Colin's Determination: Conclusion

[cropsey23]

I was just coming out of a deep sleep when I heard his heavy footsteps walking up the hallway. He walked into my room without knocking on the door.

 

“Bro,” I heard his say in a deep voice. “Get up, I need a ride to go lift.” And with that, I felt his big hand on my ankle, starting to turn me over. No matter how much I resisted, within a few seconds he managed to drag me to the end of the bed.

 

“Okay, I’m getting up,” I said. My feet hit the floor and I looked at him, wearing ridiculously tight workout shorts and nothing else. His long, sandy brown hair hung in his eyes, and even though he had just shaved the night before, he head a heavy stubble across his face. His cheekbones looked liked they were carved from marble, and his jaw was perfectly square.

 

His shoulders were wide and thick with muscle, even bigger than the day before. His massive chest heaved up and down slowly, and with each breath his cobblestone eight-pack of abs popped out even more impressively. Across the top of his left delt, the word DEAT was tattooed in block letters. Drop everything and train, had become his mantra, and that of the entire team.

 

His huge arms hung at his sides, pushed out by his incredibly wide and powerful lats. I smiled at him, impressed with how determined he had been, and slowly stood up, still in my briefs.  At 6’ 6” and 275lbs, I was just a hair taller than him. But he now outweighed me by 10lbs of pure grade-A muscle. The resolute look on his face said, DEAT.

 

Standing at eye-level with him, I could feel his calm breath and knew it was time for our new morning ritual. It started a few weeks ago, as a way to test his strength. He held the car keys gripped in his hand, and extended his arm to me. “You can’t drive me if you don’t have the keys bro,” he said mockingly. He looked down at his arm as it slowly tensed up. First, the bicep formed into a huge softball. As he continued to focus, the power moved down to his forearm, which was thick with new muscle and several prominent veins. Looking down at his stomach, he crunched his eight-pack next, revealing phenomenal new definition.

 

I reached over and gripped his enormous bicep. “Very impressive. 21 inches?” I asked.

 

Looking right at me, he pumped up his bicep even more and said “Doesn’t that feel like 22 to you?”

 

I laughed, and started to slide my hand, first down to his thick forearm. As I started to move down to his wrist, he opened his hand and dropped the keys on the floor, and wrapped it around my own formidable forearm. His grip felt incredibly powerful, and he applied some pressure, holding my arm in place. “Let’s not play this game anymore, we both know it’s been getting harder for you to overpower me,” he said.

 

We stood face to face, our hands tightly gripping each other’s forearms, neither one of us willing to yield. 44 inches of bicep muscle between the two of us started to fire up. He smiled at me, and started to force my arm up. The movement was imperceptible at first, but then he really started to overpower me. Within a few seconds, he had my hand up in the air, almost in a victory pose. With his arm raised, I could see the muscled striations of his interior bicep.

 

He was more stunned than I was. Even though he was clearly now much stronger, this was my victory.

 

“Holy shit, you were right. Your training plans really worked,” he said.

 

“Well, if you want to get to the gym, you’ll have to let me go now,” I said, and with that he released his iron grip. He bent over and grabbed the car keys, and tossed them to me. “Let’s go. DEAT!”

 

Oh, in case you were wondering, this is Colin speaking. I know up until now you have heard this story from the perspective of my brother, Greg. But he’s been so busy lifting lately. So I’m going to catch you up on what’s happened in the last three months, as both Greg and Marcus found their own determination, and finally started to grow.

 

As everyone else on the team was gaining muscle mass quickly, both Greg and Marcus seemed to be struggling. I paired them up in the hopes they would motivate each other, and that motivation came in the form of Marcus’ father, Dan Cunitz.

 

Mr. Cunitz was one of the most successful and powerful real estate developers in the state, and I had convinced him to help fund the team: renovating the house, providing new gym equipment, even supplying the food and a kitchen staff. He had always taken an interest in the baseball team, and it was his clout that got Marcus onto the team, in spite of his small size and total lack of athletic skills.

 

To Mr. Cunitz, his son was a total disappointment, and he made sure to tell Marcus every time he came to visit.

 

“All the money that I donate to this school and they can’t put five pounds of muscle on you? Why can’t you be more like Jackson?” Mr Cunitz would say whenever he visited.

 

It was a poorly kept secret that Mr. Cunitz was very fond of Jackson, who was the star player and the biggest guy on the team, at least until I arrived.

 

Jackson was your typical dumb jock: shower him with some attention and gifts, and he was easily manipulated. Mr. Cunitz knew how to do this. He was very generous with Jackson, hiring personal trainers for him, buying him clothes and workout gear. Jackson responded by bulking up fast. Jackson loved the results, and was easily manipulated into performing some oral favors for Mr. Cunitz in order to keep the largesse coming. By the time I arrived on the team, Jackson stood 6’ 5” tall and weighed 275lbs.

 

I knew that if I were going to rebuild this team, I would have to establish myself as the unassailable authority. Jackson responded to my authority, and I put an end to their special relationship immediately.

