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Dylan’s Muscle Growth

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LORUS

 

My name is Dylan. Dylan Mass. Can you actually believe that’s my surname? What were my parents thinking? My dad took part in some secret government experiment back in the early ‘90s and changed his surname from ‘Grady’ to ‘Mass’ in anticipation of “big changes” to come. Alas, the experiment was a failure. Or so the powers-that-be initially thought. One hundred men signed up for the trial of this serum connected to Area 51, or some shit like that. I don’t have all the details, as all records of the program were destroyed when the secret facility “accidentally” burned down. My dad, along with ninety-nine other suckers, were told their bodies would be transformed into supermen: Metazoans, to be exact. But it never happened. The 100 men went their separate ways and everything was forgotten over time. Until I and several dozen others were born some years later. And now most of us are in our late teens or early twenties, and things were very different for us.

Before I continue my story, let me explain what Metazoans are. We’re super-HUGE bodybuilders, one and all. Of coure, we’re not all exactly the same. This is determined by when our genetic gifts passed on by our gay fathers – yup, you heard me – actually kick in. The guys who develop early into puberty have all that extra adolescent growth hormone to help them grow not only massive muscles, but reach huge heights, too. There’s one guy in America, Ronny Fortuna, who is over 12-feet tall, and weighs over 5000 lbs. He’s the biggest documented Metazoan in the world. Huge, yes, but it’s not just about height versus weight and the overall distribution of muscle mass around the body. It’s got to do with muscle density. That’s what all we growth-freaks focus on with our eating and training, as well as how much Metazenic activity is happening in our bodies’ cells.

The lucky ones – like me and only two others in the world – were late bloomers. Sure, we went through adolescence like any other bloke, but we knew we were special because we were naturally big and athletic from late childhood onwards. But our heights developed more or less just beyond the natural threshold, so all three of us are pretty much of equal height . And, like all Metazoans, we were encouraged – with help from the Cyrus Redfern Institute of Metazenic Research – to bodybuild like fucking crazy, so that when our Metazenic genes finally kicked in post-puberty, our muscle gains would be crazy. I stopped gaining height when I turned 18. 6 feet 6 inches is really a terrific height for a bodybuilder. I may not be anywhere near Ronny Fortuna’s weight. But I’m half the height he is and, well... let me start at the beginning. Lots of good stuff here. And it’ll have you cumming like a fucking rutting bull, I guarantee it.

 

So back then I stopped gaining height at 18. Which was fine. It meant that I could concentrate on packing on as much muscle as possible, which to guys like me, really is to grow without limit. The feeling of my muscles getting bigger and bigger and bigger with no end in sight, makes me want to jizz just by thinking about it. Oh man, if only you normals could live my life.

 

Once the height increases stopped, I really began to fill out. I celebrated my 18th birthday at a special ceremony hosted by the good folks at the Redfern Institute. Cyrus Redfern came out of hiding three years before this, when the government approached him to not exactly re-initiate the program he’d designed that everyone thought had utterly failed, but to create a facility where the gay sons of the gay men who partook of the original experiment could now be monitored and studied. But it’s not like we’re lab rats or anything. We’re not locked in cages and prodded with sticks or nothing. We actually have every luxury afforded to us. Redfern and his team are particularly interested in me and the other two who no longer gain height, but seem to grow bigger, stronger and denser muscles as if by mental will alone. Daniel – from Sweden –  weighs about the same as I did back then, but my pecs are way­ bigger than Daniel’s, which got him miffed every so often, when I’d beat his bench press record, sometimes with just one arm, heh heh heh. I will admit to being an upper-body growth freak, and although my legs are pretty well-developed, I tend to concentrate on growing my upper body as much as possible. I’m the bustiest bodybuilder on the planet, even “out-peccing” the 7- and 8-footers, who continue to gain height proportionate to their increases in mass, so it looks like they’re not really filling out as much as myself, Daniel and Flex.

 

Flex is the baby of the three. 18 years-old now, but stopped gaining height when he was fifteen, reaching a respectable 6 feet 3 inches. He was bodybuilding near-constantly, even dropping out of school. There was no need for us to get smart. Everything we’d ever need monetarily would be provided by the Redfern Institute, so we could concentrate on being big dumb muscle-jocks building our bodies to godlike prortions and beyond. Flex doesn’t have the mass of me or Daniel, but his cock is fucking enormous. I love to get fucked by it as much as possible, because being fucked helps me to concentrate on training harder and getting huge beyond belief. In fact, Flex spends more time fucking us other “hugies” – sometimes even during our training sessions – than actually concentrating 500% on his own bodybuilding. Musky muscle-sex in a Redfern-facilitated gym is one of the best things ever. Even my gorgeous male model boyfriend Cole gets in on the action. He’s not a bodybuilder, and has no plans to ever take it up. He’s not Metazenic, but is a respectable 6 feet tall and a slender 145 lbs. His weight tends to fluctuate, though. And that’s my fault. But I’ll get to that later.

 

A week after my 18th birthday, I noticed that I wasn’t gaining further muscle mass. I’d been recently measured, in awe of my 48-inch arms, 103-inch chest, taut 34 waist, mammoth 60-inch thighs and 32-inch calves. The Institute developed some amazing new training equipment as a present for my birthday, plus refinements to the Enerflex serum originally given to our fathers, only it didn’t work on them but instead passed into their semen, so that when they impregnated our mothers... well you get the idea. Enerflex helps us to grow in the same way steroids work on regular 'mortal' bodybuilders. Except with us the growth is more dramatic. Enerflex used to work pretty fast, actually increasing our mass in just minutes. But that led to uncomfortable skin-tightening – and in extreme but rare cases – actual tearing. The formula was refined and now it’s a slow-release metabolic catalyst. It also makes our skin more elastic, so we don’t get stretch marks or tearing.

