Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 14 of 14

[LJackson]

The story so far: probably too complex to go into now. You're at the end of the adventure - might as well go back to Chapter 1.

Alternatively, here's the big climax: Chapter 13.

Thanks to everyone for their amazing comments along the way. Hope you enjoy this little coda.

14

December 31st

 

Olly

 

 

 

Writing this on the bus from Dulwich to Clapham. It’s just early evening, but the sky is blue-black. Black naked trees are powdered white with frost. The street gleams with irregular splashes of ice. I last wrote this diary at the start of October, and the world is unrecognisable from those early days of autumn. Shit, maybe I’m unrecognisable from those days. I’ve changed so much this year. I guess change never really ends. People on the pavement are wrapped up against the chill, not an inch of flesh visible, and I’m swaddled in layers and wool. I probably look bigger than I really am.

         But then, sometimes I think all of us are bigger than we think we are. Even the skinniest of us go deep, and have the capacity to get large. There’s a lot of size and power in the mind – and I guess that’s where you really need to have your strength, too.

Not that I don’t work out.

Not that I didn’t like being the size I was.

Not that I’ve forgotten how it felt to inhabit Mr Chesterton’s body. To wake up, slightly dizzy, and realise that I possessed a bigger, stronger, more virile physique than ever before. A big dark beard. A big deep voice. A big – a really, truly big –

No, I mustn’t let myself become seduced by it all again.

I must remind myself how it felt to realise I was a caged animal. Lost in another man’s body, another man’s life, and in a locked room. Locked in another man’s plan. Outmanoeuvred. Used. Used by a true alpha. However big my dick was, I had been well and truly fucked over by Mr Chesterton in every sense, and my body had been taken as if it was a cheap whore’s.

It was lucky for us that Nico was across the hall, that he had been listening to everything that had happened. That he liked me more for it, and was prepared to unlock the door and hold me in his big, bulging, sweaty, lubed embrace until I felt normal again.

Not in a gay way. I think.

But it was his friend Tom — who we've both got to know better, since — who alerted us to what was happening now. That MuscleWorshippers.com was broadcasting the sort of action it had never seen before. It was quite strange watching myself – on Nico’s tablet screen – having sex with Stephan. Having my bigger-than-ever dick played with, and then slipped up his arsehole.

Even weirder to see the confession that followed.

So, none of it had been for me. None of it had been about my strength, my pleasure, what I wanted. He had manipulated the base longings that every straight boy had. He had built me like a house, and then taken me over. My mind had been shuffled around as though it meant nothing at all. One big power-play, and all about muscle.

He had never worshiped me, and neither had Dr O. They had both been building a totem. The only person who had truly been devoted to me was Stephan, the man who saw through my awesome body to the boy within.

And then it came. Just as I was getting used to the height and heft and power of Nico’s Dad’s physique. The call to return to my old body. And I wasn't sure at all. I wasn't sure I wanted to give up this body. The biggest, strongest thing I'd ever seen.

I still wonder sometimes if I was right to let it go...

The things I could do with it…

Imagine if Sophie saw me in it, for instance…

No! I must be more careful. I know the seduction of Mr Chesterton’s body are just a calling back into the trap. Back to being used. I know that my mind could be drawn away if I don’t maintain a grip on myself. After all, nobody knows where Chesterton has gone now: we just know that he’s gone, and that Nico, as his legal heir, has inherited everything. The Muscle Worshippers site. Uranus Gyms. That beautiful big house in Dulwich Village.

I suppose it’s fair to say that Nico has got his own life back, too.

It’s also got to be said that Nico might be the only one who knows where Chesterton has gone. After all, he was alone with the body when Chesterton’s mind drifted back to it. Nico says he was overpowered by the older man, the two of them wrestling on the fluffy carpet like naked giants, and that Chesterton vanished away soon after.

We know that Chesterton is on the run. And we know that he smashed into a police cell in Bromley and liberated Dr O. The two of them could be anywhere, cooking up anything. But did they do it with Nico’s help. Does Nico maintain a sense of loyalty to his guardian, the man who made him, cloned from his cells, built to inherit his mind, engineered as a queer muscle beast…

Perhaps Nico has more of his father in him than just genetics and muscle serum…

I’m sure I’ll find out one day. But Nico certainly has been a good friend to all of us. Look at the way he took Stephan and Tom to live in his beautiful house in the Village. The way Stephan described it to me, they’ve become Nico’s two gay dads, and they’re going to give him the love and (more to the point) freedom that he didn’t have when he lived with Chesterton. They’re encouraging Nico’s old interest in physics and chemistry. They’ve said they’ll pay me to be his tutor. He gave up on science when he was sixteen, but his curiosity's there, deep down. He still likes keeping fit but there's more to him now, day by day. A real boy.

Nico has texted me too. He doesn’t describe it so much as a happy family. He says he loves the threesomes they have. He describes them in great detail to me. He sends me pictures from his phone. I think Nico and Tom are trying to persuade Stephan to appear as a cam performer with them.

I text back encouraging things, but I feel a bit left out, not being gay.

I text much filthier things to Sophie. And not just filthy. Friendly. Affectionate. Even a little apologetic. She was right that I was changing – and changing too fast, perhaps. I’m so glad we get to have a second try at things. My head is clearing, away from the weird drugs of Dr O and the performances from Nico and 'Estelle' (actually a porn actress, of course — I knew I recognised her from somewhere). I realise now that I don’t want to give up on what I have with Sophie.

She realises, too, that she liked my muscle. All my muscle. And perhaps it wasn’t so bad to get a little kinky now and again. Not that she knows the half of what my life’s been like this year.