 

Mr. Cunitz was not happy with that, but he seemed to enjoy interacting with me. He would call for updates on the team regularly, and I gladly complied, letting him treat me like another paid employee. But sometimes I would offer to chat with him on FaceTime, and he never turned down those requests. I would play dumb, sitting in front of the cam as we chatted. When I had a financial request to make, I would take off my shirt, so casually, and let him see the muscle god that I was. I wouldn’t pose for him – that would be too direct an approach with a Type A guy like him. Sometimes I would have Jackson in view behind me, shirtless as well. And little by little, I started to create a hunger in Mr. Cunitz that he never knew he had. I’d pretend to turn away from the camera, and that gave him an opportunity to stroke his fat dick. I never caught on that I knew, and that gave me the upper hand.

 

I started to get more direct in our conversations, demanding large sums of money for the team. Once, he hesitated and questioned my request for $5,000 cash to buy new equipment. I stood up, with the cam right on my ripped eight-pack, and started to reach over to shut my laptop.

 

“I guess this conversation is over, Dan.” But once he saw my thickly cobbled stomach up close, he relented.

 

“Okay, okay! I’ll have it delivered tomorrow,” he said, with a bit of desperation in his voice.

 

I leaned down in front of the cam, with no expression on my face, and said, “Make it $10,000, Dan.”

 

The next day, a courier arrived, not with $10,000, but $15,000 in cash for me, the keys to a new Cadillac Escalade, and a profuse letter of apology from Dan. “So sorry about last night Colin. The Escalade is paid for and insured, for your private use. And use the extra cash as you see fit. Respectfully, Dan.” Colin laughed. Respectfully.

 

Dan was hooked. The most powerful businessman in the state was dominated by an 18 year-old college freshman. And he had no idea.

 

He was still an asshole though, especially when it came to Marcus. I allowed him to vent about this, to let him think he still had some authority left.

 

“Can’t you do anything about that runt?” he said to me in one particularly angry chat we had. Marcus was in the room at the time, out of the cam’s view. But he overheard the entire angry conversation. I looked up at Marcus as his father ranted about him, saying things like “useless kid… got his mother’s shitty genetics… he’ll never amount to anything.” Mr. Cunitz ended by saying “I’d rather turn this company over to you, Colin.” Then he ended the call.

 

I looked at Marcus. Instead of bursting into tears though, I could see the blood rising up in him. “So sorry you had to hear that Marcus. I’m refining a new training plan for both you and Greg,” I said.

 

Marcus walked over to me, with a fire in him that I had never seen before. “Whatever it takes, Colin. MAKE ME HUGE.”

 

I stood up from my chair, shirtless. The contrast between the two of us couldn’t be more remarkable: a 6’ 5” 275lb muscle jock, standing next to a 5’ 7”, doughy 140lb nerd. “Bigger than me, Marcus?” I asked.

 

He didn’t hesitate to roar up at me, “YES.”

 

And just like that, my new plan went into action.

 

Marcus started training the next day with a new, inexhaustible intensity. Since Greg was his workout partner, his intensity increased as well.

 

The two of them working out together was like an inferno.

 

Within a few days, the rest of the team mobilized around them, knowing that something incredible was taking place. Brendan and Jeremy became thief full-time coaches. Jackson and James attended class on their behalf, taking notes and even exams in their place, so their grades didn’t suffer.

 

And the results were remarkable. They both seemed to stop thinking about anything but lifting weights and training. The entire house revolved around them. Marcus shed his baby fat quickly, and even dropped a few pounds at first. His abs popped quickly, revealing a frame that was ready to add a massive amount of muscle.

 

Greg, already in good shape, started adding muscle rapidly, anywhere from 5 to 8 pounds a week. At one point, I expected the growth to level out, but something even more remarkable happened: he got taller, slowly rising up from 6’ even, to just under 6’ 5”. This allowed him to add and carry even more muscle. Before long, he outgrew his clothes quickly and started to borrow mine.

 

I managed to keep Mr. Cunitz off-campus during this intense growth phase. I wanted to keep harnessing Marcus’ anger to fuel the growth. But after three months of excuses, I needed to let him visit the team.

I was running drills with the football team one afternoon. You remember how the football team begged me to annex them to the baseball team? Yea, I did that, and now they were the biggest and most feared team in the state.

 

Anyway, I got a text from Dan. Will arrive in five minutes, it said. I kept looking out at the road for his car when I heard a helicopter overhead.

 

I received another text: Clear the field, I’m landing. Well, I thought, he has paid enough money to this school. He should be allowed to land his helicopter.

 

The chopper touched down, Dan got out of the pilot’s seat and ran over to me. At 6‘ 2” and a very solid 210lbs, Dan had managed to keep his jock physique into his early 40s. He was wearing tight jeans, and a snug polo shirt that showed off his impressive arms. He was a very handsome man, even more so with a bit of ginger stubble on his square jaw.