Redfern provided me a decent dose of Enerflex for my birthday, so I could put the new machines to the test. Using powerful electromagnets to provide the resistance where normal gym iron simply couldn’t give muscle-gods like us the workouts we deserved, I soon had their gears grinding and wailing as I pushed the machines to their limit. I broke all of my lifting records and grew ENORMOUS in just two hours, bursting out of my gym clothes until I was fuckin’ naked in front of my parents, younger step-brothers (non-Metazoans), as well as the onlooking team of understudies under Redfern’s tuition. It’s fine. My parents are really open-minded about this sort of thing because they accept and encourage me to become an even more exceptional son. My step-bros, whom my step-mum had prior to marrying my father are just typical averagely-built teenagers. Bud, the youngest, is into video-games and nothing but. He has no interest in getting a girlfriend, whereas Stevie is a bit of a slut and goes through girls like tenpins, which is his thing. Even though we’re not related, he has the same blonde hair, blue eyes, and angelic dimples as I do, so we could pass as biological brothers. Only I’m fifteen times his bodyweight, and it’s all fuckin’ muscle. I love my family, but enough about them.

 

I packed on 150+ lbs of muscle, that day, much to my delight. I was a massive, bulging jock of hugeness. My veins looked like they were going to burst out of my skin as I flexed and growled and cockily displayed my massive size to all those staring in shock at my growth.

“Well done, Dylan,” said Doctor Redfern, but he didn’t mind us calling him Uncle Cyrus. “That’s your most impessive growth spurt yet. And on your 18th birthday, too.” Laser scanners built into the gym-cum-lab took my measurements with ease. My fuckin’ gorgeously ballooning muscle-chest, had increased in part thanks to my birthday workout from 103 mind-blowing inches, to 116 inches. I was huge, but it simply wasn’t enough. I growled like the hulk, flexing my muscles harder and harder, my 16-inch cock swelling and hardening with every pose I struck. One of Redfern’s team was there with a vial to collect my precum for analysis, but Uncle Cyrus  regularly drank the fluids of his muscle-god progeny, as it kept him feeling young and vital and full of vigor. My dad also took it in capsule form, as it helped him grow back his receding hairline, overcome impotency, and get my step-mum up the duff at 39 with a new half-sibling. I guess I’m a walking Wellbeing Clinic. Back to my growth spurt:

“It’s impressive, yeah. But I want more. Much more. Can’t you give me a fuckin’ overdose of that Enerflex, Uncle Cyrus? I really want to grow my muscles bigger than Ronny Fortuna’s. Imagine me outmuscling the biggest Metazenic muscle-giant on planet Earth, actually weighing more than he does, but at only half his height? I’d be fucking amazing!”

 

“You’re amazing already, son,” my dad assured me. I got my amazing good looks from him. Pity the Metazoan stuff from days long gone hadn’t worked on him. Turned out that of the 100 participants, only the gay ones actually produced the exceptional offspring. The reason for this is still being searched for and Redfern is confident he’ll nail it, one day. My dad is gay, but also pansexual, so pretty much anything with a pulse will turn him on, so long as it’s human. He’s very happy with his missus. Of course, all Metazenic bodybuilders like me are engineered to be gay. This was initially introduced to keep our numbers low and not turn the entire human race into massively muscled mega-hunks. Also, the serum only works on the Y-chromosomes, so women aren’t affected. Sorry girls, but all this muscle is for the guys.

 

“You should both start drinking my jizz,” I’d often say to my step-bros. They’d yet to take me up on this, but if they took it in capsule form, like my dad, then what was there to be grossed about? It’d lenghten their lives and improve their overall fitness. I often drink my own, just for fun, and mostly after workouts. I hate wasting protein. In fact, I can’t get enough. I ate 24 chicken breast pizzas at my birthday along with a dozen massively protein-infused muscle shakes. Combined with the workout and the Enerflex, I should have grown more muscle on my birthday.

“I’m not about to hand out Enerflex freely, Dylan. It’s hard to produce and slow to quicken. There is a batch in development, but it’ll be a week at least before it’s ready. For now continue to bodybuild as you normally would, by lifting fast and lifting heavy, getting plenty of sleep, and eating plenty of protein-rich foods. You can also try different steroid combinations, but we don’t provide them here. Just stick to trustworthy sources,” Redfern advised, Daniel once got hold of some sinister shit on the dark web that made him grow huge, but it also gave him the worst urinary infection in history, and he spent nine days in hospital. We all learned from that one.

“So in a week, can I have a MASSIVE dose? I want to get fuckin’ gigantic, Uncle Cyrus,” and to demonstrate my rampant hunger to bodybuild and bodybuild and bodybuild beyond all sane thought, I exploded into a massive upper body lat-spread flex, puffing out my ribcage and inflating my muscle-boobs until you could barely see my head. I actually got out of breath doing this. Some of the research team got erections and wet stains in their pants, but that was to be expected. My body seemed to grow, but it was only just the muscles flexing with extra blood powered by my increased heart rate and adrenal gland going into overdrive. I soon came bucketloads, which, of course, was collected for study and consumption. I drank some of my own jizz back mixed with a protein shake, then worked out until long after my family had gone home. I spent a lot of time at the Institute, because I was too strong to live at home and was forever breaking things and putting my elbows through the walls and stuff. I could easily lift up the family car and toss it about fifty feet by this stage of my growth. I was even stronger after my growth spurt, so I could probably benchpress a fire truck now.

On the night my birthday ended, I lay restless in my modified bed in my modified room at the Institute. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to get bigger. These are the thoughts that ran through my head, chanted as a personal mantra to help me grow... huger and huger and huger...

When I go to the gym, I don’t go to hang out, or to be seen, or to socialize. I go for one reason only: to BODYBUILD. This is reason for being. My only reason to exist. I exist solely to bodybuild. I am a bodybuilder. I need to grow my body bigger and stronger. And I will gain more and more freakish muscle as I enhance my BODYBUILDING progress in order to get so much bigger. So while the ‘normals’ of this world are showing off their enhanced pics on Instagram and doing shitty workouts with shitty weights, just for show and to grab more and more followers, THIS huge fucker is BODYBUILDING and BODYBUILDING, and BODY-FUCKING-BUILDING, GRRRRRRRR, bigger than he’s ever been. I AM A BODYBUILDER. AND I AM GOING TO GROW. AND GROW. AND GROW.

I am the best built bodybuilder. I am the biggest and densest bodybuilder relative to my height. Gotta bodybuild and do so much more bodybuilding, so I can bodybuild and bodybuild and bodybuild huger than ever I AM A BODYBULDER. Aw fuck yeah!!!

