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The Scent of a Man

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(Authors note: Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day.  Never forget!  Never again!  With the climate for LGBT folk looking less than positive (Trump/Pence) to down right alarming (Chechnya?!) I had hoped to write a related MG story.  Unfortunately what I was concocting was very long and fairly dark.  I felt that the story I am posting now is a bit more fun and definitely shorter, so much more in keeping with spirit of the anniversary.  My thanks to all supporters out there, particularly RPJ, Muscledhorse, graniteknight, flamedelft and powerbeats.  It is my pleasure and honor to participate in this forum.  You all kick major ass!)

The Scent of a Man

By Bjort

He schlepped off the gym floor heading for the locker room.  Schlep was definitely the word.   It had been a lack luster workout.  He had been achy and uninspired right from the off.  It also felt stuffy and warm in the gym, even though it was a beautiful early summer evening. 

The gym was newish and had high ceilings, large windows for natural light, and a top grade ventilation system.  It was also kept quite clean, as corporate policy demanded, and generally smelled only vaguely of cleaning products.  Tonight, however, he kept catching a faint whiff of some other scent on the air.  It was nothing he could pinpoint or directly recognize.  As he made his listless way toward the locker room door, however, it suddenly put him in mind of the first time he had ever entered into a gym.


It had been in junior high school.  He had been taking swimming lessons one winter at the indoor pool in the basement of the old YMCA.  He had felt distinctly self-conscious being the baggy trunks wearing whale amongst a school of Speedo clad proto-jock sharks.  Nevertheless, he doggedly joined in with the group, including the inevitable running about before being corralled by the swim coach for lessons.

The pool was located in the basement of the Y.  There was a long central corridor that connected it to the locker rooms and rest of the basement facilities.  It was ideal for the aforementioned pre-swim tearing around.  At the far end of the corridor lay the weight room, known locally as the dungeon.  It was small, cramped, shabby, ill lit, and painted with slightly peeling paint in a color he would later come to know as Soviet Hospital Green.  It had a sort of “Here Be Dragons” kind of mystique among the young swimmers, enhanced by the fact that it was generally inaccessible to them.  The door from their corridor was generally locked from their side—the gym entrance and locker rooms being located elsewhere.  There was a small glass window in the “back door” to the dungeon however and often as they were racing in the corridors the boys would stop and try to get a peek into the dragon’s den. 

One day when the group reached the end of the corridor, they found something different.  The door was open!  All careening ceased immediately and they all clustered around to get a look.  Nary a dragon was in sight.  Indeed the dungeon was completely empty.  Seizing the opportunity all scuttled in for a good look around. 

The smell hit them instantly, like getting whacked with a ball bat!

“Jeeeezus it stinks in here!” said one of the lead sharks as he abruptly did an about face and made for the door they had just entered.  The rest of the school quickly agreed with mutters of “Yeah!” and “Fuckin’ A!”  He, however, did not immediately follow suit.  Yes the smell was powerful, yes indeed, but also intriguing.  He looked more closely at the exotic pieces of equipment and the bodybuilding posters tacked up over peeling paint as he tried to identify the smell that was invading his nostrils and teasing his brain.  Sweat certainly.  The place was clearly not well ventilated.  He imagined men like those in the posters, nearly naked, bulging in all manner of ways, grunting with effort as they did arcane things with these strange machines and objects as the sweat poured off in rivers making them glisten in the dim dungeon light. 

He became more intrigued and started to examine these odd muscle-building artifacts a bit more closely.  There was the smell of iron, which definitely has a smell.  No chromium and naugahide here.  This stuff was ancient iron scarred with long use.  He discovered another small piece of the scent puzzle as he realized that the benches and pads were covered in either canvas or real leather.  Ancient relics indeed!  Another piece came from the floor, covered in rubber matting.  It added a hint of the automobile tire showroom to the mix. 

Other smells provided accents.  There was the smell of those now ancient and almost disappeared men’s products: Brylcream, Vitalis, Aqua Velva, Brut, Lancer, and (reminiscent of his old man’s generation) Bay Rum.  There was also smoke…lots of smoke…cigarettes, cigars and even the unmistakable smell of a doobie.  This was a time when everyone smoked everywhere.  How many times had he listened to his mother bitch about people smoking in the checkout line at the super market or yell at his older sister to “Go smoke that shit outside!”?

