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Found 82 results

  1. * FINALLY FINISHED * This Chapter is the very first one with NONE of the JP story in it at all, but I will fill a gap in Chapter 21: between JP and Matt's workout at JP's house and heading to the park to meet Andrew and his friends. Once JP and Matt were done playing football with Andrew, Mike and Carrie, they decided to get changed before having supper at JP's house with his parents and Matt's mom. "Matt and I brought a change of clothes with us," JP said, as he and Matt held up their backpacks. "But I'm guessing that you three left your good clothes back at your hotel." "Yes we did JP," Andrew said, "But I brought a Washington Area map with me so that we could find our way here from our hotel." He unfolded the map on his truck hood and pointed to the pink line that went along the roads from the Comfort Inn Pentagon City to Burke Lake Park. He handed JP a pink highlighter and added, "All you have to do now JP is trace the route from here to your house on the map." "Why did you choose a pink highlighter to mark the map with Andrew?" JP asked him with a slight frown. "It's the only colour that wasn't already on the map, so it will stand out," Andrew replied. "I didn't pick that colour to make a crack at you and Matt, if that's what you're thinking." "Actually I was for an instant Andrew," JP conceded, lowering his eyes to the map to hide his embarrassment at being wrong. Then he looked back up at Andrew and added, "I'm sorry about that man." "Don't you know me better than that JP?" Andrew asked him with a hurt look on his face. "I'd never make fun of someone else's choice of partners! I'm not your brother Ryan you know!" "Yeah I do know that Andrew, but I'm just really nervous about anyone else finding out about me and Matt," JP revealed in a very soft voice. Andrew leaned closer to make sure he could hear everything JP was about to say. As he continued tracing the route to his house and filled in the address, he added, "With all the people who have found out today: Matt's mom, you and Carrie, I don't know how much longer we can keep the secret from getting out." "Well don't worry JP, I won't tell anyone: certainly not your parents at dinner tonight," Andrew promised him. "You can trust me like a brother; I hope you know that." "I do Andrew," JP assured him, breathing a big sigh of relief. He set down the highlighter after he finished tracing the route to his house: which was in the subdivision north of the park. "Now, onto a different subject Andrew." His big friend nodded in agreement and stood up to his full height. "As you can see from the map Andrew, my house is in the triangle formed by Burke Lake Road, the Fairfax County Parkway and Ox Road." "I have eyes JP!" Andrew teased him. JP looked up from the map and grinned as he saw Andrew smiling at him. "You know Andrew, even with the map highlighted, you might have a hard time finding my house without my help. Why don't Matt and I follow you guys back to your hotel in his car. Then all you'll have to do is follow me back to my house." "Good idea man," Andrew agreed, looking at his watch. "It's 3 pm now; what time are your parents expecting us for supper?" "5:30," JP replied. "Let's go back to your hotel where we can all get changed. Then Matt and I can show you three around the Springfield Mall and our other favourite hangouts before we head back to my house for supper." "Good ideas JP," Andrew said. "Let's go," he added, folding up the map and opening the driver's door of his truck. Carrie got into the passenger seat and Mike got into the back seat. Everyone closed their doors and wound down their windows. JP stood beside Andrew's window and said, "You lead the way to your hotel Andrew; I'll be right behind you." Andrew smirked at his choice of words. "I didn't mean it that way Andrew!" JP chuckled, feeling his face turn red with embarrassment. "But I'll expect you to be right behind me when we leave your hotel!" "Funny man JP, but I'm a giver, not a taker!" Andrew laughed, hoping to ease JP's embarrassment. His ploy worked as he saw the redness fade from JP's face. "Let's see if you can keep up with me," Andrew bragged, proving that JP wasn't the only one who could use double meanings. JP laughed as he headed to his car and Andrew started his engine. Once JP and Matt got into his car, Andrew pulled out of the parking lot and onto Ox Road. He turned right onto Burke Lake Road and headed northeast towards the intersection with Braddock Road. JP stayed right behind him as they headed northeast, passing a few houses on their left side. "I just thought of something Andrew," Carrie said suddenly. Andrew looked over at her briefly and saw her looking very thoughtful. He waited for a few seconds for her to speak and then prompted her, "Well don't keep it to yourself Carrie, unless it's something I shouldn't know." "It is something you should know, but JP forgot to tell us," Carrie said. "What's that?" Andrew asked her. "JP never told us if his parents know we're coming for supper or how much they know about us," Carrie replied. "I'm sure he asked them if we could come over for supper, but you're right: we don't know what he told them about us," Andrew realized. "I wonder if JP let them know that he thinks of me as his honorary big brother." "I don't know Andrew, but we should ask him when we get back to our hotel," Carrie decided. After about ten minutes, Andrew turned right onto Braddock Road and headed east towards the Capitol Beltway: specifically Interstate 495. "Hey JP, Andrew's taking Braddock Road towards the Beltway: a route we know very well," Matt said. "Yeah and he seems to know where he's going, probably because he highlighted the route from his hotel to the park," JP informed him. "He's probably back-tracking." He noticed Matt looking confused, so he elaborated, "He's retracing his route back to his hotel." Matt nodded in understanding as JP mentally kicked himself for forgetting that his boyfriend wasn't a genius like him. After another couple of minutes, the ramps of the Capitol Beltway came into view and Andrew took the southbound ramp of Exit 54B onto I-495. "Now we head south to Exit 57, which we will take onto Interstate 395 northbound," Carrie informed him, looking down at the map in her lap. "Thanks Carrie," Andrew said, keeping his eyes on the interstate traffic as he carefully merged with it. "This traffic is really heavy; it's worse than driving on the 401 in Toronto!" "Don't tell me that you're nervous Andrew!" Carrie teased him, trying to put him at ease. "You can flatten linebackers effortlessly in football games! Is my huge muscular man scared of a few little cars that he could probably overturn with no effort at all?" "Ok Carrie, I know what you're doing, and it's working," Andrew laughed. "Thank you for helping me relax; I'll have to reward you for that later." "How about we shower together back at the hotel and you can show me how grateful you are," Carrie suggested with a sexy smile. "Okay Carrie, but don't distract me too much with sex talk on this busy highway," Andrew ordered her. He smirked as he noticed her staring at his crotch and then swiftly caught her hand as she reached for the waistband of his gym shorts. "Don't even think about giving me Road Head Carrie; it would be too dangerous in this traffic!" Mike burst out laughing from the backseat and Andrew glared at him in the rear view mirror. "Shut up man; you're not helping!" "It's your fault for speaking your thoughts Andrew, when you should have kept them inside your head!" Mike chuckled. Carrie burst out laughing at his choice of words and Andrew finally cracked a smile: realizing that they had teamed up to make him relax. "Okay guys, it worked: I'm relaxed now," Andrew assured them. "Are you happy now?" "I'll only be happy when I can feel the soft touch of my big man in the shower," Carrie informed him. "You won't have long to wait for that Carrie, as long as you keep your eyes on the road so that we don't miss our exit," Andrew reminded her. Carrie smiled as she looked back at the road and imagined all the fun she and Andrew would have in their hotel shower later. Once JP's car and Andrew's truck got to the intersection of I-495 and I-395, they turned onto I-395 and took it northeast towards Alexandria, passing the Landmark Mall and skirting the northern Edge of the city. They finally reached Andrew's hotel at the Glebe Road exit and pulled into the parking lot. "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Andrew asked as he got out of his truck. "Whatever you say 'Mr Scott,'" JP laughed, recognizing Andrew's quote from Relics: a Star Trek Next Generation Episode. "So, now that we're here which rooms should Matt and I shower and get changed in?" "Mike's room," Andrew replied. "Carrie and I are going to have fun together alone in our hotel room." He glanced over at Carrie with a suggestive smirk, and she returned it with one of her own. Then Andrew turned back to JP and said, "Let's go upstairs now and we'll meet in the lobby in half an hour." JP nodded in agreement as he and Matt followed Andrew into the lobby and up the stairs to his room. "Were you afraid that our combined weight would be too much for the elevator Andrew?" JP asked him with a joking grin. "No JP!" Andrew laughed. "I just figured that star athletes like us don't take the elevator. That's something lazy people would do!" JP laughed as Mike opened the door and waved to Andrew as he and Matt followed Mike inside. "Alone at last Carrie," Andrew said, picking Carrie up effortlessly and taking her into his room. He closed the door with his free hand and began kissing Carrie softly as they headed into the bathroom. "I hope you're going to do more than kiss me Big Man," Carrie teased him with a sexy smile. "I'll hug you as well Carrie," Andrew promised her. "I want you to fondle me," Carrie ordered him. "Maybe later Carrie; I don't want to risk hurting you and the shower is going to be awfully slippery once it's all wet," Andrew reminded her, turning it on. "And so will you Andrew; I'll make sure of that!" Carrie chuckled. "Well then, you'd better start right now Carrie," Andrew decided, making sure the bathroom door was closed. He smirked as Carrie struggled to take off his skintight t-shirt. "What's the matter Carrie: is my t-shirt too tight for you to get off?" "Yes it is Andrew, so I'll let you do it," Carrie chuckled, as Andrew peeled off his t-shirt. "I'll have to figure out some other way to make you happy." "I certainly will be if you keep doing what you're doing Carrie," Andrew assured her, as she began fondling his massive pecs and eight-pack abs. "You mean if I keep doing you," Carrie suggested with a sexy smirk as her soft hands continued to explore his massive muscles. "I don't think that would be a good idea Carrie, at least not until we're both legally consenting adults," Andrew said seriously. Carrie nodded in agreement, not knowing the real reason Andrew was reluctant to have sex with her: he was afraid he would hurt her with his great size and strength. "I'll just keep massaging your massive muscles Big Man." "Yeah Carrie, you've waited since this morning to worship my massive muscles, haven't you?" Andrew asked her with a cocky smirk. "Yeah I have Big Man," Carrie replied, closing her eyes in pleasure as Andrew gently massaged her face and neck. She quivered in anticipation as Andrew bent down and gently kissed her. As his massive arms came gently around her slender frame, Carrie felt tears running down her face. "I love you so much Andrew, and it only grows deeper the more intimate we become!" "Well don't worry Carrie, I'll make sure it gets better each time," Andrew promised her, gently wiping her tears of happiness off her face. "I look forward to it Andrew, and it will be great when we go all the way: hopefully before Christmas," Carrie hoped. Andrew smiled and nodded: feeling nervous about having sex with Carrie for the first time, but only because he was afraid that he would accidentally hurt her with his great strength. Knowing how irresistible his massive muscles were for her, Andrew no longer had any doubts about performing up to and beyond Carrie's expectations. For the next 20 minutes, Andrew and Carrie fondled, hugged and kissed as they had their shower. Then they got changed into their clothes for dinner. They made sure they had their ID and US money and then stepped out into the hallway, locking the door behind them. "Oh, no one to meet us," Andrew said, as he noticed that the other three were not out of their hotel room yet. "Good, that means they aren't ready yet, so we were still able to beat them even though we had fun with each other in the shower," Carrie said. "Yeah, but they had to take their showers one at a time," Andrew realized. "That means it took twice as long." "Don't you mean three times as long Andrew?" Carrie corrected him. Andrew shook his head with a slight smile and Carrie nodded in sudden understanding, realizing that JP and Matt had probably taken their shower together. "Sorry about my mistake Andrew." "No problem Carrie," Andrew assured her. "Now I'm going to see if they're ready." But he didn't get the chance; as soon as he stepped up to the room next door, the door opened and JP stepped out. "Hey Andrew, I see you and Carrie are all ready for dinner," he said. "Yes we are JP; are you and Matt ready to lead us to the Springfield Mall?" Andrew asked him. "Yes Andrew, but I was hoping I could ride alone with you," JP requested. "I'd like to prepare you for the reception you'll face at my parents house. Matt can follow us with Carrie and Mike in my car." "That's fine with me JP," Andrew agreed, after Carrie nodded in approval. "Let's go." As they walked down the hall to the elevator, Carrie smiled at Andrew, very happy that she had such a great boyfriend. JP led them to the elevator, and the doors opened as they approached. A crowd of people got off the elevator and then the five teenagers stepped inside. Andrew pressed the lobby button and the elevator doors closed. After the doors closed and the elevator began to descend, Mike said to JP, "My older brother's name is Matt." "That's good Mike; what does he do?" JP asked him. "He's in the Infantry in the Canadian Army," Mike replied proudly. "He's one of Andrew's instructors during his reserve weekends." JP nodded as the elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal the hotel lobby. As he led the way across the lobby to the front doors, he said, "We'll make the Springfield Mall our first stop," he added, looking down at Andrew's map. "Will we see any of your friends there JP?" Andrew asked. "No I don't think so Andrew," JP replied. "I never see much of them during the summer." He pushed open the front door and led everyone outside. "See you at my house Matt and be careful driving my car." "I will JP," Matt promised him, waving goodbye. "Since you commented on my car when I arrived at the park earlier, you won't have any trouble finding it in the parking lot JP," Andrew said. JP nodded and tried to figure out how to tell Andrew what he had noticed without making his huge friend mad. Once they got to Andrew's truck, JP took a deep breath and said, "I have something to tell you Andrew, but I don't know how you'll react." "Then you'd better tell me now, before we get in the truck JP," Andrew warned him. "That way, you won't be trapped in a confined space with me if you make me mad." "OK Andrew: here goes," JP said, screwing up his courage. "Basically, when you were bragging about the fun you were going to have with Carrie in your hotel room, you were acting just like Ryan does." "Again with your brother JP," Andrew sighed in exasperation. He opened his truck door and added, "I really hope I get to meet him, considering how obsessed with him you are. From what you've told me, he sounds a lot like some teammates of mine who are arrogant jocks." "Ryan used to be on the wrestling team with me before he focused only on football," JP said as Andrew started the truck. "Now he has a full ride to Virginia Tech." "Are you proud of him for that?" Andrew asked him as they pulled out of the parking lot. "I would be if he wasn't such an arrogant prick about it!" JP snapped. "He took off a summer road trip without even telling our parents where he was going! They just hope that he makes it to Tech in time for the first football practice." "You know, since he's an incoming Freshman, he'll probably be Red-shirted," Andrew informed him. He noticed JP grinning and added, "That should knock his ego down a notch or two." JP's grin widened as he realized that Andrew had once again found a way to make him feel better. Then he suddenly realized something else. "Hey Andrew, does that mean that you won't get any playing time in your freshman college season either?" "I will get some playing time if we win the Provincial Championship this fall JP," Andrew predicted with a cocky smirk. "However, we'll have to wait to see how much playing time the football coaches at Ohio State offer me." He noticed JP's grin turn into an excited smile at the mention of the school he wanted to go to for college wrestling. "Consider my recruiting visits this summer practice for yours next summer JP," Andrew advised him. "By bringing you along with me, you'll be on the radar of the college wrestling coaches and maybe they'll come see some of your matches this fall. Make sure you wear your varsity wrestling jacket on my recruiting visits and bring your District Finalist medal as well." "I will Andrew," JP promised his big friend, really happy that Andrew was preparing him early for his college career. "After supper, I'll get my jacket and medal out of my room for the road trip that starts tomorrow. Did you bring your football jacket with you Andrew?" "Yeah man, it's in the back of the truck in my gym bag," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "I'll probably wear it at the mall; it should be cool enough in there." "Good, then we can see how close in colour scheme they are," JP said, suddenly remembering that Andrew's school colours were blue and white just like his. As they approached the Capitol Beltway, Andrew said, "There's a question I've been meaning to ask you JP." "You want to know how much my parents know about you," JP guessed. When Andrew nodded, JP added, "You also want to know if I got their permission to go on your recruiting visits with you." "And what is the answer to those two questions JP?" Andrew asked him with a big grin. "I'll tell you right now Andrew," JP replied. "We should be at the Springfield Mall by the time I'm done." Andrew nodded at him to go ahead and JP began speaking. ================================================================================================================================================= A few hours before, JP and Matt had gone over to JP's house for their daily morning workout in JP's basement gym. Then they went upstairs to shower and change for lunch with JP's parents. They came downstairs to find JP's parents finishing the lunch preparations in the kitchen. "Good morning JP," his mom Maureen greeted him. "Did you and Matt have fun last night at the National Mall?" "Yes we did Mom, though there was one unpleasant incident that had a positive outcome." "What happened son?" his dad Paul asked him, as his wife ushered them into the dining room for lunch. "A big college guy and his friend were sexual harassing Chrissy so I intervened," JP replied as he sat down at the dining room table. He noticed his dad's face clouding with rage so he hurried on with the story. "One of the big guys wanted to fight me, so when he went to punch me I twisted his arm behind his back, put him in a choke hold and threw him to the ground. Chrissy thanked me after they ran away and then we suddenly noticed two huge guys approaching us. I was about to fight them too, but Chrissy told me that they had been approaching to help her out before I got there. I thanked the huge guys for being ready to help Chrissy out and then Matt and I introduced ourselves to them. We got to know them better throughout the evening and they watched the fireworks with us later, after introducing us to their friend Carrie of course." "And what are the names of these two huge heroes?" JP's dad asked him with a big grin. "Andrew Pearson and Mike Stevenson," JP replied with a proud grin. "Andrew Pearson: the YouTube High School Football Star from Orillia, Ontario, Canada?" JP's mom asked in astonishment. "That's what I asked and Andrew confirmed it," JP replied. He turned to his dad and added, "He's a really great guy Dad and I got to know him quite well in the half hour before the fireworks started." After telling his parents everything he and Andrew had talked about, he showed them the pictures and videos he had taken of Andrew the night before. Then he concluded the story by saying, "I told Andrew that I'd ask you two if he could come over for dinner tonight with his friends to meet you and Matt's mom." "Well considering all that you've told us about him, that sounds like a great idea son," Maureen said, as they continued eating lunch. She looked over at Paul, who nodded in agreement, and added, "He sounds like a great role model for you and I'm glad that his success hasn't gone to his head." "It sounds to me like Andrew could teach your brother Ryan a thing or two about what being a big brother is all about," Paul said with pride in his eyes. "We'd be honored to have a famous Canadian high school football star eat dinner with us tonight." JP grinned, knowing that those words were high praise indeed coming from his dad. "Did you say that Andrew and his friends are going on recruiting visits throughout the Mid-West this week?" "Yeah Dad, but I guess I forgot to tell you what Andrew offered to do for me and Matt," JP realized. "Did Andrew offer to take you two on his recruiting visits with him?" Paul guessed with a glowing grin of pride. JP nodded and Paul shouted, "I knew it! Andrew is indeed the role model you need right now and he's thought of everything to help you secure your college wrestling career!" "You sound more excited about it than I am Dad!" JP teased him. "I am excited JP; Andrew's going to help your college wrestling dreams come true," Paul predicted. "He's really filling the role of the big brother very well so far. We'll have to talk to him over supper of course, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather have looking after you than Andrew Pearson." "I don't need anyone to look after me Dad, not after I took down that punk who was bugging Chrissy last night!" JP informed his dad with a glare. He flexed his biceps and snarled, "I can take care of myself and anyone who cares to test that theory is going to regret it!" "I should have chosen my words more carefully son, but so should you," Paul warned him with a frown. "I hope you don't try to start anything with Andrew; judging by his size, he could crush you like a paper cup!" "And Ryan too!" JP predicted with a cocky smirk. "Stop it son!" Maureen shouted angrily. "Ryan may have been acting like a jerk for the last few years but he's still your brother. He might need you one day, so don't turn your back on him now." Mrs. Maloney had no idea how prophetic those words were, but in a couple of years they would all find out. "Okay Mom, I understand," JP said, mostly to placate her because he couldn't imagine a future where he and Ryan would ever be close again. "I'll think about what you said and try to think of Ryan as my brother and not my rival." "Good for you son," Paul commended him. "But speaking of rivals, both you and Andrew lost your respective championships last season, didn't you?" "Yeah Dad, but why are you bringing that up now?" JP asked. "Maybe during your road trip this week, you and Andrew can mentor each other on how to win your respective championships this season," Paul replied. "I could also give you two some tips during supper tonight." "Good idea Dad," JP said sheepishly, looking down at his plate as he finished his lunch. "I'll tell your ideas to Andrew when I see him at Burke Lake Park this afternoon." "Good for you son: you're including him in your workouts," Paul said approvingly. "After supper you should show Andrew your basement weight room and the wrestling room at school." "More good ideas Dad," JP agreed, as he and Matt stood up from the table. "Can Matt and I head over to the park now to meet Andrew and his friends?" "As soon as you call your mother Matt," Maureen replied, standing up to collect the lunch dishes. "Invite her over for supper and you can tell her all about meeting Andrew and his friends last night." Matt nodded and went into the living room to make the call. His mom agreed to come over to JP's house for supper that night and told him, rather hesitantly, to have fun with JP and his new friends in the park that afternoon. Then Matt and JP said goodbye to JP's parents and headed over to Burke Lake Park to go running with Andrew and his friends. ============================================================================================================================================= "Good story JP," Andrew commended him, as they pulled into the Springfield Mall parking lot. "Well, here we are at the Springfield Mall." The 2006 sign below is only one year after my story takes place: July 2005. "I have eyes Andrew!" JP teased him, throwing Andrew's earlier line back in his face and pointing to the mall sign. Andrew grinned at him and then noticed JP's car pull up beside them with Matt, Carrie and Mike inside. "Hey Matt, I see you made it okay." "Yes I did JP; so what will we do in the mall for the next hour or so?" Matt asked him. "We'll just walk around and stretch from our workout this morning and our jogging this afternoon," JP replied. Then he got out of Andrew's truck and turned around to see Andrew putting on his blue and white ODCVI Varsity football jacket. "And now I know what Andrew's going to do: show off his jock status to all the people on the mall." "Yeah JP, I have to give into the jock image sometime so it might as well be right now," Andrew informed him with a cocky smirk. He locked his truck and added, "I'm ready if you are JP." "Yeah I am Andrew," JP said, following Andrew to the nearest mall entrance. Andrew led the way into the mall and headed for the food court, once he checked the directory to find out where it was. "Supper's not for a couple of hours Andrew." "Yeah I know, but I haven't eaten since lunch so I'm starving man," Andrew informed him. "These huge muscles need constant fuel to stay well maintained." "I can understand that man, but no one could miss how well maintained your huge muscles are. There should be a Five Guys in the food court." Once they got to the food court they realized that there was no Five Guys there. "It looks like you made a mistake JP: there's no Five Guys here," Mike said. "Thank you Captain Obvious," JP snapped. "I don't suppose you can tell me where the nearest Five Guys is?" "You're the one who lives in this area JP; you tell us," Mike dared him, not letting JP know that he knew the answer. "Right across the Interstate on Old Keene Mill Road," JP suddenly remembered. "Let's go: I'll show you guys my favourite restaurant." "And then I can return the favour if you ever come up to Orillia," Andrew offered. Everyone nodded in agreement and then retraced their steps back to their cars. As they walked, JP realized that there was something different about Andrew, but he couldn't put his finger on it. His huge friend seemed taller than he had been before their visit to he hotel, and there was a nagging sound that JP had constantly heard since they had entered the mall. JP slowed, lost in thought, and then looked ahead at Andrew. He finally noticed the source of the nagging sound he had heard. "You're wearing cowboy boots Andrew: that's why you're suddenly taller," JP realized. "Am I?" Andrew asked, looking down. "Oh yeah I am. But then I've always worn cowboy boots since Grade Five, so I didn't even notice. I only wear shoes when I have to dress up, work out or play sports. And the reason that I'm noticeably taller is because the heels on my boots are three inches, not the normal inch and a half. So I stand 6 foot 10 with my boots on: making me the same height as the Undertaker. So I may have to duck my head to get into your house." "Don't worry about it Andrew; you look really cool and tough," JP commended him. "It's no wonder everyone we've passed has stared at you in awe and fear!" "Don't forget about yourself JP; you attract a lot of attention as well," Andrew reminded him. "Yeah I noticed that yesterday at the National Mall and on the train," JP said, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Don't feel embarrassed JP; it comes with the territory of being a top athlete," Andrew informed him. "Just wait until the interviews start!" "You've had interviews Andrew?" JP asked him in astonishment. "Yeah man, I was Athlete of the Week on VR News at the end of the last football season," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "Then the college recruiting visits started a few months ago." "Which schools did you visit this spring Andrew?" JP asked him, as they reached Andrew's truck. "Penn State, West Virginia, Clemson, Georgia Tech, Alabama, Florida and Miami," Andrew replied, his smug grin morphing into a cocky smile. "But those were Junior Day visits, held during March Break. I was one of only 50 high school junior athletes at those events." They got into Andrew's truck and he started it. "The first visits to the schools just for me start tomorrow when we visit Ohio State." "You mean The Ohio State," JP corrected him as they pulled out of the parking lot. Andrew smiled and nodded; realizing that of course JP would know the proper name of the school he wanted to wrestle at during his college years. "What other schools are we visiting this week Andrew?" "Notre Dame and the University of Michigan," Andrew replied, pleased that he would be able to visit three US Football schools that week. "I would have visited Michigan State as well, but they don't offer tours of their football stadium. An Unofficial Visit isn't much good without being able to tour the stadium where I might play college football one day." As they drove across the bridge over the Interstate, JP asked, "Will we spend one night at each school Andrew?" "That's the plan JP, but I'll have to check Mapquest to be sure," Andrew replied. "From what I remember though, the first leg of the trip takes us to Ohio State in six and a half hours. We'll pass halfway between Pittsburgh and Morgantown on Interstate 70 westbound." "And I'm guessing that the schedule is more flexible since we're driving," JP guessed, as they stopped at the red light at the west end of the bridge. Andrew nodded in agreement as the light turned green and they were able to turn left before the oncoming traffic started moving. Andrew parked his truck in front of the Five Guys restaurant and waited for Matt to pull up beside him in JP's dark green Geo Prism. Then everyone went into the restaurant and lined up behind an older couple until it was time to order their food. The guys at the counter soon took their order, staring at JP in awe and Andrew in fear. Andrew felt exasperated that he got the same reaction everywhere he went but he was also relieved that JP was diverting some of the attention off of him. As they waited to pick up their order, Andrew sent Mike to pick a table for them with Matt and Carrie. Then he turned back to JP and noticed him glancing warily around the restaurant. "What is it JP; what has you so nervous?" Andrew asked, though he could guess. "I'm making sure no one from school is in here," JP replied. "I'm really popular there, even more so now than my brother, and since we have a supper timing to meet, I don't want there to be any more delays." He smirked as Andrew grinned at his use of a military phrase. "Just a phrase I picked up from my dad Andrew." Andrew nodded with a smile and hen turned back to the counter to pick up their order. JP breathed a sigh of relief: pleased that Andrew hadn't figured out that JP didn't want anyone from school telling Ryan about his new friend Andrew. But his hopes were dashed as he turned towards their table and noticed a huge familiar figure coming through the front door. "Oh no," JP groaned in dismay; not pleased at all to see his brother's former teammate on the football team. "Let's get to our table Andrew, before he sees us." "Who are you talking about JP?" Anew asked, as they reached their table. "It's Tyler Backton: Ryan's teammate on the football team," JP replied, putting a hand to his forehead in dismay as they sat down. "Of all the people I didn't want to see today, he's the one who could tell Ryan all about you!" "Maybe if he tells Ryan that I took over his role as your big brother, it will shame Ryan into reclaiming it," Andrew suggested hopefully. "Don't worry JP; I'll stand up and hopefully my size will scare Ryan once he hears about it." He stood up, revealing himself and drawing Tyler's attention. Tyler's eyes widened in astonishment at Andrew's size and he carefully approached JP's table. "Hey JP, who's your big friend?" Tyler asked hesitantly once he has stopped beside JP's table. "It's huge friend actually, and his name is Andrew Pearson," JP replied, standing up from the table. Andrew stepped forward to shake Tyler's hand, towering over him even though Tyler stood 6 foot 3 and weighed 275 pounds. Tyler had to conceal a wince at the strength in Andrew's grip, guessing that JP's huge friend could bench a lot more than 400 pounds. "Good to meet you Tyler," Andrew said. "You used to play high school football with JP's older brother Ryan, didn't you?" "Yeah this is my senior year coming up so it's my last chance to impress Penn State enough to get a full football scholarship." "Then we have something in common: we both want to earn a full ride from the NCAA," Anew informed him. "I hope to get into Miami but depending on how the recruiting visits go, I could be persuaded to stay closer to home: like Ohio State perhaps." Andrew glanced significantly at JP as he finished speaking, who took it as a cue to say goodbye to Tyler. "It was good seeing you Tyler but we have a dinner timing to meet. I'll say hi to Ryan for you when I see him again and I'll see you at the wrestling camp in six weeks." "Sure JP; see you later," Tyler said agreeably. He nodded at Andrew and added, "Nice meeting you man." "You too Tyler," Andrew said, giving him a big grin. "See you later." Tyler nodded and headed out of the restaurant with his take-out order. Once he was gone, Andrew turned to JP and said, "There now, that wasn't much of a delay, was it JP?" JP shook his head and grinned: pleased that Andrew had once again found a way to make him feel better. Half an hour later, as they were driving to JP's house, JP said, "I have a very important question to ask you Andrew." "What is it Big Guy?" Andrew asked him, glancing over at him with a small grin. "What's it like to be you?" JP asked, looking over at Andrew with great respect in his eyes. "What do you mean JP?" Andrew asked, even though he had an idea. "You're admired and respected by everyone, even my friends, you're a god on the football field and lots of NCAA schools want you to join their football teams. How have you stayed so humble even though you've been a super jock for years?" "Super jock: that's a good one JP," Andrew said with a smirk. He noticed his smaller friend looking at him seriously, waiting earnestly for an answer. "It hasn't been easy not to let all the attention go to my head for the past seven years. But once I took care of the bully in Grade Five, everyone admired and respected me for being their hero. I couldn't bear to disappoint them, so I had to play the role of the humble big guy." "So you're just pretending to be humble Andrew?" JP asked, looking disappointed. "At first I was, but then it became my natural state," Andrew informed him. "I had a rough time when my Grandpa died almost a year ago and I gave into the cocky jock role to cover it up. But when I got suspended from the team and then we lost the Provincial Championship, it put things in perspective and I returned to my humble and gentle nature. Also, everyone wanted to learn how I got so big and strong so I gradually became a mentor for the small guys: training them to become football players like me in high school." JP grinned: pleased that his image of Andrew as a gentle giant had not been tarnished. "It sounds like you've made nothing but good decisions in your life man." "I know it seems that way now, but 2004 was quite frankly a 'Year of Hell' for me," Andrew informed him with a frown. "That was the title of a two-part Voyager episode in November 1997," JP suddenly realized. "Yeah, but unlike the crew of Voyager, the events were not erased by a magic reset button so I have to live with those memories for the rest of my life," Andrew said seriously. "I was allowed to play the final two games of last season and I didn't let my emotions get the better of me even when we lost the Provincial Championship. Coach Everson noticed my newfound maturity and helped me get invites to Junior Days here in the States a few months ago. And now I'm going on my first Unofficial Visits to schools in the Midwest." "Are you bringing Mike along, just like me, to help him get exposure to the college coaches?" JP asked him, astonished at Andrew's story of maturity discovery. "Yeah man, he was my first protege: I taught him everything he knows," Andrew replied proudly. "I want to help him realize his college football dreams. Unless the college coaches ban me from bringing anyone else along on my recruiting visits, I'll make sure the limelight shines on all my proteges." JP nodded, pleased with Andrew's explanation, and then just glanced occasionally at his huge friend in awe during the rest of the drive to his house. Andrew noticed and smiled quietly to himself: pleased that he inspired such admiration from a famous athlete like JP Maloney. Once they arrived at JP's house, Andrew got out of his truck and took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. "It's okay Andrew, I told my parents nothing but good things about you," JP assured him, as Matt pulled up in JP's car. "You lead the way into your house with Matt JP," Andrew ordered him. "I'll follow with Carrie and Mike." JP nodded and led the way to the front porch. As he climbed the front steps, the front door opened and JP's parents stepped out. "Hello son, how are you?" JP's dad asked him. "I'm fine Dad: I had a great day with my friends," JP replied. He motioned behind him and added, "I'd like you to meet my new friend Andrew Pearson." Mr. Maloney, who rarely had an emotional reaction to anything, widened his eyes in astonishment at how huge and muscular Andrew was. JP, on the other hand, grinned at how much bigger and more muscular Andrew was than his big brother Ryan. "I'm very pleased to meet you Andrew," Mr. Maloney said, revealing his admiration for Andrew by using his first name right away. He stepped forward and shook Andrew's hand eagerly, who remembered to be gentle so that he wouldn't crush Mr. Maloney's hand. "JP has told me and my wife all about you." "All good things I hope, but I guess we'll find out once you invite me inside," Andrew said. "Yes you will, come on in Andrew," JP's mom said, ushering everyone into the house. She shook his hand once they were inside and added, "Welcome to the Maloney house Andrew." "Thank you Mrs. Maloney," Andrew said, taking off his boots. "You're welcome Andrew, but please call me Maureen," Mrs. Maloney ordered him. "And call me Paul," Mr. Maloney added. As everyone took off their shoes, Matt's mom stepped out from the living room. "This is Mrs. Anderson: Matt's mom," Maureen said, as Andrew and his friends stepped forward to shake her hand. "I'm very pleased to meet all of you," Mrs. Anderson said as they all stepped into the living room across from the kitchen. "So Andrew, JP tells me that you can bench-press more than 500 pounds," Paul said once they were all sitting down. "More like 700 pounds actually, but who's counting?" Andrew asked with a smug grin. His grin faded as he noticed everyone staring at him with a mix of awe and fear. "If you have enough weight plates in your basement gym, I'd be glad to demonstrate," he offered. "We should have enough plates downstairs," Paul assured him. "After all, JP here benches over 300 pounds," he added, smiling proudly at his son. "Let's go downstairs and find out." Andrew and his friends followed the Maloney's downstairs to the basement weight room: where Ryan and then JP had turned themselves into the gods of Central High School. While Mike and Carrie stared at all the machines and weights with astonishment, Andrew didn't seem surprised. "You don't seem surprised like your two friends to see an entire gym down here Andrew," Paul said. "I have one in my basement at home Sir and it looks a lot like this," Andrew informed him. "Call me Paul Andrew," Mr. Maloney advised him. "Because it's time for a rhyme Paul?" Andrew asked him with a smug grin. "Very funny Andrew!" Paul laughed, as JP added extra weight plates to the bench-press to bring it up to 700 pounds. "Twice as much as I bench but I'll get there one day," JP predicted. "First you have to win the State Championship JP," Paul reminded him with a frown. "Yes Dad, I will," JP assured him, putting the locking pins in place. "But before any of that happens, we have to see if Andrew can truly bench 700 pounds or if he was exaggerating." "Hey JP, don't talk about me like I'm not in the gym!" Andrew ordered him. He flexed his massive biceps with a cocky smirk and added, "Last time I checked, I was in the gym!" "There's no way anyone could miss you, considering how big and muscular you are!" JP assured him. "Let's see how effective these huge muscles are in the gym!" Andrew shouted in excitement, laying down on the bench. "Get your cameras ready everyone!" Andrew grabbed the loaded bar as JP lowered it into his hands. Then he lowered it to his chest and pushed it up fairly easily, causing his friends to look amazed at his awesome strength. Since JP was serving as his spotter, though he really didn't need one, Mike was free to capture Andrew's massive strength using the video mode on his digital camera. Mike, like everyone else, watched with amazement as Andrew benched 700 pounds easily, making it look almost effortless. Andrew raised the bar for the tenth and final rep, letting JP put it back on the brackets. "Good job Andrew," JP congratulated him. "How do you feel?" "It felt easier than it did last week," Andrew replied with a big grin. "I didn't even break a sweat this time. Do you have any more weight plates so that I can try again for my maximum of 800 pounds?" "No I don't Andrew," JP replied, his eyes wide with fear and amazement at Andrew's awesome strength. "Too bad JP," Andrew said, sitting up from the weight bench. "I guess I'll have to see if the gym at Ohio State has enough weight plates to challenge me." "Yes, when you take JP and Matt there," Paul said. He looked at his watch and added, "It's time we got dinner started, so we'll go upstairs now. Mike, you come upstairs with us so that you can email that video to the colleges you and Andrew will visit this week." "I'd like to stay down here with Andrew until dinner's ready," JP said. "I have something to show him that I think he'd like to see." Matt glanced over at JP as he headed upstairs and JP nodded, confirming that he was going to show Andrew The Wall. "See you upstairs later for dinner Andrew," Carrie said, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. Andrew bent down to meet her soft lips, kissing her softly. He folded his massive arms around her gently as he breathed in the fruity aroma of her perfume. "See you soon Carrie," he said, stroking her face softly as he drew back from her soft lips. JP grinned as he saw the gentle smile on Andrew's face as Carrie walked upstairs. "You really love her, don't you Andrew?" JP asked his huge friend. "Yeah man, in fact, I hope we get married before we go to college," Andrew replied. He turned to JP, saw him smiling, and realized that he was probably thinking of Matt. "Now JP, enough about me; what did you want to show me?" "What I call 'The Wall' Andrew," JP replied, leading him to a door in the far left corner of the basement. "I've only shown this to Matt, so I hope you realize how much I trust you that I'm letting you see it too." "I understand JP," Andrew assured him. "Let's see what this 'Wall' looks like," he added, as they stopped in front of the door. JP grinned and opened the door, turning on the light so that Andrew could see the contents of the room for himself. As Andrew looked around the back room, his eyes widened as he saw the pictures of JP's progress from a skinny kid to a muscular jock. "You look surprised Andrew," JP said with a smug grin. "Don't you have pictures of your progress at home?" "Just in a photo album, not all over two walls JP," Andrew said with a slight frown of disapproval. JP seemed to twitch at the words 'Photo Album' and Andrew noticed. "What is it Big Guy?" he asked softly. "I have something else to show you Andrew," JP replied. "Again, this is something I've shown only one other person: Matt." Andrew watched as JP walked over to a cabinet in the far corner of the back room. He opened a drawer and pulled out a photo album: the same one he had shown Matt after their visit with Matt's dad. "Are those more pictures of you JP?" Andrew asked with a big grin. "No Andrew, these are pictures of my brother," JP replied seriously. He opened the album and showed Andrew the pictures of his big brother Ryan: from when he was a fat kid in Grade Five to when he became a high school jock. "When Ryan was a fat kid he was always nice to me and I idolized him: following him around everywhere. He was the perfect big brother back then." "So what happened JP?" Andrew asked him gently, as they looked through more pages of the album. "As he got leaner and more muscular, he began to pull away from me, especially once high school started and he made the football team," JP replied. "Once he became a jock, he no longer had time for me." "Then who taught you how to work out when you got to high school?" Andrew asked with a confused look on his face. "Actually Ryan did, but only because I begged him to," JP replied sadly. "He didn't offer to do it; I had to bug him until he gave in. Then he told me that if I worked out a bit, perhaps even joined the wrestling team he was on, I wouldn't get picked on at school. You might not believe this Andrew, but I was barely 100 pounds two years ago." "I know, I can see the pictures JP," Andrew reminded him, pointing to the left side of the first wall. "Yeah that's true," JP realized. "Anyway, Ryan became my personal trainer and workout partner almost two years ago and he helped me become what I am today." "So what happened JP?" Andrew asked, figuring that they would soon get to the heart of the matter. "What happened between the two of you that turned you from workout partners into rivals?" "I really don't know Andrew," JP replied, looking down at his feet. "Are you sure JP?" Andrew asked him seriously, handing back the photo album. "You never gloated when you began to catch up to his size and strength? You never made fun of him when he got stuck on a weight-lifting plateau or put on a few pounds of fat?" JP's jaw dropped in astonishment at Andrew's insight but then his face fell as the full impact of his big friend's words hit him. "Oh no," he whispered, sitting down on the bench with his chin in his hands. "It's all my fault Andrew: I pushed Ryan away by doing everything you described during my last workout with him three months ago! Instead of encouraging him when he got stuck at 325 on the bench-press for three months, I gloated that I was only a few dozen pounds behind him. I rubbed my success in his face instead of thanking him for helping me get to where I am today!" "I'm afraid so JP, but you're not the only one to make those mistakes," Andrew assured him. "I did the same thing with Steve almost seven years ago, even though he never trained me. I certainly didn't think about our friendship when I gloated about suddenly being bigger and stronger than he was when we started Grade Five!" "You were only ten years old Andrew; you probably didn't know any better," JP assured him. "But I on the other hand was already 16 years old three months ago and I still made fun of Ryan!" "Don't feel too bad JP; at least you still spent time with him all these years," Andrew reminded him. JP's face brightened with a small smile as he realized that Andrew was right. "I, on the other hand, completely neglected Steve the summer before Grade Five, even though we had been best friends since Nursery School! And then to make matters worse, once I got bigger than he was, I just gloated about it instead of helping him get as big and strong as I was! I also spent more time with my new protege Mike instead of Steve and then our friendship ended in a big shouting match that Christmas." "And how did you regain your friendship with Steve?" JP asked, hoping that he could get an idea on how to repair his relationship with Ryan. But his hopes were dashed when Andrew replied, "I never did repair my friendship with Steve JP or he would be here with us right now. Instead, I've spent the last seven years being his rival on the football field, even though we're on the Offensive Line together!" He noticed the look of defeat in JP's eyes and suddenly thought of something that could cheer him up. "But you have a couple things going for you that I never had JP." "What's that Andrew?" JP asked, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes. "You and Ryan are brothers," Andrew replied, as JP put the album back in the cabinet drawer and closed it. "And as you said, you last worked out together only three months ago, which means that you continued spending time with Ryan even when he didn't want to." "That's three things Andrew," JP teased him, ushering him out of the back room. As he closed the door, he gave Andrew a cocky smirk and added, "I thought a smart guy like you would know how to count!" "Very funny JP!" Andrew laughed, as he followed his smaller friend across the gym to the bench-press. "The point I'm trying to make is: you didn't give up on your relationship with Ryan like I did with Steve. I know Ryan's away right now on his pre-college road trip, but when he gets back, you should try to fix your relationship with him before it's too late." "It's already too late Andrew!" JP snapped in exasperation. "Ryan ran off on his road trip without saying goodbye to me or our dad! We don't even know if he'll be back for Thanksgiving, which is four and a half months away here in America! He'll probably have forgotten about me by then! And if you haven't fixed your friendship with Steve, what makes you think I can fix my relationship with Ryan?" "It's only been there months since you last spent time together, not seven years like it has been with me and Steve," Andrew reminded him, trying to keep his smaller friend calm. "Also, don't forget that he's your brother JP. Family ties don't usually get broken; they just get frayed. I have confidence in you JP; you're not the quitting type. You know, the next time Ryan is home for a while, perhaps during Christmas Break, I should come down here so that I can see both of you. Maybe if Ryan sees our brotherly relationship, it will inspire him to regain what he's lost by turning away from you." "Or he'll figure that he's been replaced and resent me even more," JP huffed, feeling worse not better. "I guess I'm not the best example on this matter JP; I can't even follow my own advice!" Andrew finally realized. JP nodded in agreement, wondering when his big friend would stop talking about Ryan. "After all, I've never had a brother and I haven't shown any willingness over the past seven years to patch things up with Steve. I just replaced him with my first protege Mike Stevenson: the guy for whom I originally neglected him! I think when I get home this summer, I'll try, somehow, to make up with Steve. After all, we'll only have one last year of high school together and then we may never see each other again! I can only hope that you try to repair your relationship with Ryan when you see him again. I would hate for you to have to live with the regret of a failed relationship for seven years like I've had to do." "Sure Andrew, whatever you say," JP said dismissively, getting really tired of being lectured by his huge friend. "And maybe Hell will freeze over while I wait for Ryan to become my Big Brother again!" "You'll have to make it happen JP; you can't wait for it," Andrew advised him, trying not to get mad at JP's impatience. "Once you're as big as he is, he won't be able to ignore you anymore! He'll have to talk to you then and maybe he'll be proud of you for a change instead of jealous!" "You're right Andrew," JP realized, relieved that his huge muscular friend wasn't mad at him. "I'll try to fix our relationship the next time I see him, if he gives me the chance that is!" "That's all I can ask JP, but remember: you don't have to do all the work," Andrew suddenly realized. "Ryan has to want to be your Big Brother again or you'll never regain your relationship with him. I only hope it doesn't take something happening to one of you for the other to realize just how important you are to each other." Andrew had no idea how prophetic that statement was, but he did realize that he was scaring JP when he saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes. "Sorry for scaring you like that JP; I guess I'm not doing a very good job of cheering you up, am I?" "No you're not Andrew," JP replied: both truthfully and bravely considering how huge and muscular his big friend truly was. Andrew glared at him and JP hastily added, "But I guess you can't be good at everything, can you Big Guy?" Before Andrew could reply, the basement door opened and JP's dad started down the basement steps. "Dinner's ready you two," he said. "Come upstairs and get washed up." As Andrew and JP followed him up the basement steps, he asked, "What were you two talking about down here? It sounded rather heated." "We were talking about Ryan," JP replied through gritted teeth as he clenched his fists in fury. "I can't believe that he didn't even say goodbye to us before he left!" "Neither can your mother and I," Paul agreed. Then he added, "But I guess we shouldn't be surprised; he's barely acknowledged us during the last four years!" "I'm here Mr. Maloney," Andrew said quickly, hoping to head off another rant about Ryan. "I'd be glad to fill the 'big brother' role for JP." "Thank you Andrew," Paul said gratefully. "That's exactly why we're trusting you to take good care of JP during your upcoming Mid-West Recruiting Visits." He noticed JP glaring at him and hastily added, "Not that JP needs to be taken care of; he proved that last night when he took care of that jerk who was bugging Chrissy!" JP grinned proudly and then his father's previous sentence penetrated his consciousness. He turned from the sink, where he was washing his hands, and asked his dad excitedly, "Did you say that Andrew will be taking care of me during the recruiting visits?" His dad nodded with a small grin. "You mean I can go with my new friend Andrew on his road trip?" "Yes JP, but first clean up the water you splashed on the floor in your excitement," Paul ordered him with a chuckle. JP's face turned red with embarrassment as he grinned sheepishly and grabbed some paper towels. Paul turned back to Andrew and said, "I'm placing a lot of trust in you Andrew: to keep JP safe during this road trip. Can you do that for me?" "For us Paul," Maureen corrected him with a frown. "JP's our son, not just yours." "Of course dear," Paul said hastily. "I didn't mean to forget about you: I just misspoke." "Okay Paul," Maureen said. She handed him some plates and added, "You can make it up to me by setting the table." "I'll help him Mom," JP offered, anxious to spend some time with Matt. "Good idea son, that will give me a chance to talk privately with Andrew for a couple of minutes," Maureen decided. Andrew looked surprised, but he stayed quiet while JP and his dad left the kitchen with the plates and cutlery. Then he turned to JP's mom and asked her, "What did you want to talk about Mrs Maloney?" "Call me Maureen Andrew," Mrs Maloney said. Andrew nodded and Mrs Maloney continued by saying, "I just want you to know how much Paul and I appreciate you being there for JP." "Especially since Ryan hasn't been," Andrew interjected. "JP told me all about that downstairs while you guys were cooking dinner." "Yes Andrew, Ryan hasn't been there for his brother like you have, both last night and today. JP told me at lunch all that you talked about last night and how similar you two are, considering all that you've both gone through over the last few years." "Yes I was surprised myself at how similar we are," Andrew agreed. "But I'm glad to help JP get a head start on his college wrestling hopes by taking him with me to Ohio State." "I have complete confidence in your ability to look after JP on these upcoming Unofficial Recruiting Visits of yours," Maureen informed him proudly. "Thank you very much Mrs Maloney," Andrew said gratefully. "I'll make sure to justify your faith in me by keeping JP safe. But from what I saw last night, JP doesn't need protection from anyone!" "Yes, being a District Finalist in wrestling does have its advantages when dealing with college guys on the prowl," Maureen agreed. "Have you ever had to use force to scare people away from Carrie?" "Only the force of my voice," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "One of the advantages of being huge and insanely strong is that anyone who wants to start trouble is scared away with just a look!" "Good for you Andrew; now that you are in the middle of college football recruiting, any fighting you're involved in could derail that entire train ride!" "Thanks for that insight Mrs Maloney," Andrew said, as the oven timer went off. As she took the food out of the oven, he added, "I find it very gratifying to be a big brother for JP, just like I did in previous years for my football proteges, who are now my teammates." "That's good to hear Andrew," Maureen said, setting the food on the large breadboard. "I'm glad you've had a lot of practice being a mentor. Now let's go into the dining room for dinner; everyone's waiting for us." Andrew nodded and helped her bring the food into the dining room. Then they sat down at the table, where everyone else was already seated. They said grace and began eating. "So Andrew, have you and your friends mapped out a travel plan for your NCAA Road Trip?" Mr Maloney asked. "Yes Sir," Andrew replied. "I have the map book in my truck; I can show it to you after supper." "Good idea Andrew, because if you're taking the route I'm thinking of, I have another idea." "I can remember the route Sir," Andrew said. "It will take us to Ohio State, Notre Dame, and Michigan." "That confirms that my idea will work, but I'll tell you what it is after supper when we look at your map book," Mr Maloney decided. Andrew nodded in agreement and Paul added, "So Andrew, do you realize what an amazing coincidence it was that you and JP were in the National Mall at the same time last night?" "Yes Sir I do," Andrew agreed. "But I also realize that this was the only summer I could do it. Last summer I was Basic Reserves Training and next summer I will be preparing for my freshman season of college football. But I must say, when I saw JP on the train, I knew that I recognized him from somewhere. Then once my friends and I got back from our tour of the National Mall, we used his bright blue tank top as a reference point to find our spot on the lawn again. Then I remembered where I had seen him before: on the front page of the sports section of the Washington Post." He noticed JP's friends and family smiling with pride at the memory of the day JP had been interviewed. "I was trying to figure out how to introduce myself to your son when those two big college guys started bugging Chrissy. I was about to intervene to protect her, but JP got there first and helped her out. Then I was able to introduce myself to him, once he noticed me of course." "You're impossible to miss Andrew," Paul said proudly, referencing Andrew's huge muscles. Andrew smiled quietly as Paul added, "JP told me all about how you were ready to help Chrissy before he got there." He thought for a moment and then said, "I might as well tell you my idea now, while you get yourself a second helping." "What do you mean Sir?" Andrew asked innocently, after he swallowed his last mouthful of food. "You cleaned your plate Andrew and so did Mike," Paul replied with a big grin. "Raise your hand if you want seconds." "How about I flex my arm instead," Andrew decided. He flexed his massive arm with a cocky smirk and added, "Both my huge arms need lots of fuel to get even bigger!" Everyone around the table laughed at Andrew's cocky attitude, which reminded them that he was a jock, not just an athlete. "I think your ego is just as big as your arms Andrew," JP teased his huge friend. Andrew grinned at his smaller friend and then realized he'd better get the conversation back on track. "What was your idea Mr Maloney?" he asked, as he got himself a second helping. "Call me Paul Andrew; I told you that when you first got here," Paul said. He waited for Andrew to nod in agreement and then added, "Ann Arbor is a lot closer to Orillia than it is to Washington DC." "Yes it is Paul," Andrew agreed, grinning as he guessed where JP's dad was going with this. "Good, then since we've hosted you tonight, how about you and your family return the favour once your Unofficial Visits are complete?" "Are you serious Dad?" JP shouted in excitement before Andrew could reply. "I get to meet Andrew's family and friends and perhaps see where he has achieved glory on the gridiron?" "If Andrew and his parents agree," Paul reminded him. He looked over at Andrew, who nodded in agreement. "Good, then all we need to do is get your parents on Skype after dinner and ask them." He looked over at Andrew and asked, "Are they home?" "Yes Paul; they're making plans for me to visit some Canadian football schools," Andrew replied. "Good, then it's all settled," Paul decided. "Let's finish our dinner and then we can Skype your parents and see if they're on board with my idea." Everyone nodded in agreement and followed his suggestion. Then, after dinner, Andrew used his laptop to get his dad on Skype so that he could introduce his parents to his new friend JP Maloney and his family. "Hey Dad," Andrew said once Chad's face appeared on the screen. "Hello son," Chad said, grinning at his son. "How is your Washington trip going?" "It's going quite well Dad," Andrew replied. "In fact, I met some new friends and their parents." He took a few minutes to tell his dad about the events of the previous evening and that afternoon. "What do you think Dad?" "I think you've made a great new friend," Chad said with a proud smile on his face. "But you forgot to tell me his name." "I didn't forget, I held back his name deliberately," Andrew informed him with a smug grin. He motioned JP to step into view of the laptop screen and added, "I think you'll recognize him." JP stepped in front of the laptop screen as Andrew stepped back. Chad's smile widened as he said, "You're JP Maloney!" "Yes I am Sir," JP said, surprised that Andrew's dad recognized him. "How did you recognize me?" "I took a business trip down there last week and I noticed your article in the sports section of the Washington Post," Chad replied. "It was the part about you starting a middle school wrestling camp that caught my eye actually." "Why was that Sir?" JP asked, not noticing Andrew stepping into the living room to speak with JP's parents. "Andrew has been a mentor himself: his first mentor was Mike actually," Chad informed him. "Then he mentored Mike's older brother Mark. The next year, he mentored the current Starting Quarterback and Wide Receiver on the OD Varsity Football Team. You stick with Andrew and he'll show you how to be a good mentor for your future protege Nick." "I will Sir," JP promised him. "You don't have to call me Sir, JP," Chad informed him. "Okay Mr Pearson," JP said agreeably. "That will do for now," Chad said. "Now, did Andrew call me on Skype just to introduce you to me or did he have another reason?" "There is another reason, but I should let Andrew tell you what it is, after you meet my parents of course." JP motioned his mom and dad over to Andrew's laptop and they introduced themselves to Andrew's dad and mom. "My parents had an idea Mr Pearson," JP said. "I'll just get Andrew so that he can hear it too." JP went into the living room to get Andrew while Paul and Maureen talked for a bit with Chad. "Your son is a really great young man Chad," Maureen said. "He has really taken JP under his wing in the absence of JP's older brother Ryan." "Yes I know that very well and he has been a great young man for many years," Chad agreed proudly. "Did Andrew tell you how he has mentored a few of his friends over the years and helped them become football players?" "Yes I believe he mentioned that," Paul said. He looked up and noticed Andrew and JP coming back into the den. "Explain your idea to your dad Andrew." "Actually it was your idea Sir," Andrew reminded him with a smug grin. "You're right, it was Andrew," Paul realized. "Okay Mr Pearson, here's my idea: since Andrew's last recruiting visit is near Detroit, he could go right to Orillia from there with JP." "So that we can host you and your family in return for you hosting our son right now," Chad realized. He turned to his wife Susan and asked, "What do you think dear?" "That sounds like a good idea," Susan agreed. "We have lots of room if you count the guest room and the pullout couches." "Good then it's all settled," Paul decided. "We'll keep in touch so that you can let us know when Andrew leaves Ann Arbor. Then my wife and I will start the journey to Orillia, which we will be able to reach in one day from here. Then we can all meet at your house." "That sounds good to me," Chad said. "See you all in a few days. Be sure to call me once you've crossed the border Andrew." "I will Dad," Andrew promised, waving goodbye to Chad. "See you later." "Goodbye son: enjoy your recruiting visits," Chad said. Once the Skype connection had been broken, Paul turned to Andrew and said, "There now, it's all settled Andrew: once you and JP cross the border into Canada, he can call us so that we can start our journey to meet you in Orillia the next day." "Would a text message be more convenient Sir?" Andrew asked. "That way, JP won't get any international calling charges on his phone bill and neither will you." "That's a very good idea Andrew," Paul commended him. "Thank you for suggesting it." He turned to JP and said, "Now how about you and Matt take Andrew and his friends over to the high school so that he can see the football field and the wrestling room." "Good idea Dad," JP agreed. "But how will we get into the wrestling room? I don't have a key." "But Coach Graves does and he'll be expecting you," Paul informed him. "Once you told us about Andrew during lunch, I knew that it would be a good idea to show him where you have achieved glory on the wrestling mat. So I called Coach Graves and told him my idea. Since he had some work to do for August's Wrestling Camp, he said that he would bring it to his office in the high school after supper. I told him you would meet him there at 7:30." "Okay Dad, I'll go get ready now," JP said, heading for the stairs. "Good idea JP," Paul agreed. "Your mom and I will stay down here to entertain your guests." "Thanks Dad, since I can't do that all the time!" JP joked, heading upstairs. "Don't forget your wrestling jacket JP!" Andrew shouted. JP grinned and nodded, pleased that Andrew had thought of everything. As JP turned the corner out of sight, Maureen turned to Andrew and asked, "Why did you tell JP to bring his jacket? It's really hot outside." "It was my idea to help raise his profile for the recruiting visits," Andrew replied. "It makes sense for him to make sure it still fits. He's pretty muscular you know." "That's an understatement Andrew, especially when referring to you," Mrs Anderson said with raised eyebrows. "Thank you Mrs Anderson," Andrew said. "But I think I should get my jacket out of my truck to make sure it fits. I'll be right back." Andrew headed outside to his car and JP's parents took that opportunity to get their digital camera. Once Andrew came back inside with his football jacket on, he found his friends and their parents waiting for him in the living room. "What's going on here?" Andrew asked with a smile. "Just a group shot before you go, now that both you and JP have your jackets on," Paul replied, holding up his digital camera. "You mean all three of us," Andrew said with a cocky grin, as he held up Mike's football jacket. Paul grinned at Andrew's cocky attitude as Mike put on his football jacket. Then Paul set the timer on the camera, placed it on the mantle, and stepped back so that he would be in the picture with everyone else. Everyone grinned as the camera flashed and then stepped up to the mantle to see what the photo looked like on the screen. Once everyone had voiced their approval of the group picture, JP said, "We'd better get going Dad, so Matt and I can show Andrew and his friends the high school wrestling room." "Actually JP, you and Andrew go ahead," Matt said. JP turned to look at him in surprise and Matt added, "I want to stay here with Mike and Carrie." Andrew turned around to see Mike and Carrie nodding in agreement. Mike saw his look of astonishment and said, "Don't look so shocked Andrew: you must realize that the dynamics of this friendship were set last night when you spent half an hour alone with JP." Andrew nodded in sudden understanding and Paul said, "Besides Andrew, while you and JP are talking with Coach Graves, I can show your friends JP's wrestling videos." JP looked suddenly embarrassed, hoping that his dad wouldn't show the footage of the District Final match that JP had lost four months before. Paul noticed his son's sad look and decided to cheer him up. "If you lend me your digital camera son, I can upload the video you took last night of Andrew to YouTube." JP handed over his camera and grinned at the thought of helping raise Andrew's profile for the NCAA. He watched as Andrew slapped Mike on the back and hugged Carrie goodbye. "I'm ready to go now JP," Andrew said as JP opened the front door. "Good, so am I Andrew, so let's go," JP said, heading outside. Andrew waved goodbye to JP's parents and Matt's mom, before following his friend outside to the driveway. "Should we take your car or my truck?" Andrew asked once he reached the driveway where JP was waiting. "We should take your truck Andrew, it looks cooler," JP replied. "Especially when I turn on the under lights," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. "You must be a fan of the Fast and Furious movies," JP realized. "Especially 2Fast 2Furious," Andrew said with a big grin as they got into his truck. "Because it takes place in Miami right?" JP guessed. "Gee, someone's a genius, as far as stating the obvious!" Andrew laughed as they backed out of the driveway. "Shut up man!" JP laughed as they drove down the street. "Just try and make me JP, if you've got the guts that is!" Andrew dared him with a cocky smirk. Andrew and JP continued laughing and joking as they drove to Central High School, enjoying the freedom to act like jocks without worrying what their friends thought. Meanwhile, back at JP's house, Andrew's friends and JP's parents said goodbye to Matt's mom, who was heading home. Matt promised her that he would stop by to say goodbye the next morning, since JP's parents had granted permission for him to stay over. "After all Matt, Andrew only knows the way to this house, not your house," JP's mom reminded him. "That's why your mom brought an overnight bag for you when she came over for dinner." Matt's mom didn't reveal the real reason she was letting Matt stay over at JP's house that night: she needed some space from her son after the bombshell he had dropped on her that morning. Andrew and JP soon reached the high school and parked by the gate in the fence surrounding the football field. The school below in Fairfax County is probably what the author of the JP stories based Central High School on. And of course the team name in the JP Story is the Spartans, not the Wildcats. "Are you ready to go inside Andrew?"JP asked as he got out of the truck. "As soon as I get something," Andrew replied. He got out and opened up his truck's tailgate. Then he reached into his gym bag and pulled out his old Miami Hurricanes football. Then he closed the tailgate. "See JP, just a little accessory to complete my jock image." "You mean your Super Jock image Andrew," JP corrected him with a smug grin. "Your words JP and I agree with them," Andrew said with a big grin. "Let's go into the school and meet your wrestling coach. Then you can show me the wrestling room where you have achieved athletic glory on the wrestling mat." JP grinned back at his huge friend and led the way into the school for the chat with Coach Graves. As Andrew followed him down the hall to the wrestling room, JP smiled to himself as he realized that he would be mentoring a dozen kids there in wrestling in about six weeks time. "What do you think Andrew?" JP asked as they stepped into the wrestling room. "Most impressive JP," Andrew replied, looking around at all the pictures and newspaper articles on the wall. His eyes widened as he realized that most of the pictures and articles were of JP. "Someone's certainly popular in this school," he remarked, making the understatement of the year. "He should be, he's the first District Finalist we've had in over a decade," a deep voice said from behind them. Andrew and JP turned around to see a burly man in his 40s walking towards them. "I'm Coach Graves: the Head Coach of the District Finalist Central High Spartans Varsity Wrestling Team." "Pleased to meet you Coach," Andrew said, holding out his right hand. Coach Graves shook it firmly, only wincing a little bit from the strength of Andrew's iron grip. "I'm Andrew Pearson: Starting Center for the District Champion ODCVI Blues Varsity Football Team." "District Champion sounds a lot more impressive than District Finalist," Coach Graves realized, causing JP to look down at his feet in shame. Graves noticed and quickly apologized to his Star Wrestler. "Sorry about that JP, but it's true. You're good, but obviously not as good as Andrew here." "I'll do better this season Coach," JP promised with a scary look of determination on his face. "This time I won't just win the District Title but I'll be the State Champion as well!" "I'm sure you will JP," Graves agreed, pleased at how determined his Star Wrestler was to succeed. His cell phone suddenly rang from his shirt pocket. "Sorry guys, but I have to take this call: I've been expecting it." He took out his flip phone opened it up, pressed the green phone button to accept the call and listened intently. "Okay, I'll send him right out." He ended the call and turned to Andrew. "There's someone important waiting for you on the 50 yard line of the football field Andrew." "Okay Coach, I'll head out there now and then I'll meet you and JP back in here," Andrew decided. "We'll meet you out there Andrew," Graves said. "JP and I have a few things to work on for the Lincoln Middle School Wrestling Camp in six weeks." Andrew nodded in agreement and waved to JP as he headed out of the wrestling room. As he walked down the hall towards the stairs, he wondered who could be waiting for him in the middle of the football field: which he could see from the second floor window. Once Andrew exited the building and skirted the stands, he saw a big man in his 40s standing in the middle of the field. As he got closer, he noticed that the big guy was wearing a Central High Spartans Football t-shirt. "Hello Andrew, I'm Coach Palmer: the Head Coach of the Central High Spartans Varsity Football Team." "Pleased to meet you Coach," Andrew said excitedly, shaking his hand firmly. He noticed Coach Palmer massaging his sore hand and smirked as he added, "As you already know, I'm Andrew Pearson: Starting Center for the Orillia District Varsity Football Team." "I'm very pleased to meet you Andrew and there's someone else who would like to meet you: over the phone anyway." He picked up his cell phone and sent a quick text message that consisted of only two words: 'He's here.' "Who did you just send that text message to Coach?" Andrew asked curiously. "You'll find out in about 30 seconds Andrew," Coach Palmer promised him. Sure enough, within 30 seconds, his cell phone rang. "Hello, is that you?" he asked. He listened closely to the answer and nodded his head in satisfaction. "Good, thanks for calling back so quickly." He listened a bit more and added, "Sure I'll let you speak to him, since that is the reason I wanted you to call me in the first place. Just a second." He handed his cell phone to Andrew and said, "It's for you." "Thanks Coach," Andrew said, taking the cell phone and holding it up to his ear. "Hello?" "Are you Andrew Pearson?" a deep and confident voice asked from the other end of the line. "Yes I am," Andrew replied, feeling a little uneasy that the mystery caller knew his name. "Who is this?" "This is Ryan Maloney," the caller replied. ********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************* And that, after two months, is the end of Andrew's Recruiting Summer Chapter 4. Please let me know what you thought of my first attempt at a cliffhanger ending. ********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************* Coming soon: - Andrew finds out why JP's older brother called him - Andrew takes JP and Matt on his Ohio State Recruiting Visit.
