musclegin30

m/m The Muscle Gut Club (A Novel)

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musclegin30

Synopsis: Aron is an 18 year-old muscle obsessed college freshman who masturbates to muscular guys online. His favorite videos to watch are those of The Muscle Gut Club, four muscle gods who make a living sharing their size and strength with the online world. Steven is a muscle obsessed college junior who likes The Muscle Gut Club videos as well, though he hates himself for enjoying something so blatantly homosexual. Life becomes complicated for them both when the club leaps from the cyber world and into the real one. Aron goes down a path that leads to his wildest fantasies, while Steven takes a darker road. There will be muscle worship; there will be sex; there will be humiliation; there will be revenge; and there will be growth. No ones lives with be the same, including those of the club members in this 38 chapter long, muscle filled, character driven story told from 6 characters' points of view. Come and meet The Muscle Gut Club.

 

Chapter One: Aron

            Aron Ocampo sat in his darkened room with only the faint glow of his laptop screen illuminating his face. His cock was in his right hand, dripping with pre-cum and steadily growing harder becoming so engorged with blood that it almost hurt. A pleasurable hurt. In his other hand, a tube of lotion, ready to lubricate his manhood.

            On the laptop he watched intently as a muscle stud moved closer to the camera filling more and more of the screen with his immense size. He was standing in a Starkly decorated living room. Clad only in a tiny red poser that could barely contain his bulging manhood the young muscle monster began to flex.

            His neck was astonishingly thick. It blended into two mountainous traps that met two cannonball delts. His arms were 19 inches around and framed a pair of perfect slab-like pecs that jutted out so far you could eat off of the shelf they created. He struck a front double bicep pose followed by a most muscular. The muscle god was not lean, but Aron didn’t care. He liked his men big and this fine specimen fit the bill. His muscle gut stuck out just past his pecs, obviously stuffed with a large high protein meal to fuel the muscle bull’s growth. Aron began to slowly stroke his erect little cock.

            The camera panned down to focus on the muscle god’s thick legs. They were like tree trunks. The monster legs were so big they almost made the meat between them look small, but Aron knew that was only an illusion. That cock was not small. He had seen it many times before. Aron stroked himself faster now.

            There came a knock. The muscle monster swaggered over to the door and opened it revealing a tiny pale twink, so skinny and short it was laughable but Aron couldn’t laugh. He was just like him, a pathetically small and weak boy who could never compare to a real man like the muscle god who made his cock throb with pleasure.

            “You came to worship me, your master?” The muscle god’s voice was deep and he spoke with authority.

            “Yes master,” Said the twink, clearly intimidated. He wore nothing, save for a pair of boxers. Aron wished he was in his position and could be in the presence of such impressive muscle. Lucky bastard he thought  

            The muscle god pulled the twink into the room with one powerful arm so fast that the little fellows feet momentarily left the floor. He landed approximately six inches from the muscle god. The twink’s head only reached his master’s chest. He looked like a schoolboy next to a full-grown man. The muscle man’s biceps were bigger than his legs! Aron continued to stroke himself, slower now. He had to pace it just right.

            The muscle god handed the little twink a bottle of baby oil. “Get to it shrimp,” he said with a grin as he flexed his huge arms. He looked at his muscle obviously impressed with himself.

“God, I’m fucking big,” he bellowed.

            The little shrimp began to oil his muscle master. He rubbed and caressed each body part. The pecs seemed to be his favorite part and he paid them special attention. He got on tippy toes to kiss them up and down as the muscle god squeezed and relaxed. Squeezed and relaxed. The twink began to suck on the nipples making the muscle god moan with pleasure.

            “Oh yeah, worship my monster pecs.”

            “Yes master.”

            The twink’s little cock was growing pushing out the fabric of his boxers. The muscle monster’s cock was growing as well, straining his tiny posers. Aron began to stroke his manhood faster now. The climax was coming and he wanted to time it perfectly.

            “You worship my muscles well. Now how about you worship this.” The muscle god grabbed his bulge. At-least 2 inches of his cock was sticking out of the top of his posers.

            “Fuck ‘em,” said the muscle monster as he pulled off his posers with a loud RIP revealing his 8-inch python. “I outgrew them months ago.”

            “They fit perfectly to me,” said the twink with a smile.

            “Shut-up and suck,” commanded the muscle god. He pushed down on the twink’s shoulders and the little guy collapsed to his knees. Almost as fast as he hit the ground he had the cock in his mouth and began to suck with enthusiasm and glee. Aron watched longingly. God, I wish it was me.

            The twink deep-throated the whole cock, sucking it and pleasing it from balls to tip. He twisted his head from side to side working the thick veiny shaft with such skill that the muscle god was high on pleasure. He threw his head back and moaned, “yes, yes!” Aron was stroking his own cock in almost perfect rhythm with the twink’s sucking motions. The spasms came slow at first and then faster. He was about to blow.

            “I’m coming. I’m coming,” the muscle monster began to shout. The twink stopped sucking. Still on his knees he looked up at the towering behemoth above him. Its cock aimed square at his face. The twink closed his eyes. Aron closed his eyes. The muscle god blew several huge loads all over the twink’s face. Aron shot his cum into a strategically placed garbage can under his desk.

            Aron loosed the grip on his cock and took in a few deep breaths. Some cum had made its way onto his hand and he was sweating slightly. The twink’s face was covered in a layer of muscle man spunk, thick and creamy white. He looked like he fell head first into a bowl of yogurt. It oozed by his eyes and dripped from his chin. The twink began to lick the warm cum from his face.

            “That’s right boy. Suck it all in. You aint leaving here until every drop of that cum is in you.” The huge stud placed his hands on his muscle gut and began to laugh as the twink continued to eat his cum with audible MMMs. The screen went black and Aron was left feeling empty now that the video had ended. He knew it was only a 10-minute video when he purchased it for $50, yet somehow he thought it would go on longer, or at least hoped as much.

            He had purchased the video from the Muscle Gut Club website. The Muscle Gut Club was a group of four college aged men dedicated to growing their bodies and sharing their progress with adoring fans the world over. With a combination of free youtube videos showcasing their lives and hardcore videos on their for sale site, they took the Internet’s muscle fetish community by storm. The four muscle gods lived together, ate together, and pumped iron together.

Aron made his way over to the club’s youtube page, and clicked on one of their older videos: Muscle Gut Club Protein Bloat. The whole club was sitting on a huge black leather sofa. Edmund Moreno, the junior competitive bodybuilder, sat on the far left. His dark brown locks fell just to his earlobes His tanned skin and square jaw were to die for. In the middle sat the two muscle bears, the weightlifters, Brendon Lane and Daniel Hogan. Brendon was smaller here than in the video Steven had just paid $50 for. He still had the same mocha skin, short neatly trimmed beard, and bloated muscle gut. Daniel, the Irish American was pale, hairy, and sported a lumberjack style beard. On the far right sat Thomas Patel, the Indian fitness model and physique competitor. He was by far the smallest of the bunch, the only one under 6 feet and 200 pounds, but his 160 pounds of lean muscle packed on a 5 foot 8-inch frame made him an impressive site. Thomas was hairless save for the short, neatly combed black hair on the top of his head. All four of the studs were wearing nothing but briefs (strained at the seams).

 In front of them was a table filled with high protein delights. There was a family sized bucket of KFC fried chicken, four steak fajitas, a pound of crispy bacon, 8 hamburgers, and a platter of bbq wings piled so high as to form a mountain in the center of the table. Aron was always impressed by the club’s eating ability and this video was over one-year-old. Surely they could eat twice this now since they had all grown.

Edmund was the first to speak. He spread his arms wide. “We are going to eat all of this. It’s enough food for 16 normal people, but we aren’t normal. We’re fucking gods.” He flexed his biceps and the other’s followed suite, though his had the most impressive peaks of the bunch.

“What are we celebrating boys?” asked Edmund.

“My powerlifting meet,” said Daniel.

“The success of my photoshoot,” said Thomas.

“Being the biggest motherfucker here,” shouted Brandon with a pat of his gut and a laugh.

“And I’m celebrated the end of my bulk. After this it’s time to get shredded for my next competition,” said Edmund, “let’s feed these muscles”. 

At once these half naked muscle gods greedily dove into the food like they hadn’t eaten in days. Bite after bite, so fast it was a wonder no one got hurt. They grabbed and shoved and gnawed in the sexiest spectacle of gluttony on the web. Four alphas feeding their growing physiques, trying to satiate their oversized appetites. The club members began to rub and pat each other’s distended bellies, laughing at, and admiring the damage done. Aron was growing hard again, and so were the members of the club.

The gentle creak of Aron’s bedroom door opening startled him. He quickly closed the video. His heart raced. Mrs. Rita Ocampo, Aron’s mother, entered the dim room and stood just inside the door. She wore a silk night gown and a tired expression.

“It’s 1 am,” she said.

“Yeah.” Aron did not turn around. He slyly slid his cock back into his pants. 

“What were you doing Aron?”

“Nothing! Just getting ready for bed.” Aron closed his laptop and turned around with a pout. “Can you knock next time mom. You know I’m old enough for some privacy.” His room had no lock. Parent’s rules.

“You still live under my roof.”

Not for long.

“But I will knock next time,” She said, rolling her eyes.

When his mother had gone Aron took a deep breath. One of his biggest fears was his parents discovering him watching gay porn or any material that could be seen as homoerotic in nature. Aron discovered he was gay, or rather accepted the fact, when he was 16. His parents had no clue to their son’s true nature as far as he knew and Aron did everything he could to keep it that way. His parents did not approve of the lifestyle and considered it a terrible sin.

 He had had hopes of sitting his parents down on his 18th birthday and telling them the truth, but his 18th came and went 2 months ago with not a peep. Instead he remarked to a classmate, within earshot of his father, how hot his neighbor’s 19-year-old daughter was, all in an attempt to keep the façade intact.

It doesn’t matter. In a month I’ll be in college, free to do what I want and be what I want. Aron smiled at the thought as he crawled into bed, before drifting into a dream land populated with muscle men.

 

Chapter Two: Steven

 

            Steven Hess stood naked in his cramped bathroom facing the mirror. His expression was one of disappointment. In 3 weeks I’ll be back in college with this same pathetic body, he thought. Standing at an even 6 feet, with a flabby 180 build, he not an impressive sight. Clothed, he could suck in his paunch and pass for fit to the untrained but here, standing naked there was no hiding his lack of definition.

            He grabbed at 3 inches of flab on his stomach and shook it with a frown. He performed a front double bicep only to discover there was hardly any peak on his 14.5 inch arms. He was disgusted and only grew more disgusted the longer he stared at his reflection. Still he stared. He squeezed his soft pale pecs and flexed his invisible abs. He left the bathroom in a huff and proceeded to get dressed in a pair of blue denim shorts and a light gray t-shirt.

            Steven sat at his computer desk. A few thin rays of morning sun speckled his shirt, warming him. But Steven did not want to be warm. He got up to turn on his air conditioner and close his blinds, choosing to sit in cool darkness.

            Muscle Gut Club. The thought seemed to come from nowhere. Muscle Gut Club. An inner voice seemed to call out for him to watch their videos. I thought these urges were gone. I thought I was cured of these sinful thoughts. He shook his head in anger. Steven had first discovered the club’s videos when he was 18, two years ago. He had started working out at the time and the club served as motivation for him. Their early videos consisted of mostly flexing, workouts, and eating. Steven hoped to look like them. However, his efforts proved fruitless. After eight months in the gym he had gained 10 pound and half of that he believed to be fat. Steven came to the conclusion that the club members must be on steroids, that anyone with big muscles must be on steroids. Steven had decided he would never defile his body with such impure and dangerous compounds so he quit that working out business.

            Still, he continued to watch Muscle Gut Club videos, even as they grew more sexual in nature. Where once the club would do a video fully clothed (very tight clothes of course) they would now do them in boxer briefs. Steven masturbated to several of their videos, especially the ones focused on Edmund, the bodybuilder. I’m not gay. I’m not gay. I’m just hormonal and young. Everything makes me horny. There’s nothing wrong with this he would tell himself. The more he said it, the less he believed it until he forced himself to stop watching Muscle Gut Club videos once and for all.

            His abstinence lasted all of a week when he discovered that he went to the same college as the club. There videos were filmed off campus in a private home so there was nothing in them to give away the location. There was no hiding their faces, though. Steven was walking to the dining hall and the four muscle gods walked towards him, Brendon, Thomas, Daniel, and Edmund, Oh Edmund. From that point on Steven was at war with his homosexual desires.

            Now he sat in is dim room faced a decision. Listed to the voice: Muscle Gut Club or fight it. He chose to listen. I’ll stop tomorrow. It’s no big deal. Steven opened his laptop and immediately went to the clubs YouTube channel. He would not pay for one of their videos. He scrolled through and selected the video titled “Edmond Dominates Benny the Twink.” He stopped himself. No, no. You’re not a faggot Steven. Stop this. Yes, you are. You’re just a muscle loving faggot who’ll never have any muscle of his own. No I’m not, I have a girlfriend. Yes, you are, she’s just a cover. No I’m not! Steven slammed the computer screen shut.

            “Goddammit,” Steven shouted as he bolted up from his desk. Pacing the room, he hummed to silence the voices making war in his head. Steven had just woken up but now he eyed his bed, contemplating it. Rest may help me. I’ll just close my eyes. He slid under the covers.

            In no time he was lost in sleep and a dream took him.

            Steven could not tell where he was, outside or in. A dry fog surrounded him and obscured the boundaries of his vision. Is it day or night? He lay on scarlet satin seats in black pajama bottom with no top. A roll of soft fat curled over the pajama’s waistband as he leaned up to further survey is surroundings. The bed was so large that the edges of it were lost in the fog. The thought to roll entered his mind and so he did it. He rolled and rolled like a child in the grass but stopped when he realized he would not reach the end.

            He peered deep into the fog. A shadow seemed to take form in the haze. It moved towards him, slowly.

            “Hello,” Steven called out. No reply. Still the shadow moved closer, growing larger and clearer.

            “Hello,” he called again. “Where am I? What is this place?” Again there was no reply.

            The figure was nearly upon him. It was clearly that of man, tall with broad shoulders. The fog seemed to part before him and Steven saw his face. It was Edmund Moreno. His chiseled jawline could have been carved from stone. Edmond stared at Steven with is light brown eyes. His lips formed a cocky smile. He wore a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt unbuttoned at the top. A gold band was on his ring finger. Steven looked at his own hand and found a matching gold band that he had not noticed before. His heart skipped a beat.

            Edmund’s arms stretched the fabric of the shirtsleeves. His brood chest pulled at the material around the buttons. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and pealed it off his massive frame, then slowly undid each button on the white shirt, working his way lower until he had revealed his washboard abs. Steven had grown completely hard. He pushed his boner down in shame but the iron hard cock was too rigid. It could not be tamed.

            The muscle god flexed his biceps and ripped open the shirtsleeves along the seam before throwing the shirt into the fog. He motioned to undo his belt and as he did so his meaty pecs bounced with ever movement of his arms. Steven was now jerking off furiously to quell his raging boner.

            Edmund lowered his pants revealing meaty, striated thighs, and an impressive cock. It was thick, veiny and clearly rock hard but it was so large it hung low and heavy under its own weight. Every part of him was impressive. Steven salivated and rose to his knees, still beating his meat.

            Suddenly Edmund lunged forward, stopping just short of forcing Steven back. His mammoth manhood knocked Steven in the face. It was more impressive up close, truly a beautiful sight. Steven took it into his mouth and began to suck. He sucked with passion and desire as if there was nothing else he wanted, only that cock, only that moment. He stopped stroking his own cock and concentrated solely on the Stud standing above him. Edmund grabbed Steven’s hair and pushed his head further onto his muscle god cock. Steven gagged. His eyes filled with tears of pleasure.

            The rhythmic throbs came all at once. Edmund blew a forceful load into Stevens mouth, filling it with thick, warm, salty spunk. He swallowed it all with gusto and squeezed every last drop from that cock. When he was through he looked up at the muscle stud.

            Steven asked, “Got any more?”

            As if in answer Edmond bent over and picked Steven up with no obvious show of effort. He turned Steven over and ripped of the pajama bottoms, revealing a pale white ass that contrasted sharply with his own tanned skin. Edmond spit on his cock. Steven’s cheeks were parted by the massive manhood and his asshole was stretched to its limits. Edmund began to pound his ass with ferocity. Steven moaned in pleasure with each thrust.

            “More, more,” Steven screamed.

            Edmund blew his second load filling Steven’s ass with his seed.

            “Don’t stop!” Steven was breathing heavily. He turned and Edmund was gone. He was alone again with nothing but satin sheets and fog. All at once he heard a voice beside him.

            “Did you enjoy that faggot?” He turned toward the voice and was staring himself in the face.

“Did you enjoy that faggot?” the voice repeated in echo.

Steven woke with a start. He lay in his bed covered in a cold sweat. His manhood was rock hard. A feeling of disgust filled him, disgusted with himself, with that dream, no, nightmare. I’m not a faggot. I’m not a faggot. I’m not a faggot. He repeated the mantra as he got out of bed to carry on with his day.      

 

Three: Aron

            He struggled to lift his packed suitcase from the trunk of his parent’s SUV. It weighed 50 pounds, half his weight. His father, Mr. Efren Ocampo, helped him. Efren was a man of slight build and medium height, the same height as his wife in fact, 5 foot 8 inches. Both were taller than their 5 foot 5 inch son.

            “Son, you take this one.” He handed Aron a smaller bag and took the larger one himself.

“It looks like those people are welcoming Freshmen,” said Aron’s father as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Come on honey.”

Mrs. Ocampo sauntered up to stand by her husband. She wore large black sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat. It was an oppressively hot August day with not a cloud in the sky. The family began to walk toward the welcoming committee. Aron hurried in front of his parents, his arm straining under the weight of the ‘light’ suitcase. God I’m so weak. He switched arms and kept a straight face, refusing to show weakness.

The welcoming committee in this section of the campus consisted of three girls and three boys standing behind a long table under the shade of a blue picnic tent. The table was covered with boxes containing shirts, hoodies, mugs, pens, and notebooks, all with the University logo.

“Hi!” A girl said, beaming, as Aron surveyed the table. She wore a yellow t-shirt that read “Welcome Freshman” and her name tag read “Alyssa”.

“We’ve sure got a hot one for moving in don’t we? So tell me what dorm you’re in and I can direct you- what’s your name?”

“Aron.”

She extended her hand and Aron shook it. He used the opportunity to put his bag down and rest his arm.

“I’m Alyssa.”

“Hi, uh, Alyssa. I’m in Jefferson dorm.”

“Go down that path, past a big tree, make a right at the statue, and keep going straight. You’ll hit Jefferson. You can’t miss it.” She gesticulated wildly as she spoke.

Mrs. Ocampo leaned on the table once Alyssa was finished. “The dorm has air conditioning right? Please tell me it has air conditioning. When we came for orientation they only showed us the new dorms and they have air conditioning, but I wonder if they are hiding something.” Mrs. Ocampo pulled her sunglasses down and stared Alyssa square in the eyes.

“Well I know they added air conditioning to all the dorms 5 yrs ago but sometimes in the older dorms like Jefferson it can be a little iffy.”

“Fair enough.” Mrs. Ocampo replied.

Aron and his family followed Alyssa’s directions and arrived at the Doors of Jefferson. All of them were sweating profusely. Aron looked up the mammoth structure. Jefferson stood five stories and was in the shape of a huge capital “H”. English ivy clung to a brick façade and well-pruned cedars framed the main entrance. Aron had read that the first floor was all boys, the second, all girls, and the last three were co-ed. His room was 312, a co-ed floor to further his illusion of heterosexuality.

In Jefferson’s main hall the Residential Assistants handed out the room keys as well as a pamphlet of rules.

“Stay cool,” said a male RA as he handed Aron his key. “All even numbered rooms are on the left.”

Everyone’s so friendly. I’m going to like it here, Aron thought.  

