. “And I love what my cum does to you. How it makes you bigger. Stronger. Fuck, you’re HOT, Andrew. You know that, right?” Matt moves his thumb and index finger to the nipple on the pec he was rubbing and begins to roll it between his fingers. Is it any surprise that I want you?” Andrew moans in pleasure from Matt’s touch. He pulls his twin closer towards him, lifting him up in his arms, as he stands up and walks towards the full length mirror, Matt’s posing mirror, the one that he would always admire himself in. Andrew places him down, right in front of him. Matt having to look slightly up now, but not by much, as Andrew turns him towards his reflection. Matt can now see who is clearly the larger one in absolutely every aspect now. “Do you see this Matthew?” Matt hated that name. He hasn’t been called that since he was 12. It was the name his parent’s would also use to scold him as a child. “Look what you’ve done. I told you to stop… There is no going back from now on…” Matt looks down at his feet for a moment, then back up at Andrew. He blushes, seeming a bit shy. Certainly not like the confident jock who used to strut around campus like he owned it. “Are you really mad at me, Andrew? I – I thought you wanted this. You can’t be feeling bad, can you?” Matt reaches over and traces his fingers along his brother’s abs, tracing each separation between each block of muscle. “Don’t you feel bigger, stronger, more capable? Ready to take on the world?” Matt moved around Andrew’s larger frame, behind his bro. His smaller body now completely hidden behind Andrew’s reflected image in the mirror. “Don’t you want to be as much of a man as you can be?” Matt asked, his voice distant, as he leaned against Andrew’s strong, broad, muscular back. Andrew feels Matt’s arms wrap around his waist from behind as he relaxes a bit. “I think I’m gonna need a shower. I can’t sleep now…” Andrew turns around to face Matt, placing a hand gently on his brother’s chin. “Everything will be ok, I guess,” He smiles into his eyes. “Just gonna be some adjustments were gonna need to get used to.” Andrew bends down, bringing his lips to Matt’s, kissing him, before heading off to the shower, leaving them both to contemplate. Matt watches Andrew’s strong glutes rising and falling with each step as he leaves the room. His lats curving to meet his beefy shoulders, traps trying to reach up and swallow his neck. He flopped back onto his bed, a huge grin on his face. You’re big now, and hot. But you could be so much more… To Be Continued… Coming Soon Part 08: Make A Man Out of You
  9. Herald

    The locker room loser

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

    INFINITY BREAKERS - Part 01

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

    The muscle app (final part)

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

    The muscle app (2)

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

    The muscle app (3)

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

    The muscle app (1)

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

    The muscle frat (8)