  2. This story came about from an idea I had a month ago, after re-reading my favourite story on this forum, which was archived from the old forum. The conversation I had with the author, where he gave me permission to use parts of his story in mine, can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/index.php?app=members&module=messaging&section=view&do=showConversation&topicID=23174&st=0#msg108559 I separated my parts of the story from the author's parts with a line of equal signs: ================== ANDREW'S RECRUITING SUMMER CHAPTER 1: ANDREW MAKES A NEW FRIEND IN WASHINGTON, D.C. Andrew, Carrie and Mike, after spending Canada Day 2005 in Orillia with their parents, headed down to Washington, DC to spend Independence Day at the National Mall. They took Highway 11 south from Orillia to Barrie, where they took Highway 400 down to Toronto. Then they took the 427 to the QEW and headed around the western edge of Lake Ontario to Fort Erie. There, they crossed the border into Buffalo, New York and took US Highway 219 south to Dubois, Pennsylvania. They then turned east onto Interstate 80 and took it to US Hwy 15. They took that highway south to Harrisburg, the State Capitol of Pennsylvania, at the junction of Interstates 81 and 83. They spent the night at a hotel in that city. On July 3rd, Andrew and his friends took a scenic route into Washington DC, taking I-81 down to Hagerstown, Maryland, where they stopped at Borders Bookstore. Then they took I-81 southwest from Hagerstown Maryland into West Virginia, where they stopped at the State Welcome Center and had lunch at the BBQ that was going on. After lunch, they took I-81 further south into Virginia, and turned east onto US Hwy 50 just south of Winchester. They took that highway right into Fairfax, where they stopped at the Fairfax Towne Center and had supper at Five Guys Burgers and Fries. Then they proceeded to their hotel: the Comfort Inn Pentagon City in Arlington, Virginia. Once they had checked in, Andrew, Mike and Carrie jogged to the National Mall in Washington DC, to plot out their route for the morning of July 4th. Late the next morning, on Independence Day, Andrew, Carrie and Mike woke up in their hotel rooms, ready for their 90 minute walk to the National Mall. "I'm glad we scouted out the route last night while jogging," Mike said to Andrew, as they had a late breakfast after showering and getting dressed. "Yeah man," Andrew agreed. "It only took us about half an hour to jog there, but today we'll walk, since there will be so many people heading there." "Good thing we're leaving your truck at the hotel," Carrie said. "The traffic in the National Mall today (July 4th) would be at a standstill for hours. Not to mention that we would never be able to find a parking space." "That's why I picked this hotel Carrie," Andrew reminded her with a smug grin. "It's within walking distance of the National Mall." "Well that was fine for last night Andrew, but maybe we should take the train today," Carrie suggested. "Good idea Carrie," Andrew agreed. "I scouted out a few Metro Stations during our run last night and I believe the Pentagon City Station should serve our needs nicely." http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/dc/DC_Metro_Map_2013.svg/2000px-DC_Metro_Map_2013.svg.png "You're right Andrew," Mike agreed, looking at the Metro Map and the street map side by side. "We can walk northeast on Army-Navy Drive until we get to the Pentagon Row Shopping Center and the Metro Station is right there." https://www.google.ca/maps/place/Comfort+Inn+Pentagon+City/@38.8576678,-77.0593496,14z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x89b7b14a8fdfabd5:0x30a73c112191b664 So after breakfast the three teens began walking towards the National Mall, making sure to take a picture of the Air Force Memorial along the way. ==================================================================================================================================================== “Will we have to switch to the yellow line at the Pentagon station to get to L’Enfant Plaza?” I asked as we pulled into the parking garage of the Franconia-Springfield Metro Station. “I don’t think so,” JP answered from the driver’s seat, turning toward Chrissy who was sitting next to him. “Chrissy, didn’t they change the lines around to direct crowds better?” She didn’t answer, staring at JP’s body, totally enraptured by his newest brawn. “Chrissy?” “Huh, what?” she said, suddenly coming out of the daze. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” He smiled warmly, causing her face to turn a crimson red. It was the Fourth of July and we were headed into DC to see the fireworks on the National Mall. Chrissy had nearly wet her pants at the sight of JP when we arrived to pick her up. At 174 pounds – probably 175 by now – of pure muscle, he was starting to look like a god. His light blue tank-top beautifully accentuated his chiseled shoulders and arms, the color brought out the bright blue in his eyes. He looked…well, perfect. We walked across the bridge into the station, bought our tickets and hopped aboard the train. Immediately, JP began attracting stares from other passengers, their eyes filled with awe. They couldn’t quite believe that a kid his age could be so phenomenally built. They marveled at how his strong, wide neck supported his flawless face, how the straps of the tank-top draped over his gracefully curved traps, how his thick shoulders and arms bulged with muscle upon muscle and were covered with writhing veins, how his lats flared out making the difference between his broad shoulders and tiny waist that much more impressive. And his butt…man, JP’s ass was beyond gorgeous, its perfect bubble shape provocatively filling the seat of his shorts. I, myself, couldn’t keep from watching my boyfriend’s muscular arms jump and flex efficiently while holding onto the pole of the Metro car, his shoulders and lats shifting silently underneath his thin skin as we hurtled smoothly through the suburbs. ===================================================================================================================================================== Within half an hour, Andrew, Carrie and Mike had arrived at the Pentagon City Metro Station. They bought their tickets and stepped aboard the train, which would take them to the L’Enfant Plaza Station just south of the National Mall. ===================================================================================================================================================== "Oh my god," JP said softly, so that only I could hear him. "What is it?" I asked him, following his startled gaze over to the open train doors. My eyes widened as the two biggest guys I had ever seen in my life stepped onto the train. "Those guys are so big they make your brother look like a midget," I whispered in fear. JP glared at me, which reminded me that he was still smaller than his brother. "Sorry JP, I didn't mean it like it sounded." "That's okay Matt," JP assured me, the anger fading from his eyes. A look of fear, which I had rarely seen before, showed up in his eyes. "I never thought I would be scared of any guy now that I'm such a good wrestler, but even I wouldn't be able to take on those muscular brutes," he whispered so that Chrissy couldn't hear. The slightly bigger guy, who had red hair and must have been six and a half feet tall, seemed to hear JP and looked towards him. The huge guy smiled and nodded at JP and after a few seconds of hesitation JP nodded back bravely. "Good job JP," I whispered. "I would've been too scared to make eye contact with such a big guy." JP smiled and I was relieved to see that the fear in his eyes had been replaced with his usual confidence. ===================================================================================================================================================== "Good job Andrew," Carrie commended him. "You scared that guy in the light blue tank top at first, but once you nodded at him, it seemed to put him at ease." "That was my intent Carrie," Andrew informed her. "I know a fellow athlete when I see one and even though he's a lot smaller than I am, I think I want to get to know him better. He looks familiar; once I remember where I've seen him before, I'll introduce myself." "I'm sure you'll get the chance once we're at the National Mall Andrew," Carrie assured him. "I think that everyone on this train is going to get off at the L’Enfant Plaza Station." ====================================================================================================================================================== The three of us heedlessly joked around the whole time and before we knew it, we were coming up the escalator to ground level. As soon as we had picked our spot smack dab in the middle of the National Mall – between the Hirshhorn Museum and the National Archives – JP opened up his backpack and pulled out his beloved Navy Frisbee. “We should get a little game in before it gets too crowded,” he suggested, beginning to pull off his tank-top. Chrissy let out an audible gasp as she saw his bare torso. My heart did a flip, like it always did when he would strip off his shirt. “God, you’re getting to be such a hunk,” she gushed, eyeing his massive chest, “you’re gonna be turning straight guys gay soon.” I burst out laughing, practically choking on my own spit. Chrissy quickly looked over at me. “What?” I couldn’t answer her, I was in such hysterics. JP smiled enchantedly and peered over at me. A chill went down my back. “You should see Matt’s body now, Chrissy,” he commented. “He’s getting bigger, too. Take off your shirt, Matt!” Chrissy looked in my direction with aroused eyes. I bit my lip and acquiesced to my boyfriend’s bidding – how could I not? I not-so-expertly wrestled my T-shirt over my head and threw it on top of JP’s backpack. “Wow!” Chrissy exclaimed. “You look amazing!” She sighed, passing her eyes between JP and me. I could tell that she was in heaven, being sandwiched between the two of us. “I can’t believe I’m hanging out with the two most gorgeous guys in the world,” she said, coming toward me and gently laying her hands on my abs. She raised her head and gazed into my eyes. “Matt,” Chrissy whispered, “I never realized until now how hot you are.” Her hands slid up to my chest, brushing against my nipples. Was she coming on to me? “I’ve been working out a bit,” I admitted, shrugging. Although I was still nothing compared to JP’s body, I had managed some modest gains myself. At 155 pounds – a full 10 pounds heavier than I was during crew season – I was in the best shape of my life. My body fat had dropped to just below 10%, so I knew that all of that new weight was muscle. My chest was developing pecs, my arms were gradually growing thicker and my six-pack – my most prized possession – was getting well-defined. “You gonna play Frisbee with us, Chrissy, or are you just gonna stare at Matt?” JP taunted, smiling brightly. Chrissy blushed and took off her own T-shirt, revealing a white tube-top underneath that clung tightly to her firm breasts. The girl was incredibly hot herself and I know that if I had been straight, I would’ve been completely boned right at that moment. She had an incredibly fit body – curves in all the right places – so you could imagine the looks we got from people, girls and guys. Of course, one look at JP and none of the other guys dared approach Chrissy, assuming that he was her boyfriend and that they would have to go through him first. Little did they know how lucky they might have been if they had tried. ====================================================================================================================================================== Once Andrew and his friends arrived in the middle of the National Mall, between the Hirshhorn Museum and the National Archives, Andrew opened up his backpack and took out his Miami Hurricanes football. "Are you ready for some football Mike?" he asked his teammate. "Yeah Andrew; I'm always ready," Mike assured him. "But do you think it would be a good idea to get a few pictures of the US Capitol Building and the White House before it gets dark in a couple of hours?" "Let's throw the football around for a while first," Andrew decided. "Then we can see those two buildings and get back to our spot on the lawn here by dusk." So for the next hour, Andrew and Mike threw the Miami football back and forth, making sure to take off their t-shirts to show off their massive muscles. As crowds of people began to fill the National Mall in preparation for the fireworks that evening, Andrew and Mike began to draw stares of awe and fear from the people around them. Andrew also noticed the brown haired guy from the train staring at him with a mixture of awe and envy. Andrew grinned at the guy, who bravely nodded back, before he had to dive to catch the Navy Frisbee his smaller friend threw him. ====================================================================================================================================================== For the next couple of hours, we tossed the Frisbee around in fun – no one bothered keeping score. Chrissy and I both admired JP’s athleticism, despite his dense musculature. No matter how far or in what direction I threw the Frisbee, he never failed to catch it, often making spectacular dives to do so. He was just so fast and agile. He was so strong and beautiful. He was a superjock. ===================================================================================================================================================== An hour after they had started throwing the football around, Andrew said to Mike, "I think we've thrown the football around long enough. It's time to go get our pictures of the Capitol Building and the White House before it gets dark. Then we'll get back to our spot here by sunset, about half an hour before the fireworks start." "How will we find our spot once this area is completely filled with people Andrew?" Carrie asked, as Mike put the football in the bag. "We'll look for the guy on our left who's been throwing the Navy Frisbee around with his friend; he's impossible to miss," Andrew informed her. "Especially since he's had his tank-top off for the past hour," Carrie reminded him with a sexy grin. "Careful Carrie; you only have one boyfriend and that's me!" Andrew shouted, flexing his massive biceps. "Whatever you say Andrew," Carrie chuckled as Mike stood up wearing Andrew's backpack. "It looks like we're ready to go." "Yes we are Carrie," Andrew said, looking over to his left and smirking. Carrie followed his gaze and saw the well-muscled guy holding the Navy Frisbee staring at Andrew. Then the guy turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring, and threw the frisbee to his friend. "Has that guy been staring at us for the past hour Andrew?" "Yeah, ever since Mike and I took our shirts off Carrie," Andrew replied, as they started walking towards the Capitol Building. "You've enjoyed shocking him with your huge muscles over the past hour, haven't you Andrew?" Carrie suddenly realized. "Yeah I have Carrie," Andrew replied. "I have been impressed, however, with how quickly he's regained his composure and bravely nodded back at me every time I've nodded at him. Hopefully, by the time we get back to our spot, I'll have remembered where I've seen his picture. Then I can introduce myself to him." "I'm going to take a picture looking back towards our spot on the lawn so that we can find our way back," Mike said. "Good idea Mike," Andrew agreed, as they crossed the street. The three friends turned around to look back towards the Washington Monument. "Make sure you get the guy from the train in the center of the picture. That way, we'll be sure to find our spot when we get back." Mike took the picture and then they continued on their way towards the Capitol Building. Andrew and his two friends continued walking closer to the Capitol Building, and then Andrew suddenly noticed a group of US Army guys up ahead in black t-shirts standing near their trucks. "I'm going to ask them if we can get a picture with them," Andrew decided, quickly putting his t-shirt back on. "I'll signal you two to join me if they say yes." Andrew bravely walked up to the Army guys, all of whom looked glad that they were on the other side of the fence from such a huge muscular guy. It's the same reaction I get from guys at the Reserves, Andrew said to himself with a silent sigh. I really wish people would stop being afraid of how big and strong I am, but I guess that's impossible! The Army guys were glad to have their picture taken with Andrew and his friends, especially after Andrew showed them his Military ID. They even pointed Andrew and his two friends in the direction of the Capitol Reflecting Pool, where other Army guys would be preparing mini-artillery guns for firing later in the evening. Andrew and his friends continued walking and soon saw a good view of the Capitol Building above the treetops: the "CNN view" as some called it. "Good job Mike; you're getting lots of good pictures of our first trip to Washington DC," Andrew commended his big friend. "Thanks Andrew, I get the feeling that we'll always remember this day," Mike said. "Yes we will Mike: because I just remembered where I've seen that guy with the Navy Frisbee before," Andrew said. "Well don't keep it to yourself Andrew!" Carrie admonished him, once she realized he wasn't going to say anything more. "All in good time Carrie; we're approaching those mini-Artillery guns the Army guys told us about," Andrew informed her. Just like the Army guys at the trucks, the guys manning the guns gladly posed for pictures with Andrew and his friends. After the pictures were taken, Andrew made sure to thank the soldiers for their service. The soldiers promptly thanked Andrew for his support, making Andrew feel very humbled and proud that he served his country like they did theirs. Then Andrew and his friends moved on, making their way around the northern edge of the Capitol Building until they reached the large plaza on the east side. "I have an idea for your next profile picture on MySpace Andrew," Mike said suddenly. "What is it Mike?" Andrew asked, as Carrie continued taking pictures. "Stand under the dome and raise your arms as if you're holding it up," Mike suggested. "We'll call it 'Capitol Muscle' or something." "I think 'Capitol Dome Military Press' has a better ring to it," Andrew said, positioning himself properly for the picture. He grinned as Mike took the picture and then asked, "There now Mike: are you happy now?" "Yes I am Andrew; let's head to the White House now," Mike suggested. "Before we go, take a picture towards the Washington Monument in the distance," Carrie suggested. "It's starting to get dark and it will make a great picture." Mike took the picture and then they made their way down Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House. Once they got there, they found lots of people taking pictures and after a couple of blurry attempts, they decided to cross the street so that they could get a better close-up view. "Good job Carrie; I think you're a better photographer than Mike," Andrew said proudly. "That's because I'm the Yearbook Photographer Andrew," Carrie reminded him with a smug grin as Mike frowned. "Are we finished taking pictures now?" Mike asked impatiently. "Can we get back to the lawn before the crowds leave us no place to sit to watch the fireworks?" "Good point Mike; it's almost sunset," Andrew realized. "And it looks like it's going to rain," he added, as the first drops began to fall. "You'd better use the umbrella in the backpack Carrie," Andrew suggested. "You don't want to get all wet." "What about you and Mike Andrew?" Carrie asked, as she took the fold-up umbrella out of the backpack. "Mike and I will drink in the water of life and it will cleanse us from our exertions over the last two hours," Andrew replied cryptically. "You mean the rain will wash off the sweat you worked up from playing football in the hot sun," Carrie laughed, amused at Andrew's attempt to sound wise and mysterious. "Those were pretty good metaphors you just used Andrew." "Thanks Carrie; sometimes I try to sound wise so that people don't forget that I have brains and not just brawn," Andrew informed her. "I don't think anyone who has seen you today with your shirt off will forget that you have brawn," Carrie assured him, making the understatement of the year. Andrew grinned at her in agreement as they made their way back to their spot near the Hirshhorn Museum, by way of the Washington Monument. ====================================================================================================================================================== Soon after JP and I finished throwing his Navy Frisbee around, the skies began to cloud up and it started to pour. We didn’t bother running for cover, instead letting the warm rain soak our skin, though Chrissy quickly realized she would have a problem. “Shit,” she cried, “I’m wearing a white shirt.” JP and I laughed as I loaned her my dark blue shirt so she could cover up her tits. She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “Thanks, Matty.” I blushed, nervously looking over at my boyfriend who was sniggering. The sudden downpour didn’t last too long, however, and the sun quickly came out again just before it dipped behind the Washington skyline. JP and I decided to run to a nearby concession stand and get something to eat. As we stood in line, my boyfriend leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I think Chrissy’s starting to have a crush on you now,” he said. I looked at him like he was crazy. “Seriously,” he continued. “She knows I’m not interested in her anymore, so she’s moving on.” JP was always quick at picking these things up – or at least quicker than I. “But, I’m already taken,” I rebutted, looking fondly into his angelic eyes. “What am I going to do?” He grinned. “Welcome to my world,” he said, patting me firmly on the back. ======================================================================================================================================================= Andrew, Carrie and Mike got back to their spot on the lawn and marvelled at the view of the National Mall at dusk. "We should make this an annual event Carrie," Andrew informed his girlfriend. He looked towards the Washington Monument with the dusky sky behind it and added, "It's very relaxing here in DC, even on July 4th." "I agree Andrew," Carrie said, snuggling up against the massive chest of her boyfriend. "Plenty of eye candy too." "What do you mean?" Andrew asked her. "Did you see the guy to our left making spectacular dives to catch the Navy Frisbee his friend threw him a couple of hours ago?" "Yeah I did, before we got our pictures of the Capitol Building and the White House, " Andrew replied, smiling at the memory. "He's really athletic and muscular, and he's the same guy we saw on the train. I'm trying to figure out how to introduce myself to him, but I can't think of a good way to do it." He looked over to their left and realized something. "I don't see him now, or his brother, just his girlfriend lone on the blanket to our left." Then his eyes narrowed as he saw something that demanded his immediate attention. He stood up with his fists clenched and glared over to his left. "What is it Andrew?" Carrie asked him, standing up beside him. "Trouble," Andrew replied through gritted teeth. "Stay here Carrie; we'll be right back. Come on Mike." Carrie knew better than to argue with that tone of voice and she stayed behind as Andrew and Mike headed over to stop the troubling scene about to unfold. But as they soon found out, their intervention would prove unnecessary. ====================================================================================================================================================== It was almost dark by the time we headed back to our spot on the lawn. As we approached, JP grabbed my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. I looked at him puzzled, but he was staring grimly in Chrissy’s direction. She was lying on the blanket as two brawny college-aged jocks stalked toward her unseen, eyeing her schemingly. They were about to hit on her…and it was obvious that these guys were the type that would not take no for an answer. The bigger one must have outweighed me by at least 60 or 70 pounds – though a lot of it probably was fat – and the smaller one wasn’t much smaller. Their broad chests filled their wife-beaters to a near-ripping state, their arms thick with bulk. Cautiously, we snuck closer to within earshot. “Hey, baby,” the larger of the two nagged, startling Chrissy. “You alone tonight?” She craned her head up indignantly. “No,” she snapped firmly but calmly, “I’m with two guys who could knock you both out without a fight.” I gulped. Please tell me she’s bluffing, I thought. This only seemed to amuse them. “Really?” the other one retorted. “Well, I don’t see them around right now. You need someone to cuddle with?” “Don’t you even think about it!” I heard a deep voice bellow from behind me. It was JP, an intense fire bolting from his eyes, his muscles twitching with fury. The remaining twilight reflected off his body and buzzed head so magnificently, he was downright intimidating. The smaller guy’s mouth dropped open slightly when he sighted the kid, but the other guy remained unfazed. “This pretty boy is your boyfriend,” he smirked, peering at him assertively. “No,” JP returned without missing a beat, “but I am your worst nightmare.” It was the way he said those words that sent a chill down my spine. The older jock scoffed. “You wanna fight me? Us two against you two?” My heart was pounding and my knees were wobbling. What was JP doing? He couldn’t possibly be enticing the guys to fight us. Though I knew my boyfriend could take this guy, I was certain I’d be dead against the other. I froze. Arrogantly, the bigger dude sauntered up to JP who stood his ground, not moving a muscle. The two jocks were standing eyeball to eyeball, their beefy chests almost touching each other. The jerk slowly raised his fist, an egotistical sneer spreading across his face. That’s when JP struck. In the blink of an eye, JP pounced and expertly twisted his opponent’s arm behind his back, making him yelp in pain. Before he even had a chance to respond, the jerk’s head was forced back over his shoulder by JP’s other arm so that he looked him straight through the eyes. The guy had no choice but to look back as JP shot him his debilitating look of death. “You sure you wanna mess with me?” my boyfriend hissed. His challenger merely gagged in reply, JP’s powerful forearm practically crushing his windpipe. He realized he didn’t have a prayer with the champion wrestler who could, with one quick snap of his neck, take away his life. JP gave him one more squeeze and, as quickly as he had put his opponent in the position, he threw him out of it, leaving him coughing and sputtering on the ground. I stood there stunned. Other than during a wrestling match, never before had I seen him attack someone. It simply wasn’t a contest. The other guy may have weighed more, but he couldn’t match JP’s amazing strength and quickness. His friend helped him off the ground and the two hurried away, afraid to even look at the younger kid again. Immediately, Chrissy ran up and threw her arms around JP. “Oh my God, JP,” she exclaimed, her fingers barely able to fully grasp his huge shoulders, “that was so brave of you! Thanks!” Then, she gave him a big kiss on the cheek. JP merely shrugged and blushed a deep red. “Wait ‘till my brother hears about this.” JP looked back at her, smiling, happy to change the subject. “Nick’s coming to the wrestling camp this summer, right?” Chrissy nodded. “Are you kidding?” she answered. Her little brother Nick was 12 years old and was going to be in seventh grade the next school year. And like many boys in our area, he idolized JP. According to Chrissy, her brother had clipped out every newspaper article about his hero during wrestling season and had been bugging her to take him to a match. As soon as he heard that JP, along with the help of his coaches, was organizing a one-week summer wrestling camp for middle school kids, he instantly jumped at the chance and persuaded his parents to sign him up. Now, he was counting down the days until it started. “He wants to be just like you when he grows up,” Chrissy gushed. “Well, the great JP Maloney makes one helluva role model,” I added, patting my boyfriend on his wide back. "He certainly does," a very deep voice agreed from their right. JP and I looked over to where the voice came from and our jaws dropped. ======================================================================================================================================================= Andrew smirked slightly at the look of shock on both guys' faces. Then the bigger guy in the light blue tank top narrowed his eyes at Andrew, and asked him, "You want to try to mess with me too?" "No man," Andrew assured him, slightly intimidated by the guy's intensity, even though he outweighed him by about 100 pounds. "I just wanted to congratulate you on how well you took care of those two jerks. If someone tried anything like that with my girlfriend, I would have reacted the same way. I was about to intervene to help your girlfriend out but you got there first." "He's right JP," the girl said. "He was coming over to help me before you showed up; that's why I felt brave enough to tell those two jerks to go away." "Thanks man," JP said gratefully, calming down now that he knew the huge red-haired guy wasn't going to cause any trouble. "It's good to know that there are still some good guys left, instead of just jerks." He walked over to Andrew and held out his hand. "I'm JP Maloney of Central High School." "I thought you looked familiar," Andrew said, shaking JP's hand. "I've seen your picture in the Washington papers. I'm Andrew Pearson from Orillia District High School." "Andrew Pearson: the YouTube Football Star?" JP asked him with raised eyebrows. "You've heard of me?" Andrew asked him in surprise. "Yeah man; you're famous, at least online," JP informed him. "You must be really smart, using a new video-sharing website to get the attention of the NCAA Recruiters that way." "Yeah man," Andrew agreed, unconsciously mimicking his new friend's speech patterns. "But to prove it, I'd better remember to introduce my friends to you. The big guy with brown hair beside me is Mike and the girl beside him is my girlfriend Carrie." "Pleased to meet you Carrie," JP said, shaking her hand gently. He turned to Mike and shook his hand firmly. "What's up man?" "My height and weight relative to yours," Mike replied, realizing that he outweighed JP by more than 100 pounds of solid muscle. "You're right about that man," JP agreed. "But I'll get big like you one day." "I'm sure you will JP," his friend agreed. He stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "I'm Matt Anderson: JP's best friend." And more than that, JP thought, as Mike and Andrew shook Matt's hand. Then Carrie and Chrissy shook hands and introduced themselves. "Since all introductions have been made, would you and your friends like to watch the fireworks with us?" JP asked Andrew. "It's the least I can do since you were ready to help Chrissy before I got there." "Thanks man; we'd love to," Andrew replied, after Mike and Carrie nodded in agreement. "Mike: go bring our blanket and bag over here." "Yes sir!" Mike shouted jokingly, saluting Andrew as he ran to their spot on the lawn to the right of JP's group. "Mike did that salute pretty well; is he in the military?" JP asked Andrew. "No, but his older brother is and so am I," Andrew replied quietly. "Thank you for your service Andrew," JP said gratefully, clapping Andrew on the shoulder. "Thank you for your support JP," Andrew said gratefully. "You're welcome man," JP said. "Now, since you're military, I bet you can guess what my initials stand for." "I can guess John Paul, but that's it," Andrew informed him. "Were you named after someone famous?" "Yes: John Paul Jones: the U.S. Naval Hero," JP replied proudly. "And you are a hero as well man," Andrew assured him proudly. "What you did to that guy who was bugging Chrissy proved that conclusively." "Thanks man," JP said gratefully. His face turned angry as he added, "But it wasn't just heroics that made me do that." "What do you mean man?" Andrew asked him quietly, leading JP away from their friends. "Or would you prefer I don't ask?" "No, it's okay Andrew; even though we just met, I know I can trust you to keep this quiet," JP assured him. He waited for Andrew's nod of agreement before he continued. "I saw my older brother's face in my mind as I had my arm around the throat of that guy." "I see; you have some transference issues with a former mentor who turned against you," Andrew said with a sudden look of understanding. "How did you figure that out?" JP asked in astonishment; amazed that Andrew could read his mind so exactly. "My former best friend Steve used to be my mentor as I started working out," Andrew revealed. "But when I exceeded him in size and strength, his jealously revealed itself as he started bashing my proteges: like Mike there." "I can't imagine why anyone would bash someone as big as Mike," JP said with a faint look of fear on his face. "He's as big as you and you must be at least 6 foot 6 and 300 pounds of solid muscle!" "6 foot 7 and 305 pounds actually," Andrew said. "Mike and I are the exact same height and weight; pretty amazing considering he was just 5 feet tall and 80 pounds when I started training him in the fall of 1998." He noticed JP's look of astonishment and decided to switch topics. "But enough about me: let's throw my Miami football around for a few minutes and you can tell me all about your older brother." "Good idea man," JP agreed, as Andrew signalled Mike to throw him the football. He smiled as Mike threw the ball with a perfect spiral and Andrew caught it effortlessly with one hand. "You and Mike make a good team Andrew." "I should hope so; we got our team to the Provincial Championship last season," Andrew remembered. "Unfortunately our team lost, but this year we'll win!" "I'm sure you will Andrew," JP agreed, smiling at his new friend with pride in his eyes. "Have you found that your success has cost you personally like mine has?" "Yeah man," Andrew replied sadly, as he turned away to look towards the Washington Monument. "My best friend of five years turned against me after I beat up the class bully, and we've barely spoken since. It sucked man, and it still hurts almost seven years later." "I know exactly how you feel man," JP said, stepping forward to lay a hand on Andrew's massive shoulder. He was amazed that he and Andrew had encountered such similar problems as they had achieved great athletic success. "My older brother Ryan turned against me once I got close to his size and strength, which is very ironic since he was the one who taught me how to work out in the first place." "That's too bad man," Andrew said, turning around and patting JP's shoulder gently. He looked back at their group and noticed Matt smiling proudly. "But it looks like you've found a new older brother in your best friend Matt." "Yeah, Matt's been great to me over the last couple of years," JP agreed. "He's really filled the void in my life that Ryan created when he walked away." He left out the part about Matt being his boyfriend; not sure that Andrew would understand. "Anyway, enough talk Andrew; time for some football." "Good idea man," Andrew agreed, lifting up his football. "Go long man; let's see how much you've learned." More than you know man, JP thought smugly, remembering fondly how Ryan had played football with him when he was younger. He jogged further down the lawn; closer to the Capitol Building. He stopped in a part of the lawn clear of people but then noticed everyone around him staring at his ripped muscles in awe. JP smirked and thought, Just wait until you see the size of the guy who throws me the football! JP held up his hands to let Andrew know that he was ready to catch the football, but then he had to dive back to catch it because Andrew threw it too far. Man, he's scary strong; I wouldn't want to get on his bad side! JP thought in astonishment and a little fear. I'm just glad that he wasn't the one bugging Chrissy; I wouldn't have been able to scare him away! "Wow, you're really strong Andrew!" JP shouted to his new friend. "What are your stats anyway?" "Six foot seven, 305 lbs, 25 inch biceps and a one-rep max bench of 880 pounds," Andrew replied smugly, crossing his huge arms over his massive chest. Everyone around him, friends and strangers alike, turned to stare at him in awe. Andrew grinned and waved at his new fans; then he flexed his massive biceps and laughed. "Yeah, it's all true everyone, as you can see on MySpace. Just look up Andrew the Tank and you'll find all my pictures!" JP's jaw had dropped along with all the onlookers, but he managed to close his mouth as Andrew turned back to look at him with a cocky smirk. "Are you going to hold that football until it gets completely dark JP?" Andrew teased him. JP shook his head with a sheepish grin and tossed the football back to Andrew in a perfect spiral. "Those stats are really impressive man," he congratulated his big friend, grinning as Andrew caught his catch with just one hand. "You must be a god on the football field." "Yeah I am man," Andrew agreed with a smug grin. "Want to see me catch my own thrown football?" "Yeah man and I'll catch it all on video to show my friends later," JP said, getting out his digital camera. He looked at the screen, after turning it on, and added, "Just stay in the light of the street lamps Andrew and I'll be able to catch everything." "Hey, who do you think you are, giving me orders Little Man?" Andrew sneered with an arrogant grin. He chuckled at JP's sudden look of fear and added, "I was just kidding man; don't get scared." "I wasn't scared Andrew," JP bluffed, hoping that no one besides Andrew had seen the look of fear on his face. "I just thought you were serious, that's all." "I understand," Andrew assured him, meaning that he knew how important maintaining the image of a fearless jock was when one was big and strong. "Are you ready JP?" "I'm ready Andrew," JP replied, turning the knob to video and pressing the record button. "Show me what you've got Big Brother," he blurted out without thinking, wishing Andrew was Ryan. "Okay Little Brother; get ready to be amazed!" Andrew shouted, realizing that he regarded JP as a protege just like he did Mike. Andrew coked his arm back and threw his football high above the treetops. He then ran down the mall towards the Capitol Building and turned to see his football curving down over the treetops. Andrew adjusted his course laterally to intercept it and caught it neatly in his arms. "Yeah!" Andrew shouted in excitement, spiking the ball and flexing his massive biceps. "Now that's how it's done!" Everyone around Andrew who had witnessed his amazing feat clapped and cheered for him, causing Andrew's face to turn red with embarrassment. JP grinned as he approached the crowd gathering around his new 'big brother', pleased that Andrew was acting humble instead of cocky. Wait until I show this video to my friends, JP thought to himself. If Andrew agrees, I may even post it on that new video-sharing site called YouTube! Then his great football skills could reach even more college recruiters! As JP reached the edges of the crowd, his admiration for Andrew grew as he saw his big friend patiently signing autographs, posing for pictures and giving some smaller guys workout tips. If only Ryan was like that instead of being a cocky jerk! JP thought angrily. Then he would be worthy of the Big Brother title like Andrew is! Andrew looked up from signing autographs and noticed JP suddenly looking very sad. He whistled to catch JP's attention and when JP looked up, he said, "Join me in the center of the crowd man." Everyone turned to see who Andrew was motioning at, and their jaws dropped as they saw JP's incredible musculature. JP suddenly became very embarrassed as everyone started asking him for pictures, autographs and workout tips. "Did you tell everyone about my success last year in wrestling?" JP asked Andrew once the crowd of fans had finally dispersed. "I didn't have to man; once I mentioned your name, everyone knew who you were already," Andrew replied. He looked down at JP with a brotherly grin as he added, "You're famous man." "Well, perhaps in this town anyway," JP muttered, suddenly embarrassed. "But you're famous all over this continent man; thanks to your YouTube videos! With your permission, I'd like to post that video of you catching your own thrown football for the US college football coaches to see. Then you'll be recruited even more than you have been! As a Canadian, you're going to need that kind of cutting-edge digital exposure to be noticed enough by the NCAA to be offered a full football scholarship!" "Ok JP, you've made your point, with lots of big words no less," Andrew teased him. As they began walking back to their friends in the center of the National Mall, he asked, "How high is your IQ man?" "Just shy of genius level, so about 150," JP admitted. "Mine's the same as yours man," Andrew realized. "Maybe that's why we're able to carry on an intelligent conversation instead of just carrying a football." "But right now, you're carrying a football Andrew, so what does that say about your intelligence?" JP teased him. "It says that I'm a smart jock, not a dumb one, because I'm actually able to speak entire sentences JP," Andrew reminded him with a smirk. "But if you really want me to act like a dumb jock, I'm sure I could learn." "That's not necessary Andrew; there's already one dumb jock in my life; I don't need another," JP said bitterly, clenching his fists as he thought about what a big jerk Ryan had turned into over the past couple of years. "I'm not going to turn out like my brother; I'm aiming higher in life than just college sports." "Well you have good aim so far JP," Andrew commended him as they made their way down the path shaded by the tall trees. As they skirted their way around the Washington Monument fence, he added, "You'd be great at football man, but from what I saw earlier, wrestling is your first love." Matt is my first love, JP thought, smiling at the thought of the wonderful summer he was going to have with his boyfriend. "Wrestling was my first love Andrew, but once I found Matt, I found someone I could really love," JP said without thinking. "Yeah, I understand what it's like to love someone like a brother," Andrew said, completely missing JP's slip. "I can see that you look at Matt as a substitute for your brother Ryan." "As I do with you now Andrew, " JP blurted out, feeling like he'd known Andrew for years. Andrew's jaw dropped in astonishment and JP hurriedly explained: "It's been really hard not having a mentor for the past couple of years man; I guess I just admire you a lot for not acting like a cocky jerk just because you're great at football." "No problem JP," Andrew assured him, once he realized what JP was trying to say. "I don't mind being your 'Honorary Big Brother' as you prepare for your college career. I'm only a phone call or email away and my hometown of Orillia is only a day's drive from here." "Thanks for being my 'Honorary Big Brother' Andrew," JP said gratefully. "I'm hoping to get a wrestling scholarship to Ohio State so that I can stay with Matt. Of course, since he's one year older than me, like you are, this is the last year we'll have together." "I know what that's like man; my friend Mark Stevenson gets a full football scholarship to Miami this fall," Andrew said. "I'll really miss him man, just as I'm sure you'll miss Matt when he goes to college in a year." He noticed what looked like a hint of tears in JP's eyes and suddenly realized that Matt and JP were more than just brothers to each other. But instead of sharing his sudden insight with his new friend, Andrew asked, "Has Ohio State recruited you yet JP?" "No man, but since I'm just going into my Junior Year, it won't be long until they do," JP predicted with a cocky smirk. "Have you visited the campus yet?" Andrew asked. "No man; why do you ask?" JP asked curiously. "I'm going to Ohio State in a few days for a recruiting visit," Andrew replied. "I know we just met, and we should ask your parents first, but would you and Matt like to come with me?" JP's jaw dropped in astonishment, amazed that Andrew (a stranger one hour ago) was proposing a road trip. But then he saw Andrew's serious look and realized that he had found a new mentor to replace his big brother Ryan. Andrew is the big brother I wish Ryan still was, JP realized. I see now that guys don't have to be related to be brothers. "That would be great Andrew," JP said, once he could speak again. He stepped closer to his new friend and motioned him to bend down. Andrew did so and JP whispered in his ear, "You're really filling the void that Ryan left when he walked away from me Andrew. I never told Matt this, but it sucked having to work out by myself without a mentor around. And even though he has been emotionally absent for the past year, this fall Ryan will be physically absent as well, since he's going off to Virginia Tech. So I have no one left to look up to. But now I can look up to you as a big brother, just like I once did with Ryan." "I'm only an email or phone call away JP," Andrew reminded him, pulling out his flip phone so that he could give JP his cell number. "And since I'm physically present, not absent, you can look up to me right now." JP chuckled as Andrew straightened up to his full height and crossed his huge arms over his massive chest. Andrew grinned at him smugly and added, "I love mentoring the little guys like-" "Little?!" JP interrupted, his cockiness suddenly returning. He flexed his 16 inch bicep and sneered, "Does this look little to you Andrew?" "Yes it does, compared to mine JP," Andrew informed him sternly, flexing his massive 25 inch bicep. JP's cocky smirk vanished quickly and Andrew nodded in satisfaction. "Remember JP, you may be the big man at your school, but then there's college and the real world to consider." JP nodded in sudden understanding, realizing that his new friend Andrew was only one of many men out there who were bigger and stronger than he was. "I'm going to tell you how my dad's cockiness prematurely ended his NFL career JP; then you'll understand why you should be more modest and humble in public." JP nodded soberly and Andrew began telling him the story about how his dad had given in to all the hype and started drinking and driving fast during his NFL career. That carefree attitude led to the car accident that shattered Chad's kneecap, tore his ACL and ended his NFL days forever. Then Chad had to crawl back to Orillia and start from the bottom of his boss's company as a Management Intern. JP's eyes widened in understanding as Andrew told him the story and he realized that his big brother could be headed for a rude awakening as well. But I'll be the one that causes it, JP thought to himself. His fists clenched as he remembered his first reason for working out: to beat up his brother one day. JP had no idea how prophetic that goal would become and how it would change both his and Ryan's lives forever. It was just about completely dark by the time Andrew and JP got back to their friends sitting on the lawn, where they had an unobstructed view of the Washington Monument. It's about time you got back here Andrew; Mike had to fill in for you," Carrie teased him. "I hope not Carrie; you only have one boyfriend and that's me," Andrew growled, glaring at Mike. JP felt as nervous as Mike looked and Carrie had to assure Andrew that she and Mike were just friends. Matt and Chrissy looked really nervous too, and JP suddenly realized that they had looked just like that as he had held that guy in a wrestling hold barely half an hour earlier. JP scratched the back of his shaved head, embarrassed that he had allowed his bad feelings about Ryan to make him lash out like that. I've got to let Matt know later why I did that, JP realized. I hope he understands like Andrew did. He breathed a sigh of relief along with everyone else when Andrew's angry look faded into a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that guys," Andrew apologized. "I guess I was just afraid that some guys would try to cause trouble with you like they did with Chrissy earlier." "What JP did to those guys is nothing compared to what you could do Andrew," Carrie reminded him. "You could have snapped their necks like twigs!" "You'd better tell everyone your idea Andrew, before the fireworks start," JP said suddenly, anxious to change the subject. "Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me man," Andrew said gratefully, slapping his new friend on the shoulder. JP concealed a wince as Andrew quickly told Carrie and Mike his idea about Matt and JP coming along on their Ohio State Recruiting Visit. "What do you think Carrie?" "It sounds great, especially since Mike and I got a chance to know Matt and Chrissy while you and JP were playing football," Carrie replied. "Good, then it's all settled except for the timing," Andrew realized. He turned to JP and said, "We're staying in the Washington area for another day before leaving on the 6th. Is that good for you and Matt?" "Yes Andrew; that should give you guys enough time to meet my parents and Matt's mom to get their permission," JP replied. Andrew looked embarrassed that he hadn't thought of that. "Don't feel bad that you forgot about that step Andrew; I think my dad will approve of you. He's really upset that Ryan took off this summer on a road trip instead of being around to mentor me; he'll be glad I've found a new mentor." "Anything I can do to help man," Andrew said quietly, feeling sobered by the fact that JP held him in such high esteem. But then he realized that JP would never have told him so much while they were alone if he didn't trust him implicitly. "I'll be there for you as much as I can JP, even when I'm away at college. As I've told you twice before now, I'm only a phone call or email away." JP grinned at his big friend, but he also felt sad that it wasn't Ryan saying those things. Where did I go wrong with Ryan? JP asked himself. Have I lost my brother forever? He should be here, sharing one last Independence Day at home with me instead of Andrew having to fill his role as my big brother! JP was distracted from his sad thoughts by the first fireworks going off and he let his cares drift away as he enjoyed the view with his friends and new 'Big Brother.' "The second one looked just like a side profile of Abraham Lincoln!" Carrie shouted in astonishment. "Do you think it was deliberately launched that way?" "I don't know Carrie, but if Mike's been taking pictures, we can find out later," Andrew replied, looking over at his big friend. Mike held up the digital camera to let Andrew know that he wasn't missing anything. "For now Carrie, let's be quiet and enjoy the show." Carrie nodded in agreement and leaned back into Andrew's massive chest. She smiled as Andrew's muscular arms folded around her gently and she realized that there was nowhere she's rather be than in the arms of her boyfriend. ===================================================================================================================================================== The rest of that night was amazing. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at JP as the fireworks illuminated his flawless face, the different colors reflecting in his dazzling eyes. Every now and then, he would glance over at me and smile. A tear rolled down my cheek. I was so overwhelmed by his beauty and his love for me. How the hell did I get so lucky? Chrissy’s head was leaning on my lap, but I found myself wishing it were JP’s instead. I wanted him near me every minute of the day. ====================================================================================================================================================== Once the fireworks were over around 10 pm, the crowds began clearing out of the National Mall. "I'm not ready to go home yet; what about you guys?" JP asked his new friends. "I'd like to see the Lincoln Memorial," Andrew replied. When his friends nodded in agreement, he asked JP, "Would you and your friends like to join us?" "We'd be glad to Andrew," JP replied, as Matt and Chrissy nodded in agreement. "If you look beyond the Washington Monument, you can see the Lincoln Memorial from here." Andrew and his friends looked to the west and saw that JP was right. Mike took a picture as everyone admired the view. "There, now that we've seen the Lincoln Memorial, we can go home," Matt said impatiently, eager to be alone with JP. "I think Andrew meant to see it up close, as well as inside Matt," JP reminded his boyfriend with a frown. Andrew nodded in agreement and JP smirked at his boyfriend. "See, I told you Matt!" "Okay JP, I give up: we'll see Lincoln up close," Matt sighed. "Then can we go home?" "Yeah we can Matt," JP agreed, realizing that Matt was eager to be alone with him. He led his friends across the street to the path that led to the western end of the National Mall. Everyone admired the view as they walked down the path on the north side of the Tidal Basin. Andrew made sure to take a picture of the Korean War Memorial, since his deceased grandfather had fought in that war as well as World War II. The six friends finally reached the Lincoln Memorial and saw lots of people climbing the stairs, even though it was after 10:30 pm. "Quite a crowd JP," Andrew commented. "I never expected to see so many people at this monument at this time of night." "Abraham Lincoln was arguably the most famous president in our nation's history Andrew," JP reminded his big friend. "And this memorial has been the sight of many famous events since it was constructed. That's why it draws such big crowds at all times: about six million people per year." "I understand JP," Andrew said soberly, realizing the great pride JP felt for his country. "Can we go inside now?" "Sure Andrew," JP agreed, feeling sheepish that he had soured the good mood they had been enjoying most of the evening. "Follow me man; I'll get us through the crowds." Andrew and his friends followed JP up the stairs into the Lincoln Memorial and made their way through the crowds until they could get a good shot of Abraham Lincoln sitting on his chair. "That was a very good picture Mike; especially since you caught the words about Lincoln's memory being enshrined forever," Andrew commended his friend. "Thanks Andrew; I thought you'd appreciate that, considering the events of seven months ago," Mike replied. Andrew glared at Mike at first, remembering that his grandfather had died a year before a few weeks before Christmas, but then he realized that Mike had been trying in his own way to honour Bert Pearson's memory. "Thanks man; I do appreciate it," Andrew assured him, his glare fading into a sad smile as he put a gentle hand on Mike's shoulder. JP asked him what was wrong as they headed back towards the Washington Monument and Andrew told him about his war veteran grandfather: who had served in World War II and Korea during his 20 years of service in the Canadian Forces. After Andrew finished the story, JP realized that he shared a deeper kinship with his new friend than he had first thought: considering that both their grandfathers had served in the military. The group of six friends had reached the Washington Monument by then, and they got a good close-up shot. "Well, it's been great getting to know you JP, but we should get back to our hotel now," Andrew said, checking his watch. "It's almost 11:30." "If you came with us on the Metro, we can drop you off at the Pentagon City Station and then you'll have a much shorter walk back to your hotel," JP offered. "I have an idea of what we can do tomorrow." Andrew looked over at Carrie and Mike, who nodded in agreement. He looked back at JP and said, "Good idea man; thanks for thinking of that." "I'm a little surprised that you didn't Andrew," JP teased him, as they began walking to the L'Enfant Plaza Metro Station. "It's not because I'm not smart like you JP; it's because I'm from out of town," Andrew reminded him with a mock glare. When he saw JP trying not to look scared, Andrew laughed and assured him, "I'm just kidding man; we never would have had such a great Fourth of July if we hadn't met you and your friends!" Mike and Carrie grinned and nodded in agreement and JP breathed a sigh of relief. When he thought back to the one bad incident of the evening, he realized that if those two college jocks hadn't harassed Chrissy, he would never have met Andrew: his new mentor and substitute Big Brother. I wouldn't have traded this evening for anything, JP thought to himself, very pleased that he had once again found someone he could look up to. He hoped that with Andrew's help, he could one day repair his relationship with his older brother, though he suspected it would get worse before it would get better. About half an hour later, Andrew and his friends said goodbye to JP and his friends, agreeing to meet them the next afternoon at Burke Lake Park: a large park near JP's house. "Thanks for a wonderful day at the National Mall JP," Andrew said, as he stepped off the train at Pentagon City Station. "See you at Burke Lake Park tomorrow. Call me when you're ready to meet." "No problem man," JP said, holding the doors open as Mike and Carrie stepped off to stand beside Andrew on the platform. "Thanks for the wonderful opportunity to see Ohio State in a few days with you and your friends. Have a good night Andrew." "You're welcome man," Andrew said, as the doors began to close. "See you tomorrow 'Little Brother'." The doors closed before JP could reply and he quickly raised his hand to wave goodbye to Andrew. As the train pulled away from the platform, JP wished more than anything that he was waving to his true big brother Ryan. Please let me know what you think and if I did justice to the JP Character and his innermost thoughts, a point of view that I can't remember being shown before in either the JP or Nick stories. Note: I will gradually transfer the illustrated version of the story onto my website: http://seanspictures.webs.com. All the pictures will come from my trip to Washington DC on July 3rd, 2011.
