Confessions Of A Muscle Freak: Part 1

[muscleaddict]

Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be a professional bodybuilder? To live every single day of your life as a monstrously huge 220 lbs muscle man with biceps bigger than the average mans head? To walk down the street and have everyone stop, stare and shriek at your excessive size and freaky appearance? Have you ever imagined what goes though the mind of a bodybuilder when he’s standing on stage in front of an adoring audience, in nothing but a pair of skimpy posing trunks, plastered from head to toe in competition tan, every single inch of his body huge and pumped and exploding with ripped, carved out, superhuman muscle, hitting pose after pose after pose, making his enormous muscles expand, flex, twitch, dance and blow up to a thousand screams of approval?

 

My name is James “The Freak” Lee, I’m a 30 year old, professional IFBB, British born bodybuilder, and this is a no holds barred, completely honest, sometimes shocking reveal of exactly what it’s like inside the mind of a man who has taken his body to the absolute muscle extreme and has transformed himself into nothing short of a muscle freak. A genuine, flat out, hardcore, ripped to the Heavens, shredded to the nth degree, excessively muscular, inhumanely monstrous, superhuman sized, God-like muscle freak.

 

This is my revealing journey from the skinny teenager, who used to sneak into his older brother’s bedroom when he was home alone to use his dumbbells because he was too embarrassed to let anyone know he secretly wanted to be muscular, to one of the biggest and most monstrous muscle men on the planet, who causes gasps, shrieks and cheers of applause just from simply standing on a stage, naked except for a small, shiny, brightly coloured posing pouch.

 

From my first, humble experiences of muscle growth and the reactions I received from other people who were shocked and impressed by my growth, to possessing twenty inch biceps and thighs so big that I have to buy my pants from specialist stores and clothing companies and being unable to walk to the grocery store without having people literally stop to stare at me, or approach me to have their picture taken with me.

 

From being scared and intimidated to talk to bodybuilders at the gym, who had competed in a couple of local amateur competitions, to forming friendships with some of the biggest and most well respected bodybuilders in the world.

 

From the first time I nervously stepped on to a bodybuilding stage, wearing nothing but baggy posing trunks, and a facial expression which resembled a rabbit in a headlight, to stomping and strutting around stages at some of the biggest bodybuilding competitions in the world, in trunks which completely failed to cover up the outrageously huge, hard, muscular buttocks and had no choice but to reside in my crack, flexing my incredible, otherworldly muscle mass while contorting my face into the most outrageously arrogant expressions imaginable.

 

Before I start, I should describe what I currently look like. I’m 5”9 and 220 pounds of densely thick, incredibly pumped, freakishly carved out, testosterone pumped, otherworldly, monstrously massive muscle, and not a lot else.

 

My bull like traps are so big and pumped it’s a miracle I haven’t gone deaf. Every time I crank out one of my insane muscle popping crab most muscular poses, the half watermelon-like muscles resting either side of my neck explode up to my earlobes like they’re trying to rip clean through my freakishly thin, tan painted skin.

 

My insanely monstrous boulder delts look like they’d destroy any door frame I came into contact with. My skin is wrapped so tight around those hard dense shoulder muscles I fear one day I’ll flex too hard and it will rip. And each of my grapefruit sized Deltoids of Death are decorated with the craziest, freakiest striations. When I’m competition conditioned, I don’t even have to be flexing; I look down and the striations are just there, making me look like I’m some kind of overly muscular, lab mutated freak of nature straight out of a superhero film.

 

My pecs look like two insanely thick, full to burst balloons of flesh and beef exploding off my chest. They’re so dense and juicy they literally look like they are in battle with each other for space on my torso. They twitch, and jump, and dance and wriggle at the slightest of movements, like they have a mind of their own, and both pecs are separated by a groove so deep one could lose all ten fingers in there for a week.

 

Each of my two biceps look like softballs, which have been surgically implanted underneath my paper thin skin. When I bring my arms up and flex out a front double bicep pose, every audience of every show I compete in erupts in loud applause, cheers, and gasps. Each bicep has a freaky, snake like vein running down it, and to compliment my rock hard, marble to the touch guns, are my flat out freaky looking, horseshoe triceps, which erupt in lines when tensed to maximum effort, to match the crazy striations in my shoulders.

 

My insanely tight midsection is made up of six outrageously thick, slightly frantically shaped, wavy lined blocks of abdominal muscle, which burst through my stomach like they’re trying their damn hardest to escape from the prison of my inhumanely thin, Saran wrapped skin. All six of my incredible abs are separated by the deepest lines. The closer I get to competition day, the further my abs pop out of my stomach, and the deeper and more prominent the lines separating them become.