The building had no elevators and by the time the family reached the third floor they were all exasperated from the combination of carrying luggage and the heat.  Aron opened his room door and saw that his Roommate was already present and had claimed the left side of the room. He was a tall, athletically built and Chinese. Aron remembered his name was Jason Ho and thought he was kind of cute. After a quick introduction (very quick, Jason was not the talkative type) Aron unpacked his bags and the Ocampos left for Walmart to pick-up a few things Aron would need, storage containers, an alarm clock, laundry hamper, lamp, and a small television.

With Aron’s room all set up the Ocampos enjoyed one final family meal at a local restaurant, though Aron would have been satisfied had they left immediately after returning from Walmart.

“That Alyssa was pretty cute, huh?” Mr. Ocampo said as he cut into a medium rare steak. “I saw the way you looked at her.”

Aron had looked at her funny because of her over the top hand gestures.

“I think she’s an upperclassman dad.” Aron replied. He couldn’t believe his father was playing matchmaker on his first day in college.

“So what. There’s nothing wrong with an older woman.”

“Efren!” Mrs. Ocampo snapped. “He’ll be focusing on school his first year. Romance later.”

“I was just messing with him honey.”

After the meal Aron’s parents dropped him off on campus. His mother had tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

“Call once a week,” she said. “We’ll miss you.”

“If you need any money just call son,” said his father “Have fun and we love you, and learn something.”

He hugged and kissed his parents and watched them drive off.

Free at last. Free at last.

Aron wasted no time exploring the campus. He had seen very little of it on orientation day and was curious to see everything it had to offer. It covered 1200 acres and Aron intended to cover as much of it as possible before dark. He was relieved that clouds had rolled in after lunch causing the heat to subside some.

Jefferson dorm overlooked the East campus dining hall. Aron found it drab. It looked like a restaurant that had not been redecorated since the 80s. Not much food was available since Aron had visited between meals, but the food that was available (pizza, chicken tenders, mixed vegetables, and French fries) looked edible enough.

As Aron walked down the campus’ main path (called Scholar’s Way) toward the heart of the campus he took in the sights and sounds of college. Students played ultimate Frisbee in an open field. Girls sunned themselves on towels discussing their summers. Two shirtless guys jogged by him and he tried his hardest not to stair too long. A hipster played his guitar under an oak tree. Aron didn’t recognize the tune.

It hit all at once. A rush through him down to his bones: the realization that he would be living there with thousands of other students for 3 ½ months (until winter break). New friends. New experiences. And he was ready. He stopped in the center of the path and looked up at the clock tower of the student union. It was 2:30pm and in that moment he vowed not to waste his time in college. He wasn’t going to live life through a computer screen in some dark room. He would have real experiences: a real life.

His lips lifted into the largest goofiest smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled in earnest because he was happy and not just to cover his true feelings. He lowered his gaze from the clock tower and in an instant his smile was gone. In its place was an expression of shock. In the distance he saw a familiar shape. A hulking figure moved through the crowd. It couldn’t be. Could it? No. It couldn’t be him.

Aron had to be sure. He ran through a crowd of students bumping into some. With rushed apologies, he pushed past them. His quarry was large, not easy to lose track of but Aron’s small stature meant that he could hardly see over other students. He had to be quick and luckily he was. The crowd grew thick the closer he got to the heart of the campus, the food court in the student union.   

Aron followed his quarry into the food court. He had heard they served much better food than the dining halls and the large crowd seemed to support this. There were several students taller than the one he was following but none wider or more thickly muscled. He wore a red tank top and white shorts with sandals. red certainly is his color.

The food court was arranged in two sections. First a semi-circle with various eateries crammed side by side: a taco place, a bakery, a sub shop, a Chinese place, a smoothie stand, and a pizzeria. The second was a rectangular hall with tables of various sizes.

 His quarry stood in line at the sub shop and Aron positioned himself in line at the taco place, close enough to see him but far enough away not to be noticed. His heart raced as he looked to catch a glimpse of his face. Mocha skin and a well-trimmed beard. He had all the features. It was Brendon Lane. If Brendon goes to this school then the whole Muscle Gut Club must go here as well.

Aron felt faint. He left his line without buying anything and made his way to the tables, choosing a seat in the corner that was obscured buy a support column. He felt like a creeper as he watched Brendon get his food with fascination. Apparently the appetite he displayed in his videos was not for show. He ordered two 12 inch sub sandwiches, and a giant size chocolate chip cookie from the sub shop, as well as a milkshake from the shake stand (apparently they offer to add protein powder to your shakes for an extra dollar, an option Brendon took).

Brendon sat at a table by himself just within Aron’s sights. He ate with gusto and consumed all of the food within 10 minutes. Aron timed him. When Brendon rose he rubbed his distended muscle gut and smiled before exiting the food court. Aron had a choice to make, follow or not.

It had long been Aron’s fantasy to meet the members of the muscle gut club. Now he had that opportunity. Should I take it? He masturbated himself raw to them. He had seen them all naked. What would I say to them? Hey, I like your cock. No. He knew he would probably be speechless, but still…

I have to try.   

Aron rose and ran from the food court. He caught site of Brendon in the distance. Taking a deep breath, he set off behind him. Exploring the rest of the campus would have to wait.

 

Four: Brendon    

 

            He pushed the weight up with little effort for the fifteenth time. 250 pounds was just a warm up for him now, but two years ago as an 18-year-old freshman it would have been a struggle. At 18 he had been working out for 3 years (seriously for only half that time) and had developed a lean aesthetic physique that could have been the envy of any fitness model. He liked his abs. He liked his striations but he liked seeing the weigh on the bar go up even more. That year something in him clicked and strength not aesthetics became his main goal.

            Now he lay on the bench in the Muscle Gut Club’s private gym a stronger more robust version of his 18-year-old self. In two years he had grown 2 inches in height and gained 50 pounds. At 6 foot 3 inches and 230 pounds he had no abs but he didn’t care. He was stronger than he’d ever been and only wanted to grow in strength. Bigger. Stronger. Better. He was on a forever bulk.

            Brendon stood up from the bench. He wore a blue stinger that covered so little of his upper body that he might as well have been shirtless, and black compression shorts that could hardly contain his squat-grown ass. He picked up two 25 pound plates like they weighed nothing and added them to the 250 pounds already on the bar. He proceeded to bench the weight. One rep. Two reps…by the Tenth rep he was breathing heavy, but he managed to crank out two more reps before racking the 300 pounds with a loud clang. Still too light. His cock stirred at the thought. If he could do more than eight reps of a weight he knew he had to go heavier.

            After a three-minute rest and a drink of BCAAs he added a 10-pound weight and a 2.5-pound weight to each side. The bar now weighed 325 pounds and after a deep breath he lifted the bar. His arms shook slightly but he managed five reps with perfect form. He racked the weight and sat up slowly. Beads of sweat formed on his temples and trickled down the side of his face. His pecs were pumped full with blood (as was his cock). He rubbed them and bounced them, enjoying the sight of himself in the mirror.

            “Having fun?” A voice interrupted his self-muscle worship session.

            Daniel Hogan stood at the door with a cheeky grin.

            “Lifting heavy without a spotter again. You’re asking to get hurt.” Daniel moved closer to him.

            “I’m not pushing myself too hard.” Brendon said.

            “You should be if you’re gonna beat me at the meet” Daniel flexed his arms as he spoke.

            Brendon laughed then said, “First you’ll have to get up to my weight class and I warn you I’ll be heavier by the end of the year.”

            At 6 foot 1 inch and 215 pound Daniel did not have far to go.

            “I hadn’t planned on competing in your weight class.” Daniel looked at himself in the mirror before picking up two 60 pound dumbbells and curling them.

            “Aah, you’re too scared to compete head to head so you plan to dominate in a lower weight class. But tell me how’s our bet going to work. I thought the person who beats the other has to pay $500-”

            Daniel interrupted him. “No, my idea was the one who wins their weight class pays the other $500.

            Brendon shook his head and smiled.

            “Tell me Dan,” Brendon began, “What happens if we both win in our weight classes, or we both loose.”

            Daniel stopped curling and looked his friend dead in the eyes for a second. He pushed his lower lip out, squeezed his eyebrows together and moved his eyes rapidly from side to side as he always did when deep in thought. “Well I guess of we both win or lose then there’s no bet then is there?”    

            “Guess not,” said Brendon, laying down on the bench. He didn’t really care about the bet. “Since you’re here and so worried about my safety, spot me on my pr.”

            “That’s a personal record for you?” Daniel pointed at the bar. “That only 325.”

            “No, you’re gonna make yourself useful and add 50 pounds to it. Thanks”

            “You’re fucking annoying,” Daniel said with a laugh.

            “I know.”

            When the weight was set Brendon took several deep breaths and grabbed the bar.

Daniel placed his hands under the bar. “You got this man, light weight, light weight,” he said.

Brendon lifted it with a deep grunt. Every muscle in his upper body tensed. He lowered the weight slowly to within one inch of his chest. When the time came to raise it he stalled. Don’t let the weight beat you. Beat it. Daniel began to apply upward pressure on the bar, but Brendon frowned at him and he immediately let loose keeping his hands a half inch under the bar. Slowly Brandon began to raise the 375 lbs. He flared his teeth and half way up stalled once more. Daniel touched the bar again.

“No help” grunted Brendon.

“Dude you’re going to pop something.”

“No help!”

He raised the bar further. Yes. Bigger. Stronger. Better. He completed the rep with a howl. Daniel cheered. After racking the weight Brendon sprung up from the bench.

Daniel grabbed his arm and shook him. “375 fucking pounds man.”

Brendon grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Who’s the man? Haha.” His head was in the clouds. He had hit a new personal record: The heaviest in the club. He peeled off his stringer and began to flex in the mirror. Daniel joined in.

“That got me hungry.” Said Brendon

“You’re always hungry.” Replied Dan

That was true and he knew it. He was a bottomless pit, hungry for size and power, and he fed his appetite whenever he had the chance. “Want to get something to eat?” Brendon asked.

“Nah, I just ate a pizza.” Dan rubbed his slightly distended muscle gut.

“Ok. Peace, I’m out.” Brendon left the gym shirtless, carrying his stringer in his hand. He could feel Daniel’s eyes watching him as he left. No doubt he was ‘miring.

Brendon had already eaten 6 scrambled eggs, 4 slices of bacon, 4 pieces of toast, and 2 bananas for breakfast, as well as a gainer shake just before his bench pressing session, but that didn’t stop him from stuffing himself at lunch. He ate two whole subs, an oversized cookie, and a milkshake in the student Union food court. On an average day he could consume 6000 calories and he certainly needed them.

 He lifted weights 6 days a week in the morning, focusing on a major lift or body part each time. 4 days a week in the afternoons he performed strong man style lifts for 2 hours: moving logs, farmer’s carries, tire lifts, atlas stones and the like. Today was one of those days. He decided to go home and take a nap to sleep off the meal. Then he would have another shake before heading to the Strong Man Center downtown.

As he walked away from the Student Union, he felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned to find a short thin boy looking up at him. The little fellow had peanut color skin, almond shaped eyes, and black hair. He appeared to have some Asian origin. A freshman no doubt, lost.   

“Yeah. Can I help you?”

The little fellow looked away when he caught Brendon’s gaze, then in an instant his eyes darted back to meet Brendon’s. He seemed nervous.

“I…uh…my name is…I just want-”

Brendon was growing impatient. “Are you lost?” he asked, uninterested.

“No.”

“Need help finding something?”

“No.”

There was a moment of silence.

Jesus. What’s wrong with him?

“Well it was nice meeting you,” Brendon said, sardonic. “But I got places to be.”

“I like your videos!” The little guy blurted it out suddenly as Brendon turned away, louder than necessary, and so quickly the words blended together.

“What?” Brendon raised his eye brows.

“The, uh, Muscle Gut Club videos. I really like them, like… a lot.” The little fellow lowered his eyes to the ground as if he had admitted to grave sin and was now ashamed of himself.

Brendon looked him over for a minute, before bursting out in laughter. He placed a large hand on the little guy’s shoulder and patted him so hard his frail body nearly keeled over.

“Sorry about that, little guy, sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” Brendon had a huge grin on his face. “Why didn’t you just open with that? I love meeting fans. It doesn’t happen too often. Most of them live too far away and it’s not like we give out our address since a lot of them are creepers if you know what I man.”

The little guy managed an awkward smile. He looked relieved.

“Kid, you looked like you were worried I’d eat you, haha.” And I probably could if I was hungry enough and you were the only thing around.

“So what’s your name?” Brendon continued.

“Aron Ocampo.”

“So if you want a private muscle video its $50 for half an hour, $100 if you want me to get naked.”

“Actually I just want to meet the whole club,” said Aron. “I love big guys and it would be an honor to serve you all. I would work for you all and my only payment would be the pleasure of being around all that muscle. I know it might sound lame and if you want just say no.” Aron lowered his eyes once more.

Brendon could hardly believe it. The club had a house boy the previous year, Jason Meed, but after being inspired by the club he traded in his twink physique and submissive personality for a muscle bod and dominant cocky bravado. He soon clashed with the club and had to go. Now a new one had fallen into his lamp. He was cute enough, seemed submissive enough, and he clearly loved muscle. What more can I ask for?

“It’s not lame at all,” Brendon said squeezing Aron’s bony shoulder. “Say, how tall are you and your weight?”

“I’m 5, 3, 101 pounds.”

Brendon tried to contain his inner joy. The Perfect size for lift and carry videos.

“Give me your number. I’ll call you when the club is ready to meet.”

When Brendon was finished putting the number in his phone he shook Aron’s hand, perhaps squeezing it a little too firmly considering the little guy’s grimace. The two parted ways and both were smiling as they did so.

 

Five: Aron

 

            He sat in his dorm room, half present and half absent. His body was there, yes, but his mind was elsewhere. Brendon had said he would call when the Muscle Gut Club was ready to meet him. The first day he waited with excitement hoping he would get the call that night. It didn’t come. The next day his phone rang and his heart skipped a beat. To his dismay, it was only his mother checking in. The third day classes started and he had to walk from one end of the campus to the other to reach them all. He hoped in doing so that he would run into Brendon again or some other member of the club. No such luck.

            Now as he absentmindedly stared at his computer screen he wondered Did the club not want to meet me? Was Brendon just toying with me? It hurt to think about it. His roommate, Jason Ho, sat in the room as well, earphones on and head in a calculus book. Aron had learned very little about him in the past few days, aside from the fact that he was a Biology major from upstate New York who was crazy about some band he had never heard of. He had eaten with Jason once and after getting no more than three sentences out of him decided he was better off eating his meals alone. Jason didn’t mind.

            Aron heard a knock on the door. He turned to answer, but Jason leapt from his bed and beat him to it. Four Chinese looking students, 2 boys and 2 girls entered into the room. Hugs were shared, kisses given, and hands shook as Aron watched. They spoke to Aron briefly and he was given a barrage of names he would never remember. He caught them mention a restaurant and within two minutes they were gone, leaving Aron alone.

            He had several options. He could study, continue surfing the web, go for an evening walk, or masturbate. Truthfully he wanted to do none of it. He had no test to study for and unlike his roommate he was not the type to read a textbook without a reason, though he knew he should. The web had started to bore him. He could only stand so many Facebook posts, forum threads, and funny videos. He had done enough walking to get to class earlier that day. That left masturbation.

            Masturbation was his old standby. His favorite pastime. It was a stress reliever and form of cardio. In the past year he had only masturbated to Muscle Gut Club videos. It was an obsession. He would do it now but after meeting Brendon and knowing they were so close to him he only wanted the real thing. A video wouldn’t do.

            He walked over to his bed, removed his shoes and laid down. As soon as he closed his eyes his phone rang. Aron jumped from the bed so fast he nearly fell over. He ran over to his desk and answered.

            “Hello, Aron, it’s Brendon. When’s your next day off?”

            “I have no classes Thursday.” He tried his best not to let the excitement show in his voice.

            “Perfect. The club wants to meet you. Come by at Noon. I’ll text you the directions.”

            “Ok, great. Thank you Brendon.”

            “No, thank you,” Brendon said before hanging up.

            Aron hardly slept that night. Instead he thought of what he would say to the club members and what he would do. The next day he couldn’t concentrate on his classes. His mind raced from thought to thought. What if I say the wrong thing? What if they don’t like me? God, I hope they like me.

            On Thursday at 11:30 am Aron set off on his journey. He was happy and nervous, so nervous he ate nothing that morning. He only drank a glass of orange juice. The club lived at 43 Stone Street on the other side of town. Luckily between the Campus run buses and the city buses there were trips to and from that part of town every half hour.

He took one of the campus buses which were painted an obnoxiously bright blue. It was packed with students heading to off campus housing or going shopping. Aron couldn’t find a seat so he stood in the middle making awkward eye contact with the bus driver in his rearview mirror. His short arms just barely reached the overhead pole. On sharp turns he bumped into the students next to him despite trying his hardest to stay steady. He just didn’t have the weight for it.

When he reached his stop he took a breath of relief. He felt like he was being released from a tin of sardines. The ride had only lasted 10 minutes but it felt like it had been one hour. There were no bus stops on Stone street so he had to walk the rest of the way. He took note of how nice the neighborhood was, not rich nice (He grew up in a neighborhood like that), but middle-class nice. Most students who lived off campus rented places in the poorer part of town. The Muscle Gut Club must be doing very well for themselves.  

At 11:54 he walked up to the front door at 43 Stone Street. It was a white shingled, 2 story Dutch colonial with a yard enclosed by high hedges and a fence. Aron motioned to ring the doorbell but paused momentarily. Nerves again. Surprisingly the door opened. Brendon stood in the frame filling it with his size. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of black nylon shorts, his muscle gut in plain view. His arms stood out from his sides at an angle, lifted up by his well-developed lats.

“No, I’m not psychic. I saw you walking up.” Brendon said with a smile. “Come on in and meet the guys.”

Aron took one step in the door and was hit with the strongest odor of male musk he could imagine. It smelled of pure masculinity. He stood still, briefly overcome with arousal.

“Any day now,” Brendon called from another room.

Aron quickly ran toward the sound of the voice, nearly tripping over his feet. When he entered the room he froze like a deer in headlights. All four members of the club sat in the room on two couches staring directly at him.

Edmond was wearing only a pair of red boxer briefs stretched to the limits by his massive quads and by his mammoth manhood. He was looking exceptionally lean. Aron wanted to leap forward and place his hands all over his deeply cut cobblestone abs, but he maintained his composure.

Thomas wore a white wife beater and black briefs. His fitness model physique, while the smallest of the four, was as impressive as they come. His shoulders and chest were unbelievably developed. His waist formed a perfect v-taper. Aron swooned at his Adonis belt and at the sight of his large, masculine Adam’s apple.

Daniel was seated closest to Aron. He was shirtless and wore only a pair of grey pajama bottoms. He was almost as big as Brendon and the palest of the bunch. His muscles were clearly well defined even if he wasn’t very lean. Daniels hairy chest and rugged beard gave him a sexy lumberjack appeal.

Aron couldn’t believe this was finally happening. As he looked around the room all he could manage to say was a shy “hi”.

“Guys, this is obviously the Freshman I was telling you about, Aron Ocampo.” Brendon said.

“He’s kind of cute like you said,” Thomas looked from Aron to Brandon. “In a mousey way.”

The other members nodded.

“He looks kind of frail, though.” Edmund said with an apprehensive look. “You’re not sick are you?”

“No!” Aron replied, shaking his head. “Sir.” He added.

The members snickered and shared glances with each other.

“Sir? Haha. What a polite little twink.” Said Edmond. “I like him already.” It was the first time Aron had been called a twink by someone.

Edmond stood up and walked over to him. He towered over Aron and got so close that the little twink could smell his masculine scent. It smelled good. Without warning Edmond picked him up.

“God he’s so light.” He exclaimed.

Edmond turned him on his side and began curling him with next to no effort at all. Up and down, up and down Aron went, 15 times. Then Edmond proceeded to press him overhead 10 times. Aron was in heaven.

Daniel stood up. “Let me have a go at him.”

“He’ll be nothing for you,” Edmund said as he handed him over.