Watch me grow huge... into a huge bodybuilder. So huge from bodybuilding to be bodybuilt with the body of a massive bodybuilder. THIS is what bodybuilding is. It’s what it is to be a gigantic bodybuilder. I will bodybuild more. And when it seems like my bodybuilder’s body can’t grow any more, I will do more and more bodybuilding, breaking new ground, bodybuilding and bodybuilding and BODY-FUCKING-BUILDING MORE AND MORE AND GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!

 

But the next week was hell. Because I didn’t gain another pound of muscle. And that pissed me off a great deal.

 

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The morning after my birthday celebration started off like any other; with check-posing in the mirrored wall in my bedroom. I needed a huge mirror in order to best appreciate my size. There were also cameras positioned at various points, with monitors to allow me to check myself out at every possible angle. Laser scanners constantly fed my dimensions into a computer to chart my progress. I also had an implant under my skin to monitor my vitals. I was extremlely healthy, although I shouldnt be, right? Fuck it. Vanity rules supreme.

 

At first I loved my new size. I noticed all of the gains immediately, and loved every part of me. I flexed a double biceps pose into my mirror, and granite mountain peaks pushed upwards from the oceans of flesh that were my arms. I flexed harder and harder, willing more size and density to adorn my beautiful muscles. The veins on my biceps were thick and dark beneath my thin, tight skin. With my fists balled so that my thumbs pointed down, I could force my biceps and thumbs to meet as I held this pose. Soon I planned to have bicep peaks higher than my fists. And then they’d grow even bigger, with secondary – even trinary – peaks exploding upwards. I did a full lat spread, and my upper body screamed with size and power. Veins burst forth across my incredible mass of muscle-flesh, and I instantly shot a load of jizz from my rock hard cock. Lots of it stained my mirror, flowing down lazily to pool at the floor. But I cupped some in my hands and tasted a little before rubbing the rest into my pecs to make my huge, deep and dark cleavage slick and then sticky. I loved the smell; how it mixed with my muscle-musk, and the smell boned me up even more.

 

I growled monster-fashion as I crabbed down into a most muscular pose. My delts and traps heaved with size and magnitude, and the more I leaned into the pose, the harder, shinier, and stronger my muscles became. My dick got even harder, thicker, and longer. Soon it would be bigger than Flex’s. Then he’d have to find a new party trick to keep us all interested. Usually after an intense Enerflex-fueled workout, I could feel my muscles tingling next morning, which would prepare me for another growth-spurt. Alas, there was no tingle this morning, which annoyed me no end.

Flex and Daniel were already done with their cardio at the Institute gym. Some of the bigger boys trained in their own section. So the three of us wouldn’t be bothered. I strutted into the gym and decided to loosen up with some free weights. I picked up my favourites, a pair of 300 pounders, and began to silently curl. The other two watched me curosily before muttering to each other and returning to Flex spotting Daniel as he worked on his chest. He was benching around 1350, these days. I used that to warm up and could do more sets than he could. But he hated it when I bragged. Although I felt it would motivate him to train harder if he saw how often I was breaking his lifting records.

 

“Hey there, big fella,” said Daniel is his pleasant Swedish brogue when he rested the bar back on the rack after pressing 10 sets of 12. He’d barely broken a sweat. He was a cute-looking guy, with tousles of mousy brown curls around a face that might have been gorgeous, except for a slightly crooked nose and somewhat bucked teeth out front. Flex was of Asian extraction, so his face and skin was flawlesly symetrical and seemingly without fault. I would describe him as good looking, if a little bland to the eye. Neither of them were the fucking hunks the level of which I flawlessly maintained.

 

“Fuck off, Daniel. I’m, not in the mood for pleasantries. I came here to bodybuild,” I grunted rudely.

 

Frowning, Daniel reached for a water bottle to lubricate his lips. “What’s that for? We’re all here to bodybuild, but you shouldn’t be so rude. I didn’t deserve that.” Flex said nothing. He was a man of few words. He just lifted and fucked and that was all the expression he needed.

 

“Sorry dude. I didn’t tingle this morning. I should be growing like fucking crazy after yesterday. But the scanners didn’t reveal any bigger measurements this morning. What if I’ve plateaued? I can’t stay this size. I need to get bigger. Way bigger.” I threw down the weights and reached for a pair of 500 pounders. I really wanted to work my muscles today. They still felt light. I’d have to move to the magnetic machines to get a proper workout. There was a gravity chamber at the institute, where we could work out under heavier gravity, but Ronny Fortuna and Breeze Brewster broke it during a recent visit, and it was still out of order. Breeze Brewster was wierd. Nine and a half feet tall and weighing almost as much as Ronny, he decided to transition to female but still maintain his gains. Uncle Cyrus wasn’t sure it was possible for him to increase his muscle mass and height and chug down loads of female hormones, but it was a curious experiment the Institute was only too happy to observe.

 

“Well we all go through the plateaus from time to time,” Daniel offered. He smiled sympathetically before lying down on the bench for another set. Flex obediently lowered the bar into position for him and he went through another set. “It’s our bodies way of stopping to catch a breath is all. Don’t worry about it. You’ll get bigger soon enough, and I’ll be under even more pressure to keep up.”

 

“Yeah, guess so. It’s just not happening fast enough for me, y’know?” I was in a crap mood. I could easily have left the gym and instead get off to loads of porn on my computer. But bodybuilding had to come first. I couldn’t miss a workout no matter how annoyed I was.

I got through all my upper body routines in lightning quick time, and decided to work my legs and calves. It pleased me that my new birthday mass had increased my strength and stamina, but it also pissed me off that even the magnetic machines were no longer giving me the pumps I so desperately craved.