    Eight The next morning Tristan was wolfing down his breakfast when Mark walked into the kitchen. "Ready for some training, T.?", the wrestler asked as he sat down in front of the huge teen and dug into a big bowl of cereal. "Can't wait to toss your frail body around", Tristan replied with a grin and shrugged his shoulders, making striations explode across his wide, perfectly round delts. Mark took in the display of male dominance and emptied his bowl. "I'll grab my gear and meet ya in the locker room", he said and got up. In the locker room, Brad was getting ready for his morning workout. He'd just put on his workout gear when he heard the door open. "Hi, Brad" Brad turned around and saw Mark, the heavyweight wrestle champ entering. "'sup", he replied. "In for some practice", Mark said as he went to his locker and put his bag in front of it while he unlocked it. "Who's the victim?", Brad asked as he tossed his towel over his shoulder and locked his locker. "Oh", Mark began but was cut off by the opening door. "Ya're already here", Tristan said as he entered and saw the heavyweight wrestler. "Bro?", he asked as he noticed his older brother in the center of the room. Brad stared in horror at his massive brother who seemed to fill the entire locker room with his presence. "You guys are brothers?", Mark let out incredulously. "Yeah. He's 3 years older than me. But you wouldn't say", Tristan said smugly and stepped up to his brother. Brad gulped as his younger brother towered over him. "I guess I have the good genes. Don't ya agree, bro?", Tristan said playfully and put his right paw atop his brother's bare shoulder. A hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes as no tingling sensation brook out. "Mind if I pass and get to the gym?", Brad said as deeply as possible. "Good idea, bro. You need to grow a bit to be a real man", Tristan replied and put some pressure on his brother's muscular shoulder. Brad felt his brother's fingers dig into his delts and his knees buckled a bit from the force. He summoned every ounce of strength not to sink to the ground. "Don't want to disturb you ladies but I'ld like to get some practice in", Mark said. "Catch ya later, bro", Tristan said to Brad as he let go of his shoulder and turned to the wrestler. Brad headed over into the gym for his morning workout, hurrying to get away from his brother. "You have a singlet, T.?", Mark asked while he grabbed his customized blue singlet from his locker. "Nope", Tristan stated, "why don't we wrestle in our boxers?". He took off his hoodie and pulled off his shirt. "Fine", Mark replied and put his singlet back inside his locker and stripped down to his boxers. He turned aside and gulped as he noticed how the beastly teen outsized him in every department. "Still want to go through with this?", Tristan asked mockingly while he compared their bodies: Mark's 220 pound frame was filled with thick muscles but also carried a certain amount of fat that gave him a bulky look; his own 300 pound body was a living anatomy chart with insanely ripped muscles that rippled with every breath he took. "Let's do this", Mark said and led the teen beast over into the wrestle hall. Tristan followed the heavyweight wrestle champ and stopped in the center of the mat as instructed. He looked at his 220 pound training partner who faced him from a few feet away. He nodded as Mark explained the basic rules. "Ready, T.?", Mark asked as he took a defensive position. "Bring it on, little guy", Tristan replied. He was surprised by the swift attack of his opponent and felt the guy's hand grabbing his neck before he could react. He braced his thick legs for support and his right paw grabbed the champ's neck while his left hand interlocked with the guy's left hand. Mark instantly felt the beastly teen's incredible force and flexed his heavily muscled quads to withstand the counterattack. His strong left arm was being pushed back by his opponent's 30 inch arm. He jumped backward to free himself and took a few deep breaths to control his breathing. "What have I gotten myself into?", he thought as he kept his gaze on his huge opponent. "Running away?", Tristan asked as the champ retreated. He moved in on the heavyweight wrestler. Mark anticipated the attack and dove under the paws that reached for him. He found himself inches from the teen beast and wrapped his 22 inch arms around the guy's torso in a bear hug. "Trapped?", he asked playfully and hardened his grip, veins exploding along his arms. "Ugh", Tristan let out in surprise as the strong arms hardened around his torso. "Guess again", he replied and lifted his thick arms up to easily break the grasp. Mark stumbled back in disbelief: until now, no one had ever broken free from his bear hug. He held up his hands in a defensive motion and thought about his next move. "My turn", Tristan growled and moved in on the heavyweight wrestler. Mark followed his huge opponent's moves, he knew he didn't stand a chance if the beastly teen could grab him. So he took a step back with every step the 300 pound Tristan made in his direction. As he turned in circles to maintain the distance, Mark felt his own breathing slow down and he also noted from the heaving of his opponent's protruding chest that Tristan wasn't used to training. "Tired, big guy?", he asked tauntingly. Tristan let out a low, vibrating grunt in response. "Quit dancing around and fight", he barked and moved in. Mark saw the teen beast slight lower his arms as he stepped toward him and made his move: he dodged the paws and moved swiftly behind his 300 pound opponent, his arms reaching underneath the perfectly round, cannonball-sized shoulders as his big hands reached for the back of the thickly muscled neck. "What the ...", Tristan said, surprised by the heavyweight wrestler's sudden move. Mark's hands joined together and he locked them hard, securing his full nelson atop the thick traps. "Gotcha", he said into the teen beast's ear. Tristan shrugged his shoulders, making his traps mound upward and budging against the hands locked behind his neck. He felt the grasp giving away against his meaty traps and repeated the process. Striations exploded across his wide shoulders as he shrugged them once more. Mark felt his grip being pushed apart and used every trick he'd learned over the past years, holding onto the beastly teen's neck with everything he got left. A wave of euphoria went through him as he managed to maintain his full nelson. His cock hardened a bit from the friction against the muscular lower back. "No fucking way", Tristan groaned as he tried getting free. He tried reaching for the heavyweight wrestler, but his 30 inch arms couldn't free him like before. No matter what he tried, his opponent refused to let go and was wearing him out. He felt the cock harden against his back, sending a responsive jolt through his own flaccid member as he slowly sank to his knees. "You give?", Mark asked in between fast breaths without releasing his hold. "I… yeah", Tristan replied. Instantly the arms let go of his neck and he laid down on his back on the mat, inhaling deeply to control his breathing. "Who's the champ?", Mark yelled and threw a double bicep pose. Excitement and adrenaline rushed through his body as he realized he'd just taken down an 80 pound heavier opponent. Tristan looked up at the heavyweight wrestler, noticing how his muscles glistened with sweat and the growing bulge inside the guy's boxers. He placed his hands aside his body and sat up, his thick triceps flexing in the process. "Congrats, man", he said, "I really thought I could take ya". "Yar strength is unreal, I felt it from the start. My experience handed me the win. If ya learn the moves, ya'll be unstoppable", Mark replied. His gaze travelled down to the growing bulge in the beastly teen's boxers. "Let's hit the showers", he said and extended his hand to help his 300 pound opponent get up. Tristan grabbed the hand and got up. He looked down into the 6 feet champ's eyes and before he could react, the guy kissed him on the lips. "What…", Tristan said as he broke the kiss. "I… ehr… sorry", Mark muttered as he looked up into the beastly teen's dark brown eyes, his heart pounding in chest as he realized the guy towered over him in height and width. "Tristan, I…", he began. "We both want this", Tristan said, grabbed the back of the heavyweight wrestler's head and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Mark's eyes widened in surprise as his 220 pound body was pulled against the 300 pound beast and the tongue invaded his mouth. He returned the kiss and let his big hands roam the mounds of muscle that flowed into each other across the insanely wide back. The teen's thick pecs pushed into his own heavy chest and one of the guy's paws cupped his muscular ass. Black dots began dancing before his eyes as the beast kept kissing him. Tristan finally broke the kiss and took in a deep breath, making his protruding pecs dig into the harden against the wrestler's muscular ones. He felt his own dick grow to full hardness between their heavily muscled bodies along the 220 pound guy's rock-hard cock. "Fuck me", Mark moaned in pleasure as his hands grabbed the beefy biceps and tested the hardness of the beasty teen's relaxed arms. "I…", Tristan muttered and began blushing. "You're a virgin, aren’t ya?", Mark asked as he noted the shy reaction of the huge guy. Tristan nodded. "I mean… I had blowjobs before but never really", he rattled on and clenched his fists to make his bicep harden under the heavyweight wrestler's touch. Mark's rock-hard cock jolted in his boxers as the steely biceps pried open his hands. "You're cute when you blush, T.", he said, "And no worries: I've never been fucked before. We'll take things slowly". He ripped away his own boxers and did the same with the teen beast's boxers. Both their rock-hard cocks smacking against their abs as they were freed from their fabric prison. He kissed the 300 pound Tristan on the lips again and slowly leaned back, letting the teen beast gently lead him down on the wrestle mat. Tristan carefully laid the heavyweight wrestler with his back on the mat. He placed his knees aside his legs, positioned his elbows next to the guy's heavily muscled torso and kissed him once more as he was leaning over him. Their rock-hard cocks brushing against each other, sending shivers of bliss through their bodies. "Common, fuck me", Mark whispered in the teen's ear while he gently bit the earlobe and rubbed the hot surface of the thick pecs that hung over him. "Mhm", Tristan mounded and positioned the fat head of his 14 inch cock against the meaty ass of the heavyweight wrestler. "Here we go", he said as he very slowly drove his cock in between the ass cheeks. Mark's muscular back arched up from the mat as the thick head pushed passed his ass cheeks and slowly brushed against his hole. His hole clenched in anticipation. Tristan gently pushed further and let the head of his 14 incher enter the 220 pound athlete. "Umpf", Mark grunted in pleasure as the searing hot pole pushed past his defenses and invaded him teasingly slowly. His back arched further off the mat and his arms wrapped around the heavily muscled torso leaning over him, trapping his own rock-hard 10 incher between his bulky six-pack and the teen's ripped eight-pack. Tristan placed his paws against the wrestler's back and kept driving his lengthy snake inside him. Pleasure flowed through his 300 pound body as the tight ass engulfed his cock like a fleshy glove. Lightning bolt-like flashes crackled in Mark's vision as the 14 incher was completely inside him and the pubes of the teen beast's brushed his muscular ass. He felt like a ragdoll in the grasp of the hulking man and loved it: his cock was throbbing against the deeply grooved eight-pack while his hands groped the hard mass on the guy's broad back. Tristan began pumping his cock back and forth inside the clenching ass; slowly at first but faster and deeper as he seemed to gain more confidence. "UGHN", he bellowed as his balls exploded and his cock blasted a first load into the heavyweight wrestler. A spark of energy shot from the bottom of Mark's spine up into his head, exploding into a firework of white light as the beastly teen filled him with his seed. His own 10 incher exploded between their muscular bodies, covering their pecs and abs in his sticky juices. Tristan's orgasm lasted seven long, big blasts before wearing off. He gently withdrew from the 220 pound athlete and laid down next to him, his chest heaving from the orgasm. "Best sex I've ever had", Mark said and ruffled the 80 pound heavier guy's hair. He smiled as the beastly teen blushed once again. "Let's shower", he said and got up.