Daniel pressed him overhead several times and then lowered one of his arms, holding Aron overhead one handed. He walked over to Brendon (Still with Aron overhead) and said, “You got a real small one this time.”

Brendon stood up and took Aron from Daniel and placed him on the ground as easily as if he were a doll. Aron was now surrounded by a triangle of shirtless muscle gods all towering over him.

Thomas sat on the couch smiling. “Don’t mind them Aron, they just like showing off how strong they are.”

“Someone get the measuring tape,” said Edmond. Brendon left and within an instant he was back with the measuring tape.

“Strip.” Edmond commanded Aron.

Aron did as he ordered, not wanting to displease the muscle god. He stood before them in his size small white briefs. They began to measure him all over, gaping, and snickering.

“Wow only 11 inch arms, my 12-year-old brother has arms bigger than that,” said Edmond.

“Holy shit my arms are as big as his thighs,” said Daniel.

This humiliation would have sent Aron crying anywhere else, but from these muscle gods it was a turn on. His little cock stiffened as the muscle gut club poked, prodded, and studied his boney body.

“Hey look, he’s getting hard.” Thomas pointed.

“Pull down your underwear,” Edmund ordered. Aron again obeyed.

Edmond took the measuring tape and held it next to Aron’s little cock. “Five inches and fully hard,” he said, looking around at the club.

Edmund whipped his mammoth member from his boxer briefs and held It next to Aron’s “Twice as thick and twice as long.” He smiled with pride.

“Let’s face it, though, comparing your cock to an average man’s wouldn’t even be fair, much less to that.” Daniel said as he pointed to Aron’s.

“You can lift your underwear,” Brendon said. There was a touch of sympathy in his voice. He must not realize I love it. Every minute of it.

“I really don’t care about his cock size. You’ll be fucking him, not the other way around,” Daniel said, “And I really don’t care about his looks since people watch our videos for our looks not the Twink’s.”

“Is there a point here?” Edmond asked.

“My point is. You say he wants to serve us.” He looked at Brendon. “Well that’s what I’m interested in. Will he be good at his job?” He turned back to Aron.

Now was the moment Aron had been waiting for. He had been thinking about what he would say for day and finally he was ready to say it.

            “I’m gay,” Aron began, “and I love muscle men more than anything in the whole world. I’ve watched all of your YouTube videos an even bought some of your XXX videos. I masturbate to you. I dream about you. I’ve always wanted to meet you. I know I’ll never have muscles like yours. I know I’ll never be able to compare to gods like you, but all I ask is the chance to be around you, to serve, to bask in the presence of your massive frames.”

            “I will serve you with devotion and without question. I can cook and I will cook huge protein rich meals for you to fuel your growth. I will do your laundry and clean your rooms. If your tense after a workout, I’ll massage you. I’ll wipe the sweat from your brow. If your horny you can fuck me or if you just want a blowjob just say the word. I’ll wear whatever you want me to while in the house. I will truly be your slave and you will be my muscle masters.”

            Thomas’ mouth was agape. Edmund had a devious smile across his face. Brendon looked flabbergasted. Daniel simply clapped. He looked genuinely impressed by the speech.

            “Did you have that planned or was it off the top of your head?” asked Brendon.

            “Uh, kinda planned,” replied Aron, scratching his head.

            “Get on your knees.” Commanded Edmund. Aron did so.

            The members of the club got up and formed a semi-circle around him, staring down at him.

            “Kiss our feet.” Edmund ordered.

            Aron gently kissed each of their feet.

            “That’s so a slave remembers his place.” Edmund said.

            “At our feet.” Said Brendon, cutting in.

            “Rise,” said Edmond. Aron did so as each of the members struck a front double bicep pose. “Now kiss our biceps.”

            Aron kissed each of their biceps.

            “That’s so a slave remembers why he serves,” Edmund said.

            “He serves because of these muscles,” Brendon said, again finishing Edmund’s statement.

            “You start Saturday,” said Brendon. “Be here at 9 am to start breakfast. Here’s a key, and bring some stuff to cook us dinner. You won’t have time to go shopping after you get here. You’ll be very busy.” He grinned.

            Aron dressed. The club said their ‘until next times’ and he left for the 1:30 pm bus. He couldn’t wait for Saturday.

 

Six: Edmund 

 

            Edmund Moreno stood in his bathroom flexing in the mirror. He squeezed his muscles tight and hit every major bodybuilding pose like he was standing on stage at the Olympia. He imagined the crowd cheering him and admiring his perfect physique. I can’t believe I came in 3rd at the Junior Classics last week. I had the best conditioning on stage and the best symmetry. He had stepped on stage at the Classics weighing in at 195 pounds of lean hard muscle and standing 6 foot 1 inch, but he wasn’t the biggest. The 1st and 2nd place winners outweighed him by 15 pounds and that gave them the edge. Next time I’ll be fucking huge.

            He felt a hand touch his shoulder. His girlfriend, Bianca Bui, had creeped up behind him and began squeezing his muscles as he flexed. She loved his muscles.

            “Having fun?” she asked.

            “Seeing what I need to work on. I could bring my traps up and my lats-”

            “You look perfect to me babe.”

            “Well, the judges didn’t think so,” Edmund frowned slightly. “I have a better physique than anyone on campus, but that won’t win the competition. I need to be better than anyone in the state.”

            He bent down and kissed Bianca on the lips. She was of Vietnamese decent, 5 foot 5 inches, and 119 pounds with the perfect female figure. She wore pink silk pajama bottoms and a white tank top.

            “I guess you’ll be going on a big bulk.” She said.

            “The biggest I’ve done yet. I plan on putting on at least 35 or 40 pounds before cutting.”

            “Then you won’t be doing much cardio…” She pouted jokingly.

            Edmund laughed. “I’ll always have time for cardio.” He pulled down his boxers revealing his manhood. “I’ll just have to eat a big breakfast after to make up for all the calories I burn.

            Edmond pulled off her top and cupped her firm breasts. She giggled and removed her pajama bottoms. Edmund kissed her neck while slowly pushing down her panties.

            He lifted her up and placed her easily on his cock. She moaned with pleasure as he pressed her against the bathroom wall with his muscular chest. He ran his fingers through her hair and took in her flowery scent.

            “Carry me to bed.” She said between moans.

            He grabbed her supple legs and she placed her arms around his thick neck, his manhood penetrating her deeply. They fell together on the bed. Edmund moved in her wet pussy with slow steady strokes. She grabbed his horse shoe triceps and clawed at him as he began to pound her harder and faster. Her moans of pleasure grew louder as she began to orgasm.

            “Yes! Baby! Yes!” she screamed.

            “You like how daddy fucks you?”

            “Oh yes!”

            Just as Ed was about to reach climax he pulled out a blew his load on her face. She began to lap up his warm, creamy, salty spunk.

            They lay next to each other covered in sweat. Ed’s muscles glistened in the morning light that streamed in from the bedroom window.

            “Good cardio,” said Edmund.

Bianca laughed. “Very good. I’ll go make you that big breakfast,” she said while wiping cum from around her eyes.

“Can you walk to the kitchen?” Edmund snickered.

She rolled her yes. “I’m used to it.” She got up and walked out of the room with a slight limp.

It’s hard to get used to a 9 inch cock. He patted his manhood as he lay on the bed and relaxed. He didn’t know who he liked fucking more: men or women. Really he would fuck anyone as long as he liked the way they looked. He had fucked average guys, muscle guys, twinks, skinny girls, chubby girls, Black, White, Latin, and Asian. Any warm hole for his cock. He had only had two serious relationships, though. One with a guy over a year and a half ago and the one with Bianca.

Bianca had walked up to him one night in a bar and asked to feel his arm. Ever one to show off, he struck a front double bicep pose for her. She gawked at his size, and he was smaller then than he was now. She confided in him that she had never been with a bodybuilder before. They fucked that night and had been Fucking ever since.

She liked muscle and she liked cooking. Two things that made her perfect for Edmund and the club. Several times a month she would cook for the whole club, but she only had desires for Edmund. She didn’t even have a problem with his bisexuality telling him “I don’t mind if you fuck guys every now and then to satisfy the urge so long as you use protection and I’m the only woman.”

Edmond could smell the scent of food wafting from the kitchen. He rose out of bed and put on a pair of boxers. As he entered the kitchen Bianca turned to him. She was topless, wearing only her panties. She often walked around topless when she knew the other club members were out. Thomas was at a photo shoot and Daniel and Brendon were in class. They’d be gone most of the day.

“I was just about to call you,” Said Bianca.

“Smells good,” Ed said as he sat down at the kitchen table.

Bianca began to serve him his breakfast. First she sat a down a six egg cheese omelet with 2 turkey sausage links. Edmond dove in with his fork like he hadn’t eaten in days. While he chewed on eggs and sausage she placed a plate of 3 whole wheat French toasts with whipped cream and berries and a bowl of Greek yogurt and granola in front of him. He wasted no time attacking that a well. She ate two scrambled eggs a piece of toast and a banana.

“This is great babe.” Ed managed to say between bites and mmms. Bianca beamed with pride. She loved seeing a man enjoy her cooking.

When Ed was done eating he washed the meal down with a tall glass of whole milk. He patted his distended belly. The food baby pushing out his abs made it look like he had a tortoise shell for a stomach.

“I won’t be over here much in the next week Eddy Bear,” Said Bianca.

“Huh, why?” Ed let out a loud belch.

“I’ve got a huge test coming up that I need to study for. When I’m not in class I’ll be studying at my place. Here I might be too distracted.” Her gaze left his face and moved down to his muscles.

“Already,” Said Edmond, “School just started back.”

“Pre-med,” she said, shaking her head. “It might just kill me.”

“With the money you’ll be making I guess the hard work will be worth it,” Edmund said.

“After I pay off the student loans.” Bianca stood up and cleared the dishes. She started to wash them.

“Don’t,” said Edmund.

“You’re gonna wash them?” she looked apprehensive.

“We’re going to be breaking in a new house boy on Saturday and I want to make sure he has a lot of work to do.”

Bianca stopped, and stared at him. “Is he cute.”

“I think so.” Edmund smiled. “He’s smaller than you.”

“No way.” She looked surprised. Edmond laughed. “What’s his name?”

“Aron Ocampo”

“Will you fuck him?”

Edmunds face was now serious. “Probably, but I haven’t forgotten our deal. You’re the only one for me baby.” He got up and pecked her on the lips. She looked up at him and seemed satisfied.

“Don’t work him too hard baby,” said Bianca.

“We’ve got to see what he’s made of. Make sure he’s really a submissive.”

Bianca showered and changed into her clothes. Before leaving she informed him that she had fixed his protein shake and put it in the fridge for him to drink later They parted with one final kiss. Edmund put on his workout shorts and headed to the garage gym for a heavy shoulder session. Truthfully, he was glad Bianca would be gone for a week. He wanted to use that time to get to know Aron better. Much better.

He hoisted up two 65-pound dumbbells and began to shoulder press them. With each rep he could feel his muscles becoming pumped. He concentrated on the muscle contraction as he watched himself in the mirror. In his mind he wasn’t lifting weights. He was lifting the twink, Aron, over his head again and again. His cock grew hard at the thought of Aron’s frail thin body next to his own robust hulking frame. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

 

More to come...        

 

  

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Tibo

I loved it, can't wait to read more of it :D

Very enjoyable writing too!

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dredlifter

That was great!  Looking forward to reading more. 

I like that the big guys aren't just pure assholes.  Sure, it sounds like their gonna dominate the little guy, but in a way that he will enjoy as well. 

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gingy123

Can’t wait to read what happens next! I hope the guys grow a bit bigger to their full potential! Love the domination!

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musclegin30

Seven: Thomas

            Thomas Patel was finishing up a grueling shoulder workout that afternoon. He had lowered the weight on the dumb bell shoulder press from 50 pounds to 35 pounds and was working on burning the muscles out. As he cranked out the 25th rep he watched as every muscle fiber was visible through his skin. On the 26th rep he hit failure and let the weights fall to the floor mat with a dull thud.

            He leaned over on the bench, breathing heavy. A drop of sweat rolled down his high cheek bone to the left corner of his mouth and he caught it with his tongue. His shoulders were so pumped he could hardly raise them. Feels good. 

            Thomas was not large, but he was proud of the physique he had built over the last 4 years. It was proportioned and lean and he bulged in all the right places so you would notice his hard work even if he wore ill-fitting clothes.

            He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror with a pensive gaze. His brown skin glistened as he ran his hand over his deeply cut abs. Like a brick wall. Four years ago he was an unbelievably skinny high schooler. That changed when his friend Edmund inspired him to work out. Edmund had built his body up for football and gave him some pointers in the gym. Brendon was around in high school too. He had always been tall and always a big eater, but Thomas didn’t know him well back then.

            Thomas had gained 12 pound his senior year of high school and at college orientation he and Ed discovered Brendon was attending the same college. The three hit it off over a love of weightlifting and growing bigger. Thomas wished he had gotten to know Brendon in high school. He was gay just like him and he was everything Thomas wanted in a man. When the group met Daniel Hogan, the Muscle Gut Club was born, first as a joke then a serious business. The four members established a rule: No sexual relationships within the club. This was to keep internal drama at bay and so Thomas kept his feelings for Brendon a secret.

            Still he thought about him. What could be. He thought about him now as he stared at his shirtless self in the mirror, imagining Brendon’s big arms around him; his muscle gut pressing against his tight abs; skin on skin as they shared a passionate kiss. But it’s not meant to be.

            He walked into the kitchen and made his gainer shake. Unlike the rest of the club he wasn’t a big eater. He ate a lot. Yes. But only out of necessity. His metabolism was terribly fast. Food burned in him like a furnace. He was always hungry so he always had to eat and hated it. Brendon had concocted this gainer shake to help him get the calories he needed and instructed him to drink it after working out or first thing in the morning on rest days.

            “Drink this and I don’t care how fast your metabolism is you won’t lose weight,” Brendon had told him. The shake contained 3 eggs cooked with ½ cup boiling water blended into them, 4 tbsp of olive oil, 1 cup ice cream, 1 scoop protein, 2 frozen bananas, and ½ cup full fat Greek yogurt. It was surprisingly easy to drink. Not too sweet. Thomas was not a fan of very sweet things.

            “If I drank that everyday I’d be a fat ass,” Edmund had once remarked upon seeing Thomas make the concoction, but when he took a sip he agreed it tasted good.

            Thomas’ stomach was now slightly distended by the shake, but it would go down in no time. He worked his abs every day to ensure his stomach stayed tight, despite all the food he ate. He liked planks, vacuums, and hanging leg raises. Brendon seldom ever directly worked his abs and that’s why his muscle gut stuck out. Thomas thought the gut looked good on him, though.

            Thomas walked into the living room and sprawled out on the couch. He kicked off his shoes and they fell by the wall. As he lay in the dark, eyes closed, shake digesting in him, he began to think about Brendon again. As if he willed it to happen with some as yet undiscovered psychic power the front door swung open. Brendon entered.

            “He dude,” he said, smiling. “Damn your shoulders are looking big.”

            “They’re pumped. I burnt them out with 35s”

            “Man, I remember when you could hardly lift 35s, now that’s you’re burn out weight.” Brendon squeezed Thomas’ delts playfully. “Gettin’ meaty.” He took a seat on the second couch and turned on the TV.

            “Not as meaty as you.” Thomas laughed.

            “Well, you’re not built to carry this kind of weight…speaking off…” Brendon got up and walked into the kitchen. He returned with a half a rotisserie chicken, cold from the refrigerator, and began eating it on the couch.

            Thomas loved to watch him eat. He was so manly.

            “So, how’s your love life doing.” Thomas asked all of a sudden. He didn’t know what came over him.

            “Uh.” Brendon brushed a piece of meat from his short beard. “Not getting as much action as Ed, that’s for sure, but I’m doing all right in the bedroom.” He bit off a large bite of breast.

            “I was reading an article earlier about promiscuity in the gay community,” Thomas said. “The author basically said Gay men are less likely to settle into a steady relationship early in life. He said it’s evolution. Straight people have to settle down to raise children. Gay people don’t have that need. I don’t know... He said it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I certainly I have a desire to settle down with someone. Don’t you?”

            Brendon leaned back and placed a greasy hand on his muscle gut. “Well, yeah, I just haven’t found the one yet.”

            “What would he be like?” asked Thomas.

            “He’d be smart, like you. I respect intelligence. He’d have muscle, of course-”

            “Like me.” Thomas interjected, with a laugh.

            “Yeah.” Brendon smiled, and looked at him intently.

“I guess you’d want a big guy, huh?”

“Nah, I actually like them shorter than me.” He paused as if waiting for Thomas to but in.

Shorter, Like me. Thomas didn’t dare say it a second time.

“So why the sudden interest in my sex life?” Brendon finished off the rest of the chicken and wrapped the bones in a towel.

“Just curious. You haven’t bought anyone home in a while.”

“Neither have you,” Said Brendon. “What’s going on there?”

I’m waiting for you Brendon. I really like you and I know you like me, too. I can see it in the way you look at me. If it wasn’t for that stupid club rule, I’d be all over you right now. I want you. I want you!

“I just haven’t found mister right yet either” Thomas said, letting his thoughts remain thoughts.

“And what would your Mr. Right be like?” Brendon asked.

“Bigger guy, real strong, and yet gentle when he needed to be. Also jovial and conscientious-”

Brendon guffawed and said “Like me.”

Thomas didn’t reply.

Brendon lowered his head and nodded slightly. “Well, I hope we both find Mr. Right soon.” He got up and threw the chicken bones in the waste basket in the kitchen. “Later man,” he said as he ran upstairs to his room. For a big guy he moved swiftly.

Thomas lay on the couch deep in thought. Rule or no rule Brendon and me should be together. We are perfect for each other. Rules can change. We all had to agree to it in the first place. If we all don’t still agree to it then it’s null. Thomas walked upstairs to his room.

“Rules can’t stand in the way of love.” He mumbled to himself. Can they?

 

Eight: Daniel

 

            The Gentleman handed him a flyer. Daniel Hogan took it and began to read. There was going to be a party at the Alpha Kappa Lambda house. DJ-Tekk would be doing the Music.

            “First party of the semester.” The Gentleman said. He was short with well styled black hair and a douchey face Daniel hated at first sight. “It’s going to be on point. You know ‘The Gentlemen’ know how to throw a party.”

            Lambdas called themselves “The Gentlemen”. Daniel thought it funny. He had heard many rumors about the so-called gentlemen and suffice to say he was happy he wasn’t born a girl. The Lambda’s did have the best frat house in town, though. It was spacious, relatively isolated, and had a pool. A party there would be a great start to the semester.

            Daniel folded the flyer and stuffed it in his pocket. “Thanks,” he said as he walked away. “I’ll be there.”

            “Alright. That’s what’s up dude,” said The Gentleman.

            Daniel checked his phone and saw that it was 2:55 pm. His anatomy class was at 3. Shit! He began to sprint. By the time he reached the lecture hall he was panting. His sweat soaked shirt clung to his meaty pecs. I need to do more cardio, he thought as he entered lecture hall 3, the third largest hall, and took his seat in the back of the class. The teacher, Prof. Warwick, glanced at him but said nothing. He was only 2 minutes late.

            “There are four types of tissues in the body,” Said Prof. Warwick. “Who can name them?”

Epithelial, Connective, Muscular, and Nervous. He said the answer to himself but didn’t care to raise his hand.

A girl in the front row raised her hand with enthusiasm. Prof. Warwick called on her and she said, “The four tissues are epithelial, muscular, connective, and nervous.”

“Correct,” said the Professor.

Daniel knew everything in today’s lesson. He had learned it in two other classes. As the professor began to drone on about the four tissues Daniel’s mind zoned out. He shut the professor off and began thinking about lifting weights. Pumping iron was his love in life ever since discovering it his senior year of high school. He was strongest person in his graduating class of 250 and for a long time he was the strongest person he knew. That was until he met Edmund, Brandon, and Thomas his Freshman year of college.