  3. Wyatt: ‘Uhh….why….no….stop’ *tosses and turns in his bunk* ‘I don’t want it….take it away….’ Roberto: ‘WAKE UP PRISONER!’ Wyatt: *jumps to his feet and nearly falls over* ‘Wha? Shit it happened again. Ahh crap I have already forgotten it.’ Roberto: ‘Time for you to shower.’ *throws a towel at Wyatt* Wyatt: ‘Are you going with me?’ Roberto: ‘Of course, I have to it is my job.’ Wyatt: ‘I assume you are going to watch me take a shower?’ Roberto: ‘Just get out of your cell and follow me.’ *directs Wyatt to the showers* Wyatt: ‘You are so cranky all the time.’ *silence* Wyatt: ‘FINE! I don’t need to talk to you anyway.’ *takes his stripes off and showers* *Roberto takes a glimpse and smiles behind him* *Wyatt turns and Roberto wipes the smile off his face* Wyatt: ‘You are watching me. Do you like what you see?’ *silence* Wyatt: ‘Come on, admit you like my ass. Even though I am small, I know my ass is nice.’ *turns to look at Roberto to get a reaction as his cock stands up* *Roberto doesn’t make a move at all* Roberto: ‘Do you mind putting your towel on please man?’ Wyatt: ‘Do I make you nervous? Come over and touch it, I want you to.’ *waits for Roberto to walk over, but he doesn’t budge* *Roberto points to the towel close to Wyatt and makes a motion to put it around his waist* Wyatt: ‘Damn, you are tough.’ *puts towel on still with hard-on* ‘I need to relieve this somehow.’ *starts stroking, but Roberto waves his finger no* Roberto: ‘NO! You won’t do that here, maybe in your cell, but not here. King would kill me if I let you do that here.’ Wyatt: ‘Wow, he has a lot of power here doesn’t he? Would something happen to you if you had sex with me, not that I would ask you to?’ *silence* Wyatt: ‘You aren’t even going to answer? DAMN!’ Roberto: ‘Yeah I’ll answer that question and the answer is NO! King gave me instructions to make sure that you behave yourself until he gets back again and that means the sexual innuendo or anything okay?’ Wyatt: ‘Alright I get it, but this hard-on has to be relieved.’ Roberto: ‘Back to your cell then man. You can do it there, but you will clean up the mess, understand?’ Wyatt: ‘Yeah I understand.’ *they walk back to the jail area and Wyatt goes back into the cell* *Roberto closes the door and moves back to his original position with his arms crossed* *Wyatt pulls his towel off and remembers that he left his stripes in the shower area* Wyatt: ‘Shit I forget my clothes, can you get me some clean ones Roberto?’ Roberto: ‘Fine, I will be back shortly with some new ones then. Remember clean up the mess you make.’ *Roberto leaves as Wyatt starts stroking his cock* *he moans as it feels so good* *after a few strokes he feels a bit strange and doesn’t notice that his body shakes a little* *he stops stroking to get up and wipe some sweat from his brow* *he goes to lean on the cell door to catch his breath as he gets a slight pain in his back* Wyatt: ‘OH GAWD, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG…..* *he feels his back stretching a bit as his spine grows and he adds height* *his chest begins to heave as it begins to grow larger and fuller* *his grip on the cell bars begins to make them creak a little as his hands and forearms swell* *he sees the veins in both arms thickening and looking like ropes as they get denser* *he feels his legs moving further away from each other as his cock lengthens and points towards the floor* Wyatt: ‘OHH YEAH *deeper voice* WHOA, IS THIS MY VOICE?’ *grabs throat* *rubs his chest and notices huge mounds of flesh and a thick stomach before flexing his massive guns covered in huge veins* *he laughs a bit as he finds his huge ass and rubs it* *his horniness is quite apparent as his cock pools precum on the ground* *he strokes it rapidly and roars with pleasure as he feels a big load building already* Wyatt: ‘MMMMM FEELS SO AMAZING….* *he shoots an enormous rope out of his cell as it hits the window in front of it* *he coats it with thick spunk and feels himself getting slightly weaker* Wyatt: ‘AHH DAMN *voice diminishes* fuck no!’ *shrinks with each rope as he regresses back to his normal size after completely cumming* *he wonders how this happened in the first place* Wyatt: ‘Is this what those dreams were about? Hmmm….now I’m curious.’ *sits and ponders as he sits naked and waits for Roberto to return with his new stripes* At the Precinct: King: ‘Jamie how did it go with Monroe?’ *sits at a table with Jamison in the lunch room* Jamison: ‘He obviously took the bait boss. The judge approved the contract without a second thought. It almost seemed too good to be true.’ *smiles from both men* King: ‘Excellent job Jamie, I will talk to you later when I get to the bar.’ *gives Jamison a firm handshake and leaves the lunch room* *cell phone rings, King answers* King: ‘King here. What are you talking about? *pauses* I did exactly what I intended to do. *seems flustered* I don’t think you need to talk to me like that. *gets more angry* Well why don’t you come down here and run the department then, jeezus crimony.’ *hangs up* *stomps into his office and sits down to vent to himself* *wonders if things down in the jail are going well and contacts Roberto on his cell* King: ‘Roberto? Where are you?’ Roberto: ‘Sir, I needed to go get the prisoner a new set of stripes, he showered and forgot to get a fresh set afterwards.’ King: ‘Oh alright, but don’t leave him unattended very long, it is hard to tell what he may do next.’ Roberto: ‘I know sir, I am on my way back now.’ King: ‘Good, we need him to trust us here because otherwise I may get myself into some trouble.’ *hangs up on Roberto and gets up to shed his dress shirt* *closes the blinds to his office and locks his door* *he stares into a mirror in the corner of his office and bounces his huge pecs* King: ‘Mmmmm damn Marquez, you are looking fine my man. If I stand here too long I just might get off on myself.’ *starts to rub his thick chest and growls a little* King: ‘Phew, I just can’t help myself.’ *undoes his belt and unzips his dress pants and pulls them off* *flexes his huge quads and marvels at their thickness and power* *growls again as he pulls his underwear off and does a full body flex* King: ‘Ahh yeah I am looking so hot.’ *pinches his nipples and growls a little louder* *watches his huge cock get erect and bounce up and down before dripping a little precum* King: ‘COME ON MARQUEZ I KNOW YOU CAN SHOOT THAT LOAD.’ *wills his cock to cum without touching it as it squirts more precum this time on to the mirror* King: ‘YEAH RAWR, COME ON BIG MAN I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT. COME ON!’ *his cock begins to swell a little bigger as if it is about to grow* *he roars as he feels it building and drawing closer to the edge* King: ‘FUCK YEAH, OH YEAH, SHOOT THAT HUGE LOAD MARQUEZ. AWWW FUCK!’ *solid white ropes coat the entire mirror as he laughs at the sheer force it commands* *he moves the mirror into the nearby bathroom as he hears a knock on the door* *he races to put his outfit back on before he opens the door* King: ‘Just a minute, I need to get something done before I can help you.’ Ashe: ‘YOU BETTER OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I AM CALLING THE MAYOR!’ *realizes it is Ashe, the current city council chairman and former lover and gets up to open the door before he buttons up his dress shirt* King: ‘Eddie, what a pleasant surprise I…..’ *Ashe interrupts* Ashe: ‘Jerking off again Marc? Yep, I see the fucking puddle over here, when will you grow up? I feel sorry for your coworkers here. What a sty this is.’ King: ‘Well hello to you too. What brings you here today?’ *sits down in his chair while Ashe stands by the door* *Ashe looks irritated* Ashe: ‘Really? You do know I keep tabs on everything you do here. We do fund this department after all.’ King: ‘So…..is there a problem?’ *Ashe stares at him with that same irritated look* *King smiles and bounces his pecs* Ashe: ‘The money Marc. Where is the money going that we are giving you?’ *King bounces his pecs faster* *Ashe gets pissed* ‘STOP DOING THAT!’ King: ‘You used to always like it when I did that.’ *Ashe goes over to an empty chair and hesitates* *Decides to remain standing* Ashe: ‘I want answers right now damnit! What are you doing with….’ *King interrupts* King: ‘Research. We are using it on research……for the department.’ *Ashe looks puzzled* Ashe: ‘What? Are you kidding me? I want more specifics. What is this research that you are going on about?’ King: ‘Guys are getting hurt out in the field quite a bit so we started up a new program to look into a way to boost their performance and help prevent injuries.’ Ashe: *seems confused* ‘I don’t know what to think about that. You don’t normally lie to me so I guess I could buy that. Send me a copy of this ‘research program’ and I will talk to the council about sending you more funds.’ *stares at King’s chest and smirks* Ashe: ‘I admit, you do look amazing Marc. Are you on this program?’ King: *smiles and even laughs a little* ‘Maybe. Do you think it is working?’ *flexes his bicep and watches as it stretches his sleeve to its limits* ‘Keep watching…..’ *he squeezes his bicep until the sleeve splits* Ashe: *rolls eyes* ‘You haven’t changed at all dumbass. I will talk to you later.’ *leaves the office and closes the door* King: *talks to himself* ‘Hmmmm…..I didn’t think I would have feelings for Wyatt already. He is such a prime candidate for this program. I just wonder when he will start to show any type of transformation.’ *sits back in his chair and sighs* *he wonders if he will have to make a choice in the future of whether or not to let go of Wyatt or become his partner* At an Unknown Lab Institution: Chemist: *looks under microscope* ‘Hmmm….doesn’t seem right….Wincott where did this sample come from?’ Wincott: ‘Doctor I think it was sent here from the SVU department. Do you need me to call them and find out who it belongs to?’ Chemist: ‘Hold on a minute, I think I am getting some reaction here.’ *reaches for dropper filled with fortified sperm* *squeezes a little onto the slide* Chemist: ‘WHOA, Wincott get over here.’ Wincott: ‘Okay, what do you have there doctor?’ Chemist: ‘A delayed reaction is what we have here, take a look.’ *moves to allow his assistant to take a peek* Wincott: ‘Wow, this prisoner’s cells reacted violently when the sperm came in contact with them. Whose sperm is this anyway?’ Chemist: ‘Hmmm looks like Marquez King. How long has he been in the program?’ *checks logbook for verification* Wincott: ‘Quite a long time I imagine doctor.’ Chemist: *confirms date of entry* ‘Indeed Wincott. Sixteen years precedes the program by a mile. Wait? Sixteen years?’ *eyes get huge* ‘How is this possible?’ Wincott: ‘He would have had to of been a test subject to be from 1997, quite young in fact.’ Chemist: ‘We really need to talk to him because this is unreal.’ Wincott: ‘Wait doctor.’ *looks concerned* ‘It may not be wise to interfere in ‘his’ matters.’ Chemist: *seems confused* ‘Exactly who are you talking about Wincott?’ Wincott: *looks worried* ‘The headmaster doctor. He is the one responsible for starting this whole program. He has a small clan of men recruiting petty criminals so they can be experimented on. Obviously Marquez King is one of those men.’ Chemist: ‘Well, we have his sperm here Wincott and it is extraordinarily powerful. I still think we should talk to him. Get me an appointment to see him tomorrow.’ Wincott: *grabs cell phone* ‘Fine, but I won’t be involved in this. You are going to get yourself into a mountain of trouble doctor.’ *dials SVU* ‘I would like to speak to Officer King please.’ *transfer into King’s office* *King answers* King: *picks up office phone* ‘Who is this?’ Wincott: ‘Officer King, I am Devin Wincott from Sierra Labs. The head scientist of my research department would like to speak to you about your ‘sample’ you had sent to us for study. He wants to see you in person though.’ King: *smiles and makes a funny noise* ‘I almost forgot I sent that, sure I will speak to him. When does he want to come here?’ Wincott: ‘Tomorrow sir. Is this possible?’ King: ‘Sure, but I will have to go to a few meetings first. He can contact me in the late afternoon, I can’t give you a specific time because these meetings can sometimes last longer than they should.’ Wincott: ‘I will let him know officer, have a great day then.’ *clicks cell off as King hangs up* Chemist: ‘I heard what you said. Thank you Wincott for your assistance, your shift is over now I will talk to you tomorrow.’ *Wincott leaves the lab area and goes into the scrubs section* *someone follows him inside* *he turns and sees them staring at him* *he looks surprised, but not frightened* Wincott: ‘How did you get in here? I thought they took your credentials away from you?’ *the person sits down on a bench located across from the scrubs rack* *they start to speak* Person: ‘Don’t worry about me getting in here, I just need to know what Dr. Chizik is working on right now.’ Wincott: ‘He is using a sample from the SVU department and it contains some really powerful sperm too.’ Person: ‘Whose is it? Come on, you can tell me Devin we have a history you know.’ Wincott: ‘His name is Marquez King. He runs SVU and has some strong connections.’ Person: *keeps a straight face* ‘Thank you Devin I appreciate your cooperation.’ *hugs Wincott as he stands and even kisses him on the lips* ‘You know I really miss the good old days of us together in medical school.’ Wincott: ‘I miss them too Corbin. Is that all you needed was to know what Dr. Chizik was working on?’ Corbin: ‘Yes and I may be paying him a visit soon too.’ *turns to leave* *Wincott changes out of his scrubs and into civilian clothes* *Corbin walks out of lab facility and into his tinted car* *he dials a number on his cell and Bluetooth picks up call* Corbin: *speaks into Bluetooth* ‘Get me the headmaster. I need to speak to him.’ Computer: *HEADMASTER WALLACE FOUND* Corbin: ‘Sir are you there? This is Corbin Abrams.’ Headmaster: ‘It is about time you called me Abrams, what do you have for me?’ Corbin: ‘I got into Sierra Labs again. My ex, Devin Wincott is working with a chemist that has obtained a sample of an officer by the name of Marquez King, do you know him?’ Headmaster: ‘Hmmm Marquez King, I think I do Abrams. I want you to find out exactly what that chemist is doing with that sample and find out why that officer sent it to him in the first place.’ Corbin: ‘I will do that for you sir. Oh, I want to know when I will be privileged enough to enter the program.’ Headmaster: *pauses and laughs* ‘Don’t worry Abrams, your time will come. Just get to the bottom of this for me and we will go from there.’ Corbin: ‘Alright, it is an honor to serve you headmaster.’ Headmaster: ‘I am fortunate to have someone loyal like you too Abrams. I need you to hang up before someone tracks this call unless you are in the ‘car’.’ Corbin: ‘I am sir, but I will hang up anyway.’ Headmaster: ‘Good, get going then.’ Computer: *PHONE CALL ENDED* *Corbin drives off* *Headmaster Wallace stands in his study in his lakeside mansion* Wallace: *hears a knock on his door* ‘Come in and it better be good.’ Wife: ‘Edward, do you even care that our son is incarcerated for hitting that man?’ Wallace: ‘He has always fumbled through life Colette. It is time for him to figure out how to deal with something of this magnitude. Besides I’m not that worried about him.’ *Colette slams the door* *Wallace goes to look out onto his huge balcony and stares out into the lake* *he talks to himself* Wallace: ‘That boy doesn’t realize how special he is. I just hope that King doesn’t fuck this up or I will have to get rid of him permanently.’ *rolls his right hand over his face and silver beard* Wallace: ‘I sometimes wonder if all of this was really worth it. I mean I haven’t used the stuff for years.’ *realizes he is just talking to himself and smiles* ‘What am I doing? If that woman hears me saying this shit, she will fuck it up for good.’ *turns to go back inside the study and shuts the doors and closes the blinds*
  4. * FINALLY FINISHED * "Ah, so you're JP's big brother," Andrew realized, once he heard the caller's name. "It's good to meet you man: verbally at least." "It's good to meet you too Andrew," Ryan replied, fully aware that his former coach could hear them. He didn't give voice to his thoughts: I don't want to be known as JP's brother; I'm my own man! "Once Tyler told me all about you, I looked you up on that new YouTube site and saw all your videos. You're an awesome football player man, and you'll have no trouble getting a full ride to any school you want!" "Thanks man," Andrew said, pleased that Ryan had told him how he had found out all about him. "I'm glad to have one fan at least." "Much more than just one, considering all the views your videos got," Ryan assured him sincerely. "That's part of the reason my college coach wanted me to call Coach Palmer and arrange this phone call. My coach told me to tell you that he's going to arrange an Unofficial Recruiting Visit down here for you the next time you're in Virginia." "That's very flattering man; thank him for me," Andrew said. "I'll have to give you the contact information for my high school football coach back in Orillia. He can coordinate with your college football coach to arrange everything for the visit." "It wasn't just your online videos that put you on his radar Andrew," Ryan informed him. "He also took note of your impressive performance at the football camps you attended this spring." "Well I'm glad I wasn't easy to miss," Andrew said seriously. "After all, I was among dozens of other high school football players at those camps, and I think I was the only Canadian there." "You're impossible to miss Andrew," Ryan assured him . "My coach told me that when he saw you in March, you weighed 275 pounds and stood 6 foot 7 inches tall." "Those were my old stats," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. He noticed Coach Palmer edging away to give him some privacy and added, "I'm bigger now." "How much do you weigh now Andrew?" Ryan asked him, sounding a little nervous. "305 pounds of solid muscle," Andrew replied, having detected a hint of fear in Ryan's voice. "It was a great day when I reached the average weight of an NFL lineman." "That's awesome man; I'm really happy for you," Ryan said sincerely. "Coach Palmer's no longer in hearing range Ryan; tell me how you really feel," Andrew said, just to test him. "I have been man," Ryan said seriously, hearing the slight hint of menace in Andrew's voice. I'm going to have to watch myself with him, he thought to himself. He sounds like he's just as smart as my little brother! "My coach told me that your performance at the spring football camps led to you getting offers for Unofficial Recruiting Visits throughout the Midwest." "Starting with Ohio State tomorrow," Andrew said, deliberately dropping the name of JP's hopeful college. "When do I get to meet you in person Ryan?" "You'll have to wait until your Unofficial Recruiting Visit at Virginia Tech," Ryan replied. "My coach asked me if I would be willing to be your campus guide, and I'd be glad to do it." "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, getting the feeling that Ryan was a really great guy under his cocky jock exterior. "You know, I just thought of a way we can see each other face-to-face even if we're probably dozens of miles apart." "You're right man, I'm in Harrisonburg off I-81 right now," Ryan agreed. "How can we see each other face-to-face without being in the same room?" he asked. "On Skype man," Andrew replied. "I have it on my laptop. Do you have it on yours?" "Sure I do man," Ryan replied with a big grin, getting excited at the notion of seeing just how big and muscular Andrew truly was. "Do you want to talk later once you get back to your hotel room?" "That sounds like a great idea," Andrew replied, anxious to see what the famous Ryan Maloney looked like. "It's a much better way for two new friends to chat long distance than on Instant Messenger." He heard a long silence on the other end of the line and hastily added, "If you want to be friends, that is." "That's fine with me Andrew," Ryan agreed eagerly. "It would be great to get to know you better and find out how you got so big and strong. Coach told me that you can bench 700 pounds for reps!" "Yeah, that's only because I couldn't find enough weight plates in your home gym to get to my max of 800 pounds tonight," Andrew said cockily. "Hopefully the gym at Virginia Tech has enough weight plates to challenge me." "Wow!" Ryan shouted in astonishment after another long silence. "You're insanely strong man; I bet you can bust through any defensive line effortlessly!" "Yeah I can man, but I always help the other players up afterwards to be a good sport," Andrew said seriously. "No sense being a sore winner." "I've heard of sore losers, but what's a sore winner?" Ryan asked curiously. "A sore winner is someone who gloats about his victory, acting cocky and arrogant as he rubs his success in other people's faces," Andrew replied. He decided to be completely honest with Ryan about his younger brother and added, "Kind of like how JP was during his last workout with you this spring." "So he told you about that, did he?" Ryan asked angrily. "No, I kind of tricked it out of him," Andrew replied. "I'll tell you more when we chat on Skype tonight, but I'd better text you my contact information on Skype now." "Don't forget your cell phone number Andrew, and ask Coach Palmer for mine," Ryan reminded him. "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, pleased that he and Ryan could keep in touch. "You know, it might be hard for you to confirm you got the text while you're on the phone with me," he suddenly realized. "Do you have a notepad you can write on instead?" "Good idea man; yeah I do," Ryan replied. After a few seconds, he said, "Go ahead Big Guy, I'm ready." Andrew quickly gave him all the required information and then Ryan returned the favour, once Andrew pulled out his cell phone. "I've got all your contact information Ryan," Andrew said. "I'll text you when I get back to my hotel and then we can meet face-to-face on Skype." "I look forward to it Andrew," Ryan said sincerely. "Get Coach Palmer back on the phone. I want to thank him for arranging this cell phone call with you this evening." "That's a good idea Ryan," Andrew said, signalling Coach Palmer to come closer. Once Coach Palmer stepped up beside him, Andrew added, "It was great talking to you man; I'll see you on Skype later tonight." "Goodbye Andrew," Ryan said, before Andrew handed Coach Palmer's cell phone back to him. Andrew waited patiently while Ryan filled Coach Palmer in on all that he had discussed with Andrew. Once the call was over, Coach Palmer turned to Andrew and said, "Very good Andrew: now you have another Unofficial Recruiting Visit lined up for this summer, hosted by one of my best players no less! Ryan thinks a lot of you and he'll be very happy to host a big man like you on campus!" "Yeah, and I'll enjoy being hosted by the Big Man on Campus," Andrew said with a big grin. "Very funny Andrew, making a play on my words like that!" Coach Palmer chuckled. "Hey, I don't just have brawn, I actually have brains as well!" Andrew reminded him with a cocky smirk. "I know that now Andrew," Coach Palmer assured him with an indulgent smile. "But since we're standing on the football field, how about you show me just how skilled you are at using your brawn. I can see that you're already prepared, since you're holding your football." He noticed Andrew's cocky smirk morph into a confident grin and added, "I'll use my digital camera to capture your performance on the field and then I can send that video to Ryan's college coach." Andrew nodded in agreement and slowly took off his football jacket. "Would you mind putting my jacket on the fence behind you Coach? I don't want it to get dirty." "You just want to leave the back of your Varsity Jacket free for a Provincial Championship patch, don't you?" Coach Palmer realized with a big grin. When Andrew nodded, he added, "Then you'd better take off your t-shirt as well, then you won't get it dirty either." Andrew grinned with excitement at the prospect of showing off his huge muscles and slowly began to peel off his skin-tight t-shirt, disguising the effort to make it look like a show for the coach. Coach Palmer's eyes widened in astonishment and more than a little fear at Andrew's massive shoulders, huge pecs, enormous biceps and eight-pack abs. "Uhhh... that's great Andrew, now jog across the field to the other end zone so that I can throw you the ball," Coach Palmer stammered. "You can catch a hundred yard pass, can't you?" "If you can throw the ball that far Coach," Andrew teased him. "I certainly can Andrew; I just hope you can run that far," Palmer said, taking the Miami Football out of Andrew's hands. "Move it Mister: that's an order!" "Yes Sir!" Andrew shouted eagerly, running down the field with huge strong strides. Coach Palmer cocked his arm back, marshalled all his strength and threw the football as high and as far as he could. He followed the flight of the ball as it arced through the air and had to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun in the west. He finally saw Andrew catch the football at the opposite end zone and he realized at that moment that none of the videos he had seen of Andrew's performance on the football field had been exaggerated. ================================================================================================================================================= Meanwhile, in a hotel room in Harrisonburg, Virginia, off Interstate 81, a strikingly handsome jock with jet black hair and piercing green eyes stood up from the couch by the window and grinned. Perfect, Ryan Maloney thought to himself. I'll be able to learn from my new friend Andrew Pearson how to get really huge and strong. With any luck, he'll pick my school over Ohio State and then we can be right beside each other on the Offensive Line. Ryan frowned as he suddenly realized something. Once I get big enough that the coach lets me play, of course. But then he grinned again when he realized that he had found the perfect reason to give Andrew for why he wanted to get bigger and stronger. He'll never know that I just want to get big enough that my little dweeb brother can never get close to beating me in anything ever again! "Who were you talking to out here Ryan?" Luke asked, stepping out of the washroom after his shower. "One of my brother's friends man," Ryan replied, turning to face his smaller friend with a smug grin on his face. "Is he a dorky band geek like your brother?" Luke asked with a sneer. "No man, in fact he's big enough to make you look like a runt," Ryan replied with a slight glare. He maximized the YouTube Video he had been watching of Andrew before Coach Palmer had texted him. "See for yourself man; keep an eye on number 3: Andrew Pearson," he said, as he sat back down on the couch. Luke and Ryan watched the highlight video of the 2004 Provincial Championship game between Andrew's team, the ODCVI Blues from Orillia, and the Eastview Wildcats from Barrie. "Wow man!" Luke shouted in astonishment once the video had ended. "You've got to convince your coach at Tech to get Andrew down there for an Unofficial Recruiting Visit this summer." "Already done man, after Tyler told me all about him," Ryan said with a cocky smirk. "And guess who gets to host him for his visit!" "You mean, you're going to be the host?" Luke asked him in surprise. "Of course man, who else?" Ryan scoffed. "Who better to host an incoming freshman than a current freshman?" He left out the part where his Tech coach had reminded him that all Redshirt Freshmen had to act as student hosts for incoming freshman prospects. "Once I showed this video to Coach, he told me to call my high school coach and set up a phone call with Andrew. And thanks to Coach Palmer calling Coach Graves, who called my dad, JP ended up bringing Andrew over to Central High School this evening. Once he got Andrew alone, Coach Palmer texted me and I called him and got to speak to Andrew. He's a really great football player, as you could see from the highlight videos." "Hey maybe you and Andrew can become teammates on the Offensive Line next fall and win a college football championship," Luke suggested. "Yeah, and maybe Andrew can show me how to get as huge and ripped as he is!" Ryan shouted in excitement, flexing his massive biceps. "Then I can leave that little dweeb brother of mine in the dust once and for all!" "That would be awesome man!" Luke shouted in excitement. "Then when you go home for Christmas you can give that brother of yours the worst present he's ever had!" "Yeah, the present of my awesome presence!" Ryan shouted, proving that Andrew wasn't the only smart guy in the state. "How will you convince Andrew to help you get bigger without revealing the real reason?" Luke suddenly asked. "Easy, I'll just tell him the truth: my coach at Tech won't let me play until I'm a lot bigger and stronger," Ryan said smugly. "Andrew will never realize that I just want to get huge to dominate my little brother so completely that he'll shrivel up and rot just like a little raisin!" "Sounds like you've got it all figured out," Luke realized. "So, enough talk; you want to head out and see what kind of summer parties JMU has to offer?" "Sure man, and maybe I can find a hot chick who wants a piece of me," Ryan sneered with a suggestive smirk. "I'll keep my cell on vibrate so that when Andrew texts me, I can get back here and see him on Skype." "You want me to come back with you?" Luke asked, as they headed out the door. "Naw man, I want to see him alone," Ryan replied. "If he sees two of us, he might think something's up when I ask him if he'll help me get bigger like him." Luke nodded in agreement as they headed down the hall. Ryan breathed a silent sigh of relief, relieved that Luke hadn't figured out the true reason that Ryan wanted to speak to Andrew alone: so that no one could horn in on the new friendship that he was hoping to form with JP's new mentor. ================================================================================================================================================= Andrew had been showing off his football skills for ten minutes, so neither he nor Coach Palmer noticed JP coming out of the high school gym. Andrew threw his football from the far end of the field to Coach Palmer, but he threw it too far and it hit JP in the chest before he could catch it. "Are you okay JP?" Palmer asked as JP fell onto his back. But then he grinned as JP rolled through the fall and back to his feet. "I guess you are okay," he realized, noticing the cocky smirk on JP's face. "Sure I am Coach; it will take a lot more than a 120 yard pass to hurt me," JP assured him; relieved that his high pain tolerance had allowed him to withstand the impact of the football. "That's the furthest I've ever seen anyone throw a football though; even Clark Kent on Smallville last season restricted himself to 60 yard passes!" "Andrew outweighs Clark by at least 80 pounds of solid muscle," Palmer said, grinning at JP's huge friend as he jogged shirtless across the field towards them. His jaw dropped in astonishment as Andrew stopped in front of him and he could only stare in awe at the sweat glistening on the body of the hulking muscle god in front of him. "Uh, very good job Andrew: your football skills are very impressive," he managed to stammer out. He turned to JP, whose eyes were as wide as his own and asked, "What did you think of Andrew's performance on the field tonight?" "It was amazing Coach; I can see why you wanted to see him tonight," JP realized. He noticed the digital camera in Palmer's hands and added, "It looks like you got a lot of good footage of Andrew's football skills. Which school are you going to send it to?" Coach Palmer and Andrew looked at each other uncertainly, unsure how to answer JP's question without making him mad. "Are you going to tell him Coach, or should I?" Andrew finally asked Coach Palmer. "Tell me what?" JP snapped, guessing that there could only be one reason why they so reluctant to name the school. "It's Virginia Tech JP," Coach Palmer replied, gambling that his position as Head Football Coach would keep him safe from JP's wrath. He was right, because all JP did was narrow his eyes slightly in anger. "I'll let Andrew tell you all about it; I've got everything I need," he added, holding up his digital camera. "See you later JP and nice meeting you Andrew." With that, Coach Palmer beat a hasty retreat into the high school, leaving Andrew alone to face JP. Andrew looked over cautiously at JP, who was glaring at him with a look of fury on his face. "Go ahead JP; let me have it for talking to your brother and then I can explain how it happened," Andrew sighed. "I ought to punch you in the face for even talking to Ryan, knowing how much I hate him!" JP snapped. "Fine, do it if you think it 'll make you feel better!" Andrew snapped back. "It won't make any difference to me; I probably won't feel it anyway!" JP roared in fury and lunged at Andrew, his right fist leading the way. SMACK! JP punched Andrew in the face with all his strength. To make his smaller friend feel better, Andrew let his head snap around from the blow, even though he didn't feel a thing. Encouraged by thinking that he had actually hurt Andrew, JP kept punching Andrew in the face, making his big friend's head rock back and forth. Andrew didn't even stumble or flinch though, and eventually JP got tired. He stopped punching Andrew in the face and settled for kneeing him in the gut instead. Soon JP's hands began to ache from punching Andrew's tough jaw and his knees felt like they had impacted a concrete wall. JP ignored the pain for a couple more minutes and kept hitting Andrew in the abs until he finally tired out and he was no longer mad. "Feel better now JP?" Andrew asked, breathing a sigh of relief that JP had stopped attacking him. Hopefully he got some of the rage at his brother out of his system by attacking me! "You look tired." "Yeah I am Andrew," JP replied, smiling when he noticed Andrew rubbing his chin with one hand and his abs with the other. As he tried to catch his breath, he added, "I'm glad I was able to hurt you a bit; that means that I'll be able to wipe the floor with Ryan the next time I see him!" "Good JP, can we go now?" Andrew asked him impatiently. "Or did you want to throw my football around for a while on an actual football field?" "That would be great Andrew," JP said excitedly. "You always know what to say to make me feel better." "And apparently I know what to do as well, since letting you punch me several times calmed you down," Andrew realized with a gentle smile. "What do you mean by 'letting' me?" JP asked him in surprise. "I mean that I could have caught all your punches if I had wanted to," Andrew replied, crossing his massive arms with a smug grin. Then he noticed JP frowning, so he decided to cheer him up. "But I figured that it would make you feel better if I acted as your human punching bag. Anytime you want to let out your frustrations by doing it again, just let me know man. Or don't; it won't matter to me because I barely felt anything anyway." "Thanks a lot Andrew; now you've made me feel worse!" JP snapped at him. "Sorry about that man, but you punched me, not the other way around," Andrew reminded him with a cocky grin. "But you don't hear me complaining about it!" "That's because you just admitted that I barely hurt you!" JP snapped in fury. "That's because I'm almost twice your size JP," Andrew reminded him. When JP glared at him, Andrew sighed and added, "But if it makes you feel any better, you did hurt me a little bit." "Not enough Andrew!" JP yelled in fury. "How am I supposed to take Ryan down if I can't even make you wince when I punch you?" "I outweigh Ryan by almost a hundred pounds," Andrew reminded him, having to clench his fists to keep from snapping back at JP. JP grinned: suddenly feeling better and Andrew grinned back at him. "Now can I tell you how I ended up talking with Ryan over the phone?" "Yes Andrew," JP replied, suddenly realizing how lucky he was that he hadn't made his huge friend mad. Andrew told him the whole story and concluded by telling JP that he would show Ryan just how big he was on Skype later that night. Then he and JP finally got to throw the football around on the field for about an hour. Andrew showed JP some of the football drills he went through as an Offensive Lineman at ODCVI. JP smiled to himself, really happy that Andrew was playing football with him: something Ryan had never done. Once they were done, it was 10 pm and getting dark. The lights around the field came on and Andrew had an idea. He stood under the uprights near his car and said, "So this is what the Friday Night Lights look like." "It's Tuesday night Andrew," JP teased him with a smirk. "Funny man JP; it was a figure of speech and you know it!" Andrew laughed. "Speaking of figures, you certainly make an imposing one with the lights behind you," JP suddenly realized, a trace of fear showing up on his face. "Then take a picture of me with my game face on," Andrew ordered him, getting down into his three point stance with one hand holding his football. Andrew glared up at the camera as if he was about to take down his opponent and JP quickly took the picture, feeling very afraid of his huge friend at that moment. "Okay Andrew, how about we try one with you smiling?" JP suggested, trying unsuccessfully to keep the fear out of his voice. "Sorry about that JP; I didn't mean to scare you," Andrew apologized. He grinned up at JP, who took another picture, and then stood up to his full height of six feet and seven inches. "There now JP: we've played football, taken some pictures, met your wrestling coach and you've used me as a human punching bag. Are you ready to go home now?" "Yeah Andrew, and I'm really excited about tomorrow's recruiting visit to Ohio State," JP said with a big grin on his face. "The Ohio State JP," Andrew teased him, finally putting his t-shirt back on. He noticed JP mock-glaring at him and laughed. "Don't look at me like that man; you're the one who corrected me about that earlier today!" "You're right Andrew," JP realized, as they headed to Andrew's truck with their Varsity Jackets slung over their shoulders. As they reached Andrew's truck, he asked, "So what are you going to do when you get back to your hotel with Carrie and Mike?" "I'm going to call Ryan on-" Andrew began, before having to catch JP's fist in mid-punch. "Don't try that again JP: you've hit me enough for one night," Andrew growled in fury. He gave JP's fist a slight squeeze until JP winced in pain. "Do you get the point now man? I can catch your punches anytime I want to!" "Yes Andrew, I've got it!" JP gasped in pain. "Can you let me go now?" "Sure man; I've made my point," Andrew replied, releasing his iron grip on JP's fist. JP massaged his sore hand and Andrew said, "Why do you insist on asking questions that you don't want to hear the answer to?" "I don't know Andrew," JP replied, as they got into Andrew's truck. "I guess I'm just too curious for my own good." "Yeah, you seem to have forgotten that cautionary tale about the cat who was too curious," Andrew realized. "Don't even joke about that Andrew!" JP begged him. Andrew looked over and a look of concern came over his face when he saw how scared JP looked. "Aroused, your great physical strength could kill! And I only felt a tiny sample of it when you squeezed my fist!" "I'm sorry about that man, but you made me mad for a moment there," Andrew informed him. "I was in a really bad mood all last fall and the results weren't pretty." "Why was that Andrew?" JP asked, as Andrew started driving them back to JP's house. "My grandpa had a stroke last fall, just after I graduated Basic Reserves Training," Andrew replied. "I was really worried about him during football season, since he was confined to a wheelchair and could barely speak. Fortunately, my parents were able to bring him to every game, but then my nemesis David Harrington insulted him and I just lost it and punched him in the face, giving him a bloody nose. The next punch knocked him out. If Steve, Darrel and Mike hadn't pulled me away, I would have killed him with my bare hands!" JP just stared at Andrew in speechless terror as his big friend's face turned red with fury and his hands turned white on the steering wheel. Andrew looked over at JP, still furious from the bad memories, and saw the look of terror on his face. He started taking a few deep breaths to calm down and was relieved to see the normal look of confidence return to JP's face. JP wisely decided to wait until Andrew had calmed down completely before he asked, "What happened next Andrew?" "Coach Everson suspended me for two games and my parents chewed me out hard when we got back home," Andrew remembered, looking embarrassed. "I actually stayed in a hotel that weekend, not wanting to deal with anyone. Then when I got home from school on Monday evening, my dad informed me that my Grandpa (his dad, not my mom's) had suffered another massive stroke and was now confined to a hospital bed. I could see in his eyes that my dad blamed me for that, since Grandpa Pearson had attended the game where I took David out for insulting him. I felt really bad and I visited Grandpa every weekend after that, now that I had seen the damage my bad temper had caused." "It wasn't your fault Andrew," JP tried to assure his big friend. "It was probably just a coincidence that your grandpa had another stroke around the same time that you were punching David." "That's not true JP; he had the stroke at the game right after I attacked David!" Andrew shouted in frustration. "My rage stressed him out so badly that it caused his second stroke and put him in that hospital bed!" JP just stared at his big friend in sympathy, not having a clue what to say when he realized what an incredible burden of guilt Andrew had been carrying around for almost a year. Andrew sighed as a tear ran down his cheek and he and JP just drove in silence for a few minutes while he tried to compose himself. "What happened next Andrew?" JP asked his huge friend gently. "Coach Everson let me play in the Semi-Final and then the Provincial Championship Game," Andrew replied. "Unfortunately, the O-Line had learned some new plays under the back-up Center that I wasn't familiar with and we lost the Provincial Championship Game in the last second due to a missed field goal because David deflected it. I managed to control my temper about that but I broke down in my grandpa's hospital room as I told him a day later. He couldn't say a word, but he did reach over with his one good arm to grab my hand. I promised him that I would win the next Provincial Championship for him and he smiled. Then he fell asleep and I went home. We got the news the next morning that he had passed away during the night." "So you were the last person to see him and he went to heaven happy," JP guessed. "Yeah man," Andrew said with a gentle smile. "And now you know everything about last season and why I'm not really a cocky jock anymore." JP nodded in understanding. "You're the only one who knows everything I've told you, besides Carrie of course, and I want it to stay that way." JP nodded in understanding, realizing how much Andrew thought of him that he would reveal his innermost secrets. "Do you have anything else to tell me Andrew, or is that it?" JP asked. "That's it JP," Andrew replied, glancing over at his friend with a gentle smile. "I think we're even now, since you told me everything about you and Ryan earlier this evening." JP tried to keep the anger he felt at hearing the name of his big brother from showing on his face, because he remembered how easily Andrew had shut down his attempt to punch him earlier. I'd better be on my best behavior with Andrew; he could crush me with one hand tied behind his back! JP realized in sudden fear. Then he thought of something that made him smile. "Getting excited about the trip to the Ohio State tomorrow JP?" Andrew asked him. "Yeah Andrew," JP replied, not letting his huge friend know that he was actually thinking of how scared Ryan would be when he saw how big Andrew was. "I'm really grateful that you're taking me to see the school I hope to wrestle at in my college years." "No problem JP; Mark did it for me, so I'm returning the favour in a deflected manner," Andrew informed him. When JP looked at him with confusion, Andrew explained that his first protégé Mark Stevenson had invited Andrew along on his Official Recruiting Visits during the previous football season. "So in a way, Ohio State is already aware of me, because I went there with Mark on his Official Recruiting Visit almost one year ago," Andrew explained to JP. "Did you mentor him just so you could get early exposure to the NCAA?" JP teased him. Andrew glared over at him in mock fury, but a slight grin betrayed his true feelings. "Just joking Big Guy." "Hey, I told you before, you call me 'Huge Guy' JP!" Andrew roared, unable to keep a cocky grin from appearing on his face. JP laughed and the two of them continued joking around until they got back to JP's house. Once they got to JP's house, they parked in the driveway and Andrew turned to JP. "Thanks a lot for listening to everything I told you about last season without judgement JP," Andrew said gratefully. "You're a great friend." "Thanks Andrew; you are too," JP said, as his parents came out of the house. As he and Andrew got out of Andrew's truck, he said, "Coach Graves got in touch with all the wrestling coaches at each school we're going to, so I'll be having my own early Unofficial Recruiting Visits while you have yours." "Good job man; taking a page out of my book I see," Andrew said with a smug grin. He turned to his friends, who had come out of the house after JP's parents and asked them, "Did you guys have lots of fun with Matt and JP's parents while we were gone?" "Yeah man," Mike replied. "JP's parents were bragging about him while he was gone, showing us his wrestling photos, newspaper articles, trophies and his District Finalist Medal from last season." "I hope we can see a State Championship Medal from you next season JP," Mr. Maloney said with a frown. "You will Dad," JP assured him, trying to make his determination show on his face. "But in the meantime, I will have to show off my District Finalist Medal to the Ohio State Wrestling Coaches tomorrow." "Yeah, when I called Coach Graves and told him which schools Andrew was taking you to, he said that he would get in touch with the wrestling coaches at those schools," Mr. Maloney said proudly. "Yeah he showed me all the emails from them, in which they expressed their hope that I would talk to them while I'm on campus this week," JP said with a cocky smirk. "So I told Coach to say 'Yes, he'll be glad to meet you there' and he added my cell phone number to the email replies. Then the coaches can text me with the details." "And all this wouldn't have happened if Andrew hadn't offered to take you with him on his recruiting visits," Mrs. Maloney said, reaching up to put a hand on Andrew's massive shoulder. Andrew looked very embarrassed as JP's parents ushered Andrew inside to talk to him some more. "Where's your mom Matt?" JP asked, finally noticing that she was missing from the group. "She already went home, after leaving a packed suitcase here for me," Matt replied. "What did you and Andrew do at the high school?" JP ushered him into the house so that they could talk, leaving Mike and Carrie standing outside on the front walk. "Do you feel that we've been forgotten by Andrew over the last couple of days?" Mike asked Carrie. "No more than the past three years when Andrew spent a lot of time mentoring his current teammates," Carrie reminded him. "He didn't have to mentor you of course; your big brother Matt did a lot of that, as well as training Andrew for football before high school." "Yeah, Matt's mentoring of me and Andrew got us ready for high school football so that we played on the Varsity Team even during our Freshman Year," Mike remembered. "Of course, Coach Everson had Andrew be the back-up to Carl, the Centre, that year. Then Carl left for Miami and Andrew took over at Centre in Grade Ten." "Good thing too, because the college recruiting started just last year: Andrew's second season as Centre," Carrie reminded him. Mike grinned and nodded, and Carrie added, "I'm a little surprised that no college coaches have recruited me for Girl's Hockey yet." "Ask to meet the Girl's Hockey coaches at each school we visit and you'll find lots of recruiters visiting you this fall," Mike predicted. Carrie grinned at Mike: pleased that for all his big muscles, he hadn't lost any of the intelligence that had let him tutor Andrew and Phil in exchange for weight training years ago. Carrie and Mike chatted outside for a few more minutes and then went into the Maloney house, where they found almost everyone talking in the living room. As Carrie looked around, she noticed that Andrew and JP were not there. "Where are Andrew and JP?" she asked Mr. Maloney. "JP took Andrew up to his room to show off all his wrestling newspaper stories and trophies," Paul replied proudly. Carrie nodded in understanding: pleased that Andrew had found another protégé after not having one the previous year. Up in his bedroom, JP was proudly showing Andrew all the newspaper clippings and trophies from his high school wrestling career. "This is very impressive JP; you have really achieved great athletic success in only two years," Andrew congratulated him. "And you're a District Finalist as well." "Probably nothing compared to what you've achieved Andrew; you actually won the District Title." "Yeah, but this coming wrestling season, you'll win the State Title JP," Andrew predicted with an encouraging smile. JP smiled as Andrew had once again made him feel better. "What did you want to do now Andrew?" "Help you pack for the college road trip that starts next week, but perhaps I should see Ryan's room first." "What for Andrew?" JP asked with an angry look on his face. "I want an objective view of the kind of guy he is," Andrew replied. "A look in his room is the best glance I will get at his character since he probably decorated it himself." "Fine, let's get it over with so that we can plan our trip," JP agreed reluctantly. He led Andrew to Ryan's room and opened the door, revealing all the posters of scantily-clad women all over the walls. "Well, that certainly reveals Ryan's true character with one look," Andrew realized. "On my walls at home, I have football players banging heads on the field." "So now you see how different you and Ryan are, which explains why I think of you as my big brother instead of him," JP explained, closing Ryan's door again. Andrew nodded and followed JP back to his room to help him pack for the road trip. About an hour later, Andrew and his two friends said goodbye to JP and his family and headed back to their hotel. Once there, Andrew told Carrie that he wanted to talk to JP's brother on Skype. "Okay Andrew, I'll just go have a shower before bed," Carrie said. "Have fun talking to your new friend." Andrew had told her all about his talk with Ryan earlier that evening. "I will Carrie, and I'm going to wear my ODCVI football t-shirt so that he can see just how big and strong I am," Andrew said with a smirk. "Fine, have fun playing 'Who's the Alpha' with Ryan," Carrie laughed. "See you later Big Man," "That's 'Huge Man' to you 'Little Girl'," Andrew teased her with a mock glare. Carrie laughed and headed into the bathroom to have her shower. Andrew pulled out his Motorola Razor and texted Ryan. Then he activated Skype and waited. ================================================================================================================================================= Meanwhile, at a club in Harrisonburg, Virginia, Ryan's cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket with a frown. "Sorry babe, I've been expecting this text," he apologized to the hot girl he was in the middle of kissing. He read the text and grinned when he realized that Andrew was ready to start their Skype Chat. "I'm going to talk to my new friend, and he'll show me how to get even bigger and stronger for you next time," he promised her emptily. Ryan stepped back and quickly found Luke so that he could tell him where he was going. Then he headed out of the club, after promising to pick Luke up later, and drove back to their hotel to talk to Andrew. Perfect, Ryan thought to himself as he drove. Andrew will teach me how to become really big and strong so that I can give the girls more pleasure than they've ever dreamed of! And I'll be big enough to smash that dweeb brother of mine into pieces, as well as all opposing players in the games this season! Ryan was still grinning about his foolproof strategy to get Andrew's help when he pulled into the hotel parking lot. He stepped out of his car, put on his best arrogant jock face, and sauntered into the lobby, grinning like a cat at all the pretty girls he passed by. But this time, he didn't talk to any of them, he was too eager to see his new friend Andrew face-to-face. Once he got up to his hotel room, he went inside, opened up his laptop and activated Skype. As the image on the screen resolved into focus, Ryan's jaw dropped as he saw what was on the screen. ================================================================================================================================================ Andrew smirked as he saw the look of shock on the face of the black-haired, green-eyed jock on his laptop screen. "Ryan Maloney?" Andrew asked, just to make sure he was talking to the right person. The big guy on the screen nodded silently; still too shocked to speak. "I'm JP's new friend Andrew Pearson." He waited for almost a minute before Ryan got up his nerve to finally say something. "How are you man?" "Oh just fine; I had lots of fun on the Central High football field showing off my football skills for Coach Palmer," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. Part of him realized he probably shouldn't act so cocky, but then he realized that he had finally found someone who would approve of him acting like an arrogant jock. "I threw a pass that went the entire length of the field and knocked JP off his feet when he tried to catch it!" Ryan's look of shock intensified and then a fleeting look of concern appeared on his face. It was quickly erased by an arrogant smirk, however. "Did that little dweeb run home and cry to Mommy about it?" he sneered. "Be careful Ryan; that's my new protégé you're talking about," Andrew warned him, his protective instincts flaring up. "And he told me how he was once yours." "Yeah he was," Ryan said, remembering his last workout with JP less than fondly. "Sorry about that Andrew; my brother and I just don't get along anymore." "Did you want to talk about it Ryan?" Andrew asked. "It won't go any further than the two of us, since my girlfriend isn't in here with me." "Okay Andrew, and then we can talk about more exciting things: like your upcoming recruiting visit to Virginia Tech," Ryan agreed. "And I will email you the video that Coach Palmer emailed me of my exploits on the Central High School football field," Andrew offered. "Then you can forward it to your football coach at Tech." "Good thinking Andrew," Ryan agreed. He began telling Andrew about how his little brother JP had followed him around everywhere all his life and then started bugging him about working out when he got to high school. So Ryan began teaching him how to work out, but he never imagined JP would take to it so well and get close to surpassing him. So Ryan gradually removed himself from his brother's workouts, especially after the events of three months before, and their relationship was practically non-existent since then. "That sounds rough man," Andrew said sympathetically, realizing that JP felt the same way. "I went through something similar with one of my good friends about seven years ago." "Tell me about it Andrew; I can listen while I watch the video you sent me," Ryan said, opening up the email attachment. So Andrew told Ryan all about his failed friendship with Steve, basically repeating word-for-word the same things he had told JP the night before. Like JP before him, Ryan was amazed at how similar his experiences were to Andrew's. "So what do you think Ryan?" Andrew asked, once he had finished telling Ryan everything. "That's an amazing story Andrew, and I can see that we have a lot more in common than just being great football players," Ryan replied sincerely. All thoughts of acting like an arrogant jock in front of Andrew were gone, and he felt that he could finally be himself with his new friend, which was a great relief for him. "Your video is amazing as well, and my coach at Tech will be really excited to see it." "More excited than you are Ryan?" Andrew teased him, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah man," Ryan replied with a big grin. "But I'm excited to meet you in person as well, and I'll talk to Coach and get an Unofficial Recruiting Visit set up for you at Tech later this summer." "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, sensing that their conversation was wrapping up. "Well, I look forward to it, but right now, I'm going to have a shower and go to bed. Do you want me to say hi to JP for you when I see him again tomorrow morning?" "No Andrew, I will when I see him again," Ryan replied seriously. "And do me a favour." "What's that Ryan?" Andrew asked him. "Don't talk about my brother anymore with me unless I ask you about him," Ryan said. "No problem Ryan," Andrew agreed. "Text me later if you want to have another Skype chat." "I will man; just email me your travel plans so I know where you'll be tomorrow night," Ryan said. "Sure thing man; talk to you later," Andrew said, preparing to sign off. "See you Andrew," Ryan said, just before he ended the conversation. Andrew sat back in his desk chair and stared at the blank screen for a moment: thinking hard. Hopefully one day I'll be there when Ryan and JP have fixed their relationship and then I won't have to choose which one to be friends with, he thought to himself. Then he heard Carrie calling him from the bathroom. "Andrew, I'm ready to have another shower: this time with you!" Andrew grinned, stood up, and headed into the bathroom, looking forward to having lots of fun with his girlfriend before they went to bed. * FINALLY FINISHED * COMING SOON: - The Road Trip to Ohio State - The Ohio State Recruiting Visit itself - JP gets a head start on his own college recruiting process thanks to Andrew My website page for this chapter: http://seanspictures.webs.com has a picture from Google of what I imagine Ryan would look like. Just click on the link for Chapter 5 and go halfway down to see it.
  5. This story is Chapter 2 of Andrew Meets JP in Washington DC. It will be made up of the last part of JP Episode 20 and the first part of JP Episode 21. Before I had written Chapter 1 a couple of months ago, I secured his permission to use JP in my story: https://muscle-growth.org/index.php?app=members&module=messaging&section=view&do=showCoversation&topicID=23174 Remember, the JP Episodes are told from Matt's point of view and my story is told from Andrew and JP's point of view. Since copy and paste STILL won't work for me in this forum, this will be a chapter in progress. As before, the JP STORY sections will be separated from mine by a line of equal signs: =============================================== ANDREW'S RECRUITING SUMMER CHAPTER 2: REVELATIONS From: JP EPISODE 20: THE MORNING AFTER (July 5th, 2005): After briefly washing up in the bathroom, we headed downstairs and into the kitchen. There, my mom greeted us like she always did when JP slept over - with a glowing smile and a huge serving of breakfast. "Good morning, boys," she gleamed, rubbing JP's extremely short hair with her hand. "It's nice to see your hair beginning to grow back in. I practically died when you shaved it." JP bit his lip, avoiding my mom's smile. He had become like a second son to her, which only subjected him to her torturous criticisms. "Promise me never to cut that beautiful head of hair God gave you." My boyfriend laughed. "I promise, Mrs. Andersson." "I hope scrambled eggs are fine with you," she commented. We gestured that they were great, having already dove into our plates. I had never felt hungrier in my life. "I made a lot. I'm sure you two are starving from all that excitement last night." I almost choked on my food when she said that. JP looked over at me, grinning wildly. Luckily, my mom's back was to us, so she didn't pick up on it. I knew she was talking about the fireworks, but little did she know what else she could've been talking about. Once we had finished eating and cleared the table, JP and I sat back down. My mom, about to start washing the dishes, looked over at us. "What's up?" she asked, noticing that we didn't run off like we usually did. "There's, uh, something I want to talk to you about, Mom," I started nervously. My mom put down the dish towel and placidly - to my surprise - walked around the counter and slowly sat down across from JP and me. "What is it?" she questioned expectantly. She was being rather calm about all this, which only made me more nervous. My heart was pounding in my chest; my head was spinning frantically. What was I doing? I thought to myself. Am I really ready for this? JP, seemingly sensing my insecurity, moved his leg so that his knee touched mine, letting me know that he was next to me. "Mom," I stuttered, "I, um, I'm, uh..." I side-glanced over at JP. He was looking at me encouragingly. Finally, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and just let it out. "We're gay." ==================================================================================================================== Meanwhile, to the east, in the Comfort Inn Pentagon City, Andrew and Carrie woke up in their king-sized bed and smiled at each other. "Hey baby," Andrew crooned, hugging Carrie gently in his massive arms. "How did you sleep?" "I slept just fine Big Man, thanks to your massive muscles keeping me warm all night," Carrie replied with a sexy smile. She looked up at Andrew's massive shoulders and chest, sighing in satisfaction. "Last night was great: meeting JP and his friends Matt and Chrissy. "Do you think JP and Matt will be able to secure their parent's permission to come on the Ohio State recruiting visit with us?" "Since they both want to go to that school, the answer will be yes Carrie," Andrew reminded her, stepping out of bed with his girlfriend in his arms. "Of course, meeting their parents for supper tonight will go a long way." "Yeah, if their parents admire you even half as much as JP does, they'll have no problem trusting you with their sons' safety," Carrie assured him, smiling as Andrew gently carried her(pardon the pun) into the bathroom. And a whole lot more, Andrew thought to himself, as he turned on the shower. He had no idea what was going on at Matt's house that morning, but he would soon find out. ===================================================================================================================== FROM JP EPISODE 21: THE SMILE (July 5th, 2005): Have you ever had that time in your life when you were knowingly heading into the unknown, that place of uncertainty so terrifying that you were unsure of how it was going to turn out? It consumed every part of you, every thought, every feeling, that you were almost paralyzed, but you somehow ventured there nonetheless. That was how I felt about coming out to my mom that early July morning. Mind you, it wasn't like I didn't want to tell here the truth - I did - but it was really the fear of what she would say or do when I finally told her. Her father had been a strict Lutheran minister back in Minnesota, so I knew first-hand how conservative our family was. I mean, my grandfather had nearly flipped out when my mom had gotten engaged to my dad, a Catholic. What would she say about this? Would she accept my homosexuality and my love for JP? Would she be able to understand that I couldn't possibly imagine being with anyone else but him? Would this change her view of him as a person? That's why when I uttered those two small words that morning, my whole world came to a sudden and staggering halt, waiting for the response that would surely change my life. There was no way I could take back what I said - it was already out there. My mom looked at me calmly for a long agonizing moment. It was probably only a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. In her eyes, I swore I saw the look of pain a mother feels when her child disappoints her and my mind raced. Shit, I thought to myself, this is it. I braced myself for what was to come next. Every nightmare passed through my head - I was never going to be allowed to see JP again; I was going to be sent to some kind of boarding school or something. This was not going to be pretty. But then, something happened that I could never have predicted. She smiled. I let my mouth slip open in utter shock. What did this mean? None of my fears had ever included this reaction from her, which only made me more horrified. I glanced over at JP, who I could tell was doing his best to stay as stoic as usual, probably for my sake. "I was wondering when you were finally going to tell me," my mom said gently. "What?" I responded, more instinctively than consciously. She smiled again and looked at me with the most caring eyes I'm sure she could manage. I knew this was as hard for her as it was for me. "I've known for a long time," she continued. "I've known ever since that first night you brought JP home for dinner that you two were in love." "You have?" I asked, dazed by her revelation. My mom nodded. "It was the way you two looked at each other." I didn't notice JP suddenly flinch, and I had no way of knowing that he was suddenly remembering that Andrew also knew their secret, by the same set of signs. Then, my mom briefly looked away, as if embarrassed. "But it was only confirmed when I walked in on the two of you one morning-" she nervously cleared her throat "- cuddling in your bed." JP shifted uneasily in his seat. Oh fuck! I shut my eyes in humiliation. An extremely awkward pause followed, as I frantically tried to think of what to say next. "So...you're ok with it?" I finally asked hopefully. "No," she answered flatly, but with a tinge of regret in her voice. I felt my heart collapse. But then she raised her eyes to mine: the most sincere eyes I had ever seen coming from her. "But..." she started, "I don't know how to say this." Pressing her fingers against her forehead, she let out a sigh. There was nothing I could think of to help her, half expecting her to burst into tears out of disappointment in me. Instead, she looked up at JP with her strong eyes. His eyes however, were almost panicky, unsure of how to take in what he was seeing and hearing. "JP," she tried again, "you are the nicest, most mature and most caring young man I have ever had the privilege to meet. I can completely see why my son has fallen in love with you." She paused, slowly turning towards me. "And that's why I have no choice but to accept this." Oh my God, I thought to myself. She couldn't possibly be saying what I thought she was saying. I looked at her questioningly. "Matthew," she went on, "when you were born, your father and I had the greatest of expectations for you. We wanted you to grow up to be strong, healthy, successful and, most of all, happy. We both promised to try our hardest to raise you the best we could." Oh shit, here it comes, I thought. This is the part where she starts blaming herself. I closed my eyes again, not wanting to witness my mom falling apart. "Meeting JP was the best thing that has ever happened to you," she said softly. Huh? My eyes immediately darted back to her with surprise and relief. "You have become stronger and happier since you met him," she continued, "and that is the best thing that your dad and I could ever have hoped for. I don't necessarily agree with or understand your being gay, but I recognize the love you boys have for each other. And I do know that the worst thing I could ever do to you, Matthew, is to tear you apart from him and make you unhappy." My mouth dropped open and I felt like I was about to cry. I had never for a moment believed that my mom would have this reaction to me and JP coming out to her. I couldn't possibly have asked for better; I didn't know what to say. She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a near-whisper. "And I promise you that I will try my hardest to accept this," she said, a sudden waver entering her tone which up until then had been steady. "I love you, no matter what - you know that." A tear escaped her eye and began rolling down her cheek. She immediately raised a hand up to her face in a vain attempt to hide it. I also fought back a storm of tears that were welling up in my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but the lump in my throat kept any sound from getting out; my lower lip just quivered uncontrollably. "Thank you Mrs. Andersson," I heard JP say softly, knowing that I was temporarily frozen with emotion. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my boyfriend turn his head towards me, a deep look of concern on his face. Damn, I loved him so much! He was so good to me! "You're welcome JP," my mom responded, smiling slightly at him. She looked back at me, still silent, and reached out here hand to my arm. Her touch was warm and almost comforting. "Thanks," I croaked, barely able to get that one word out of my throat. I kept looking down at the table, avoiding my mom's eyes, afraid that I would lose it if I looked at her. "Well," she sighed, standing up, "why don't you two go upstairs and get dressed and I'll finish the dishes here." Knowing that I desperately needed time to think, it was the only thing she could have suggested at the moment. JP helped me out of my chair and guided me upstairs to my bedroom. ===================================================================================================================== Meanwhile, in their hotel, Andrew, Mike and Carrie had gotten dressed and gone down to the hotel dining room for breakfast. Andrew was pretty quiet as they ate breakfast: feeling uncomfortable with the secret knowledge he had about JP and Matt's relationship. "You look worried Andrew; what's bothering you?" Carrie asked him as they began eating, noticing the concerned look on his face. "I'd rather not discuss it right now Carrie; let's wait until we're alone," Andrew informed her. "It's a very delicate subject in this country, unlike ours, and that is the only hint I'm going to give you." Carrie furrowed her brow in confusion and then she suddenly remembered seeing Matt gazing longingly at JP the night before at the National Mall. A sudden look of understanding came over her face and she looked up at Andrew to see if her hunch was right. A slight nod of confirmation from him was Carrie's proof that she was right, and she suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach as she imagined what was going on between Matt and JP at that moment. ===================================================================================================================== Once my door was closed behind us, I burst into tears. JP immediately took me in his arms, offering me his shoulder to bury my face into. It felt so good to just let loose right there with my boyfriend protecting me. I couldn't have asked for anything more from him. "It's alright," he comforted me, rubbing my back with his strong hands. "Just let it out." I had the feeling that he was almost as overwhelmed as I was, but we both knew that he needed to stay strong for my sake.. and it was working. My quiet sobs began to subside and I looked up into JP's eyes, my face still wet from crying. "I am in such awe of you," he whispered to me, taking my head in his hands. "I can only imagine how much courage that took." "It's because of you," I sniffed, my voice cracking like mad. JP shook his head and grinned. "Matt, you did most of that yourself; we both know that," he assured me. "No," I said, shaking my head and sitting down on my bed, "my mom only reacted that way because she loves you like a second son." JP sighed as he sat down next to me but he didn't interrupt. "She thinks you're amazing. She wouldn't have said those things if you hadn't been there." I was almost to the point of tears again. "What I'm trying to say is... you're too perfect. I don't deserve you." JP bit his lip and kneeled down in front of me. "Matt, listen to me," he said firmly. "She said those things because she thinks that you are amazing." "JP," I groaned with frustration, rolling my head away from him. Surely he was just saying that to make me feel better. "No Matt, wait," he protested, directing my attention back down to his eyes again. "Your mom said it herself - she loves you, no matter what. Even if I wasn't here, she would still feel the same way." I looked at my boyfriend like I didn't believe him..,. and I didn't. I also remembered how my mom had mentioned how much happier and stronger I had become since meeting JP. Surely JP, with his near-genius mind, had not forgotten that part of the conversation! "Come on: look," he said, pulling me up and bringing me in front of the bedroom mirror. "Look in the mirror," he instructed me. "What do you see?" "Me, standing next to the most perfect body in the world," I answered stubbornly. JP rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation. "Will you stop looking at me for once and look at yourself for a minute?" he asked impatiently. He put his hands on my shoulders and stood behind me. God, I looked like crap; my eyes were all puffy from crying. "You have a killer body, you're gorgeous and you have the most stunning eyes anyone could ask for." I blinked as his words penetrated my stubbornness and looked into the mirror more clearly this time. In a way, he was right. The reflection I saw staring back at me was one that I could only have dreamed of a year ago. I was in the best shape of my life: my muscles were well-defined and I looked like a top athlete. I may not have been the Adonis that my boyfriend was, but I still looked pretty good. JP wrapped his arms around my chest and placed his chin on my shoulder. "But best of all, you're a strong person on the inside as well," he assured me. "You have a huge heart and you are so caring to those around you. But that's something you've always had." His voice was almost down to a whisper now. "Why else do you think I fell in love with you?" Now I understood what he was trying to tell me. While my mom struggled with my homosexuality, she still loved me for who I was and always would. But there was something else: most importantly, she recognized my love for my boyfriend as one that was real. She was willing to put aside her own prejudices for our sake, knowing that we would be happier if she did. In a way, it was truly brave and mature of her, and I loved her even more for it. Somehow that morning, I was closer to my mom than I had been in a long time, and definitely since before the divorce. =============================================================================================================================== Meanwhile, Andrew and his friends had finished breakfast and were in their hotel room packing for the afternoon with JP and Matt at Burke Lake Park. "How exactly do we get to Burke Lake Park Andrew?" Carrie asked him. "Is it on the Washington area map?" "No it isn't Carrie, but let's check Windows Live Maps and see if we can find it," Andrew replied, stepping over to his laptop on the desk. As he sat down, he noticed Mike come out of his bedroom with the two backpacks. "Go downstairs and put the two bags in the car Mike; Carrie and I will be down with the map in a few minutes," he said, tossing his car keys to his big friend. "Are you trying to get me out of the way so that you can discuss something private with Carrie?" Mike guessed. "How did you figure that out Mike?" Andrew asked in astonishment, turning to face him. "I saw the looks you and Carrie were exchanging during breakfast," Mike replied. "You seem to forget that I'm just as smart as you are." "Probably even smarter, since I didn't think that you noticed Carrie and I exchanging our secret looks of understanding," Andrew said, looking nervous suddenly. But then he grinned and added, "But if you're half as smart as you think you are Mike, you'll know not to bring up the subject again until I'm ready to discuss it with you." He flexed his massive bicep to emphasize his last statement (pardon the pun), and glared at his big friend. "We both know what will happen if you make me mad Mike; we found out last football season when all those opposing players left the field on stretchers!" "Yeah Andrew, I remember," Mike assured him, looking scared for a split second before he regained his composure. "You're the only football player on the team who has a black belt in several martial arts and knows Infantry unarmed combat skills as well!" "Yeah man, if I wasn't in the Infantry Reserves, I'd probably have to register my hands and feet as lethal weapons," Andrew realized soberly. "I never realized until now just how many ways I could kill someone: with just a hand or a foot or even a strategically-placed finger." "Yes, as Kirk once famously said about Spock: 'Aroused, your great physical strength could kill,'" Mike suddenly realized, his look of fear returning. "Then don't make me mad Big Man; get downstairs now," Andrew growled without even a hint of a smile. When Mike just stared at him in fear, Andrew added, "I've got another quote for you, this time from Police Academy: 'Now Mister! Move it, move it, move it!" "Sure thing man; I'm gone," Mike stammered, heading quickly for the door. "See you downstairs Andrew," he added, as he stepped into the hallway. "Not if I see you first Mike," Andrew corrected him, grinning to let his big friend know that he wasn't really mad. Mike grinned as he walked down the hall and out of sight. Andrew turned to look at Carrie, who wasn't able to erase the look of terror from her face in time to keep Andrew from seeing it. "Hey Baby, don't worry, I was just kidding around: acting tough so that Mike doesn't forget that I'm the boss around here," Andrew assured her. "After all, he's just as big and strong as I am, and he may even exceed me in size and strength one day, considering how big his brother is!" "You may have been kidding around about being angry, but I've been to all your martial arts classes over the years," Carrie reminded him. "So I know all too well how lethal you could be in a fight, especially since you're so big and strong!" "Yeah Carrie, but I only use a tiny fraction of my great strength on you," Andrew assured her, lifting her up gently until she could look into his eyes. He adjusted his grip on her waist slightly and then lifted one massive hand to her face, stroking it softly with a feather light touch. As Carrie's eyes closed in bliss, Andrew grinned and leaned closer. "See Carrie, you have nothing to be scared of," he whispered in her ear. "I'd never hurt you with my great strength; it's a lot more fun to pleasure you with my gentle touch." "And perhaps one day when we get engaged, we could go all the way," Carrie whispered back, opening her eyes. Andrew hesitated and Carrie added, "I know you're really scared that you'd hurt me by accident if you got too excited during sex Andrew, but remember that I'm just as nervous as you are: just for a different reason." "Yeah Carrie; it will be the first time for both of us," Andrew realized, setting her down on her feet gently. "That means that our virginity will be the greatest gift we can give each other." "Maybe an early Christmas Present before we go off to college next fall?" Carrie asked hopefully. "Maybe Carrie, but first, I can now share with you my realization from last night," Andrew said, closing the door to the hallway. "Matt and JP are dating just like we are," Carrie said, saving him the trouble. "There's nothing wrong with that Andrew." "Not in our country no; since we've had gay marriage legalized for two years now," Andrew agreed. "But here in America, it's still not legal and they still have Don't Ask Don't Tell in the military." "Then we won't tell anyone what we've figured out unless JP and Matt decide to discuss it with us," Carrie decided. "I'm glad we agree Carrie," Andrew said, breathing a sigh of relief. He reached out his hand and Carrie took hold of it. He squeezed her fingers gently and opened the hall door. "Now, let's go downstairs and meet Mike at my car. Then we can figure out what to do for the rest of the morning before we meet JP and Matt at Burke Lake Park at 1 pm." Carrie smiled in anticipation as Andrew locked the hotel room door. Then they went downstairs, looking forward to having a fun day with their new friends. ***************************************** This is a good place to end Chapter 2; Chapter 3 will start with a bit more of JP Episode 21 : the only part left that takes place in early July 2005. The rest of Chapter 3 will start filling in the six week gap that exists in that JP Chapter before the JP and Nick Stories join up in mid-August 2005. It was just an amazing coincidence that Andrew met JP in the same Chapter (JP Episode 18) where we first hear about JP's future protégé Nick Agelakis. And now, I can remove the (IN PROGRESS) from the title of this Chapter, which will simply be called: REVELATIONS. Coming soon: -Andrew and JP share their revelations with each other. -Andrew and his friends meet Matt's Mom and JP's parents I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the next chapter will be the first one I write where I have no existing JP Episode to draw from. So I will be extrapolating the JP character the best I can; fortunately, I have the author's permission to do so, as you can see from the link at the beginning of this chapter.