  16. Chapter eight is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13595-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-eight/ Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter Nine Jack could still sense the faint voice of Cody’s thoughts and feelings somewhere back in his mind, while he strode through the streets, returning to the Archaeology Department. He had a vague feeling, that something wasn’t entirely aright, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Confidently, but absent-mindedly, he strode through the streets between the alabaster spired and jade domed buildings, and torches burned to lit the streets. A gigantic egg or two floated in the air, close to the full moon, and he could hear the sound of wooly mammoths trumpting somewhere in a distance. A giraffe from the Zoo was slowly burning, without being consumed. An elderly, bearded man, with the look of a homeless man, had taken off his shoes on the pavement, and kneeled in front of the giraffe. Ivy was crawling over the facade of a Tesco, and brownies wearing red, knitted wool-caps seemed to be busy with stocktaking inside. A faint glow inside a antiquities shop revealed that someone worked late: It seemed to be a man in an old-fashioned middle-eastern traditional costume, and he levitated about a deci metre above the floor, while he was polishing an oil-lamp. A ghostly light fell on the pavement from the stained glass of St. Congar's Anglican-Episcopal Cathedral, and he could hear an otherworldly music from the entrance, but he didn't stop to find out the source of this strange singing. In the corner of his eye, he could see a tree stride by, in the direction of the monument in memory of native inhabitants of the country. On the roof of the Indian Cultural Centre, a blue man was playing the flute in a haunting tone. The stone tiles and the asphalt coating of the pavement had broken up at many places, and the trees had grown surprisingly big already: gnarled and winding trees usually become only after many years. A mud-hut with straw-roof emerged out of the earth, and cracked the pavement, as it replaced a night-open convenience store. When he reached the Archaeology Department, the war-god wasn't there, but the old, white-haired, bespectacled man was. Jack towered over the older man, and his naked chest emitted heat in the cold and moist nocturnal air. The voice of the older man trembled in the presence of Jack: "Kortoth-Gnaah and most of the men went to the harbour." "The harbour? Do you know why?" The older man's facial expression changed: "So you are not entirely connected to his thoughts?" "To a certain degree. Now when you mention it, I feel some sort of silent homing signal from the direction of the harbour. But why?" "The Sea Goddess is held hostage, or so he says. Kortoth-Gnaah. I didn't know about her until he asked about her." "Why didn't he change you, too?" The expression of the older man became inscrutable. Perhaps disappointed. "I don't know." For a second or two, Jack entertained the idea to absorb the Professor, but some strange tingling in his head adviced against it, so he dropped the idea. "Who is holding her hostage?" "After using The Book of Eibon, with my help, strange enough, he told me, that she is held hostage by the World Serpent." Jack shuddered. He could feel Cody shudder inside him at the words 'the World Serpent'. A bad omen. A forgotten memory. A dark space lurking in the back of his head, something he ought to know, but didn't. For some reason, he didn't want to ask anything more. Without a word, he left the Archaeology Department and walked in the direction of the harbour. * * * "Absorb them!" Their god commanded it. Lucien could feel the scent of saltwater, seaweed and petrol. The dockworkers were taken by surprise, when the odd-looking crowd of men, in what seemed like an unusually successful and impressing fantasy-cosplay, surrounded them in the harbour. The dockworkers were quite impressive to be modern men: Well-trained and used to heavy lifting, dressed in sturdy nylon jackets and trousers in rough fabrics suitable for their type of work. A few mariners had sprung to their assistance, when a fight seemed to be breaking out, but it had instead turned into a night-mare for the dockworkers and the mariners. The men of the war-god had devoured the modern men by their touch. Lucien could see Chad embrace an impressive dockworker, and he had grabbed another one at his bull-neck, and felt the other man's strength seep into his own. A scream was on its way to arise in the other man's mouth and eyes, but when it was close to erupt, the other man didn't exist any longer, and Lucien's muscles looked even more impressive than before. He could sense an echo of the other man's scream inside his head, and he then felt a pleasant wave of appreciation, when the fragments of the other man relished in what he had become a part of. * * * Jack could see fellow housecarls arrive on the scene at the same time as himself. Their brothers who had followed the war-god to the docklands, had found suitable men to unite with in the harbour, but those who had haunted other parts of the city, had also found suitable prey. The were all much bigger now. * * * "Now! Unite! Unite with me!" The brutal physiques of Lucien and Chad watched each other. They saw their brothers in arms fuse with each other into ever taller composite titans. Lucien felt his cock throb inside his leather codpiece, when Chad watched him lovingly. Then they both approached each other, a hungry glint awakening in their eyes. They embraced each other: Warm, strong arms around wide backs and reliable shoulders. Titanic warriors hugging each others, the leather-clad, steel-hard crotches rubbing each other throbbingly. The could feel the now familiar fusion happen. They kissed each other, and then the mind of both fell out into nothingness and love and desire. A being emerged out of their embrace. It looked like Lucien, and it looked like Chad, and it had the minds of both, and of all the men they had absorbed. * * * There was something ecstatic and something of abandon to it. Jack fused with the other men. The roars of pleasure and power of the men he had fused with echoed in his mind, and he could feel Cody's part of him take especial pleasure in it: "Oh, wow. Bro! Yeah, let us absorb all that attitude and brawn and testo and... OH. YES. JACK. TOGETHER. ALL OF US.!" * * * A few minutes later only three men stood on the pier, watching the sea, and listening to the waves: Kortoth-Gnaah, the man who had been Jack and the man who had been Chad and Lucien. "It's time. Unite with me." Jack and Chad-Lucien took a few steps, touched the chest of their war-god, and, with them, all the men who had experienced the transformation granted by Korthoth-Gnaah fused with the source of their power. So did all the men they had supernaturally devoured during this strange and otherworldly night. A roar emerged. The war-god himself was unflinching in every situation, but the men, whose bodies now built the embodiment of Anghra-Lemur's warrior-god, and whose minds were now drowning in the mind of their war-god, roared in a masculine frenzy none of them had thought possible. The primal and unspeakable power, the instincts, the revelling and ravishment forced the combined minds of almost hundred men to roar, and the last remnants of the person, who once had been Brock MacGurgan, was consumed by the power of Korthoth-Gnaah. Now, the war-god roared, too, but, this time, it was a battle-cry: "I abjure thee, Crawler in the Dark. I abjure thee, Slitherer of stygian depths! I conjure thee, thou Who Gnawest on the Roots of the World Tree! Come, face thy foe! Come meet me again, after Aeons of truce! Come let thy hostage free, thou Foul Defiler! Come forth, Old god of darkness and the Abyss!" The litany of Chaos went on, and on. And something answered the call. Out of the cosmic depths, a Being groped and clawed, crawled and merged. The blabbering and fragmenting minds of mortal men could feel their own fear mix with the courage of the warrior-god, and, as far as they any longer retained any ability to think, they sensed how their enemy rose from the Depths. The strength and the power, the heat of anger and the nobility of courage, primordial instincts and the call of duty pulsated in the veins and the muscles and the mind of Korthoth-Gnaah, and he prepared to meet The Old Snake, The Worm that Gnaws, the dragon out of the cold spaces, the reptile of Nothingness, the embodiment of Chaos. It had been Vritra in the east and Leviathan in the west, but it was older than those names. It had been Tiamat, Iluyanka and Apophis, Veles and Jormungandr, but names are young, and the Old gods were before all the names and words and languages of men. But Korthoth-Gnaah didn't fear, and the mortal minds, that now were going out and emptying themselves into the warrior-god, could feel that the power of St. Michael and Indra was their's, and the strength of Marduk, Tarhuntas and Re-Harachte, and the might of Perun and Thor. The fire of Helios burned in their chest, and the brawn of Cuchulainn was their's. Chronos was ready to topple Ophion anew, and Jupiter readied himself to face Typhon. Apollo braced himself to confront Python, and Hercules would burn the Hydra anew. And yet, all these names and legends were faint echoes of the perpetual and aeonic struggle between the Old gods who existed in unsung ages, before men strode Hyperborea and the Polaric continent: Between Kortoth-Gnaah and The World Serpent. It had happened in the past, and it would happen again, when the stars were right. And now they were.
  17. Xyggurat