 

“Sorry about landing the chopper right here Colin, my schedule is very tight this week.” I could see him measuring up the shirtless athletes, each one an Adonis in his own right. “Wow, I can see my money is being put to good use. I bet there’s not a one of you under 225lbs.”

 

“240 is the minimum for this team Dan,” I said, correcting him.

 

“I guess the runt isn’t in this crowd, huh?” he said, with disdain.

 

“Marcus is at the gym,” I said, “but I texted and he’s on his way over. With Jackson and Greg,” I added.  

 

A few minutes later, the Escalade pulled up. Jackson got out of the driver’s seat in just his workout shorts. I could hear Dan gasp at the site of him.  Dan thought Jackson was a fortress of muscle a few months ago, but after coaching by Colin he was now a mountain: he towered at 6’ 8” and 315lbs of pure, fat-free muscle. His shoulders were colossally wide, his pecs quite literally like plates of armor, and at his side hung 24-inch biceps. Dan’s eye’s drifted down to Jackson’s powerfully thick legs, which were barely contained in the nylon shorts.

 

“Hey Jackson, you look amazing,” said Dan, not even trying to hide his lust for the young muscle god. “I’ve got to get that stud on his knees for me again,” Dan thought to himself.

 

Dan reached over and grabbed Jackson’s enormous bicep and squeezed, but he couldn’t even make a dent. “Maybe you can show me around the training facility later, huh Jackson?” he said, in a desperate attempt to get some private time with the jock.

 

Jackson just stared blankly and said “Ask Marcus first.” The fact that he didn’t fawn over Dan’s attentions, and financial largesse, just pissed off Dan even more.

 

Then Greg got out of the car. He was now easily 6’ 6” tall, with 290lbs of muscle. He was wearing workout shorts, and bursting out of my old hoodie. Greg sauntered over and stood next to Jackson.

 

I glanced over at Dan, but didn’t say a word. I wanted him to enjoy every minute of the muscle display that he had financed. I knew that after today, I would never have a problem getting money out of him again.

 

Then the passenger’s side door creaked open, and the vehicle rose up as Marcus got out of the truck. Still partly obscured by the vehicle, Dan looked at me and said, “Is THAT my son?”

 

Rounding the front of the truck, Marcus finally revealed himself to his hateful father: He stood at 7’ 2” tall, and carried 415lbs of solid muscle on his frame. His neck was the size of a small tree trunk, and his smooth, massive chest heaved slowly. He was wearing an open button-down shirt, revealing thick dark fur on his ripped 8-pack.

 

He was, by far, the biggest guy on the field, and probably in the entire state university system. Despite his size, he walked over briskly to his father.

 

“Hey Dad,” he said, in a deep voice, letting his father soak up every inch of him. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” They chatted for a few minutes. Dan was clearly rattled, and Marcus enjoyed toying with him.

 

Colin could hear the tone of the conversation change as Dan raised his voice. Ah, thought Colin. Classic bully: put him in a situation he can’t control and he lashes out.

 

“You could be more grateful Marcus, it’s my money that financed this whole team. And your transformation,” said Dan. “If I pulled the funding, you would revert to the loser you’ve always been.” Colin could hear the desperation in his voice, as Dan turned around and faced Jackson next: “You too. You would be a washed up college athlete if it wasn’t for me. You should both be more respectful to me.”

 

When no one responded to his idle threats, Dan turned and walked towards the helicopter. He shouted to me: “You are all cut off. No more money from Mr. Cunitz. Let’s see how you losers do without me.” He got into the cockpit and slammed the door.

 

Marcus walked over and calmly said, “Dad, open the door,” but Dan ignored him. “DAD, OPEN THE DOOR.” Mr. Cunitz glared at him, revved up the helicopter and started to lift off the ground slowly. Marcus reached over and grabbed the skids of the helicopter and gripped it tight. “PUT IT DOWN DAD, OR I’M TAKING YOU DOWN.” And without waiting, Marcus flexed his powerful lats and biceps and yanked on the helicopter, pulling it back down onto the ground with a thud.

 

Mr. Cunitz, stunned at this display of superhuman strength, turned off the engine. Marcus reached for the door and yanked it right off the hinges. He reached in, grabbed his father and easily hauled him out of the copter.

 

“RESPECT?” roared Marcus. “You WILL fund the team, whatever Colin asks for, from now on. No questions. Got it?”

 

Mr. Cunitz whimpered, “Yes Marcus.”

 

Marcus hauled him back up and carried him over to Jackson. “You’re so fond of Jackson, well now you belong to him. We need a need water boy on the team.”

 

And just like that, my transformation of the team was completed. A group of mediocre athletes was now a team of unstoppable muscle gods already feared across the state.

 

With the unlimited funding from Mr. Cunitz secured, I eventually annexed every other sports team in the university, and became the first student named as University Athletic Director.

 

Now, onto my plans for national domination….

[xboy]

Hey cool work!

[Dreamforge]

Nice! Marcus' growth sounds like it could be its own story!