My inhumanely thick, insanely flared quads are so wide it looks like someone’s sprinkled magic fairy dust on two tree trunks and they’ve sprung to life. Not only is every thick, rock hard muscle on each leg separated by the deepest, most insanely prominent line to match the lines separating my ab blocks, but each muscle is splattered with the thinnest, craziest, freakiest looking veins.

And then, of course, there are my glutes. To say my glutes are thick is an understatement. A fellow pro bodybuilder once said in an interview that I was “the only white man (he’d) ever met with a bigger butt than (him)”. I won’t always be the biggest guy on the bodybuilding stage, but one things almost guaranteed, I’ll always have the biggest and most freakishly striated glutes. Not only does my arse look like two bowling balls blowing for miles out of the back of my shiny posing trunks, but when I tense and flex, my glutes shrivel up and erupt with a thousand freaky lines and striations. There are more lines on my arse than on an average train track.

Like most well known pro bodybuilders, there are a number of things that I’m famous for. I’m famous for being one of the most successful British bodybuilders of the past decade. I’m famous for my stage presence, my playful, animated, quirky posing routines, and my outrageously cocky posing, I’m famous for having one of the biggest and best asses in the business, and I’m famous for my conditioning. My flat out freaky, beyond shredded, barely human conditioning. When I’m on that stage on competition day, I’m so fucking ripped that almost every member of that audience will probably wondering whether it hurts. I always, always compete in the most insanely shredded condition possible. I won’t step on to that stage unless I’m sliced and diced to perfection, and every single body part looks like it’s been razor cut with an incredibly sharp knife. I may not always be the biggest, but I’ll be damned if I’m not the best conditioned, and most inhumanely ripped dude proudly standing on that bodybuilding stage, wowing the audience, and shocking the World with my alien-like rips and cuts. 

There are a couple of other things I am also famous for, all of which will be revealed in due course, as I reveal my story, and let you inside the mind of one of the biggest and freakiest muscle men on the planet. 

[mjtunstall34]

can't read this as it is pitch black! next time have it in bright white writing cheers

[Lukullus]

I hope muscleaddict is okay with the fact of me posting it again for everyone without the black font color:

 

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Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be a professional bodybuilder? To live every single day of your life as a monstrously huge 220 lbs muscle man with biceps bigger than the average mans head? To walk down the street and have everyone stop, stare and shriek at your excessive size and freaky appearance? Have you ever imagined what goes though the mind of a bodybuilder when he’s standing on stage in front of an adoring audience, in nothing but a pair of skimpy posing trunks, plastered from head to toe in competition tan, every single inch of his body huge and pumped and exploding with ripped, carved out, superhuman muscle, hitting pose after pose after pose, making his enormous muscles expand, flex, twitch, dance and blow up to a thousand screams of approval?

 

My name is James “The Freak” Lee, I’m a 30 year old, professional IFBB, British born bodybuilder, and this is a no holds barred, completely honest, sometimes shocking reveal of exactly what it’s like inside the mind of a man who has taken his body to the absolute muscle extreme and has transformed himself into nothing short of a muscle freak. A genuine, flat out, hardcore, ripped to the Heavens, shredded to the nth degree, excessively muscular, inhumanely monstrous, superhuman sized, God-like muscle freak.

 

This is my revealing journey from the skinny teenager, who used to sneak into his older brother’s bedroom when he was home alone to use his dumbbells because he was too embarrassed to let anyone know he secretly wanted to be muscular, to one of the biggest and most monstrous muscle men on the planet, who causes gasps, shrieks and cheers of applause just from simply standing on a stage, naked except for a small, shiny, brightly coloured posing pouch.

 

From my first, humble experiences of muscle growth and the reactions I received from other people who were shocked and impressed by my growth, to possessing twenty inch biceps and thighs so big that I have to buy my pants from specialist stores and clothing companies and being unable to walk to the grocery store without having people literally stop to stare at me, or approach me to have their picture taken with me.

 

From being scared and intimidated to talk to bodybuilders at the gym, who had competed in a couple of local amateur competitions, to forming friendships with some of the biggest and most well respected bodybuilders in the world.

 

From the first time I nervously stepped on to a bodybuilding stage, wearing nothing but baggy posing trunks, and a facial expression which resembled a rabbit in a headlight, to stomping and strutting around stages at some of the biggest bodybuilding competitions in the world, in trunks which completely failed to cover up the outrageously huge, hard, muscular buttocks and had no choice but to reside in my crack, flexing my incredible, otherworldly muscle mass while contorting my face into the most outrageously arrogant expressions imaginable.