There was another faint smell that his young nostrils had not much encountered.  In that heady aroma was the scent of what in his later life he would come to recognize as man sex.  For many years afterward he would imagine in glorious detail what those muscle men in the dungeon had been doing beside hoisting iron and getting swole.  That male scent was complex and had many nuances.  At its base, acting as the foundation for the entire olfactory structure, was an odor that thundered through his brain.  It was rich and earthy giving him an impression of something wild and powerful.  It was a smell that went to his core and filled him with a wash of feelings, desires, and needs that he had never experienced before. 

He stood stock still as he breathed in greedy lungfuls of that “stink”.  His mind raced and his body tingled with goose pimples as he absorbed it and let it wash over him.  He felt wonderful... alive and powerful and, to his surprise, lustful!  He realized that as he was lost in these thoughts he had begun to get hard.  He was not at tent pole stage yet, but Mr. Mojo seemed to be on the rise. 

Just as he was contemplating a retreat to a toilet stall in the locker room, His swim coach poked his head in the open door.  “Get yer lard ass out of here and in that pool now or you are gonna do laps until you sink like a stone!”  All reverie gone and his promising hard on deflating like a punctured tire, he sprinted out and down the corridor leaving the mysteries of the dungeon behind.  Thank God for baggy swim trunks he thought as he ran!


Now as he made his slogging way across the gym, he vaguely recalled this incident.  He dismissed it as "just one of those things".  Perhaps he was just in particular need of a shower.  He hoped a hot shower would also make him feel better in general.  Maybe he was coming down with something…

As he was changing he spotted the new "supplement" bottle among all of his other supplements and nutritional whatnot on the locker shelf in front of him.  The bottle was unlabeled and contained large neon green horse pills.  He had been told they were highly secret super supplements obtained from some nutrition lab somewhere under murky circumstances.  He had bought them after a high pressure sales pitch bordering on bullying from the Gym Stud.  You know the guy.  Every gym seems to have one.  The Gym Stud is buff, hung, and seems to live at the gym.  The Gym Stud wears really skimpy or tight workout clothes when he is not swanning around the locker room in the nude.  The Gym Stud talks a lot at the big boys when they are working out and does not really give the rest of the gym goers the time of day. 

As such he had been completely tongue tied when the Gym Stud had approached him in the locker room a few days earlier.  The Gym Stud had spun a take about having gotten a hold of these experimental high power super supplements through ways of his own.  The Gym Stud was, however, skimped and needed to unload them for ready cash.  The Gym Stud told of the potential marvels that awaited anyone who took these magic beans and that anyone who missed this opportunity would live to regret it and so on.  He said nothing to any of the Gym Stud's blandishments, eventually wanting so much to get away that he silently forked over the requested amount.

He stared at the bottle for a moment, and then in a flash realized that he had taken two of them with his other supplements and his pre-workout protein drink before the work out.  He had not had any coffee before the gym and had been in a total fog as he came in to work out.  He took the bottle and opened it.  He immediately recognized the smell of the pills as the same one he had been catching a whiff of during his workout.  The same scent that reminded him of his moment in the dungeon at the Y all those years ago.  Damn!  Maybe this was why he was feeling out of sorts.  What an idiot to take something totally unidentified… without even realizing it!

He took the bottle and sealed it, then tossed it in his bag.  He would dispose of them properly rather than leave then in the gym for someone else to find.  He considered for a moment.  He felt hot and achy, but not as if his life were in danger or anything.  He determined that the best thing would be to complete his routine here and see how things developed after he left the gym. 

The locker room was empty as he quickly stripped down.  It generally was at this hour, which is why he trained at this time of day.  He quick marched past the locker room mirrors and into the showers.  The shower stall, however, had a mirror that was hard to avoid.  He looked at himself as he waited for the shower water to get hot.  He was big framed and reasonably tall.  But he carried a lot of flab on that frame and it would take a long time and a lot of work to get rid of it. He would definitely need some miracle pill to achieve his true muscle dreams. As he stepped into the shower he chided himself for being such a sap.