    The Bigger Man

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

    The Hazing

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

    The Trainer, Part I

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

    Even Exchange: The Mile High Club

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

    Chuck the Size Thief

    Hey everybody, just wanted to post this here as well. I finally finished my newest story and will be posting it in the replies below over the next few days. It's my take on the muscle theft genre. I've been slowly but surely cranking this out over the last year and a half or so, and it's over 40k words long, so strap in! If you like ginger musclebear giants, muscle theft/drain, big guys growing huge, mindless addiction to getting bigger and bigger, and/or greedy meatheads turning into giants, then this story is for you!
  23. 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! Addenda * Long after writing this introduction, I actually wrote a horror story about Lovecraftesque forgotten eldritch primordial spacegods, called Professor Schnackenburg's mistake. 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 steel-grey and unforgiving. 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 the initial two years of sixth form a living hell for John, and there was no sign that anything would change, until John left for university in another city and Peter’s gang left school, most likely in order to face unemployment. Peter put his black cowboy boot on John’s chest. Like his chums, Peter had enthusiastically embraced the 50’s revival when it became fashionable, and they all tried really hard to look like exaggerated stereotypes of 50’s rockers. Most of them wore black leather jackets, unbleached denim jeans, and white T-shirts or plaid shirts, and they had put some gunk in their hair and combed it in a 1950’s style. Unlike some of his friends, Peter hadn’t been able to afford a leather jacket, so he wore a cheap denim jacket instead, and had sewn a Confederate flag on it, in the belief that ’that was very rock’n’roll’. ’Is that an army jersey, Swotter? Considering joining the forces?’ John felt embarrassed. If he kept silent, it would just go on. If he answered, the result would be identical. ’It is a hunter’s jersey.’ ’We didn’t know you were hunting! Did we, lads?’ ’I don’t, but I take photographs of rare birds. The jersey protects from cold weather.’ ’Scared of blood, I see. It wouldn’t be a good idea to join the army then? Would it, Swotter?’ ’I said it isn’t an army jersey. Ouch!’ Peter had moved his boot to John’s Adam’s apple. ’Listen very carefully. If I were you, I wouldn’t insult our brave boys in green by wearing that jersey, whatever you call it. Now take it off!’ ’But… Ouch!’ Peter increased the pressure on John’s Adam’s apple, then removed his foot, and came closer to John, sitting in a squatting position. Peter grabbed John’s jersey, and minuscule stains of spit rained on John’s face when Peter shouted. ’Now, you little pansy, you take that jersey off – either putting it in the cafeteria garbage bin or giving it to Anderson here. He deserves it better than you. Isn’t that right Anderson?’ Anderson, a blond football player, about the same height as John, but considerably more athletic, had been a henchman of Peter for years. He had a smug grin on his face. ’And what do you think you are doing, you friggin’ racist?’ Peter and his friends had to turn around. John rose from the floor, dusted away spots of sand from his clothes, and looked for his chemistry book. The newcomer who had spoken was Simon, the tall leftie intellectual from the other science class. Peter leered at him. It seemed that he had met Simon before. ’Don’t meddle, Simon. This isn’t your concern.’ ’Sure it is. Yesterday, you and your gang bullied Aram’s little brother and neighbour. But after what I can see today, you like to bully anyone, regardless of origin. Ridiculous greasers!’ John adjusted his eyeglasses, and now saw that Simon wasn’t alone. He had brought Aram, the brawny Syriac hockey guy, and Carl, the anti-racist skinhead, with him. Although Peter and his friends outnumbered Simon and his friends with five to three, Peter sized up his opponents a few seconds. Although not very muscular (but rather on the slim side), Simon was tall, and it was well-known at the school that he had practiced kung-fu, before his deep commitment in the Anarchist Student Society, Amnesty International, the local melocore club (and a handful of other associations) had limited the time available on exercise. Two years ago, Simon and John had served together in the Student Council, and John had appreciated Simon’s wit. Carl was shorter than Simon, but taller than Aram. He spent some time at the gym, but not as strictly and devotedly as Aram obviously did. His shaved head gave him an aggressive demeanour, and that impression was enhanced by the gauge in his earlobe, his snug fitting maroon polo shirt, the blue braces that contrasted well against the maroon background, the bleached jeans, and the extremely well-polished, heavy and steel-capped boots on his feet. His black Alpha bomber jacket was covered with patches and pins: ’Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice’, ’The Oppressed’, ’The Burial’, ’Operation Ivy’, ’FC St. Pauli’. He oozed of angry adolescent masculinity. Aram was of average height, but more broad-shouldered than any of the young men. He had an innately muscular constitution, and had been in good shape already during his time in the hockey team. When he left secondary school, and began his sixth form education, he had left the hockey team in order to take up martial arts of some sort, and also joined a gym. He now looked like a bodybuilder without any body fat, and moved like a tiger: A very broad shouldered tiger. During their entire time at school, Aram had always been so absorbed by exercise, that he never noticed if bullying occurred somewhere around him. If Aram had begun to spend time with a decent guy like Simon, it was probably a step in the right direction. After eyeing his opponents, Peter ordered his crowd to leave. ’Everything alright now?’, Simon asked. ’Yes. Thank you for helping me.’ ’To be honest, it was just a coincidence, but I am glad that we could be of assistance. Aram here is beginning to develop a social conscience by hanging with me and Carl, aren’t you?’ Aram mumbled something, and looked down into the floor. ’I’m late to the student newspaper meeting. Later.’ Simon disappeared around a corner. Carl had to leave his bomber jacket in his locker, and was on his way to a math lesson, but Aram was scheduled for the same chemistry class as John. They were late. ’You both know that late arrival will affect your grades. It will perhaps not concern you very much, John, but in your case, Aram, I would be worried.’ It was Mr. Gustavson, the chemistry teacher, known for his sardonic personality, and secretly nicknamed ’Snape’ among the students. ’As I said before you arrived, you have to team up in pairs and study how a primitive form of plastic is produced. It is a very simple example of how polymers behave.’ ’It seems like we have to lab together, today’, John said shyly. Aram didn’t speak very much while he assisted John, but, despite their late arrival, they were the first among the students to achieve a nice cylinder of plastic in a test tube in the end of the lesson. That gave Aram an idea. * * * It had been a few days earlier, during the Sunday church lunch at the Orthodox church of St. James’. ’Ameen. Moryo nqabel qurbonokh, wlan n’adar bashlawothokh.’ The last prayer in the extremely ancient Aramaic-speaking Christian liturgy ended, and the congregation left the room, kissing the Gospel Book at the entrance, and receiving pieces of non-consecrated bread. There were old ladies in mantillas, old men in their three-piece Sunday best, lots of parents with children, a dark-eyed and doe-eyed girl’s choir in choir dress, and a bunch of young men slightly younger or older than Aram. The last group was the most noisy one, and the lads were joking and playing with each other. Most of them wore jeans, expensive jerseys and shirts, but a few of the oldest ones wore suits, and some of the younger ones were dressed in tracksuit pants and hoodies. Most of them were dark haired and wore a lot of hair gel, but some were buzzcut, and two of them were redheaded. Many of them wore sturdy golden chains around their necks, from which crucifixes or the Syriac nationalist symbol of a feathered archer hang. Some of the attendees immediately left the parking lot, but most stayed inside for the Sunday church lunch. A buffet was prepared: Bulgur mixed with roasted noodles, tabbouleh – a salad of parsley, couscous, tomatoes, onions, garlic, mint leaves, lemon and olive oil – and several smaller bowls filled with falafel, dolma, chickpea sauce and eggplant sauce. Aram sat down with his mother, his uncle and his aunt. His mother was putting her folded mantilla in her purse, now when she no longer stood inside the consecrated room. ’Listen Aram’, uncle Benjamin began, ’there is a thing your mother and I have been talking about.’ Uh, uh. Now it comes again. Aram felt tired of this. His uncle meant well, but it felt like he was picking on him. ’Before your father died, I promised him, that I would help you become a doctor, just like your father and your grandfather. We have talked about this before: You have to achieve better grades, otherwise you will not be able to study medicine.’ A steel grey lady in her sixties approached the table. Mother and aunt Layla rose, gathered around her, and began to discuss with her in the old language. Aram wasn’t good at the old language. He was born in the new country, and spoke its language without any accent. ’Your mother and I are worried about you. The medical trade is a family tradition, but your grades have not been good the last years.’ ’But you are not a doctor. You own a grocery shop.’ ’This discussion is not about me, young man, but about you. If you begin medical studies, I promise to help you financially, but if you don’t, you can’t expect any money from me for university.’ * * * It was a day later. Aram and his girlfriend Emma entered the room for the history lesson. ’Hi, Emelie!’, Emma shouted, and claimed a chair close to her friend Emelie. Emma and Emelie didn’t at all have the same preferences when it came to style, but were friends anyhow. Emma was a blonde young woman with black high rise slim fit jeans and a yellow top which revealed some of her cleavage. Her shoes were yellow Converse. Emelie, on the other side, had dyed her hair black, and wore a black dress with a lot of lace. Around Emelie’s neck hang several pendants of different sorts: A cross, a star of David and a pentagram. She didn’t discriminate between religions, but it was also possible that she didn’t care very much for what the symbols signified for other people. Aram looked around, and when he found that the chair close to John was empty, he sat down beside John. ’Hello again. Do you mind if i sit here?’ They both unpacked their laptops, and had to end their chat, since their history teacher, Mr. Johanson, had began to talk. Mr. Johanson was one of the oldest teachers at the school, and didn’t have many years left until retirement. He always wore black jeans, a sleeveless pullover and a tweed jacket. Unlike the younger male teachers, who dressed less strictly, he always had a tie knit around his neck. His hair was white and slightly receding. ’The world events of the 20th century, would probably had been very different, if World War One hadn’t occurred. The stern conditions of the peace treaty of 1919, caused many Germans and Austrians to feel disproportionally and unjustly punished, and that prepared the way for Hitler and the Second World War. For the British Empire, the end of the war initiated the slow devolvement of the empire: The Irish Free State was declared in 1922, and in 1931 dominions – such as Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Newfoundland, South Africa and the Irish Free State – were defined as ’completely self-governing’. Some sorts of constitutional reforms would probably have occurred in Russia anyhow, but not necessarily in the revolutionary Bolshevik way it now did: Don’t forget that the February Revolution in 1917 was about limiting the power of the Czar constitutionally, and preparing the way for free elections, general suffrage and civil liberties. The Bolsheviks didn’t grab the political power until October, and would probably not have reached the necessary level of initial popular support, if the Russian people hadn’t been exhausted by three years of warfare. The war also caused USA to change the way it behaved in international politics. During the 19th century the Monroe doctrine had isolated the US from international politics, but – with the exception of the Philippine-American War about a decade before World War One – the US had until then avoided entanglement in any conflict far beyond its own borders. From a certain point of view, the Philippine-American War and World War One, became templates for what later happened in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. The history of the 20th century is impossible to understand without World War One as the background. When we now begin to look closer…’ John felt good sitting so close to the big and warm lump of muscles. John hadn’t thought much about it before, but became now aware of the warm brown colour of Aram’s eyes, like brown gemstones reflecting a golden light. Aram emitted a nice scent of some sort of anti-perspirant, but probably not an expensive one. The presence of Aram made him feel comforted and protected. Aram had never or seldom preferred to sit beside John before, so this was something new. The lesson had ended. ’John, you are really smart. Would you possibly help me with homework? I want to get better test results, and who better than you?’ ’We could have begun this years ago, if you just had asked. Which day would be best for you? I often go by bus to Willow Lake in Thursdays. Wildlife photography, you know. And I suppose you exercise very often. Which day would be best for you?’ They agreed to keep Tuesdays open for study together. Emma approached them. ’You must hear this, Aram! Emelie has found such a cute shop with books and magic candles and stuff, and I could probably have my horoscope done. Isn’t it amazing? You must follow me and Emelie to that shop after school!’ * * * The following afternoon, Emelie, Emma and Aram got on the tram, and went to a picturesque part of the city Aram seldom visited. They left the tram at a stop just outside a Neo-gothic church building called Holy Trinity, and then followed a narrow and meandering, cobblestone paved alley on their way to the shop Emelie had mentioned. The houses were small and old here, but some of them seemed to have been restored recently, as an effect of ongoing gentrification. Withered roses and dark green ivy covered some of the exteriors. They passed by a tailor’s shop, a vegetarian restaurant, a dentist’s clinic and a former – now closed – bicycle workshop. A few of the buildings seemed to have been turned into homes very recently – which was easily recognised through the fresh plaster in yellow, lavender or dove blue colours, but other buildings were still shabby, some of them derelict. ’Here it is.’, Emelie announced. Aram got a first impression of the shop. He had definitely not seen it before. Grey stairs of stone led downwards to a door under street level. Two rather small shop-windows before his knees announced: Madame Cremorna. Books. Herbs. Readings. It felt a little bit spooky, but Emelie enthusiastically led them downstairs, and opened the door. A bell tinkled. The first thing that he noticed was the scent. The fragrance of many sorts of herbs and incenses mixed with each other. He felt awkward again. This wasn’t the sort of place a masculine guy like himself was expected to frequent. Wasn’t there something slightly feminine or gay about this scent? He considered to leave immediately, but that could make Emma mad at him. He didn’t want that. The second thing he noticed was the broad mix of things in the room. This was not just a book shop. The books were there, for sure – he saw a rotating stand with them: How To Earn Money By Positive Thinking. The Dolphins Speak: Telepathic Messages From Our Cousins In The Sea. The New Age Of The Flying Saucers. It could have been an ordinary New Age shop, but he could also see tin boxes with herbs, packets of soap or dry foodstuff with Spanish labels, shelfs with incense sticks and small jars with the sort of incense grains he was able to recognise from church. His association to church was increased, when he found shelves carrying a large number of glass encased novena candles with stickers depicting saints. Some of them he could recognise, but, with his family background, he was more familiar with Eastern saints than Western, and the identity of some Western saints on the candles were undecipherable. The cash register stood upon a glass desk. Inside the desk he could see decks of cards in many shapes. He hadn’t seen any cards like these before. ’How do you play poker with these?’, he asked Emelie. ’They are not for poker, stupid.’, she answered, ’They are divination decks, for reading the future’. ’I am not sure I believe in that.’, Aram replied. Just now he wasn’t sure exactly what he believed. There was an eerie feeling in the shop. He wanted to get out. ’You are free to believe in anything you want. We are all responsible for how we use our freedom, and it is unwise to go against your own conscience.’ The alto voice vibrated with a rich timbre. It belonged to a woman in her early sixties. She had probably looked good during her younger days, and she obviously still cared about her appearance. Her hair was black, without any traces of silver in it yet, and she was dressed in a rust-coloured dress and a dark grey vest of wool. Around her neck hang a tin pendant depicting a very complicated geometrical pattern. In her younger days, she could have been a hippie. ’I’m sorry lady, but I can’t believe in telepathic dolphins and flying saucers.’ Aram waved in the direction of the rotating book stand. ’To be honest, I am not at all impressed by these books myself, but some of my customers ask for them, so I sell them. It pays the rent.’ There was a slight, possibly American-English, accent when she spoke, but very faint. ’So you don’t believe in the supernatural, yourself?’ ’Oh. I do! But that depends on what you call supernatural. If you mean telepathic dolphins, saucers, physical trolls or god-kings inside a hollow Earth, I do not believe in the supernatural.’ Emelie was studying the card decks inside the glass desk, but Emma stood by Aram’s side, hugging his arm. ’You are into sports, I suppose?’, the shop keeper asked him. ’Aram was a hockey player for many years.’, Emma answered proudly. ’And now I work out and practice martial arts.’, Aram continued. ’Then the psychology of sport can’t be unknown for you.’, Madame Cremorna said, ’And you surely must have experienced, how your own mind affects your physical achievements?’ ’Well. Yes. But that’s not supernatural.’ ’It is anyhow a part of scientific reality which borders to the supernatural – that is, supernatural in the sense I use the word.’ Aram was on his way to answer, but the shop keeper continued: ’And you belong perhaps to the Assyrian Church?’ Aram smiled: ’Close enough, but you were wrong there: I belong to the Syriac Orthodox Church. The Assyrians are our cousins.’ ’And you believe in God? And in angels? And in saints?’ ’Well. Yes, I do.’ ’The supernatural I believe in is about God, about angels, about saints, but also about sports psychology. It is admittedly not a complete description of what I do – far from it – but it seems like we are able to agree about a major part of it, anyhow.’ She was silent a few seconds. ’And what are you looking for? Books? Devotionals? Cards? A horoscope? Or do you want me to use magic for some purpose?’ ’We are just looking. Emelie told us about your shop, and it is just adorable’, Emma answered, ’but it looks much more Catholic than the other New Age shop on the other side the canal.’ Madame Cremorna smiled. ’It’s perhaps because it is not a New Age shop. Not in the general sense. It is inspired by botanicas of the sort common in Florida, where I grew up. We had a lot of Cubans and Puertoricans there.’ ’Have you lived in this part of the world for a long time?’ ’Quite a long time. Yes. My former boyfriend thought it was a good idea to move to Northern Europe a few years before the end of the Vietnam War.’ Emma continued to chat with the shop keeper for several minutes. Emelie still looked at the decks. Aram began to wander around in the shop. A square diagram with twenty-three arcane symbols hang on a wall. Bookshelves contained titles such as Three Books on Occult Philosophy, The Enchiridion, Selected prayers by Allan Kardec, and The Long-Lost Friend. A burgundy-coloured curtain covered door opening to an inner room. Curiously, Aram peeked inside. Several small tables were pushed up against the walls, covered with cloths in different colours. Candles were lit, scented in several different ways. The air was sweet and heavy. ’Uh oh. The inner sanctum is only open for some customers.’, Madame Cremorna said, where she stood behind his back. Aram blushed. ’I didn’t mean to do something wrong. Sorry, lady.’ When they left the shop, Emelie brought a recently bought tarot deck, and Emma carried a folder with her personal horoscope. * * * It was two days later. The bell tinkled in the usual way, when the door to the shop opened and closed. ’And what do you want, young man?’, she asked. ’I haven’t done well in my exams. I want to be sure my grades are good when I finish Sixth Form.’, Aram said. ’And when is that? If I hadn’t first met you with that young gothic girl and her friend, I would have guessed that you were older than a Sixth Form student.’ She eyed him knowingly. ’The last semester ends in June next year.’ Her face expressed mixed emotions: Pity, astonishment and a slight amount of aunt-like cunningness. ’Magic works normally through natural means, and natural means works slowly. A lesser working could have been enough, if you had asked me a year ago, and backed the magic up with real effort in class. But now, with just eight months…’ She didn’t end her sentence. There was a sad expression in Aram’s eyes, reminiscent of a very large, but very young and sad, puppy. The element of pity in Madame Cremorna’s eyes became more prominent. ’Let us discuss natural means first. You would probably learn more, if you do homework together with someone in your class, who’s got a talent for study.’ ’I already do.’ Aram told Madame Cremorna all about John. ’You have got a good new friend in him. Be nice to him.’, Madame Cremorna said. ’Homework with John helps, but not enough, and not fast enough. And I wish I could make mother and my uncle proud. But if you can’t help me…’ ’If something of what I do works, it is not because I have helped you, but because God has answered the prayers of several beings. Some call it magic, but ultimately all things and events comes from The Supreme Being anyhow. The ways and the means and the chains of events may vary, however. Or so is the way I see it.’ ’But you said, that I should have asked a year ago?’ ’I said, that a lesser working could have been enough then. With only eight months until graduation, I have to do a greater working, but only if you are ready to pay the price.’ ’I don’t own very much, but…’ ’I don’t talk about money. I talk about the willingness to choose talent for study before anything else. Wait. Don’t say anything yet. I will give you a reading.’ ’A reading?’ ’Just relax.’ She opened a purple bag of velvet, laid a pack of cards on the table, and mumbled a prayer. Aram couldn’t hear the words. She let him shuffle the cards, and then put three cards on the table cloth. The first card depicted a knight in armour, sitting on a horse. The second card depicted an old man with a beard, clothed in some sort of mediaeval brown gown, holding a staff with a snake – similar to the symbol sometimes used by hospitals and chemists – and holding a lantern in the other hand. By his feet lay a scythe and a hourglass. Far away, the presence of an owl could be distantly hinted at. The third card depicted a young man in renaissance clothes, carrying a round plate, smaller than a shield, but larger than a coin. From his bag a scroll and a quill pen peeked out. ’Hmm…’ Madame Cremorna didn’t say much for a while. Suddenly, she gathered all the cards into the deck again, and began shuffling. She laid the deck on the cloth, and pushed it over the table. ’Here. Shuffle, and think intensely about your friend John.’ Aram did what he was told to do, and gave her the deck again. ’That was all for today. Come back tomorrow afternoon, and I will tell you if I have found a way to help you.’ Aram felt a little bit disappointed. It had been stupid of him to come here, to begin with. He shrugged and left. When he had left, Madame Cremorna again lay three cards on the table. She was rather surprised to find the knight and the squire from the last reading come up again, but this time with reversed places: The squire with the plate to the left, and the knight with a sword to the right. The card in the middle was not the same. Where the card with the old bearded man had laid a few minutes ago, now lay a card depicting a half naked and extremely muscular man clothed in the skin rug of a lion. He had left his heavy club on the ground, and was breaking a stone pillar in two halves. Madame Cremorna remained almost expressionless, but one of her eyebrows twitched. She had got an idea. When Aram returned the next afternoon, he expected bad news. The shop keeper seemed, however, to be in a good mood, although perhaps mixed with an amount of harshness. She put two class encased candles on the desk. ’You are young. I will not let you pay the full price I charge an adult with full time salary. But you must be aware of the consequences of your request. Are you willing to let your friend become less talented, while you increase your own study results?’ ’Isn’t that black magic?’ Aram felt a chill on his back. He would probably not have asked for this, to begin with. ’I never accept black workings. I accept grey ones, however. Most human wishes rests in the grey area. The born-again nonconformist who prays to God for promotion at work, the churchman praying for a happy marriage, the white light Neo-pagan sending away a spell for fair weather at the picnic – all their wishes are tainted by a certain amount of selfishness. And so is yours. All of them are mixed with good intentions. And so is yours.’ ’But I can’t rob John of his intelligence. It is not fair.’ ’That depends. A greater working will affect reality on a deeper plane. In a sense, you will have switched – or better, mixed – destinies with each other. I have tried to conjure good destines over both of you, but you will still have to pay the price of tampering with destinies.’ ’Not my soul?’, Aram asked bleakly. ’Then I refuse.’ ’No, not your soul. I do not dabble in diabolism. Actually, I have fought against the minions of darkness on several occasions. But a greater working, affecting the threads of destiny, will take its toll from the one who ordered it, quite soon after the commencement. We are all responsible for our actions. Do you really want a talent for study?’ The question hung in the air for a moment. It cannot have been for a longer time than a second or two, but for Aram it felt like time stood still, like if a gigantic pendulum in an ancient clockwork was swinging over his head. It was still time to thank her for her willingness to help, but refuse to go further. ’Yes. I really want it. Just be sure that John will be happy.’ ’No-one can be one hundred percent sure, but I have reason to believe that he will enjoy the turn of events that will unfold, as well.’ ’Ooo-key? Well, then I suppose there will be no problem? What are the candles for?’ She pointed at one of the candles. It had a card on it, depicting a man in a bishop’s mitre, writing on parchment with a quill. He was surrounded by bookshelves. ’This is St. Isidore of Seville. You will take this home, and burn it nine consecutive Wednesdays until it is all burned away. St. Isidore wrote one of the first encyclopaedias in the world, and was recently designated the patron saint of internet.’ She pointed at the other candle. The card on it depicted a broad shouldered and bearded giant carrying the infant Jesus on his shoulder. ’This is St. Christopher. In the legend he was a giant who converted to Christianity. In reality, we don’t know very much about him, but the moral of the legend is edifying anyhow.’ ’What am I supposed to do with that candle?’ ’Give it to your friend John. If he don’t want to burn it every day or night, let him burn it whenever he likes. Tuesdays would be good, however.’ * * * It was Tuesday again. According to their new habit, John was helping Aram to study. ’And what am I supposed to do with this?’, John asked, curiously holding the glass encased prayer candle. ’You know that I am an Agnostic, don’t you?’ ’Some people burn it because they like how it looks or because they like the scent. It is just one month left until Advent, isn’t it?’ Shall I tell him about it? Aram thought intensely, and felt divided. To tell him the truth. But if he became angry and refused to help anymore at study time together? John was helpful. It would be awful if something terrible happened to him. But Madame Cremorna had said that he would enjoy what was happening, whatever that was. ’But isn’t it a little bit girlish, don’t you think?’ ’Not among my relatives. It is quite common that lads wear saint pendants, for instance.’ ’Yes. Now when you mention it, I have seen some of your martial art friends wearing rosaries, and I can’t accuse them for being girlish.’ The tension disappeared when Aram began to laugh. ’No, you can’t. At least not if you don’t take into account the time they spend in the bathroom, but so do I.’ ’Well, just as a sign of my gratitude for your gesture…’ John lit the candle, and then changed the subject. ’I have been thinking’, John said, ’about exercise.’ Aram was relieved that the subject had changed: ’What about exercise? You may be good at integral calculus and derivate – I have problem understanding what the bloody words mean – but I know a lot about exercise. Ask whatever you wish.’ ’To be honest: I think it is rather – ehrm.’ John’s cheeks and ears became more red than usual. ’I mean, I think it is cool to have muscles, even if it is hard to admit.’ ’It is not something to be shy about, little buddy. Many men like to be beefy. I guess most men would like to be built, even if not everyone like to admit it. Could you imagine Snape lifting weights?’ It was not only Aram’s joke about the acerbic chemistry teacher, but also his facial expression, which helped John to explode with laughter. It also shattered John’s embarrassment. ’Could you teach me how to work out at the gym, if I help you with homework?’ ’Fair enough. I sometimes feel stupid with you. At the gym I will be the teacher.’ Aram proudly flexed his right biceps, and felt cocky when he saw how John’s eyes involuntarily became wider. ’You like what you see?’ John suddenly looked shy again. Aram felt protective. John was so short and thin. ’Want to feel that bicep? Don’t be afraid. I’m not teasing you. It is fun for me to show my results.’ Shyly, John laid his palm over Aram’s biceps, and pressed carefully. ’Harder!’, Aram encouraged. John pressed harder. Aram’s biceps was of the size and density of a croquet-ball, and it rested on a really big triceps. John felt awkward again. His dick was growing and hardening. He sat down on the bed, and hoped that Aram hadn’t noticed. ’Which gym would be good for me?’ ’Why don’t you follow me to the one I workout at?’ ’Aren’t there a lot of big guys there? And doesn’t Peter and his crew hang out there?’ ’Peter is lazy at the gym, and I haven’t seen any of his friends there. Anderson is preoccupied with football, and the others spend their time with driving lessons, booze and grass. They aren’t very healthy, if you ask me. And I will be with you there. If Peter mess with you, I will have a serious conversation with him. He better stay away. The big guys at the gym are alright. Some of them like to give advice. Carl would probably join us at some times.’ * * * John stood before the desk at the gym, and felt shy. A very fit, but not gigantic, trainer manned the desk, dressed in a snug red T-shirt with the gym’s logotype on its chest. ’I’m waiting for a friend.’, John explained apologetically. He peeked into a folder about prices, and found a one-year membership mandatory. In September next year, he would most probably study at university in another city, and the last two months of a one-year membership would be wasted. Aram came in through the door, and began discussing membership and prices with the trainer and John, and, as a result, John got a deal, which meant, that he only had to pay for ten months. They entered the locker room, changed clothes, and Aram begun to introduce John to the machines and weightroom. ’For anyone experienced, free weights are more important than machines. For a beginner, machines may have a purpose, especially for avoiding injuries. Look, for instance, on this one…’ One and a half hour later, John laid on the floor in the locker room. He had Aram’s towel under his head, and rested his legs on a bench, in order to let blood return to his head. He dripped of sweat, and felt nauseous. Aram returned from the loo with a paper towel dipped in cold water, and laid it on John’s forehead. ’I am sorry little buddy. I didn’t know where your limits were. I didn’t mean to exhaust you that much the first time.’ ’It’s not your fault. How could you know?’ * * * John and Aram had developed a habit of visiting Carl’s family on Sunday afternoons and evenings. Carl often spent Fridays and Saturdays with a bunch of SHARPs from the other side of the city, but Sundays were an opportunity for them to meet outside the gym and watch films together in Carl’s room. They all sat on Carl’s bed, with their backs against the wall. They had watched ’Captain America’ and ’Elysium’, and were now halfway into the Dwayne Johnson version of ’Hercules’. ’Look at all that muscle!’, Carl exclaimed impressed, for the second time during the evening. Aram poked him with his elbow: ’Do you know how gay you sound, Carl?’ ’Who you calling gay?’, Carl answered, and threw himself over Aram, playfully and boisterously tickling him. John bounced up in the air before landing back on the bedspread, but Aram and Carl fell to the floor, laughing and wrestling. It ended with Aram sitting on Carl’s back, holding his arm at an uncomfortable angle. * * * ’Grandmother arrives tomorrow. Will you eat dinner with the entire family?’, John’s mother – who worked with care of aged people – asked him the day before Halloween. ’I will stay home on All Saints, but Emelie has invited me to a Halloween party tomorrow night.’, John answered. ’I’m glad that you leave home more often, nowadays. But you know what grandmother will say.’ ’That borrowings of ghosts and pumpkins from the Americans will commercialise and destroy any decorous celebration of All Saints.’ John and his mother looked silently at each other with giddy looks, and both said in unison: ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ They laughed. John’s grandmother was not a particularly religious person, and, just as most of their relatives, she unreflectedly mixed Agnosticism with Christianity, but she was fond of family traditions, and decorated her home zealously at Advent, Christmas, Easter, May Day and Midsummer, just as she had done as a young mom in the 1960’s, and she enthusiastically invited friends and relatives to annual crayfish-parties and fermented-herring-dinners. The recent introduction of masquerades at Halloween hadn’t found any approval from the old lady, since she thought that such merriment would distract from the solemn commemoration of the departed. She had decorated her own parents’ tomb today, before travelling to her only daughter and her family. Unlike most persons of her grandchildrens’ generation, his grandmother celebrated her nameday, and since her name was Inga-Birgitta, she celebrated both the seventh and the twenty-fifth of October. While Aram, Carl and John lived in council flats in grey five-storied concrete buildings built in the 1970’s (and so did Peter), Simon, Emma and Emelie lived in a residential garden suburb nearby, where hedges and fences kept one-family houses of mixed age (some of them as old as the 1920’s) apart. A very busy road marked the border between the two areas, but narrow asphalt-coated paths, for bicycles and pedestrians, run in graffiti-painted tunnels under the road at two different points, connecting these two areas. John met Aram and Carl close to the nearby tunnel. John was dressed in a black suit he had bought half a year ago, when he attended the Confirmation of a cousin. John had put white theatre grease-paint in his face, and fastened vampire teeth on his eye-teeth. ’Greetings, children of the night!’ Aram and Carl smiled. Carl was dressed in camo trousers, but wore the same boots as usual. He was dressed in a black NATO jersey and some sort of combat harness. ’What is that supposed to mean, besides a soldier in general?’ ’Don’t you see? I’m G.I. Joe!’ ’I didn’t watch that film.’ ’You didn’t? It’s awesome! Let’s watch it on Sunday!’ Aram was green painted in his face, and dressed in a thick woolen overcoat. ’And you? That isn’t obvious… unless…’ Aram opened his coat. He didn’t wear any shirt, despite the cold autumnal weather. His entire torso was painted in bright green, and his trousers were purple. ’That’s hilarious! The Hulk! And it is convincing, too.’ ’You are much better than me with words, but I thank you for the compliments.’ ’Than I am’, John absentmindedly corrected Aram. The night was cold and filled with mist, but they found Emelie’s house without any problems. The house was full of very young adults, and it turned out that Emelie’s parents attended a dinner somewhere else that evening. The night went on rather well. The punchbowl probably contained something persons of their age weren’t officially supposed to drink for another two years, but, since the girls in Emelie’s circle of friends were well-behaved, and since most of the boys didn’t want to spoil the hard earned results of their physical exercise, utterly few of them drank too much. Emelie wasn’t known for having patience with fools, and had planned her guest list carefully, weeding out known drunkards. Parties with her classmates and parallel classes were otherwise known to be rather wet. Emelie had succeeded in her attempt to look like Morticia Adams. Emma was clothed in a furry pink rabbit suit, and only her face was visible. Several of the girls were dressed for an ordinary party, and qualified for a masquerade just by wearing pointy witches’ hats. John wasn’t the only vampire among the young men. A few of the guest looked like characters from animes or computer games. Emma seemed disappointed of Emelie’s choice of music: ’Emelie! Now we have listened to Fields of the Nephilim for half an hour. Don’t you have any tunes by Justin Bieber or One Direction?’ ’Are you kidding? Personally, I think it would spoil the Halloween mood, but if you wish to log into your own Spotify account, you are welcome to do so. You know where the computer is, but don’t expect me to tolerate your unbearable music for very long.’ On his way home, John felt awkward and slightly flattered. One of the lightbulbs had broken, and Emelie suffered from dizziness. She had asked John for help. When he stood at a chair, changing the lightbulb, his shirt had left the inside of his trousers and revealed his belly. Emelie had began to giggle nervously, and called after Emma. John didn’t understand why, and felt insulted. ’Please, John. Show us your abs again.’ ’My abs? What are you talking about? You know that I don’t…’ Giggling, Emelie had pinched the shirt fabric and revealed his abs again. His abs? He didn’t… He DID? ’Cool’, Emma said. ’Exercise suits you.’ * * * An Advent wreath stood on the kitchen table, burning with two lit candles and two unlit ones. It was dark outside the window, and, since the first snow had melted away, there was nothing to lighten the winter night up. John stood at a kitchen desk, taking notes of how much various foodstuffs weighed. That would simplify the composition of gym friendly recipes in the future. His mother entered the kitchen, and began to heat a small amount of mulled wine on the electric stove. ’I received phone calls from your chemistry teacher and your biology teacher today. Your physics teacher called yesterday.’ ’Yes?’ ’They are worried about you. Since you started two and a half year ago, they have regarded you as very talented in natural science, but recently your results have deteriorated. They wanted me to talk to you about it.’ ’Nothing is wrong. I just performed unusually bad in a couple of tests the last weeks.’ The mulled wine had reached a desired temperature. She poured some of the content in a mug. ’Do you want some? It is the soft drink version, so you don’t have to worry. It’s cold outside, so I needed something to drive away the chill in my bones.’ ’No, thanks. I avoid sugar as well.’ ’John, I don’t disapprove that you exercise. It seems to be healthy for you, and I am happy that you have a lot more friends now than you had before. But don’t you think you take it a little too far? Why don’t you play floorball or badminton, or jog or swim, or any other more normal sport? It can’t be good for you, to be so obsessed with what you eat. Are you going to eat like that way during Christmas as well? What will grandmother say?’ ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ ’This is not something to joke about. I’m afraid that your exercise will affect your school results. And I have read about body dysmorphia and eating disorders in the newspapers. Don’t you understand that I am worried about you? What will happen to your plans to become a physician, a biochemist or a physicist, if you let exercise distract you from studies?’ ’YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING!’, John shouted, left the kitchen, took his training bag and closed the door with a bang. His teenage anger went rampant through his mind and body: Thoughts going in a loop, his emotions boiling, his blood pressure pounding, his body temperature steaming. He loosened the wooly scarf and opened the closed zipper of his large jacket. The staff had left the gym, and the doors were closed, but members were given a key tag that unlocked the door at night. The scent of steel corroding under the influence of sweat. The scent of rubber mats. Furiously, he worked out in the almost empty gym: Only two or three other members exercised this late. It felt much better afterwards. The machines, the barbells, the dumbbells: They had helped him to release his irritation, and he now felt calm, content and harmonious. Freshly showered. Meanwhile he had been indoors at the gym, the temperature had dropped, and it had began to snow. The chill had some bite. On his way home, he unexpectedly met Carl, who was on his way home from something else: It had something to do with music. They talked. About parents and other things. Carl. Reliable Carl: Hard as nails, incredibly funny, and a kind friend to his friends. ’Ah. Come here, mate. It will be better tomorrow.’ They exchanged a hug. A brotherly hug. A rather long brotherly hug. Carl’s polo shirt was warm of his body heat. Carl’s glistening, black synthetic bomber jacket was cold of the winter temperatures. The scents from their different anti-perspirants mixed in the cool night air. A brotherly hug. Carl patted John at the back. ’It will probably be better tomorrow.’ * * * Emma sat in her sofa. Aram sat in the same armchair he had sat so many times before. A lit Advent star hung in the window, and spread a soft glow in the living room. From windows on the other side the street other electric Advent stars shone back. Emma was finishing her explanation: ’It isn’t you, it is me. I am not able to appreciate what you speak about. I miss the old Aram from when we first met: My teddy bear. My kind puppy with hockey butt. I am not interested in nuclear science, new medicines or what’s going on in parts of the world I don’t even know where they are. We have nothing in common anymore, if we ever had. I’m sorry. I like you as a friend, but …’ Her lip began to tremble. Aram hug her sadly, carefully and more softly than usual. ’I’m sorry, but I suppose that I understand…’ * * * Madame Cremorna had closed her shop at 7 p.m. as usual. Since the supermarkets kept open until 9 or 10 p.m. she had lots of time to buy the food and Christmas decorations necessary. She returned to her shop, in order to do some work. Supernatural work. She lived in an old-fashioned flat upstairs, which she had bought several years ago, before the prices had begun to rise ridiculously. Her phone rang. ’Madame Cremorna. … O hello Stephen! How is life in New York? I don’t even know what time it is in your time zone. … It is? … Aha. … A disturbance? … Oh, yes, I am up to a major working, but it is far from world-shattering, you know. Professional secrecy, so I can’t say anything, but I can assure you that it is just about the private life of two persons and their surroundings. It is not like I am about to open a gate for Dormammu or Nergal, if you know my drift. … Not funny? I see. … You are? London? Why? … But what brings you and John to this corner of the world? … No? You are kidding? … Yes, of course. Do you have any dietary restrictions before that working? … No. … No, it is no problem at all: I have a lot of vegetarian Christmas dishes. … Pardon? … No, it doesn’t surprise me that John isn’t picky. If he would like it, I could probably find a christmas pudding and a turkey for him God knows where, but you have to know that the locals prefer ham, meatballs, cabbage and vanilla rice pudding at this time of the year. And herring. Lots of herring. Remind me to put an ash tray in my living room while you stay. … Oh yes. … No, no problem at all. Take care, and give me a call when you think you will stop by.’ She hang up and washed her hands, first in running water and a non-perfumed soap, then in Florida Water. She sprinkled herself with holy water, went before her private shrine and lit both the altar candles and the incense. The air in the room felt thicker now, and the room felt connected to the rest of the world and to the unseen aspects of reality. Her highly trained senses could feel the presence of God, of spirits of many sorts, and of unseen subtle influences stretching themselves out from the room as a cobweb of spiritual light. ’Almighty and everlasting God, who harkened to the prayers of Moses in the wilderness, when he, assisted of Aaron and Hur, prayed for victory against the Amalekites, hear me…’ After a long prayer she stretched her hands out over fragments of candle wax she had removed from a candle, in order to fill it with scented oil. ’O God of my fathers, and Lord of Mercy, who hast made all things with thy word, and ordained man through thy wisdom, that he should have dominion over the creatures which thou hast made, and order the world according to equity and righteousness, and execute judgment with an upright heart: Give me wisdom, that sitteth by thy throne; and reject me not from among thy children…’ Then she did the same to fragments from another candle: ’It is God, that girdeth me with strength of war: and maketh my way perfect. He maketh my feet like harts’ feet: and setteth me up on high. He teacheth mine hands to fight: and mine arms shall break even a bow of steel…’ She had repeated this for weeks now. Divine Spirit was answering. The wheels of the invisible and incomprehensible world machinery turned, and unseen chains of causes and effects slowly turned the former reality into something slightly, slightly different. * * * Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7140-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-two/
  24. 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/
  25. godofjurai

    Symbiotic Bonding - Part 01

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