Edmund and Thomas were more interested in building and sculpting their bodies. Brendon was like Daniel, though. He loved lifting heavy. The muscle growth was simply a pleasant side effect. Brendon was the strongest of the group and Daniel felt like he was always chasing after him. He would reach one of Brendon’s personal records only to find that Brendon had quickly moved on and was now lifting 20 pounds more than that.

Sitting in class, now, he wanted nothing more than to be at home in the garage gym pushing himself harder than ever. He closed his eyes and began to tense and relax his various muscle groups. His pecs bounced. His biceps squeezed. His quads tensed. He wasn’t in the class anymore. He was in the gym. The sound he heard wasn’t Prof. Warwick’s voice. It was the sound of weights clanking. The scent he smelled wasn’t of student’s deodorant and perfume, but of sweat and cold steel.

The sound of giggling woke him from his daydream. He opened his eyes and saw a girl looking back at him. Sarah, was it? Or Stacy? He smiled at her. She’s hot. Real hot. Daniel could tell from her eyes that she was checking him out and he enjoyed it. Unlike the rest of the club Daniel liked women, exclusively. He’d let a guy suck his cock or muscle worship him, but he’d never have a serious relationship with one. He tried it during a bi-curious phase but it didn’t work out. He often joked to the club, ‘I’m gay for pay but straight day to day.’     

“Enjoying yourself?” the girl whispered.

“Huh?”

“You had your eyes closed and were bouncing your pecs.”

“Really. It must have been a reflex while I was napping.” He bounced his pecs intentionally but pretended not to notice. “Sometimes they just have a mind of their own.”

“Do it again.” She giggled.

He obliged her, bouncing his pecs one at a time, slow and then fast.

“You like that?” He had a cocky smile on his face.

“Oh, not really. I just think it’s funny.” She turned around abruptly.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “What’s your name?”

“Sarah… and yours?”

“Daniel.”

When class ended Sarah stood up and passed a folded piece of notebook paper to Daniel. She looked at him, smiling widely, before leaving, without saying a word. Daniel opened the paper and saw a phone number. Score. He stuffed the paper in his pocket next to the party flyer and headed home. The gym was waiting.

Daniel arrived at 43 Stone street at 4:45 pm. He entered and quickly changed into his workout clothes, red nylon shorts and a white wifebeater. He downed 5 grams of bcaas and a Beast pre-workout drink. Within minutes he felt a burst of energy.

He knocked on Brendon’s door. “I’m working out. You wanna spot me?”

Brendon opened his door. He was wearing only boxer briefs and had a raging hard-on. “I’m doing a skype show for a client right now, but I’ll be down soon.” He adjusted his cock.

“Alright.” Daniel jogged down the staircase. He loved the way his pecs bounced with every step.

Daniel warmed up with 12 reps of light weight on each of the four major lifts: Bench press, deadlift, squat, and clean and jerk. His warmup weights would have been one rep maxes for many experienced lifters. He did 265 pounds on the bench press, 325 on the squat, 350 on deadlift, and 200 on the clean and jerk.  Today was not a day to focus on a particular body part. He wanted to test his personal records on each lift.

“Alright, I’m here!” Brendon entered the garage, still shirtless but now he had a pair of sweatpants on. Daniel could still see the outline of an erection. “What have you done so far?”

“I warmed up. Did a set of 12 on the four main lifts.” Daniel was seated on the flat bench. “Now I’m resting.” He took a drink of water.

Brendon leaned on squat rack. “I love that guy I was skyping with.”

            “Big Spender?” said Daniel.

            “Real big. You know I charge $3 a minute and had me on there for 40 minutes. Dude must have jerked off three times. He had me call him names like sissy-boy and tiny dick. Then he had me masturbate and cum in my underwear. Now he’s going to by the underwear for $50. I’m mailing it Monday. You know… I don’t think my jizz has ever been to Singapore before.”

            They shared a laugh.

            “You ever wonder what they do with it?” Daniel asked.

            “They sniff it while they get off. What else?” Brendon said while pantomiming masturbation.

            “There has to be more to it. One day I should ask one of them.”

            “You know,” Brendon began. “I think a lot of them are lonely and they just want the scent of another man around them.”

            Daniel stuck out his lower lip and squeezed his eyebrows together. He had often given thought to the guys who paid for the club’s services. Especially for his services. If gaydar was real, and he believed it was, then surely they must know he was just faking. Were they really so lonely that the illusion was satisfying enough for them? After a moment’s thought he decided it really didn’t matter. A fetish could not be explained.

            “Ok I’m rested!” Daniel clapped his hands together. “I just need you for the bench and squat really.”

            The two college hulks loaded up the squat rack with 400 pounds. Daniel got under it. And rested it across his back and shoulders. Brendon got behind and extended his hands so they were on either side of his friend’s body. Daniel released the weight and went down. Brendon went down with him. At the bottom of the lift. Daniel stalled, but slowly began to rise again. He locked out at the top with an audible grunt and re-racked the weight.

            He felt Brendon squeeze his traps. “More?” Brendon said.

            “No. No. That was it. 25 more than last time.” He clutched at his thick quads and massaged them gently.

            They moved to the bench press. Daniel laid down. 265 was already on the bar.

            “Put on another 40.”

            Brendon did so. Daniel lifted the bar. He glanced up at Brendon who had his fingers just under the bar. Daniel lowered the weight and bought it up with explosive force. Wow, I’m getting stronger.

            “Light weight” exclaimed Brendon, as he grabbed 50 more pounds and racked it.

            Daniel looked at the weight apprehensively. That’s 355. Only 20 pounds less than Brendon’s one rep max.

            “Let’s do it.” Said Brendon.

            Daniel lifted the weight and lowered it to his chest. Brendon was watching him intently. He went to push the weight and the weight pushed back. Shit. He was sweating. His whole body was tense and trebling. Shit. Shit. Shit. I can’t do it…but…I have to. He’s watching me.   

            “Need help?”

            “No,” Dan snapped. “I’m just taking it slow.”

            He inhaled deeply and began to push with all his might. He reached deep within himself and from somewhere pulled out strength he didn’t know he had. The bar inched up. Still he pushed harder. The bar rose higher and higher. He could feel his pecs and arms working overtime. When he reached the top he let the weight fall back onto the rack as quickly as possible. He jumped up happy to be out from under it.

            Brendon tapped him on the back forcefully. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” 

            Daniel performed the other two lift with Brendon only watching, not spotting. He managed 425 on the deadlift, and 275 on the clean and jerk. He was feeling proud. 

            “Well, that was fun man but I’m starved.” Brendon said.

            “You weren’t even doing the heavy lifting.” Daniel laughed.

            “It’s dinner time.”

            Daniel checked his watch, and sure enough it was. He and Brendon entered the living room to find Thomas strolling down the stairs and Edmund entering the front door. They agreed on Chinese for dinner and ordered enough for 12 people, but it was just enough for 4 growing boys.

            As they ate Daniel bought up the party at Lambda house Saturday night and everyone agreed to go. Daniel wondered if Sarah would be there. Maybe I should give her a call, he though, while slurping down lo mein.

 

Nine: Aron

 

            He had been looking forward to Saturday ever since meeting the club. Now that the day had finally come his stomach turned and twisted within him. What if I mess up? He wanted nothing more than to please the Muscle Gut Club and be in the presence of all that muscle, but as he waited at the bus stop, he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. He felt almost unworthy.

            Aron caught the 8:30 bus. As he struggled up the steps carrying a rolling suitcase the bus driver looked at him with curiosity.

“Moving out?” The driver said.

“Nah.” Aron said meekly. He had stuffed the suitcase with chicken, cheese, string beans, pasta, tomato sauce, bread, spices and more. The club had told him he would be cooking dinner and he decided Italian would do nicely. His chicken parmesan was sure to impress. The bus was empty, except for one woman reading a book. Aron sat down and placed the suit case on the seat beside him. It rose higher than he did.

Aron arrived at the club’s house at 8:55. He noticed a note taped to the door and removed it. It read:

 

Wash Dishes first.

Breakfast foods in fridge and cabinet.

Wake us at 10:30 am to eat. 

           

            He removed the note and entered the house using the key Edmund had given him. It was dark, but everything looked as it did last time. I’ve got this. I’ve got this. I’m a good little slave. He repeated the words to himself, but when he entered the kitchen his heart sank. He had expected a few dishes left over from the night before. Maybe 2 for each club member. What he found was literally a mountain rising precariously from the sank. It looked like days’ worth of pots, pans, bowls, plates, glasses, and silverware. He wondered how it stood without tumbling and worried that if he touched it, he would be crushed in an avalanche. Surely this isn’t normal. This is just for me.  

            Aron removed the dishes from the sink and placed then on a towel on the floor. He washed them one by one. Much of the food had dried on so he had to work his stick-like arms until they were numb. At 9:40 all of the dishes were done. He had impressed himself.

            He then turned his sights to breakfast. The club had eggs, pancake mix, milk, bacon, turkey sausage, and bananas. He decided to whip up pancakes with caramelized bananas, a turkey sausage frittata, and bacon. The club had two tables, a small one in the kitchen and a larger one in the living room. He placed the food on the larger one along with four plates, 4 glasses, and 4 sets of silverware.

Seeing that he had only 2 minutes before 10:30, he ran up the stairs to wake the club. Four doors were closed, two on each side of the bathroom, which was open. He didn’t know whose room was whose but would soon find out. Aron stepped up to the door farthest to his left and knocked lightly. No answer. He knocked harder. No answer. He knocked harder still and thought he heard someone stir inside.

“Breakfast?” Thomas’ voice came from within the room.

“Yes master.” Aron said.

“OK.”

Thomas said nothing else and Aron approached the next door. As he went to knock Thomas opened his door and stepped out. He was wearing black boxers and grey tank that clung to his lean physique. Aron could see each of his perfectly sculpted abs.

“Just open our doors and wake us. It will be quicker than trying to do it with a knock.” Thomas said. “hm, whatever you cooked smells good.”

“Thank you, master.”

Thomas smiled. “The ‘master’ is a good touch. Edmund is really going to like that.” He ran down the stairs.

Aron opened the second door and found Daniel laying under his covers. Only a bearded head was visible but Aron could still make out the hulking frame under the thin sheets. Aron felt like he was about to wake a sleeping giant. The room was simply decorated. It had a twin bed, a nightstand, a computer desk, and a poster of Brian Shaw.  He stood in front of the bed a tapped the giant on the leg. He stirred and rose up against the headboard revealing thick hairy pecs. He stretched his arms, his cannonball delts flexed, and he yawned.

“Breakfast is ready master.”

“I hope you’re as a good a cook as you said.”

“I’m sure you’ll be happy master.” Aron stared at his masculine pecs and shoulders.

“I’ll be right down.” Daniel looked Aron up and down and grinned. He bounced his pecs teasingly. “You can go now.”

“Oh yes.” Aron woke from a trance and left the room, moving to the next door.

He opened it, only to find Brendon already awake inside. The bulked-up weightlifter sat on his bed with one leg up looking at his laptop. His room was decorated similar to Daniels, except his poster was of hafthor Bjornson, and it was slightly messier. He wore nothing but a pair of blue boxers stretched over his tree-trunk like quads.

“Hey, Aron.” Brendon looked him in the eyes and smiled jovially. “How’s it going?”

“Very well master, and you?”

“Great, just starved.” He patted his muscle gut. “I’ve been awake for an hour but decided not to eat anything because I was saving room for your breakfast. Don’t disappoint me.” He stood up and left the room without putting on any other clothes. The outline of his cock showed in his boxers. Even flaccid it was quite the sight. As he passed Aron, he patted him on the shoulder with a large strong hand.

Aron opened the last door, knowing who to expect, but was not prepared for the sight of him. He nearly fainted at the sight of Edmund lying on the bed as naked as the day he was born with his 9-inch morning wood standing up like a flag pole. Aron’s little cock stirred and began to swell. He wanted nothing more in than moment than to suck that cock. Briefly he forgot why he was there. Edmund opened his eyes and yawned. He grinned at Aron who stood speechless.

“Well, good morning slave.”

“Good morning master.” Aron couldn’t keep his eyes off the mammoth cock in front of him. He had seen it before, but now it was different. It wasn’t through a computer screen. It was just Edmund and him in the real world. Ed was the most handsome member of the club even with sleep in his eyes and a terrible case of bed hair.

“Have something to say?” Edmund said, staring at him.

“Breakfast…master.” Aron looked at Edmund like a starving man looks at a plate of food.

“Right on time.” Edmund grabbed his manhood. “You want this?” He shook it. “Don’t worry you’ll have it soon enough, but let’s not rush things. If the food isn’t good, you’ll be gone faster than you can say blowjob.”

Aron smiled, nervously. He was speechless. Edmund stood up and stretched before putting on a pair of orange boxer briefs he picked up from the floor.

“Lead the way, slave.”

“Yes, master.”

The slave and his master descended the stairs and entered the living room. Thomas, Brendon, and Daniel were seated at the table. Each was fixing his plate. Brendon had a piece of bacon in his mouth and another in his hand. Edmund took a seat surveyed the feast with a reserved smile.

“Get some milk and orange juice.” Edmund gestured toward Aron with his thick arm.

Aron couldn’t believe he had forgotten to put out anything to drink. He had thought he’d set a perfect breakfast, but what is breakfast without some milk or juice? He scurried into the kitchen and returned with two jugs, one in each hand. One by one the club members said what they were having and Aron filled their glasses. Daniel had juice, the other’s had milk.

After the club members were served their drinks, the feeding began in earnest. Aron beamed with joy at the sight of the club devouring the food he had prepared. They seemed to enjoy it, but said very little. When they did speak it was to themselves. They seemed to have forgotten about little Aron standing in the corner. In 15 minutes all of the food was gone, Brendon and Daniel having eaten the lion’s share of it (though Edmund wasn’t far behind).

“Well he can cook.” Daniel said suddenly, looking at Aron. Thomas nodded in agreement.

“Damn straight.” Said Brendon. “You done good.” He pointed at Aron, before letting out tremendous belch.

Edmund said only, “Good slave.” With a slow nod.

The club rose from their seats. They told Aron to cleanup and meet them in the garage gym in a half an hour.

Edmund was the last to leave. He beckoned Aron to him. The slave meekly approached his master. Please let me suck your cock was all he could think.

Edmund placed a balled up piece of cloth in his hand. “You’ll be wearing these in the gym. Hopefully they fit. It was the smallest size they had.”

Aron spread the cloth out to reveal they were a pair of pink briefs. He was caught off guard when Edmund slapped him on the ass and squeezed.

“Get ready for some fun.” The master leaned in as if to kiss. “You’re going to be in a video.” He swaggered away.

Aron cleaned up the kitchen and table and stripped down in the middle of the living room. There was no modesty in the Muscle Gut Club’s house. He changed into the tight pink briefs and joined his masters in the gym. Thomas snickered at the sight of him.

“I thought we were going with white,” said Brendon.

“You don’t like the pink? I thought I’d sissy him up.” Edmund replied.

“Nah, it works. Let’s get started.” Brendon clapped his hands together. 

 “These are your lines. Read them over.” Thomas said. “You can improvise a little but not too much.” He handed Aron a piece of paper with typed dialogue. It was titled “Twink Trains with Muscle Gods”.

Aron read it over three times, internalizing the lines. The way Aron understood the scene was like this: The muscle gut club is working out, admiring each other’s gains. One of their adoring fans shows up and wants to join in, asking the club if they can train him and make him grow, but he is too weak. Instead, the fan is humiliated and dominated and submits to the club’s sexual desires. The end.

The club setup two cameras on one side of the gym positioned at different angles and then they began.

 

Twink Trains with Muscle Gods

 

Four muscle gods were pumping up their muscles in the gym. A big, black, bearded one with a distended muscle gut was called The Bull. A chiseled, square jarred, brown haired one was called Adonis. A pale, rugged, long bearded one, was called Thor. A slim, lean, Indian one was called Brahmuscle.

“I’m so fucking pumped!” shouted Adonis as he flexed in the mirror. He wore nothing but boxers which struggled to contain his stiffening manhood. The veins in his arms popped out. His biceps were engorged with blood. “Feel this.” He called to brahmuscle who came over and began to feel his arm. He squeezed the hard muscle and looked at it, intently, admiring its beauty.

“Great arm, dude,” Said Brahmuscle, “must be over 18 inches now.” The Indian peeled off his shirt and began to compare himself to Adonis. He ran his hands over is deeply chiseled washboard abs. He flexed them proudly. “You’re big, but you don’t have abs like these,” he said as tapped Adonis on the stomach.

“I’m bulking,” said Adonis, “but by the end of the year I’ll be leaner than you and the biggest guy here.” He bounced his pecs and stared down Brahmuscle who responded with a pec bounce of his own.

The sound of 300 pounds of weights clanking drifted from across the room. The Bull had heard a blasphemy and cut his bench pressing short. “Biggest guy here?” he repeated, incredulous.

Thor stopped his squatting. He watched as The Bull rose from the bench. His chest and arms were pumped from benching. He was shirtless and hulking. He swaggered over to Adonis and Brahmuscle, towering over both of them. He struck a most muscular pose directed at Adonis and said, “You aint ever going to be bigger than me.” He turned to Thor and said “Aint that right?”

“That’s right,” said Thor. “I’ve been chasing his weight for years and he just keeps getting bigger.”

Adonis and Brahmuscle began feeling The Bull’s muscles. Thor joined in and it became one tangle of muscle worship. The Bull grabbed Adonis and lifted all 200 pounds of him overhead. “And don’t forget I’m the strongest one here,” he said.

The four muscle gods heard a knock at the door and turned their heads in unison.

“Who dares to disturb us?” The Bull said as he placed Adonis back on his feet.

Thor opened the door and saw a tiny living stick figure in pink briefs staring up at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” said Thor. The skinny twink trembled at the sound of his booming voice.

“I’m Sissy,” said the twink, “and I’ve come to ask your help, though I may not be worthy to be in your presence.”

“We’re working out,” said Thor, “go away.”

“Please!” said Sissy as the door closed on him.

“Here him out. He’s kind of cute.” Said Brahmuscle.

Thor open the door and grabbed Sissy by the arm with such force he lifted the little fellow from the ground momentarily. Sissy was now standing face to face with four half naked muscle gods who glowered at him.

“Speak!” commanded Adonis.

“I have come for you to bestow the gift of muscle upon me. I am tired of being small and weak. I want to be big and strong like you. I know you can help me grow. Teach me your ways. I beg you.” Sissy fell to his knees and bowed his head in respect to the superior male specimens in front of him.

The muscle gods began to laugh.

“Look at you,” said Adonis, “Your arms are the same thickness from top to bottom. How is that fucking possible. I don’t know how you can lift a fork to eat much less be able to lift a weight to grow.”

“I agree,” Said The bull, “You’re not built for it. The lightest weight here would break you.”

“Leave us now,” said Thor, “we’ve had a good laugh but now it’s time to get back to our workout.”

“Sorry little man,” Said Brahmuscle, “maybe you can take up swimming.”

As the gods turned their backs on him Sissy let out a sob. “I didn’t come this far to give up so easily.”

Brendon lunged at the twink and grabbed him. He lifted the little fellow like he was a toy and began to squeeze until Sissy screamed in pain. “You dare to defy us! I could break you in half for your defiance! Do you want to die?”

“I want to be like you.”

“Can an ant be like a man?” asked Brahmuscle.

“Give me a test to see if I’m worthy. If I fail punish me.” Sissy struggled to speak, as The Bull still squeezed. The bull dropped him when he was finished and looked at his fellow Gods.

Adonis spoke. “We will remove all the weight from the bench bar. It weighs 45 pounds by itself. That’s the lightest weight you can possibly barbell bench. If you can do it, we will train you. If you can’t we’ll have some fun.” Adonis smiled wickedly.

The Bull and Thor removed the weight from the bar and Sissy laid on the bench. He looked up at the weight with worry in his eyes, and lifted it from the rack. The weight came down heavy on his flat chest. He struggled to push it, getting it up 2 inches before it fell back down. Sissy floundered with the weight, kicking his legs. He was a pathetic sight. The muscle gods shook their head. The bull reached down and with one hand lifted the weight and re-racked.