  6. Hello, all...here is the long-awaited Wrestling Chapter......to catch up where you were before, I highly recommend you look at the other chapters first..... Links to other chapters: "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / A Brief History of Casey Rockland / Miles Donovan's Gym "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 6 - Casey is Discovered at Miles Donovan's Gym "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Pt. 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale, Continued / The Men Hit the Showers "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11 - Casey Meets the Muscle Squad Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. THE TWENTY A Government Issue Adult Cartoon -XXX- Muscle Fantasy By Joey Silverado This book is dedicated to Tiny Yokum – and to all his fans, past, present, and future. Chapter 12: Part 1 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Five minutes later, Karim Abdul was striding down the corridor, pecs bouncing, headed for the wrestling room. Still carrying his clothes from Casey’s presentation, he was now dressed only in his red Lycra wrestling singlet. His step was deliberate, his gait powerful. As he walked he grumbled to himself, ignoring the low clamor of the rest of muscle squad, who followed eagerly behind. His cock, loose in the singlet, swayed heavily from side to side as he walked, his balls pushed forward. “Asswipe kid.” The rest of his thoughts were a little too vague for words. Thoughtlessly he grabbed his cock and got it momentarily out of the way of his quads, pumping as he walked. Most of the squad was keeping a good 20 yards of distance between themselves and Karim Abdul. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of a wild Abdul punch at this moment. Even Schumacher, McIntyre, and Duncan, men who could well defend themselves and were used to Abdul’s occasional wild swings, were keeping themselves at a cautious distance. Karim knew he had to mark his territory. Now, tonight, and fast. No questions asked. Leaving nothing to second-guessing. After all, even he had to admit it - this kid was fucking unbelievable. He was huge, he was cut, he was raw, he was handsome, he was young, he was unbelievably hung. And at only 18 years of age, he was still growing. Karim wouldn’t rest until he’d smashed the kid’s handsome face into the mat. And maybe pissed in his mouth, too. Something. Something like that. Yeah. Show him who was in charge. But - it was all – well, a little unformed. Even to him. He passed the door leading to the back of the kitchen. He bashed the door open with his fist, smashing the frame and cracking the thick glass. Inside, Pedro, Abdul’s handsome little kitchen cocksucking buttboy, was sweeping up. “Your ass in the wrestling room. Bring that 10-pound canister of olive oil. MOVE!!! NOW!” commanded Abdul. Pedro jumped a mile. Then Abdul was gone, continuing on down the corridor. Pedro immediately put the broom away, washed his hands - his musclegod demanded clean fingernails - climbed up a little ladder to one of the shelf larders, and grabbed a 10 gallon jug of olive oil. Carrying it with some difficulty, he nevertheless darted out the door and ran excitedly after Abdul. "Wait for me!" the eager boy squeaked. He was about to get an awesome muscle show. Maybe suck some massive cock. Wow! Further ahead, Abdul was a man on a mission. And coming up behind him and running by was Private Tiffany. Abdul didn’t like that asswipe, either. Great glutes, though. Perfect glutes. Big, hard, striated boulders. Yeah. Fuckable. Most inviting. He’d fuck the little asswipe’s butt one day and then push his face in the toilet. Yeah. He continued on, paying little notice, though he did allow himself a quick, cool glance at the muscleboy’s rolling, muscular boybutt as he scampered by. From the corridor somewhere behind Abdul, Schumacher was shouting to Tiffany. “Where you going?” he demanded to know. “Getting Dr. Irving!” “Who?” Tiffany turned back, running backwards, explaining patiently as if to a child. “The dude with the camera. Ever notice him? Probably not…” He waved Schumacher off with easy, grinning contempt, turned back and scooted happily up the corridor towards Dr. Irving’s office. Schumacher swore to himself. He had to acknowledge he had no idea who Tiffany was talking about. He rarely noticed the lab workers or other doctors, barely paying attention to even Dr. Zaftig himself. He returned his gaze to Karim, striding purposefully up the hall ahead of him. Karim Abdul’s rocky man glutes rumbled darkly as he walked, and Schumacher gazed into the impenetrable deep butt crack outlined in the red Lycra. Excepting only the cloaked, anonymous butt fucking nights, no one other than powerfucker Schumacher had yet penetrated Karim’s magnificent asshole. Ever. “At least I have that much,” Schumacher muttered. By now he was passing the open office door. Tiffany, his back to the corridor, was hurriedly explaining to some geeky lab coat doctor who Schumacher had never noticed before, saying something about Get the camera out, asshole, and Come with me now…. Schumacher paused for a moment in the office doorway to admire Tiffany’s butt sweep in his tight regulation khakis. His full, hard, rounded glutes were a most enticing display in his slacks, the rear pockets rounded with the curvature of pure muscle, promising the pleasures that lay beneath. Joe Tiffany Now there was a butt to fuck. He grunted and continued down the corridor, following Karim. In truth he didn’t know why he was heading off with the others to the wrestling ring, and especially at this hour. He should be headed off to bed, a quick JO instant replay of the group shower suck / group butt lick he’d enjoyed just 40 minutes earlier, and then plenty of shuteye for another brutal workout tomorrow. That was the life. And another day to plan on getting into Tiffany’s butt. Another day to strategize some deep cock / muscleboybutt frottage sessions. Another day to – “Hey, Schumacher.” It was McIntyre. “Where you going? This way.” He’d walked right past the wrestling room door. “Oh.” He retraced his steps. As he came back, a little sheepishly, Alvarez and Lang were in the doorway. Lang’s tongue was practically lolling out of his head in anticipation, and even cool customer Alvarez had an excited gleam in his eye. “What do you assholes think is gonna happen?” snarled Schumacher as he strode by, pushing past them into the wrestling room. Alvarez put his hands up in mock defensiveness. “Oh, nothing, nothing. We just thought we might want to watch.” “Yeah, we wanna watch nothing happen,” smirked Lang. Both men mockingly bowed as Schumacher went by, Alvarez of course taking the lead, with puppydog Lang following suit. Schumacher glanced down at their packed flies bulging out of their khakis as he strode by. “You both sure got big enough hard-ons, just to watch nothing happen.” Lang looked defensive. Alvarez just laughed, and gently patted Lang’s growing bulge. “Yeah, guess we do.” He nodded and winked, and went inside the wrestling room. Lang followed, and even had the temerity to wink at Schumacher as he went by. Alvarez threw his arm around Lang and playfully squeezed his ass. Faggots, thought Schumacher. His own cock roared to life in his pants and was soon poling straight out and upward. He glanced back down the corridor. Moster and Casey were rounding the corner. Moster had changed out of his sweats, and was now in the regulation Valhalla Labs green t-shirt and tight khakis. Casey still had only his micro posing trunks on. Behind them scurried Dr. Irving, carrying Casey’s sweats and his video equipment. He was babbling on his cellphone. Probably talking to the insane dude who ran the place. Zaftig. Moster noted the ruined kitchen door and sighed. “Another door,” he grumbled. These dudes, when they got pissed off. It’s not like Valhalla Labs was a bottomless money source. Close, but not bottomless. He nodded at Schumacher and gestured briefly for him to go into the wrestling room ahead of them. Schumacher scowled, but did as he was directed. “Dr. Irving?” “Yes, Sergeant Moster?” Irving scurried to catch up to them. “Do you have a white cap on you?” “Why…yes….” Moster knew he would. The little doctor had long since learned that anything could happen when the men gathered, and he made it a point to carry extra medication with him at all times. And there was no sense in irritating Moster with a “Why, no.” He wouldn’t put it past the giant black muscle monster to deck him with one mighty punch in the nose if displeased, which would no doubt kill him. He scrambled and produced a small medication bottle. Moster turned to Casey, struggling a little to keep up, halfway between a walk and a run, his black shiny micro poser barely covering his steadily bobbing cock as he ran. “Here,” said Moster. “Take this.” “Hunh?” Casey stopped full. “Take it. Don’t ask questions.” “What—what is it?” “Extra confidence.” “Drugs?” Casey was momentarily stumped. He remembered that the boys in the Home were always experimenting. It made them silly and weak. He wanted no part of it. “I don’t do drugs.” Moster motioned to Irving. “Go on and set up, we’ll meet you there.” He turned to Casey. “It’s not a drug. Not like you think.” “I don’t do no steroids, neither.” “Not a ‘roid. There is no man in this facility on the juice. We have to do something about your grammar, by the way.” “Then how –“ “Shut up and take it. I will explain later. You will be fine.” Casey gulped, put his faith in Moster, and did as he was told. He popped the pill in his mouth, and smiled with weak subservience at Moster. “Okay, sir.” “What was that?” “I..I mean, Yes, Sir!” “That’s better.” Moster turned and continued down the corridor, Casey scampering after him. Good thing the men still do what I tell them to do, thought Moster. And how long is that gonna last with this boy? Once he finds his power? Moster tucked that thought away. “Let’s go watch you wrestle. You do wrestle, you said?” “Yeah, but I’m scared…” “No need to be.” “…no..…scared I’ll hurt him. I always do….” Except, of course, Ramon Ramon, the much smaller wrestler at Raw Weight Gym who never failed to thoroughly pin the muscleboy. But of course, that was a long time ago. Inside the wrestling room Karim had already snapped on the overhead lights and was doing deep knee bends in the middle of the 20 sq foot wrestling ring, which dominated the center of the room. The thick blue mat of the ring gleamed in the overhead lights, with the VALHALLA LABS logo in the center. Around the ring on two raised platforms were about 40 folding chairs, all affording perfect, elevated views of any wrestling action. Pedro stood eagerly on the side, now holding towels and a water bottle. “Getting limbered up to better meet the kid?” called out Blankenship. He had already grabbed his ringside seat, he too adjusting his crotch as he sat. “Shut the fuck up,” said Karim, squatting. To Pedro he shot out, “Where the fuck is the oil? Get the oil.” Pedro shot off into a storage room and returned with a 5-gallon jug of olive oil. “Goin’ for Turkish wrestling, hunh, Karim?” Chad was grabbing a seat ringside. He nudged Waring. “This is gonna be good.” No answer from Karim. “The kid’s got an iron grip, I’m told,” called out Waring, nudging Eli Meyer’s ribs as he took a seat next to him. Meyer’s mouth hung open in a perennial smile. He pointed to his mouth so Meyer could read his lips. “I said, Casey Rockland’s got an iron grip.” “I heard you.” Obatu was next, leaning against the ropes. “And those quads be killers. He gets you in a lock hold, you gonna be dead in the water. What’re ya gonna do about that, Mr. Abdul, sir?” Karim didn’t answer, regarding them all stonily. Obatu lazily returned his gaze, smiling, unintimidated. Blankenship had started this. But Blankenship had easily dodged the intended receiving end of a few near-miss wild roundhouse punches in the past. He was too fast and too alert to be caught unawares, and Karim Abdul had learned not to waste his energy on him. So Karim suffered the men’s ready comments stoically. “This kid got veins like this?” he asked, flexing his 25-inch biceps, showing off half-inch thick rivers of veins, pulsing with power. “Yeah, I think, actually, he does,” said Blankenship with a smile. “Here he is now. Let’s see. Kid, you got veins like his?” Moster and Casey had appeared at the opposite door, the darkened end of the wrestling room. Both giants approached, in black silhouette against the framed light from the corridor, getting larger as they quietly walked toward the ring. Casey looked up quizzically at the question. “Flex your biceps,” whispered Moster. “Hunh?” “Flex, man. Don’t ask stupid questions. Flex it up. Now.” “ ’kay.” Casey stopped and hammered out a front double bi. 25 inches of his own, in response to Abdul. As always, he felt compelled to go on, adding side chest, front lats, quads, and sent a hand probingly down rippled, hardrock abs. “That good?” “Good, good,” muttered Moster. “You catch on fast. You ever compete, kid?” “Uh…..no……should I? Other guys are so much bigger than me….” Moster smiled. They all think that, at the beginning. “Get over here, plebe,” Abdul called out from the center of the ring. Pedro was standing on a stool, pouring the olive oil over his massive physique, worshipfully slathering him up. Casey in Silhouette Casey stared. “What’s all that….?” he stammered. Moster noted that the white cap hadn’t taken effect yet, but then it had only been a few minutes. “Now, Karim,” said Moster patiently, coming into the light as they approached the ring. “You know Casey is not a plebe.” Abdul started to speak. “Nor is he a cadet. He is now one of you. He makes us The Twenty. You need to accept this,” he continued, walking and speaking easily now as he pulled up the ropes and stepped into the wrestling ring. He approached the angry giant muscle Arab. “And he isn’t threatening you. Casey isn’t going to pull your power away from you.” “That’s not what this is about.” “Bullshit,” one of the men yelled. The others laughed. Abdul glared at them and went on. “Whatever you say, Sergeant Moster, sir,” said Abdul. “I just want to make sure he’s going to be worth my time to train with.” He smiled easily. “That’s all.” The oil was dripping off him onto the mat. Moster said nothing. Casey was now visibly nervous. Still outside the ropes, he leaned in to Moster. “They gonna reject me?” he whispered loudly. “I mean, now?” “No one’s rejecting you,” said Moster loudly. He then turned to the waiting group of musclemen. “Are you, boys?” Something about that ‘boys’ rankled Abdul even further, though Alvarez and Gunst just smiled. The others looked perplexed. “Since when are we boys?” squealed Hension. “Shut up, Hension,” said Chad. “You ever wrestle, boy?” Abdul called out. “His name is Casey. Or Private Rockland.” “I asked you a question, boy. Ever wrestled? Get your butt into the ring.” “You really want all this oil?” sighed Moster. “We’re gonna wrestle Turkish style.” “It’s messy.” “I’ll clean it up, sir!” squeaked Pedro. “Bet your ass you will.” “Yeah, you don’t want a spanking, now, do you?” yelled Lang. He adjusted in his chair, his glutes still smarting from the paddling he’d received earlier that evening. Moster’s cock twitched a little at the suggestion of paddling handsome young Pedro’s hard, receiving little boybutt, a pleasure he had not yet allowed himself, although the teenage boy’s firm little butt cheeks had always been particularly inviting in his kitchen whites. He ignored it for now, however. Later, he thought. Casey shot a look at Moster. “What’s this about spankings?” he asked. Moster ignored the question. “Get in there.” “Yes, sir.” Casey climbed obediently into the ring. Moster watched him closely. The white cap should be taking effect in a moment…. “Oil him up,” commanded Abdul. Pedro ran over to him with the stool and the olive oil, climbed up, and began to pour it all over Casey’s massive physique. The sheer size and beauty of his muscles was overwhelming to the little Mexican, and his own powerful little cock began to bulge in his pants. After a moment, Casey was drenched in the shiny, thick liquid. The two musclemen stood face to face, Abdul in his tight singlet, fearsome muscles gleaming in the light, looming with threatening power. Casey was still in his micro, bulging posers, wet now with slick oil, the top 6 inches of his massive, meaty cockshaft fully exposed, blond tendrils of pubic hair curling with thick radiance. He was embarrassed, humiliated that his huge penis was twitching outwards in anticipation of what-was-coming-next. But then he noticed – Abdul’s oily, pylon-thick tool was also clearly coming to life in the thin singlet. “Good. Now, you got some mighty fancy muscles. But that doesn’t mean much here. We all got fancy muscles.” “You’re not being very polite, Corporal Abdul, “ said Moster, moving to the sidelines. “I think the men ought to introduce themselves before we get into any personal demonstrations of our manhood. Don’t you agree?” Even the ever-present log in lying against Moster’s pants leg was firmly outlined and appeared to be twitching a little, and the thin khaki fabric of his slacks covering it was now smooth and tight. Slowly the 17 others bodybuilders rose from their seats around the ring, one by one. 38 pairs of eyes stared at Casey intently. He glanced at the cocky little Joe Tiffany, and then over at Corporal Schumacher, who was now looking at him expectantly. “Okay, now, boy. This is Turkish wrestling. There are clear rules, but they’re different from American collegiate.” “Hang on,” said Moster. “We’ll get to the Turkish rules of wrestling in a moment. He stepped into the ring and approached Casey, now thick and dripping with oil. The men were now gathered on two sides of the ring, leaning on the ropes, leaning in to see what was coming next. For any other cadet introduced into the ranks, Sergeant Moster would have generally proceeded to paddle Casey’s hard young butt as the formal ritual of initiation. Last had been Private Tiffany receiving the red-hot butt cheek welcome, which he had borne stoically and proudly, displaying the twin globes of burnt-cherry perfection under the paddling. And after all, they had all gone through it, excepting Abdul, of course. Even Schumacher had known the firm, unrelenting hand of Moster on his butt. Hazing was hazing. But tonight, that didn’t seem to be happening. Abdul’s interesting wrestling challenge has precluded that. All were watchful. “Men, introduce yourselves. I was going to do this tomorrow, at Casey’s first workout, but now seems as good a time as any.” He turned to Casey and smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to remember all their names just yet,” he added. “That’s good. I’m not very good with names.” “You’ll know them all, in time.” One by one, each man introduced himself. “My name is Private Leo Jin,” said the Asian man. “I’m 25 and from San Diego. I have been in the Project 8 years. My best bodypart is my forearms.” To prove it, the handsome Asian brought his beefy, fetchingly oversized forearms, walloping with solid muscle and veins, and squeezed the muscles hard. “I’m Private Dan Gunst, and until today, I had the biggest biceps here – except for Sergeant Moster’s.” Gunst flexed his mighty guns and then gave Casey a half-cocked smile. “Guess yours are bigger,” he proffered, respectfully. “I saw that this afternoon.” Moster glanced at him questioningly. “Oh, yeah,” he added. “I’m from Milwaukee, I’m 27, and I have been in the program 3 years. Hi, Casey. Welcome again.” “Hi, Dan!” Gunst sat back down. Moster eyed Casey carefully, wondering when the little capsule might take effect. Casey seemed cheerful and happy. Around the circle they went, each muscleman getting to his feet, politely introducing himself, offering basic information, and then showing him his best bodypart. “I’m Steve Waring, and my best bodypart is my traps.” Bulge. Flex. Steve Waring “I’m Rene LeFevre, and my best bodypart are my pecs.” Surge. Bloom. Bulge. “I’m David Duncan, and my best bodypart are my triceps.” Rip. Bulge. Bloom. Flex. “I’m Schumacher.” He said nothing else but grudgingly offered a front lat spread. Casey nodded without expression. This guy was not to be messed with. Eli Meyer signed with ASL. Casey nodded, showing some intelligence. Moster was pleased. Then Meyer turned around, bent over, grabbed his ankles, and showed off his hams, bulging through the khakis. He turned back and Casey gave him the OK and thumbs up sign. “I’m Chris Hension, and my best bodypart – “ “Is my FACE!” shouted Corporal LeFevre. “I’m a refugee from a lost episode of ’21 Jump Street’!” “Smack me around a little and I’ll follow you forever!” added Chad. “He’s our little boyband musclepup,” explained Blankenship. “Shut up,” yelled Hension, visibly embarrassed once again to be labeled the squad pretty boy. All the men were laughing now. “My best body part is my quads.” He started to rotate them. “And my baby blue eyes,” shouted LeFevre again. Hension was confused and humiliated but continued to show his quads, blooming in his tight khakis. “I think it’s his butt!” said Waring. “It’s okay, Chris,” said Casey. “Your quads are awesome.” Hension looked up, hopefully, and Casey felt compelled to go on. “And I think you’re very handsome indeed.” Hension smiled hugely at Casey, his heart beating a little faster. Gee, he thought. Wow. He gazed at Casey, who was now turning his attention to Private Waring. “I’m Private Ryan Waring, and my best bodypart are my delts.” He extended a powerful arm and began to rotate it. Suddenly Hension spoke up again. “I’m 22,” he blurted out, “and I’m from Toledo!” The men laughed again, and Hension hung his head a little and stuck out his lower lip. Next to him, Chad patted his thigh comfortingly. Casey saw him wink at Hension, who straightened up a little and smiled weakly. Casey’s head was spinning. He was inspired past all understanding by the mind-boggling panorama of muscle before him. And he was part of it. About then, he noticed that the room seemed to be getting a little brighter and a little hotter. He was staring again at Moster’s leg log. “Private Lang,” said Lang. “I’m 28, I’m from Lansing, Michigan, and….” He looked a little helplessly at Alvarez, sitting next to him. “My best body part is……um….” “Your back. Your lats are your best body part,” said Alvarez with quiet encouragement. “Yeah, I guess it’s my lats.” He turned and flared his lats wide. Alvarez clapped him approvingly on his butt. Lang smiled and sat, and Alvarez got up. “I’m Corporal Julio Alvarez, I’m 32, I’m from El Paso, and my best bodypart are my biceps.” He flexed. “Gunst’s are bigger but mine have sick peaks.” He popped them back and forth. “See?” Casey was indeed impressed. “Nice. Sick.” Gunst yelled in good-humored protest and flexed his own guns. Casey looked between Alvarez and Lang. Alvarez glanced over at Lang. “No, we’re not related,” he said. “They’re just joined at the wrist and ankles,” called out Gunst. “More like mouth and cock,” muttered Blankenship loudly, winking at Casey. It was Private Tiffany’s turn. “Casey and I will be meeting privately soon,” he boasted, and made a show of wiping the corner of his lips with his index finger. The men laughed knowingly – all but Corporal Schumacher, who looked down into his lap and seethed a little. Moster watched him intently. Something has to be done about Tiffany. But he didn’t worry. Though Tiffany didn’t know it yet, something was already happening. Casey felt a touch flushed, but his head was suddenly amazingly clear. Suddenly he spoke. “And what’s your best bodypart?” he asked. The stammer was gone, but only Moster noticed it. “What do you think?” Joe Tiffany turned around, bent over and grabbed his ankles. He pulled his gym shorts tight at the crack of his butt and proudly displayed his magnificent bodybuilder glutes. “Cupcakes!” said Gunst gleefully. The men howled. Schumacher made a show of laughing, but all he could do was glare. “Wow,” said Casey calmly. “Very pretty.” Tiffany's Butt after Squats Moster smiled inwardly. Good. He’s responded. And this boy responds well to White Caps, he thought. “No one’s had it yet,” said Tiffany confidingly as he straightened up and turned around, tucking his t-shirt back into his shorts. Then he winked. “Except in group.” “Group?” Casey was obviously perplexed. The men shouted with laughter, which died down sheepishly as, looking around the room, each man eventually shrugged and acknowledged it was probably true. None of them had had Tiffany yet. “I haven’t, anyway,” grumbled Schumacher, and the men laughed again. Tiffany sat back down and ignored Schumacher’s look. “Too bad,” said Casey. “Shame to waste such a pretty little behind.” The laughter died down and the men stared at Casey. No one knew what to say. “What’s ‘group’?” repeated Casey. Silence. On the sidelines, Alvarez raised his head a little. He exchanged looks with Moster. White cap? he mouthed. Moster looked away. Alvarez smiled and leaned in. He nudged Lang in the ribs. “Ow,” said Lang. “This is gonna be good,” said Alvarez in a low voice. “And I’m Karim Abdul. My best bodypart? My whole fucking physique is my best bodypart. As you are about to find out.” He flexed, whipping through pose after pose, his heavy cock bulge, dripping with oil, whipping left to right in his wrestling singlet. Snap. Snap. Snap. Casey could hear it slapping against his thighs through the man’s singlet. “All very impressive,” said Casey, looking pointedly at it. Moster smiled again. The cap had taken effect. “Okay. Turkish wrestling. Rules. One: there are few rules.” Abdul ticked off the rules on his fingers. “Submission: the “crush.” A fighter can get his opponent onto his stomach and then trap him by sprawling on top. If I can keep you down with your face, I can then turn you on a half-nelson for a pin.” “What if you can’t do it?” asked Casey bluntly. “If I can’t crush you, the referee has to begin us again from a standing position.” He ticked off another finger and looked Casey right in the eye. “I am not restricted from placing my hands inside my opponent’s kispet…” “Hunh?” “Your poser. I can also use the waistband to hold you in place. If I yank your poser so far below your hips that you are exposed, I win. Okay. If I can lift you entirely off the ground … “Fat fucking chance.” “Whoa,” breathed Hension. The temperature in the room seemed to raise 15º. Abdul paused, tense, and continued. “…and carry you five paces in any direction, that is a “carrying” pin. Got it?” “Yep.” “Okay.” Abdul looked at Casey. “You wanna go?” “What are we waiting for?” “Let’s wrestle,” said Abdul. He clapped his hands together and strode into the center of the ring. Ever since the mention of ‘group’, Abdul had been a touch shaky – or so Moster thought. Still can’t acknowledge how much he likes musclebutt. To say nothing of getting pissed on,” thought Moster. “Sure thing,” Casey answered, slick with oil and now quietly confident. Pedro scampered to the side of the ring and squatted eagerly to watch. Abdul began to bounce around, heel-toe, heel-toe, flexing his fingers, stretching his arms behind his head, limbering up. “Let’s go, man.” “You got it, man.” Casey hunkered down. “Center of the ring, gents,” said Moster. The men began to circle one another. “You wrestle till one of you gets a pin,” Moster instructed, now in the ring and getting between them. Casey flexed his biceps. “Big peaks, man. Like ‘em?” “Seen bigger,” said Abdul. He crunched forward, did a most muscular, his veins popping like railroad tracks. “How ‘bout you? Like what you see, faggot?” he asked. Casey just smiled, hunkered lower. Abdul palmed the crotch of his singlet. Casey smiled and refused to look down. He grabbed his own crotch, pendulously looming in his bulging posers. “Big handful, man.” “Watch it, boys,” said Moster. “This is a friendly get-to-know-you match.” “I already know him,” said Abdul. Moster snapped his fingers to Dr. Irving, now on the unpopulated side of the mat and with his ever-present video camera whirring. He dug in the pocket of his white lab jacket, wordlessly tossing him a whistle. Casey and Abdul met each other in the center of the mat and stared one another down. Their noses touched. Abdul grinned, ear to ear. Casey followed suit. Both began to gleam with anticipatory sweat. “Wow…..” breathed Hension. His hand shot down into his pants and he began massaging his stiffening tool. Moster pushed the two apart and blew his whistle to start the match. “And……wrestle!!” CLICK HERE FOR PART 2!
  7. Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Chapter 17: The Presentation February 10th, 2018 2000 Hours “Rose, dim the lights, and please – please leave us alone. Lock the auditorium doors behind you when you leave so we won’t be disturbed. Does everything have everything they need? Wi-Fi connection good? And Rose….tell Dr. Irving to bring the men upstairs to the lab. We’ll be ready for them in about 30 minutes.” A crisp response in the affirmative. The auditorium lights dimmed. There was a tapping of sensible heels, and the double doors at the back of the Valhalla Laboratories Assembly Hall opened and shut quietly. The lock clicked. Dr. Ira Zaftig cleared his throat, took a drink of water, and looked out serenely at his audience. He clicked his remote. The screen lit up, the light spilling out into the chrome and concrete bunker auditorium. “Are we ready, Gentlemen? Good evening. Welcome to Valhalla Labs.” The Valhalla logo glowed on the 20’ screen. Zaftig’s calm voice echoed darkly into the far regions of the room. “Gentlemen, I know you’ve had a long day. Flying in from Washington, checking into your quarters, touring the facility grounds, and now, after that splendid dinner, I know you’re curious to see the results of our mutual contract with the United States military and the Joint Chiefs. The unveiling, in fact, of our great 15-year initiative.” The five Officers in the front row murmured quietly. Out of courtesy, one or two nodded. Admiral Walrus, the Joint Chief Chair and Committee head, was seated dead center. He said nothing. He waited. Well behind the officers in the half-light sat a row of junior officers and young aides in attendance to the brass. “We here at Valhalla Labs know that we have achieved stunning success. We’re proud to be able to share it with you tonight.” Zaftig spoke easily, confidently. He clicked the remote again, and the first slide came into view. In their swivel chairs, the five Pentagon Officers sat back and turned their attention to the image on the screen. And then they stared. “Jesus, Zaftig, what the hell is this?” demanded Admiral Walrus. “Gentlemen, I give you Prototype 1-A of Project Herculaneum, Specimen Casey: Mr. Casey Rockland.” The image of an impossibly huge, muscled behemoth of a young man was on the screen, presented in four views: front, left, right, and rear. He was squared-jawed, thick-necked, blue-eyed, and handsome, with a deeply cleft chin and full, luscious lips. His arms hung at his side, and his legs were spread confidently well apart. His gaze was centered straight ahead, his jaw set firm with business-like grimness, his head erect. His waist was impossibly slender, given the mass above and below, perhaps 29 inches. His cobblestone abs rippled insanely. His posture was that of a classic anatomy chart. Every vein, every muscle appeared to pulse right off the screen. The young man was clean-shaven. He had a short blond military crew cut, but his eyebrows were thick, dark black, and lustrous. The left brow was slightly elevated with cocky arrogance. His face set him at about 19 years, but the muscle density of his enormous physique made it difficult to precisely age him. Seated in the dark behind the officers, Ensign Sam Victor, Admiral Walrus’ coolly handsome young personal aide de camp, looked evenly up at the screen and took in the image of the young muscleman with cool calm. The muscle boy’s skin – for he was, with his angelic face, little more than a boy, at least in years - was shrink-wrapped over the most astonishing display of musculature Sam had ever seen. Every muscle group, every vein, every cut, every separation stood prominently sculpted, in separate relief from the adjacent muscle group. He wore only the briefest of posing trunks, which sagged deeply to expose the gently curving, then plummeting, upper 6 inches of his tawny-colored, vein-lined penis. His oversized ball sac bulged ferociously in the heavy pouch. The Joints Chiefs were stunned. In the front-view image on the far left, subject Casey Rockland displayed hugely rounded, shining, mountainous pectoral muscles, gleaming with powerful deep furrows of striations, punctuated with thick dark brown, 3-inch sand dollar-sized nipples, poutily pointing downward. His broad shoulders, thick powerful traps and heavy delts looked as if the boy could easily carry a 600 pound bull around a corral. His lats spread almost horizontally behind him like the outspread wings of an eagle. The mighty 3-headed biceps were triple slabs of muscle on each arm, huge beyond all reasoning, the forearms laced with networks of half and quarter-inch iron thick veins. The boy held his enormous hands at his sides, his heavy fingers and thick thumbs crooked slyly inward towards his bulging crotch. Smokestack quads rippled and burst with muscle, and he was supported by a set of calves that ballooned behind him. His feet were enormous, with large thick toes and perfectly groomed nails. His tanned skin glowed with health. Sam assumed the subject’s teeth were probably perfect, too, but for the moment his gaze was leveled just below Casey’ rippling midsection. Well, well, he thought. Let’s just look you over, now. Just who are you, buddy? Superman? Captain America? Tiny Yokum? Johnny Holmes? Naw. This was no cartoon character. No porn star. But no superfreak that Sam had ever encountered before – and he had known many – could boast the cock this boy had. Between his legs in the front view hung a monster penis, less than half covered by the straining, flimsy Spandex posing trunks. The top half of Casey’s shaft was plainly visible. The trunks loomed heavily with the outlined round bulge and piss slit of his cock head. The generals were now murmuring loudly in shocked disapproval. Admiral Walrus just sat and stared. Behind them in the darkness, most of the aides and junior officers avoided one another’s glances. A few men gazed meekly down into their laps, looking up only furtively with appreciative eyes. A few stared outright. “This specimen, gentlemen,” intoned Zaftig’s voice out of the dark, “or, if you prefer, Private 1st Class Casey Rockland, is at present only one the world’s most perfectly-developed men. There are, of course, 19 other specimens.” Sam let out a low whistle. Ensign Tyler, to his immediate left, caught it. “There are 20 of these dudes?” Sam murmured to Tyler. “There’s a challenge for you, Sam. Never known you to turn your back on a challenge.” Tyler responded. “Shut the fuck up, Tyler, or no play time later.” Tyler smiled sardonically but said no more. Sam leaned back to enjoy the view. His brought his big hands behind his head, and leaned back in his seat to contemplate. He focused on the image of Casey’s crotch and allowed himself to dream, if just a little. Casey’s testicles bulged heavy and full in the sac of white Spandex, and the top quarter of the shaft of the penis spilled out and curved visibly downward before being enmeshed in the barely restraining pouch. The cock appeared flaccid, but no matter: the thickness was like tube of a flashlight, and the cock head bulged and pointed down with insistent heaviness. Under the thin sheath of Spandex, Sam could make out the long, curling, resting shaft, the rim of the bulbous cock head, the bulging cock head itself, the inviting piss slit, and the 2-softball scrotum. Curled tufts of iron black pubic hair spilled out from beneath the poser’s tightly hemmed edges. The poser straps strained mid-hips, threatening to burst from the weight. In the left and right side views, thick horseshoe triceps rippled along the battlefield-ready arms, their huge round sweep arcing backward. His pecs bloomed mightily, those taut brown nipples still tantalizingly pointing down. Lower, brick-like washboard abdominal muscles tapered into that impossibly slender yet powerful, vascular waistline. His obliques curved up and outward with menacing power. The roundness of the hard butt and the sweep of Casey’s hamstrings jutted past the back of the line of his head. In the rear view, his deltoids upended mightily blending into mountainous traps, soaring into a thick network of back muscle. His legs were spread wide. Two tight globes of thick, oblong gluteus muscle curved below a rock-solid butt shelf of power. His rocky butt glistened with sweat and oil: a blissfully full, solid, fatless furnace of power. Each splendidly ripped butt cheek appeared to be glancing slightly to the side, barely opening the center spread. Mr. Rockland’s poser was as inadequate going as it was coming, and unable to hide the deep red cherry butthole, which glowed invitingly around the right edge of the tight thin strap that traveled and sank into deep, darkened buttcrack. Below, the exponentially huge, shaped and separated hamstrings exploded, supported by freaky split calf muscles. Get a grip, Victor, Sam thought to himself. It’s just a picture. In his loose white Navy uniform slacks, Sam felt his own cock twitch longingly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and reaching down surreptitiously beneath his regulation belt, his slipped his hand into his rapidly knotting underwear. He rearranged his package. Next to him, Tyler was doing the same thing. They caught each other’s eyes, and in spite of themselves had to suppress immediate blasts of explosive mirth. “Quiet, back there!” barked Walrus. Then: “We came here tonight to see a fucking muscleman?” he said dangerously to Zaftig. Tyler was suddenly seized with a fit of coughing, and Sam busied himself with his laptop, seemingly taking serious notes. Lucky he thought to bring it, he mused. It was covering a fierce erection, now pushing protestingly out of his tight uniform trousers. “I think you’ll find all the men interesting, Admiral Walrus. This specimen, Casey Rockland is 19 years old. He is 6’- 7” tall,” said Zaftig, now in full control. “He weighs 335 pounds. Casey was enrolled in the project formally only a few months ago, when he was just 18. Already he has made extraordinary gains.” Sam noted that the men on either side of him seemed to be breathing more heavily. His cock stirred heavily in his pants, and Tyler was still fooling around with something in his lap. He glanced down the line. Even in the half-light of auditorium he could see that all of the men were beginning to sprout fierce trouser trouts. Even the straight men. “Hmmm,” he thought to himself. “I wonder…” Zaftig continued. “Casey has 1.5% bodyfat. He’s in splendid health, his heart very slightly enlarged perhaps, but his blood pressure holds at an even 130/80. Casey’s lungs are clear. To our knowledge, he has never in his life smoked a cigarette. He can run almost 30 miles per hour for 2 to 3 hours at a stretch. He bench-presses 800 pounds, and can easily perform single arm curls at 160 pounds. He squats easily with 500 pounds, and has been known to do deadlifts of 600 pounds in a set of 25 repetitions.” Zaftig coughed modestly. “Casey is also an accomplished gymnast, and can hold an iron cross on the rings without moving for 5 minutes. His extreme flexibility enables him to land from a flying dismount into a full 180 degree split.” Baby, breathed Sam to himself. Come to daddy. He licked his lips just a little. Tyler was taking short, shallow breaths, as if he was hyperventilating. “Calm down,” Sam chuckled to Tyler, who was trying in vain to appear neutral. Tyler elbowed him sharply. “You calm down…” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Sam smiled and ignored him. “Go, man, go!” came a breathless voice from down at the end of the row. Clearly Sam and Tyler weren’t the only men excited by what they were seeing. Zaftig clicked his remote. A new slide appeared with Casey holding a front double biceps pose. “Casey has 26 inch biceps,” Zaftig continued. “His waistline measures 30” after a heavy meal. His quadriceps are 32 inches, and his chest, when expanded, measures a rather staggering 69 inches. His calves and his forearms are, respectively, 20 inches and 25 inches.” Yes, I was going to ask about Casey’s dimensions, Sam thought wickedly. He glanced right and left and observed his colleagues were probably wondering, with various degrees of personal interest, the same thing. “He eats 8 times a day, about 15,000 calories daily, a special diet of lean meat protein, clean animal fat, and low carbs. He drinks between 5 to 8 gallons of water during the course of a normal day. He trains 4 days a week, and the other three days he is required to remain at full body rest and in meditation, so that his body may fully recover and continue the growth process. His workouts are not shade less than brutal. Still, we are very careful not to overtrain any of the men, but because of Casey’s particular passion for heavy bodybuilding, in his case, we have to be unusually strict and watchful. He’d be in the gym day and night if we allowed it. Fortunately, over the years, we’ve learned better.” “I’ll bet you have,” thought Sam. “Casey’s also a black belt in karate and could be a champion extreme fighter – that is, if I ever let him out of the lab.” Zaftig smiled devilishly. “He has a mean left hook,” he added. “He can knock a 250 pound man unconscious with a single punch. His vision far better than 20/5 – what you can see at 5 feet, he can see at 20. Casey doesn’t drink or do drugs. And he has never in the three years we have worked with him here at Valhalla had so much as a gram of processed sugar. In short, gentlemen, Casey Rockland is a perfectly-developed male specimen.” One of the 1-star generals on the Committee blurted out. “Doesn’t do drugs,” General Needling echoed, as if appalled. “That’s a steroided physique if I ever I saw one!” he shouted. Walrus frowned. Another officer, General Wampum, added his harsh agreement. “He’s Ahhh-nold,” came a deep voice from somewhere in the junior officer row. “I’ll beeee beck.” Some chuckles, immediately silenced when Walrus, without turning around, sharply lifted an index finger to one ear. The men were clearly covering their growing excitement with feeble jokes. Zaftig continued. “On the contrary, gentlemen, there are no contraband controlled substances anywhere in Casey’s bloodstream. He’d test negative for any drug. No growth hormone, no insulin, no pain blockers. Nothing synthetic. I assure you there have never been any sort of street drug protocols at any time in Casey’s extraordinary development. Casey receives nightly injections of P-21, Valhalla Labs patented muscle-building enzyme, painstakingly developed by our technicians a decade ago, and unavailable to the general public. All of Project Herculaneum’s subjects receive nightly injections. There are no negative side-effects of any kind to P-21.” He paused for effect. “And it is not a steroid.” Zaftig let that sink in. Admiral Walrus snorted. He didn’t believe a word of this crap. He’d had enough, and the meeting wasn’t 3 minutes old. “What the hell are you talking about, Zaftig?” demanded Walrus. “Is this how you’ve been spending your Pentagon contract? Is this what you’ve brought us across the country from D.C. to see? A muscleman?! Some gym freak? Goddamn it, man!” “Admiral Walrus, sir, “ said Zaftig, his voice lowered to easy familiarity, “let’s just look at the facts. Casey Rockland is no ‘gym freak.’ He’s not simply “a muscleman.” Casey is the result of years of pain-staking research, protocols, hard-core training, and delicate systemic honing. He and the other 19 men we are presenting to you tonight are uniquely developed physically perfect beings. They are trained to exert control in all situations, and to follow orders to the letter. To the letter, I might repeat.” I can think of a few orders I could issue, thought Sam, shifting in his seat. Once again, his twitching cock was beginning to bind in his shorts. He mused if such wishful thinking might indeed have a payoff. The Generals murmured in low tones to Walrus, who nodded fiercely. “He looks – what did you call it?” Needling whispered again to Walrus. “He looks Photoshopped! How do we know this is real? No man looks like this!” Zaftig turned and faced the group. “Gentlemen, I assure you, there’s no trickery here,” he confided with a touch of theatricality. “Zaftig, this is a waste of our time.” Walrus started to get up as if to leave. The other officers stirred, hesitating. Zaftig resumed pacing. “Gentlemen, I confess, I’m disappointed. In fact, I’m speechless. You think this is all pure speculation?” He gestured at the figure on the screen. “Theory? Scientifically uncertain? Wish fulfillment, perhaps? Photoshop?” He paused for effect, and turned to a tall, lanky, owl-like man hovering at the end of the first row. “Dr. Shaft? Perhaps you might confirm to the Admiral…..?” He waited smugly. The Joint Chiefs personal physician, Dr. Shaft, was invariably called in as a paid expert on any matter remotely medical, for which service he balanced his time between coasts, living half his life with his annoying socialite wife of 35 years in an impressive Chevy Chase McMansion near the Washington, D.C. beltway, the other in a smaller, more secluded ocean-front home off the Pacific Palisades. Shaft had remained silent and withdrawn up to now. He turned meekly to Admiral Walrus, cleared his throat and spoke nervously. “Admiral Walrus….requesting your indulgence, sir, but Dr. Zaftig is quite correct. Casey – and the other 19 muscle specimens – does indeed exist. And his specifications and dimensions are just as Dr. Zaftig is presenting them to be tonight.” Walrus grunted. “After all, Admiral Walrus,” said Zaftig smoothly, “Dr. Shaft is your own representative in Project Herculaneum.” “And they’re all living here in this compound?” he demanded. “Now? Tonight?” “Yes, sir. They’re all in residence here at Valhalla Labs. You can see them for yourself in a few minutes, if you wish. In fact, we have planned on it.” A moment passed. Walrus resumed. “Get on with it, then,” he muttered. “It’s a waste of my time, but get on with it.” He snorted. “Admiral Walrus, sir,” said Dr. Shaft, placating him with superior charm. “Dr. Zaftig and the team at Valhalla are indeed introducing a species of super-beings. I have had the opportunity to personally review them myself in the not-too-distant past.” For years, Dr. Shaft had upon occasion enjoyed the discreet company of out of town young male visitors from Venice, California in his West Coast home, whose ‘careers’ on the bodybuilding competition stage he had generously funded. When Zaftig’s informant, one retired pro bodybuilder by the name of Miles Donovan, revealed Shaft’s little secret, Zaftig knew he had an ally, if an unwilling one, amongst the Joint Chiefs. He’d played his cards right, and covertly brought Shaft in months before for an unofficial unveiling. Shaft had been stunned into fawning speechlessness, and gratefully accepted a deal in exchange for support. Zaftig found the man useful but repugnant. And now - review the men? Is that what he calls it? “Let’s not exaggerate, Dr. Shaft. I haven’t created a species. After all, I’m not Victor Frankenstein,” Zaftig said humorously. “Aren’t you?” asked Dr. Shaft. “Who are they? Where did they come from?” asked General Wampum, glaring at Shaft. “They all came to me on their own at different times during the last 18 years,” replied Dr. Zaftig. “On their own, they were already splendid specimens, ranging in age from 18 to 40. Though I searched them all out personally, no one was recruited. Moreover, their dedication to this project is unquestioned.” Zaftig’s audience began to murmur. “This is crazy,” said Wampum. “Crazy?” Zaftig responded, his voice raising. “Crazy, you say? I assure you, General Wampum, these men are real and at the height of their development.” The officers all seemed to speak at once. “Perhaps, to satisfy your doubts, I might pause and take some of your questions now.” “They’re volunteers?” “Are they soldiers or civilians?” “What are their backgrounds?” “How about their general health? Are they medical freaks?” “Are they even Americans?” Walrus demanded to know. “Are they even human?” asked Wampum. “Dr. Zaftig, I have a question.” Sam raised his hand. Walrus half turned, but nodded, permitting the question. Ensign Victor may look like just a pretty boy, but he has brains and guts, Walrus thought. His gesture silenced the group, and he allowed the Ensign the floor with a slight nod of his head. “You haven’t mentioned I.Q. How sharp is Casey’s intellect?” For the first time so far that evening, Zaftig seemed to hesitate. He recovered instantly, but Sam caught momentary crack in the façade. “Casey has the normal requirements of intelligence for a gifted soldier,” he answered. Aha. “This man’s a soldier? He’s enlisted in the US Army?” demanded Admiral Walrus. General Wampum preened a little. “Casey Rockland holds the rank of Private 1st Class in the US Army,” repeated Zaftig, but offered no more information. “Dammit, Wampum, why didn’t you know this?” Walrus demanded. General Wampum stopped preening and slumped in his seat. General Needling came to his defense. “We didn’t know any more about this than you did, Walrus,” he growled. Zaftig turned back to the image of flexing Casey, resuming his presentation as if nothing had happened. He brought his pointer up, lightly touching the tip to the biceps of the left arm. “Note the triple biceps head,” he continued. “The unusually separated deltoids, and the dynamically thick trapezius muscles.” His pointer lightly tapped each muscle group as he spoke. “You see the unusually dense vascularity. Also, pay special attention to Casey’s thin skin. Men with this low bodyfat are often cold, their own bodies incapable of supplying sufficient heat, and their skin can be fragile. Casey is never cold. His metabolism prevents it. And his skin is as tough as rawhide.” I’ll just bet, thought Sam. Zaftig clicked through a series of images showing Casey stripped down in different posing straps, in a various array of training room shots and routines. He lingered on a final image of Casey in a deep leg squat, a barbell of several hundred pounds weight resting easily on his shoulders. His hams were so thick they almost touched the floor. Behind him his butt curved powerfully upward. Far from grimacing at the colossal weight, Casey’s handsome face appeared serene. The auditorium pinged with tense silence. The officers stared hard at Dr. Zaftig. Zaftig gazed calmly back, his mouth now a thin line of determination. Behind him at the head of the table, the screen was frozen with Casey in deep squat suspension, the only light in the dimmed room. Zaftig resumed airily. “Casey Rockland and the other 19 perfectly-developed specimens not only are living and training full time in this very facility, they’re thriving. Within this very complex, these 20 perfect men completed their second shift in another day’s hard training protocol 30 minutes ago. They’ve showered and changed two levels below us while we’ve been talking. In fact, they’re not more than 100 feet away from where you’re sitting now.” Sam’s ears perked up. Zaftig placed his palms on the dais table and leaned in towards the uniformed officers. “I am ready to present them to you now, if you wish.” He let the statement sink in for impact, and pushed away from the table. Behind the Generals and Admiral Walrus, the Junior Officers shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. All except Sam. This is getting interesting, he thought. “Perhaps I should do just that,” Dr. Zaftig said, “We might amend the agenda tonight. I think we need to break a little early. You all probably want to see the results for yourselves. Only then can you make an informed determination for your report.” He crossed toward the stage apron and turned to the group. “If you will all will be so good as to accompany me into the lab?” Confusion. The officers look dumbly at one another. Even Walrus said nothing. No one moved. Zaftig clicked his remote again, and the screen rose. “Dr. Irving?” he called out, climbing the stairs to the stage. “We’re coming into the lab now. Get the men ready.” He flicked some switches on a panel and the stage lights came up. At the back of the stage, a white-coated lab technician appeared, opening double doors. Beyond, the white glare of Valhalla Laboratories was revealed. “Admiral Walrus, Dr. Shaft, General Needling, Gentlemen: if you’ll all follow me.” Zaftig turned without a backward glance and crossed the stage to the opened lab doors. He turned and beckoned the group to follow him. A moment later the group rose, and with some uncomfortable putting away of laptops which had been hiding bulges, and with embarrassing shifting of slacks and trousers, which told the telltale signs of arousal, they crossed the stage and entered the lab. And with the notable exceptions of Walrus and Wampum, Zaftig noted with some satisfaction, that every man in uniform was sporting a straight-ahead trouser trout bulge. ******* Click below for the next chapter! "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - Inside Zaftig's Lab: The Musclemen Revealed
  8. Photo Booth Pecos Billy.doc PHOTO BOOTH: (PECOS) BILLY BY GLAMROCKCOWBOY BASED ON A STORY CONCEPT BY AARDVARK2 (Author's note: I am grateful to Aardvark2 for giving me permission to use his “photo booth” stories as a framework for my own writing. He specifically asked me to include elements, not only of muscle growth, but of overall transformation in appearance as well. Since I am a long-time fan of the “glam rock” and “glam metal” bands of the 1980's and early 1990's, when I proposed writing stories along those lines within the “photo booth” framework, he enthusiastically agreed. This particular story was inspired by this year's Tournament of Roses Parade. I was deeply disappointed when the major networks deliberately chose not to include ANY of the nearly 2 dozen equestrian units that participated in the Parade in their television coverage, despite the fact that horsemanship, in all its various forms (including rodeo, thank you very much!) is as much a sport as the much-vaunted football game known as the Rose Bowl! Thankfully, the RFD-TV cable network DOES include the equestrian units in its coverage! I hope you enjoy this re-posting!) It was a cold, raw, dismal afternoon in early January as a slender youth got off the bus and hurried through the mall's main entrance. 18-year-old Billy Johannson shivered slightly as he pulled down the hood of his nondescript gray sweatshirt, exposing a lion's mane of rich, golden hair that stretched down to the bottom of his shoulder blades. The face that was paired with those golden tresses, however, while fairly good-looking, was weary and haggard from grief and suffering. Billy's parents had recently been killed when a drunk driver had plowed head-on into their car at over 90 miles an hour. Their insurance had proved to be just barely sufficient to pay off the mortgage on their home. The drunk driver's family had chosen to contest their insurance company's proposed settlement in court. Billy's lawyer had glumly informed him that the trial could be months away due to the current backlog in the court system. As if that had not been bad enough, the IRS had slapped a lien on the house, claiming that they should have been paid off first, despite the fact that Billy had had no say in the matter. Although Billy had already graduated from high school, he had been unable to find a job locally, and, owing to bureaucratic snafus, his matriculation at the State University had been delayed until the following year. Thankfully, his financial aid, consisting entirely of grants and scholarships, was still secure. Even so, Billy realized that, unless a job came along fairly soon, he could wind up homeless in spite of everything. He wandered aimlessly from one end of the mall to the other, looking for any signs that might indicate a job opening of some kind. There were none, however, largely due to the recent conclusion of the holiday shopping season. While there was in fact a fair amount of post-holiday traffic in the various shops and stores, Billy realized that it was minuscule compared to the recent pre-holiday frenzy. Even the fast-food restaurants at the mall had regretfully told Billy that they would not be doing any hiring for the time being. As he passed the large Western clothing store that was his personal favorite among all the shops in the mall, Billy could not help wincing. He had always wanted to be a cowboy—or at least to dress the part—but his parents, who were city folks through and through, had arrogantly forbidden anything of the sort. He paused for a moment and gazed wistfully at some of the fancier items in the window, all now on sale after the holidays. He remembered that the network that had broadcast the recent Tournament of Roses Parade had arrogantly refused to include any of the numerous equestrian squads and units from the Parade in its television coverage, despite the numerous complaints and protests from viewers and cable network subscribers. Thankfully, a competing network was aware of the situation, and had made a special point of doing a special about the Parade, and particularly the equestrian units, many of whose trappings included elaborate, richly-decorated western parade saddles, bridles, and other riding accessories and clothing. Billy, a long-time fan of western parade gear, had fairly drooled over the outfits featured during the program, and so had the friends and schoolmates who had watched the special with Billy at his home after his parents' funeral. Reluctantly, with a sigh of despair, Billy turned away from the Western store's window display, and headed back toward the food court. Since school had just let out for the day, he was not surprised when he was accosted by several of his friends. Aware of Billy's tight finances, they insisted on treating him to a good, solid meal. Billy gratefully accepted their generosity, and sat down to chat with his friends, several of whom were on his own high school's rodeo team. The group chatted amiably about the re-cent Rose Parade and the team's chances of going to the National High School Finals Rodeo in Wyoming at the end of the school year. As the group finished their meal and prepared to break up, each of them in turn gave Billy a warm hug, promising to be on the lookout for any job possibilities for him. Billy thanked them warmly, and then headed back out to the mall's main concourse to make one more sweep for any possible job openings before returning home. In the course of making his way back toward the main entrance, Billy, on impulse, stopped in the mall's major bookstore. As he perused the magazine section, he found several cowboy-oriented magazines. He sat down in an armchair near the racks and perused the magazines rapidly. One of them contained a se-ries of articles about the extravagant parade saddles and vintage clothing styles of the 1930's, 40's and 50's, and even into the early 1960's. Billy shook his head in wonder at the gorgeous black-and-white and full-color photographs and illustrations displaying the works of such artists and artisans as Ted Flowers and, especially, Edward H. Bohlin. Returning the magazines to the rack, Billy began making his way back toward the store's mall entrance. Again, however, his attention was diverted, this time by a book. The volume, entitled, “American Hair Metal,” explored the “glam rock” and, especially, the “glam metal” bands of the 1980's and early 1990's. Billy was intrigued to notice that many of these bands included articles of Western apparel in their wardrobes, both on and off stage, especially cowboy boots, many of which were custom-made in some of the most extravagant styles he had ever seen. As he replaced the volume in the sales rack, Billy next saw a large paperback that almost made his heart stop. It was one of several works by the late Tyler Beard on the subject of western boots and western apparel. Billy's eyes grew wide, and his mouth fell open in awe, as he beheld the numerous and lavish styles of cowboy footwear within its pages. Then, with a groan of despair, he put down the volume and made his way back out into the mall's main concourse. He was still shaking his head sadly as he passed the mall arcade, which was strategically located next to the mall's main entrance. Unlike many of his peers, Billy was not normally a game enthusiast. For this reason, he might have passed the arcade by without a second glance—except for the sight of an exceptionally large photo booth just inside the entrance. Although Billy had seen such devices before, he had never used one, nor had he ever seen one this big. Curious, he slowly meandered toward it. As he did so, he could not help thinking to himself that this particular photo booth was easily large enough to hold any of a number of musclemen he had seen depicted on the Deviant Art website. One such image in particular came to his mind—namely, a morphed image entitled, “Beach Muscle Dream—N Tribute—Biggest,” by the artist known simply as “noname.” He had been especially attracted by this particular morph from the moment he had first set eyes on it, at least partially because the subject looked as though he were about Billy's own age. As he pondered whether or not he should actually use the machine, another thought came to his mind: What if, he thought to himself, such a teenaged behemoth were also a cowboy—perhaps even a glam-rocking cowboy, with hair and gonads to match the rest of his enormous physique? The very thought of such a thing was so incongruous that it made him chuckle. As he sat down inside the photo booth, and inserted a quarter, for a moment he actually imagined what he would look like if such a transformation ever took place. He actually laughed out loud as he pus his hand on the scanner, with the image of him-self as a super-muscular, glam-rocking teen cowboy still in his mind. Then the flashes began. The first flash not only blinded him for a moment, but almost caused Billy to fall off the machine's stool. “What the--” he began to cry out, then halted in his tracks. His voice had suddenly dropped more than an octave in pitch. Furthermore, as he settled back on the stool, there was enough of a reflection in the machine's camera mechanism to show that Billy was now wearing the biggest, most extravagant cowboy hat he had ever laid eyes on. Furthermore, a rich black satin neckerchief, with long, silken fringe was tied around his throat—a throat that was now the size of a marble column! As he prepared for the next flash, Billy noticed that his face was now considerably handsomer, to the point where he would have every reason to be called a glam-rock “pretty boy,” much like Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran, Adam Lambert, or even a Japanese rock star such as Kamijo of the recently-disbanded “Versailles Philharmonic Quintet.” He was even wearing makeup, in a smoky, sultry color scheme that even included touches of silver and turquoise! A moment later, the second flash erupted. Again, Billy almost fell off the seat. This time, however, he was better prepared for it, and he promptly resettled himself. As he did so, he saw that this time his arms, chest, and shoulders had swollen to herculean proportions, and were now sheathed in a huge, white satin, vintage-style Western shirt. The shirt was heavily embroidered in various western motifs, and was further embellished with rhinestones, sequins, and long, beaded fringe, all of which were in a rainbow of colors. Suddenly, as he prepared for the next flash, Billy realized what was happening to him. Somehow, the device's scanner had picked up on his thoughts—on the images he had conjured up in his mind—and was somehow transforming him to conform to those images. He also remembered reading that, traditionally, a real cowboy dressed himself from the top down when getting up in the morning, even to the point of putting his hat on first! That being the case, Billy surmised, he could next expect to be put into a pair of either jeans or Western slacks (sometimes referred to as “ranch pants”), to say nothing of the enlargement of his legs and gonads. Seconds later, the third flash exploded in Billy's face. This time, he just barely managed to keep his seat. As his eyes recovered, Billy saw that his expectations had been fully realized. His abs, glutes, intercostals, and back muscles were all swelling with incredible power—power such as Billy had never dreamed of. Meanwhile, Billy's shoulders were broadening with lightning speed, until finally they felt as wide as a barn door, and looked that wide as well. Meanwhile, his pectorals were swelling to the size of giant watermelons—so big, in fact, that he could no longer see over them! As if that weren't enough, his traps were now so high and thick that they almost swallowed up his neck altogether! Suddenly, there was a fourth flash, and Billy quickly became aware of a growing pressure in his groin. As he looked at the scanner's mirror in awe, Billy saw his sex organs swelling to an incredible size, while his thighs ballooned outward, eventually reaching the size of giant pumpkins. His calves were inflating, too, finally achieving the size of soccer balls, and then growing even larger, until at last they were as big as medicine balls. Then, as if that weren't enough, Billy saw his glutes swell and firm up into the biggest, tightest, sexiest looking “bubble butt” he had ever dreamed of! A moment later, a pair of rich black leather jeans, lined in equally rich black satin, appeared around his lower extremities, with so-called “keystone” belt loops, covered with silver studs, and a waistband that held a 3-inch wide, heavily-studded, black patent leather belt, cinched in front by what simply had to be the biggest, most lavishly-jeweled oval belt buckle he had ever laid his eyes on, fashioned of gold, silver, and even platinum! It was so huge, in fact, that it all but covered his incredibly muscular abdomen! Another moment, and a magnificent pair of knee-high cowboy boots appeared on his lower legs, in rich black patent leather, covered with gold and silver studs, with super-high, undershot riding heels, needle-point toes, and even platform soles! Then a few seconds later, multiple loops of alternating gold, silver, and platinum chains appeared, hanging from his boot tops, and extending all the way to the point where the two halves of each boot were joined together. As Billy marveled at his increasingly decadent appearance, he remembered that many glam rock and glam metal bands had worn such lavishly-decorated boots and chains, both on and off stage. Only a moment later, an incredible pair of spurs made their appearance. The straps that held them in place were covered with silver and turquoise studs, while the spurs themselves were heavily inlaid in gold and silver. The spinners on the spurs, better known as rowels, were huge, in the old Mexican style, and had two jingle bobs on each side of each spur. To complete the look of supreme cowboy “bling-bling,” each spur had no less than four loops of gold and silver chains underneath the arch of each boot! By now, Billy was shaking his head in wonder at this awesome transformation—but he quickly learned that the machine wasn't done with him yet, for a moment later, there was a fifth flash. As the young glam metal cowboy shook his head to clear his eyes, he gasped in awe as he now beheld a pair of west-ern parade-style “chaparejos” (Spanish for “leggings” or “leg armor”), in the so-called “batwing” style, encircling his enormously-muscled legs. Billy had seen pictures of such “chaps” before, but these were far and away the most lavishly-adorned parade-style leggings he had ever beheld. Not only were the batwings themselves at least twice the size of any others he had ever seen, but virtually every square inch of them was embellished with jeweled studs, conchos, and even chains, in gold, silver, and even platinum! Then, as if to complete the outfit, a few moments later, there was a sixth and final flash. As Billy had halfway expected, this time, a waist-length, fringed leather coat, along with a pair of long, gauntletted gloves appeared. Both items complemented the chaps and spurs to utter perfection, including long, silver-studded fringe, and even multiple loops of alternating gold, silver, and platinum chains draping down from his incredibly broad, gigantically muscular shoulders, extending halfway down his freakishly huge arms! Billy slowly got to his feet, as the strip of pictures came out of the delivery slot. Almost reverently, the young giant, now a full foot taller than he had been before—another 6 inches taller than that, counting the height added by his new boots—picked up the strip of pictures and slid them into his inside coat pocket. Taking a final look at himself in the machine's scanner mirror, Billy swallowed hard as he realized that he was now, in fact, every bit as big as the “Beach Muscle Dream” picture he had imagined. He carefully made his way out of the machine. For whatever reason, Billy felt compelled to turn back toward the photo booth for a moment and whisper simply, “Thank you!” A moment later, he seemed to hear the machine reply, “You're welcome!”--not audibly, but telepathically somehow. As he began strutting and swaggering toward the mall's main entrance—his muscles were far too large now to allow him to walk normally any more—Billy began to ponder how he could possibly make his way home in his incredibly outlandish new outfit without either causing a riot or being robbed. Neither scenario particularly appealed to Billy, although he sensed that his new size and strength would deter any possible robbers from attacking him. Even so, he could not help enjoying his new-found power, to say nothing of the “jingle-jangle-jingle” from his spurs and chains as he headed toward the automatic sliding doors, which opened well in advance of his approach. He was about to head for the bus stop just a few yards away from the entrance when he heard his name being called. Turning on his new high heels, Billy was delighted when he spotted two of his friends from the high school rodeo team. They were brother and sister—fraternal twins, in fact—and were standing next to the most awesome “mega-stretch” limousine Billy had ever laid eyes on. “Need a ride home, cowboy?” Don Jamison asked, a wicked grin on his incredibly handsome face. “Boy, do I ever!” Billy replied, as he hugged and kissed Don and his sister, Jenny. As he joined his two friends in the super-luxury vehicle, Billy suddenly realized that his financial problems were over, although he had no idea how or why. In fact, he somehow sensed that both he and his two friends were now after-tax multi-multi-millionaires. As the limo pulled away from the mall's main entrance, Jenny explained that the rodeo team was forming a separate equestrian parade unit, and invited Billy to join them. “We have a Palomino super-stallion that should be just perfect for you to ride,” she said with a knowing, wicked grin on her gorgeous face. Suddenly Billy realized that he had a parade saddle and bridle outfit back at his house that would match what he was wearing to utter perfection. Instead of his old house, Billy now had a luxury ranch of his own located next door to that of his two friends. As Billy shook his head, wondering how all of this could have taken place, his two fellow buckaroos grinned knowingly. “You just came out of that photo booth, right?” Don inquired. Billy did a double-take as he realized what his best friend was saying. “You guys, too?” he whispered. Don nodded. “We don't know how, and we don't know why that machine does what it does, but we're sure not gonna argue with the results!” “You know something? Neither am I!” Billy replied, as his two comrades joined him in a deep, rich, throaty laugh. He pulled his two best buds close and hugged them for a long moment, then pulled the girl of his dreams into his lap and gave her a deep, rich kiss as the limo pulled out into the early evening traffic.