 

Flex offered to fuck me, which was nice, so I let him and Daniel do insane sexual things to me for an afternoon of muscle worship and extreme fucking. They turned it into one hell of a good worship session, too, in the interest of cheering me up. Flex loved to take position behind me. I was twice as wide at the shoulders than he was, but that boned him up quite a bit. I would lift my arms and groan with delight when Flex started to massage and squeeze my flared lats from behind. I loved to feel his strong fingers trying to dent my amazing muscles. Whilst down in front, the “almost-as-much-a-behemoth-as-I-was” Daniel Emerstorfer hunkered down in order to rip my posers from my person and suck my dick into his hungry mouth. He was surprisingly limber for a muscle-god, and could get into all kinds of kinky positions. He hungrily worked his mouth along my sixteen-inch shaft, thankful that his lips could stretch almost snake-like to accommodate my massive meat. He applied just enough pressure to make me moan with pleasure whilst Flex now slipped his muscled arms under mine in order to grope my enormous pectorals and try to squeeze the fucking life out of them.

 

 I loved to have my pecs kneaded and pummeled by the strong hands of a bodybuilder. My dream was to be heavier than Ronny Fortuna one day soon, and then make him my enormous muscle-slave whilst barely coming up to his pec-line. I’d also be stronger than he’d ever be. That was my plan. But fuck this fucking plateau.

 

“Make me grow, guys. Do filthy things to me and my muscles,” I gasped. Daniel stretched a cock-ring around my cock and balls, to make my junk bulge even bigger and get harder and harder. I liked it best when my dick and cum-balloons felt like they were gonna burst off my body. There was a lot of tingling down there. If only my entire body could tingle, hell, I’d be growing like fucking crazy. Maybe if the guys did more shit to me right here in the gym, it might kick-start my growth.

Daniel stimulated my nipples to harden and expand as he worked on my pectoral masses more and more. They were as hard as bullets and leaking with musky oil that was ambrosia to our senses. “GRRRRRR.... so good. Gotta grow. Gotta be the biggest... gasp... body-fucking-builder,” I hollered, throwing my head back to better appreciate the experience. Tired from sucking me off, Daniel got to his feet and began to gut punch my rock hard abs. He was really strong; not as strong as me, but the feeling still caused me to adjust my footing so I didn’t fall backwards. The floor was slick with the excretions made by our sexy bodies, but we didn’t care. This had to go on and become more and more fervent. I HAD TO FUCKING GROW!!!!!

Daniel buried his face in my pectoral cleavage and slurped up the sweat that clung to the fine, dark-blonde hairs of my chest. My dick was so insanely swollen now that it fenced with Daniels considerable member as they jostled for space between our bodies. Our muscles pressed against each other, like some kind of delicious morphing fusion. This would get even better once Flex slipped his gigantic cock into the pouting, hungry hole of my bodybuilt ass. I suddenly felt stronger than ever. I began to push back against Flex’s invasive onslaught. He slid on the precum-soaked floor and I pushed him with enough force to knock him flying onto a wrestling mat. This got Daniel very excited and now all three of us were growling like madmen and wanting ours muscles to fuckin’ burst open with crazy amounts of new, rippling and impregnable muscle. I turned about and saw Flex sprawling on the mat, chest upwards, his huge dick bobbing  and throbbing above him. His cock head oozed a torrent of precum. We’d soon be soaked in it.

“Hold that postion,” I roared, before turning around and literally planting myself down with force atop Flex. His dick tore into my asshole, tunnelling upwards to the point some of my internal organs shifted to allow it room.


“Unnghhhhh.... so good,” I roared. I began to buck up and down heavily on his dick, taking every one of its 20+ inches. It was thicker than two beercans, too. I was virtually being torn a bigger arsehole and the feeling was something words cannot describe. But I wanted more pressure; more force. As if reading my mind Daniel bounced down on top of me, his 950+ lbs of muscle mass adding to my own. Flex was just about able to bear our combined weight, and the extra pressure bearing down on his dick caused me to shoot a massive load all over Daniel. Flex, likewise shot into me. He filled my anus with several liters of his salty creme. But there would be plenty left for us all to slurp down and lick from each others’ delicious, manly musculature. I then returned Flex the favor by fucking him deeply for several minutes whilst I let Daniel clean out my hole with his strong, penetrating tongue.

 

After the orgy we wrestled on the mat and got horny again. We played with weight plates, ripping them in half like phone books, although I managed this with ease, whereas my lesser playmates could only dent them slightly. I really was that fucking strong!!! We soon got bored and tired and fell asleep on the mat in a heap of undulating muscle, soothed by each others softening breaths and quieting heartbeats. I still wasn’t growing. The tingle wasn’t there. Maybe after our nap and some lunch, things might be different.

 

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  • 3 months later...
  • 3 months later...

 

PART 3 

By the afternoon I was so pissed off I figured that a muscle rant would provoke the tingling sensation and trigger further growth. Something mad happened then. Daniel and Flex pledged to completely give themselves over to me. They would be my bodybuilding bitches from here on, and totally devote themselves to ushering in further growth from my titanic muscles. It was weird suddenly feeling myself become even cockier and self-centred than I already was. In fact, I decided to change my name from Dylan Mass to Dylan Massively Muscled. Heh heh, I am a muscle god and I will become even godlier. Once I start tingling again, my growth will be greater than it's ever been. Growth. Grrrr. It’s almost like I haven’t even begun my bodybuilding journey yet. Fuck this narrative. From now on I’m going to be an even dumber, bulgingly muscular blonde bimbo. Or is it “himbo”? Heh, don’t fucking care at this point. I just want to get huge.

Cole is totally obsessed with my growth, too. Remember I mentioned how his weight fluctuates? He’s not anorexic, or nothing (heh, I’m a total bigorexic muscle hunk, heh). But he likes to enhance his leanness, just for kicks. And when his weight plummets below 130, that bones me like you wouldn’t believe. Makes me feel even bigger standing next to the beanpole that he is, but he watches his health and doesn’t let things get too crazy. Besides, drinking my jizz is all the nourishment he’ll ever need, and he says it makes him feel healthier and constantly “boned”. And speaking of his “bone”, his erection can be monstrous. What is it about super skinny twinks and how enormous their cocks can be? I mean, mine is huge, beyond belief, but there is something to say about a skinny guy with a dick so huge that he feels faint just from all that blood going into his boner.