“You fail. Now, our fun.” Adonis dropped his boxers releasing his mammoth python and waved it in Sissy’s face. The twink took it in his mouth trying his best to take in all 9 inches of it.

“Suck it good now. Like you mean it. That’s all a little bitch like you is good for,” Said Adonis. “And you thought you could be like us. You can pleasure us. No more.”

Tears formed in the corners of Sissy’s eyed and rained down his cheeks. Adonis blew his load in the Twinks mouth. “Suck it dry and swallow my godly seed.”

“My turn!” The Bull said, shoving Adonis aside. “I always wondered what it would be like to get sucked off while bench pressing.”

The Bull put 200 pounds on the bar and stripped naked. His 8 in cock stood at attention.

            “Only 200?” said Brahmuscle.

            “I don’t want to get tired before he’s done sucking.” The Bull smiled. He laid on the bench.

            “Hey you know what would be cool,” said Adonis, “If while Sissy is sucking The Bull he gives you two a hand job, haha. Are you good at multi-tasking?”

            Sissy nodded his head meekly. Adonis produced a tube of lube from a cabinet in the gym and passed it to Sissy who immediately put it on his hands. Brahmuslce and Thor stood on both sides of him with their cocks out. He took the two throbbing memberss in his hands and he took The Bull’s into his mouth. He stroked and sucked, while the Bull lifted. Adonis watched, smiling.

            The three gods moaned in pleasure. The Bull’s chest was unbelievably pumped after five minutes. He racked the weight just as he reached climax, filling Sissy’s throat with his thick cum. A moment later Brahmuscle and Thor blew their loads. Some landed on the twink’s back; some on his cheeks; some in his hair. One particularly forceful shot from Thor went over him and landed on Brahmuscle’s Abs.

            Sissy collapsed at the base of the bench. Cum dripped from his face.

            “You know guy. I think we should keep him as pet.” Said Adonis. The other God’s nodded in agreement. The circled around Sissy, who had curled into a ball on the floor, and stared down at him. Sissy seemed to shrink even smaller in that moment.

 

The End

 

            “This footage is going to be great when I edit it,” Said Tomas, fiddling with the camera.

            “Damn!” exclaimed Brendon. “You can suck a cock!” He tapped Aron on the shoulder. “Have you had many boyfriends?”

            “No, not many,” said Aron. In truth, he had had none. “I guess I’m a natural.”

            “I guess.” Brendon handed him a towel. “Here wipe the cum off.”

            Aron wiped his hands and face. It was hard to get the jizz in his hair out but he did as best he could. He would have to get the rest out when he showered back at his dorm.

            “Good acting, slave,” remarked Edmund, “Those tears weren’t in the script but were a good addition.”

            They were tears of joy master. I was just so happy I got to suck your cock.

            “Thank you master,” Aron said. “I just thought it would sell the sissy angle.”

            “Now that that’s over we’re going to have a real workout,” Said Edmund, sitting on the bench.

            Can I watch? Aron hoped.

            “You will be doing our laundry. We each have a hamper in our rooms with a laundry bag beside it. Fill the bags and take them to the basement. That’s where the washer and dryer are.” Edmund stood and passed Aron a piece of paper with four recipes. “In an hour and a half we will be ready for our protein shakes. We each take them differently. That paper tells you how to make them. You will be expected to memorize the recipes.”

            “Absolutely, master” Aron left the gym in a hurry. The sound of metal plates clanking came from behind him. He put on his clothes, and scurried up the stairs to collect his master’s clothes. His little arms received a workout lugging the bags down two flight of stairs to the basement.

            In the basement Aron discovered more than just a washer and dryer. The club apparently used this area as a storage place for props and sex toys from their videos. Aron recognized several. There were dildos, and paddles, straps, gags, uniforms from various professions including police and soldiers. He fondly recalled one video wear Edmund played a drill sergeant and Thomas, a new recruit who was forced to strip and perform pushups.

            He could have lost himself in this pile of memories but he didn’t have the time. He had laundry to do. Aron decided that he could mix the loads together to save time. He could tell whose clothing was whose by the sizes. He had two loads of colored clothes for the machines, and decided to clean what little whites there were by hand to further save time. The slave paid close attention to the time so his master’s protein shakes would not be late. They would need fuel for their growing muscles.

            After an hour and 15 minutes Aron ran upstairs. The color clothes were drying. He could hear grunts coming from the garage and wanted so much to take a peek, but he refrained. Working hurriedly, he began the protein shakes. Brendon liked his simple, just whole milk, protein, and chocolate syrup. Aron figured he must prefer to get his nutrition from whole foods. Daniel’s was similar but he used a mass gainer and peanut butter as well. Edmund like a traditional bodybuilder shake with banana, peanut butter, and ground oats in addition to the protein. When he got to the laundry list of ingredients that was Thomas’ shake, he could believe the littlest guy was having the highest calorie shake.

            Like clockwork the club entered the living room and sat down just as Aron was finishing the last shake. Aron sat them on a tray and carried them in to his hungry masters. Their muscles were so engorged with blood they all looked bigger than when Aron last saw them and they glistened with sweat. As Aron approached them, he was hit with their odor. His knees grew weak. He was overcome by the sexiness of it. The club downed their shakes in long gulps and placed the empty glasses on the tray.

            “We’re going to shower.” Said Daniel. “We’ll be expecting dinner in 2 hours.”

            “I hope it’s as good as breakfast,” Said Brendon.

            The club rose from the couches and went upstairs.

            Aron still had a load of laundry to do. Then he had to fold what was already dry. He preheated the oven, seasoned the chicken, and set two pots of water to boil before going back to the basement. He juggled the two tasks, running back and forth. He carried the folded clothing upstairs in batches while the chicken cooked. Several times he walked in on a naked club member, much to his pleasure.

            After putting the finishing touches on the meal, he set the table and called the club. The members came to the table as Aron now expected them, in tanks or shirtless. The club seemed to wear as little clothes a possible at home and Aron couldn’t be happier about it. If his cock wasn’t so small, he would never be able to hide his constant erection.

            The club dove into the meal of chicken parmesan, spaghetti marinara, parmesan garlic green beans, and garlic bread. Just like at breakfast the club said little while they ate, except to each other. But unlike at breakfast Aron remembered to put something to drink on the table: Lemonade and Iced Tea. This meal was perfect.

            When the club was finished, they leaned back in their chairs. They did not look terribly satisfied.

            “That was delicious,” Brendon said. Everyone nodded in agreement. “But it wasn’t enough.”

            Aron was shocked and hurt. He had prepared enough food for 8 people. He didn’t understand.

            “If you noticed we woke up pretty late today because it’s a Saturday” Said Edmund, “Then we spent much of it filming a video and working out. We had to get most of our calories in 2 meals and a shake. During the week the meals you cook for us won’t have to be bigger than this, but next Saturday cook at least one and a half times this.”

            Aron understood. “I’m sorry masters. Next week I will cook a meal fit for you.”

            “That’s it for today. We have a party to get ready for.” Said Edmund, “We want you hear all Day on Saturdays, and every day after your classes are over. You have Sundays off. See you Monday slave.”

            Aron walked out into the night to catch his bus. It was a great day he thought as picked at a clump of dried cum in his hair.

 

Ten: Brendon 

 

            The Alpha Kappa Lambda house was huge. Brendon had only been to it once before, and wondered why he didn’t go to more of their parties. Four Tuscan columns lined the porch. Students with red solo cups leaned against them as others chatted on the lawn. The brick façade was lit with multi-colored lights. Music blasted from inside and the house seemed to jump to the beat.

Brendon walked toward the door where two Lambdas stood to collect the $5 admission fee. Thomas was to his right, Edmund and Daniel to his left. The club was dressed in their standard going out fair. Brendon wore dark blue jeans, spotless white Adidas sneaker, and a tight baby blue V-neck t-shirt. Thomas wore black skinny jeans, black Vans, and a white fishtail t-shirt. Daniel was dressed in dark brown chinos, Clarks dessert boots, and a blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Edmund wore dark blue skinny jeans, Air Force Ones, and a dark grey tank top. 

“Two kegs in the kitchen. 4 outback by the pool. Jell-O shots in the living room,” Said a Lambda as he took the money.

The club entered into the sea of bodies.

“I’m meeting a girl here.” Said Daniel. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Go get it,” Brendon said to him. He turned to Edmund only to find he had already started flexing for a group of admirers. That’s why he wears tanks.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us.” He tapped Thomas on the shoulder.

“Just the two of us, we can make it if we try, just the two of us, you and eye.” Thomas sang. The two friends shared a laugh.   

“Want to look for some weed?” asked Thomas.

“Sure. I’m down.” Brendon didn’t smoke often but when he did, he enjoyed it. It was Thomas that introduced him to weed 2 years ago. He was connoisseur who could tell the good stuff just by smelling it.

As they walked Brendon swore he could feel Thomas’ eyes watching him. He noticed it from time to time at dinner or working out. It would be the gaze that lasted a few seconds too long or the side glance when he assumed no one was looking. Does he like me. That way? He thought about that time Thomas had asked about his love life. It was odd but then, Thomas always was the odd one in the group.

Brendon slowed his pace to let Thomas pass him. His ass and legs looked great in those skinny jeans. If he wants me, he can have me. Screw club rules.

“I know that guy.” Thomas pointed into a crowd. “He blazes up sometimes.”

“He deals?” said Brendon.

“Probably not, but he may know who’s selling here”

Thomas walked up to the guy and leaned toward his ear. The guy was skinny with long hair. He wore cargo shorts and a yellow t-shirt. Thomas whispered something in his ear that Brendon could not make out. The guy whispered something back then pointed and nodded his head.

“Well?” said Brendon.

“Out back.” Thomas placed a hand on Brendon’s shoulder. “We gotta look for Alex, a Latino guy in red and black.”

They walked side by side and as they did Brendon couldn’t help but notice that Thomas’ hand stayed on his shoulder. When they reached the backyard, Brendon scanned the party goers, a lot of shirtless guys and girls in bikinis hanging out by the pool.

“I think I see him,” Said Brendon, “Over by those trees.” Brendon’s height allowed him to see over the crowd, but Thomas was clearly struggling to see.

“Come on.” Brendon stepped forward to lead the way and Thomas’ hand slipped from his shoulder. When they were closer to the line of trees and could see Alex more clearly Thomas again took the lead.

“You Alex?” he said.

“Yeah.” Alex sat on a log talking to two guys and a girl.

“Got any on you?”

Alex looked from side to side, then rose. He pointed with his head further into the woods to an area just outside of the reach of the party lights. They followed him. Alex lifted a rock and revealed a hand full of Dime bags.

“How many you want?” Alex looked at them, never once smiling.

“Two.” Thomas glanced at Brendon and Brendon nodded in agreement. “but let me smell it first.”

Alex rolled his eyes before rising with a bag in hand. Any other dealer might have smiled at that moment, but not Alex. He opened the bag and Thomas leaned in to take a whiff. Hs nostrils flared and he closed his eyed and smiled.

“Yeah, we’ll take two.” 

“20 bucks.”

Thomas fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a $20 bill.

“Nah, I got us.” Brendon said with a smile. He paid Alex and grabbed the two bags. “You know.” He looked at Alex. “The weed guy should be the happiest guy here. Potheads tend to be really fun duds.” He patted Alex on the shoulder. Alex’s eyes considered the hand on his shoulder, then he smiled sarcastically before turning around and leaving the two friends alone.

“You know, we could steal the weed under this rock,” Said Brendon, “He just left it here.”

“Nah, there watching it. That’s why they’re sitting all the way out here.” Thomas shook his head. “We wouldn’t get far.”

“We could take them.” Brendon grinned and jabbed Thomas in the shoulder.

“Probably, but I’m not sure I want to piss off a dealer as cheerful as Alex.”

The two shared a look and then burst into laughter.

“So what are we smoking this in?” Brandon said, now serious.

Thomas reached into his left pocket and produced several rolling papers which he held up to Brendon’s eyes with his pointer and middle fingers.

“I love it when a man comes prepared.” Truthfully, Brendon preferred a bong or pipe but joints would have to do.

“I’m always prepared.” Thomas laughed.

The two found a long in a clearing further in the woods. There was a full moon and the sky was a sea of stars. Thomas deftly rolled his joint. Brendon struggled with his. It came out crooked and scrunched.

“Here, let me do that for you.” Thomas took it and fixed Brendon’s mess. Brendon put the joint in his mouth and Thomas lit it before lighting his own. The two friends smoked and rolled joints for what Brendon thought was hours but upon looking at his phone he noticed that only 45 minutes had passed. At some point they ended up on their backs looking at the stars, though Brendon couldn’t tell you how it happened.

“I’m hungry.” Brendon reached up as if he could pull a star from the sky and eat it.

“What’s new.” Thomas patted Brendon’s belly. Brendon pushed his hand away playfully and chortled. “I’ll get us something.” Thomas stood up and disappeared into the trees. He returned in short order with a giant glass bowl of Cheddar popcorn.

“Dude, you took the whole bowl!?” Brendon could hardly contain his amusement. “Did anyone see you?”

“Who cares. Here catch.” Thomas threw a kernel and it bounced off Brendon’s nose. He threw another and it hit the corner of Brendon’s open mouth. Thomas moved closer and threw another one. This time Brendon caught it.

“Gooooal!” shouted Brendon.

Thomas threw another one. This time it bounced of his chin and landed on his belly where it stayed. He held his mouth open waiting for another. Thomas knelt down and picked the kernel from its resting spot and placed it directly in Brendon’s mouth. Brendon quickly took a lick of salty, cheesy powder from Thomas’ fingers. He smiled and Thomas’ expression mirrored his own.

Thomas began to feed him kernel after kernel after kernel until half the bowl was gone.

“Aren’t you having any?” said Brendon.

“How do they taste?”

“Here, find out.” Brendon kissed him on the lips. “That’s what you want.”

“Yes.” Thomas kissed him. “Do you want it?”

“Yes.”

They squeezed each other in muscular arms and began to passionately kiss. The two rolled in the grass and Brendon ended up on top. His cock stiffened and he could feel that Thomas’ had grown hard as well. It pressed against his leg.

 

“I like your weight on me.” Thomas said.

“Oh, do you? You haven’t felt my weight.” Brendon let his arms go limp so that they no longer supported his robust torso. His bulk fell on to Thomas’ chest. He could feel Thomas push at his chest and arms.

“Nice try. You’re not moving this. I weight more than you can bench.” Brendon made a devilish grin.

Thomas smiled widely. “Don’t move. Kiss me again big guy.”

Brendon did so and began to grind on top of him as he did it. Both boys cocks were now like iron rods, throbbing, ready for release. Brendon’s felt Thomas’s hands rise up his shirt and in no time his shirt was off. He wasted no time removing Thomas’. Brendon sat up and ran his hands over his friend’s washboard abs. Thomas grabbed at Brendon’s meaty cock, holding it through his jeans.

“Let me take care of that. Then you can do me.”

Brendon closed his eyes in anticipation at his second Blow job for the evening. Would Thomas be as good as Aron? His monstrous arms hung limp at his sides as he felt his python released. Thomas began to suck with gusto. He was good, but not quite as good as Aron. Brendon blew his load in Thomas’ mouth, a smaller load than Usual since Aron got the lion’s share earlier. Thomas sat back and looked up at him. He slowly unzipped his own jeans.

“Lay back.” Said Brendon.

As Thomas lay on his back Brendon took his cock into his mouth. It was an inch smaller than his own cock, but thick. He caressed it with his tongue from balls to tip, but wasn’t sure he had done a good job. It had been years since he had given a blow job. He was rusty from being on the receiving end for so long. Thomas climaxed with a moan.

Brendon had fancied himself an alpha for some time now. His size and demeanor screamed dominance. Alphas didn’t suck cock, he had thought. Edmund would certainly never do it, and Edmund was alpha incarnate. But had Edmund ever loved a guy enough for the thought to cross his mind or did he just fuck them and leave them. Brendon didn’t feel like less of an alpha for having done the act. It was satisfying to return the favor to someone. He swallowed Thomas’ cum. He had almost forgotten that taste.

The two laid shirtless side by side for a moment in complete silence.

“I have always… sort of… imagined us together.” Brendon said finally.

“Me too.”

“But, the club rule-”

“Fuck the club rule.” Thomas rolled onto his side and looked Brendon in the eyes.

“Fuck it!” Brendon smiled. He checked his phone. “We should be heading back to the party.”

“We have our own party.” Thomas replied.

Brendon stood up and held out a hand. Thomas took it and Brendon pulled him up with a jerk. They put on their shirts and shared one last kiss before heading back in the direction of the party. 

 

Eleven: Edmund

 

            He basked in the attention. In fact, he lived for it. He fed on it. Edmund sat on a gray couch in the lambda living room in front of a large dark wood coffee table, a cup of beer in his hand. The room was crowded and he was clearly the most built person in it.

 Since he had arrived his physique had been the subject of at least 6 conversations that he could hear over the music. To some his muscles were a simple curiosity. To others they were something to admire. And to others they were a source of envy.      

            A guy asked him what he benched.

            “300,” Edmund replied, casually flexing his pecs. Their ripples were visible through the thin fabric of his tank.

            “That’s twice what I weigh,” said the guy. His eyes grew wide. “I’ve been thinking of hitting the gym.”

            “Uh huh,” said Edmund, uninterested. He could certainly use it.

            One lambda challenged him to an arm wrestling match. Edmund eyed the guy up and down and gladly accepted. The Lambda clearly worked out but Edmund was certain he could beat him. He once arm-wrestled Brendon to a draw and Brendon was a monster. Ed downed his beer in one gulp and the two competitors knelt on opposite sides of the coffee table.

            A crowd began to gather when they locked hands and a fellow Lambda held the two hands in place. “Ready. Set. Go!” said the lambda, releasing their hands.

            His challenger grimaced as he struggled to move Edmund’s arm. Edmund’s face was expressionless. His stare, icy. He decided to squeeze the lambda’s hand as hard as possible to see what he was made of. Edmund could see the pain in his opponent’s eyes and smirked. He eased up his grip, fearing he might break something. The whole time his arm had not moved. I could end this so fast, but, no, I’ll give them some suspense.

            Edmund allowed the Lambda to push his hand over a hair. A spark of hope flashed across his challenger’s face. Edmund then pushed the Lambda’s hand back, extinguishing it. The Lambda was sweating bullets and turning red. He ground his teeth and stared at Ed with determination. Edmund looked at the crowd and smiled. He then flexed his free arm.

            “You tired,” Said the muscle god.

            “No, Are you?” said the lambda through labored breaths

            “You look tired. Let me put you to rest.” Edmund slammed the Lambda’s arm on the table so hard the Gentleman screamed in pain. He grabbed his forearm and rubbed.

            “I’m sorry. I hope that doesn’t bruise.” Edmund stood up and took his seat on the couch.

            “Fuck you,” said ‘The Gentleman’ as his friend’s followed him away. Edmund heard one of them say “fucking steroid freak”. He smiled at the compliment.                  

 A girl grabbed his arm and squeezed. Edmund flexed instinctively and his bicep grew hard as a rock. The girl, half drunk, leaned in and asked how big his arms were.

            “18 inches, but I’m starting to bulk now. Trying to get them up to 19 before my next show.”

            “You compete?” she said.

            “Yeah.”

            “Wow,” she said. “Can I see your abs?”

            Edmund raised his shirt and she placed her hand on his stomach. Her eyes met his. She was a beautiful girl. At least a 7.5, Ed thought. A dirty blonde, with a lithe figure, and perky tits. Edmund knew what she wanted, but… Bianca. He had agreed to fuck no other women.

            His mind thought one thing. His cock, another. It stirred at the thought of fucking this half-drunk blond until she was weak from screaming for more. Bianca… He hadn’t felt the embrace of another girl in all the time he was with her. He had kept his word, but now...

            The girl took a sip of a drink she had been nursing and licked her lips seductively.

            “What’s your name?” Edmund asked, looking into her green eyes.