  9. * Now Complete * This chapter will start with a brief excerpt from JP EPISODE 21: THE SMILE: the last part of that chapter that takes place in July 2005. Then I will extrapolate events from there for this chapter. As always, any parts of the JP story are reproduced with permission from the author, as I mentioned in Chapters 1 and 2. Also, as always: the illustrated version of the Chapter can be found here: http://seanspictures.webs.com/andrewmeetsjppart3.htm It took the rest of the morning, but JP and I soon returned to our normal routine. I went over to his house for our daily workout and then we went running in a nearby park. The whole world felt different now that I had come out to my mom. She may only have been one person, but somehow, the weight on my shoulders was far easier to carry. Not only that, but it gave me another person to talk to. Although it would be awkward at first, eventually I knew that she would always be there for me. ================================================================================ Once Matt and JP arrived at Burke Lake Park near JP's house, they found their new friends Andrew, Mike and Carrie waiting for them in the parking lot. "Nice truck Andrew," JP said, admiring the sleek lines of Andrew's blue Dodge Ram Quad Cab. "Where did you get it?" he asked, as he stepped forward to shake Andrew's hand. "Thanks man," Andrew said, shaking his hand. "My dad bought it for me on my 17th birthday almost a year ago. That was right around the time he got promoted to Executive Vice-President, or Chief Operating Officer, of Harrington's Sports Suppliers." "Wow Andrew, your dad is the second-in-command of a big sports company?" JP asked in astonishment. "Yeah man, he's rich," Andrew bragged, revealing a slight hint of snobbishness that his friends had never seen before. "But then, after looking at the Fairfax County website, I realized that being rich is normal around here." "Yeah, but did you see the car I drove here?" JP asked his big friend, pointing to the green GTO behind him. He narrowed his eyes at Andrew: disapproving of his snobby attitude and added, "I was given my brother's old car as a hand-me-down! My parents didn't buy a brand new truck for me like your dad did for you!" "Actually, my truck is four years old; my dad bought it used, and I pay him monthly for it," Andrew corrected him with a smug grin. When he saw JP's look of disapproval fade into an approving grin, he laughed and added, "Did you really think I was that snobby and elitist JP? I guess I fooled you after all, didn't I?" "Yeah you did man," JP admitted with a sheepish grin. "See, you're not the only genius around here," Andrew reminded him, crossing his huge muscular arms over his massive chest. "My parents raised me to work for everything I have, including this impressive body of mine." He noticed JP smirking and added, "Now, we came here to work out our bodies, not just our minds JP. Are you ready?" "Yeah Andrew; how good are you at running laps?" "I do alright," Andrew replied modestly, realizing that JP hadn't seen much of his running since he usually played Centre. "Why do you ask? I thought we came here to throw my football around." "We'll do that later, and we'll also throw around my Navy Frisbee after we go swimming in the lake," JP promised him. "But first, there are a few miles of trails that go around the lake and through the woods. Matt and I tried them a week ago and we got quite a good aerobic workout that day." "You got more than I did JP, since you kept running for two more hours after I ran out of breath," Matt reminded him with an irritated look. "Yeah, but now I've found someone who can keep up with me," JP said with a smirk, revealing a hint of his old cocky attitude. "Yeah, I should be able to keep up with you, thanks these long massive legs of mine," Andrew predicted with a cocky smirk. He turned around and asked, "Are you coming with us Mike and Carrie?" Carrie was about to answer, but her jaw dropped in astonishment as Andrew peeled off his tight t-shirt. JP and Matt stared at Andrew's massively muscled torso in awe and more than a little fear. Mike, on the other hand, being just as big and muscular as Andrew, merely grinned with pride at the awesome build his mentor possessed. "Yes, we're coming with you Andrew," Mike replied. He began to peel off his skintight t-shirt and added, "I think I'll follow your lead and take off my t-shirt as well." It took a lot of effort and care for Mike to peel off his t-shirt without ripping it, but he disguised the difficulty of the task by plastering a cocky smirk on his face. This was designed to make his friends think that he was taking his t-shirt off really slowly in order to show off his massive muscles. Once Mike got his t-shirt off, he said, "There, that feels better; I was getting too hot." He grinned at the double meaning in his words, as he noticed Carrie staring at him with lust in her eyes and closed his eyes in pleasure as a cool breeze blew against his skin. "Oh yeah, that feels so good," he moaned, rubbing his massive pecs and eight-pack abs. "Stop showing off Mike!" Andrew laughed, though he was disguising his disapproval of his best friend's cockiness. "You're not the only muscle god around here you know!" Mike opened his eyes, but the first thing he saw was Matt and JP staring at him with their mouths open. "What's the matter guys: scared of my guns?" he asked, with a cocky smirk. He flexed his massive 24 inch biceps and added, "You'd better be, because they certainly don't fire blanks!" Andrew laughed at his protege's silly joke, while JP and Matt's looks of fear turned slowly into small grins. "Don't be scared guys, even though this is the first time you've seen our massive muscles in full daylight," Andrew advised them. He stepped forward to lay a massive hand on JP's shoulder, who only kept himself from recoiling in fear to look brave for Matt's sake. He couldn't keep his eyes from widening at the cords of muscle and the massive pulsing veins in Andrew's huge forearm. "We're all friends here," Andrew assured him, seeing the fear in his new friend's eyes. "You have nothing to worry about JP." "I'm not worried Andrew," JP bluffed, though he knew that Andrew could see the fear in his eyes. Andrew nodded knowingly: realizing that JP needed to keep up a brave and fearless image for the benefit of his boyfriend Matt. "I'm actually glad that you're a lot bigger than me or even my brother Ryan. If he was here and saw how big you are, he'd never make a dumb comment to me again!" "Don't tell him you're friends with me JP; I want to surprise him with that fact when I go on a recruiting visit to Virginia Tech this fall," Andrew ordered him. "What makes you think you'll see my brother Ryan on your recruiting visit?" JP asked, as he took off his t-shirt. He grinned smugly at Matt's look of lust and Carrie's look of astonishment. "Take off your t-shirt Matt; show off the body that Chrissy thought was so hot yesterday." Matt complied with JP's order and was pleased when his boyfriend gave him a wink of approval. Mike stepped up to him and said, "You're pretty ripped man, even though you're only half my size. I bet you could have taken that arrogant jerk who was bugging Chrissy if JP hadn't been there." Matt grinned at Mike's attempt to cheer him up, knowing that he wasn't even in his boyfriend's league as far as size and strength. While Matt and Mike were chatting, Andrew was informing JP that his recruiting visits that summer would be hosted by Red-Shirt Freshman. "I'm sure Ryan will fill the same role this fall, which should give me the chance to let him know that I'm good friends with you," Andrew informed him. He let a smug grin appear on his face as he rubbed his massive bicep and added, "He won't be so eager to cause you any more trouble once he realizes that you have such a huge muscular friend." "I hope you're right Andrew," JP said, secretly worried that seeing how big and strong Andrew was would motivate Ryan to become bigger and stronger himself. "It would be great if you could be the catalyst to repair my relationship with my big brother." "He's not your big brother; I am JP," Andrew teased him with a big grin. "He's just your older brother, which gives you the youth advantage." JP grinned back at Andrew, grateful as always that his huge muscular friend always knew how to cheer him up. "I don't mean to interrupt your bromance Andrew," Carrie teased him. Andrew glared at her with a twinkle in his eye and Carrie smirked back at him. "But I think that unlike you guys, I'll leave my t-shirt on. I'll certainly enjoy the view of your muscular bodies though," she added, sneaking a lustful look at JP. "The only muscles you get to enjoy seeing are mine Carrie," Andrew warned her with an angry glare. He reached out with one massive hand and gently, but firmly, turned her head back towards him. "I hate repeating myself, but in case no one got the message last night: you're my girlfriend and no one else's! Have you got that Carrie?" He loosened his grip on her chin just enough for her to give him a frightened nod. Andrew released his grip on her and turned to glare at the other three guys. "Has everyone got that message now?" he growled with clenched fists. "Yes we have Andrew," Mike replied, once he realized that Matt and JP were to scared to speak. He only felt a little nervous around Andrew's fierce temper, since he knew that Andrew had never hurt him in anger. He had an idea to ease the sudden tension and asked, "Hey Andrew, what do you call chest muscles on a rough ocean?" "I'm not going to guess Mike, just tell us," Andrew sighed with a small grin, recognizing Mike's tactic that always soothed his bad temper. "Bouncing pecs," Mike replied with a big grin, as he bounced his own pecs to demonstrate. Everyone laughed and the last traces of anger faded from Andrew's face. "Good one Mike; my turn." Mike nodded at Andrew to go ahead as JP led the group to the start of the trail around the lake. "What do you call arms that are lethal weapons?" "I have no idea Andrew; why don't you tell us?" Mike goaded him. "Loaded guns," Andrew replied with a cocky smirk, flexing his massive biceps. Everyone laughed as JP led them in a brisk jog down the first leg of the trail. "Okay one more," Mike promised them. "What do you use to wash your clothes when there's no washing machine handy?" "The lake?" JP guessed, pointing to their left where they could see Burke Lake through the breaks in the trees. "Nope, you use washboard abs," Mike replied, massaging his ripped eight-pack. Everyone laughed once again, shaking their heads at the silly, but cocky, puns of Mike and Andrew. For their part, Andrew and Mike were glad that their jokes had put everyone at ease, especially since they had seen Andrew's bad temper up close a few minutes ago. Andrew and Mike let JP and Matt lead the way down the trail, while Carrie followed behind them. As they ran, Andrew tried to think of a way he could let JP and Matt know that he knew their secret. He realized that only Mike could keep up with him, but then he also realized that Mike and Matt had spent a lot of time together with Carrie the night before. So Andrew just had to come up with an excuse to get JP alone, and Matt's earlier comment about being left alone while JP ran for two more hours popped up in his head. So, once Matt gets tired, then Mike and Carrie will wait with him back near the cars for JP and myself, Andrew realized. Then I can see just how far JP can run, since he won't be holding himself back to keep Matt from feeling bad. "So, will we take the trail all the way around the lake JP?" Andrew asked. "If you can keep up with me Andrew," JP teased him. "I wouldn't worry about Andrew keeping up with you, but we won't be able to JP," Matt reminded him. "Well, I'm not slowing down for you Matt; I have to keep in shape for wrestling next year," JP reminded him with a frown. "If Matt and Carrie get tired, I'll go back with them to the main part of the park," Mike offered, not letting on that he, like Andrew, would be able to keep up with JP with no trouble. "Thanks man, I'd appreciate that," Andrew said gratefully, pleased that he would soon be able to speak to JP alone. "You keep them company like last night and if any jerks try to start anything with Carrie, all you'll have to do is stand up to scare them away." Mike grinned at that idea and Andrew added, "I'm trusting you to keep an eye on Carrie when I'm not around Mike, as long as you don't try anything with her!" "Don't worry Andrew, I have enough internal discipline to comply with your orders to leave her alone in a social sense," Mike assured his big friend. A scary look of anger appeared on his face as he added, "But if anyone tries anything with her, we'll see how they like some external discipline thanks to my huge muscles!" Hopefully they won't like it like Matt would, JP thought suddenly with a smirk on his face. As he jogged effortlessly through the woods with Andrew and Mike beside him, he thought about how lucky he was to be spending this summer with his friends. Too bad Ryan couldn't be here, he thought to himself with a pang of regret. But perhaps Andrew's idea about revealing his friendship with me if he sees Ryan this fall will help me get back my relationship with my true big brother. "Hey JP, who is that Nick guy you were talking about just before we met last night?" Andrew asked him suddenly. "He's Chrissy's brother; you know: the girl you were about to save from those college jerks until I stepped in," JP replied. "I don't know if I thanked you for that yet." "Yeah you did JP, right after you asked me if I wanted a piece of you," Andrew reminded him with a steely glare. "That wasn't very polite of you, considering I was ready to defend Chrissy from those two jerks before you got there." "Sorry about that Andrew; I guess my mind was just clouded by rage," JP apologized. "Yeah, deflected rage at your brother," Andrew snapped, still mad at JP's rudeness when they'd first met. "If you ever feel you want to take me on, I'm right here!" "No thanks Andrew; at least not for real," JP assured him. "Your neck's so thick I don't think I could get my arm around it! And even if I could, it looks so hard and muscular I'd have no luck trying to choke you out!" "Keep that in mind Big Guy, just in case you think you're all that and then some," Andrew reminded him with a cocky smirk. "Shut up Andrew!"" JP laughed, throwing a punch at his big friend. Andrew still had his face turned towards him and JP's fist accidentally made contact with Andrew's jaw with a loud smack. "OWWW!" JP yelled, shaking out his sore hand. "I think I hurt myself!" "I didn't feel a thing," Andrew bragged. "Was that your best shot?" he asked, as they stopped at one of the path junctions. "No man," JP replied, massaging his sore hand. "But this is!" He suddenly lunged at Andrew, trying to pull his head down to get him in a choke hold. It seemed to be working at first, but then Andrew grabbed JP by the legs and hoisted him over his shoulders, breaking JP's grip on his neck in the process. Then Andrew grinned and extended his arms, holding JP up above his head with no effort. "Hold on tight JP; up and down you go!" Andrew laughed, as he began effortlessly shoulder-pressing JP. "Let me know when you've had enough!" After a couple of minutes, JP said, "Okay, that's enough Andrew. Put me down please." "Sure man, since you asked me nicely," Andrew said agreeably. He let JP down to his shoulders and then lowered him gently down to the ground. "There you go Big Guy: I put you down. Are you happy now?" "Yeah I am Andrew; thanks," JP said gratefully, feeling embarrassed that Andrew had so thoroughly dominated him. "Hey JP, how much can you bench?" Andrew asked him. "350," JP immediately replied, though it didn't seem as impressive as it had earlier in the week. "Good, then you should be able to bench-press me," Andrew realized. "I only weigh 305 so it should be easy for you." JP chuckled at Andrew's nonchalant way of saying that he 'only' weighed 305 pounds. "How do you do that Andrew?" JP asked in wonder. "Do what JP?" Andrew asked, as they jogged down a side path to look for a patch of grass to perform the human bench-press. "How do you make me feel better with just a few words?" JP asked him seriously. "Ryan would have tossed me to the ground and then kicked me in the gut for good measure if he had me above his shoulders!" "I've had lots of practice JP, mentoring little guys like you," Andrew replied, missing JP's look of anger at being called little. "As for your brother, are you sure he'd fight dirty like that?" "You don't know him like I do Andrew; in fact, you've never even met him!" JP snapped. "So believe me when I tell you: if I ever get him in a chokehold, I won't let up until I choke him out!" "I believe you JP," Andrew said seriously, as they entered a small grassy clearing in the woods. As their friends followed them onto the grass, Andrew added, "Get the digital camera ready Mike: I think we're about to witness history!" "Are you sure about this Andrew; won't you find it embarrassing being bench-pressed by someone who you outweigh by over 100 pounds of solid muscle?" JP asked him seriously. "I'm trying to make you feel better by showing you how strong you really are, and how you have nothing to fear from me," Andrew assured him. He motioned JP to lie down and added, "As you don't tag me in the balls by accident, everything will be fine." Carrie burst out laughing and Andrew shot a quick glare at her to keep her quiet, so that JP wouldn't figure out that they knew about him and Matt. JP lay down on the grass and extended his arms. Andrew carefully positioned himself lengthwise so JP's hands were on his chest and thighs. "Okay JP: let's go," Andrew said. "How many do you think you can do?" "I'll go for five reps," JP replied, slowly lowering Andrew down to his chest. He raised his arms with some effort, slowly lifting Andrew up until his arms locked at full extension. "So far so good Andrew: let's go for two!" JP yelled in excitement. He bench-pressed Andrew four more times before he had to signal Andrew to stand up. "Whew! That was a great chest workout Andrew!" JP panted, accepting Andrew's outstretched hand which pulled him to his feet effortlessly. "I knew you could do it JP," Andrew congratulated him, slapping him gently on the shoulder. "Good job Big Guy." "Thanks Andrew," JP said, smiling gratefully up at his mentor. "Can we start running again?" "After you shoulder-press me JP, just to be sure that you can handle a big guy like me," Andrew replied. "You do know how to pick someone up in a Fireman's Carry, don't you?" "Yeah, my dad taught me," JP replied, screwing up his face in determination. He was nervous about shoulder-pressing over 300 pounds, but then he remembered that he had just bench-pressed that same amount: five times! And I have my whole body to help me this time, so it should be easy! he suddenly realized. "Bring it on Andrew: I'm ready!" "That's it Big Guy," Andrew said, stepping closer and bending down so that JP could grab his legs and free arm. "Let's see what you've got! Go for ten reps!" JP grabbed Andrew around the legs and slowly straightened up, getting Andrew squarely across his shoulders. Then he adjusted his grip and began shoulder-pressing Andrew up and down. He grinned as he performed the first five reps easily, noticing Mike and Matt taking his picture. The next five reps were more difficult, but JP just gritted his teeth in determination and forced himself through them. Then he carefully let Andrew back down to the ground again; panting and massaging his sore chest and shoulders. "Great job JP," Andrew congratulated him, shaking his hand instead of slapping his sore shoulders. "I knew you could do it!" JP grinned as he tried to catch his breath. Andrew motioned the others back to the trail and stepped closer to JP until he was looming over him. He bent down so that only JP could hear him and whispered, "Now you know that you can take on Ryan with no problem, so don't worry about him anymore JP." "Thanks Andrew, I owe you Big Guy," JP said gratefully, now that he had his breath back. As they jogged back onto the path, he added, "You're a really great mentor." "I've had lots of practice JP and I'd be glad to pass on some tips so that you'll be ready to mentor Nick in about six weeks," Andrew offered. "That would be great Andrew, because Nick won't be the only wrestling hopeful I'll be mentoring at wrestling camp next month," JP said gratefully. "Well, I do know how to mentor two guys at once: I did it with my teammates Ralph and Connor two years ago," Andrew said modestly. He smiled as he remembered developing his two proteges into star football players by Grade 11. "Since they will be the starting quarterback and wide receiver respectively this season, it seems I did alright training them for high school football. We won the District Championship last season and this season we're going to win the Provincial Title!" "Wow Andrew, that's really impressive," JP congratulated his huge friend. "What about Mike here? Did you train him as well?" "Yeah man," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "Tell him how small you were when I first started training you almost seven years ago Mike." "5 foot even and 80 pounds," Mike replied sheepishly, feeling embarrassed that he had ever been that small. "You were about the same size as Nick is now," JP realized, glad that Chrissy had told him her brother's stats. "And look at you now: 305 pounds of solid muscle!" "And I stand 6 foot 6, so I loom over you just like Andrew does," Mike chuckled. He lifted JP up by his waist, even as they were still jogging down the path. "I'm the big man in this group, and don't you forget it!" JP's eyes narrowed in anger and he was about to punch Mike in the face when Andrew said, "Put him down Mike; I let him shoulder-press me to make him feel better and you're ruining it by lifting him up like a rag doll!" Mike stopped jogging, set JP down and went to ruffle his hair, but JP knocked his arm away swiftly. "Don't you even think of trying to touch me without my permission man, or I'll rip your arm off!" he growled in fury. "Whoa JP, calm down!" Andrew urged him, clamping a massive hand on JP's sore shoulder to hold him back as he lunged at Mike. JP winced and Andrew switched his iron grip to his arm instead. "Sorry about that man, but don't start anything with Mike: he's just as strong as I am and he could wipe the floor with you!" JP glared at Andrew over his shoulder, realizing that all of Andrew's efforts to make him feel better had just been ruined. "I think it's time our two group separated now," Matt suddenly suggested. "Why don't I take Carrie and Mike back to the cars while you and JP run some more until he calms down Andrew." "Good idea Matt; see you soon I hope," Andrew said, smiling at him. Matt grinned back and led Mike and Carrie back down the trail, but not before Mike gave JP one last smirk over his shoulder. Andrew frowned and shook his head until Mike's smirk vanished and then turned around to see JP glaring at him with clenched fists. "Go ahead JP, punch me in the face again," Andrew sighed. "I deserve it for being too late to stop Mike from lifting you up." JP hesitated suddenly; no longer wanting to punch Andrew now that he had his permission and slightly afraid of making his huge friend angry. "No it's okay Andrew," JP assured him, letting out a huge sigh and un-clenching his fists. "It's kind of my fault too, not just Mike's. To me, he was acting just like Ryan and I projected my anger at Ryan onto him." "Yeah you did JP and it would not have been amusing if you had tried to rip his arm off," Andrew warned him. "Even if you got a grip on his arm, he would have just lifted you off the ground effortlessly and given you an F-Five or something." "Just like Brock Lesnar would," JP realized with sudden understanding. "You never told me that you were a wrestling fan Andrew." "You never asked, but I know some wrestling moves too," Andrew said soberly. He looked at his watch and added, "But we've gotten way off topic and while we're alone now, it didn't happen the way quite the way I wanted it to." "Why did you want to be alone with me Andrew?" JP asked, feeling slightly nervous now that he was suddenly alone in the woods with such a huge muscular guy. "Not for anything sinister JP, so don't worry," Andrew assured him with a gentle smile. JP let out a sigh of relief and the fear slowly left his face. "You don't have to act so tough all the time JP; I know you're scared of how huge and strong I am," Andrew said, letting the smile fade from his face. "Yes I am Andrew; you told me yesterday that you could bench 800 pounds!" JP shouted in astonishment. "Is that a one rep max or a working weight?" "It was a one rep max and that's the literal truth because I haven't been able to do it again," Andrew replied. As they began jogging down the path again, he added, "My working weight is about 700 pounds for five reps." "That's over twice your weight Andrew and four times mine!" JP shouted in astonishment. "That's why your arms are so big and muscular!" "Yeah I was really happy the day my pythons got bigger than the Hulkster's," Andrew laughed. He flexed a massive bicep and kissed it softly before saying, "These puppies are sick but they don't need a vet!" "But anyone who gets in their way is going to need a hospital!" JP predicted, laughing at the cocky smirk on Andrew's face. "Thanks JP, I wasn't sure how to finish that bicep pun," Andrew said gratefully. "No problem Big Guy," JP said, patting Andrew on the shoulder. "That's 'Huge Guy' to you, Little Man," Andrew growled in mock fury. When he saw JP's eyes narrow in anger, he laughed and assured him, "I was just kidding man: you've got to learn how to take a joke!" "I know that Andrew, but I was just reminded of Ryan once again," JP sighed in frustration. "You're obsessed with your brother JP, but there's someone else you should be thinking about instead of him," Andrew advised him, recognizing his opening. When JP looked at him questioningly, Andrew added, "I'm talking about Matt; it's obvious that you love him man." "Yeah, like a big brother, which Ryan should have been," JP stated, hoping that Andrew hadn't seen Matt staring at him longingly during the fireworks the night before. "He's really filled a void in my life." "Just like Carrie did for me when we fell in love," Andrew said, finally deciding to state the obvious. JP's jaw dropped and a look of panic suddenly appeared in his eyes. "Don't worry man, I'm not grossed out or anything; don't forget: my country legalized same-sex marriage two years ago," Andrew assured him. "It's not that Andrew, but thanks for not being weirded-out," JP said gratefully. "It's just that Matt came out to his mom this morning about him and me dating and though she had already figured it out, it was still really uncomfortable when Matt told her. She's the only one who knows; I haven't even come out to my parents yet." "And I can't imagine that you'll ever come out to Ryan," Andrew realized, unable to even imagine how violent Ryan's reaction would be if he found out that his little brother was gay. "My lips are sealed man; I won't tell anyone, because Carrie already figured it out." "Do you think now that Matt's come out to his mom, he's going to tell Mike?" JP asked with a worried look on his face. "I don't think so and Carrie won't either, since she waited until she was alone with me to tell me that she knew about you and Matt," Andrew assured him. "But you might want to take Matt aside later and let him know that Carrie and I know about you two," he added. "It's only fair to him." "That's a good idea Andrew; thanks for thinking of that," JP said gratefully. As they got close to the parking lot with their cars in it, he reached up to Andrew's massive shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You're a really great guy Andrew and I'm glad that you've agreed to be my Honorary Big Brother." "I'll always be here for you JP and even for your protégé Nick, once I get to meet him of course," Andrew promised him. "Once I get to meet him in mid-August, I'll introduce you to him when we meet again," JP promised him. As they jogged within view of their friends, he asked Andrew, "Have we talked enough for one afternoon Big Guy? Are you ready for some football and Frisbee now?" "Yeah man; I have my Miami football in my backpack and I think I see Matt holding your Navy Frisbee," Andrew replied. "But before we begin, I think you and Mike should apologize to each other, so that there won't be any more trouble between you two." "Good idea man," JP said, switching back into the cocky jock he pretended to be when he was in a crowd. He stepped right up to Mike, no longer intimidated by his huge size, and held out his hand. "I'm sorry I got so mad at you earlier Mike: I was just projecting angry thoughts about my brother Ryan onto you." "Apology accepted JP," Mike assured him, gripping JP's hand gently in his huge meaty paw. "I owe you an apology as well, for acting just like Ryan probably does." "He hasn't put his hands on me for years, but he does act superior to me, just like you did earlier," JP realized. "But I accept your apology Mike and I can tell that you're not embarrassed to apologize to someone you outweigh by over 100 pounds of solid muscle!" "130 pounds to be exact, but what's a few dozen pounds between friends?" Mike asked him with a cocky smirk. "Funny man!" JP laughed, taking his Navy Frisbee out of his bag and throwing it at Mike's head. His eyes widened as Mike caught it quickly, with just one hand, and then fired it quickly back at JP. JP had to do a cartwheel to catch it, but the force of the throw knocked him off his feet. Mike started laughing but then his eyes widened as JP quickly rolled through the fall and back to his feet. "Most impressive Big Guy," Mike commended him. "I can see why you're such a threat on the wrestling mat." "Yeah man," JP said with a cocky smirk. "You may have caught me off guard before, but just try to lift me off the ground again! Next time I'll be ready for you!" "I'm sure you will JP," Mike assured him with an encouraging grin. "I can see why you're a District Finalist and next season you'll win Districts and then the State Championship in high school wrestling!" JP grinned with gratitude as he threw the Navy Frisbee back to Mike and their friends smiled in relief: pleased that JP's obsession with his brother Ryan was slowly fading into the background, at least for the time being. * THIS CHAPTER IS NOW CONCLUDED * Hope you enjoyed, I mean LIKED, it. LOL (Seriously though, thank you for the three likes so far). Coming soon: - Andrew and his friends meet JP's parents and Matt's mom for supper. - Their parents discuss what kind of influence Andrew and his friends will be on their sons.
  10. BRAINIAC: THE MEGA-BIKER BY GLAMROCKCOWBOY BASED ON THE “BRAINIAC” STORIES CREATED BY DAVIEK It was the day after Halloween, and Rob was recovering from the party in his apartment building the night before. All around the University neighborhood, there were smashed pumpkins cluttering up the sidewalks and roadways, despite the University's stern policies against such activities, and the equally stern punishments for those who got caught taking part in them. First offenders were required to help clean up the mess they had made. Repeat offenders were subject to disciplinary suspension, or even permanent expulsion from the University, a policy that Rob personally agreed with. In actual practice, the punishment for first offenders was usually more than sufficient to dissuade them from any further such incidents. This morning, however, as Rob was returning to his building after breakfast, he was disgusted to notice that a local gang of teenage bikers were making things even worse. They laughed and sneered as they smashed even more pumpkins on the roads and sidewalks. Because they were not connected with the University, they knew that University officials had no jurisdiction over them, and the local Juvenile Courts were too backed up with other cases to bother with them, even though they were committing vandalism, and creating both health and safety hazards, by their rebellious behavior. Fortunately, Rob was still too far away for the young hoodlums to notice his approach. Not wanting to become involved in the gang's activities—and definitely not wanting to have the gang turn on him and make him a target for the now-rotting fruit that was being flung around the area—Rob carefully made his way through a back alley towards the building's rear entrance. Just before he reached the back door, however, a young sophomore who was a friend of Rob's came through, heading for his own motorcycle, which was parked in an adjacent lot. To Rob's horror, the gang instantly made the young student their special target. Rob knew that if one of those pumpkins struck the fleeing youth, he would almost certainly suffer a concussion or other serious injury. If, on the other hand, they managed to hit the so-phomore's bike, it would be seriously damaged, and quite possibly destroyed altogether. Rob knew that his schoolmate was on full financial aid, and would not be able to afford the cost of any repairs that might be required, let alone buy a replacement motorcycle if that should be necessary. Because of the high number of incidents resulting from this kind of vandalism, the sophomore's motorcycle insurance policy excluded any such damage from coverage. The State Insurance Department was now contesting the exclusion in court, but Rob knew that, given the current backlog in the court system, it might well be years before a decision was handed down, and that any such decision would almost certainly be appealed. Thus, if the young sophomore's bike were hit, he would effectively be without transportation for the remainder of his college career. Suddenly, to Rob's horror, a member of the gang managed to fling an unusually large pumpkin directly at the sophomore's head. Rob instantly realized that, if it made contact, his young schoolmate would be killed instantly, or would at least suffer a broken neck or spine, either of which would cripple his friend for life. “STOP!” he yelled, at the very top of his lungs. To Rob's immense relief, as it had so many times in the past, time throughout the universe came to a complete standstill. The familiar computer in-terface made its appearance, and Rob prepared to make a series of changes to correct the situation—and with compound interest! Walking up to the young ssophomore, Rob commanded, “Select object. Edit.” He then paused and studied his young schoolmate for a few seconds, carefully considering the changes he wanted—and needed—to make. This, he decided, was a somewhat different case from most of the people he would nor-mally use his special gift on. While it was obvious that a number of changes in this young man's situation would be both necessary and beneficial, he decided against giving his schoolmate an entirely new identity, which would have been his normal practice. Nevertheless, Rob already knew that his schoolmate was intensely interested in becoming a glam metal rock musician, as well as a bodybuilder. Well, Rob decided, he would give his friend that—and a lot more besides! Rob's first act was to improve his schoolmate's physical characteristics. “Increase subject's musculature by 500%,” he snapped. “Also, increase height to 7 feet 7 inches, and increase bone thickness to accommodate increased muscle size.” Within a few seconds, the young freshman grew from a skinny 19-year-old geek into a young muscle giant. Rob then walked around his newly transformed friend to decide what to change next. “Load hair template 'TJ Racer 2',” he directed. Instantly the youth's hair grew and swelled into the biggest glam metal hairstyle Rob had ever seen. “Load template 'Extreme Glam Metal Makeup 2', he now directed. “Cologne: 'Preferred Stock' by Coty. Also, load template 'Giant Gonads 3'. Increase lip thickness 100%.” Moments later, Rob's schoolmate was transformed into one of the hottest-looking glam rockers Rob had ever seen. Rob felt, however, that a few refine-ments were still needed. “Skin tone: Increase tan 200%. Load wardrobe template 'Extreme Glam Metal Leather 2'. Increase IQ level 100%. Primary occupation: College student, advanced placement, majoring in music. Secondary occupation: glam metal rock musician, skill level 'Virtuoso 2'. Finances: Multi-billionaire. Adjust speech, mannerisms, and thought processes to match.” Rob paused for a few momentrs as the numerous changes he had just ordered were implemented. In a matter of seconds, the young giant was transformed into one of the most richly-clad young glam metal studs he had ever seen. There were a few finishing touches that he still needed to make, though, he de-cided, before he unleashed his newest creation. “Sexual orientation: Straight. Sexual activity: Virgin until marriage. Selecting other options. Alcohol use: none until age 21. Drug use: none. Tobacco use: none. Primary vehicle: Indian Chieftain motorcycle, heavily customized with studs, engine twin turbocharged. Secondary vehicle: Cadillac CTX, white flip-flop pearlescent paint, all available options, engine supercharged. Increase speed of reflexes 200%. Auto-fill subject's memory based on selections and save all changes. Load object and resume.” Only a few seconds later, the now-transformed glam-rocker turned on his heel, saw the pumpkin coming towards him, then, to Rob's astonishment, grabbed it out of the air and sent it flying right back in the direction of the young hooligans who had flung it toward him to begin with. The teens froze in terror as the giant pumpkin zoomed within an inch of the gang leader's head, then exploded into dozens of fragments as it struck a large tree nearby. As might be expected, the gang members turned and prepared to run. Before any of them could take a single step, however, the young muscle giant bellowed, “STAY WHERE YOU ARE—EVERY ONE OF YOU! IF I HAVE TO COME AFTER EVEN ONE OF YOU, I'LL RUN RIGHT OVER ALL OF YOUR HEADS!!” Trembling in every limb, the teens did as they were told. Rob's schoolmate stalked over to them and fixed them with a burning gaze of anger and contempt. “JUST WHAT IN THE NAME OF SANITY DO YOU PUNKS THINK YOU'RE DOING? YOU COULD HAVE KILLED SOMEBODY THAT WAY! IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL FUN? HUH??” By now, the teen gang members were actually down on their knees begging for mercy, crying hysteri-cally. “Please don't hurt us!” the gang leader begged. “Yeah, Mister, we're sorry!” Rob and his house-mate, whose name was David, were conviinced that the boys meant what they said. Not wanting to be too hard on them, but still feeling they needed to be taught a lesson, David sharply commanded them to stand up. The boys promptly did so. “If you're truly sorry, you're gonna have to prove it,” he replied. “And in this case, the way I'm going to require you to prove it is for all of you to clean up this mess—NOW!!” To the two collegians' enormous satisfaction, the young gang members promptly did just that. While they were at work, Rob pulled out his cell phone and called the University's Buildings and Grounds office and arranged to have a truck sent over to collect the pumpkin fragments for proper disposal. In less than an hour, the job was completed. Both Rob and David nodded to indicate their approval. The boys then went the proverbial extra mile by insisting on assisting the groundsmen in sho-veling the collected fragments into the back of the truck. As the truck pulled away, David turned toward the teens with a smile. “You did a good job, guys,” he said, in a warm tone of praise that made their faces all flush with pleasure. To their utter disbelief, he then insisted on giving each of them a crisp $100 bill in payment for their efforts. “Stay out of trouble,” he promised, “ and I'll see what I can do to get each of you a really good-paying job. Now be off with all of you!” The now-jubilant teens thanked their new benefactor profusely, complimented him on the outfit he was wearing, and then departed. Rob and David exchanged a joyful high-five. What could have been an ugly and even murderous incident had instead been turned into a triumph. For his part, Rob had never felt such supreme satisfaction that the use of his unique gift had turned out so well. Then, to Rob's surprise, David asked him what his plans were for the rest of the day. Since that day was a Sunday, and there were therefore no classes, Rob replied, “I was planning to go to Hell with Dante, but I can wait on that, at least for a while. Did you have something in mind?” “Yes, as a matter of fact,” David answered, a wicked grin lighting up his gorgeous features in a manner that caused Rob to shiver with delight. “I'm planning on shopping for some new outfits, including leathers and boots. Would you care to come with me?” A wicked grin now came over Rob's face as he instantly accepted. His schoolmate then went back inside just long enough to get a helmet for Rob to wear, then put on his own and led Rob to the garage where his fabulously-decked-out motorcycle was parked. The two students then mounted David's superbike and took off for what turned out to be the hottest motorcycle shop in town. David explained that this was the shop that had done such a fabulous job with his first bike, and that he now wanted a second, even more extravagant machine, and an even more lavish set of leathers and boots to go with it. “By the way,” the young billionaire asked, as they arrived at their destination, “Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?” Regretfully, Rob shook his head. “Well, then, we're gonna change that,” his dorm-mate shot back firmly, yet with a grin that was so lustful and wicked it was tantamount to a leer. “In fact,” David went on, “by the time I'm through with you, you're gonna be every bit as much of a glam-metal rocker as I am—in fact, I insist on it!! I insist on buying you a custom bike, too—every bit as lavish as the one I'm gonna get!” Rob was aghast. In all the years he had used his special gift, he had made it a point never to use it in any way that might even suggest he was doing so for personal gain. He also knew that he could not use his power on himself—and he had yet to find anyone, anywhere, who also had that same gift. He tried his best to reason, even to argue with his friend—but in the end, David disarmed his arguments. He pointed out that Rob had taken David under his wing virtually from the moment he had first set foot on the campus more than a year before. “You've helped me again and again during all this time,” he concluded. “Please, Rob, give me a chance to help you in return.” Even through the visor of his helmet, Rob could see that there were actually tears in David's eyes. It was the sight of those tears that finally prompted Rob to break down and nod his head in agreement. He could never stand to see anyone he cared about cry. The sight of tears in the eyes of one of those he had helped made his feelings even stronger. When Rob nodded his consent, David instantly lifted him up like a feather and hugged him hard. “Thank you, Rob, thank you!” he choked out. “You have no idea how much this means to me!” Stunned and overwhelmed, too moved to speak in return, Rob simply returned his friend's embrace as best he could. Then, after they had both wiped their eyes, they walked into the shop to begin Rob's new life alongside his now best friend as a glam-metal biker. Rob had no idea as to why his life was taking such an unexpected turn, but something inside of him told him not to question it—that this was at least a partial reward for his unselfish use of his gift, and that, as long as he continued to use that gift responsibly, even greater rewards were yet to come.
  11. Part One "Yeah, come on, coach, you've got this in the bag!" James was not the only one cheering at the small, but powerfully built men on stage in the over 60's class of his local bodybuilding contest, but he was certainly the loudest, and with good reason. His coach, Larry, was almost certain to win his fifth regional title in as many years and as he finished off his routine with a most muscular that defied his size, he smiled, bowed to the audience and strode off back stage where his student picked him up and grunted "You may only be ten stone, but this is how much I want to congratulate you!" As he placed Larry on the ground a few seconds later, Larry just smiled and said "Remember, this time last year you couldn't even pick me up, but I thank you. It's nice to get some positive feedback from a student" and with that they went off to prepare Larry for the presentation. Larry and James really couldn't have been more different if they tried. Larry was 69 years old, had been training since his 14th birthday and although only standing 5ft 2 tall and weighing 138lbs, his 38½ inch chest, 33½ inch waist, 13 inch biceps, 21 inch quads and 14½ inch calves looked hewn from granite. James, on the other hand, was not only ten inches taller, but worlds apart. He weighed 220lbs, but with a 46 inch chest, 45 in waist, 13 inch biceps, 23 inch quads and 14½ inch calves, it was obvious that he had a long way to go to match his coach, but that did not dampen his enthusiasm for his coach and what he lacked in muscle, he more than made up for in cleverness. Indeed, it was his idea to create a social media account for his coach's bodybuilding exploits, accounts which were regularly shared by the stars of bodybuilding although James made quite sure that everyone realised that Larry's muscle development was following the "PHS method" of training which Larry explained as the "Porthos, Hercules and Samson" method of training until he couldn't do anymore and without any drugs whatsoever. That evening as the two drove home, James nursing the trophy like a baby, he looked at it and said "Larry, did you really mean what you said last year when I joined your gym. That in the space of three years I could win one of these myself!" Larry chuckled "Of course I did, I mean look at your progress. Your bench, squat and deadlift have increased exponentially from nothing to 104lbs, 94lbs and 84lbs respectively, you can pick me up for at least thirty seconds when you couldn't managed it before, and might I note that you've become more confident as well" and with that smiled at him. "Yes" smiled James, "my naked posing sessions after we train" and with that added, "I can't help myself, I say. After I train I feel, well, like, like the biggest and strongest man in the world, I want to rip off my posing suit and flex, flex, flex" "Tell you what then" smiled Larry, "special treat this evening. Before I tuck into my post contest ice cream, we'll pose down together, naked, and you can show me what poses I should do for my next guest posing session next weekend, Deal?" "Deal!" nodded James, frantically.
  12. Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend Chapter 20 Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 February 10th, 2022 2050 Hours Alvarez, already shirtless and oiling himself up, answered the knock on his door. Naturally, it was Lang. “Right on time. Come on in,” he said. Lang came in, babbling with his usual over-the-top excitement that preceded every Pose and Approve session. “So what do you think the brass thought?” he asked eagerly as he pulled off his t-shirt. Alvarez tossed a bottle of heated mineral oil to his buddy, who uncapped it and began to smear oil onto his muscles as well. “Did you see that old Admiral Whatsisname? Jesus, he looked awesomely p i s s e d o f f, man! And what about all those other dudes? Didja hear them? Didja hear them groaning?? Dude! D’ya think they all creamed their pants?” “Of course they did. They always do. It’s the guaranteed effect.” Alvarez sighed, oiling his triceps, shaking his head. "It's why we're here, man. It's the only reason." Lang laughed excitedly, working the oil into his muscles. “Man, those dudes ain’t never seen muscle like ours before, right? Right?” He flexed powerful biceps and nodded into one of the room’s full-length mirrors with a frowning sneer. “Asshole dudes never seen guns like these, right? pow! bam!!” “Oh, shut the fuck up,” muttered Alvarez. Lang stared. He was suddenly quiet. Alvarez continued to oil himself up. He looked worried. “What’d I say, dude?” Lang asked plaintively, his arms outstretched. Alvarez walked over to him and stood nose to nose before him, the bulges in Alvarez’s jeans and Lang’s posers just touching. He reached around Lang to the back of his head and, guiding his face close, planted a deep kiss onto his perfect lips. He worked his tongue into Lang’s mouth, who responded deeply. Then he pulled back and gazed long and hard into Lang’s deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry. Forget them,” he said reassuringly. “Let’s pose.” “Yeah! Pose and approve!” shouted Lang, and then giggled apologetically, clamping his hand over his mouth in response to Alvarez’s stern look. “Shut up. We don’t want everyone in here.” “Sorry, dude.” “Tonight is just us.” “Sorry, dude! Let’s rock!” Both turned and looked at their reflection in Alvarez’s three-paneled mirror. Excepting Alvarez’s mustache, the two powerful musclemen were almost exact duplicates of one another: tall, dark, and handsome, with deep brown eyes, taut cheekbones and shiny black hair. Their ripped, 285-pound physiques were perfect symphonies of bulging muscle. Lang nodded and forgot all about the brass. He did a crab crunch into the mirror. “Freakkkkyyy…” he muttered. “Swole. So swole.” His veins exploded with throbbing power. Alvarez was undoing his belt, unzipping his zipper, working his tight jeans gradually down his ripped quads. “Pose and approve time, man,” he said to Lang. “Pose and approve.” He picked up a remote and lowered the room’s lights, bringing up the glare of the overhead spotlight focused on the 15' posing dais in front of the mirrors. “Yeah, man, let’s get to it!” Lang ripped off his clothes and stepped up onto the dais as Alvarez kicked away his jeans. Both men were now only barely covered with skimpy royal blue competition posing trunks with hundreds of bright spangles sewn onto the extra-large pouches. The spangles caught the light and glistened like small sapphires. Alvarez stood before him. “You go first.” For an instant, Lang was honored to be going first, as the unspoken law between them during their nightly mutual muscle worship sessions was that Alvarez always got to pose before he did. Tonight was apparently different; even so, Lang was instantly caught up in the sheer joy of his own reflection of muscular near-perfection, and he forgot it right away. The muscleman stood quietly, his heavy arms around his back, his hands clasped. He waited. His ripped abs seemed to extend forever, cobbled fatless bricks laced with thick veins. His cock poled out in his posers. But still he waited. Alvarez was always in charge of Pose and Approve. “Go.” “I’m fucking ….. awesummmmm…..” Lang moaned, loving himself. He slowly curled his huge body into a side biceps pose and turned his head to cockily grin at his reflection. Then he glanced uncertainly at Alvarez in the mirror. “Talk to me,” he demanded, but Alvarez knew he was really begging. “Tell me I’m huge.” Alvarez was not about to let him down. “Yeah, you’re huge, man,” whispered Alvarez with warm smoothness, and he shifted his weight, smoothing the small pools of oil onto his delts. “Those guns of yours look to be about 23 inches. Check out your fist. Motherfucking huge. You could seriously do some serious bare knuckle damage with a fist like that.” His muscles were now gleaming with oil. Lang laughed joyfully. “I have, man! I’ve cleared a few barrooms in my day!” “Punching out ba-a-a-d dudes with those fists?” “Yeah, punching out the bad dudes! Check out these veins, man! They’re like super highways, man! Pumping, buddy. Pumpin’ it up for ya, man.” Lang pumped and flexed. Alvarez capped the bottle, set it down, and turned back, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, yeah, man. That’s good. Nice. Big old motherfucking biceps. Flex those guns for me, man.” “I’m flexing these guns for ya, bro. BOOM. Big muscle in the house,” he cried out joyfully. “Yeah, I see you, man. Nice. Nice big muscles. Biggest muscleman on earth, man.” “’Cept for you, bro. You’re bigger,” said Lang. Alvarez stepped onto the dais under the spotlight, and standing between Lang and the mirror, smoothed hot oil onto Lang’s glistening pecs, stroking his muscles appreciatively. They stood nose-to-nose, not six inches apart. Lang flexed powerful biceps. “Don’t know about that.” Alvarez smoothly applied oil to the granite softballs of Lang’s peaks. Lang stared at himself, transfixed. In his posing trunks his heavy cock was already pointing straight ahead. Alvarez clapped Lang’s huge biceps in his palms. “Like fucking rocks.” “Yeah, man, like fucking boulders, I know. Feel ‘em, man. Feel my muscles.” His eyes took in the mirror reflection of Alvarez’s awesome glutes. “I’m there, man, doing your muscles for you, man.” Alvarez licked his pecs, kissed each bulging biceps, and lightly bit Lang’s nipples. Then he knelt, leaned in and whispered again, his face now level to Lang’s bulging crotch. His breath softly exploded onto Lang’s stiffening cockshaft appearing as his posing trunks poled heavily outward. “You’re big, man. Real big.” “I’m big, hunh?” asked Lang. Now that Alvarez was on his knees and not blocking his upper body reflection, he was gazing at himself with hypnotic eagerness. “Motherfucking huge muscleman, dude.” Lang could feel Alvarez’s breath lightly exploding onto his junk. Still, he never looked away from his own reflection. “So reward me, man. Reward me for my muscles. Reward me for this pose.” “You got it, man. Here comes your reward.” “Thanks, bro,” purred Lang, gazing now in rapture at the pointing peaks of his biceps, his tongue slightly hanging out. His buddy approved. He was in heaven. He’d taken first place in the show running in his head. He and his buddy. “Just keep posing, man.” Alvarez gently opened his mouth and tenderly began to suck Lang’s big cock through his posing trunks. Lang glided into his next pose, a side-chest. And then a front lat spread. His pelvis pushed forward. His poser straining with cock. The pose and approve ritual always began with each man wearing his posing trunks for as long as he could manage to keep them on. They mentally pictured themselves on a competition stage, posing for overwhelmed judges and an audience of thousands of screaming fans, while under the lights, they were really posing only for each other, taking turns kneeling and occasionally bending and sucking each other’s erect cocks through their trunks. They fantasized no one else would be allowed to touch them. They’d turn and punch the lights out of anyone who dared. But the reality was that anyone who wanted to suck their cocks could do so. With just a little begging. After all, big musclemen deserve to get their cocks sucked. Now Alvarez was licking the bobbing cockhead through the straining cloth, running his tongue up and down Lang’s piss slit. Then he deep-throated him, holding the giant cock tenderly in his warm mouth. He held it for 30 seconds. Above him, Lang gulped and continued to pose. Then Alvarez slowly slid his lips off the big dick. The bulging fabric of the bursting poser was wet with saliva. He looked up and winked at the grateful Lang. “Big musclemen like you work hard,” he said with a quiet smile. “You pump those awesome muscles into unbelievable size. When you flex those muscles, it’s mind-blowing. You deserve a reward for all that hard work. You deserve to get your big cock sucked.” “Thanks, man.” “Don’t mention it, bro.” Alvarez ran his hands smoothly up and down Lang’s obliques, smacking his firm sides. He nodded, then looked up. “You got a lat spread you want to show me, man?” He licked his buddy’s abs and waited. “Comin’ up, “Lang breathed, and with a small explosion of breath, he grabbed the straps of his posers, pulled them taut, planted his fists into his obliques, and pumped his rocky pecs into their full mass. He spread his legs wide, the pouch of his posing trunks bulging forward with his fully erect 10-inch penis. Alvarez, still licking the washboard abs, stroked the cock with his thick fingers, glanced up and nodded. “Good lat spread. Great pecs. Lemme see you bounce ‘em. Show me, now.” “Okay.” Lang began to bounce his flexing pecs back and forth in dance of perfect machine gun muscle rhythm. “Yeah, man. Doin’ some serious pec dancing for you now. Boom. Boom. Boom. Watch ‘em, now. Watch these pecs of mine do their thing.” “Do that pec dance thing for me, baby,” said Alvarez. He watched Lang’s bouncing pecs for a full minute. Then he leaned in and licked the cockhead, again through the posers. “I approve. Here’s your reward.” Alvarez once again opened his mouth wide, and with a quick fleck of his tongue against his lips, took the bulging pouch of Lang’s posers full down his throat. Lang, his pecs still dancing, began to slowly pump his hips, fucking face. Bursts of warm precum began to stain the poser fabric, blooming into a widening pool of moisture. Alvarez could see the giant slit of Lang’s big penis head, and licked respectfully. After a minute, he released another small explosion of breath to signify to the bodybuilder kneeling before him that he was going to change his pose again. “Front double biceps,” he announced, and swung his arms up into mighty peaks. Alvarez pulled back slightly, licked the cockhead again, and rocked back on his heels. In his own posing trunks his cock was now full 11 inches erect and poling above the waistband, slap tight against his abs. “Lookin’ good. Now hold that for two minutes. No, three. Hold that pose solid without moving for three minutes. Then you’ll get your reward.” It was agony. Lang loved it. He fiercely held the mountainous peaks of his 23-inch biceps for three full minutes. Sweat began pouring down his face. “Flexing for ya, man!” He bared his lips and gritted his teeth into a grimace. His veins exploded down his neck. The veins in his forearms were like cables of steel wire. He raised one biceps, then the other, again dancing them back and forth. The baseball peaks of his guns gleamed in the spotlight. On his knees before him, Alvarez gazed up worshipfully, pumping his own cock right out of his posing trunks, but not touching Lang. “It’s been more than three minutes,” Lang finally said through his gritted teeth. “So reward me, man! Suck my cock, man!” “Think you deserve a reward?” Alvarez teased, now stroking Lang’s cock tenderly with his tongue. “For these guns? You bet, baby. Take that big cock of mine down your throat now!” “You got it, man.” Alvarez fell forward onto his knees again, his mouth wide open, and landed bulls-eye onto the giant pole bursting in Lang’s posing trunks, taking it all into his mouth. For three minutes, he sucked cock, up and down, licking, spitting, back and forth, deep sucking. Lang gazed down at him, relaxed his biceps a few seconds, and then resumed the pose. He was rock hard. “Dig these guns, man, and suck my cock. Suck your approval. Pose and approve me. Pose and approve.” “Yeah, you like it when I suck your cock while you’re posing?” breathed Alvarez. He licked the mammoth bulge in Lang’s posing trunks. “I can see you onstage, man. Flexing for all those asshole judges. Blowing them all away. Never seen biceps as big as yours. Never seen a cock as big as yours. Poling out in your posing trunks. Big old heavy bulge. Big cocks need to get sucked.” “Yeah? Well, man, I like it when you suck my cock. I like it when you suck my cock while I’m posing for those assholes.” Greedily, Alvarez licked the cloth covering Lang’s heavy testicles. “Lickin’ your balls now, man, licking your balls.” “Put ‘em in your mouth, man. Put my balls in your mouth.” Still flexing, he looked down and eyed Alvarez’s cock hungrily. Alvarez was pumping it now with both hands. It looked like a firehose. Suddenly Lang wanted to suck it. But he didn’t want Alvarez to stop. He dropped to his knees. Alvarez lowered with him, knowing what he wanted. As he watched, Lang flexed his right biceps one more time; Alvarez nodded approval; then Lang leaned in to Alvarez’s cock. He pulled the posing trunks over the cockhead onto Alvarez’s balls, and brought it into his mouth. Alvarez kept sucking. Together the two bodybuilders slowly lowered their huge bodies onto the posing dais under the spotlight and began to service each other with a full-body 69 grapple. Their arm muscles rippled against each other as each man gripped the other’s hard glutes, thick fingers gripping slabs of butt muscle. Each man ecstatically sucked his muscle buddy’s gigantic rod, their balls both still barely covered by their straining posing trunks. After 18 minutes of violent 69 sucking, their posing trunks finally tore from the strain. Rrr-i-i-i-i-pp! Their bullish balls burst free in unison, and each man eagerly licked the other’s heavy testicles passionately. “Next time, you pose first,” whispered Lang, and Alvarez looked over at him, grinned, and flexed a biceps. Lang nodded seriously. “I approve,” he said, “now here’s your reward,” and he bent in, sucking cock. The slurping, moaning, sucking sounds echoed down the corridor. In his room, Private Chris Hension, lying naked in bed, covered with sweat, his pole rising stiffly towards the ceiling, finally couldn’t take it any more. He jumped out of bed, grabbed a robe and a pair of purple spangly posers, stepped into them, fitting his huge member into the pouch with some difficulty, and tore out of his room. He ran down the hallway, his half-tumescent, half-sheathed cock waggling in the breeze, and stopped at Alvarez’s door. He waited an instant – and was about to knock – but, what the hell. He banged on the door, threw it open, and walked in. He knew it would be unlocked. Somehow instinctively he knew they were waiting for him. And so they were. The two musclemen lay on the dais, sucking each other’s cocks, their mammoth physiques coated with a glistening layer of sweat. Without removing dick from mouth, each man slowed for a moment and gazed up at Hension questioningly. “Were we making too much noise?” asked Alvarez, his speech garbled by Lang’s cock. “Yeah. I’d say,” said Hension. He threw his robe to the floor and stood before them in his favorite posing strap, his own erection poling straight ahead. He slammed the door behind him and stepped forward, whipping his arms up into a front double biceps. “Check me out,” he commanded, but there was a note of hopefulness in his voice. Of desperation, Alvarez quietly noted to himself. Good, good, all to the good. “Damn. He’s a pretty little muscleboy, ain’t he?” said Alvarez, momentarily releasing Lang’s cock. “He sure is,” said Lang, doing the same. “You see me every day, guys. I ain’t so little,” said Hension, flexing. “Maybe we’ve never noticed you before.” “Fuck you both.” “Oh, sorry. Maybe you should leave?” “NO! I wanna play too!” Hension flexed feverishly. “Okay. We’ll think about it.” Alvarez licked Lang’s dick a few times and lolled his head back towards Hension. Lang, however, appeared to take no more interest, turning his full attention to sucking his buddy’s dick. He bent in and deep-throated Alvarez’s stiff penis a few times, gagging slightly, and then resumed his gentle, steady sucking and licking. “You sure are pretty. Big biceps. Big. Good quads. Turn around.” Hension turned around, did a rear lat spread, pointing his shapely round glutes to the ceiling. “Nice. Awesome hams. Lang, you see those hams?” …..Suck suck suck suck suck…. “No? Hmmm. Guess he’s busy. Come on over here and flex for us while we suck some cock.” And Alvarez turned back to Lang’s quivering member, appearing indifferent. “I’ll show you guys,” muttered Hension, stepping onto the dais. He was ready. He’d been waiting a long time for this. And he’d been kidded, slapped, punched, and pushed around too long to not grab the moment. His moment. “I’m gonna flex now, and you’re gonna watch me!” he shouted. From the floor of the dais, Alvarez and Lang turned and looked up at him. There was a pause. “So go ahead,” said Alvarez. “Let’s see what you got.” He paused. “Boy,” he added.