 

So he came by the gym after my nap and lunch, and he had a present for me. It was the biggest dildo I’d ever seen. I really thought it was a joke, but it turns out it was a life size model of Ronny Fortuna’s dick and they sold on the internet for crazy sums of money. “I won it for clicking on a porn site banner, so you bouncing up and down on this will hopefully trigger the growth spurt we all so massively crave, Dylan,” he said excitedly. Seriously, the rubber schlong was almost as big as Cole, and it was impressive that he could even carry it.

“Hmm, I could allow that up my muscle ass, darling. But I really should focus on my bodybuilding for the time being. I am a bodybuilder beyond humanity. It is how I identify.” I was getting hornier by the second. I flexed my muscles and they bulged to the point where it seemed I might explode. Was this the growth I craved? Not really. There was no tingle. I knew that when the spurt eventually hit, it would be off the scale. It would be like a tsunami of explosive muscle growth and I would become the ultimate muscle behemoth.

“Tell you what, sweetie. We’ll play a little game and your reward will be to ride Fortuna’s dildo, here. It will be like a drinking game, of sorts,” Cole suggested. I cocked an eyebrow quizzically. “I’m not sure I follow. I feel like I’m getting dumber as I become more and more muscular,” I almost grunted my words.

“Okay… everytime I say the word “bodybuilding”, try to make your massive penis twitch a little, and your gonads  swell a bit. We both know you can grow your balls to the size of basketballs, and how much you love the word “bodybuilding”. And if this triggers some growth from you, you have to ride the dildo here,” Cole said, slamming the massive cylinder of silicone onto the weight bench I really wanted to crush between my rolling chest muscles, once I got big enough.

“I really like the word “bodybuilding”, Cole darling. It’s how I perceive myself. You aren’t a bodybuilder. I am a bodybuilder. Twinks like you can’t even begin to address what it’s like to be bodybuilt like me. I bodybuild so you don’t have to, heh heh. Yes, this could be a good game. Lets try it out,” I said, but before Cole could continue, I made a massive full lat spread which caused my muscles to bulge to  near bursting point. Of course, this made my muscular penis twitch and bob and thicken like a big,veined pool cue. Hehe!

“I like where this is going,”I chortled. So this is what happened.

“What am I, Cole?” I began.

“You’re a big, bulging, busty… BODYBUILDER!!!”Cole alliterated. I liked the sound of that.

“I’m a body...builder? BODYBUILDER? Does that mean… I do bodybuilding, or do I  just bodybuild?”I feined surprise, which really got our kink going. My muscle penis wobbled and bucked some more. I squeezed  my biceps and they nearly fucking exploded.

“You bodybuild, my bodybuilding bodybuilder!” Cole chanted.

“Oh yeah, this is so true. And so turning me on, boyfriend,” I moaned. I was so muscular, I was almost out of breath from flexing. There aren’t words that can describe what this feels like. Oh fuck. “Tell me more about what I am. That word. The one that begins with “B””

“Body…” Cole teased cheekily,

“Yeah?” Precum began to slicken my dick’s pulsating mushroom head.

“... build...ing. You are a bodybuilder. Not even human. A body fucking builder. Built of muscle. And nothing but massive muscle. Because you… yup… you guessed it, sweetie. You are into BODYBUILDING!!!!!”

 

“YEAH!” I screamed and balled up my biceps so ferociously, they could have sprouted mouths through which to scream and rejoice their size and power. “Bodybuilding. I bodybuild. Bodybuilding GRRRRRR. More muscles. More size. I MUST GROW HOOOGE!!!!” We soon forgot about the dildo, such was my preoccupation with my body.

“Say why don’t you help me shop for clothes and you can proclaim and celebrate your bodybuilding even further by impacting on the world of us lesser mortals and delight when the store clerks worry you’ll burst out of their merchandise!” Cole’s dick bobbed hugely, and he pulled in a stomach vacuum to make his waspish waist even more waspish. He was lean and anatomically pleasing to me. This made his dick look even bigger. And seeing that made my massive member get even bigger, too. I really loved going into clothing stores with Cole and comparing my size to regular dudes and exclaim that stores don’t do enough to accommodate us bodybuilding Metazoans. So that’s what we did.

I dressed in a mega-tight button-up muscle shirt from my favourite designer: House of Trione. It was burgundy coloured. I then put on a tight pair of dark grey muscle jeans. They looked painted on and  I could barely stuff my ballooning junk into them. The bulge in the crotch was insane, and the precum stain just made them look even better. “These clothes used to be loose on me. Now look what happens when I strain a little,”I sniggered, and I leaned into a most muscular pose hoping to pop buttons. But I really liked this shirt, and didn’t want to ruin it.

So we strutted down to the retail outlet and people stared in absolute awe of me. I was six and a half feet tall, but fucking hugely muscled. It wasn’t enough though. I had to bodybuild to get bigger. I messed with people we passed, too, pretending I was so skinny and didn’t see how massively bodybuilt I was. Cole was only wearing skimpy denim cut-offs and a slutty pink crop top. The outfit so worked on him because of his male model looks. Two guys stopped me in the street outside a cafe and asked if they could feel my muscles. They were really cute. So I did a lat spread for them and my upper body just bloomed and flared hugely. My upper pecs seemed to devour all space around them, and my head actually looked small as I pulsated and bounced my pectorals so the point where the striations and nipples almost shredded my shirt. The buttons struggled to keep themselves fastened. I loosed a couple to show off more pec cleavage. Cole began to masturbate, but a cop told him to cover up. The cop clearly had the hots for me but tried not to show it. The two gay guys came instantly when I flared the lat spread. I felt great. Then I played with them a little.

“I’m so skinny. Look at me. I’m wasting away. I wish I was like one of them big bodybuilder types. Imagine if I started gymming it up. Hah, I might do bodybuilding, and get big muscles. Hah hah!”

“Yeah, ummghh, sexy big Dylan. You’re so hot, lover. You should take up that weightlifting lark. Yeah weightlifting would be cool,”Cole jested.

“Uggh, but you’re already a bodybuilder,” one of the gay guys moaned as he adjusted his package due to the strain of his leaky hardon.

“Nah not weightlifting, my boyfriend. I’d rather do bodybuilding. Do you think I’d be good at bodybuilding? Should I bodybuild for a living? Am I meant to be a bodybuilder? And not just a bodybuilder. But a fucking HUGE bodybuilder?”