            “Stephanie, and yours, Mr. Muscles?” She squeezed his arm with a giggle.

            “Edmund.” He stared at her a moment and then said, “I have a girlfriend.”

            She looked disappointed for a brief moment, but whatever doubts she felt were not enough to impede her advances.

            “Is your girlfriend here?”

            “No.”

            “Well, I have a boyfriend and he’s not here either. So, it looks like we’re both free tonight.” Stephanie smiled widely.

            This girl is determined. She really wants this D, and I kind of want to give it to her.

            In a last-ditch effort to deter her he said, “What would your boyfriend think?”

            “He’d think he should have been a real man.” Her face was serious. “He won’t be my boyfriend much longer. I’ll be breaking up with him soon. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this but I think he’s gay and is just using me as cover, and on top of that he’s controlling and…and whatever, you get the point.”

            Edmund stared at her and brushed her hair back with his strong hand. He leaned in for a kiss and the two locked lips. I’ve been good. I can be bad for one night. Even if my cock is in Stephanie, my heart will be with Bianca.    

            They ended up in a room upstairs. Two underclassmen were laying on a bed, talking, fully clothed.

            “Out.” Edmund said, forcefully. “Now.”

            The two underclassmen ran from the room like kitchen rats when a light is turned on.

            “Oooh, aggressive,” Stephanie purred.

            Edmund grabbed her by the waist and bought he in for another kiss. He squeezed her ass. Stephanie lifted his shirt over his head and gawked at the full sight of his god like physique.

            “I wish my boyfriend was built like this.”

            “I wish my girlfriend had an ass like yours.” Edmund squeezed at it again.

            “Be rough!” said Stephanie, “Show me what those muscles can do. I’m your toy.”

            Edmund lifted her up easily and tossed her on the bed. She bounced with a giggled. The stud stood at the end of the bed ready to unveil his manhood, which was now hard as a rock. He loved to see people’s first reactions to it. Edmund unzipped his pants and pulled them down. A third of his cock was sticking from the top of his boxer briefs. When he whipped it out fully, he heard a gasp. Was that fear? Her eyes grew wide.

            “I’ve never had a guy that big before.”

            “I’ll go easy on you, baby.”

            “No, I like it rough, remember.” She spoke as if reprimanding a child.

            Edmund made a devilish grin “You asked for it.”

            Edmund removed a condom from his pants pocket and tossed it to her. “You’ll be putting that on me…with your mouth.” He crawled onto the bed and began undressing her, slowly, methodically, playing with every part of her and discovering that she was quite ticklish.

            Stephanie made an “O” with her lips and held the condom with it. Edmund placed his hands on her head and guided it down to his monstrous manhood. He entered her mouth and Stephanie slid the condom on. Edmund pushed further in, holding her head firmly, until he felt the head of his cock kiss the back of her throat. She gagged.

            “You like that bitch!” Edmund pulled her head back by the hair.

            “Yes daddy.”

            Edmund lifted her again and turned her over. He stuck his sheathed cock, well lubricated with her saliva, into her cunt. She moaned with pleasure. He pounded her doggy style. Her breasts jiggled. Her eyes rolled back. Her mouth hung open. The whole of her body shook with each forceful thrust from Edmund’s powerful body.

            “Harder,” she screamed. He obliged. She held the headboard with one hand as it banged against the wall. The whole bed shook and creaked.

            Edmund drove her to orgasm. Spasms overtook her. He filled the condom with his seed and the two collapsed on the bed. The both panted, covered in sweat from the carnal act.

            “My God,” Stephanie said, “your girlfriend is lucky.”

            “I know,” Edmund said, “and so am I.”

            He pulled the condom off and tossed it deftly across the room into a waste basket. He had imagined it was Bianca’s cunt he was pounding, that’s why he mounted her from behind, so he wouldn’t have to look at her face. I did enjoy it, though. I can’t lie.

            A gust of air hit his naked body. The room door swung open and hit the wall with a loud thud. Stephanie screamed, clawing at the sheets to cover herself. A man stood in the door. He was white, with messy hair, a slightly darker blonde than Stephanie’s, and a flabby but not fat build. There was a small scar above his left eye.

            Edmund readied himself to jump from the bed and beat the stranger to a pulp but the man called out.

            “Stephanie,” he said. There was pain in his voice.

            Edmund looked at her, confused.

            “Steven!” said Stephanie.

            Edmund made no attempts to cover himself or move. He simply laid there naked as the day he was born looking back and forth between the two, curious what would happen.

            Steven looked directly at him and scowled, clenching his fist. Then his look softened and surprise crept into his face.

            “You!” Steven exclaimed. His eyes seemed to take in Edmunds whole body.

            “Me who?” Said Edmund.

            Steven shook his head and ignored him.

            “What are you doing here Steven?” said Stephanie. “You said you didn’t want to come to the party.”

            “I changed my mind.” Steven kept glancing at Edmund. “I…I was going to surprise you.”

            “Surprise.” Edmund mumbled under his breath.

            “Someone told me they saw you go upstairs,” Steven continued. Edmund thought he could see tears form in the corner of his eyes. “I can’t believe you, you…whore. This is what you do when I’m not with you?”

            “Calm down.” Edmund said. “It was just sex. I’m not trying to take her away from you.” She’ll run from you on her own.    

            Steven raised his hand and pointed as if ready to speak but no words came out. He turned to Stephanie. “We’re through.” Without waiting for a response Steven ran from the room.

            Edmund rose from the bed and began to dress, sweat beading on his chiseled muscles. Stephanie remained on the bed, motionless, her face showing no expression.

            “Look at the bright side,” said Edmund, slipping on his jeans, “You wanted to breakup with him anyway.”

            “Not like this. I wanted it to be cleaner. No bad blood…you know.”

            Edmund nodded slowly. “See ya, you were a good lay.”

            “Aren’t you going to sit with me for a bit?” She patted the bed and smiled, innocently.

            “You wanted me to fuck you. I did. Damn good, judging by your screams. That’s all I planned to do. Sorry, but I’m not baby-sitting you.” He swaggered out the door shirtless, carrying his tank in his hand. He would have comforted her but then he would be giving too much. Only Bianca can have his cock and his comfort. Stephanie would have to settle for just the cock.

 

  

Twelve: Steven

 

            He sat in his car masturbating furiously. The parking lot was empty and dark, only a street lamp shone in the corner. Steven was angry, but he had just seen Edmund Moreno naked, in person, and had to relieve himself. Go ahead faggot. Beat-off to the guy that fucked your women. You’re pathetic. The voice filled his head causing him to grimace.

When he closed his eyes all he could see was Edmund laying there, his massive cock slumped heavily on his thigh, his thick chest glistening with sweat. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it! His shaft was going dry so he spat on his hand and continued to stroke it rapidly. He busted his nut into a tissue and tossed it out the window. Steven Hess peered into the darkness around him.

You weren’t like this before you discovered the club’s videos. The voice in his head started up again. You were a 100% straight hetero male. A lady’s man no woman would have dreamed of cheating on you. The club made you a little faggot, muscle loving faggot, who doesn’t even command the respect of his woman. Steven ground his teeth and clenched his fists.

“I am not a faggot.”

To add insult to injury Edmund just took from you the only think that could make you look straight: your girlfriend or should I say your cover.

“I can get her back.”

No. It’s over. Remember? And why would she come back to you after being fucked by that god.  

It made sense. Steven had thought about it before. The club made him this way. It was the only logical conclusion. The club’s videos were a bane on the world. How man good, respectable young men had they corrupted with their sinful videos. The flesh is weak. The mind is weaker. The club must be bought down. This isn’t about revenge for fucking some girl, this is about right and wrong.

Steven recalled his parish priest, Fr. Collins. He hadn’t been to church in years but his parents had sent him to Catholic school as a child. Fr. Collins had been a guidance counselor to him as well. The priest had told him temptation was a test and the easiest way to pass was to avoid the temptation. “What if you can’t avoid it?” Steven had asked. “Then you fight against it,” said the priest, “But under no circumstances can you let it take hold of you.”

Fight against it.

“I’ll fight the club.”

Yes. Yes. Fight the club, faggot.     

Steven started his car and drove for hours, thinking on his plans for the club. He would need help, and he needed information, but first he would sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

Steven woke in his bed, fully clothed, late Sunday morning. He had been too tired to change or even get into the bed properly. As he lay on the covers he glanced to his side and noticed a few of Stephanie’s belongings were on the nightstand. He gathered them into a bag and hung them on the door and hoped she would never come for them.

After a change and a quick wash-up, he sat down to his laptop and visited the clubs YouTube channel. He did not want to open himself up to the temptation again but he felt he had no choice. Steven intended to learn everything he could about the club members and the YouTube channel was as good a place as any to start. In the past when he watched them, he had been too busy jerking off to notice the surroundings or what the club members were saying. But now he would watch the videos with a level of observation Sherlock Holmes would envy.

Steven prepared himself a pot of coffee, got a bagel, and leaned back in his computer chair. He started at the beginning with the clubs first video and watched them in order. There were 88 videos with an average length of 6 minutes, but he refused to skip even one. I might miss something. Anytime he found himself getting too aroused he closed the window and switched to porn featuring women to which he relieved himself. Luckily for him the club’s YouTube videos were not explicit.

Watching the videos was like watching a sitcom and seeing the family’s children grow up before your eyes, but instead of growing in height they grew in muscle. The physical changes in the club were jarring when observed in such a short span of time. Over 100 pounds of muscle must have been gained by the members since the formation of the club. Brendon and Edmund grew the most. And the hair! Thomas went through several bearded and clean-shaven phases. Daniel and Brendon steadily grew hairier. Edmund at one point even had hair down to his shoulders (Steven preferred his shorter current cut, though).

There changing looks were interesting but Steven was more interested to get a good look outside of their house. He needed to know its location. In some videos a window was visible but the angle was off or the camera too far away.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled whenever the window was show “Why can’t they move closer”. Then success! In the video titled Clash of the Titans: Brendon and Edmund Wrestle there is a brief moment in which the camera zooms in on the two titans as they stand in front of the window, arms locked, sunlight illuminating their oiled flesh. Through the window Steven saw a wall of hedges and the gnarled mottled bark of a tree. He wrote a note: ‘house has high hedges. What kind of tree has bark like that, he wondered? A quick Google search told him it was a sycamore. He took a mental note of what the leaves looked like. ‘Sycamore in yard’ he wrote.

In another video titled Thomas Awakes: Muscle Boy Worships Himself he noticed a different setting. A bedroom. Could this be upstairs? The camera again caught the window. Bingo! Outside Steven caught a glimpse of bright yellow house in the distance. There are not very many yellow houses around and Steven had seen this one before. It was in a better part of town than most students lived.

Steven finished watching the videos at his usual dinner time, 7pm. He ate a tuna fish sandwich and then drove across town the club’s neighborhood. He found the yellow house and got out of his car. The sleuth peered down the street trying to see what house matched the angle in the Video. Then he saw it: a white shingled two story home with hedges and a sycamore tree. He parked down the street from it and watched hoping a member of the club would walk out.

After an hour had passed he was ready to go, but just as he started his engine a cab pulled up in front of the house. It honked and within a minute Daniel Hogan appeared and got in the car. Night was just falling and Steven knew for certain the club’s address. He smiled crookedly, and drove off.

For the next week Daniel staked out the club’s home, learning their schedules and most importantly, when the house was empty. He also noticed an Asian girl and skinny boy who came and went regularly. The girl was often seen with Edmund. Possible girlfriend. The boy, though, what was he? He came even when the club wasn’t there so he had a key, but he didn’t live there. 

In time Steven came to the conclusion that the girl was indeed Edmund’s girlfriend. He had photographed her and asked around at the Asian Student Association. One member identified her as Bianca Bui and with some stealthy following he discovered she lived in the campus apartments and worked in the apartment café, The Night Owl, late on Thursdays.

The boy was more of a puzzle. He carried bags in but always left empty handed. He came alone and left alone. He looked a little Asian, but no one in the ASA recognized him. Steven guessed he was a freshman and that he did work for the club, though what work, he couldn’t say. What he was sure of, though, was that the boy would be his way inside. But first he would deal with Bianca.

Thursday evening came and Steven strolled into the apartment café. It was a quaint place with lots of hardwood and campus pride decorations, perhaps a little too bright for Steven’s tastes. Only two other students were inside, a boy reading, and a girl eating a pastry. Bianca was wiping down a coffee maker. She turned and smiled at him. He did his best to make a miserable half smile then sat at the counter, looking dejected.

“Hi. Can I get you anything?” Bianca said.

“No…Well…I guess I could have a cup of coffee and maybe a blueberry scone.” Steven did his best to fill his voice with sadness. His speech was slow and labored. His eyes were held low. “You guys take campus meal cards, right?”

“We sure do.” Bianca grabbed a piece of paper and picked up a scone from a glass case. She handed it to Steven who took it sheepishly. She then poured him a cup of piping hot coffee.

“Thank you,” Steven said.

“No problem, that will be $3.50.”

Steven fumbled with his wallet and pulled out his student meal card. He made sure a carefully positioned pictured of Stephanie fell onto the counter when he did. He paused a moment and sighed before picking it up and stuffing it back into his wallet. Bianca took his card and finished the transaction.

Steven took a small bite of his blueberry scone and chewed slowly. He then took a sip of the coffee.

“Good?” asked Bianca.

Steven made another half-smile and nodded slightly. Then he put the scone down and took out his wallet. Now it’s time for the show he thought. Steven removed the photograph of Stephanie and looked at it intensely. He was sure not to blink so his eyes would tear up. As Bianca was turning around, he frowned and squinting causing a trickle of tears to roll down his cheek. He dramatically ripped the photo in two and then into quarters. Then he slammed a fist on the counter.

“Uh. Are you alright?” Bianca said.

“Oh it’s just my girlfriend…my ex-girlfriend. I…I…She did something terrible. I want to stop thinking about her but I can’t get her out of my head. I should hate her for what she did, but part of me still wants to love her.”

“Oh.” Bianca nodded.

“That was her picture. I had to rip it up. Every time I look at it I’m reminded of her and that…that…guy! I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about it but maybe getting it out will help me.”

“Maybe.” Bianca agreed. “I’ll listen to you. This place is dead tonight anyway.” She moved a stool up to her side of the counter and sat down.

The fish takes the bait. Now to real her in. Steven told her how he went to a party the weekend before last and caught his girlfriend sleeping with another guy. He told her how devastated he was and how he broke it off right there with her and the guy laying naked on the bed.

Bianca listened to the story with a sympathetic look on her face. Steven noticed just how beautiful she was and how nice she seemed. Edmund doesn’t deserve her.

“That’s terrible,” she said, finally. “I couldn’t imagine experiencing that. It’s one thing to suspect it or to hear about it, but to see it…God.”    

“You know this may sound crazy but I tracked the guy down,” Said Steven. “I was thinking about fighting him, but I don’t think I could beat him. He’s huge. I did take a picture of the douche bag outside of his house, though. I was going to Photoshop it and post online for revenge but never did. I was angry but I decided not to be petty.”

“That’s good.” Bianca placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “You don’t want to make enemies.”

Steven pulled out his phone. “I still have the picture. I look at it sometimes wondering why she choose him over me. You know she had turned me down for sex earlier that evening before the party. You want to see him?” Before Bianca could answer Steven had the picture on the phone and put it in front of her face. “Now tell me, your honest female opinion, does he look that much better than me?

He saw the looks of recognition and shock flash across her face. She stared at the image. Her lips quivered.

“What’s the matter?” Steven said Coolly. “Do you know him?”

“No.” Said Bianca. “I thought I did at first glance, though. That really sucks, but you’re a nice looking, good guy so I’m sure you’ll find someone else.” She turned around and began to furiously wipe the back counter. Several times her arm came up to her face. Was she wiping away tears?

“Thank you. I really needed to hear that.” Steven finished his scone and coffee in silence. His face was expressionless, though he wanted to smile something awful. Bianca avoided eye contact with him for the rest of the time he was there.

As Steven left the café he finally allowed himself to smile in the cool night air. Now it’s time for the next step. But I’ll need help. 

                                                     

 

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Ro20316

MAN MAN MAN MAN. This is awesome and the different POV makes it even more perfect.

Aron is taking his slave status seriously tho i hate how they humilliate the guy but Aron likes it. It's his kink i just hope it does not mess with his college time. 

Three guys seem nice enough and we have a total douche with Edmind but that twist with Steven will teach him something but i am afraid if Edmund ever discovers aout Steven things wont end up good for him.

Steven is gay in denial i do wonder what is next now and what would make him see that he really is gay.

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musclegin30

To everyone who's enjoying the story so far, thanks for reading. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

 

Thirteen: Edmund

            Edmund was shirtless in the gym. He had just finished curling 110 pounds for 12 reps. A clump of hair clung to the sweat on his forehead. Aron rushed forward with a towel to wipe the sweat from his master’s brow. He was pleased with Aron’s service. Every command was carried out dutifully and Aron even knew the perfect moment to perform a service that was not requested. It was like he had a sixth sense. The kid was born for this Edmund thought as Aron toweled him down.

            “Your biceps are looking exceptional today master. Your bulk is going well,” the little twink said.

            “Yeah, they are, aren’t they?” Edmund flexed and admired his arms. He loved his body. Aron was ogling him as usual. “You want to feel them slave? Go ahead.”

            Aron grabbed at a pumped-up bicep and squeezed it as Edmund flexed. He couldn’t get his tiny hands around it.

            “You truly are a muscle god,” said Aron. 

            Edmund noticed that the little slave paid him more compliments than the rest of the club and seemed to serve him more. Aron had sucked every member of the club’s cock over the past week (some more than once), but where the other members called him to do it, Aron showed up at Edmund’s door practically begging for it. Edmund didn’t mind, of course, since Aron was the best little cocksucker he had ever encountered. God we’re a lucky group.

            “Tell me slave, which one of us is your favorite?”

            Aron stared at him, clearly surprised. He made a noise with his mouth that wasn’t a word, at least Edmund didn’t believe it was.

            “Huh,” said the master, “Answer the question. This isn’t a trick. I won’t get mad. I’m just curious.”

            Aron gulped. His eyes darted. “Honestly, you.”

            “Really?” Said Edmund, his suspicions confirmed. “What is it you like about me?”

            “You…You’re the perfect man to me. I…I don’t know. You have the best body for one. Thomas is too small, while Brendon and Dan carry a little too much fat, though it works for them. Please don’t tell them I said that master. I’m not criticizing-”

            Edmund raised his hand to stop him. “I get it. What else.” He wanted some more ego stroking.

            “Well,” Aron continued, “You have the hottest face.” Edmund smirked. “I like your attitude. You exude confidence and control. You’re, uh... You’re pure alpha.”

            Edmund placed a hand on Aron’s shoulder. “You’re a good slave and later I’m going to give you a treat, but first you should go prepare my protein shake while I do a set of hammer curls. Quick what’s the recipe?”

            Aron rattled it off without a hitch. “2 cups whole milk, 2 scoops chocolate protein, 1 banana, 4 tablespoons peanut butter, and 1 cup ground oats.”

            “Good slave. Hop to it.”

            When Edmund was done with his hammer curls he walked into the kitchen, a towel slung over his bare shoulder. Aron handed him the blender of shake and he downed it without taking a breath.

            “Meet me upstairs in my room when you’re done washing this.” Edmund handed Aron the empty pitcher.

            The muscle god ascended to his room and toweled off any excess sweat. He didn’t shower, suspecting that his little slave got off on his masculine odor. He removed his workout shorts, letting his manhood breath, and stretched out on his bed to await his slave.

            “Master.” Aron knocked at the door.

            “Come in.”

            Aron entered. Edmund could see his face light up. He knew the little fellow enjoyed seeing him naked. Aron closed the door behind him and stood in front of the bed.

            “Are you ready for your treat?” said the muscle god.

            “Yes master. May I ask what it is?”

            “I’m going to fuck you,” Edmund said with a grin. “It’s time you see what this cock can do. Tell me, you ever been fucked?” Edmund already knew the answer. It was obvious.