So I’m on the bus to see her now. It’s been months since I last saw her, but we’re going to travel down to the river to watch the fireworks and then I’m staying over at hers. If I get what I want – I mean, if things go my way – then she’ll be the first person in London to see the new me, the first of any of them. That’s how it should be. I can’t be Stephan or Nico’s lover – that’s not who I am, I see that now.

It’s been three months that I’ve spent down on the south coast, in Brighton. Nico paid for it with the Uranus finances, and I’m so grateful to him. I could never have gone back to my own house looking the way I did, that day. Bottom line, I had come home from university in summer as a sweet, five foot four, 60kg lad without even a moustache. Now I was over seven foot tall, turning the scale at 150kg, arms over twenty inches around, chest about sixty, covered in fur – I don’t even think I could have hidden that thirteen inch dick in my trackie bottoms without someone guessing something was wrong. I was another boy now.

            And there were chemicals alive in me now.  I was ready to grow further. I lived to lift. I wanted to fuck. I wanted to fuck girls, boys, glory holes.

            I needed some time away.

            The months have been kind. I’m not quite six foot any more, and I have the build of someone who’s been at the gym for a couple of years without taking any steroids or weird shit. I try and stay clean shaven; even my hair is cropped now. I use clippers on my chest fur but I don’t grow it anywhere else right now besides where I should be. I look almost normal.

            It’s a good place to reset before I start building again – this time, as naturally as possible.

            When I was halfway through normalising, I came to London and looked in on everybody. My physique was a good disguise. I stopped by Uranus Gyms and saw how Stephan’s friend Hakan is working there now, as a nutritionist, and getting free personal training from Nico. That’s going to be interesting.

            I saw Stephan and Tom in a pub. Stephan checked me out, but only for a minute. Then his attention was back on his partner, where it needs to be.

            I saw that my ‘big’ brother has begun working out. We shared a changing room together. He was flexing these baby muscles in the mirror and getting a little hard-on. I don’t know why but it was kind of hot. He’s got potential – he’s always been taller than me (until this summer) and he’s obviously serious about building some size now. Becoming a real man. I like to think I inspired that. I wonder if we can spot one another. I’d like to see what he could become – and perhaps he could repay me by sharing his girlfriend with me…

            Shit, I’m nearly at Sophie’s house and my head obviously still isn’t clear. I mean, if I’m going to apply for a research scholarship in the new year, to study biochemistry and hypertrophy, I need to focus. I certainly don’t need to think about racing my brother to get the juiciest pecs, and comparing dick size with him when we each take one of his girlfriend’s holes, fucking her so hard and deep that she has more multiple orgasms than she’s ever thought possible; high-fiving my bro, as his rippling muscle grinds away in harmony with my own high-powered thrusts…

            Brothers in muscle, always competing, one guy always ahead. Showering together. Towelling one another off. Wrestling to test our strength. Dripping with sweat. Pumped to the max. Grunting. Gasping. Pinning him to the mat, however strong he gets. Getting his girlfriend to measure us with her little hands, little tongue, little pussy. Hearing her tell me I’m biggest.

            Always. Always the biggest. Ever the beast…

            Shit, Sophie’s house is the next stop, and I have to get back to earthly things.

            Let’s try some New Year’s Resolutions.

1)     I’m going to read more. Feed my mind.

2)     I’ll go back to the library, apologise and try and get my old job back for a while.

3)     I’m going to stay away from Nico, Stephan and the others for a while. I don’t know what they’ll tempt me into.

4)     I’m going to make a real go of it with Sophie, even if she doesn’t want to restart a physical relationship tonight

5)     I’m going to be serious about bodybuilding, but it won’t run my life. I want to do everything in proportion and balance.

6)     That includes Sophie and – well, the other side of my sex life. I’m going to stay in touch with the guys I met in Brighton, but I am not going to hook up with any men in London. I’m going to keep those two sides of my life completely separate. I’m with Sophie now, and what I have with LJackson and Ro20316 is just not on the same level. It’s not about love. It’s physical. It’s not gay – definitely not. It’s about masculinity and changing rooms and power. It’s muscle worship, and I don’t care about anything else in this list, but I’m not going to give it up.

            Fuck, but the sensation of drilling Ro20316’s arse with my rock hard dick, pinning him down easily with the strength in one hand, hearing him tell me how big I am…

            I mean, it’s hard to understand, let alone describe. It’s secret, it’s wrong, but it’s part of me. It always will be. Whether I stay this size or become a beast all over again, nobody will ever get hold of my mind again.

         I'll always be slightly more than anybody sees at first glance. That will always be enough for me.

Edited December 31, 2017 by LJackson
Added link to chapter 1

[Ro20316]

On 31/12/2017 at 3:55 PM, LJackson said:

what I have with LJackson and Ro20316 is just not on the same level. It’s not about love. It’s physical. It’s not gay – definitely not. It’s about masculinity and changing rooms and power. It’s muscle worship, and I don’t care about anything else in this list, but I’m not going to give it up.

            Fuck, but the sensation of drilling Ro20316’s arse with my rock hard dick, pinning him down easily with the strength in one hand, hearing him tell me how big I am

Me when i read my name on the story

Man this story was-is brilliant. It so well done. Im in love. 

There so much potential for a sequel where we se Nico growing to be the alpha his dad is-was and of course have dr o back. 

Man Just brilliant

[WisteriaDay]

What a great story! Really hot stuff and the writing was on point too! Thanks so much for dreaming it up and sharing it with us : )

[portamivia]

Loved it! Thank you so much. And we’re waiting for more! I’d love to bounce off ideas for your next story... ;-)

[GymFox90]

Dammit! I was going for a tryout and started reading the first chapter. Ended up reading the whole thing. Quality stuff here!

[Kinnikunonaku]

I like this story so much! Couldn't stop reading it, great job