“Hey there, bodybuilder!” People chanted as they passed by. I really was so huge. But I wasn’t anywhere close to reaching my goal ceiling. I was tiny compared to what I would eventually become. It wasn’t happening soon enough, though. And that made me growl lustily.

“I AM A BODYBUILDER!!!!!!” I roared. I had to turn sideways and duck a little to squeeze my immense frame through the doorway of the clothing shop. I liked this store: International Dude. Two bodybuilders worked there, and they were gay and totally into me. They were pretty big, one was easily a superheavyweight and the other one was sort of more fitness model-like. The superheavyweight was named Sam and he had really nice pecs. They were jealous of my size, of course, but I told them not to sweat over it. They could still get much bigger, if they ate correctly and also did better ‘roid cycles. And of course, even non-metazenic bodybuilders were constantly getting bigger and better as the sport and its science evolved.

“Heh, even though this store caters for huge bodybuilders, there’s no way you carry clothes for my size,” I larked. I popped my pecs zealously beneath my shirt and Sam and the other guy, Adrian, ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’, much to my delight. My upper arms were way bigger than my waist. I one day planned to have arms over 100 inches cold and probably 140-150 inches popped and flexed when fully pumped. I couldn’t wait to weigh a thousand times as much as I currently did at this point. Hell, fuck it… ten thousand times my weight would still only be the beginning of this for me.

“There is no way we have anything to fit you, sir,” said Adrian, but Sam still went into the back of the store to find things for me to try on.

“This bodybuilder can’t get clothes to wear, and I’m about to burst out of this set of clothes. Meaning I’ll have nothing to wear if that happens,” I teased.

I stood in the middle of the store and spread my legs a little. My thunderous thighs were huge and swole and I waddled in that muscly way guys like me do. I flexed both my calves together and little tears began in my pants. That excited me to no end. I really felt that I was going to grow, right there in the store. Cole tore off his crop top and started pinching his nipples to further his kink. That pleased me. I did a side chest pose and my fucking chest… oh my gosh… my chest tingled and rippled and fucking bulged INSANELY!!!! Sam’s nipples grew hard and a button popped off his shirt. That was cool. My dick began to strain my fly buttons. It could get up to nearly thirty inches when fully erect, and I had my cock ring on as well to keep it nicely fluffed. It’s an amazing feeling when you are so heavily muscled and full of testosterone to the point where you feel like you are cumming constantly. That’s how I feel most of the time. I want the feeling to be stronger, though. And it will get stronger as I get bigger and bigger... so much fucking bigger.

“It’s starting, my darling,” said Cole, struck by muscle-lust.

“The bodybuilder that I am, is bodybuilding and bodybuilding and bodybuilding!”I chanted,as the tingling began and my growth resumed.

“Grow bodybuilder… grow. Please grow!”Everyone chanted and egged me on. It would help my growth.

The shirt I wore seemed to get tighter, and the feeling was amazing. I actually had to adjust my arms as my lats thickened and pushed my elbows out further from my sides. I never wanted it to stop. Why should I? I am a bodybuilder. Growing my muscles is what I do. It’s everything to me. It defines me ultimately, and it’s all I truly care about, besides loving my boyfriend, and also now having Daniel and Flex as my muscle bitches. Hah fuck yeah!

“Bodybuilding… body fuckin’ building,” I grunted and groaned and the effort of my spurting growth actually made me feel a little winded and dizzy. The shirt split along the sleeves and I was drunk with the feeling of the transformation. Two buttons popped off my shirt as my burgeoning pec-tits swelled and ballooned. My neck swelled and erupted with veins and my traps pushed upwards as if to devour my head and neck. I loved it. I was growing bigger and bigger, widening to surreal proportions. But this was only the beginning. I was going to make this last and no one present would ever forget what they would see.

“Look at me… the bodybuilder of bodybuilders. I AM A FUCKIN’ BODYBUILDER. I GROW. WATCH THIS!!!!”

My back widened and thickened greatly. The shirt split down the middle of my back, and exploded outwards as my body bulged and reshaped. My pecs gorged on free space as they ballooned to ridiculous proportions. I was now several times bustier than before. And believe me when I say it, I was so fucking busty before this growth spurt. This would be the biggest ever growth spurt. Cole made sure to film it on his phone. The phone was always connected to the Redfern Institute, so Uncle Cyrus had something to say: “Surprise, Dylan. It turns out we were tracking you and there is a courier en route to you with a nice gift for you,”said Cyrus over the phone’s loudspeaker.

 

“Huh?” I swam in the reverie of my growth and came enough to drench my pants with my sexy fluid.

“Yes. I had a change of heart with regard to holding back on your Enerflex dosage.  It’s a new pill to enhance your growth further. It’s still experimental, but your hunger for growth is sensational, and we think it will be of great benefit to you. The courier will arrive in two minutes, I think.”

 

“I WANT THAT FUCKING PILL!!!” I growled. Sam and Adrian pulled the dicks off themselves as my growth ramped up. Well they didn’t literally pull their dicks off. It’s just an expression.

Just think of what that pill would do for my growth if I took it during my latest growth spurt. And by thinking of the word “bodybuilding” over and over in my mind, would only enhance my size gains further.

Edited by CardiMuscleman
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Excellent continuation. 

'I couldn’t wait to weigh a thousand times as much as I currently did at this point. Hell, fuck it… ten thousand times my weight would still only be the beginning of this for me.'

I love that greed for mass, man!!

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  • 3 weeks later...

FINAL PART

As I continued to acquire more and more weight and volume to my massively muscular bodybuilder’s physique, my body’s processes went into overdrive. My balls made more and more cum, almost instantly replenishing as I ejaculated. My cum sprayed everywhere, ruining racks of shirts, muscle tops, and jeans for bodybuilders. But hey, who wouldn’t want to be seen strutting down the street wearing the Trione label slutty muscle clothes that reeked of my magnificent spunk? This would only add to the value and popularity of the label. Everyone wins, right?