            “No.” The slave shook his head. “But I’ve dreamed of it.”

            “Dream no more. Now strip, slave.”

            Aron removed his sneakers, size small t-shirt, skinny jeans, and briefs, to reveal his frail body. God I hope I don’t break him. He’s so small. The little twink’s cock was fully erect and the same size as Edmunds cock when soft. It bounced stiffly as he climbed onto his master’s bed.

            “Will it hurt?” said the slave.

            “Have you seen this thing?” Edmund grabbed his mammoth cock and shook it. He laughed. “I’ll go easy on you.” He picked up a tube of KY Jelly. “Plenty of this, but you need to relax, oh and you don’t need to take a shit, do you?”

            “No.”

            “Good.”

            Edmund was literally twice as big as his slave. He moved him around like he was a toy and judging by the slave’s smile, he enjoyed it. Edmund began at his slave’s boney shoulders and stroked his skinny body up and down. Edmund had seen it before, but now he studied it. The slave was beautiful in a way. Not a beauty to compare to his Adonis physique, but beautiful all the same: a beautiful fragility. Aron was the porcelain to his chiseled stone.

            Edmund spread the twink’s ass cheeks and whispered. “Don’t clench up.” He stuck his wet, slippery manhood into Aron’s tight asshole. The slave let out a moan. Edmund began to work his hole with slow steady strokes. He didn’t dare give him all of his manhood. Nine inches is a lot for the inexperienced and stone breaks porcelain.

            The muscle god held on to the sides of his slave’s torso. Strong hands running over ribs.

            “Can you go harder master?”

            “Are you sure?” Edmund spoke, while maintaining his rhythm.

            “Yes.” The twink said, in a breathless, pleasured tone. 

            Edmund thrust himself further into his slave, harder, and faster. The little body shook fiercely as Edmund’s powerful muscles pounded him. The muscle god’s sweaty groin slapping against his slave’s buttocks. Aron screamed in pleasure as Edmund filled his ass with his seed. Edmund pulled out. Cum dripped from his slave’s stretched hole.

            “Oh my God.” Aron exclaimed. “So that’s what it’s like.” He was wide eyed.

            Edmund laughed. “Yeah, that’s what it’s like.”

            The two cleaned up and lay in repose for a moment, before Edmund abruptly broke the silence.

            “Well, slave, I hope you enjoyed that little treat, but It’s back to work.”

            “Yes master, and Thank you for that experience.” Aron jumped off of the bed and put on his clothes. The good little slave darted down the stairs to continue his work.

Edmund put his hands behind his head and relaxed. He didn’t have to raise a finger. In a few hours Aron would have dinner ready, the gym swept and dusted, and the basement mopped. This is the life. He closed his eyes. 

His eyes were barely closed a minute when he was disturbed by the sound of the doorbell. Who the fuck? Maybe it’s a delivery of supplements he needs to sign for. He put on a pair of nylon shorts and nothing else. The UPS man had seen him half-naked a dozen times.

As he descended the stairs, he could see Aron had answered the door already (as expected). Bianca stood in the doorway, stunning, but not smiling. The stress of those pre-med courses must be getting to her. Edmund was happy he majored in business. That was easy work.

“Hey babe.” He said, kissing her.

“Hey,” she said, distant. “Can we talk in private?” She glanced at the slave.

Edmund waved a muscular arm at Aron. “Back to whatever you were doing.” With that the slave scurried away. Bianca eyed him as he left.

“Something wrong babe?” Edmund placed his hands on her shoulders. “You seem stressed.”

“I’ve just been doing some thinking.”

“About?”

“About us.” She looked him dead in the eyes.

“Ok. Don’t beat around the bush. What’s the problem?” He looked down at her with mild concern.

“What did you do at that Lambda party?” she said suddenly.

Why is she asking me that? She’s seen me several times since then and only once asked me how the party was and that was it. She wasn’t there, was she?     

“I drank, hung out, arm-wrestled, and talked.”

“Nothing else?” She crossed her arms.

“I flexed for some people. Hey, look. Do my arms look bigger to you?” He struck a double bicep pose.

“You look bloated,” she said. “It’s just water weight. Back to the party. You didn’t meet a girl, did you?”

“No.” He shook his head. His face was expressionless.

“Well I know a girl who said she fucked you at that party. She described your cock in detail. You know that funny little vein you’ve got that squiggles down the side.”

Fuck! That Bitch! Well Edmund, you’ve been caught. The best thing to do now is damage control. Don’t deny it. Just be honest. 

“Ok, babe, look. I fucked a girl named Stephanie at the party, but you know you’re the only girl for me.” He rubbed her shoulders with his strong hands. She started to cry. “No, babe, don’t. I was drunk. She was really coming on to me. To make her go away I just fucked her, but I was thinking about you. Don’t cry.”

“I didn’t want to believe it. I wish you would have lied so I could go on denying it” She forced back tears.

“What good would that have done. I love you and I want to be honest with you-”

“Only when you thought you were caught?” she raised her voice.

“Thought?”

She smiled. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t know the slut you fucked. No one described your cock to me. I made it up thinking that if it wasn’t true, you’d continue to deny it but…but it was true. You broke our one rule. You can fuck your little houseboy but no other women.”

Edmund wanted to hit himself. He had been played and didn’t like it.

“How did you find out?” He asked.

“Really? That’s what you care about. Who gives a shit? You just want to know so you can be more careful next time.”

Boy she’s good.

He imagined picking her up at that moment and shaking her until she answered him, but it was only a thought. He never had and never would put his hands on a woman in violence, only in love. He gazed into her eyes and smiled with his whole face. He took her hands in his.

“There won’t be a next time babe. I promise you that.” He pulled her close to him. She fought him feebly but quickly gave in as he pressed her against his bare torso. “I hated myself after fucking that bitch. I hated betraying you. I promise to stick to our agreement from now on.”

Bianca looked up at him and smiled slightly. “I can’t stay mad at you, but you’re on thin ice. Remember that.”

“Not too thin I hope. I’m so bloated on water weight I might fall right through, and I don’t have the fat to insulate me,” He said.

She giggled. And squeezed his arm. “It does look a little bigger and I think it might be muscle not water. Do you wanna…you know.”

“Aw babe. I’m kind of tapped out right now. I…”

“You just fucked the houseboy. He was kind of walking funny when he left the room.” She said. “You never quite get used to it Aron!” She called through the open door.

Edmund turned and saw no one “He’s working, probably in the basement.”

“No, he’s been listening by the kitchen door the whole damn time.”

“Should I punish him babe.” Edmund smirked.

“Please do. Slaves should mind their own business.” With that she turned and left.

“Aron!” Edmund called.

The slave appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“I suppose you heard all of that.”

“Yes master.” The slave lowered his head.

“Not a word of this to the guys.”

“Absolutely master, but may I ask you a question?”

Edmund normally wouldn’t allow it. This was none of Aron’s business, but he was curious. What would he have the gall to ask after eaves dropping on a private conversation? “Shoot.”

“Why is Bianca fine with you fucking me, but not other women.”

Edmund smiled. “Because slave, fucking you is like fucking a sex toy. You’re the club’s plaything to do with as we please. There’s nothing between us and she knows that. With a girl, though, she thinks a relationship might start. Something like that.”

“Oh,” was all the slave said. He turned to leave, but his master stopped him.

“You will be punished for eavesdropping.”

“How, master.” Aron looked scared. Edmund grinned and rubbed his hands together.

For the rest of the evening Aron did his work diligently with an ass stuffed full of anal beads that he was not permitted to remove until it was time for him to leave. Edmund checked every so often to make sure they remained inserted.

“I really have to shit now master,” Aron said at one point.

“That won’t be possible unless you have two anuses,” Edmund replied.

 The rest of the club Questioned Aron’s odd behavior, but Aron simply explained he experienced what Edmund’s python could do.

“That’s right,” Edmund said. “He experienced it really good.” He slapped his slave hard on the ass and the poor little fellow looked like he had to lay an egg.

 

Fourteen: Thomas

           He had just finished shaving the hair off his chest and abs. He had to keep it trimmed for modeling photos. The hair would obscure is perfect definition and he couldn’t have that. He hated doing it, but he was naturally hairy as most Indian men are. His agent always said “you never see gorillas on the underwear packages”. It was true. Hairless was the way of the fitness and modeling worlds, though he wondered why it had to be. A hairy chest looked so masculine and isn’t that why you work out, to build the ultimate masculine physique?

            Thomas thought of Brendon as he looked at his hairless torso in the mirror. His torso was the exact opposite. Big, undefined, and hairy, and oh so sexy. Why can’t more men like Brendon be models too? Thomas loved rubbing his hands over Brendon’s furry chest muscle gut and then resting his head on it like a pillow.

Over the past two weeks since their intimate encounter at the party they had become secret lovers. Even though they had decided telling Ed and Dan probably wouldn’t be a problem, they never did. Keeping it a secret seemed more prudent. Thomas enjoyed the sneaking around and suspected Brendon did as well. It added a touch of excitement to the relationship. Thomas’ heart raced as they made out on the couch. Would someone walk in and catch him on top of his big lover with nothing but boxer briefs and socks on? When he blew Brendon in the basement would Aron who was cleaning upstairs come down there and catch him with the cock they’ve both tasted?

The fear of being caught was intoxicating, and the two put themselves in riskier situations as if intentionally pushing their luck. One day while Edmund was working out in the Garage and Daniel was eating in the kitchen, they decided to give each other hand jobs upstairs. Daniel must have heard the sounds of pleasure because he came upstairs.

“You filming?” he asked through Thomas’ locked door.

“Yeah,” Thomas said, “a client wanted to see two of us masturbate together.” Brendon snickered in Thomas’ ear and pecked him on the cheek.

“Oh, sounded like it,” was Dan’s reply.

It really was a believable explanation. Club members had done private Skype shows together several times before. Usually, though, Thomas and Brendon had their play time when no one was home. That way they could have free run of the house.

Brendon would carry him from room to room like he was nothing. He could lift Thomas up against a wall and hold him there for an entire make-out session. By an average man’s standards Thomas was big for his height and strong, able to bench press just over 200 pounds at 160, but Brendon was something else. He was so strong (and seemed to grow stronger daily) that Thomas had to wonder if he was human at times.

Once they were fooling around in Brendon’s bed and Thomas remarked on Brendon’s arms.

            “They’re up an inch this month.” Brendon flexed his bicep right next to his lover’s.            Thomas’ 16 inch arms looked impressive when standing alone but next to Brendon’ 20-inchers they were measly. He squeezed them admiring the strength that must be within them. In that moment he wondered if this if how Aron felt all the time, just in awe of how strong and powerful muscle could make a man.

            “You’re benching close to 400 by now, right?” Thomas asked.

            “Right at it for about five reps. I gotta test my max soon, though.” He looked into Thomas’ eyes. “You wanna see how strong I am?”

            “Sure.” Thomas began to rise from the bed, thinking they were headed to the garage, but Brendon grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

            “Get on your hands and knees,” said Brendon.

            Curious, Thomas did as he was bid and got into the position on the bed. Brendon scooted over to him. “Now tense your abs.”

            Thomas did so and Brendon placed a spread hand on Thomas chiseled abs. “Now bring your legs and arms in slightly of the bed toward your body…right…like that.”

            The only thing supporting Thomas’ body was Brendon’s forearm. Brendon’s right arm was in a bench press position. His other arm clutched the bed to steady himself. With one fluid motion Thomas was hoisted into the air, all 160 pounds of him. When Brendon’s arm was straight he bought his left arm up and moved Thomas from one hand to the other and gently bought him down onto the left side of the bed. It didn’t even look as if Brendon struggled. He looked at Thomas with a grin.

            “Shit, dude,” was all Thomas said.

            Thomas had seen Brendon handle Aron in such a way but didn’t think he could do with someone nearly 60 pounds heavier. Thomas laughed to himself. Daniel’s trying to beat this. He’s got a long way to go.

            That had been 2 days ago. Now Thomas stood in the bathroom drying of his freshly shaved torso. There was no one in the house but him, though he knew Brendon would be home soon. Despite all they had done together Thomas wasn’t quite sure what they were. He liked to think they were boyfriends, but they had never fucked. Neither of them were horny all the time like Edmund was but still… They had had urges. He knew he did. Brendon must want it too.    

            He walked downstairs to the kitchen and took out three hard boiled and began to eat them as he wondered what was holding he and Brendon back. He decided to ask Brendon when he got in, hoping no one else would come home and interrupt.

            Thomas dressed in skinny jeans and a navy blue tank top. He sat on the living room couch reading his Japanese history textbook, waiting for Brendon to arrive. The minutes passed like hours and the tales of shoguns and samurai could barely hold his attention. Then he heard the door open. Brendon. He leaned to see the door.

            “Good afternoon master.” Aron said. The twink sat his backpack next to the door.

            “Hey, Aron.” Thomas could not hide the disappointed look on his face. “Didn’t think you came this early.”

            “My Chem professor was sick so he cancelled class. I just thought I’d come by early.”

            “That’s great.” Thomas lied, thinking of a place to put him out of the way.

            “Is there anything you need.” Aron looked at him expectantly.

            “I’m good for now, but a little later I’d like my room cleaned.”

            “I’d be happy to do it now master.” The Twink headed for the stairs.

            “No!” Thomas planned to take Brendon upstairs and he wanted the slave as far away from them as possible. He noticed how close Aron was to Edmund. Who knows what they talk about in private?          

            “Right now I want you to go in the basement and…” He had to think quick. “Organize the props. They’re a mess. You know, put all the costumes together, all the sex toys, all the fetish specific props.” He rummaged in a drawer next to the couch. “Here’s a marker. Label the boxes and…uh…alphabetize them.”

            The slave stared at him blankly for a moment before taking the marker. “Yes master,” he said before darting downstairs.

            As if on cue Brendon entered the room just as Aron left.

            “Hey sexy,” The mammoth stud said. His voice was deep and seductive.

            Thomas stood and moved closer to him. He looked up at his bearded face and whispered. “Shhh, Aron’s here.” He then stood on his tippy toes and pecked him on the lips.

            “We can do better than that,” Brendon whispered, and lifted Thomas up so his ass was sitting on his thick forearm. They kissed passionately as Thomas’ feet dangled. He loved how small and light he felt in Brendon’s arms.

            “I have something to ask you. Let’s go up to my room.” Thomas said between kisses.

            Brendon carried him up the stairs like a doll and placed him on his bed.

            Thomas didn’t want to waste any time getting to the point. “Why haven’t we… you know… done it?”

            Brendon looked stared at him, pensive, then his eyed darted from side to side like he wanted to look at anything but Thomas.

            “What are we to each other, really,” Thomas said pressing the issue, though he immediately regretted it.

            “I guess…” Brendon began, but seemed to change coarse mid-sentence. “I’ve known you for years, man. You’re a friend. Now you’re becoming something more… Something much more and it’s so fucking weird for me. I guess I just wanted to take it slow. Once we do it that’s it.”

            “That’s what?” Thomas asked, though he thought he knew.

            “Were a thing,” Brendon said. “I’m not like Ed. I don’t like to just Fuck’em and leave’em, even though I have. Blow-jobs, hand-jobs, kisses, whatever. They’re fun, but once I give you that It means something coming from Brendon Lane. I guess I wasn’t sure I was ready to commit to you.”

            At that moment Thomas’ mind traveled back one and a half years to the last serious relationship Brendon had had. Brendon and the guy had dated for 6 months before Brendon discovered he had been sleeping with 3 other people while Brendon had remained completely faithful. He had given himself to that guy on their first night together and perhaps he was a little naïve to think they had a special bond. They didn’t. He was just a semester fling and Brendon said he’d never give it up so easy again.

            Thomas instantly felt terrible. Why did I forget that? What do I say now?        

            “Brendon, I’m ready to commit to you,” he said.

            “I love you,” Brendon said.

            “I love you, too.”

            They kissed. They stripped. And that afternoon Brendon Lane fucked Thomas Patel like he had never been Fucked before. Thomas only wished he didn’t have to be so quiet, but there would be a next time.  

 

  

Fifteen: Steven

 

            He was reading an online article in his room. The subject was: dispelling sexual urges. Ever since he had decided to take down the club the voice in his head had ceased to taunt him, but he was still plagued with sexual urges. Steven felt like a walking contradiction: he refused to visit the club’s website though he kept lewd pictures of club members saved on his computer (mainly of Edmund); He refused to look at his collection of muscle man magazines, but continued to stare at his drawings of muscle men in various sexual acts. He hoped the article might help him.

            One must come to terms with one’s fantasies the article read. Do not act on them, though, as this can be counterproductive. Instead Research shows it is best to keep a diary of such things. Write out your fantasies and when you are done write down why you think you want this fantasy and why you know it to be wrong. Whenever you catch yourself having the fantasy again repeat the reasons why you know it is wrong to yourself ten times.    

            Steven grabbed a blank notebook and began to write one of his fantasies. He is on his knees. Edmund is standing over him, naked, lean and glistening with oil. If there was a God of muscle, he was the picture of it. Steven sucks Edmunds massive cock. It throbs filling his mouth with warm salty cum. Steven swallows it greedily and begins to worship Edmunds godly body from his neck to his feet as the muscle god flexes, seemingly growing bigger before his eyes.

            When Steven was finished detailing the fantasy, he wrote why he thought he wanted it. Because when I was younger and more impressionable the club’s videos corrupted me, giving me the subconscious desires of a faggot. He wrote it and really believed it. Then he wrote why it was wrong. Because it is unnatural and goes against all of nature. Men belong with women, not with each other. 

            Steven left the notebook next to his laptop, grabbed a light jacket since the weather was starting to get cooler and left his room. Throwing a wrench into Edmund and Bianca’s relationship was just petty revenge. Now it was time to begin the real attack on the club. Over the last month the club had consumed much of his time. His classwork suffered, but he knew it would be worth it in the end.

            He had learned so much spying on the club and had setup a detailed schedule for everyone who entered that household. If you Observe anyone long enough patterns emerge and patterns can be exploited. Steven learned that the little twink with a key did work for the club and his name was Aron Ocampo. Aron had no regular eating schedule, but grabbed a meal at the student union most days between class. After classes he caught a bus and went to the club’s house where he stayed quite late.

            Aron didn’t do much on campus but he was a member of the engineering club. Those nerds met on Thursdays in the middle of the afternoon and fiddled with circuit boards and robots. Steven had a friend in the engineering department, Joseph Bjorn, who hated two things in life, raw onions and the LGBTQ community.

            “They’re playing the victim card,” Joseph had said once, “when they aren’t the victims. We are. They are working their agenda into every facet of society, trying to normalize a lifestyle that isn’t normal. If they want to do it fine, but it should not be public, only private. Don’t you agree?”

            “Of course,” Steven had said. “It’s sick.”

            Joseph knew computers like the back of his hand and was a master hacker. He once hacked the campus website and altered every page so they had nothing but lines from Shakespeare as a joke. He was never caught and only a select few, Steven included, knew he did it. Steven hoped Joseph could help him get his hands on Aron’s key, and most importantly he hoped his friend was ready for one more hack.

           

            Steven had texted Joseph and told him to meet him by the picnic tables outside the fine arts building. They were secluded and quiet. He found Joseph already seated at the table, typing feverishly at his laptop as he often did. Joseph always typed like he was late for a deadline.

            His friend didn’t look up as Steven approached.

            “When’s it due? Next month?” Steven said, sardonic.

Joseph’s head jerked up at the question. He looked like he had forgotten he was meeting someone.

            “Oh, uh, no. This isn’t for a class. I’m setting a fucking idiot straight on Reddit. Would you believe some people still don’t get how great a president George W. Bush was?”

            “That really is a shame,” Steven said, though he cared nothing about politics.

            “So what was it you wanted to talk about?” Joseph lowered his laptop screen slightly, pushed his thick rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked Steven dead in the eyes. He had thick brown hair that needed cutting and thin face the didn’t match his pear-shaped body.

            “Some guys on campus I’ve got a problem with.”

            “What kind of problem?”