 

Before I start, I should describe what I currently look like. I’m 5”9 and 220 pounds of densely thick, incredibly pumped, freakishly carved out, testosterone pumped, otherworldly, monstrously massive muscle, and not a lot else.

 

My bull like traps are so big and pumped it’s a miracle I haven’t gone deaf. Every time I crank out one of my insane muscle popping crab most muscular poses, the half watermelon-like muscles resting either side of my neck explode up to my earlobes like they’re trying to rip clean through my freakishly thin, tan painted skin.

 

My insanely monstrous boulder delts look like they’d destroy any door frame I came into contact with. My skin is wrapped so tight around those hard dense shoulder muscles I fear one day I’ll flex too hard and it will rip. And each of my grapefruit sized Deltoids of Death are decorated with the craziest, freakiest striations. When I’m competition conditioned, I don’t even have to be flexing; I look down and the striations are just there, making me look like I’m some kind of overly muscular, lab mutated freak of nature straight out of a superhero film.

 

My pecs look like two insanely thick, full to burst balloons of flesh and beef exploding off my chest. They’re so dense and juicy they literally look like they are in battle with each other for space on my torso. They twitch, and jump, and dance and wriggle at the slightest of movements, like they have a mind of their own, and both pecs are separated by a groove so deep one could lose all ten fingers in there for a week.

 

Each of my two biceps look like softballs, which have been surgically implanted underneath my paper thin skin. When I bring my arms up and flex out a front double bicep pose, every audience of every show I compete in erupts in loud applause, cheers, and gasps. Each bicep has a freaky, snake like vein running down it, and to compliment my rock hard, marble to the touch guns, are my flat out freaky looking, horseshoe triceps, which erupt in lines when tensed to maximum effort, to match the crazy striations in my shoulders.

 

My insanely tight midsection is made up of six outrageously thick, slightly frantically shaped, wavy lined blocks of abdominal muscle, which burst through my stomach like they’re trying their damn hardest to escape from the prison of my inhumanely thin, Saran wrapped skin. All six of my incredible abs are separated by the deepest lines. The closer I get to competition day, the further my abs pop out of my stomach, and the deeper and more prominent the lines separating them become.

My inhumanely thick, insanely flared quads are so wide it looks like someone’s sprinkled magic fairy dust on two tree trunks and they’ve sprung to life. Not only is every thick, rock hard muscle on each leg separated by the deepest, most insanely prominent line to match the lines separating my ab blocks, but each muscle is splattered with the thinnest, craziest, freakiest looking veins.

And then, of course, there are my glutes. To say my glutes are thick is an understatement. A fellow pro bodybuilder once said in an interview that I was “the only white man (he’d) ever met with a bigger butt than (him)”. I won’t always be the biggest guy on the bodybuilding stage, but one things almost guaranteed, I’ll always have the biggest and most freakishly striated glutes. Not only does my arse look like two bowling balls blowing for miles out of the back of my shiny posing trunks, but when I tense and flex, my glutes shrivel up and erupt with a thousand freaky lines and striations. There are more lines on my arse than on an average train track.

Like most well known pro bodybuilders, there are a number of things that I’m famous for. I’m famous for being one of the most successful British bodybuilders of the past decade. I’m famous for my stage presence, my playful, animated, quirky posing routines, and my outrageously cocky posing, I’m famous for having one of the biggest and best asses in the business, and I’m famous for my conditioning. My flat out freaky, beyond shredded, barely human conditioning. When I’m on that stage on competition day, I’m so fucking ripped that almost every member of that audience will probably wondering whether it hurts. I always, always compete in the most insanely shredded condition possible. I won’t step on to that stage unless I’m sliced and diced to perfection, and every single body part looks like it’s been razor cut with an incredibly sharp knife. I may not always be the biggest, but I’ll be damned if I’m not the best conditioned, and most inhumanely ripped dude proudly standing on that bodybuilding stage, wowing the audience, and shocking the World with my alien-like rips and cuts. 

There are a couple of other things I am also famous for, all of which will be revealed in due course, as I reveal my story, and let you inside the mind of one of the biggest and freakiest muscle men on the planet. 

 

[Dentistclark]

Oh I want to hear more! Your description of this guy is awesome! Don't be too long with the next instalment please xx

[muscleaddict]

Thanks for the feedback on this, and no, don't mind you re-posting! I wrote this story a while ago now and decided not to continue with it, but I've written a few others since which I might post on here.