I flexed my left forearm and it thickened considerably. A blood vessel actually popped under my skin there and caused a purple blister to form and spread. But it healed almost as quickly and the blood was reabsorbed. This began to happen in other areas, too, but I didn’t fucking care. Bodybuilders must sport their own badges of honour, right?

 

“Fuck this shit! Where’s that courier with my pill?” I decided to pass the time by picking up Adrian so that his rock hard cock was at my mouth. “Come for Dylan. Into his mouth. Give me your protein. It’s better in me than in you, runt!”

Adrian moaned out of bliss and utter subservience, and drenched my mouth with his cream. I sucked him like a popsicle, as more and more muscles popped out all over me. When he was no longer able to come in my mouth, I let him bury his face between my muscle cleavage, and I almost drowned him in sweaty musk. Sam was already trying to get his dick into my hole from behind. Sneaky of him to try that without my permission, but I was having the growth spurt that would redefine my musclegod status, so I didn’t fucking care. I was a smorgasbord of sex and musclegrowth, so come one, come all, but most of all eat plenty, ‘cos there’s plenty of me to go around. GRRRR!

Cole was now completely naked before me, with Adrian sleeping off his “drowning by muscle sweat and musk” from my pecs, heh heh. I liked the idea of my boyfriend — the super skinny male model twink — fucking the prone Adrian with his massive schlong, and I commanded he do so. Cole would do anything for me. Maybe having an open relationship from here on — with me getting off to him fucking other (lesser) bodybuilders — would cause me to grow even more. I needed to fucking grow! GROWTH… BODYBUILDING… I was fucking made of massive muscle.

“Grrrr, feels great getting fucked as I grow!!!” I don’t know how Sam managed to hold on back there, and I didn’t care. My muscle ass ballooned deeper and wider, gaining more and more striated volume as my growth spurt continued, so I imagined my ass sucking him in like some monstrous vacuum cleaner made of pure muscle as it grew and grew. I was impressed. He didn’t answer, but his moans and grunts of bliss and pure exertion told me he was still alive and hadn’t died or nuthin’. I thought about the pill again. What was keeping that courier?

Sam drenched my hole with his salty goodness and then after pulling out, decided he wanted to “eat back” some of his spunk. My amazing body processes near-instantly absorbed his fluid into me, to further fuel my growth, but he lapped some of it back. Strange, I actually preferred the feeling of him eating me out than fucking my backdoor alleyway with his knob. And this was the point where Dylan Massively Muscular, once again changed his name to DYLAN RAMPAGE!!!!

I’d had enough. I would track down that courier myself. I flexed hugely, my upper body thickening and pulsing with even more growth. I flexed my ass cheeks once, and the force sent Sam careening backwards into a rack of cum-drenched bodybuilder shirts. I was now too big to fit through the doors out front. No problem. I took out the entire front of the store as I flexed my way to freedom. People gathered outside, some not caring about cuts and bruises from flying shop debris. I had an audience, so they would get the best bodybuilding show of their lives.

I’d completely burst out of my clothes, and I was growing bigger and bigger. Veins exploded beneath the taut skin of my pectoralis minor and majors, feeding them with more and more fuel to enhance them even further. My abs tightened and became denser. I almost staggered when I felt four more ab bellies form to give me a 12-pack. But, of course, I couldn’t see anything below my massive pec-shelf. That gave me an idea.

“Hey there all you mice and men,” I teased my audience, “you’re used to seeing lesser bodybuilders showing off on YouTube and Instagram by balancing their protein bottles on their upper pec shelves. Well, I can go way better than that. Heh heh heh.” I saw a parked motorbike, and stomped over to it, just as the leather-clad owner was coming to retrieve it.

“Hey… what the?” That’s all he got out before I gently brushed him aside, enough to cause him to fall over, then hefted the motorbike upwards. I rested it easily on my upper pec shelf. It even had room for another one, but I got bored easily. Then I bounced my pecs up and down and the momentum sent the bike spinning out into the street. It crashed through the windscreen of a parked pickup. I didn’t care. I was GROWING.

At this point Cole emerged onto the street, naked as the day he was born, with his dick bobbing and twitching before him like some sexy, pungent divining rod. It was slick from his own spunk and sweat from Adrian’s muscle-ass. He was holding his phone, which, as always, was linked with the Redfern Institute. He had Cryus on loudspeaker.

“The courier ran into a snag, Dylan. He was picked up by a cop who’s busting him for drug possession. Strange, the police usually give members of the Institute a wide berth. He must be having a bad day. Still I’m monitoring your growth through local CCTV. And, wow… impressive!” It always intrigued me how Uncle Cyrus always seemed very calm and composed, even when observing a massive super-bodybuilder become even more massive and super before his very eyes. I guess it takes more than that to impress a scientist.

“Can you link your scanners to the camera? You can measure my muscles remotely. I need to know how big I am. Do it. GRRRRR!”

And faster than Feliicity Smoak can hack into Star City’s entire camera network and use them to find a bad guy’s heart rate whilst simultaneously reprogramming a satellite in orbit to stop nukes blowing up half the USA by randomly hitting keys on her laptop (fuck I hate that show), Redfern was able to tell me what I needed to know.

“Receiving telemetry now, Dylan. As expected your height is unchanged…”

I was so pleased to hear that. I flexed my left bicep. “How big is this bad boy?” I demanded to know.

“86 inches, Dylan. Impressive,” Redfern replied in monotone. 

“Not enough. GRRRRRR!” I pulled a mailbox out of the ground with one hand, sending concrete from the pavement flying. I began to curl it like a barbell. It felt light. I was annoyed. I began to pound it into a dense ball of metal. Its contents flew everywhere like confetti. I didn’t care about the vandalism. The Mayor’s office could just send the bill to Uncle Cyrus. Pounding the mailbox down to a smaller size made it denser, and put my arm muscles to work, a little. Veins bulged more prominently, and I got something of a pump. “Measure my biceps again, Uncle Cyrus,” I roared at Cole’s phone. 

“88 inches,” Redfern replied. I turned towards the mounted CCTV camera that was clearly following my movements. I pushed out a most muscular and my body thickened to THREE TIMES its mass. “GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!” The crowds began to flee, fear finally rendering their lust and awe void. 