  13. (Note, like a lot of my stories, the people in this are based on real people, at least in the beginning. I adjusting names and certain details to make the story more interesting, but I need to give credit where it is due. Let me know what you all think) Stewart and Henry were a married couple. Fortunately for me, their relationship was open, and they enjoyed inviting other guys to play with them. I was only an Italian-American college grad 20 something, kinda lanky, curly-haired and gangly, but 6'2" tall. While I'd been fascinated by twinks in high school and athletes in college, something about the settled, strong, somewhat chubby bodies and easy demeanor of Stewart and Henry drew me. Stewart was Irish-Scottish-American, and worked in some sort of number crunching company. He had bright, twinkling hazel eyes and buzzed hair and a round baby face with a boyish grin and stubble on his lips and chin. He was only about 5'7" tall, but he had a 7 inch long, thin dick that loved attention. His body was also nicely hairy all over, but his fair skin was marred by eczema, and though he said it was about the best it had ever been, he really loved it when I massaged him with the lotion to sooth his discomfort. I admit I was initially surprised, but once he explained the condition and I saw how much he loved being touched I thought of him as a lovable teddy bear, and several times I drove over to their townhouse just to massage him while he watched TV. Stewart's hairy body was fun to touch and play with, and he was very sensual. After a lifetime of being unable to touch anyone for fear of being seen as too gay, I loved caressing him. Stewart was also the more openly horny and the one who was more talkative, and it was he who initially invited me over when we were chatting on Adam4Adam. He liked trashy tv shows and dramas, and he also liked me. Henry was Cambodian-American, and worked as a manager for a mental health company. He had taken his husband's last name, and I was a bit in awe of him. He stood a bit taller than his husband at 5'11" and his body, though soft and smooth, was somewhat stronger from helping the orderlies care for patients. His dark brown eyes seemed to look deep, and he didn't talk much, but he would chat with me on facebook when his busy schedule allowed, and he was always polite and gentle. His skin was a rich bronze, and mostly smooth, except around his loins. His hair was longer than his husband, but only enough to flop neatly on his head, though he sometimes buzzed the sides and back. His dick was thicker than Stewart's, and its shape was sexier, too. Where Stewart got off quickly, Henry liked to take his time with me, both of us cuddling and caressing each other, stroking and sucking and and holding each other as we came, and then cuddling and making out afterwards. Sometimes, while Stewart would get off early and go clean up, Henry and I would spend longer and longer periods in bed, making out and exploring each other's bodies. I admit, if I found Stewart cute and playful and fun to take care of, I yearned for time spent with Henry. He was usually busy, though, and so I became more a friend to Stewart than a friend with benefits to both of them. One evening, though, Henry was working on something while Stewart and I reclined on the couch with his lotion, and while burly Cambodian was usually silent when he had a project, tonight he seemed especially focused on his laptop and some odd device, which looked like a combination of a tablet and a stereo and a whisk. "What's going on," I asked in a whisper to Stewart, who shrugged, and murmured back, "Some sort of mental health psychosomatic reinforcement subliminal message projector thing... there've been a few rowdy patients at Henry's job lately, and he's been trying to invent something to help them make breakthroughs, lower addiction symptoms, etc... doesn't seem to be working too well, if his temper is any indication. Poor guy has been beating himself up over trying to make it work, but I think his coworkers have written it off as a lost cause already. But the good news is he's made some progress on other stuff. He found a new experimental skin cream for me... it's supposed to work wonders... want to try it out?" I smiled. Stewart is cute when he wants something, though his condition can't be comfortable. "Sure thing... but let me wash my hands first... maybe make your husband take a break and start you on it," I reply as I get up, go to the restroom, and, out of habit, close and lock the door. It's not that I'd mind if either of them barged in on me if I was doing things far more private than washing hands, but it's just one of my quirks. Through the door, I heard the following: "Henry, hon, could you at least get me started before Mikey gets back?" "Ugh... I'll need to wash my hands afterwards if I'm going to be working on this piece of junk, but yeah, I could use a break, babe. I swear it is picking up kinky porn channels or something instead of projecting anything. If I could just find the right medium, I'm sure it'd work. Even now it is just loading." "You'll get it right eventually, hon." "Thanks babe. Oof... this jar is sealed tight." "C'mon, big guy, you're really strong... you can open it." "Grrr... I'll show you strong, sexy... finally!" I heard Stewart's mild, teasing applause, then, a moment later, "Ooo... thanks... that feels good, hon." "Yeah, it is nice and smooth... kinda tingly, though, mayb-" Henry was interrupted by a sudden electronic hum, which continued for several minutes. I was a little unnerved by their sudden silence, turned the sink off, and called out, "Guys, you ok?" In unison, both Stewart and Henry nearly moaned, "We ok," their voices sounding strangely flat over the continuing mechanical buzz. I finished drying my hands, opened the door and stood there in shock. Stewart and Henry were frozen in place, the new skin cream smeared over Henry's hands and Stewart's belly. But the skin cream was glowing with a strange golden light, and both men's expressions were blank. It was like they were awaiting something. At the same time, the device Henry had been working on was vibrating, the whisk-part shaking as electric arcs danced between the metal frame. I went over to examine the screen and saw the following message: Medium for personality and physiology alteration found. Connection made... suggestion waves interfacing with subject(s) physiology. Subject 2 has dermal errors... Medium can make repairs with heightened stimulation. Authorize? Y/N? I thought for a moment. Should I do this? Would it really help Stewart's skin? What if it made things worse? How long would this effect last? I took a deep breath, and typed "Y" The device flashed, and the gel flowed over Stewart, coating him entirely. I rushed over to try and pull it off his face, but in a moment, it seemed to have sunk into his skin, save for a few globs in the jar and on Henry's hands. But Stewart started to moan and lean back out of his husband's touch, running his hands over his body and writhing in what looked like pleasure on the couch. "Yeah... oh baby, yeah, yeah, I've never felt this good... fuck yeah!" he cried out. He opened his eyes and locked them with mine. "Mikey, fuck me, please fuck me, I need to get fucked! Fffffuck!" he growled out and yanked off his shirt, exposing his shoulders. I thought for a brief moment that he had snapped out of his earlier trance, but his eyes, though heavy lidded and sex-driven, were still unfocused. I noticed, though, that his skin seemed slightly more clear than before. I made up my mind. "Ok Stewart, I'll fuck you... pants off," I command, pulling off my clothes as I spoke. Something about Stewart seemed stronger, more alluring. No more the cute, sympathetic pup, now, physically tearing his pants and briefs off his legs and revealing a surprising bulge, long and slim and hardening. His neck and arms and chest all seemed thicker, more fire plug powerful, but he also seemed an inch taller. "Fuck yeah, Mikey! Only it's Stu, fuck, not Stewart. Stewart's a dweeb's name, and I'm... fuck... I'm all man." He really was changing before my eyes. His neck was thicker, and his biceps were flexing as he growled and cursed. I was surprised to see a tribal tattoo forming on his arms and shoulders, and his hair seemed to be reshaping into a military high and tight. His facial stubble was thickening. As I positioned myself, I noticed that Henry was still frozen in place, his eyes locked on the empty air where Stewart... Stu... had been when they first froze. But his pants are noticeably bulging, as if he can sense what is going on and can't help but be aroused. I took a deep breath, and slid into... Stu's hole. He felt tight, and he was flexing, his bulky body showing hard muscle underneath a daddylike meat. His cock flopped onto his gut, which was starting to show roid-abs, and he moaned loud and long, his voice deeper as his chest and neck muscles started to swell. His sweat smelled muskier, deeper somehow. I was finding myself lost in his body, seeing how responsive he was to each thrust of my dick. Then I noticed that he was actually getting a bit taller with each thrust. Where Stewart's rash had been, Stu only had flushed skin from the lust he was experiencing. His eyes were rolling back in his head, and nothing but profanity spilled from his now bearded lips as a newborn daddy hunk who lay on the couch beneath me. Eventually, I heard the device beep, and it seemed to trigger Stu's responses. He roared out, "Oh fuck... oh goddamn fucking FUCCCCKKKKKK!" Cum splattered from his dick and across his bulky, hairy chest muscles, and he seemed to pass out in a sexually satisfied stupor. I pulled out, but he didn't seem to notice, just began to snore. I noticed that his cum was soaking into his skin just like the lotion had, though. I went over to the device to see what it had to say about the situation, and saw the following message displayed: Medium for Personality and Physical Alteration suitable. Subject 2 responded extremely well. Save (rename) - Subject 2: __________ I began to type "Stu" into the blank, but autocorrect finished for me and saved him as "Stud." Searching databases... "Stud" qualities applied. Details downloaded from 34,768 pornographic films (see list). Increasing sex drive. Lowering inhibitions. Seeking open relationships or opportunities to spread genetic material. Intelligence shifting from academic to physical and socially and sexually driven. Subject 2 saved as "Stud." "Oh geez... I hope that doesn't make things worse." I mumble to myself, before the device beeped again. I looked to the screen and saw a new message. Medium for personality and physical alteration insufficient. Please apply greater quantities of the medium to Subject 1's epidermis. Failure to do so promptly could result in brain damage from extended halted mental operations. I looked at Henry, and saw that drool was starting to spill from his lips. "Oh geez oh geez oh geez," I yelped as I grabbed some dishwashing gloves from the sink to avoid getting any of the stuff on me, and yanked open Henry's button down shirt to expose as much of his golden skin as possible. I took the jar from his hand and began slathering the lotion onto his body, watching as it glowed brilliantly under the stimulation of the device's signals. When I'd practically emptied the container, I dropped, it, pulled off the gloves so they landed on Henry's bare feet, and returned to the device, where I was relieved to see a new message waiting for me. Medium for personality and physical alteration found. Connection made... suggestion waves interfacing with subject(s) physiology. Subject 1 experienced mild brain damage. Repairs must be made to allow continued functioning. Authorize? Y/N? Without hesitation I pressed Y. I wanted Henry safe and whole. The device flashed again, and the gel coated all of Henry's body, remaining for longer than it had on Stewart before sinking into the bronzed Cambodian skin. Henry showed signs of life, animating and moaning low and loud. Unlike his husband, he didn't say any words... in fact, it seemed like he was acting far more primal and animalistic than Stewart had. He began to growl, deep in his throat and belly, and flex his muscles... which were beginning to pump and swell, making his remaining clothes look that much tighter. Veins seemed to swell in his neck and torso, as if pumping with the gel. His gut seemed to be pushing towards me, but "roid gut" abs were forming on its expanse as well. Henry's shoulders seemed to be getting broader, and his breathing was louder as the changes swept through his body (and presumably his mind). His neck was getting thicker, more bull-like, and I heard his spine crack as he began to get taller. Soon, he was approaching my height! Henry's clothes seemed smaller and smaller, but he took a step towards me, reaching out with hands that spasmed as a response to his arm muscles starting to grow. I felt those twitching, throbbing hands grab me... and push me aside! Instead of doing anything with me, like Stewart... or Stu, or Stud, I suppose... had, Henry went straight for his husband's passed out form on the couch. He bent his knees and flexed with a grunt, and began to flex more seriously. Shockingly, his muscles seemed to bulge and pump and swell even more! In a moment, his shirt had torn off his broad, veiny shoulders, revealing a body that had grown into the muscle, massive gut bulging under pillow-sized pecs capped with erect nipples. As his body continued to flex and expand, soon his pants too started to tear off... and perhaps in preparation for my visit, he hadn't been wearing underwear underneath. His cock, now a solid, massive monster, thick and vein-covered, flew up and smacked his belly as the tattered remnants of his old life fell to the floor. Even his socks ripped off his now bigger bare feet. The newly naked beast of a man wasted no time, leaning forward to bury his face and tongue between the cheeks of his husband's new hairy, unblemished muscle butt. I could hear loud slurping sounds as Henry... or the man who'd been Henry... began to rim Stu's stud ass with long strokes of his tongue. Stu began to moan and wake up. With a string of dialogue that I was starting to recognize from certain porn movies, Stu left no doubt about that. "Oh fuck, hon, you're so big! Look at those muscles... yeah, eat out that tight ass. Our little friend didn't fill me near enough. I need your big meat. Give it to me, hon... give me that. Huge. Fucking. Dick!" Henry complied. It was really hot to watch his body move, his head rising from his partner's hole, his hard dick, now almost as thick and long as my forearm, dripping precum as he lined it up, then placed his big hands on his husband's hairy shoulders and thrust inside the smaller man. The couch, a well-weighted thing that had withstood a lot, actually moved with the force, and Stu's language turned, if possible, even more profane. There was no effort to make sense, just variations on the theme of fucking in between gasps of breath with each thrust Henry made. Until Stu did something that changed things... he renamed Henry: "C'mon, Hank, stop holding back and pound me! FUCK!" Henry... or, I suppose, Hank, now... froze, despite Stu's extremely vocal complaints. "H-hank..." he moaned, his voice rough. "I-I'm H-Hank..." "Yeah, you are, HUNK, now fucking fucking FUCK ME!" yelled Stu. He probably shouldn't have said that. Henry's face seemed conflicted. "Hank... Hunk... Hank... Hunk... Hank... Hunk." As Stu continued to scream profanities, I moved forward, stood on tiptoe (for Henry had inched taller over the last minute or so), and murmured in his ear. "Some people call you Henry or Hank... or even Hunk." Henry's huge, muscular body stilled at my words. "I call you beautiful and powerful and genius and brilliant and sexy and the greatest man I know." Henry's body was shaking as his mind tried to accomodate all the changes it was undergoing at the words I spoke. "You're... Stu's... husband. A hard worker. Really gentle and strong and understanding at the same time. I wish I could call you mine." The world seemed to stop. Was I really going to do this? If I said the right thing, I could claim this mountain of a man for myself, maybe more deeply than anyone else ever would. But... if he didn't choose me, then his only interest in me would be flat and mechanical, right? It wouldn't be real. Henry deserved better than that. Hank deserved better than that. I deserved better than that. I thought for a minute to choose my words carefully, my mind made up, as I blocked out Stu's grumbles, I took a deep breath. "... but you're your own man." He seemed to shudder and sigh, and a smile moved across his lips as he nodded, seeming more at peace. Then, he abruptly returned to fucking his husband like it was the only thing that mattered. Henry... Hank... picked up Stu and started fucking him in mid-air, smooth lips against bearded ones. The harder and faster Hank thrust into his love, the more weight seemed to melt off him. Hank went from bulky to more powerfully built, with greater and greater definition. Cut muscles were revealed across his back and torso, and his ass showed incredible striation as his hips sped up. Sweat gleamed over his body as his huge biceps and powerful legs flexed, and, still sucking face, both men came. I could hear Stu cussing against his husband's kiss, though the words were muffled, and Hank's whole body just shuddered as they coated each other in their seed... which also seemed to melt into their flesh almost immediately. Both men then sank to the ground, wrapped in each other's embrace and drifted off to sleep again. I went over to the device, and found that it had overheated and died, its internal circuits fried sometime during the events of the evening, leaving it as a useless molten piece of junk. The lotion container that Stewart had needed was likewise entirely empty. I tried to clean up, but the guys wouldn't be moved from their spot on the carpet, so I settled in on the couch to be there for them when they woke up. Everything's different now. Stu and Hank (or Stud and Hunk, as they sometimes refer to themselves) have a voracious sexual appetite now, especially for each other. They're the only ones they can really cut loose with, since they are so much stronger and more durable than other men. That hasn't stopped them from pursuing careers as rising stars in the porn world. The public loves Stu's rough and tumble Daddy Bear style, and he's taken to the leather world as well. Meanwhile, at 7'3," Hank is one of the tallest, most powerfully built men out there, and he's seen as the strong, stoic type. Their old minds and memories are hazy at best, and Hank especially seems to be a completely new man. Their sex drives are through the roof, though, and they seem ready to try new things, so they've moved across the country to settle in to new lives where they won't have to encounter their old friends and family. I get a Christmas card each year from them, usually with palm trees and naked guys on it. And, of course, I have ordered every film they've starred in. Nobody knows what went wrong with the weird device and the gel. No one was ever able to replicate the same results with either product. The doctors gave each man a clean bill of health, but their psychiatrists said it might be years before they mentally and emotionally recover from the changes... if ever. They said that Henry and Stewart's nerves must've been hijacked by the malfunctioning device's signal through the medium of the gel, and through those nerves, the rest of their physiology was similarly affected. But doctors and shrinks became compromised after I found one worshipping both partners. It seemed that people just couldn't keep their hands off Hank and Stu... including Hank and Stu. When they left, they were both too into exploring their new muscles and minds that they spent an increasing amount of time having sex and exploring their changes. They didn't even say goodbye. As for me? I'm just living my life, just a normal guy who had a brush with greatness. I'm hoping someday, someone or someones will love me that much.
  14. Twenty Something Inches (the Remix) Forum Note: I've always loved this story, and ploder4 on our site mentioned wanting to continue it (his continuation here: Twenty Something Inches - continued). I decided to start posting my remix of the original. Please keep in mind that this version, my version, is also relatively unedited, but I wanted to start posting what I have to get some feedback and buzz going. So, its A Work in Progress! I'll be posting updates as the creative juices flow. ** A heavily edited and modified redo of the original "Twenty Something Inches" - credit for the story concept and original content goes to the original author, theEd. ** Where should i start? boys? men? muscle gods? well, in order to talk about these gods-among-men, I guess I need to start with the .. uh ... well, with the blast of gamma radiation ... yeah. its gonna be one of those kinda stories... cept this is real. Let me talk about my life first. Male. 20 years old. I recently moved out of my parents house. No big deal, it was way overdue and I loved the freedom. It was a whole new adventure for me, out on my own, even if it meant living with roommates that were nothing like me. There was Bill, the guy who decided it was safer to park his motorcycle in our living room. There was Chris, a quiet emo kid who raised tarantulas and snakes in his bedroom. And, there was Nick, a very bad guitar player who had a grower connection and sold dope on campus. We were all about the same age, the youngest being Chris, at seventeen. It was a shitty living environment by any standards: bugs everywhere, the shower muddy and barely a trickle, food, clothes, papers everywhere. The roommates had these unexpected parties which only further trashed the house and made the whole place reek of pot smoke. I never partook and really didn't like the smell, so, of course, the thick haze somehow, without fail, would always manage to settle right in my bedroom every time. We were lucky that this house was buried in the woods, or we would've gotten to know our local cops quite well. Another good part was that no one ever knew who the true owner of the house was. We never met, or even had a phone conversation with, anyone who claimed ownership. We all found the house on craigslist and sent our rent checks to some corporate management firm. No one ever bothered us, even if one or more of us had missed payment last month. We enjoyed our freedom in this arrangement, so we tried to pay rent as often as possible. I was the one who almost regularly missed rent payments. I was there because I had no money and the rent was super cheap. Even then, it was rough for me. But, I still had my notebook, so I could write; I was going to be a famous writer someday, and repay all these debts. Writing was my gift, my passion. I approached the world with an open mind and an open heart, pen and paper at the ready, but I never quite expected that I would write about Bill, Chris and Nick. That's all the background you need about them: Bill was always an okay kind of guy, Chris was kind of creepy, really, and Nick… well, we never got along very well. Nick’s all-night-long parties got popular mainly because of the non-stop supply of beer and weed, but he also had live, local bands blasting throughout the night and eventually, the parties became known for the overall "higher" quality of guys and girls that would fill the house. Popular kids from the schools, jocks, athletes, dealers, actresses, up-and-comers, all started flocking to Nick's parties. The house always seemed near collapse, though somehow it would hold together til the next day. In the beginning it was fun; I even scored with some girls and guys. (I’m bi, by the way.) But, then it started to get on my nerves. I couldn’t sleep normal hours anymore, the kitchen was always a total mess, and the bathrooms were beyond disgusting. We had to start pooling money to pay a clean lady to come in two times a week, but after four or five months, even she gave up on our mess. One random Tuesday night, Bill and Nick decided to barbecue at 3am. They fired up the grill on our outdoor roof/deck/rickety-death-trap/patio area and proceeded to laugh and yell and stomp around until the whole house was awake. Drunk and stoned outta their minds, even more than usual, the guys were interrupted by a bright falling star streaking across the clear night sky. Bill laughed, pointing, “Hey man, look at that! Make a wish!" The star suddenly froze in place and started to swell with a white so bright the boys had look away. “Wow, dude, what the fuck is that? It's so fucking bright!" Nick said after a few moments of awed silence. "Where's our wannabe astronomer? Hey Einstein, get out here! You're missing the most awesome thing!” Nick yelled down in my general direction. They called me Einstein, very original, aren’t they? I looked out a nearby window and saw the blinding ball of light, now the size of the moon. “Shit, what the hell," I muttered to myself before reason kicked in. "Guys! Come inside, quick!” I yelled. “Fuck! Who we should call? NASA?” Bill asked, completely ignoring my warning. "Someone get a camera! Grab my phone!" Nick yelled into the house, never taking his eyes off the light. "Come inside! Quick! That thing could be dangerous!" I repeated from inside the safety of our house. Chris rushed passed my open bedroom door with his phone in hand. I followed after him, hoping to at least get him to stay inside. No dice. He quickly tucked his thin frame through the open window and climbed out onto the roof. “Look at that,” he said, watching the light show through the screen of his phone's video app. I peeked out at the scene from the edge of the window frame. The star exploded with a blinding light that turned the entire sky white. I stepped back as the guys outside covered their eyes. Whatever it was, I had to protect myself. Those guys were crazy to stay out there! I slammed the old, leaded window closed just as a burst of purple and green flashes filled the horizon. I crouched down into a ball as I felt the whole house start to shake. I was scared shitless! The rumbling got louder and louder, making everything rattle and vibrate with a deadly intensity. "We're all gonna die!" I cried in a meek whisper, mentally complimenting myself on a wonderful choice of last words. At the peak of noise and shaking, there was a huge BANG! and then it all just... stopped. I was trembling; too afraid to open the window to see if they got toasted by whatever THAT was. I made myself stand and was about to peek through the window when I suddenly heard Nick and Bill yelling "oooh"s and "aaaah"s, like they were watching a 4th of July firework show. Seconds later, they calmed down and that was it. That was the moment that changed our lives. That brief moment... and no one had a single clue. **** Two months later, I started to notice odd things happening to my roommates. Specifically, to their bodies-- They began to ... "swell," i guess is the word ... with muscle. That Bill would grow muscles easily, was expected. But Chris and Nick? Both were sticks. Two totally flat, tall guys. I had always been attracted to athletic bodies, male and female, and Chris and Nick flew under my radar. Nick always dressed tight, emo/punk shirts. I started noticing those old shirts were straining against his now-curvy body. His arms had visible muscles swelling now, and when he played his guitar, veins would start to web across them. I also started to notice, to my quiet anger and jealousy, that he was scoring a lot more often, and off a wider variety of girls. Chris would never leave his room and he when he did, he would always wear baggy clothes, so I had quite a shock when he finally started coming out of his cave. The first time he came up to "chill" nearly killed me! My initial surprise was that he was being overly social all of a sudden, but what really dropped my jaw was that he wearing very little, allowing me my first real glimpse of him shirtless. He had pecs, big pecs, and abs, and biceps-- the whole package! He was still border-line "slim," but he was already becoming muscular, showing off more size and thickness than I could claim on my own twinky body. I knew that this guy had never set foot in a gym, and the last, and only, time I saw his chest, there was not a single, pale muscle to speak of. My brow furrowed in confusion, asking myself, “What the hell is going on…?" I tried to ignore all three of them, chalking up their changes in normal male growth spurts, but each week it became more and more difficult to ignore. I had some abstract suspicions by the forth week, and by the fifth and sixth, my otherwise wacky suspicions were becoming fact. On afternoon, I realized I was now about an inch shorter than everyone. Bill, already tall, became much taller. So did Chris and Nick. I began to wonder how much longer they were going to pretend nothing was going on. How could they continue to pretend not to notice when they were obviously starting to tower over me? My main theory was, of course, something related to that night. I began my quest for answers and searched everywhere i could imagine. I Googled, Binged, Yahoo!'d, and newsgroup'd long into the night, digging deep for a single, tiny shred of information that could connect an odd, unexplainable celestial event to multiple counts of spontaneous, unnatural muscle growth. I found some great muscle growth-related sites, but I found nothing of scientific merit. (I bookmarked the fiction and morph sites) **** One night, Bill knocked on my bedroom door and started shouting through the wood about needing more condoms. Of course, I had plenty. I grabbed a couple from my sad, unused stash and opened my door. My jaw dropped. There was Bill, one hand holding onto a loosely tied towel, stretched taut across the bulging muscle of his thighs. His pecs were huge and thick, his abs deep and defined, his bis swollen and round-- My eyes didn't know where to start! I was drawn back down to his waist, where my eyes froze in place, locked onto his crotch. Pushing against the towel, and outlined in glorious detail, was a full, huge, hard dick. It was big-- abnormally big-- mouthwateringly big. I was speechless. For way too long. Who was this muscle beast?! I already knew (from his loud bragging) that he had 18’ 1/2 biceps, but that stat was from a while ago, and now... now, the rest of his body seemed unreal. “Hey man? Something wrong?” his pecs bounced as he adjusted the towel. “It’s… I... uh... here. I… hope they fit...” “Me too, I already blew three of these fuckin things tonight. They just don’t make rubbers like they used to!" he laughed to himself. "I mean, man, it sucks, you know," he said, leaning in, lowering his masculine baritone a bit, "I have two babes worshiping me down there and these fucking rubbers don’t last a fucking second. Fuck! Can I take more?” I started at his enormous body... Too long, apparently. He raised his eyebrows and loudly cleared his throat. "Sure," I stammered out. “Thanks pal, you’re the best,” he said, bouncing his pecs again as he took the second handful of condoms. I couldn't help but watch him saunter away. For the next hour, I heard Bill absolutely trashing his dates. I decided those girls had to be waaaaaaay too drunk to scream like that. I soon found out, though, they weren't drunk at all. All the screaming and begging for more and "Oh God"'ing was because of, what I would later call, Bill's "Factor." I wouldn't understand any of it until much later. **** One day later that month, I was coming back to the house from school and was surprised to find Nick, tanning on the death-trap-patio above the main entrance. He was completely nude except for a tiny, little pair of white bikini underwear. Now, normally, he was that kind of guy that avoided sun at all costs, but apparently, "New Nick" had other ideas. I was dumbfounded and had to make a snarky comment, “Hey Nick, sunbathing?? You?” This got his attention and he stood up, moving dangerously close to the edge of the roof. The sun was glaringly bright, but I could still see he wasn't big as Bill, but was certainly getting close! I made special note of big swell his legs were showing. "You got a problem with that, Einstein?” he said, looking down on me, like a god surveying his property. “Hey, woah. No problem, man!” I shot back, trying to recall the last time Nick had been a dick to me. I couldn't remember a time, but then again, we never really interacted much. Maybe it was a bad day? I continued on into the house and managed to overhear him taking a phone call. He certainly wasn’t a dick to the person on the other end of the call! I began to wonder, "did I do something to him?" I found Chris fixing himself something to eat in our huge, common kitchen. He never cooked! I quickly took in his impressive new body. His enhanced curves and swells pulled his otherwise shiny, black UnderArmor outfit to the point of being translucent in places. “Hey, Chris, hungry enough to finally cook?” I managed to get out, fighting my suddenly dry mouth. “Yeah. I get hungry a lot, lately.” “Oh. I see… do you…” he turned to me, and my God, his pecs were the size of Bills! Maybe bigger! “…are…” His body stopped my brain, dead. “Are... what?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. His biceps exploded as he lifted a huge jar of water to his lips. He gulped and gulped, but some water spilled from his mouth and soaked his shirt. “err… uh... nothing...” I was sweating. When I first met Chris, we were about the same height and build. Not anymore. He was now quite a bit taller than me. I actually had to look up at his eyes. What. the. fuck!? What is going on?! Is it just me? Am I the only one noticing these sudden changes to my roommates? Am I going insane?! **** I gulped, “Well…uh... I guess you are on the right track…" My eyes followed his hands as they moved around his body, feeling and testing his mass. He paused and I looked back up into his eyes. He caught me staring, again! I had to distract, "but aren’t you concerned about how or why this insane muscle growth is happening? I mean, this sudden gain in size isn't norm--" “Yes… a little…" he interrupted. "But, I have a feeling that whatever this is, it's good for me... and it'sh beyond any of our control… you undershtan, Matthew?” I suddenly realized that he was drunk. “I… guess…” “I shaw that you started lookin at me in a different way, too…” he smiled at me with this cocky grin, totally out of character. “I…. What you mean?” My eyes jumped down to his hands as they cupped at his delicious-looking pecs. “Everyone should look at me the way you do…” Chris let his hands fall to his sides and balanced his weight on one hip. He looked at me through tipsy, yet expectant eyes. “Ok... Chris, lemme put it this way… you… are not exactly my type. You know? Just not a match." He actually looked disappointed! Then, a bit angry. Then, defiant. "I saw you checking me out." “Waaait a minute… you are like… growing bigger, right in front of me! What do you expect?” “And, it doesn’t turn you on?” He flexed his arm under my nose. Whatever gorgeous visage was standing before me and making me drool, I had to remember the person that lie beneath. “Look Chris, sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but…” I could see he was not happy. He had opened up to me and I was treating him like he's crazy for thinking anyone would be into him. I mean, he was a kid! More than three years younger than me and, besides, he had pet snakes and spiders. He was kinda creepy like that... He loved watching his pet predators killing their prey, up close. Growing muscles aside, that kid had problems that I didn’t want anything to do with. “Let’s be friends, okay?” “I understand...” he said coldly and turned his wide back to me. He didn’t talk to me for weeks after that night. I think he always thought of himself as a freak and I just validated those core fears-- I might have even made him feel worse! **** During those following weeks, the musclehead trio bought some free-weights to use in the house. They started to spot one another, spend all their time together, eat tons and tons of food together, and even go to clubs together. I tried to stay out of their way as much as possible. I'd even listen for their heavy footsteps around the old house so I could move around without incident. It wasn't a precise science, but with Bill's extra muscly pounds, I could at least hear where he was; from there I could kinda guess where the other two were. And, throughout every single day, dawn to dusk, I could hear at least one of them lifting weights in the garage. With their all-over size gains, it was hard to guess who was spending more time in there. Then, by early evening, they'd be pounding away at some new herd of slutty "friends." All three of them were fucking as many holes as they could. They didn’t even need to throw parties anymore-- the parties came to them. To the party clique, I was totally invisible. My witty banter couldn't compete with the guys flexing an arm. People just wanted to be near them. Chris was still struggling, though. He was an oddball at heart, and didn't always fit in-- Well, that wasn’t my problem! But, most of the time, I could walk around the party-packed house without any rude encounter. I'd just throw out the obligatory ‘hi’ now and then to the random faces I saw, and scoot along my merry way. But, when I'd actually see one of my roommates, in the center of the throng, I had to fight so hard not to stop and stare at their increasing muscular size. But what would stop me in my tracks, without fail, was the fact that their dicks were getting bigger, too. I think. Each of the guys, with their own clothing styles, managed to wear pants that clearly outlined every lump, flare, and vein of their increasingly huge alpha cocks. The boys now looked porn-star hung and didn't care who saw. It was getting more and more difficult the bigger and bigger they got. For the first month, it was relatively easy for me, but with their bodies lookin the way they do now... **** One day I got really hungry and was too tired to go out and grab food myself. So, I went to the fridge and grabbed some meat to cook-- our fridge overflowed with labeled chunks of various beasts, wrapped in plastic or covered on plates. I was really hungry and ate a whole portion of honey-roasted chicken breast. I didn’t realize the danger I'd put myself in. I turned around to see Nick standing in the doorway, and, man, did he explode at me: “What the FUCK are you DOING?” He was shirtless and huge, and had two of his "groupies" behind him. Nick was bigger than I ever seen him before. And, the last time I had seen him shirtless, he had 19’ arms. He was starting to look like a competitive bodybuilder! I jumped at his sudden appearance and the pure anger in his booming voice. “Man, I was hungry. I'm gonna replace it later when I go to the store! I'm--” his speed surprised me even more, given his new size. He was right up against me and, grabbing my neck, he lifted me in the air, choking the air from me. “You fucking PRICK! Who gave you permission to take MY food?” “I’m… sorry…” my feet were dancing in the air, scrabbling for something to alleviate the pressure on my neck. My face felt like It was gonna burst. “…I--" “Answer me!” “I… am…(gasp) answering… you(gasp)” The two swooning groupies, a blond and a ginger, begged Nick to he put me down after a minute or two. I crashed to the floor, gasping to breath. I coughed and looked up at him to see, much to my relief, that the girls had managed to soothe the beast. As the girls continued to rub themselves against his solid form, I saw his cock starting to swell and push out hard against he jeans. He groaned as the girls rubbed their tits on his arms and back, whispering in his ears about how strong and huge he was. His torn jeans barely held his legs muscles-- every lump and mound clearly visible, with the tough fabric stretched to near-transparency over his waist-thick quads. I found myself staring again. “Listen to me, you fucking idiot. Get my food now, or I’ll fucking rip your fucking arms off!" “Ok," was all I could manage as I scrambled to my feet, stunned. What the fuck was that?!! Roid rage?!! Jesus! He turned and strolled out of the room, leaning in to kiss each of the girls as they grabbed at his hunky muscles. Fuckin steroids! I rubbed my throat, thinking, and it dawned on me. Now I get why he named his band "Roid Rage!" He's fuckin' explosive! And fuckin psycho! About as psycho as the dumbass producer that actually seems interested in signing him. Maybe Nick attacked him like he did me just now, and the dudes too scared to say 'no.' My brain worked to quickly block out what had just happened and I started to ponder Nick's career. He's gonna get signed?? No way! He’s not that good! Not at all... He’s a prick. An immense prick. And dangerous, apparently! But, then there's that body... I followed his movement out of the kitchen and into the chill zone, where two more girls joined the threesome. They all fell onto a couch and basically started a little orgy right there in front of me. Nick was getting too dangerous to be this close to. He could have killed me, the fuck! What the hell could I do, though? Call the cops? Leave? In the end, I went out and bought two big packages of fresh meat which more than replaced what I'd eaten. **** I realized I was feeling fucking submissive. Hearing Nick call my name, or any mocking variation thereof, would knock the wind outta my sails, and he knew it-- Fucking bastard. He never exactly "bullied" me, but there was psychological torture that he definitely enjoyed putting me through. And, his new favourite torture was to tease me with his big muscles. He totally got off on how I got mesmerized by his size. He would even go as far as to taunt me by jumping on my lap, grinning that cocky, hot, alpha grin, and trace his finger along each muscle, going from group to muscle group, pointing out just how much bigger he was than me. I was just an average guy, with an average life and a slim, albeit defined, average body, but Nick... Nick was becoming this arrogant, swole, bulky muscle god-- and I hated that I loved watching it happen. It was quickly becoming hell to deal with Nick. ***** Bill seemed easier to deal with, at first. Even bigger than Nick, he at least started off with a bit of respect for me. But, I saw their growth was starting to do funny things on their heads. Some weeks ago, Bill asked me to take down any random messages that came in for him on the landline. (We all used that number as a dumping ground for spam calls, but I guess he was giving it out more frequently now.) What started as a favor turned me into his personal fucking assistant. He hated electronic stuff, so every email, every call, I had to be there or Bill-- William, I had to call him, now, to sound more "professional"-- otherwise, William would get pissed. He probably be even more pissed if he knew i often called him "Billy" in my head. He opened up to me and finally started talking about how his newfound, massive muscle gains were absolutely changing his life. He proudly went on to tell me about his financial windfalls. He'd grown huge and now he was gettin paid! BANK! His body was generating some serious cash revenue... People all over were sending him money for various reasons. He got a new computer for cam chats, several new phones to help track his progress, brand new cutting edge gym equipment, clothes, shoes, supplements, giant new flatscreens-- even a fancy, 3D, curved behemoth for us to use in the chill room. He got money to buy a chopper and was even given a modded Subaru WRX-somethingerother. He was as surprised as I was! He had no idea that people would actually pay just to touch him. And, neither of us could've ever imagined exactly just how much his "fans" were actually willing to pay! Turned out, by doing absolutely nothing cept flexing on cam and maybe dancing a bit, he was making more per month than both my parents, combined!! I had to admit, tho, he'd gotten to the point where I could totally understand why. He was prime, huge, alpha stud. So Bill paid me to be his personal assistant, which barely put food on my table. I saw the money coming in and quickly decided I deserved a bigger cut. But, typical mousy me, I didn't have the balls to mention it. Granted, greed aside, he was being nice to me as it was... and I did really, really enjoy the primary perk of the job: getting up-close, VIP-level, nearly unlimited access, to behind-the-scenes views of that fuckin huge-ass body! Bill-- William-- was now proudly sporting guns that broke the twenty inch mark weeks ago. He had always been a jock, not necessarily intelligent, or "book smart," I guess you could call it, but he was certainly smart enough to manipulate the hell outta people. **** Once, in his newest gift, a badass truck, I was complaining about friggin Nick when Bill suddenly interrupted me. “Man, you remember that night you freaked out because we were growing…?” “Yeah...” I asked cautiously, quietly impressed that his muscular frame was taking up my entire view. I realized that even with our new working "relationship," we'd never actually discussed that night. “We were playing dumb… Of course we knew it was happening!" Finally! The validation made me smile, inwardly. "C’mon, do you really think that…” he flexed his monstrous bicep pretty much in my face “…that we wouldn't notice... this?” “oh, really...” I let the sarcasm roll off my tongue. “Those days, you couldn’t stop staring at us. It was so funny!" That snapped my mouth shut! I began to blush-- I wasn't expecting that hard truth! I wasn't ready to admit anything to anybody about my inner feelings; I certainly wasn't ready to openly discuss it with Bil-- William-- right here, right now! “What the hell you are talking about, William?” I tried to feign ignorance then anger. He stopped the car at a light and faced me, “Look at my body, bro. I know what you're thinking..." I gulped, my throat suddenly dry, “Oh? What am I thinking, William?” He grinned at me, that cocky alpha sneer, for an uncomfortably long time. He grabbed inside his collar with both hands and tore his shirt halfway down his torso, exposing his gorgeous chest to me. The ripping motion made his pecs bounce into view, swollen with an unnatural weight. I literally lost my breath. My jaw went slack. Bill was so huge that my brain couldn’t compute. I reacted like a girl seeing a penis for the first time. My eyes were everywhere, trying to take it all in. I actually felt an embarrassing rivulet of drool slide along my lower lip. The traffic light had long since turned green, but neither of us cared. He shifted in his seat and grabbed at his bulging crotch. My eyes couldn't help but follow. "Now, you're thinking about the size of my horse cock." He grinned after that matter-of-fact statement. I couldn’t even react because that was exactly what I was thinking. I could only make out lumps and curves, exaggerated by the glow of the truck's console. A car behind us beeped in annoyance and we started moving again, but William kept his hand pressed on his crotch. As we rolled along the street, the evenly-placed street lights began to animate a beautiful thickness, creeping down his thigh. The surreal flip-card show ended abruptly as we pulled into a parking lot and, Bam! There, in his tight pants, the fine details of this massive snake were illuminated-- the lump was just the base, and halfway down his huge thigh sat the most well-known shape in the history of modern man. The drool fell heavily off my lower lip. “It's over ten inches, dude." “…ten…” I dragged the back of my hand across my lips, absent-mindedly trying to wipe away any more tell-tale drool. The slurping sound was abnormally loud. “Each month, a new inch, Matt... Can you believe that?! Fuckin awesome!! An inch a month! Fuckin sex god, right here, bro!" My eyes followed his hand down to the plump cock head clearly outlined by, and straining against, the fabric of his shorts. I licked my lips. "What if we don’t stop growing, man? Can you imagine...?” He kinda trailed off, lost in his own fantasy. His cock flexed hard against his shorts, the mushroom tip starting to peek out from the stretched leg opening. “This is just the beginning, Mat... can you fuckin imagine?” I didn’t have to imagine! It was real. This tank's shoulders took up almost the entire width of the front seats. I was being pressed against my door just sitting next to him. His big-ass cock was now threatening to rip his pants if it grew any longer or harder. I forced my eyes shut and tried to imagine what it would be like to actually have sex with this guy. I would be squashed like those bugs on the windshield. I'd have to hold on to his massive frame for dear life, constantly pushing back against him just to get a breath! I could easily fit on his lap, my legs wrapped around his tiny waist, if I were lucky enough to be given the option to ride him. Then I could focus on surviving all 10+ inches pummeling my insides with animal abandon, it's arrow-straight thickness reinforced by the tree trunk enormity of his quads, flexed hard against the seat of the car. The painful hardness of my own cock suddenly ripped me from my fantasy. Shit!! OMG! I was ready to explode! My rod was clearly tenting out my shorts. I was oozing pre-cum. Dangerously close to "go time." I froze in fear, embarrassment, lust, everything... paralyzed. A sliver of clear liquid inched down my inner thigh. He could do whatever he wanted with me. We locked eyes. And, I would let him. Not that fighting against him would make any difference. And, I would love it. He kept looking over at me with that arrogant grin shining across his huge muscular frame. Bill knew I was trapped-- my senses, lust, fantasies, all locked me up, rendering me totally unable to think properly. I felt completely invaded by his gaze and control over me. “...are- are you going to rape me?” I've never been harder or more horny. I ached. My puppy-dog eyes belied my feigned surface fear, desperately pleading for him to take me. God, how I wanted him to push me down, hold me in place, and just destroy me-- to just fuck me hard. I heard myself whisper in the faintest of secret breaths, "Please--" I could feel the truck shaking. He was howling with laughter! "Hey, Mat, you are so fuckin funny!!" He patted me hard on the shoulder. "That’s exactly what every fuckin client of mine wants! But you might have actually had that pleasure!" Another rough pat on my shoulder shook me totally back to reality. "Fuckin crazy, man! People all around me, hoping I'd actually rape them. Isn’t that fucked up!?" I could only nod. "Grab me another shirt from those boxes in back.” I didn’t know what to think. Did he get his huge cock hard in front of me as some kinda joke? Was ripping his shirt off just a mind fuck? If so, these were games I would always lose. I recovered a bit more and asked, “Are you sure these people don't want normal sex, not… uh... to be raped…?" What a weird topic of conversation. And, damn, his cock was still as hard as before. I busied myself with finding a new matching shirt for him in the pile of boxed clothes, stuffed in the back of the truck's extended cab. “That’s the weird thing, before all this growth I had this girlfriend that I fucked on daily basis. Her mother fuckin hated me. It was worse with her dad. They totally despised me... But as soon as I realized every hot-ass chick in sight was startin to get all up on me, I dropped my girl faster than flaming shit." I pulled out a XXL polo and handed it to William. "So, last week she called me again. She said she missed me and all that bullshit. I went to her pad to bang her one more time; kinda a goodbye/sympathy fuck. But, when I walked into the living room and her hater family saw me, all brand new, with these swole-ass guns and big-ass pecs…” Bill pulled off the rest of his destroyed shirt. I could hardly pay attention to his story, every move was an explosion of huge tanned muscle. His old shirt was basically glued to his body and the new polo was no different. He pulled it down, covering his godly torso. It was like an angelic light had been suddenly shut off. I could think again! But, was immediately entranced by his cloth-covered, massive pecs, lit perfectly by the lot's security lights. And, his bis!! Good God! They were like footballs tucked under flesh! Everything pressed against his strained shirt, bouncing and bunching as he continued his story, talking loudly with his hands. “...and then, I had her fuckin mother, under the table, suckin on my cock while her fuckin daughter was taking a shower for our date! Unreal, bro!" My eyes fixated on his cock again. "I could fuck anyone in that family. Haha! I came on the old bitch’s face while her wimp-ass husband was sitting right in the other room! I made sure he knew what was goin on, but he kept pretending it wasn’t happening! Man, I totally dominated that fuckin family. Talk about change of respect.” Shit. God. When is William gonna do that to me? Bend me over, break me in, make me a slave to his every whim? Am I gonna have to act like a dog and beg? Get on the ground and look up at him, "Please fuck my face, sir?" What if he doesn't like it, tho? The possible punishments... Would he crush me? Never talk to me again? The truck's windows had completely fogged over and it was friggin sweltering inside. “So, uh, William, let’s go back home?” “Nah, let’s go inside." “Hooligan’s? Isn't this the place that Nick plays?” “Yah. Always a lotta chicks. Haha! Look at my fuckin cock! It's ready to go all night, bro! It ain't gonna rest til I sink it deep!” His arrogance shot right to my dick again. Hot. And, Hello? Billy! I'm right here, mouth open, totally fucking wanting to suck you dry! Right here, fucker! Don't even have to get outta the car. He swung his door open, “I’ll fuck the first set'a huge titties I see! Promise you!” He wasn't even really talking to me anymore, but I didn’t doubt it. Waking side by side towards the club, anyone could see who the real man was. Bill towered over me with his 6’6" or 6’7"-- I wasn’t sure anymore. There was a pretty long line to get in, but William pushed right through everyone, his 10 incher rock solid, bumping asses, and totally on display. The line of generic people hushed as he moved through them. Bill was hunting for a good-looking girl to fuck. Of the hundred or so people, he zoomed in on a decent-looking brunette. She knew she'd been chosen-- her pupils dilated and nipples got hard. She tried to look away as he approached, but went crazy with lust when she finally got a full view of him. He grabbed at his crotch while she feverishly groped his arms and pecs, then, without a word, they pushed out of the line, and tucked around a nearby corner. Bill started to fuck her, right there, in a nasty little alley, just three or four steps off the busy sidewalk where everyone was waiting. Flashes of flesh and clothing would briefly pop into view, writhing and whipping around, giving visual to the unmistakeable sounds of hungry sex audible just under the walla of the crowd. Watching the edge of the wall long enough it was easy to tell he was ramming her from behind, standing, pressing her up against the wall. To Billy, it was quite normal, I think. But to me and others keen to the show, it felt beyond surreal... A cheesy porno plot made real, right before a shocked audience's eyes. To the normal Joe, this would never even begin to take place, but with his model-boy, chiseled looks, his enormously pumped, muscular body, and his 10"-and-growing Magnum dick, all powered by his alpha cockiness and sex drive, this was an expected, regular event for Billy. A typical weeknight, really. After a solid 10 or so minutes, Billy was making his way back to the front door, still stuffing his deflating cock back in his pants. “Shit man, I fucking ruined her clothes.” I looked past Billy and saw her walking back to her friends, with her dress in rags, completely soaked with his cum and sweat. She could've been ashamed of herself, being so openly and quickly dominated and fucked, but instead, wore her fucked-up hair as a trophy. Her friends were asking all about it and him-- they envied her! Wow. What the fuck was going on? He was a total dick to this random bar chick and she still wanted more. Billy was ready to go inside and didn’t give a shit about the line. He pushed to the front and I noticed none of the doormen made moves to stop him. I was pulled inside right behind Bill, but I quickly moved off to the side for a second, so I could adjust to the loud, dark nightclub. My mind was still reeling from the previous 20 minutes, and I was still in shock over the stuff with Billy in the truck. Shake it off. **** While Bill was being showered with attention, I sat at the bar and ordered a beer. Sipping at it and getting lost in thought, someone patted me on the shoulder. Turning around I saw Nick looking down at me, over and between his pecs; his wifebeater left nothing to the imagination, helping to show off their size and symmetry. He squinted his eyes at me before shouting over the noise, “Hey girls! The music critic is finally gracing us with his presence!" In an instant whirlwind, I was thrust into the center of Nick’s ‘friends'-- people whose lives were spent in his shadow, agreeing with any stupid bullshit thing that came out of his mouth. The "yes" crowd. But, man, he certainly did have a lot of these ‘friends.' “I come in peace, Nick,” I yelled over the music, trying to sound cool. “You have to, bro. Joe, tell him what happened to the last… critic." Joe was the original bandleader, the alpha, the number one, the rising star, before Nick’s unexplainable growth. Now, he was a zombie like the others. “Haha! All I remember was him having his mouth too full to talk any shit, right Nick?” The laughed. “Yeah, dude, his face was fuckin hilarious!! But, he -was- begging for it, wasn’t he girls?” All the chicks swooned in agreement. “Tooootally,” said one punk girl as she patted and ran her fingers along Nick's cock bulge. It had to be a full moon! Two muscle-monster roommates of mine, basically threatening to rape me on the same day! Nick adjusted his cock to help it snake down his leg while the punk groupies rubbed him. It grew obscenely large, incredibly quickly. Two other girls were feeling him from behind, cupping at his pecs, squeezing his bis, but none of that stopped him from glaring down at me with a sneer. He flared his muscular back and the two babes gasped and moaned as they continued feeling him up. Hands were everywhere, dwarfed by his frame. It made me suddenly realize, as he flexed, that he'd grown so massive, he now rivaled most pro bodybuilders I'd seen pictures of! He was wearing some kind of purple dark unitard beneath the white wifebeater-- clothes only a Mexican luchador would choose-- clothes that managed to make every line of his growing cock and thick-ass legs stand out with a bright, glowing shine. He was looking like a glam-ish version of Conan, the Barbarian. He was just plain huge. Everyone looked like children next to his 6’5", thick, broad frame. “Show time! Means, time for you to go, critic!" He shoved me away, with a wink. "Later, you gotta tell me what you think of my show!" As could be expected for a band called "Roid Rage," their show was a bunch of guys torturing instruments and insulting their audience. It couldn't even be classified as thrash metal. It was just noise, a very loud noise, created just to deafen any ear. Of course, the primary focus of their stage show was Nick, lit by spots, destroying a guitar and yelling at a microphone. His guitar was a cheap piece of crap because it wouldn’t survive that night. By my side was an older guy, an odd figure amidst the clubgoers. He was entranced by the spectacle. and when Nick ripped off his sweaty wifebeater, this guys eyes practically burst into cartoony dollar signs. Apparently, he was a low-life unsuccessful music producer. Needless to say, he quickly became Nick's producer, but thankfully, and just as quickly, he faded into the background, becoming just another sex slave, worshiping at the altar of Nick's neverending growth. But, for the moment, he was just another guy who couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nick’s crotch. I realized that I had lost track of Bill, and he was nowhere to be seen. He was probably off fucking some girl(s). Some stupid lucky hoes. Some pretty, titty, trashy tramps that... weren't... me. Huh. Was I actually pissed that he was off long-dickin some gutter skanks when he should really be fucking me? Did I fall that hard for him, or, shit... them... that fast? Fuck!! My dick was sprung imagining Billy and Nick just destroying some faceless bar whores, but my heart was aching in an ugly jealousy that it wasn't me being banged unconscious by the two godly studs. Their lives were suddenly heavenly-- like twin white-hot suns, scorching to ash everything they looked upon. It made me think of Kafka’s Metamorphosis; it was about a twenty-something guy turning into a repulsive, very fragile giant cockroach. Enduring this transformation took everything he had. He survived, only to die in the end from hunger and loss, abandoned by all, even his family. It was a fucking sad story. Really. But here, it was the complete opposite-- it was Kafka antimatter! Each day, these boys were getting more and more appealing to everyone around them... Forcing a kind of pervasive mob-mentality onto the throngs of slack-jawed groupies, brain-washing them all into living for one thing, and one thing only, the worship of their bodies-- their muscles, their enormous biceps and pecs and quads-- their unchecked egos, their alpha male monster cocks, their insatiable appetites. Each day, their power and control grew, and their true prime alpha status became more and more obvious. And, stuck at ground zero? Little ol me. I've been forced to watch this whole... ascension... from the very beginning! I couldn’t hold in my own shameless desires for Nick and Billy any longer. Each day, I felt would finally be the day where I crumble and give in to my lust. My addiction was becoming harder and harder to feed. Sometimes, I'd find myself hiding in some cramped corner in the garage just to watch Bill work out. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that tomorrow they will actually be bigger. Bill's musings in the truck that day started to dominate my thoughts: when it will stop? Will it stop? What if they turn into giants, fucking and devouring everything in sight? They weren't anywhere near that point yet, but, my god, these boys were pushing all the right envelopes already. The sound of Nick obliterating his guitar ripped me out of my reverie. His massive frame filled my vision, abuptly interrupted by someone handing me a thick blunt. I glanced briefly at the generous club-goer, shrugged, and took a nice, long, suffocating hit. Nick was moving into a hard double-bi pose, his hips thrust forward, showing off that mouth-watering monster cock. It was just there, on full display under his sprayed-on skinny jeans. The crowd went wild with the sound of the guitar screaming as Nick jerked its dangling strings like some bitch's hair he was holding in place to slap with his dick. The high from the pot helped me finally realize that everyone in this nightclub was sharing the same nasty fantasies I was. We all wanted, minimum, to feel Nick’s iron muscles. Some were even shamelessly begging at Nick's feet, high up on the stage, while others were desperately fighting those insane urges. The latter few were the most amusing to watch; big dudes who thought of themselves as alpha males, realizing in shame that they all utterly paled in comparison to Nick. The deafening band was horrible, but Nick didn't need anything to command the respect of the club. In the center of the screeching noise, I could just make out a devouring kind of energy being evoked; it was chaotic like a hurricane and destructive like a tsunami. I had never heard anything like that. The interesting part of this metaphor was that Nick, essentially in the eye of the storm, was actually fueling the whole hurricane on stage. He spun and whipped, full of energy, full of muscle and veins, swollen and pumped like hell. And, suddenly, a pulse of light and thump of bass was the last… whatever this was. I found myself thinking the show was actually way too short. Everyone shouted and begged for more, but the band-- Nick-- didn’t give a shit. I was gasping for air like everyone in the club when I felt an unnatural, roaring heat behind me. I wavered a bit on my feet and bumped straight into something painfully hard and massive. I turned to figure out what the hell piece of furniture was suddenly behind me only to be shocked that the mass was fuckin Bill’s quad. I looked up at him, reeling, "Hey-hi, Bill! Uh... Where were you?” “Backstage. Fucking some twins." He said it so blasé. “Oh… uh..." I quickly understood why he was so hot-- I mean, his body temperature. You get the idea. Some other girls came to talk to Bill, but he just shoved them away, "Let’s go find Nick!” he said as he took my arm and pulled me backstage. We pushed through the decorations and people and I was stopped in my tracks. There, in the middle of everything and everyone, was Nick, sprawled on a ratty couch, getting his beautiful, giant cock worked over by an absolutely on point blonde hottie. He drained his beer and hurled it at the nearest wall. It exploded in glass, just adding to the nearly impassible layers of debris on the floor. Cans, glass, scraps of food and clothes, cigarette butts, baggies... all manner of shit made me scared to move for fear of falling on my face and catching hep-C. But, then Nick spotted me. “So, critic! I've been waiting all night! How many stars?” People went quiet when Nick spoke. Everyone looked at me. I had no words when Nick stood up, the blond still sucking his cock. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her off his tool. I could see in her eyes that she wanted to be treated like that. Every girl in this room wanted to be Nick’s whore. He casually tucked his huge hard cock inside the weird glam fatigued leotard he'd changed in to. “Answer me!" I jumped. “It... Uh... It was chaotic, like a hurricane. Destructive, like a tsunami." Everyone looked back at Nick, waiting for his reaction. Bill was the only one chuckling. “That’s a good one… I like it!" Nick said, thoughtfully. “Good review. You're safe, for tonight.” It hurt my pride, but I said, “thanks.” I was spared the public humiliation of being forced to deep throat Nick's amazing cock, but I had conflicting feelings about it. He fell back onto the couch and resumed his private sex show. I left before he changed his mind about publicly raping my throat. (to be continued ... )