Hot water and soap did not make him feel any better.  Nor did it wash away the smell of what he was now convinced were the so called "super supplements" he had stupidly taken.  As the steam rose in the shower stall the scent grew more noticeable, no matter how he scrubbed and soaped.  Soon he was engulfed in a cloud of reeking steam.  The heat and achiness he felt began to increase.  His vision blurred like his eyes were steaming over as well.  The world closed in on him as the rushing sound of his own pulse began to beat in his ears.  It got louder and louder and the ache changed into real pain all over his body.  He felt as if he were reaching the boil as he desperately groped to turn off the water.  The insistent pulse continued getting louder and deeper…strangely growing slower rather than faster.  His whole body hurt now, feeling as if it was roiling like some primeval mud pot.

His heart and chest hurt the most.  It felt as if his heart were going to burst out of his chest as its pounding got ever slower, stronger, and deeper.  He flashed on the John Hurt moment in "Alien" and he thought he could actually feel his heart expanding, pumping greater and greater amounts of blood out into his body.  It was as if something white hot or electrical was spreading out from his heart through his arteries to every part of his body. 

The pain continued, slacking in the chest and moving out in all directions. The scent increased as well, more than ever like the smell of the old dungeon.  He felt sweat pouring over him and blood surging through him.  He could still not see, but he felt a new sensation, as if each bone and muscle in his body were expanding and changing.  As the pain continued to subside this new feeling grew, and he knew it was the feeling of power, of pure masculine strength, entering and expanding each bone and muscle. 

The power moved out as well, starting in his chest, which felt as if it had expanded to accommodate his new muscular heart.  His vision was clearing now.  He could clearly see as the power focused on his shoulders stretching them wide while massive pecs emerged from his chest.  His belly rumbled with the power in his blood as it shed fat, growing a tight sexy set of abs.  Next his arms and legs ballooned with bulging muscle fed by thick snaking veins glowing faintly. 

As the smell reached an epic peak, filling his flaring nostrils, power reached his now rock hard cock.  It stood at full attention arching out and up with new length and girth, his balls swelling to huge proportions, ripe with juice and raring to pump.  Lastly he felt the blood surge reach his neck and head, capping his now enormous shoulders with glorious sweeping traps.  He felt his face change as well, dark face fur emerging to compliment the luxuriant hair developing on his chest and abs.

As the blood power subsided he felt it reach his final destination in his cranium.  His brain soaked in this new power and his mind immediately embraced his new physicality.  The scent he was smelling was the smell of a man, a true man, even a superman.   This was his new reality and the scent and the power in him fully confirmed it.  He was an ultimate man, saturated with strength and power, complete in his manhood and in the mastery of his environment. 

He emerged from the shower stall in a cloud of steam like some newborn god.  He strode with pride, loving the feel of his giant thighs rolling around each other, the bounce of his massive pecs, and the wide swing of his mountainous arms.  His huge cock lead the way, hard as iron and pointing toward the ceiling.  As he stopped to pose in front of the locker room mirrors and fully revel his new glory, he flared his nostrils again, taking in once more that smell… the scent of a man!  He struck his first monumental double biceps pose.  His muscles immediately exploded into even fuller glory--his mammoth cock straining and twitching in ecstasy and approval.  As he admired himself, he thought that he really wanted to fuck someone blind.  As he turned toward the exit he wondered if The Gym Stud was around to become his first muscle worshiper.

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33 minutes ago, cutlerfan said:

Loved it! A fantasy of many fat boys and men!

Definitely a smidge autobiographical ;)  So glad you liked it!

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Good story! Though I feel slightly dumb now, because of the many wonderful and unusual words you used as you described the smells and feelings. (That was a dig at myself, not at you.) :D 

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3 hours ago, powerbeats said:

Man I really shouldn't have read this in a public place. Lucky I wore my fanny pack today ;)

Hee hee hee!  Made my day PB.  Bjort, causer of public lewdness from a great distance! ;)


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2 hours ago, flamedelft said:

Good story! Though I feel slightly dumb now, because of the many wonderful and unusual words you used as you described the smells and feelings. (That was a dig at myself, not at you.) :D 

No worries mate!  I am more than prone to fling the bullshit!  Hazards of a legal education.  Res Ipsa Loquitor!

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