            Steven had planned out what he would say and had developed a fine script for himself but now he wasn’t so sure. He knew Joseph would disagree with the club from a moral stand point, but would that be enough to make Joseph help him? He decided it wouldn’t. He needed to make Joseph hate the club for one other reason.

            “It’s four guys,” Steven began. “They live off campus. One of them date raped my girlfriend at a party. She was passed out drunk and he was all over her. I found him and tried to get him to stop, but his three friends chased me out of the party and threated me.” He made sure to sound angry but not too irate. “The next day I told her what happened and you know what? She blamed me, said I was trying to start something and that she didn’t remember a thing. She broke it off with me, right there.” Now he put on his sad face. “I told her she was just trying to cope by ignoring the truth but she won’t hear it.”

            Joseph furled his brow and closed his laptop completely. “Damn,” he said. “How long ago was this?”

            “A couple of months. At first, I tried to get her to go to the administration. She refused. Said she didn’t want me bothering her anymore, and... I hate to admit it but the breakup’s had me depressed for a while.” Steven lowered his head and paused. “But now!” He tapped the table. “I’m ready to make those assholes pay. They hurt my girl and caused me to lose her. They can’t get away with it. They can’t!” He looked Joseph dead in the eyes.

            Joseph straightened up and looked like he was about to speak, but before he could Steven had to put the cherry on top.

            “And you won’t believe this,” Steven began. “Those guys are into some really sick shit. It turned my stomach when I saw it. Go to www.musclegutclub.com.”

            Joseph opened his laptop, but kept an apprehensive gaze on Steven. “What will I find on this website?”

            “You’ll see.”

            Joseph looked at his computer screen and at first his face showed confusion. Steven watched his eyes as he scrolled down. When the look of disgust crept onto his friend’s face, Steven fought back a smile. Joseph slammed the laptop shut. “You playing a joke on me, because I don’t find that kind of shit funny. What if someone saw me look at that shit.” Joseph looked around him.

            “No joke. Those are the guys.” Steven leaned in real close when he said it. “That’s why I need you. They make their money from that site. Do you thank you can hack it and fuck it up?”

            “Might take a while-”

            “but if you had access to their computers…” Steven said.

            “It would be easier.” Joseph finished the thought with a smile on his face. “You have a plan?”

            “That means you’ll help?” Steven already knew the answer. Joseph had taken his bait, hook, line, and sinker.

            “I’ll help, but… how did you find out about that site?”

            Steven was caught off guard. He couldn’t say he had known about it for over a year. He couldn’t say he had searched for “muscle men” online and found it. He couldn’t say he had masturbated to it a dozen times. What could he say?

            “It was something one of them said when they chased me from the party, ‘Don’t mess with The Muscle Gut Club’. I had never heard of it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I looked it up to see what kind of club it was and found the site.”

            Joseph seemed satisfied with the answer. “So, your plan…” he said.

            “Ah, yes, the plan.” Steven rubbed his hands together. “There’s a guy named Aron Ocampo…” 

 

            Steven and Joseph watched Aron enter the engineering building. Steven looked at his watch. Like clockwork. He is right on time for the Engineering Club meeting.

            Joseph frequented the engineering building often and being a technically gifted upperclassman, his professors gave him permission to use the engineering facilities anytime he wished, as long as no one was doing research at the time. Steven had asked him if he could arrange for something ‘really cool’ for Aron to see in one of the labs. Something that would keep the attention of a geeky freshman. Joseph told him about Professor Shui’s work on mech-suits for the paralyzed and the military.

            “You go set up,” Steven said. “I’ll wait for the meeting to be over.”

            Joseph left and Steven went to the D-floor lounge, just outside the club’s meeting room, a stack of papers in his hand. He waited 45 minutes and then placed himself strategically down the hall within earshot of the meeting room. When he heard the door open and several nerds enter the hallway, he began to walk towards them. Then just before reaching them he let the papers slip from his hands. Images of mech-suit schematics (given to him by Joseph) fluttered to the floor.

            Stephen let out a sigh and mumbled to himself. “Can’t hold onto anything today.”

            As expected, the nerds politely helped him pick up the papers.

            “Thank you, thank you,” he said.

            He noticed Aron look carefully at a page before handing it to him. “Pretty cool, huh?” He took the paper.

            “Yeah, I’ll say.” Aron smiled.

            “This is the room the engineering club meets in, right?” Steven pointed to the door the nerds had just exited.

            “Yeah, we’re the club.” One of the members said, with a look a pride.

            “Cool. You know this mech-suit is here in this building.”

            “Here, now?” Aron said.

            “Yeah, I was just about to go to the lab. I help Prof. Shui, the guy working on it. You guys want to see it?”

            Two club members said yes immediately. Aron looked as if he was choosing between two equally important tasks but couldn’t decide on one. He probably wants to get to the club’s house. 

            “It’ll be quick.” Steven said.

            “Alright, I’m interested,” Aron said. Steven let out a breath of relief.

            There were nine members in the engineering club and four followed Steven to Prof. Shui’s lab. The rest had class. At the door Steven turned to the four nerds and said, “there’s a small room before the main lab. The professor asks that anyone entering places their bags in a box and leaves them there for security purposes. Don’t worry I lock the door so they’ll be safe.” But what you all don’t know is Joseph has a key to that door.  

            Everyone took off their bags and left them where Steven instructed. They followed him into the lab single file like ducklings following their mother. Steven glanced back as the door closed behind them. It was up to Joseph to follow through now.

            Joseph was waiting next door. Steven told him to wait until he was sure everyone was deep in the lab before looking for the key in Aron’s bag. Steven allowed joseph to used his car to get to the club’s house. He knew it would be empty now for at least an hour. Joseph had 10 minutes to drive to the club’s house, no more than 30 minutes to get the information he needed and 10 minutes to drive back, with an extra ten minutes of flex time. Steven had to keep Aron and his friends busy for 1 hour. A prospect he found hard to fathom, that is, until he saw the lab in person. Joseph had drilled him on the lab and the mech suits but he had never seen it with his own eyes. Now that he had, he knew the nerds could keep themselves entertained for one hour. It was like something from a sci-fi movie.

            “Can we touch it?” one said.

            “Yeah. Go ahead.”

            “Can we try it one?” Aron said.

            “Uh, um, yeah.” Steven figured it would take a half an hour to get the thing on and off.

            He thought about his plan while the nerds had their fun, occasionally bullshitting an answer to their questions. So much could go wrong. What if the club house wasn’t empty or a member came home and caught Joseph? What if Joseph got delayed on the road? What if he didn’t get the key back in time? What if Aron decided to leave too soon? What if…What if…What if!?    

            “What if we all left now?”

            “Huh?” Steven looked at one of the nerds sharply. “What’d you say?”

            “I said what if we all had one. We could fight with them.”  

            “Yeah.” Steven laughed nervously. “Like Gundams.”

            After an hour Steven led them from the lab and everyone grabbed their bags.

            “Thanks,” they all said.

            “You’re welcome.” Steven was sweating profusely, having grown more nervous the longer they stayed in there. He was itching to meet Joseph at their rendezvous spot. The first chance he got He darted past the nerds and down the stairs of the engineering building to the picnic tables.

            Joseph was seated, staring at his laptop.

            “Well?” Steven said.

            “I have everything I need.” Joseph smirked.

            Steven collapsed on the bench. Relief swept over him like a summer breeze and for the first time all day he was relaxed.

 

Sixteen: Aron

 

            Aron couldn’t believe it was just over two months ago he started serving the club. Time was flying so fast, but that’s what they say it does when you’re having fun. He loved his masters and served them dutifully.

            All of the club members had gained weight and though they probably would have done it without him there Aron liked to think it was due to his cooking. It didn’t take him long to get used to feeding the growing muscle gods. Their appetites were as insatiable as Aron’s desire to please them.

            On the mornings Aron had no class he would arrive at the club house and prepare a huge breakfast: 16 eggs, a pound of bacon, a dozen sausages, stacks of protein pancakes, and a bowl of fresh fruit. There would be nothing left when the meal was over, not even a crumb of pancake.

            Every day Aron worked he would prepare the club a massive dinner, except for one day a week when the club liked to order a takeout meal. Sometimes it would be Chinese, other nights, pizza, or some ethnic restaurant.

            Aron enjoyed watching the club members eat, knowing that all the food was going to feed their growing muscles. Watching them stuff their faces made him hard (as did almost everything about them). He had decided to supplement their meals by cooking pounds of chicken, dozens of boiled eggs, and bowls of pasta and tuna salad and leaving it in the fridge for them to snack on. This wasn’t one of his duties but it soon became expected of him as the club grew used to the extra food.

            The club weighed themselves every two weeks in what would look like a strange ceremony to the outside eye. They would setup a scale in the living room and all four members would strip naked. One by one they would take to the scale and read off their weights. The members would record the numbers in a ledger with dates stretching back to their freshman year.

            “Watch out. I think I’m getting closer to you,” Daniel said to Brendon at the most recent weigh in. He was the first on the scale and now weighed 225. Up 10 pounds from the start of the school year.

            Brendon scoffed at the idea. “Step aside Dan.” Brendon stepped onto the scale. The number rose to 247. He was up 17 pounds from the start of the year. “Got some ways to go,” he said, patting Daniel on the shoulder.

            Thomas seemed very happy to hear Brendon’s weight. He smiled and clapped.

            “It’s not like you two will be competing in the same weight class anyway,” Edmund said. “You don’t need to weigh the same.”

            “That’s not the point,” Daniel said. “Not too long ago we were the same weight and then all of sudden he just exploded.” He pointed at Brendon, who was now sitting next to Thomas. “Just once more I’d like to match his size.”

            “Then you need to eat like me.” Brendon laughed. “Aron get me a chicken breast and some pasta salad out of the fridge. I’m going to show this light weight how to get big.”

            Aron left and quickly returned with Brendon’s food.

            Daniel rolled his eyes. “If I ate like you my stomach would burst,” he said.

            “Well…anyway,” Brendon said between mouthfuls, “Being my weight still wouldn’t make you as strong as me since I know that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just built different.”

            “I’ll say,” Thomas said while grinning and giving a side glance to Brendon who grinned back. The exchange of looks was so fast only Aron noticed because he happened to be looking that way. Daniel was looking at Edmund who had already stepped on the scale without announcement.

            “220,” Edmund said, swaggering off the scale.

            “What’s that, like 20 pound from the start of the year?” Thomas asked.

            “Yeah,” Edmund answered, “and up 30 from my competition, but the first 10 pounds was all water weight because I was so depleted from my prep.”

            Edmund was a true mesomorph. He gained muscle easy, and despite putting on weight so fast his abs had only just started to fade, but overall he was looking a little bloated and nowhere near as vascular as when Aron first met him.

            “Your turn,” Edmund said, pointing at Thomas.

            Thomas mounted the scale. The number stopped at 165. He was up 5 pounds from the start of the year.

            “No surprise here,” he said.

            “The surprise is you managed to gain that much.” Edmund laughed.

            That evening Aron cooked pork tenderloin, wild rice pilaf, roasted potatoes, and sautéed string beans and carrots. While Edmund and Thomas ate as usual Brendon and Daniel were engaged in an eating contest. Brendon won.

 

            Aron had sucked off every member of the club more than once. Edmund was his most frequent customer, often demanding a blowjob when first seeing Aron for the day. It seemed Bianca was pleasuring him less and less as time went on and he was picking up the slack. Edmund had an insatiable sexual appetite and produced copious amounts of cum. He needed regular milking.

            Brendon liked his blowjobs after a meal. He also liked a belly rub with them. He said it not only increased the pleasure, but aided digestion. Thomas took his blowjobs at unpredictable times. As time went on, though, both Brendon and Thomas requested his services less and less. Aron couldn’t understand it. Being the two gay members of the club, he expected them to request his services the most. They had no boyfriends so how were they satisfying themselves?                  

            Daniel liked his blowjobs after a hard workout. Aron was surprised he enjoyed them so much, being straight as he was and having Sarah to boot. Aron suspected he was a little bi-sexual or at least bi-curious. However, Daniel’s explanation was simpler. He told Aron “You suck cock better than any girl I’ve ever met and what Sarah doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

            “You mean you never told Sarah about the club master?” Aron had asked, thinking about Edmund and Bianca’s understanding.

            “Hell no. I haven’t told her.” Daniel looked as if Aron had just asked the most idiotic question in the world. “Ed lucked out with Bianca. Most girls would not be understanding of this situation” Daniel raised his hands and gestured, seemingly to the whole room.

            “Don’t you think she’ll find out eventually, master?”

            “Well yeah…and stop the ‘master’ thing for a bit I’m not Ed…but I’m hoping that by the time she finds out she’ll be so in love with the me that the club won’t matter to her.”

            He knew he shouldn’t meddle. It was not his place as a lowly servant, but Aron felt he had to say something. When he was in high school his father sat him down to teach him about women, one of his futile attempts to help his son find a girlfriend. His father had said “If a woman likes you she can handle your flaws. She may not like them, but she’ll live with them. What she can’t take is a man who lies and tries to hide them from her. When the truth comes out those flaws will be magnified 1000 times in her eyes through the lens of dishonesty.”

            Aron’s father always ended up sounding poetic when trying to teach life lessons but Aron said it more simply. “If she finds out you lied, she’ll hate you for it.”

            “Thanks for the advice, but I know what I’m doing.”

            Aron decided to say no more but just as he was about to leave Daniel grabbed his arm. His grip was quite tight on Aron’s rail thin arm, but the twink understood his master didn’t know his full strength. Daniel turned him around to face him.

            “Don’t you keep secrets?” Daniel said.

            “I do.”

            “What secret and from who?”

            “I’ve never told my parents I’m gay. I’ve tried numerous times but I always back out. I don’t think I ever will.”

            Daniel smiled, nearly laughed. “Wait long enough. They’ll figure it out on their own. You can only go so long without a serious relationship with the opposite sex before people figure it out. I’ve got an uncle, 50, never been married. He never said he was gay but everyone just knows it.” He looked Aron dead in the eyes. “As far as secrets to keep that’s not a bad one as long as it’s not eating you up inside.”

            “Well I do want to tell them.” Aron said.

            “As you should. We want the people we love to know the truth about us. I want Sarah to know about the club, just not right now.”

            “Daniel.” It was the first time he had called his master by his name. It didn’t seem to bother him.

            “Yes.”

            “Have Brendon and Thomas told their parents… that they are gay I mean.”

            “They have. Brendon’s parents hardly speak to him because of it but his brothers and sister were really supportive. Thomas’s parents were cold at first but warmed up to it, though his father can still be a real dick at times. But you know what?”

            “What?” Aron leaned in like he was about to hear the most interesting secret in the world.

            “Ask either of them if it was worth it and they say ‘absolutely’, because now they know who loves them for real and who’s got their back. Now they don’t have to hide it around them. They’re free.”

            Aron liked the sound of that. He wanted nothing more than to be as free at home as he was with the club. The irony. I’m more free as a slave to The Muscle Gut Club than I am in my own house.

            “Don’t you want to be free around Sarah?” Aron couldn’t let it go.

            Daniel stood up and grabbed Aron’s head. He held it under his sweaty armpits and began to give him a noogie. Aron could hardly breath. Daniels stench was strong from working out and not having showered yet, and Aron loved every agonizing minute of it.

            “Are you going to mention Sarah again slave?”

            Aron said a muffled, “No!”

            “No what?”

            “No master!”

            Daniel was reestablishing the order of things. They had spoken as equals long enough. He released Aron, who gasped for air.

            “I think I’ll be having one of those blowjobs now.” Daniel said. Aron immediately dropped to his knees like a well-trained animal ready to perform its greatest trick.

 

            Aron weighed himself at the club’s house one day when no one was home and discovered he now weighed 98 pounds, a three pound loss from the start of the year. He had been devoting so much time to taking care of the club that he would often skip meals. His largest meal was usually lunch in between morning and afternoon classes. On Saturdays, when he served the club all day, he might only nibble on the food he prepared for them. He wasn’t allowed to eat before them, but if anything was left he could take it. Usually it was vegetable or carbs, but never any meat. The club needed all the protein they could get.

            Edmund once remarked about his weight.

            “You can’t serve us if you drop dead of starvation,” the muscle god joked.

            “Don’t worry master,” said Aron. “I’ve always been a light eater.”

            That was only a half lie. Aron had been a light eater, yes, but not as light as he had been since his tenure with the club began. In fact, he couldn’t even recall eating that day. Aron immediately asked for his master’s permission to leave. Edmund granted it.

            “But I’ll be needing you back in 15 minutes for a rub down.” Edmund said sternly.

            Aron ran down the block to a convenience store and picked up a bag of peanuts and a granola bar, and ate them on the way back. That ought to do for today.

            Edmund had already stripped down when Aron returned and had his lotions next to him.

            Once Steven had given Daniel a massage after an intense workout. Daniel had found it so relaxing he told the rest of the club about Aron’s other talent. Soon he was massaging the club members regularly on top of his other duties. Edmund decided to take it one step further and have Aron apply his cocoa butter and vitamin E moisturizer while doing it. Edmund was getting so bulky applying it himself was a hassle yet he needed it to keep stretch marks at bay.

            Aron opened the lotion and heaped a large glob on his hand. He began to apply it to his master’s body starting down low with the legs. Edmund had well developed calves. Thomas’s were more aesthetic but Edmund’s were so robust. They meshed well with his mammoth quads, which Aron figured were nearly as big around as his waist, if not bigger. They weren’t as robust as Brendon’s but were certainly more defined. Aron rubbed them in a slow circular motions and Edmund flexed them as he did so, to tease him.

            “The muscles should be relaxed master for the best affect,” Aron said pretending like he didn’t enjoy the muscles tensing in his hands.

            “Oh, yeah, I forgot.” Edmond smirked, clearly not buying it.

            Aron worked his way over Edmund’s bubble but and up his back to his wing like lats. Of all the obscure muscles on a man the Latissimus dorsi fascinated Aron the most. They were so under-appreciated by the laymen, but no muscular physique would look complete without them. No muscle group was as prominent and yet still so ignored. Aron spent extra time caressing them. He worked over his master’s shoulders, chest, arms, and torso, enjoying it, as always, like it was the first time. To him it was like doing a different person each time since Edmund grew in between sessions. Each time he stuck out a little more here or there.

            After he was finished Aron spoke. “Master, If you don’t mind me asking, but are you on steroids?”

            Edmund looked surprised at the question. He laughed.

            “All natural Grade A beef.” His master did a front double bicep pose.

            Aron wasn’t sure he believed him, but then, why would he lie?

            “Do you have something against steroids. Imagine how big you could be on them.” Aron was imagining Edmund as a 300-pound mass monster as he said it. His little cock grew stiff. 

            “I have imagined it and believe me I have nothing against steroids,” Edmund said. “It’s just that I’ve always been able to put on muscle easily and I’m curious just how big I can get naturally. I have a hunch it’s bigger than the average man could get.”

            Aron wanted to say ‘You’re already bigger than the average man’, but didn’t want to interrupt.

            “When I think I’ve reached my natural limit I’ll jump on steroids, hgh, insulin, Deca, Tren, Dbol and anything else I can take to get me bigger. All my life I’ve wanted to be big. One day I want to be the biggest bodybuilder ever, a monster. That’s my goal and I can’t do it without steroids. I just don’t need them yet.” Edmond held his arms out and looked down at himself, glistening from the lotion, in self-admiration. “Look at how I’m growing.” He kissed his own bicep.

            Aron loved his master’s ego.

            That night Aron went back to his dorm. His roommate was out partying. He sat on his bed and masturbated furiously to the image in his mind of Edmund as a roided out freak: quads so big he had to waddle to walk, biceps like melons, and a chest so thick he couldn’t see his own 9-inch cock if he looked down. Aron’s cock erupted at the thought of growing his master that big.                            

       

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calhoun

One word:  WOW!!!!!  😋

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JGMacroCreations

yeah I'm addicted. I love all the perspectives and even the drama with the dude trying to take down the club has needing more of this story. I'm really enjoying how Edmund and Aron's relationship seems to be evolving. 

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