  15. "Je vous laisse, mon ami!" "WHAT!, after everything we have we went through together Pierre? I don’t understand what you want me to do. I was going to propose to you at Christmas. You are going to just give up on us without a second thought? I don’t even care that you slept with Gustav, you mean so much to me." “Winston, I just can’t get past the fact that you look…..uhhhh so…..small. I want to be with a partner that can not only make me happy on the inside, but also looks great on the outside.” “I do workout Pierre, you know this. You used to complement me so much on my athletic physique. What happened?” “Gustav est passé mon ami. He fulfills my insatiable desire for muscle. If you were just……uhhhh…..how do you say……bigger, I would be much more satisfied.” Winston continues to look at Pierre dumbfounded and wonders why he would be thinking this way since they seemed to be so happy. Before he can get another word out though, Pierre waves goodbye to him and turns around to get into his car. The stunned thinner young man stands in silence as his eyes well up with tears. They stream down his face as he watches his former lover drive down the road and beyond the mountain outside the city in the distance. To take Pierre off his mind, he walks a few thousand feet down the sidewalk before he stumbles upon a park that is located just on the edge of the city. He enters the passageway and notices an impressively built water fountain about a quarter mile ahead from where he is standing and walks towards it. Halfway there, he can hear several clanging sounds as the sky rains with piles of shiny gold coins. When he leans down to examine some of them, several pelt him in the head and knock him down unconscious. He awakens several minutes later and realizes that the entire path to the water fountain is made of these coins. He hears a voice in the background and wonders if it is his imagination. He speaks loudly. “Hello? Who are you?” There is no answer. He takes a few more steps and notices that some of the coins are loose on the ground and can be picked up. After examining a handful of them, one of them glows a bright green color which immediately catches his eye. He grins as he drops the rest of them and continues to stare at it. The voice returns again which makes him snap out of his trance. “What the? WHO ARE YOU!?” The voice laughs before saying, “Lad, I think you know what you are supposed to do with that lucky coin, am I right?” He looks at it again and then walks the rest of the path to stand directly in front of the fountain. He closes his eyes before flipping it up into the air. As he does this, time slows to a crawl as he watches in amazement when the coin hits the water at half the speed. The splash is so intense that it forms a tidal wave and lands directly on top of him. He yells in fright as it drowns him before draining into the ground. As he comes to again, he looks up and sees a rainbow appear from just over the mountain as it ends directly in front of the fountain just a few feet away from him. A strange looking machine follows it down as it stops at the bottom. A small muscular man dressed in a green outfit with a black belt and a color coordinated hat jumps down and immediately walks over to punch him in the right leg. “OW! What the fuck man? Damn, you are a strong little man. And kind of…..” The small man stops him before he can get another thought out. “Don’t say it mate, I know what you are thinking. You think I am attractive because I have these muscles.” *he points to his biceps and flexes them as they stretch the fabric on his jacket* “Now, I want you to come with me back to my home world Winston so we can get this moving along.” Winston looks thoroughly confused and has no idea what he is talking about as he looks down at him. “Huh? What? I don’t know what you are talking about little man? What did I do?” The little man punches him in the crotch and shakes his head in disbelief as he stands there with his hands on his hips. “Lad, why do you have to be so naïve. You made a wish when you threw that coin into this here fountain behind me. I am here to help you fulfill that wish, but you have to come with me to complete a quest in order for it to come true.” Winston looks on in a stupor as the little man physically picks him and slams him onto the machine he rode on. He gets in on the other side of it as it begins to move. The shocked human has trouble getting any words out as he attempts to comprehend how a man that probably weighs about 50 pounds could carry a guy that is three times his body weight without any resistance whatsoever. “Shhh…..don’t even say anything mate. Let me introduce myself, I am Padraig, leader of the Emerald guild. In case you haven’t noticed, we be muscled LOL.” *he flexes again as the machine moves up the rainbow towards the mountain* “But seriously Winston, you said in your mind as you threw that coin that you wished to become the man that Pierre wanted you to be. This is your chance to show him that you indeed can and will.” Once they get to the other side of the rainbow and over the mountain, Padraig and Winston get off the machine and start walking towards the village located just to their right. The surprised human stops for a few seconds as the little man turns to look up at him. He puts his big right hand on his forehead and sighs before he speaks again. “Winston, I know that this is all a bit of a shock to you, but there is only a small amount of time to complete your quest. Before you begin however, I want you to meet your guide through your adventure.” As they walk through the village, another little muscular man approaches them and stops just far enough away to where he catches the eye of the much taller human. Paddy stops him in his tracks and stands next to Winston before he starts to smile knowing what he must be thinking. He then walks over to the other little man and puts his hand on his beefy shoulder. “Aye there Ioan, glad you could come and participate in the quest that has been selected for you. This here is Winston, he made a wish in the fountain on Earth and is now here to fulfill his destiny.” The remarkably good-looking small man looks up at him and makes a few gestures like he wants Winston to pick him up. When the surprised human attempts to do so, he figures out that the man is a lot heavier than he looks. After a few more failed attempts, Paddy intervenes and leads them both over to a table so they can talk briefly. “Ioan will be with you through this quest Winston. Actually, he will be a part of the quest as well. His fate will be in your hands as a result of a set of questions that will be asked as you make your way through the tundra that is just beyond the gates of this village.” Paddy points in the direction of the tundra and leans over the table to whisper something into Ioan’s ear. The little man looks a tad bit concerned as he turns to look up at Winston and then looks at Padraig again. The elder muscleman gives him a look that suggests that he must go through with whatever he told him or else there will be consequences. After about twenty seconds, Ioan gets up from the table and walks towards the gates before opening them and disappearing into the landscape. Winston is a bit confused as to what just occurred and wonders what this will entail. “I don’t understand what this man has to do with me, but for some reason I feel like I have some connection to him. Is this partly because of the quest that I have to complete with him?” Paddy smiles before he gets up from the table and motions for Winston to do the same. He then leads the human over to the gates and walks through them. They stop after a few hundred feet of entering the tundra before the little man stops. He turns to look up at Winston once more. “Okay lad, this is where I must leave you so you can fulfill your destiny. The tundra will be jarring at first, but once you reach the crossroads, you will know what to do next.” A large sack appears in front of Winston which surprises him. “Take that with you laddy, it has enough supplies in it to sustain you for however long you are here. I wish you luck and I will see you soon.” The little muscleman turns to walk back through the gates as they close behind him and he vanishes. After pausing for a few seconds after picking up the velvet bag, Winston immediately starts walking again across the barren wasteland. The cooler temperatures make him stop after trekking for a few minutes as he opens the bag up and pulls out a heavy coat from within. He briefly wonders how this could be inside of it but figures that it is some kind of magic and continues to walk ahead. For what seems like hours, Winston eventually reaches the area that Padraig spoke of. A huge cave appears from out of nowhere which briefly concerns him. He goes inside and manages to find enough kindling in his bag to make a fire. He then makes a bed out of some fabric and goes to sleep for the night as the sun disappears behind the mountain that is just above the village in the distance. When he awakens the next morning, he is greeted by the small man he saw leave from back in the village. He is not wearing a top as his hairy muscular chest is just inches away from Winston’s face. The muscular man’s deep masculine voice stuns the much taller human as he sits up. “Good morning sir, I wondered if you might find this place. I am supposed to ask you a question which has two possible answers. Whichever answer you choose will decide what happens next.” He helps Winston up from the ground so he can look up at him as he talks. The man’s nicely groomed reddish brown beard and green eyes are not what he was expecting to see when he woke up for the day, but is pleasantly surprised. They take a few steps outside the cave and turn back around to look at it. Ioan proceeds to ask Winston the question. “Which one of your parents do you miss the most Winston? This question must be answered truthfully or your quest will end here.” Winston is stunned by the question right off the bat and puts his arms above his head. He had no idea that this would even come up and immediately looks down at Ioan. “WHAT!? What kind of question is that? What does this have to do with my wish at the fountain? Did Padraig tell you to ask me this question?” Ioan puts his hand out as Winston takes his hands off his head to hold the little man’s. He looks up at the human and has a relatively neutral look on his face. “This is just part of the process Winston and I am sorry. I was summoned to be your guide and I have been put in charge of the questions that have to be asked. This actually does pertain to your wish indirectly and is meant to help you cope with what happened to you in the past.” After a moment of self-reflection, it dawns on Winston that he is going to be asked three questions that will pertain to his past, what is happening in the present, and what may or may not happen in the future to him. He grips Ioan’s hand as hard as the little man is now gripping his. “I…..I can’t go back Ioan. They both meant so much to me. I mean…..why?” Ioan walks forward, still holding Winston’s hand, and pulls him further into the cave with him. After taking about fifty steps down into the dark corridor, it changes into two emergency room doors. They stop just a few feet in front of them as Ioan looks up to talk to Winston again. “This is where you must answer the question Winston. Your parents are both here. Talk to them face-to-face one last time. This will help you move on since this has been lurking in your mind for a great deal of time. I will wait in the lobby for when you return so that we can move on to the next question. You will be fine mate, I promise.” Ioan lets go of Winston’s hand as they enter into the waiting area of the hospital. The little hairy muscleman stands there as numerous medical personnel move around him not noticing either one of them are even there. The scared taller young man tries not to lose his composure as he takes a deep breath and walks down the hospital corridor towards one of the recovery rooms on the right. He stops walking when he glances inside one of the rooms and sees both his father and mother lying in beds side by side hooked up to machines. He slowly enters the room and walks between them to turn back and forth to look at them with heavy eyes. He can’t get any words out as he gets on his knees beside his mother to hold her hand and lightly weep. She moves her hand as she turns to look at him. “Winston…..I am so glad that you made it here. Ronnie and I didn’t know if you would get here in time or not…..I can’t seem to remember much…..I just wanted to let you know how much I love you and that I will always be in your heart. I also wanted to tell you that I am fine with who you are so don’t worry about it anymore, okay?” Winston tries to keep from crying but can’t hold back the tears that are welling up. They stream down his face as his mother begins to struggle with her breathing. Before he can say anything to her, she loses consciousness and flat lines. His father Ronnie starts to grunt behind him as he tries to get up to see if his wife is okay or not. Multiple nurses come flooding into the room as they try to restrain him as others try to revive her. Winston’s dad is finally put in restraints as the incredibly muscular middle-aged man winces feeling his body hurting from the catastrophic injuries he sustained in the car accident. The extremely sad young man quickly moves over to the other side of his father’s bed where there is no medical personnel and grasps his dad’s bloodied hand. He is amazed that he never noticed how powerful his dad was before as he looks at all the huge veins cascade from his forearms all the way up his arms and directly into his father’s head. Ronnie looks over at his son and is very distraught. He squeezes Winston’s hand tightly as he pulls him in to hug him. The stunned young man bawls as his dad holds him against his chest. After a few seconds, he lets go of Winston and the sad young man gets down on his knees again to talk to his father. Ronnie tenses his muscles a few times since the pain is so excruciating and looks at his son’s eyes before he speaks. “Look at you Win, you have really grown up since I last saw you. It seems like yesterday that you were just barely walking…..actually it has been that long hasn’t it?” Ronnie pauses for a few moments before he reaches over to grab Winston’s arm to squeeze it. “I am a bit surprised though that you haven’t started growing muscles like your old man here. I want you to be big and strong so you can handle things in case you need to protect yourself or possibly the love of your life perhaps.” He tenses his chest and arms again to show Winston that he stayed in shape all the way up to the accident. He then smiles at him before he speaks again. “I may not have ever heard that you were gay son, but just know that I am okay with it. I’m not sure how your mother would feel about it, but I love you more than you will ever know.” He puts his arms out again to embrace his son and pulls him in to hold him one last time. The power radiating from him dissipates as Winston feels his dad fading away as the machines beep before he flat lines as well. The nurses that were trying to revive his mother move over to Ronnie and begin doing CPR on him as they push Winston out of the way. The young man falls onto the ground and yells in agony as he witnesses both of his parents die in front of him. After a few seconds he feels a small hand move up against his shoulder. He looks up and sees that it is Ioan who joins him on the floor to comfort him. “I didn’t say it would be easy mate, but you were here to see them one last time. I know it hurts a lot, but this will help you heal. *gets up and reaches his hand out to pull Winston up off the ground* Come on, it is time to move on to the next question. We will have to leave this place first though.” Winston stops sobbing and leaves the room only to turn back around to look in at them one last time. Ioan grasps his hand and starts pulling him away towards the front of the ER lobby. They walk through the doors as it vanishes behind them. The young man turns and is stunned by what just happened. Ioan takes him back to where he was staying at in the cave and has him sit down. “Rest for a few minutes Winston and eat something. This was a difficult situation I know. Think on it if you need to and I will return to go to the next question.” Winston spends a few minutes sitting there before he gets up to find Ioan standing just outside the cave. The little muscleman is quite surprised that he is already there. “Wow, are you sure you want to move on so quickly. This next question is going to be a bit tough as well. Why do you think your boyfriend left you? This question must be answered with a truthful answer or your quest ends here.” Winston thinks that he knows the answer to this question but before he says a word, Ioan shakes his head no. “Hold on Winston. I don’t think that you were told the whole story from Pierre. It is time to go back into the cave again and find out what the answer is okay?” The two men walk back in and proceed down the cave corridor again. They stop moving forward when a balcony appears in front of them with a beautiful lake in the background. There are numerous boats on the lake and it appears that there is some party going on. Winston seems a bit confused by the whole scenario before he hears Pierre’s voice off to the side. It sounds like he is moaning quite loudly and is having sex with someone. He then hears multiple voices and rushes onto the balcony before going into a side door into what he thinks is a beach house. Ioan stands outside and looks on as Winston finds Pierre sandwiched between three heavily muscled men. His ex-boyfriend is being fucked by one of them as the two others take turns fucking his mouth with their huge rods. None of them are Gustav though since Winston would recognize him immediately. His blood pressure rises as he confronts his ex. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PIERRE!? You told me you were with Gustav, why would you lie to me?” Pierre immediately shoves the guy that is inside him off and jumps to his feet. He is completely soaked in sweat as he tries to compose himself. The three muscle monsters begin to move towards Winston, but Pierre tells them to stop. “Oh mon gawd mon ami! What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you to show up so soon after we broke up. Gustav? Uhhh…..well I was going to go see him after taking a few days off, you know? *seems really confused* Uhhhh, how did you find this place? I don’t think we ever came here when we were dating did we?” The three musclemen move down to the lake and find an open area to lie on the ground. Pierre notices that they are going there without him as he tries to move past Winston. The angry American grabs his French lover on the arm and grips it tightly. “I want answers Pierre, what are you doing with these guys? Were you doing this shit when we were together?” The athletic Frenchman pauses for a few seconds and sighs. “Winston, I have needs. I need to satisfy these needs by going all in with it. Originally, it was just one, but it has grown quite a bit since then and now I have three awesome sluts that make me feel alive. *pulls Winston’s hand off his arm* Maintenant, si vous pouvez me excuser mon ami, I need to go join my friends so we can finish what we started when you got here.” The nude Frenchman rushes out the side door and down to the lakeshore as the three huge hulks begin to mess around with each other again. Winston walks out slowly and looks over the balcony as he watches his ex-boyfriend get ravaged by each one of them as he yells in ecstasy feeling his body getting thrashed by each one of them. Ioan climbs up onto the bannister of the balcony and sits beside where Winston has decided to wait for him. The irritated human looks over and shakes his head. “How the hell did I not know about this Ioan? This isn’t the guy I knew. He never once let on that he was into this kind of thing.” Ioan reaches over and pats him on the back. “Mate, these kinds of things happen more than you realize. What he is doing with those men right now is a fantasy for quite a few muscle lovers. Of course, not every man is as reckless as he is.” The little man points down at the orgy as Pierre yells in French as one of the men pumps him full of cum. The two others pump their cocks as the Frenchman licks the precum off both of them. They both grunt as they shoot two massive rivers of cum all over his face and chest. He takes turns gobbling down the huge poles as they continue to spurt into his mouth. His appetite for their muscular bodies is so great that he makes himself cum without ever touching his cock. The volcano splashes all over his chest and legs as one of the men grabs a hold of his rod and grips it tightly. When he lets go, his cock continues to shoot huge ropes all over himself. At this point, Winston is quite disgusted and gets down off the bannister and turns to leave. Ioan follows behind as they walk back through the cave as the beach house disappears behind them. The young man sits down again and puts his head in his hands. Ioan stands above him to speak. “That was supposed to be tough mate. This was meant to show you that he is not who you thought he was.” “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Our last conversation was about me being muscular. He said I wasn’t his type. Do you know if he is really dating Gustav or not?” Ioan grins and shakes his head yes. Winston is stunned that he is actually with him and wonders if he should ever tell him about Pierre’s secret. The little man doesn’t offer much of an answer to that thought. “When you are ready Winston, we can move on to the last question.” The story will conclude next week. Check out a previous installment in this series: Rainbow: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/2429-the-little-man-and-the-rainbow/
  16. Chapter One "Oh, you were able to come!" As Roger gave Henry the biggest hug ever recorded in history, his friend gasped "I'm not the Ultimate Musketeer" and as Roger let go he chuckled "Although I could be if you wanted me to!" "We'll save that for the masses!" smiled Roger and with that opened the doors to the SUV and as Henry and Roger piled in all the materials they would need for the Olympia, they jumped in and pointed in the direction of Las Vegas and said in unison "Olympia, HO!" and with that Roger gunned the engine and they were off *** "Your destination is 809 miles away" announced the sat nav as they left Fort Collins "and will take eleven hours and thirty five minutes!" "Wow!" exclaimed Henry, "you do realise that's the same as travelling from where I live to Aberdeen and about two thirds of the way back again. You were right when you said that America was a large country!" "A large country" smiled Roger, "with large men heading to a contest with even larger men!" and with that they both laughed before Roger said "So, how was the flight?" "Flight?" asked Henry, "what flight?" "The flight from the UK to here!" replied Roger "Really?" asked Henry raising an eyebrow, "why on earth would I want to waste money on a flight?" "You never!" gasped Roger to which Henry replied with a chuckle "I did" and with that stated his journey. "I left my home at midnight today" he started, "remembering of course that I'm seven hours ahead of you. I had my luggage with me and so wheeled it down to the beach where I live. Then, and considering it was now a quarter past midnight, I went to the beach hut I have and there I..." "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "you did, didn't you?" "...became the Ultimate Musketeer!" added Henry and as he did Roger roared "Oh, fuck, yeah. Go on, tell me what you did!" "Well, after wrapping the luggage onto my back, I dived into the Irish Sea and headed due south west until I got to the Azores a little after three in the morning my time!" "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "how fast were you going?" "I'm not sure, but give me a moment" and as he consulted his tablet he replied "About three times faster than an aeroplane, but then I always like to go full throttle when I start!" "And then where?" moaned Roger "Well, I took a right hand turn and headed towards the United States. I think I arrived in, oh, now what was it called?" and with that he looked at the map and said "Ah, yes, here we are, Beverly Beach in Maryland, and that was just about sunrise" "You swum the Atlantic in a little over twelve hours?" gasped Roger "Give or take, yes!" "Oh man, your heart must have been pumping!" "Two hundred and forty beats per minute" said Henry, "about the same as a brisk jog. And from there I ran all the way here" "How long?" moaned Roger, "or should I stop the car now and cum?" "Let's see" came the reply, "I arrived in Maryland at around seven in the morning eastern, so that's five in the morning mountain, we'd agreed to pick me up from the airport at eleven mountain so five hours!" As Roger moaned, he pulled the car over and started scrabbling for something. Pulling out what looked like a drinks bottle, he pulled out his eleven inch cock, thrust it into the bottle and moaned "Speed?" "Three hundred and thirty nine miles per hour" came the reply, "a little under half the speed of sound!" "OOOOOOHHHHHH, FFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!" screamed Roger as he came into the bottle and as he orgasmed panted, "Tell Adam, the next time he visits, take the aeroplane. I don't think I'll be able to stand too many of his go it alone journeys!" "Hear that, Adam" said Henry tapping his head, "on the return journey we book a plane" to which Adam grumped in reply "That's not fair, you know I wanted to swim through the Panama Canal!"
  17. The Introduction Nathan needed to get up for the day, but was already 30 minutes behind when he looked over at his bedside table as the alarm keeps ringing incessantly. The job he accepted just a few weeks before was very important to him but it also required him to travel all over the country for different contracts. He sells experimental drugs to medical research companies that have locations throughout the US. As he races out his apartment door, he manages to get into a taxi and arrives at the airport just barely on time. He had to skip shaving and grabbed a protein bar on his way there at a convenience store. Normally, Nathan works out when he is not on business trips which usually happens about twice a week. He wished that he had time to get a chest workout in but had to skip the gym this time because it was considered top priority. He boards the plane as soon as he gets there and tries not to get too mad at himself since it seemed like time was going too fast. He lands in Washington State a few hours later in a place he has never been to before. The address he was given by his supervisor was located about two blocks from the airport which seemed rather odd to him for some reason. He noticed where the facility was when he got into the taxi at the airport. He thought maybe he could have walked there, but he would have had to go to the hotel first anyway. He quickly dropped off his luggage there, changed into his nice work clothes, and grabbed his briefcase which contains the drugs he plans on selling to his client. He arrives at the facility and is immediately met by two very large men who recognize the briefcase he is carrying. He is directed into a lab area where a technician awaits. The tech takes the case from him and places it on one of the metal tables they are working at. They open it up and start examining the contents of the drug vials. The tech then motions for the two large men to grab Nathan by the arms and place him into a chair located behind the door to the lab. Nathan tries to fight to get away from them but is unsuccessful as the tech fills a syringe full of the drug and plunges it into his neck. He can feel it moving through his body as he begins to convulse violently. He can feel his body warming up quite rapidly and can’t control what is starting to happen to him. The two men holding him down can feel Nathan’s body reacting to the serum as both look up at the tech and look quite fearful. The tech smiles at them before racing out of the room with the briefcase in their possession. The veins in Nathan’s arms start to grow as well as the muscles just beneath them. His eyes turn almost entirely white as he watches his forearms swelling and lifting both of the big guys’ hands off his arms and the chair. He can hear the sounds of seams being stretched to their limits as the fabric strains under the weight of his swelling mounds of flesh. Both men press down harder on Nathan as their muscles bulge through their tight shirts. He feels his abs starting to press through his tight shirt as his pecs push the fabric even tighter as they attempt to free themselves. His anguish is becoming clear as the pain cascades through his body. His legs are swelling to the point that his trousers are now making loud creaking sounds. He screams in pain as his voice gets much deeper. He can feel his neck muscles swelling as they push themselves outward from the general area of his neck. The veins in his arms protrude as his biceps and triceps rip through the fabric in his shirt as the seams on his jacket slowly split open. His shirt underneath his jacket loses its battle and shreds open revealing his wide chest as his pec shelf continues to spread. His abs split a few times before thickening up into a bloated eight back. He can feel his trousers splitting open now as his quads spill out the sides and continue growing. His calves rip the lower half of his pants completely open. He involuntarily flexes his lats which push up against the chair as the entire back of his jacket rips off of him. It is impossible now for the big men to hold him down as he pushes them off of him and goes rushing out the lab door and bursts through the front lobby door into the street. He is now only wear his boxers which struggle to contain the immense package and huge bubble butt which hugs his backside. He is dazed and confused as he looks down at his body with bewilderment. Did these drugs do this to him? He was in decent shape to begin with, but his new size makes him feel so different. He wonders if this is permanent or temporary. He races down the street, gets into the hotel he is staying at, and races past the lobby and into his room. He gazes into the mirror in front of his bed and stares at his body while rubbing it down with his hands. He likes what he sees, but is still uncomfortable with this foreign substance swimming around inside him. He begins to think about the company he works for and wonders what exactly they needed him for in the first place. He has never actually met anyone from the company and is beginning to think that they set him up for whatever experiment this is. The Drug Company A company executive walks into the boardroom and hands the CEO a document. The CEO smiles and immediately tells the executive to leave the room. He pushes a button and a screen pops up from behind a wall across the room. When a connection is made, a man shows up on the screen and says to the CEO, ‘I suppose we have a match now otherwise you would not have contacted me right?’ The CEO grins and says, ‘the experiment is indeed a success and we will pick him up as soon as possible.’ His smile is unusual because he has two very long fangs that stretch down from the top of his mouth while there are two other smaller ones that on the bottom canines. The other man exclaims, ‘you have done well Domino, the royal clan will be pleased to see if this one will progress beyond the ones we already have.’ The connection is then ended and the screen disappears behind the wall once again. The CEO stands up and walks over to a corner window behind him. He looks up at the sky and looks directly at the full moon in between the stars. He knows that it is just a matter of time before he gets close to another howling cycle. Before he decides to just let it take him over, he hears a familiar voice getting closer to him. ‘Sir? I’m not interrupting you am I?’ Domino turns around to see who exactly is trying to get his attention. He seems a bit out of sorts, but knows that he can’t hold back what is going to happen to him. The other man comes up behind him and starts rubbing the thick brown fur on the CEO’s face. The well-dressed man feels himself calming down a bit from the light petting he is receiving. ‘Mmmm Valentin, I am glad you are here baby. I was about to let him take over when you came in. I know how much you revel in my wilder side.’ ‘Indeed sir. It amazes me how you can control him. I know you feel so good inside me when you become him.’ Valentin stops rubbing his face so Domino can return to focusing on his transformation. A couple of pops resonate from the man’s body as his lover runs his hands up and down the man’s shirt feeling his body starting to heat up. A few growls rumbling from the CEO’s throat as he feels the beast being summoned from within. ‘Val…..baby, it always makes me nervous when we do this. I really have to concentrate like hell to control him you know. He just wants to rip you to shreds most of the time, well….. until I am inside you.’ ‘I know sir, I can’t help myself though. *starts pulling his pants down and takes his shirt off* I love the beast as much as I love you Domino. He remembers who I am now so I am not worried about it anymore.’ The CEO’s body shakes wildly as he feels the body hair thickening up on his skin. The sweat cascades down his body as his legs begin cracking, making him fall to the ground. Valentin moves back a bit to watch his lover go through his metamorphosis. Domino agonizes as he feels his legs reforming as his feet lose their shape with his emerging paws and claws. The dress shoes he is wearing fall apart as thicker striated muscles start growing up along his hairy paws and hind legs. Val strokes his cock seeing the CEO’s legs swelling and stretching his pants to their limits before blasting through the seams revealing massively muscled furry quads that have retained a humanlike appearance. The changes are moving into Domino’s crotch making him groan deeply as he feels his cock transforming. A jet of blood goes flying into the air from below his tailbone as a tail emerges from his lower back. His ass bursts through the back of his pants before it is completely enveloped in a thick forest of fur. His anus pulses rapidly which draws Valentin straight to it. He knows the risks but doesn’t care as he gets down on his knees and plunges his tongue directly inside the swollen hole. The emerging wolf immediately tries to reach around to grab him but misses. Valentin jumps back and yells in fright for a few seconds. The wolfy side of Domino is taking over now as his chest and arms stretch his shirt to its limits. His back cracks multiple times as it appears his back is growing longer than before. His cock has grown a huge sheath over top of the human cock he still possesses. Val moans seeing it drool pre down Domino’s bloated wolfy legs. The loud growls from him would normally serve as a warning, but the love struck human wants him so badly that he is willing to take the risk once again. Finally, the CEO’s shirt rips in half as the heavily muscled wolfman’s chest appears. His arms pulse with newly grown muscle as his face struggles to maintain its shape. A few cracks are heard from within his skull as a muzzle forms while two ears emerge from his head. Several pools of blood form beside him as his human face falls off revealing the wolf that was hidden inside. He growls at Valentin and shows him his newly formed claws and paws on what were Domino’s hands. ‘Domino…..I love you sir. I trust you won’t kill me, I want to make love to you like we always do.’ He slowly walks back over to the brown wolf and gets down in front of the wolf’s sheath. He lightly rubs it’s thickly muscled legs which makes the animal growl and shutter at the same time. Valentin starts tonguing the sheath and shoves it down inside rolling it around and lapping up the pre its cock is dumping. The animal growls lightly and starts to moan as its cock begins to grow. Val feels it swelling as it pushes its way out of the sheath. He licks its sides making the animal grunt loudly. It shoots several jets of precum in the air which hits his human lover on the back. Valentin then gulps as much of the wolf cock down as he can and slowly sucks it feeling it thrusting inside his throat. The animal howls in lust as it grabs a hold of his legs with its powerful arms and runs its huge tongue up and down his hamstrings. The surprised human has never had this happen with him before as he moans loudly. The wolf’s tongue finds his ass and goes slithering inside his eager hole making Valentin submit to him immediately. ‘OH MY GAWD! Mmmm sir…..fuck yeah find my prostate please…..*feels its tongue searching for it and hitting just the right spot*……OH FUCK! OH FUCK! I AM GOING TO EXPLODE!’ The wolf remembers where his prostate is and slowly massages it over and over with its tongue. Valentin feels it swelling each time the wolf licks it as his body violently shakes and his balls and cock turn a dark purple. The wolf senses that he is about to erupt and tries to grab his cock with one of its paws. Valentin screams as he feels the massive flood racing through his prostate and into his cock. The wolf stops licking his insides and pulls his tongue out of his ass to flip him over. He shoves Valentin’s cock into his muzzle to drain him. He finally unloads down the wolf’s throat and tries not to panic as the animal has a tight grip on him. ‘Domino…..please don’t bite it off sir. I really want to keep it because it makes us both happy, don’t you think?’ The animal gulps a few times before running its tongue along Valentin’s cockhead to lap up what is remaining. The human sighs as he finishes cumming and hears to wolf growl before letting him go. The wolf’s cock is now fully erect and ready to blow as Valentin starts stroking it vigorously. The animal thrusts each time he does this as the pre gets a bit thicker. The eager human licks a bit of it and moans as he swallows the sticky spunk it drops while he massages its big hairy balls. ‘MMMMM feed me sir, I do love the taste of your cum.’ The animal howls as it tenses its powerful muscular body before it finally erupts. Valentin senses this and locks his lips on top of the engorged cockhead. He chokes as the huge volume of wolf seed goes barreling down his throat, face, and chest. Not wavering, he continues to suck on the thick tool making the animal howl again as it continues to shoot thick ropes of cum over and over again. It reaches down and grabs Val by the legs once again. He knows that the wolf is about to pound him into oblivion as he releases his mouth from the leaking pole and feels himself being pushed down on top of it. The animal holds him in place and starts fucking him rapidly while growling as it sits its muzzle up against his back. It runs its tongue up and down it before teasing his human lover by running its claws down the front of his chest making him shiver feeling them lightly rip the skin. He doesn’t feel very much pain though which makes him wonder what is happening. Tiny beads of blood start slowly trickling down his chest. ‘Please don’t Domino…..you are starting to make me wonder what your intentions are with me.’ Val can feel the animal’s cock swelling up inside him as it growls louder against him. It squeezes its powerful muscles around him as it howls deeply emptying its seed inside his human lover. The sensation sends Valentin into another realm as he moans lying up against the horny animal. Once Domino finishes cumming, he starts to revert back to his original form. Valentin feels his lover’s body cracking and reforming against him as he looks down and sees each claw break off as the bones and skin change back to their original shape. The muzzle that was leaning against his back breaks off and lands beside him which makes him cringe a bit. He feels Domino’s cock shrinking inside him as well. He reaches around and caresses his lover’s chest feeling the tacky skin as it continues to drip sweat heavily covering what appears to be a much bigger torso than he had before. Domino’s face has returned to normal as his eyes remain closed and he has a lot of thick facial hair now. Valentin pulls his lover’s cock out and turns around to check on him. He kisses him on the lips as the weakened man opens his eyes. His brown eyes immediately lock onto Val’s green ones and he squeezes him tightly. At this point, the werewolf is nearly done reverting back inside Domino. The remnants of the wolf lay all around them which sort of disgusts Valentin. ‘Yuck! I still can’t get past all of the dead stuff that comes off you Domino.’ Domino smiles and looks down at his body and notices something different. His muscles are considerably larger this time and he is much hairier. He bounces his pecs and tenses his arms making the veins stand out. Valentin moans grabbing both biceps and runs his tongue on both of his hairy pecs. The big hairy stud growls and picks his lover up to slide his cock back inside Valentin. The small assistant stops moving to speak. ‘Oh damn sir, is this such a good idea? You won’t change back again will you?’ ‘I promise baby, he got what he wanted I think. I don’t feel him trying to come out anymore, besides I think I have finally been able to keep some of his more alluring attributes. I am so much bigger now and my balls feel like they are going to constantly fill up. *notices a few scratches on Valentin’s chest* OH NO! He scratched you! Are you going to be okay baby?’ ‘I will be fine sir. He has pumped a lot of cum inside me before as well. I seem to be immune to his virus as you have called it before.’ Domino reaches down to lock his lips on Val’s and starts to fuck him slowly and lovingly. The full moon starts to dissipate behind the clouds as the two lovers continue to have sex with each other. It is not known exactly why Valentin has not changed into a wolf himself, perhaps he also has a secret that he hasn’t revealed to anyone yet. After having a night of letting the wolf roam free, Domino meets up with the board of directors for a late meeting to announce the unveiling of the new experimental drug that they have been developing for several months. The briefcase that was previously in possession of Nathan has now ended up in the hands of the CEO. He opens the briefcase to show off the four remaining vials of the drug to the executives. He proceeds to take out another vial and asks for a volunteer. When no one raises their hand, he turns to his assistant Carlos who is standing off to the side and motions for him to come and stand in front of him. Carlos immediately recognizes what he is intending and wants no part of this. He tries desperately to leave but is unsuccessful when he is led back into the room by company security. Domino laughs a bit when he sees this happening before he starts talking again. ‘My assistant is just a bit shy. He will enjoy this more than he realizes, he just doesn’t know it yet.’ Domino plunges the syringe into Carlos’ neck and pumps him full of the clear fluid. It isn’t long before Carlos feels the effects and starts to change physically. His chest expands rapidly as it makes tons of popping and cracking sounds. His arms stretch his olive-colored skin to its limits as the veins instantly grow into garden hoses. His shoulders and back muscles shred his shirt instantly as his legs completely bust through his pants without a second thought. The pain is extremely excruciating for him which makes the board talk amongst themselves as they watch his extreme growth cycle. It just stops short of being too much for his boxers to handle as he nearly loses consciousness from the ordeal. ‘This is our breakthrough ladies and gentlemen,’ Domino tells the board. ‘We have the power to turn ordinary men into supermen like him if we continue to develop this serum.’ He turns to motion for security to come back over once again and has Carlos led into the next room before he is taken to the top floor for further evaluation. The board stands from their seats and begins applauding for several minutes. Domino waits until they finish before he provides them with the information they need to continue the research. The drug is approved shortly thereafter for continuation and will be distributed among their lab facilities before they are finally ready to be sent to the FDA for approval. End of Part 1
  18. Part 1 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7100-the-lycanthrope-genome-part-1-of-2/ Meanwhile…..Back in Washington State After calming down from what happened back in the lab, Nathan decides to go lie down for a bit in hopes of waking up and discovering that it was all just a dream. When he reawakens a few hours later, he immediately notices that he is back to his original size. He gets up from the bed and goes to check his phone which is sitting beside his suitcase by one of the closets. He notices that his husband has been trying to reach him for hours, which concerns him greatly. Roman is a man that Nathan met in Europe on one of his company excursions. It was not a business trip either. Roman is an incredibly gorgeous Italian man that caught the eye of Nathan almost immediately. His thick muscular hairy body was on display on one of the private beaches in Naples and Nathan couldn’t keep his eyes off of him the whole time he was there. They started chatting with each other mainly because of their attraction to each other, but after an incredible night of tremendous sex, they never left each other’s side after that. They married after two months of dating when the gorgeous man moved to the States to be with him. Now Roman does the same kind of traveling that Nathan does. The concerned man decides to call Roman back on his phone. ‘Roman, something has happened to me I think, I mean…..I think something has happened…..I don’t know if it was a dream or not……but I feel somewhat different.’ ‘Slow down Nate and tell me exactly what you think has happened to you. I want to know everything okay?’ ‘Well, I think I have been injected with some dangerous substance and I am afraid of what is going to happen to me now. I look normal now, but I fear I will have another episode soon.’ Roman pauses for a few seconds and speaks again. ‘Hmmm, I think I need to come see you then Nate. I think I can make you feel better if I come and help you out with this.’ They make a little small talk before the conversation ends. Nathan thinks about what he just told him and is thoroughly confused now as to how Roman could be so close to where he is staying. After about two hours, Nathan hears a knock on his hotel room door. He goes to open the door and is alarmed to see his husband standing in the doorway. Roman walks in and looks quite calm. He looks around the room for a few minutes before taking his jacket and shoes off and sits down. He motions for Nathan to come sit by him since he looks extremely distraught. ‘What is wrong with you Nate? I rushed over here since I was close to calm you down. So…..what were you saying on the phone about someone injecting you with something?’ Nathan stares at him with a bit of concern and wonders why he is even in Washington. ‘What are you doing here Roman? Why didn’t you tell me that you were in the state? You made it sound like you were further away.’ ‘You know I can’t tell you about my trips that much Nate. The company would punish me otherwise. Just tell about what you were talking about earlier.’ Nathan shows him several scars from his ordeal earlier in the day. Roman groans a few times and goes back over to the bed to sit down before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He begins dialing a phone number as Nathan walks towards him. Roman puts his hand out and tells him to stop moving. He then says to walk into the bathroom and close the door and that everything will be alright. When he does, Roman grabs a few chairs in the room and pushes them up against the door. It seems as if he is trying to barricade him in which immediately gets a rise out of the confused man. Nathan starts to yell at him in anger since he realizes that something is definitely wrong and tries to knock the door down. Roman continues to tell him to relax and not to over exert himself because he doesn’t want him to do something rash. Unfortunately though, he can’t calm down now as he feels something building up inside his body. He falls down onto the bathroom floor and crawls over into the shower before ripping his shirt open exposing his hard body. His chest heaves up and down as that weird feeling continues to intensify. It isn’t long after that that he starts to convulse uncontrollably as his muscles begin growing. His arms develop giant veins once again as he looks down and sees his legs getting thicker as huge vein branches stretch all the way down his quads and into his lower leg area. He presses himself up against the shower walls and feels the tiles cracking under his weight as his body continues to grow. His swelling pecs reach his chin as he gets down on all fours. The pain increases exponentially as he feels his skin shredding as blood sprays all over the shower floor and walls. Thick mounds of fur spring up all over his body as the skin continues to rip and fall off. His legs and arms break next as he screams in agony. They grow longer and curve slightly as they begin to resemble canine legs. He feels his nails ripping out as claws force their way out of his hands. His mind races wildly now as his eyes reshape and his sight changes. He feels his face cracking and popping as a muzzle begins growing pushing his mouth forward as his teeth break off and fangs form inside his new face. His ears fall off as two new ears grow out the sides of his wolf head. He feels the wolf’s tail explode out from under his tailbone and above his new muscled ass. Amazingly, his mind remains the same even though it feels like he is in a dream state. He tries to move forward on his new legs and makes it out of the shower. The huge mounds of skin, blood, and flesh barely register with the confused wolf as he tries to scratch at the bathroom door. He just so happens to look over to the side and sees a mirror. He tilts his wolf head a few times before growling at his reflection and breaks the mirror to pieces. Roman stops talking on his phone and realizes that his fears have come true. He nervously says, ‘Nate, are you okay man?’ before his husband comes flying through the bathroom door and out into the bedroom. Roman yells into the phone that it has happened and drops it on the ground as the voice on the other end laughs in a very gravelly tone. From the other end of the conversation, a hand with sharp claws lightly clicks the end button on his cell phone and puts it down on his desk. He gets up and walks over to a side door before letting out a slight growl. His shirt is stretched to its limits as he opens the door to go inside. The sound of his shirt ripping makes him grunt as a tiny pool of blood drips down his chest as a thick mound of hair follows as it covers his bloated pectorals. Another man is inside and smiles at him before telling the wolfman to come closer to him. He stops walking towards the man to stand in front of him and sits in the chair beside him at the meeting table. His jeans are straining now as he continues to change slowly. They finally give way as more blood hits the floor as a large forest of hair appears on his massively grown legs. The other man puts his hand out and grabs him on his thickly muscled arm which makes the wolfman growl under his breath. His growth cycle stops midway as the other man locks lips on the transforming pup as he tears off ripped shirt and pets his thick brown forest. The pup moans deeply as his master pulls his split jeans off to reveal his hairy wet brown cock which is throbbing wildly. His body is still somewhat in human form as his master rubs his big hands up and down his thick bulbous ab muscles and broad arms. He then leans down to slide his pup’s thick cock into his mouth as he slowly sucks on the hard pole. He howls softly and deeply as his master picks up speed on him. Before long, he squirts several jets of precum down inside his master’s throat and digs his long claws into him. His master immediately looks up at him with his newly revealed green wolf eyes as he begins changing himself. His suit begins to shred as his body convulses and his muscles expand at an alarmingly fast rate. His skin tears open rapidly as blood flies everywhere in the room. His reddish wolf hair shines in the lights once all of the fabric, skin, and blood lands on the floor. He concentrates all of his energy now on staying in his humanoid form so he can continue to service his sexy pup. After a few minutes of scratching and clawing at each other, the two wolfmen take turns shooting their huge loads inside each other as well as coating their thick fur with their seed before jumping to their feet to move over to the nearby couch. Still in their current hairy forms, they start talking to each other in loving ways. ‘I think our experiment worked master, he has successfully changed into the beast without much effort.’ ‘I know. It seems like both of my experiments have been successful. You now seem to be quite comfortable in your new skin Carlos.’ ‘Well, I was scared at first Domino, but I feel so invigorated now that it has taken up residence inside me.’ ‘Excellent. Next time, we will go all the way won’t we? Why don’t you let me service that beautiful brown rod of yours again my hunky Spanish wolf?’ Carlos grunts loudly as he digs his claws into his muscled superior. ‘Mmmmm, that sounds great to me master. My balls are already full again.’ The two werewolves have sex again as the moon makes another appearance in the starlit sky behind them. The Bulgarians Georgi finished the assignment that was given to him by his superiors as he walked slowly back to his desk on the ground floor of the drug facility. His clan leader Petr walks by him as he watches the big man dragging his feet back to his area. He notices how much the man is sweating and tries to cheer him up. ‘You did what you needed to do little pup,’ the beefy man says to Georgi before he pats him on his head. ‘I am quite proud of you for keeping your composure through the whole ordeal Georgi. The elders sometimes can be really hard on the younger ones especially when you are given crazy assignments like this one was. You will be rewarded handsomely though for your efforts, I promise.’ Petr turns back around and closes the door to his office behind him to go sit down to prop his large shoes up on his desk. He unbuttons the white shirt he is wearing and unveils his impressive hairy chest that barely conceals the well-built frame he has. He immediately takes the shirt off, unlocks the top drawer in the desk with a key in his pants pocket, and opens it. Inside is a syringe that is filled with a dark liquid. The clan leader has a mirror located directly in front of him he generally likes to look into to check out all of the curves of his upper body as well as the extremely thick Bulgarian’s beard that he keeps well-trimmed. He takes the cap off the syringe and holds it up to squirt a few beads out. He watches himself in the mirror and lets out a small grunt before plunging the syringe into his heart and pushing the plunger all the way down. The liquid shoots directly into his heart which causes him to drop the syringe within seconds of using it. He immediately feels the effects of it as his eyes turn a deep brown from where they were hazel before. Georgi hears the commotion from his work area and rushes into the room to see what is happening. ‘Охх дяволите .....LOCK THE DOOR PUP! IIIIII……NEEEEDDDD TO RELIEVE SOME TENSION…..’ Petr says to him with a great deal of nervousness. Georgi looks directly into his clan leader’s big brown eyes and knows what is going to happen next. He is conflicted as to what he should do next, but decides that he will stay with Petr even though he knows that he will be coaxed into the same ordeal that his leader decided to start on his own. Georgi could have definitely left him alone, but he fell in love with him a long time ago and stays with him when he decides he needs to let his inhibitions go. Petr is trying to pull his pants off his lower body but is unable to because his muscles are growing too rapidly. Georgi tries to help him out, but his master pushes him away so he doesn’t end up getting hurt too badly. His pants finally shred under the weight of his massive hairy tree trunks and he is completely naked within seconds as his dress shoes go flying off his expanding feet. His growth is feeding his massive lust now as his back stretches to accommodate the extra size he is gaining. Within just seconds, he is over 7 feet tall and is nearly eclipsing 400 pounds. Georgi notices the syringe he used laying on the ground so he rushes over to pick it up. The liquid he injected into himself this time is not the typical one that he has used in the past. This one apparently intensifies the dark half of the wolf that is within him and makes it more powerful than ever. The hair on Petr’s body is thicker and is spreading all over him as his legs and arms crack forcing him to the floor as they become engorged with unreal power and resemble wolf legs. His fangs are more pronounced than they were before and his face is now being formed into a snout. He is developing huge claws as they tear their way out of his fingers and toes. He flares his immense chest out to show how powerful he is as he glares directly at Georgi. His back pops hundreds of times as it reforms. His snout quickly changes into a full blown muzzle as he grows new ears and a new mouth full of thick jagged teeth. Georgi’s fears are realized as his master’s hold on him is forcing him to transform as well. ‘NO! PLEASE MASTER, NOT THIS TIME. I’M NOT READY FOR THIS…..Охх глупости .....’ The unwilling younger Bulgarian feels his clothes getting tighter as he feels his body changing. His legs quickly split the seams on his pants as his big beefy arms rip completely through his tight shirt. His transformation is being accelerated by the hulking wolf that is now just a few feet away from him. He doesn’t stand a chance as he changes into a wolf before his muscles ever reach their fullest potential. His body hair destroys his clothing as he gets on all fours. His eyes change color from a soft brown to a deep green as he grunts feeling the wolf take him completely over. Petr pounces on him as they roll around the room destroying everything in their path. They finally break through a nearby glass window and go running down the streets hungry for something that can quench their thirsts. End of Part 2 I may eventually come back to this series in the future.
  19. Chapter 1 James didn’t have much going for him. He wasn’t large. He wasn’t small. He wasn’t even ugly. He was alright looking by most accounts; he just didn’t really stand out. It worked all right in high school since he could slink into the crowd and avoid bullies, but back there he had had all his old friends. His relative anonymity was getting to be tiresome now that he was in a new city and a new school. He had been so looking forward to college because he had heard about all the great parties that he could go to, but having gone to a few already, he could safely say they weren’t any better than the ones back in high school. He spent the entire time with his back to the wall and a red solo cup in one hand. James let out a sigh as he trudged into his last class of the day. It wasn’t even a real class; it was just a TA session. Every Wednesday night, his physics class had an extra hour long session tacked onto his already tedious schedule. The only plus side was that the nerdy grad student who instructed the class during this period was hella cute. The black haired guy was a little on the chubby side, but he carried his weight well. His small, round, thin, gold rimmed glasses gave him an endearingly goofy look like something out of a children’s fantasy novel. Even the guy’s name was cute. When James had seen the name “Mathis” on his syllable he had expected some dour old geezer or some Axe’d up dudebro. He was very pleasantly surprised when the cuddly looking grad student had shown up and insisted they all refer to him by his first name, Donnel. James threw his book bag under one of the desks and gave a nod of recognition to the dude seated two seats down. This was the closest thing he had to a friend this early into his new school life. With any luck, by midterms they would even know each other’s names. James whipped out his smart phone and began flipping through his various apps. An errant porn gif crossed his dash which caused him to hastily turn off the screen. The last thing he needed was one of the other students to catch him staring at big, floppy, dongs in the middle of class. He took a quick glance around to be sure no one had seen him; he seemed to be in the clear. He let out a sigh, and waited for his dick to decide to forget what he had seen. His own respectable cock was refusing to obey and steadily chubbing in his loose cargo shorts. James could do nothing but slump back into his chair and wait. He might not have much going for him, but what he did have was an overactive imagination. His mind was still replaying that pixelized cock bobbing and flopping in rhythm with the deep thrusts that the dude was receiving from behind. James stared into the blank screen of his phone. He was too afraid to turn it back on for fear of someone catching sight of the gif that was most assuredly still playing on his dash. All he could do until the TA decided to show up was stare at his own reflection in the black screen. The college student staring back at him looked just as skittish as he felt. The thin, face was covered in freckles, mostly clustered along his cheekbones. The tussled mop of light, reddish brown hair looked like something from the Beatle’s early career. He wasn’t particularly fond of the Beatle’s or their hairstyles, but he had been too broke to get a haircut and too lazy to touch a brush in months. The lean student absentmindedly twirled the phone in one hand as he watched the second hand tick away on the old and busted little wall clock that had probably been mounted on that same wall since the physics building had been christened in 1973. Eventually, the cute, chubby grad student staggered into the classroom, huffing slightly as he struggled for breath. “Alright class… Get your books out… we’re going to review for your first exam.” Donnel rattled on between gasps for breath. It was obvious that he had been running to get there. A slight layer of sweat had soaked into his shirt causing it to cling to his skin. It wasn’t the first time Donnel had shown up to class slightly late and even more out of breath. Apparently he had one of his graduate level classes all the way across campus that let out immediately before the class he was scheduled to teach. It was no doubt a serious inconvenience, but James couldn’t help but wonder if the chubby guy had lost a few pounds over the last few weeks. James was sure he could see a little definition showing through the TA’s clinging shirt. James never really had trouble in physics. He could memorize formulas and laws and theories really easily. At this rate this class was going to be ridiculously boring for him. Sure enough, his mind began to wander within the first five minutes of their review. His mind always wandered in this class, but he never got called out on it. His eyes were glued to the cute TA the whole time. He was sure that Donnel had lost a little weight in the past few weeks. James couldn’t help but think how much better the guy was looking now. James mind began to drift farther and farther. Donnel was cute now, sure, but he’d be frickin' hot with a bit of beef on him. James’s mind drifted to thoughts of the chubby instructor filling out his green and white plaid button up shirt with brawn instead of pudge. James could actually see that dude’s shirt fit him snugger as his flabby little moobs gave way to thick slabs of brawn. As the teacher’s shirt got tighter and tighter, the ripples of his toned, beefy abs began to show through the front of the fabric. The grad student’s chest got wider and thicker as his pecs and lats grew and spread. The TA’s now huge muscles pressed against his shirt on all sides causing the fabric to pull away down the center. Large gaps could be seen up and down the front of his shirt as the buttons struggled in vain to bring to two halves of clothing together, and still the TA kept swelling. The buttons eventually gave up the ghost and began to burst free at mach speeds. The miniature projectiles ricocheted off of desks and walls, but no one in the class seemed to notice. The TA’s shirt sleeves ripped loudly as his huge, muscular arms got to be simply too much for them to handle James was actually a little startled by the noise, but it alerted him to all the growth going on in other areas as well. He could see now that it was not just the cute teacher’s chest that had been beefing up, but the rest of him as well. The seams of the TA’s tight jeans were already showing signs of popping and snapping. It was obvious that his thick, brawny quads were going to overpower the tight denim at any second. James’s eyes focuses on the cute guy’s pants as he waited with bated breath for those to follow his shirts example. As James eyed the teacher’s lower half he became aware of the pronounced bulge in the front of the guy’s jeans. James had to silently give his subconscious a mental high five for thinking about that too. It was only fitting that such a massive, burly stud of a man have a cock to match. James couldn’t wait for the beast to burst free of its cruel captivity. Something that great deserved to be seen by all. The lanky student bit his lower lip as he stared at the lewd sight before him. He wanted to rub one out so bad, but he dared not do so in the middle of class. There was no telling just how much of his actions would be visible in the real world. He might find that he would be beating off in the dream and also in front of the actual teacher. With an audible shred, the teacher’s jeans burst into ribbons, leaving him completely nude except for a skin tight pair of grey boxer briefs. The briefs did absolutely nothing to disguise the magnitude of the TA’s cock. It was thicker around than James’ skinny arm and well over a foot long. The thing had to be closing in on two feet. It was impossible to tell for sure due to the way it bunched and folded in the confines of the teacher’s way too tiny undies. James’s jaw dropped. That thing was that huge and still soft! The massive dick was accompanied by two equally massive, cantaloupe sized nuts. It was a miracle that the immense package was still contained within the thin layer of fabric. “Not for long.” James thought to himself with a smirk. This dream was too good to stop now. He was going to go for the Full Monty. The TA had another surge of growth, but still no one except for James seemed to notice. The last vestiges of the guy’s clothing broke away, leaving the now towering wall of toned beef completely nude. His huge, nude TA still paced and spoke confidently as he rattled on about gravity and inertia and friction and wind resistance, but James couldn’t care less about that shit. The TA’s cock was so huge that the head of it grazed the ground as he walked. The shaft was as thick around as James’s lean waist. The two enormous nuts were now the size of jumbo beach party beach balls. His broad chest was almost three times as wide as James’s shoulders. Either individual massive pec was easily the size of James’s Torso. James could curl up like a cat and nap on that broad, burly chest of he wanted to, and he really wanted to. James was so entranced by that fantastic brawn that he just had to get up and get close to that. He had to feel those glorious muscles against his flesh. He wanted to rub his tongue against that colossal dick. James smirked as he noticed the steady chubbing of the teacher’s cock. The gigantic schlong steadily hardened and lifted itself up and up. James couldn’t have peeled his eyes away if he wanted to. He couldn’t be sure, but it was almost as if the giant dick was reacting to his thoughts. James shrugged and rolled with it. This was his dream after all. He began imagining even more lurid acts he would do if he ever got the chance. He wanted to straddle that giant cock like a roadhouse mechanical bull and ride it as it bucked and lurched. He would latch his arms and legs across it and rub his tongue along every inch that was available to him. The TA’s giant cock was already oozing pre and shuddering in response to James’s imagined touches. James wanted all the cum that was contained in those massive, heavy nuts all over him. He was just about to hop up from his seat and begin attending to Donnel’s amazing, growing, dream cock, but the teacher seemed to be one step ahead of him. Donnel set down his text book and went about pacing around the room while absentmindedly stroking his colossal dong. James’s eyes followed him intently as did the eyes of most everyone in the class. James couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else was part of his dream. All eyes seemed intently glued to the now beefy instructor and his massive, oozing cock. Quite a few students had a pink tinge of arousal visible on their faces. James could even catch sight of a few boners pressing against the fronts of some of the guy’s pants. One or two of the braver ones even had a hand down the front of their pants shamelessly stroking their hard-on. He quickly dismissed the idea. If anyone else could see this, surely they would have freaked out by now. James shoved his doubts and inhibitions aside and slowly walked up to the TA. No words were exchanged, but the look of sheer, unadulterated lust in James’s warm brown eyes made it absolutely clear what he wanted. He stood in front of the massive, muscular dude and began to stroke and lick the enormous cock. James dug his own respectable bulge against the soft underbelly of the massive cock and began to grind passionately. He was so overcome by the sheer magnitude of the cute young teacher that he forgot everything else. The thick, veiny cock pulsed and shuddered against his face and chest. James knew it was only a matter of moments before it blew. Seconds later, James was knocked to his feet by a surge of jizz from the monstrous cock. The spooge was so warm and thick that it was like being bathed in tar, but it smelled and tasted so wonderful that James didn’t mind at all. The thick, goopy spunk soaked his clothes and clung to his lightly tanned skin, and yet more and more kept flooding from the TA’s immense nuts. By the time the torrent of spooge had tapered off, James was so coated that his own load was completely lost in the giant tidal wave of spunk from the teacher. James could do nothing by lie in the giant puddle of spooge that now covered the entire front of the classroom. “Oh! I’m terribly sorry. I don’t know what came over me!” Donnel sputtered in shock. James chuckled silently to himself; he knew exactly what just came over him. The huge, brawny guy slowly reached a hand down to help up his jizz soaked student. James reached up and accepted the teacher’s help. James was feeling so great from the intensity of his own climax that he was only vaguely aware of how sticky his skin was now. His gut felt pretty heavy too. There was no telling how much of the salty spooge he had guzzled in his erotic trance. James’s eyes slowly scanned the classroom. All eyes were on him now. The other students looked at him with a look of awe, shock, and even some jealousy. As the afterglow slowly began to fade, James was snapped out of his trance by a loud, rattling ring from the bell. He nearly jumped from the shock. He came crashing back to reality. He suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed. All the other students were gathering their books and packing their bags, barely paying attention to him, but one or two would occasionally glance his way. Something just seemed off. He was sure he had woken up from his dream, but he was still coated in spunk. A firm hand on his shoulder brought his attention back to the cute guy. James looked up to see that same cute face looking down on him, although the face had noticeably trimmed down since the beginning of class. No surprise there, considering the TA no longer had an ounce of fat on his. He was now a huge, hulking muscle god with a four foot cock. “Again, terribly sorry about the mess… You know how it is with guys like me… Sometimes we just can’t help it.” Donnel said apologetically. “Although… Given the lengths you went to to get me off, I suppose I can’t really take all the blame.” He added with a sly wink. James was dumbfounded. He could no longer tell the difference between his dream and reality. Just how much of what he had dreamt had he really done? Had he really transformed the cute, portly grad student into that massive, nude wall of brawn and balls? The real question was could he do it again if he wanted to? A devious smile crept across his jizz-coated lips. This was going to be an interesting semester after all.
  20. Part One Roger Dixon was a stud! It was almost as if he only had to step onto a bodybuilding stage and the world just caved into him. He won every single class he entered be it his local contest, the statewide contest, a regional contest, a national contest, a continent contest or even the day he was crowned Mr. Universe in his class, indeed that day he really let them know what he was packing. He stood up to his maximum height and brought the house down, showing off every sinew of his proportionate 266lb mass. His proportionate 53 inch chest, with his proportionate 2½ inch long nipples just oozed mascunlinity and when coupled with a proportionate 27 inch waist his proportionate eight pack was a thing of wonder to behold. His proportionate 22 inch guns, with veins streaking along them, were unmissable, his proportionate 28 inch quads glistened under the lights, his proportionate 23 inch calves and his proportionate 22 inch thick neck ensured that he won the best poser class as well and was even brought out to pose against the overall winner. But that was all in the past. It was his own desire that was his undoing. First, when at a photoshoot he attempted a 300lb bench much more than he could actually manage to show off his power and tore both his pecs and then the real trouble came when he was caught in a media sting operation and outed. He had always been gay, he loved the attention of people drooling over his muscles, his cock a proportionate 9 inch monster when hard was his pride and joy, no one had complained when photos showing his bulge on stage flooded the magazines but as soon as he was outed, he was dropped faster than you could say "One Hit Wonder". Even now, twenty years after last stepping on stage, he still looked after himself but knew that standing just a mere five foot two tall, weighing 146lbs though still as lean as anything, his 42½ inch chest, 32 inch waist, 14½ inch biceps, 22½ inch quads and 15 inch calves would never cut the mustard against the modern stars of the stage. Even the people in his grand master classes were bigger than he was and as he watched the recording of the last show he had streamed, he traced the buldging pecs of Mr. Grand Master Colorado 2015, a man aged as the same as Roger, 65, yet so muscular Roger wanted to wrap his arms about him and pummel him into submission. But Roger now happy living at his home in Fort Collins, Colorado where he spent most of his days on online forums discussing bodybuilding history and reading stories about the most powerful men ever to exist on the face of the planet had his dreams and would regularly wake up, covered with a thick layer of cum having read stories, both real and fan made, of Hercules lifting an entire cliff face, He-Man wrestling a clone of himself, Milos of Croton splitting a tree apart with his bare hands and his personal favourite, the final act of that Titan, Porthos, holding up a cave to allow his friend to escape. Whenever he read that story, his dreams were always the same. He would rescue that man, take him to his own personal gym where people could train in the nude, and work that man until he begged for mercy, then ram him until he screamed for mercy and then, torture him with high voltage until he caved in and panted "I submit" and allow him and Roger to swap bodies so that Roger could experience the power of the Titan for himself. This interest in the Titan of old eventually developed into an interest in Renn Faires and it wasn't long before Roger, dressed as the Titan himself, was a regular feature and made sure that his body was the centre of attention as demonstrated just the previous week when, whilst holding a talk on the strength of heroes, and deadlifting two hundred pounds for the whole talk, a Spartan came up, grabbed hold of his biceps and squeezed them saying "Arms, that would defy Hercules in their strength" It was after a Renn Faire, where having been a member for a decade the organisers presented him with a leather bound copy of all of the tales of the Musketeers, that Roger found himself in a unique position. He'd been reading another one of Porthos's feats of strength and as per usual was getting very excited about it. “This group was superintended by the man whom D'Artagnan had already remarked, and who appeared to be the engineer-in-chief. A plan was lying open before him upon a large stone forming a table, and at some paces from him a crane was in action. This engineer, who by his evident importance first attracted the attention of D'Artagnan, wore a justaucorps, which, from its sumptuousness, was scarcely in harmony with the work he was employed in, that rather necessitated the costume of a master-mason than of a noble. He was a man of immense stature and great square shoulders, and wore a hat covered with feathers. He gesticulated in the most majestic manner, and appeared, for D'Artagnan only saw his back, to be scolding the workmen for their idleness and want of strength” “Oh, yeah” moaned Roger, “I think I know where this is headed” and with that started to rub his cock in anticipation. “D'Artagnan continued to draw nearer. At that moment, the man with the feathers ceased to gesticulate, and, with his hands placed upon his knees, was following, half-bent, the effort of six workmen to raise a block of hewn stone to the top of a piece of timber destined to support that stone, so that the cord of the crane might be passed under it. The six men, all on one side of the stone, united their efforts to raise it to eight or ten inches from the ground, sweating and blowing, whilst a seventh got ready for when there should be daylight enough beneath it to slide in the roller that was to support it. But the stone had already twice escaped from their hands before gaining a sufficient height for the roller to be introduced. There can be no doubt that every time the stone escaped them, they bounded quickly backwards, to keep their feet from being crushed by the refalling stone. Every time, the stone, abandoned by them, sunk deeper into the damp earth, which rendered the operation more and more difficult. A third effort was followed by no better success, but with progressive discouragement. And yet, when the six men were bent towards the stone, the man with the feathers had himself, with a powerful voice, given the word of command, "Ferme!" which regulates maneuvers of strength. Then he drew himself up” “Yeah” moaned Roger, the rubbing becoming faster making his cock longer, harder and redder , “You show them, Porthos” “The workmen, as commanded by the engineer, drew back with their ears down, and shaking their heads, except for the one who held the plank, who prepared to perform the office” “Oh, fuck” Roger moaned, as his hips started to buck and he could feel himself getting even more aroused “The man with the feathers went up to the stone, stooped, slipped his hands under the face lying upon the ground, stiffened his Herculean muscles, and without a strain, with a slow motion, like that of a machine, lifted the end of the rock a foot from the ground” “Yeah” he moaned again, “show them pure muscle!” “The workman who held the plank profited by the space thus given him, and slipped the roller under the stone. "That's the way," said the giant, not letting the rock fall again, but placing it upon its support” “YEAH!” roared Roger, “SHOW THEM ALL WHAT IT MEANS TO BE PORTHOS” and with that he came so violently that in combination with the long day and the orgasm that followed, Roger started to fall asleep and dropped the book to the ground moaning “Oh, Porthos, I wish I could meet you one day!” and with that slipped into sleep, his cock spurting cum as he did so. This will be a very long story (but I cannot say how many parts it will be). I know from experience how boring that long a story can be so therefore I would like members to help liven it up with their artistic skills be it people like @powerbeats illustrating the sheer effort needed to perform a feat of near superhuman strength, people like @leogrando showing how big people are, or even @darkluster4 showing what happens later on when Roger experiences the full force of the Titan. Therefore I am giving every single illustrator carte blanche to draw what they like when they like
  21. 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 brick-building housing the sixth-form school, 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 dust-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 to 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 begun 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, shelves 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 began 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 third 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 Lutheran 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 Mum in the 1960’s, and she enthusiastically invited friends and relatives to annual crayfish-parties and fermented-herring-dinners when summer turned into autumn. 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 Peter lived in a council flat from the late 1950s), 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/
  22. I want to thank muscledrain, who suggested the theme and general outline of this story, and Gunshotuk, who friendly assisted with proofreading. I added these links, by editing my original post. Chapter one is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7118-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-one/ Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7140-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-two/?hl=magic With a little help from magic Chapter Three A few weeks earlier, it had been completely dark at the hour when the students arrived for the first lesson, but now rose-tinted clouds and an icy blue sky sleepily floated over the brick building, although the sun itself hadn’t reached above the roofs of the neighbouring buildings. The snow-ploughs had left high snow-drifts against the surrounding walls. The outdoors temperature had dropped to minus twenty Centigrades, and the breath of the students formed clouds of visible vapour in the air. One of the bus lines was at a standstill, due to the icy cover on one of the steepest roads in the city, and this had caused a late arrival of some students. Aram was irritated. With no bus, he had been late, and got on a later tram departure than usual. The situation had affected many students from the same parts of the city, and he wasn’t entirely alone in the corridors, although most of the students already sat in their lecture rooms. He put his jacket and his training bag in his locker, and grabbed his biology book. ’Oi Swotter!’, shouted the too familiar voice of Anderson. Aram sighed. Here we go again. The angry faces were there as usual, shouting things as usual, with one minor divergence: Peter wasn’t there. Slowly, a hunch began to emerge, but Aram wasn’t given the time to finish his thought. Anderson was there, wrestled Aram quickly, until he lay on the floor, getting salt stains on his clothes. Anderson shouting things about going back to his own country. ’You know that I was born here, don’t you?’, Aram asked. The scent of Anderson’s leather jacket. The scent of a cheap cologne and adolescent sweat. The scent of Anderson’s bad breath: Probably a yoghurt breakfast. The scents which could have been perfectly neutral, or even the scents of friendship, but now, since several years, the scents of humiliation. Anderson’s football scarf dangling in Aram’s face. Shouting. Spittle. Something about Arabs. ’And no. I’m not Arab either. My ancestors lived in Syria, Turkey and Iraq long before the Arabs.’ Anderson’s hand around Aram’s Adam’s apple. It was useless to resist: The footballer who dabbled at the gym was significantly stronger and heavier than Aram. Anderson’s bodyweight disappeared. At first, Aram was too dizzy to register what had happened, but, when he composed himself, he could watch Anderson in a knuckle fight with Peter. The other members of Anderson’s little crew standing passively, not knowing what to do. Aram adjusted his eyeglasses and his tie, quickly remembering how he had suffered from myopia since primary school, and how John had not. ’What are you doing, fatso? We are mates, aren’t we?’, Anderson tried to convince Peter. ’I’m tired of you Anderson. I’m tired of being the fatso. I’m tired of being your excuse for this. I thought that I was the leader of our gang, and then I realized, that I have been your puppet all the time. Always blame the fatso. Always nagging about how I was dismissed from the hockey team!’ ’But you were dismissed from the hockey team, fatso. You didn’t have what it takes. You realize that, huh? I remained in the football team because Coach saw my qualities. But why do you defend the little Prof? Have you become an Arab lover all of a sudden?’ Peter was over Anderson in a second. He must have left all self-control, and punched on the leaner rocker uncontrollably, using his weight to his advantage. But Anderson was faster, and used that to snake himself out of Peter’s grip and range. The three other rockers froze from their disbelief and hesitation, and surrounded Peter. ’Fatso! Fatso! Fatso!’ ’Frigging bloody wanker. Now I have a blood stain on my new plaid shirt. You will pay for this! What is it? Don’t want to be reminded of what a bad hockey player you are? A failure! A loser! And you were never a real rocker either! Couldn't afford a real jacket? Couldn’t afford a second hand car? Letting others pay for your beer and hot dogs on the motor festivals? Do you think I’m scared of you?’ The last sentence wasn’t delivered convincingly. Peter stared Anderson in his eyes. The small hesitation was all Peter needed. He pulled himself free. Neither Anderson, nor Peter, saw what happened next, but Aram saw it. John and Carl arrived. Both were of course taller than any of the young men, but Carl probably wasn’t in much better shape than Anderson, and considerably more light-weight than Peter. John, on the other side, towered over the group, his escalating results on the gym progressing almost visibly each day. It was probably the bad weather that had caused Carl to wear army cargotrousers instead of his favourite bleacherjeans, but, unlike John’s city camo, Carls trousers followed the greenish colour scheme for forests. The bulky and glossy bomber jackets enhanced their size, one black and one metallic blue. The military origin of two of their garments, was contrasted by the stylish details of others: Carl’s favourite maroon polo, his blue braces and blue shoe laces. John had shaved his braided ’Vikings’ hairdo off, and Aram noticed a black and yellow-striped polo shirt and thin, black braces, that John hadn’t worn before. Had he joined the SHARPs? Yes he had: Aram could see a new embrodiered patch on John’s jacket. Anderson’s followers looked at the two skinheads for a second, and left the place. Anderson became aware of Carl and John, and lit up. ’Oi fellas! He is all yours. Now he even attacks friends, not to mention poor Prof over there.’ It was Carl who answered. ’Don’t try to fast talk out of this. We heard before we saw. Get out of my way if you don’t want any more thrashing.’ Anderson was silent when he left the lockers. * * * Grumblingly, Carl had accepted that Peter followed them to the gym. ’What I can't understand, is that you have the patience to have him around you. If I had been you, I had wanted to punch his face in.’ Aram didn't know exactly what to say. Nor did John. Remembering two versions of reality gave you perspectives on things that could have been, but Carl wouldn’t believe them if they tried to tell him, and it was probably best a guarded secret. Carl wiped his boots with a wet napkin, in order to remove salt stains. ’You ought to wipe your boots too, John. Salt damages the leather terribly.’ Peter arrived into the locker room, and they changed the subject. * * * John and Carl were on their way home from a concert in another city. They had gone with two of Carl’s old friends, one of whom owned a car. The concert had been fantastic: Some of the song texts about injustice in society, some song texts about football or loyalty to your neighbourhood. Stirring refrains. Many in the audience sang along in the the refrains. John surrounded by friends, with Carl at his side. Sturdy Carl. Good Carl. John had never seen so many skins at the same place at the same time: Short, tall, some in their 60’s, some in the same age as John, and every age between. Some, going for a more old-fashioned take on the style, wore lambskin jackets of a sort that had been popular among skins in the early 1970’s, and not a few, coming from the southern parts, wore crombie coats (although they had bitterly found out that, up here, crombies better had to wait until spring arrived). Bearing in mind the outdoors temperature, it wasn’t strange that most of them wore bomber jackets: black, blue, green or burgundy. In the middle of the concert, John had a short vision of individuality blurring, and his consciousness floating in an atmosphere of affinity, belonging, and joy. John and Carl now shared the back seat of the car, while their friend in the front seat tried to keep the driver awake by talking to him. Loud music played in the car, something by Rancid, John thought. The wintery landscape passed by in the night, swiftly illuminated by the headlights, and then, as swiftly, left behind in the winter night’s darkness. Snow on spruces. Snow on firs. Snow. A road sign, warning for elks. Snow. A small village with a petrol station, street lamps illuminating the back seat for a few seconds, and then winter forest again. Darkness. Snow. He removed the hockey scarf from his neck. It was hot enough inside the car. Carl fell asleep shortly after they left the concert, resting his head against John’s shoulder. While awake, Carl was always so assertive, so confident. When he was asleep, his face looked different: Relaxed, innocent. During the journey he had slid, and his head now rested against John’s side. John had protectively laid his arm around Carl’s shoulders, feeling the silky but synthetic surface of Carl’s jacket. Suddenly, John became aware of, that Carl’s hand, which had rested against John’s trousers, had moved to touch John’s crotch through the fabric of the camo trousers. John hadn’t thought about it, but his tool was hard by being so close to his best friend, if that word was enough to describe his feelings. In his sleep, Carl began to clench John’s dick through the fabric. Clenched. And relaxed. Clenched. And relaxed. John tried to wake Carl up. Carl would be terrified if he had known what he did. John didn’t want to catch the attention from the guys in the front seat: They would tease Carl for weeks, if they knew. Clenched. And relaxed. ’Carl, wake up. Wake up.’, John whispered, and shook him carefully. ’Wake…’ The clenching felt good. Carl had cupped his hand over John’s dickhead. Carl didn’t awake, in spite of Johns silent attempts to wake him. Clenched. And relaxed. They passed by another village. Street lamps revealed a smile on Carl’s face, the blond stubble on his hair glistening like gold in the electric light. And then the car rushed into the night again. A pleasant darkness. Clenched. And relaxed. John’s bloodstream was filled with warm honey, running slowly and exquisitely through his system. Clenched. And relaxed. His dick felt like steel now. Clenched. The warm presence of Carl so close to him. Silky but synthetic. And camo. And relaxed. Reliable. Tough. Kind. Clenched. Loyal and masculine. And relaxed. His invincible friend. Doing this. Clenched. And relaxed. A mist of dark red pleasure floated inside his eyes. Floated. Slowly and exquisitely. Mist. Of a thundercloud. Rushing. Through him. Through his muscles. Feeling big. Hard. Best friend. Thunderbolt. Mist. Rushing. Through him. Smile. Stubble. Close. Thunderbolt mist. Rushing. Now – pure pleasure. It wasn’t aware of it’s existence now. It was. Only. The. Pleasure. Only. The. Pleasure. Only. The. Only. Only. Only. Onl… Clenched. * * * Carl and John had had their ’little chat’ with Peter a few days before, Carl hesitatingly, and John well aware of what Aram and himself had agreed upon. If reality could change, persons could too. Carl had probably been a little bit too harsh, but John had focussed on reason: A few years after arrival, refugees pays tax. Financial argument against refugee policy are therefore without foundation. Freedom of religion is something good: Would you like to be forced to practice something against your will, yourself? No? Then don’t do it to anyone else. Food? Is it really a good idea to decide what anyone else would eat? Do you really like fermented herring yourself? No? You hate the stench? So do I. Why would you then like to dictate that anyone else’s dinner tables should be stuck in the 1890’s or 1920’s? Only upper class eating sushi? I wouldn’t call my cousin upper class: She assists elderly people in their homes. Do you eat pizza? Yes? You know that pizza isn’t indigenous food in Northern Europe, eh? Want to retain a good system of social security? But why then argue for a right wing party? You know that they side with the big companies against workers’ rights, don’t you? Not a commie bastard? If you don’t like the bunch of people Carl hang around with, it’s fine, though they are not exactly commies either. Make up your own mind. There are more answers to these things than two. There are a lot of political parties in the centre, if you prefer that. Most of them are in favour of a well-functioning social security. Your grandfather vote Labour? Then I suggest that you have a chat with your grandfather about this. Wouldn’t that be a good idea? Thought so. Peter looked tired after the conversation. Carl and John had seen smugness or angry sullenness before, but the present sad expression on Peter’s face had none of them seen, and there was something puppy-like about his eyes. Carl handed him a low-carb soda. Peter and his mother lived in a flat consisting of three rooms, all of them considerably smaller than what Carl and John were used to in the younger and recently renovated part of the area. Old-fashioned containers for salt, sugar, meal and oats hung under the dressers, and John noticed to his surprise that the flat lacked a dishwasher. Although cigarette-smoking was falling out of fashion, it was obvious that Peter’s absent Mum was a smoker, which was a pity, since the living room with the old TV could have been quite nice otherwise, with an old fashioned parquet floor and shelves with framed photographs of relatives. Unlike Carl, Peter didn’t have a TV in his bedroom. It didn’t take too long to convince Peter that some of his former views were wrong, although some of the changes probably didn’t go more than skin deep, initially. He had proved that he was able to take sides with Aram, and he was childishly enthusiastic about being instructed by John at the gym. Carl had sadistically ripped away the Confederate flag from Peter’s denim jacket, and the rectangular spot didn’t look impressive, but the weather forced Peter too wear a warmer (rather humdrum) jacket anyhow. The temperature outdoors was burning cold, and it hurt in their cheeks when they returned indoors. * * * Aram arrived late to the gym. ’Sorry. I had to spend some time with Emelie. She was upset. Did you see Emma’s bruise earlier today? No? Anderson had beat her yesterday, and Emelie tried to persuade Emma to leave him, but Emma is stubborn. What a nasty piece of work Anderson is: Disagreeable and nefarious!’ Peter looked on the floor, already dressed for workout, but in cheaper equipment than John and Carl. ’You are much better than me with words’, John said, froze, and stared at Aram silently. Aram stared back. ’Than I am’, Aram answered with some hesitation. ’What is it?’, asked Carl, but John and Aram changed subject. Fifteen minutes later, they stood at the cable stand. ’You have probably seen people train their pecs with cable handles up here, but if you lower these, your chest will actually have to work much harder to press the handles together, especially if you don’t bend your arms.’ ’Yes… Uh. Nrrrgh. Definitely much more resistance…’, Aram noticed, red in his face. ’Seven. Eight. Nine. Uh.’ ’But it doesn't feel like usual. I miss something.’, Carl remarked a minute later. ’The idea is’, John explained, ’to let this part work harder.’ John pressed his fingers on the insides of Carls now very hardworking pecs. He then put his fingers in Carl’s armpits, and nodded in the direction of the dumbbell press. ’These parts of the muscles will get their share of the workout in the next exercise over there.’ Carl shouted, and dropped the cable handles with a noise. ’I am ticklish. Never do that again’, Carl said, and disappeared towards the locker room. * * * The winter night shrouded the slopes and the flats in darkness, but the crusty snow on the lawns reflected the light from the street lamps and the moon. The caretakers had obviously spread another amount of salt during the preceding day, since the ice had melted on the pathway, and the moist asphalt surface peeked out from the surrounding snow, like a snake with black scales. Peter had left them in the older corner of the area as usual, and the other two had left Aram by the stairs to his family’s flat. Aram watched the white clouds of his own breath, watched the sky, noticed the upcoming conjunction between two planets he had read about in a scientific magazine, and went indoors, the bag on his shoulder. His mother was not at home: Probably giving an introductory language course to newly arrived Syrian refugees. His sister probably visited friends. He warmed some chicken in the oven and some lentils in the microwave oven, and ate absentmindedly in the kitchen, before returning to his room. He had just opened the computer file of a composition about mithocondriae, when something strange struck him. He felt dizzy and exhilarated. It felt like reality circled around him for a second, he felt a rush of information streaming inside his head, and he found himself in a state of analytical clarity beyond what he had longed for. He was sure he hadn’t understood all these mathematical proofs just a minute ago, but he could also remember how he gradually had achieved this insight for several years. He looked at the candle from Madame Cremorna’s. Burnt out and empty of wax since several weeks. He sat silent for a long time, trying to regain composure, went out to the kitchen for some tea. Holding the warm jug of tea between his hands, he took an educated guess about what probably had happened. It was probably a good idea to wait a few minutes before calling John on the phone. * * * ’Carl. There is something I want to talk to you about, but we haven’t had a good chance until now.’ They sat in John’s room. John sat on his adjustable chair. Carl sat on John’s bed. It was the sort of week when John’s mother worked night at the home for the aged, and John’s father was away playing floorball with workmates after work. ’Sure. Something political? Something about music?’ ’No. No, nothing like that. Eh. Uhm. Something strange happened when we were on our way home from that concert.’ ’Nothing I noticed. I slept all the way home. Didn’t wake up until the car stopped on the parking lot.’ ’You didn’t dream something strange?’ ’Can’t say that I did. Not something I remember anyway.’ John fell silent. Then he took the matchbox, and lit the novena candle in the window. It was Tuesday, after all. Within a minute the scent from the oil mixed with the candlewax was noticeable in the room. ’I want to tell you a secret. Aram bought that candle to me last autumn. You know: The church his family belongs to is into saints and things. The idea is that it will bring… Bring good luck, in a way.’ ’You know that I am as agnostic as you are. There is no way to prove the supernatural, neither a way to disprove it. It’s just meaningless. I’m not like the hardcore Atheists, ranting about sky fairies and spaghetti monsters, but whatever may or may not exist – if something supernatural exist, it will be so complicated that no human book would be able to describe that something, so I prefer to relax and not spend time on the subject. There’s a world out there to make better. I'm not a bloody hippie.’ John picked a book from his thinly populated bookshelf. He waved with it before Carl: Bodybuilding: A Handbook. ’May I discuss some of today’s exercises?’ ’Sure. Why not?’ John sat down beside Carl at the bed, and began to explain. He was probably ten minutes into the discussion, when he felt a strange heat inside. He rose and opened the window. ’What are you doing? It’s bloody cold outside. Don’t let that cold air inside.’ John closed the window again. The flame of the candle flickered. John could see that there wasn’t much candlewax left. He returned to the bed. ’I feel funny. Don’t you feel the heat?’ ’Heat? The windows’ got good insulation, and the radiators are working, but you can’t call this heat. What’s the matter? Do you feel ill?’ A worried expression John hadn’t seen before spread over Carl’s face. John reclined on the bed, with Carl sitting close to his knees. ’It feels better now. But it still feels funny. In a good way.’ A pleasant feeling filled his back, and continued to spread. ’Mmm. In a really good way.’ The feeling filled his traps, and continued to his pecs. ’Are you okey?’ ’Mmm. Oh. Umm. Yes, I’m okey. It…’ The feeling changed into a burning feeling in his abs, and he felt how a strange but pleasant feeling of hardness filled his shoulders and his quads. ’Oh. Carl. Do you see it, or is it just my imagination?’ ’See what?’ It now filled him entirely, from the stubble on his head to his fingers and toes. It was different from the subtle changes at the other times, it was… ’John. I can’t believe this. It looks like you are growing.’ John moaned, and then arched with a short scream. He tensed his biceps, and felt how he tensed his pecs. The fabric of his t-shirt couldn’t take the strain anymore. With a ripping sound, Johns growing biceps split the short sleeves of the shirt apart, while his growing shoulders and neck tore asunder the rest of the shirt. ’It’s bloody unbelievable, John. It’s like a frigging dream. Do you feel alright?’ ’So good… So good… Yes. Yes. It’s happening.’ The flame of the candle flickered, consumed the last remains of the oily wax, and went out with a silent puff. ’IT’S HAPPENING!!!’ John felt how his body convulsed in a pleasant way. ’Uhnnn. Uhnnn. Oh yes… Uhnnn. More!’ Carl was rigid with fear. And something else. Then, he reached out his hand towards John’s chest, and touched John’s growing left pec. With a sigh and a smile, John’s growing right arm grabbed Carl around his waist, and let Carl fall with his face on John’s pecs. A few seconds he struggled, and then relaxed. John could feel a kiss on his left pec. John let his left hand caress the stubble on the backside of Carl’s head. John could hear Carl mumble: ’I’m fucking dreaming. This is unreal.’ ’If it is a dream, you are free to do whatever you would like to do in a dream’, John answered, but whatever he had tried to say was abruptly cut off by another wave of growth. He moaned and groaned of pleasure. ’Oh, yeah. Grow for me mate. My best friend becoming a bruiser… Oh. This is so good. These mountains of power…’ Carl sat on John’s groin, touching John’s biceps with his hands. ’Oooh.’ Carl leaned forward and kissed John’s right bicep, and then licked it. ’Oooh. It’s still growing. You are still… Oh. This is so good.’ John felt how he became hard down there too. Carl must have noticed. He slide from the bed, removed his shirt and trousers, and then began to remove John’s trousers, but they were stuck on John’s large and still growing calves. ’Oooh. Uhn. Mmmm. Yes.’, John deliriously exclaimed. Carl gave up his attempt to remove John’s trousers, and directed his concentration on John’s shoulders, grabbing one with each hand, whimpering lustfully at the touch. ’Oh. My buddy, the warrior. My mate, the hero. My friend, the… the war god. This is so bloody good. So fucking unreal. So, ummm.’ John’s mobile phone rang, but they were both too excited to notice. Carl’s steel hard rod, although still decked by pants, had touched John’s bulging and steel hard abs, and he shivered at the sensation. Another lustful whimpering escaped his mouth. John could feel Carl rubbing his groin against John’s abs, and it felt good. He was able to drive his friend crazy of admiration. Another wave filled him. He bellowed, and distantly felt how his calves split the seams of his trousers, releasing him from any restraining clothes. His dick found its way between Carl’s thighs. Carl moaned. John looked up on Carl, smiled and tensed both his biceps. Carl held his breath, and something began to pulsate wildly inside Carl’s pants. Again. And again. And again. The last stages of John’s transformation were still going on, when Carl regained the similitude of awareness of his surroundings. Veins began to cover John’s chest, legs and biceps, and all muscles protruded well-defined in a manner suitable for the best junior bodybuilders. A blissful smile was upon John’s face, his eyes closed. He breathed quickly. Carl readjusted his position, and sat between John’s knees, grabbed John’s rod with his right hand, and pulled it a few times. It didn’t need much encouragement, until it ecstatically exploded in his grip, and pulsated in a powerful ultra-masculine way between his fingers and his palm. In a voice, deeper than before, John asked Carl: ’Why didn’t you tell me before?’ * * * Chapter Four is here, but doesn't contain any growth: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13032-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-four/
  23. Be sure to check out the first half here before you proceed: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7334-how-to-change-your-life-through-muscle-therapy-part-1-of-2/ Abel can see what kind of effect this is having on Melvin which makes the red-skinned therapist grin. Clyde turns around to look at Melvin which absolutely stuns the small college student when he sees how different his friend looks now. The formerly rail-thin 21 year old now has 24” guns, a huge set of beach ball-sized pillows with quarter-sized nipples dangling towards the floor, a perfectly-aligned rack of 8 abdominals, a swollen 10” pole with golf-balls hugging his ballsack, which leads down to two wonderfully vascular redwoods with the biggest calves Melvin has ever seen before. Clyde’s size 14 feet still sit on top of the remains of his sneakers he was wearing when he came in to the office. When he walked in the door, Clyde was clean-shaven but now he is sporting a nicely-groomed black beard. His perfectly defined face now sports a dimple in his chin as his bluish-green eyes sparkle. He smiles at Melvin as he bounces his pecs and biceps before slowly flexing them. His veins engorge with blood as his muscles rise into two huge melon-sized mounds. He moves his head to the side and motions for his good friend to come over and feel them. Melvin is a bit in shock though as Abel slowly walks over to him to put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. ‘Now you can see what I can do for both of you. Clyde was completely open to letting his inner beast out. Not everyone is the same I know, but I knew exactly how to bring him out. Why don’t you go over and take a look at him Melvin? He is still the same guy you have known for years. He is just fulfilling his destiny now.’ Abel nudges him a bit to make him move towards the big hunky man. Clyde is still flexing his huge guns as Melvin walks around the broken chair and behind the big stud’s back looking over his new muscles and making unusual gestures with his face. He looks over at the therapist and begins to put his hand out to touch his friend’s back. Abel shakes his head no and motions for him to keep his hands to himself. The extremely muscular 21-year old smiles at him as he comes back around to the front and shows off his perfectly aligned teeth. Melvin is quite attracted to him and moans loud enough to where the therapist can hear him. Abel walks over to him to stand by his side. ‘So…..Melvin are you convinced yet? Clyde is looking quite amazing isn’t he?’ Melvin is still shocked by what has happened. His close friend is physically powerful and incredibly attractive. He looks at the therapist to ask him a question. ‘He is still the same guy isn’t he? I haven’t heard him say a word yet.’ ‘Oh yes. I think he is just trying to enjoy the first few moments after being reborn basically. Why don’t you say something to him if you want to?’ The skinny 20-year old turns back around to face Clyde again as he looks him directly into his eyes. ‘Clyde? Please say something, I just want to know if you are still in there.’ ‘What are you getting on about Mel? *notices his deep baritone* WHOA! Oh my gawd, my voice is insane! *laughs as he stops flexing to relax his body* Yeah, I can’t believe that my personality is still the exact same. I was a bit scared at first because it felt like my head was being lifted off my body. Literally, I lost feeling on just about everything. After my head finished growing, it felt like I had just woken up from the most erotic dream I have ever had, except that it is totally real.’ The big stud turns to look at Abel. ‘Can I not touch Mel? I have noticed that he is not allowed to be in contact with me.’ Abel walks up to him and runs his red hands up and down his gigantic torso. Melvin makes a few noises that suggest he is thinking about something. ‘I can touch you Clyde because we are part of the same guild now. Melvin has not signed the contract yet so if he touched you, he would most likely die. The contract protects him from any kind of harm, of course he becomes part of the guild which means he would have to do things to maintain his look in the best interest of the guild. *turns to look at Melvin again* Okay, it is decision time Melvin.’ The nude red-skinned man walks back over to the desk and points at Clyde. He motions for him to stand over to the side so that he can have Melvin sit back down in his chair again. The half-aroused college student is still a bit unsure about the whole thing but sits back down in the other chair, the one he was sitting in before. Clyde stands about ten feet from the desk as he wipes streams of perspiration off his head, chest, and legs. He looks down and notices that his cock is dripping as well which sort of takes him off guard a little bit. Abel shakes his head. ‘Did you really expect that you wouldn’t be leaking Clyde? You wanted to be this way after all right? *looks for Melvin’s contract again and hands it to him with a pen* Okay, you have already read the terms correct? I just need you to sign your name Melvin. After that, you can touch your friend over here all you want. He really wants you I can tell.’ Melvin once again pauses to read the contract again just in case he missed something. Clyde looks at him with a confused look on his face as the skinny young man glances at him. He seems visibly upset and can’t seem to make a decision. Abel moves back over in front of the desk again and stands just far enough away to let Melvin take in his scent. The therapist looks him deep into his eyes and appears to be calming him down somehow. The young man’s breathing slows down a bit as well. ‘Just relax Melvin and do what is best for you. I sensed your apprehension even before you ever walked in here. Clyde is an open book and it shows since he freely allowed himself to change into the muscle stud he is now. You are having trouble keeping your eyes off him. Even now you are trying not to look at him because in your mind you have always wanted Clyde to become a muscle freak because he has always been your true love. By signing your name on that document, you can fulfill your destiny by joining him and becoming the strong, intelligent man that wants to be unleashed. You won’t regret it, trust me.’ Melvin puts his hands on his head for a few seconds before taking the pen in his left hand and signing his name to the line where his signature goes. He hands the folder and the pen back to Abel and stands up to pace back and forth for a few minutes. The therapist goes over to try and relax him once again by rubbing on the young man’s back. The college student calms down and turns to look at Abel and Clyde as the huge musclebound stud involuntarily flexes his immense arms, pecs, and legs to show his skinny friend what he could have if he would just let himself be free. ‘It still doesn’t feel right to me Abel. I signed the contract, but yet I am still so stressed out about this. Is that supposed to happen?’ ‘For you Melvin, it isn’t quite the same. You want to feel empowered both inside and out and that is fairly normal. Elliott was equally apprehensive himself about this and that was eased once he let his more dominant side take over. I don’t have the power to change you, you and Clyde do. *points at the giant musclehead across the room* It is all about the two of you now and where you will go next with this.’ The concerned 20-year old slowly walks over to his massive 21-year old friend and tries to keep his distance. Clyde puts his hands out to touch him but Melvin moves backwards. He stumbles and nearly hits his head on the desk behind him. Clyde tries to catch him but Abel motions for him to not help in any way. The stunned man nearly loses his glasses as they shift sideways on his head. He rearranges them again to face his well-muscled friend. He looks into his blue-green eyes and wants to move towards him to just touch his muscles but feels a twinge of stress once again. Abel walks over beside the two young men to speak. ‘I think you have pretty much figured out the catalyst Melvin. Your touch on his body is the trigger which is why your brain and stomach are reacting so much. The contract is signed now all you have to do is start the process. Clyde is desperately wanting you to do this, look down at his penis.’ Melvin notices his friend’s cock getting bigger as it attempts to touch his pants leg. He feels the heat against his thigh which ignites his own cock as it reacts as well. He moans lightly and loses his concentration just a bit as he feels a few drops running down his leg as Clyde’s cock does the same spilling precum close to the same area. He feels himself being drawn to his big friend now as he places both of his hands on Clyde’s mammoth pecs. The big man flexes them as they press into his fingers. He can feel vibrations flowing through them as the feeling runs up into his arms and throughout his body. He starts making strange noises as swelling and stretching sounds radiate from his hands and forearms. He can see the muscle fibers, tendons, and veins engorge as his loose plaid shirt gets a bit tighter on his upper body. Clyde grunts feeling his friend growing as he continues to pump his energy into him. Melvin’s feet are tearing through his sneakers and socks as his pants now cling to the growing beasts from beneath the surface. The small cock he was hiding before is stretching its way down his right leg against restraining fabric that is cutting off the circulation in his lower body. He moans loudly feeling his back doubling up on itself as his shirt pulls tightly against his widening lats and torso. The top two buttons on his plaid shirt fly into Clyde’s face as he laughs in his deep baritone. Two emerging pec pillows destroy the front of his shirt as they flop out exposing the top of his new six-pack. His massive new guns shred his shirt in half as two hose-sized veins lead up to his nearly soccer-ball sized shoulders as his shirt flies off his upper body revealing the rest of his thickly muscled torso. He lets go of Clyde’s chest to reach down to rip his pants off so his lower body can finish its dramatic transformation and finally breathe. His cock shoots a few strands of cum all over Clyde’s left leg as the big man lifts Melvin up into his arms to hug him and to press his 11-incher up against his friend’s monstrously thick glutes. He places one of his thick hands on Melvin’s head to feel him finish changing as his face slightly changes from its soft appearance to a firmer and manlier form. His glasses stretch to their limits as Clyde slowly pulls them off before they break in half. A forest of fur grows up from Melvin’s patch just above his cock all the way up to his neck. A reddish beard follows along the curves of his face as Clyde finally leans down to locks his lips on his good friend. He pushes himself inside Melvin as the 20-year old feels his virginity being eradicated as his body fully embraces Clyde’s cock moving completely inside him. The two huge studs moan loudly as they have sex for the first time in their new powerful forms and move their way over to the desk where Clyde lies down. Melvin remains on top of him and knows his role as the power bottom as he hops up and down on his incredibly hunky lover. Abel can see that they need their alone time and leaves to go back into the bathroom to leave the two huge studs alone to their devices. After a very trying beginning to the session, Clyde and Melvin are letting themselves go to embrace the desires that were deep down inside them all along. Before he can close the door to the bathroom though, Clyde yells for him to come back in. Abel peers around the corner to smile and shakes his right hand at him to show that he isn’t going to get involved in a threesome. The big top makes a few puppy sounds which get a laugh out of the red-skinned therapist but he reiterates that he can’t get involved in what they are doing. ‘While it is tempting Clyde, I can’t be part of what you two are doing right now. Maybe later when you get more acquainted with the guild we can arrange something together.’ Abel shuts the bathroom door as Clyde goes back to pounding his well-muscled friend into oblivion on the desk. Meet two other brothers in the Darkori family: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1803-the-hormone-treatment-part-1/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1818-the-hormone-treatment-part-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1825-the-hormone-treatment-part-3/
  24. ‘Where exactly did you hear about this guy Clyde? I don’t feel comfortable going to someone I have never met before in my life.’ ‘Don’t worry about it Melvin, I was reassured by Elliott that he was legit. I mean he used to be like us: small, feeble, and unable to defend himself against anybody. Now he is insanely big and looks absolutely gorgeous. Nobody picks on him anymore and a lot of the women are fawning over him. In fact, they have been fighting each other since they laid eyes on him.’ ‘Fine, but the instant I get a bad vibe there, I am out of that building.’ The two scrawny college-aged men arrive at the facility they were told about from their college friend and immediately begin to scope out the surroundings. ‘Are you kidding me Clyde? This place is on the outskirts of town in a scary neighborhood. Why the hell would he have an office here? I mean…..’ ‘Shut up Mel and just go inside the front door, okay. Remember you said you would give him a chance right?’ They both go in and notice that there is no receptionist, just a handful of chairs located on the left side of a door. They both look around and continue to banter back and forth about trivial stuff that really has very little to do with anything in particular. The side door opens and a well-dressed, red-skinned, black-bearded stud stands in the doorway. He grins at them before he speaks. ‘You must be Clyde and Melvin right? Yeah, your friend Elliott has told me about both of you. Why don’t you come in and have a chat with me?’ Clyde walks slowly into the next room while Melvin doesn’t budge. Clyde turns around and makes a mean face at him before cocking his head in the direction of the red-skinned man. Mel snarls and follows behind. They both take seats in front of a desk while the man goes to sit behind it. The room looks extremely clean with shelves of books just like you would find in a law firm. They both look at each other and their eyebrows rise. Clyde speaks. ‘So are you a lawyer or something? We were told that you did favors for people, it doesn’t seem like a lawyer would do this kind of work.’ The man chuckles a bit before looking in the nerdy man’s direction. His crystal blue eyes sparkle as he flexes his well-toned muscles on the table which bulge against the crisp white shirt and black tie he is wearing. Both of the young men swear that they heard a seam rip as he does this. The man sits back in his chair and undoes the first button to show off the thick black fur just beneath it. Clyde is mesmerized by the man’s skin color and is trying to figure out how he could look like that. ‘Uhhh…..I would like to ask you a personal question. How did……’ ‘I was born this way Clyde,’ the man interrupts before he even gets the words out. ‘I am actually from a family of four men with the exact same skin color. Two of my brothers are doctors, I am a therapist, and my other brother is a judge. We all try to make the world a better place of course, but it doesn’t come freely. Let me introduce myself, my name is Abel Darkori. I am a licensed medical therapist who turns people’s lives around. I like to think of myself as a fulfillment specialist. I help you reach your potential by unlocking it from your soul.’ ‘WHOA! Clyde I don’t like this one bit. I am leaving!’ Melvin proceeds to get up, but Clyde stops him. ‘SIT DOWN MEL! I came here to make a change and I intend on doing it as soon as possible. You and I both know we can’t go back to that school like this. Those assholes have put us in the hospital too many times. Let’s just hear what the man has to say before we make any rash decisions, okay?’ Melvin groans as he slouches in his chair and looks away from Abel. The well-built therapist gets up and walks behind them before putting his hairy red arms on the sides of the chair behind their heads. He tenses his forearms as they strain against his shirt. Clyde’s eyes lock on to them as he tries to control himself. He feels his crotch jump a few times before his face blushes. The therapist smiles before he speaks again. ‘It is okay to be skeptical Melvin. This is a decision you can’t take lightly. Your friend Elliott was equally concerned about being here. I’m not sure how long you have known him, but he did once look like you and also spoke of the hardships that you and Clyde are talking about. I am positive you will not feel the same way after you leave this place today guys.’ Abel takes his hands off both chairs and moves directly in front of the two young men. He sits on the front part of his desk and kicks his dress shoes off being letting out a big sigh. He turns to grab two folders and gives them to Clyde and Melvin. ‘Open these up guys and read the form inside carefully. Once you are done I want you to tell me exactly what you are thinking. This is entirely confidential and won’t leave this room.’ Clyde immediately skims over the information while Melvin sits there staring at the words and groaning. Abel can see that this will require a bit of effort to get the uninterested young man to cooperate. He turns his attention back to Clyde since he knows that he is having a lot more success with him. The therapist grabs two pens sitting beside him and hands them to both men. Clyde starts to put his signature on the line at the end of the contract, but Abel stops him. ‘Whoa there Clyde…..don’t be too hasty. You did notice in the last paragraph there that you must give up a part of yourself to fulfill yourself did you not?’ He turns to look over at Melvin who is shaking his head. The red-skinned therapist knows he will need to convince him that he won’t regret this as he attempts to explain to Clyde what his true calling is. He turns his attention back to the much more receptive young man. ‘Clyde, are you willing to give up a part of yourself to me? What I mean is…..you must be open to being a part of the Fire Guild just like your friend Elliott accepted. I gave him the same option I am giving both of you to turn around and walk away. The guild is made up of young men like yourselves who were treated poorly by others and have fulfilled their destiny through physical means.’ ‘I am willing to take the chance, Elliott told me a lot about the guild and it sounds like heaven to me.’ Melvin groans again and attempts to badger Clyde. ‘What are you thinking Clyde? The Fire Guild? This doesn’t sound good at all. I am starting to think this is the stupidest thing I could have ever been a part of in my life. I am going to go outside and call a cab you are out of your mind.’ Before he can even get out of his chair to put the folder down, Clyde signs the contract which makes Abel put his arm out to stop Melvin in his tracks. The therapist takes the folder out of Clyde’s hands and puts it on the other side of his desk. He takes his pen and does the same with it. ‘Have a seat Melvin, I know you are quite skeptical of all of this but your friend has decided to take the risk and won’t regret his decision. *gets up from the desk* Let me go into the bathroom over here so I can get the process started.’ When he goes into the side bathroom, Melvin tries to go out the same door he came in and realizes it is locked. He gets irritated and sits down on the floor located beside it. Abel comes back in wearing only his black briefs which gets a big moan from Clyde who immediately stares at his gorgeous hairy red muscles as they glean in the sunlight. The man’s massive tree trunks do little to conceal the thick hose that bulges in his underwear. He returns to the same spot on his desk where he was before and looks directly at Clyde who is now completely transfixed on the well- built man’s tempting body. ‘It is time to move on to the next step Clyde. Don’t be shy if you feel the need to be involved in what happens next. I am currently in the process of fueling my brain with the necessary formula that will be used to continue the transformation sequence. Let me pull these briefs off before it gets too messy.’ Abel sheds his briefs as a stream of precum dangles from the head of his thick red rod. Clyde’s breathing intensifies greatly as he feels his own brain being stimulated. Melvin watches from behind as he trys to hide his own bulge. The therapist kicks his briefs to the side as he moves over to touch the college student’s head with his cock as precum coats the side of his face. ‘You can go ahead and taste it Clyde, it isn’t the final product but you can still feel a nice rush go straight to your brain.’ The young college student’s eyes are now quite fixated on the bloated rod as he moves his head back to where the cock points directly at his mouth. Abel grunts a few times as his balls appear to be expanding. ‘Ohh yes Clyde…..that is exactly what you should be doing. I can feel my cock transforming into its full size.’ Abel’s cock swells as the veins stretch to accommodate the 12x12 shaft. His piss slit gapes open as a flood of precum begins dumping onto the floor. Clyde reaches out to feel the enormous shaft in his hands before placing two fingers into Abel’s slit. The therapist smiles as he feels his balls stretching his red skin to its limits as they turn to a blackish color. ‘Go ahead and fuck my slit with your fingers Clyde and taste the goo. It feels so soothing after building up so much pressure down there. It doesn’t take too long before it decides to unload so don’t wait too long.’ Clyde runs his fingers along the inside of the therapists bloated shaft and realizes he can slide them all the way in. He feels the river of precum being pumped past them as he finally pulls them out. Abel grunts as two massive strands of the goo follow Clyde’s fingers to his mouth. Melvin lightly moans to himself as he sees his friend lick both of his fingers. He moans tasting the sweet mixture which sets his brain on fire. He nearly passes out from the rush as he involuntarily reaches for the monster shaft with both hands and starts stroking it rapidly. The therapist’s breathing intensifies as his mammoth cock flings rivers of precum all over Clyde’s face and shirt. ‘Good job Clyde. Are you ready to fulfill your destiny? It is going to be quite messy so don’t worry about what happens next. In a few minutes you won’t care either way.’ Abel’s giant pole starts contracting as the cum starts to drown the young man in his chair. It also flies into the air and hits the wall directly behind him. Melvin scoots out of the way so he doesn’t get hit with it. The therapist rears back on the desk to let the flow continue as it envelopes Clyde completely. After releasing nearly a gallon of the white river, it stops pumping cum and retreats back to its original shape on Abel’s body. Clyde sits motionless in his chair which worries Melvin who jumps to his feet to go over to his close friend. The red-skinned man stops him from moving any closer to him as he grabs his arm to prevent him from touching the cocooned student. ‘STOP MELVIN! You haven’t signed the document yet, if you were to touch him, you would be in a lot of trouble.’ After a few seconds, Melvin can hear Clyde breathing again as the cum absorbs through the fabric of his clothes and burrows underneath his skin. As it does this, the college student starts swelling as his muscles all begin growing all over his body. The popping sounds are followed up by a lot of creaking and stretching as Clyde moans deeply feeling himself changing from the inside out. His loose khakis and polo struggle to deal with the mass that is quickly filling up every single centimeter underneath the fabric. He is not in agony and is completely embracing the whole transformation as Melvin notices his good friend’s head and face are getting quite muscular as well. Abel moves away from Clyde to give him more space as the young college student grunts when the buttons on his shirt fly off and his engorged new pecs explode out the front as seams and fabric shred within seconds. The space in his chair fills just as quickly as Melvin notices a massive roadmap of veins running up and down his friend’s arms as his biceps, forearms, and triceps appear to be doubling up on each other. The massive bulbous shaped muscles stretch his skin to his limits as his legs make quick work of his pants. The seams echo around the room as his bloated tree trunks massacre every square inch of them as the chair he is sitting in begins to struggle against how wide he is getting. He laughs as he flexes his giant guns and destroys the armrests in his chair. He decides to stand up as his tattered outfit falls to the ground revealing his incredibly powerful new frame. From behind, Melvin stares at the mountains of muscle twitching on his friend’s back. His thick meaty ass puts thoughts into his head he has never had before about Clyde, let alone another guy. (END OF PART ONE) Part two has arrived: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7485-how-to-change-your-life-through-muscle-therapy-part-2-of-2/ Check out the first three parts of A Most Muscular Year: Christmas Surprise: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7025-a-most-muscular-year-starts-with-a-christmas-surprise-part-1-of-7/ New Beginnings: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7160-a-most-muscular-year-leads-to-new-beginnings-part-2-of-7/ Progression to Sex: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7264-a-most-muscular-year-sometimes-progresses-to-sex-part-3-of-7/
  25. ‘Calm down Jamie and tell me exactly how you are feeling right now.’ ‘I’m just…..fed up Dr. Willpower. I have tried dating multiple times before and it just ends up the same way. I admit that I have high expectations, but lately I pushed them aside because I feel like I am never going to find that special man in my life.’ The matchmaker sits back in his chair and rubs his reddish brown beard before tugging on his glasses a bit. He gets a look on his face that makes Jamie wonder what he is thinking about. ‘It is okay Jamie. You were referred to me for a reason. I don’t operate my business like a lot of those stupid websites do asking for personal information. I do need to spend a little time with you though just to get a handle on where your head is. Hmm…..I am going to conduct a physical attraction test with you okay?’ Jamie seems to think this is going to go in a sexual direction and sort of gets a nasty look on his face. ‘Uhh, what do you mean physical attraction? Do you mean……sex?’ Dr. Willpower shows his pearly whites and unbuttons one of his top buttons on his shirt revealing a tuft of chest hair that seems to glisten just a little. Jamie seems to react in a way that suggests he is into fur. ‘Uh huh, it is okay Jamie if you are slightly aroused. I am just trying to figure out what you like in your mates. Now I am going to unbutton the next one and this will tell me if you are a fan of something else.’ The button is undone revealing Dr. Willpower’s hairy pec shelf which is quite thick and beefy. The round boulders ripple slowly as he makes them bounce up and down. Jamie moans deeply as he sees them hugging the doctor’s shirt very tightly. He tries to look away but can’t help but to watch the matchmaker as his huge arms strain against the shirt sleeves. The thick baseball-sized muscles bulge as he sits with his hands in his lap. He makes them contract a few times making Jamie sort of sigh a bit. The doctor picks up a pen and jots a few words down on his PDA before looking up and smiling. He gets up from his chair to walk over to the other side of his desk to where Jamie is sitting. ‘Jamie, you like hairy muscle don’t you? It is okay to admit this because I have to make sure I find the right man for you. I am not trying to seduce you like you might be thinking. What else do you like on men physically?’ Jamie looks up at the doctor and seems a bit distraught. He is moving erratically in his chair as the matchmaker positions himself in front of his client. The hunky doctor looks him straight in the eyes before leaning down to give him a nice bearhug. Jamie puts his arms around the muscled man’s back and slowly rubs it lovingly before letting out a nice sigh. ‘It’s alright buddy to feel this way about muscle. So if I find you a man with a decent amount of size, you would be okay with it?’ Jamie grips him tightly and almost completely loses sight of why he is even there. Dr. Willpower proceeds to ask him the question again. ‘Jamie, do you like how my muscles feels against you? Hmmm…..I think I need to ask you this…..have you never been with a muscular man before?’ Jamie mumbles a few words before the matchmaker pulls away from him. ‘Let me put a little distance in front of us so you can focus a little better. You don’t really have to answer, I figured you hadn’t Jamie. The way you were clinging to me was kind of like a first-time reaction.’ Jamie looks at him embarrassed. ‘Yes, you are right doctor. I have never been with or dated a muscleman before. Guys with your build have always been out of my league. I just can’t get past the fact that I am out of shape and ordinary.’ Dr. Willpower pulls up a chair close to them and sits beside Jamie. He takes one of his client’s hands and places it on his huge hairy left pec which nearly falls out of his shirt. Jamie’s pupils dilate as he feels the matchmaker’s beating heart as well as his pec rippling under his hand. The doctor produces a little smile that makes the young man feel a little calmer. ‘I think I can be a great friend to you Jamie. I want to help you find your soulmate so please don’t be afraid to tell me anything that might be on your mind. It is my goal to build your confidence up and have nothing to lose and everything to gain.’ ‘Umm okay? *continues to feel the doctor’s pulsing pec against his hand* How long are you going to keep my hand there Dr. Willpower?’ The matchmaker bounces his pecs making Jamie accidentally bounce his cock in his pants. ‘As long as it takes to make you relax for me Jamie. I want you to feel comfortable and not so restrained, this is part of the exercise.’ ‘I uhhh…..can’t handle the pec bouncing…..*feels his cock getting closer to bursting*…..it is getting me aroused……’ Dr. Willpower can see him struggling to keep his composure and releases his hand from his chest. ‘It’s okay Jamie, I don’t want to embarrass you anymore.’ The matchmaker gets up and completely unbuttons his shirt. As he pulls it off, Jamie gasps as the doctor’s enormous shoulders and traps are staring him directly in the face. The blanket of red fur on his upper back makes Jamie nearly lose his load. The matchmaker slowly turns his head to the side before he turns back around to reveal his huge ab slabs and heaving furry pecs. ‘How are you feeling Jamie? Are you distressed now? My body is not necessarily typical of most men but I do work hard to look like this. Would you say you want your soulmate to look like me?’ ‘Uhh I think I do doctor. Your body is absolutely beautiful, such incredible muscularity and the fur looks so great on it……gawd I am having trouble breathing.’ ‘I shouldn’t have taken my shirt off Jamie I’m sorry.’ He goes to get a jacket and puts it over his upper body before he sits back down in his captain’s chair. ‘I think I took the wrong approach with you. I have been a bit indulgent I think, the narcissist in me couldn’t resist. Anyway, I want you to spend about thirty minutes on this database I am going to upload on a screen for you. It will lift up from right arm of your chair Jamie. Do not rush through it though. I want you to pick one man from the entire list and submit it to me. My computer will then access your selection over here on my desk. I will leave you alone during this time so you can focus on making a decision. When I return, I will determine whether or not I think you are genuinely making the right choice. Remember take your time on this, but don’t panic if you come close to the deadline.’ Jamie makes a gesture that he is ready to continue. The screen pops up from inside the arm of the chair and immediately lights up. Dr. Willpower leaves to go down the corridor of his office as the database loads. It isn’t long before the young client realizes that he has a lot of different tastes in men. He starts to mumble to himself a bit as he sees various guys that may interest him. Fifteen minutes go by and he still hasn’t made a selection. He stands to take a break as it seems to overwhelm him a little. The matchmaker peers around the corner to look at him before he sneaks in slowly behind. The young man sort of feels his mind drifting as he looks out the window of the office. Dr. Willpower places his hands on Jamie’s shoulders and rubs them a little. He sighs as he feels them relaxing and turns to lean against the hot doctor’s chest. ‘I uhhh…..I think I may have found a few that I like doctor, but I am having a hard time focusing on just choosing one.’ ‘It’s okay Jamie. I think you actually need a little bit of stress relief. I have a solution for that.’ The matchmaker takes his jacket off and undoes his pants to pull them down. His hairy quads glisten as he kicks his pants to the side. He pulls Jamie into his chest and rubs his back. Jamie moans as he starts to kiss the doctor’s chest. ‘Mmmmm feels good Jamie. I think this is going to be a productive session after all.’ Jamie moans loudly as he runs his tongue up and down the matchmaker’s thick hairy chest. He cups Willpower’s ass which gets a strong reaction from the muscled doctor. ‘Yeah Jamie, I am sensing a thirst for power inside you. You have repressed this for far too long I can tell. Don’t be afraid to let loose on me, I can make you fulfill your destiny.’ The client runs his tongue down along the doctor’s thick knobby abs rubbing his lips against them and moaning deeply. He rubs his face on the hair that trickles down underneath the matchmaker’s black underwear. The doctor can see that Jamie wants to taste his big cock as it grows from inside his tight briefs. Jamie starts to run his fingers along the lengthening shaft which makes the matchmaker shutter a bit. ‘Mmmm Jamie you are getting me all hot buddy. I want you to just dive in and get more acquainted with my cock if you don’t mind.’ The doctor pulls his undies off as his huge throbbing cock bounces in front of Jamie’s face. His eyes light up instantly as the engorged head slaps him on his cheek. The doctor rubs his client’s brown hair and pulls him in to touch it with his lips. Jamie opens his mouth as he tastes the big pink cockhead and sighs as he does it. His hands reach around to rub the doctor’s hairy bubble butt. ‘Oh yeah Jamie…..go ahead and puts a few fingers in me man. Warm me up a bit so I can make cum for you.’ The horny young man shoves two fingers inside the matchmaker’s ass and slowly moves them in and out of his hole. He gulps down the doctor’s huge rod and works it over in a steady rhythm. ‘Yeah that’s it Jamie…..I promise you that finding another mate won’t be that difficult after this.’ Jamie stops sucking after a few minutes to move down to suck on the doctor’s balls individually as they start to swell up. Jamie notices that the doctor’s ass is starting to loosen up as it quickly swallows his hand that was leaning against his hole. He moves it in and out in short bursts making the matchmaker moan in his deep manly voice. ‘MMMM buddy, you are starting to make me precum. Come back up and catch some of it on your tongue.’ Jamie pulls his hand out and moves back up to the muscly doctor’s cock and gobbles it down sucking slowly and methodically. The doctor growls as he makes his client moan tasting the sticky stream flowing down his throat. ‘Keep going Jamie, it won’t be long now before you can think more clearly.’ The eager young man sucks faster on him as the matchmaker breathes heavier massaging Jamie’s shoulders. He can feel a load building inside his balls as they begin to contract. The cum begins to move up inside his cock until he makes Jamie stop sucking. ‘Whoa there buddy. Let me calm down a little…..whew I know you want to change your social status but let’s just take a few moments to let this sink in.’ Jamie looks up at Dr. Willpower’s face with a lusty glare before kissing his matchmaker’s cock. The muscled stud smiles down at him and speaks for a few moments. *trying to keep his thoughts straight* ‘Ahh, you have me right on the edge Jamie, but I have to warn you about this. I can actually change the way you look just by feeding you my cum. I can see that you want this badly, but remember that there is no turning back once you consume it.’ ‘I don’t want to think about it Dr. Willpower…..feed me your cum hot man…..I want to feel empowered.’ Jamie goes back to working his doctor’s cock which begins to throb harder than before. The doctor can feel it starting to flow back into his cock again as Jamie moans loudly. He opens his mouth to watch it spray out Willpower’s cock slit and land inside his mouth. The white jets coat his throat and immediately begin to absorb into his bloodstream. The client can feel his body reacting to the cum right away as his back starts to stretch wider. Still with the matchmaker’s cock firmly inside his mouth, he moans feeling himself growing. Dr. Willpower grins as he sees Jamie’s metamorphosis occurring. ‘Oh yeah Jamie just let it overtake you, this always excites me to see my clients fulfill their muscular destinies.’ Dr. Willpower watches as Jamie’s back splits the back of his shirt before his jeans rip down the seams. The immense quads burst outward as his ass rips a huge hole into the fabric. His upper body continues to wreck havoc on his shirt as his shoulders and traps rip their way out the top. His shirt falls past his chest as his abs begin to reveal themselves from within his belly. His chubby tits stretch and pull their way further outward until they are in a uniform position. He moans as his nipples grow bigger to keep up with the swelling beef filling in where there was once fat on his pecs. This coincides with the emergence of his growing lats. He yells passionately as his arms thicken up making the veins pulse against his skin as they swell filling with more blood. The stretching and popping sounds from inside his arms make both men ooze precum. The doctor leans down to run his hands against the growing flesh. He growls a bit knowing that Jamie is becoming a new confident muscleman. Finally, Jamie’s jeans completely fall off revealing a huge hard cock ready to burst as the veins engorge with blood. The growing young client reaches down to stroke it as massive jets of cum go flying all over the doctor’s floor. Dr. Willpower picks up his new muscular client off the ground and gives him a nice big kiss on his lips. Jamie’s face has changed slightly as his boyish looks now resemble a more mature version of himself. His hidden dimples now show through as a cleft in his chin emerges too. Facial hair has started to grow as brown stubble now covers his formerly clean-cut face. The overweight client is no more as he embraces his matchmaker rubbing his neck and shoulders. Dr. Willpower massages Jamie slowly feeling his thick rippling muscles in his back and rubs their thick beefy pecs together. Jamie humps his matchmaker’s cock voraciously trying to make the doctor fuck him, but he resists. The frottage gets to be too much for Willpower though as he blows another huge load all over Jamie’s insanely muscled ass. ‘Oh my gawd man, you are a stunner. I know you want to be fucked, but I just can’t give you any more cum. You look great the way you are now frankly. In fact, the next step in this process is to find a man for you that equal your hot body and your great personality. That shouldn’t be too hard.’ *in a much deeper voice* ‘Wow I feel like I have been reborn Dr. Willpower. I did fear that I would lose my mind from this transformation, but I think I am still the same guy. You were right about me being different deep down inside. I have fantasized about being huge and muscular, but I wanted to retain a lot of my integrity. I really had no idea that this would happen to me. Working out was never an option for me before so you helped to eliminate that. Thank you.’ ‘Well you will have to work out a lot now Jamie. This is just like real life, except I probably got rid of about two years of training for you. Anyway, I notice that you are still in need of some relief. I think you wanted this earlier……*points to his eager hole* My hole is definitely hungry for some protein, do you mind if you can feed it for me? *winks*’ Jamie grins at him and immediately plugs his huge cock inside the doctor to start pounding him. Willpower growls with each thrust as he slowly starts to sit on top of Jamie’s huge tree trunks. Halfway in between the fucking, the doctor turns his head around and says, ‘by the way you can call me Wilfried if you want Jamie, I think we are past the introductions now. I personally like you and will do everything I can to find a soulmate for you.’ Check out more stories here: https://muscle-growth.org/user/119-ravenweremuscle/
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