“94 inches, Dylan. Your neck is 66 inches. Forewarms 56 inches. Oh my. Do a full lat spread so I can scan your chest!”

I was only too happy to oblige. I did the pose and my pecs rushed upwards and outwards to fully engulf my fucking everything. I gasped for breath. My dick got even larger and harder and began spraying come everywhere.

“Chest and balloon pecs equal… gasp… 233 inches. But your waist is only 32 inches. Your V-taper is OFF THE CHARTS!!!”

I had to get bigger. That pill would do it for me, for I’d already begun to feel the tingle subsiding. My growth spurt was slowing. I fucking hated that.

I scooped up my beloved boyfriend and bounded down the street towards the police station. The tingling had stopped, and so had my growth, for now. I cared about nothing but swallowing that pill. I charged down the road, ramming into cars and tackling them out of my way, caring little if anyone got hurt. My muscle lust utterly fueled me, now. It also rendered my sense of morality null and void. Thirsty for a drink of jizz, I sucked Cole like a kid does a juice box. He felt so weightless in my grasp. I was stronger than I’d ever been; in fact, I couldn’t wait to test just how strong I was. I could kick cars aside like they were empty soda cans. How much stronger was I going to get? I wanted to get so much stronger. And so much bigger.

Thanks to the commotion I’d caused, the city was put on high alert. The cops had formed a protective shield of patrol cars outside the police station. They had weapons trained on me, but when they saw I was holding Cole, they couldn’t open fire and risk killing an innocent. It dawned on me — albeit briefly — that I was now a criminal. But I didn’t care. I was beyond all human laws now. I was a muscle god, but I still had to get bigger. WAY BIGGER.

“I should let you go and let you get to safety,” I said to my boyfriend. But he shook his head vigorously in denial.

“I love you. We’re in this together, Dylan. Besides, I want to see you grow even bigger,” Cole insisted, lovingly.

“Dylan, a preliminary scan of the immediate area shows you haven’t injured a single civilian,” said Cyrus Redfern via Cole’s phone. I’d completely forgotten he was still holding it.

“Go on, Uncle… tell me good news,” I urged. To which he replied:
“Yes, all is good. Just damage to several dozen cars and a few shop fronts and a mailbox. We are more than good for covering that. And the mayor and I are good friends. If you don’t provoke the police, you may get off with a mild reprimand, considering no jail in the world could hold you.”

“Yeh, you got that right, Unc.” And to the cops: “Put your fly swatters away, tiny men. You can’t hurt me with those. I just want the pill you took off the courier you wrongfully arrested,” I boomed. My voice was deeper and more masculine-sounding than ever before. Fuckin’ boned me just hearing it. My dick swelled huge and hard. Two female cops fainted from fright and from lust. Heh, every time their husbands fucked them, they’d be thinking of my gigantic schlong tearing them new ones. Some of the male cops — the gay ones — dropped their guns and started whipping out their dicks so that they could masturbate to the sight of me. I didn’t disappoint them. I put down Cole, who was now also masturbating, and began throwing out bodybuilding pose after bodybuilding pose, forcing my massively huge muscles to harden and expand and bulge with thick veins and deep striations. I bounced and rippled all my muscle bellies thickly and vigorously. I was a living behemoth of gigantic muscle.

“I AM THE ULTIMATE BODYBUILDER GOD OF MUSCLE GROWTH AND MUSCLE LUST!!!!!” I bellowed. The courier appeared outside the station and quaked on the steps, unsure of what to do amid all the pandemonium. He’d been summarily released from custody, which was lucky for the police headquarters, because had he not been let out, I’d have torn that building down to get the pill.

“Toss the pill here,” I growled. The courier had no choice but to toss it toward me. I caught it easily and downed it immediately. “You’d better all stand back, pigs, because this hunk is about to explode with even more size and power!!!!”

And then the tingling returned. Within seconds my body was growing. More and more muscle pushed out of themselves, rolling passed and over one another as they struggled to find space to grow on my titanic frame. My bones cracked and shifted and spread out to accommodate further muscle growth. My neck tripled in size to 180 inches. My chest exploded to 600+ inches, but my waist remained the same. My lats grew to aircraft sized wing proportions and my arms popped large at 300+ inches. My legs expanded to 700 inches apiece and my dick was now 100+ inches. And yet, I was still only 6 feet 6 inches tall. I continued to grow, as my bodybuilder’s physique grew and bulged insanely.

“It’s not enough,” I raged, and stormed and stomped around, as if throwing a tantrum would fuel further muscle growth.

“Dylan, your growth is not slowing down anytime soon. We have a cargo plane standing by to take you to one of our safe zones, where you can develop your body further without causing damage or injury to the city and its denizens. I think you should comply sooner than later, dear boy,” said Redfern over the phone. He was right. I scooped up Cole in my now even bigger arms. And fuck me if he didn’t feel absolutely weightless. My super powered legs propelled me away from the cop station in leaps and bounds and soon I was at the airport, the plane fueled and ready for me to load myself onto it.

Three hours later we touched down at the safe zone facility in an unknown location. I barely made it onto the airstrip before I exploded with way more size than I thought imaginable. I weighed thousands of pounds and I could barely walk like a human being because my muscles were pushing against each other instead of working in unison. Cryus was there to meet me in person, along with my family who’d been flown out to be with me. They couldn’t believe how huge I’d become.

“Yeah, check this out,” I boasted and began throwing around some muscly poses which forced a lot of “oohs” and “aahs” and “holy fucks” out of everyone. Then a huge giant figure appeared on the horizon. It could only be Ronny Fortuna, now a towering behemoth of mass and muscle. Easily 20 feet tall, I knew I had a few hundred pounds on him. His dick was taller than me, for fucksake. But with a smug and determined grin on me, I made a beeline for him. “Hey Fortuna, you’d better assume the position, you big galoot, because you’re gonna get fucked by the most densely muscled bodybuilder in the universe. Me. Dylan Rampage!!!! You’re gonna be fuckin’ sore after this!!!” Muscles bulged and burst out further all over me as I thickened and widened and pretty much left my humanity behind a couple 1000 lbs ago. But it still wasn’t enough. I still wanted more. So much more.

For the size he was, Ronny was a big “girl” at heart, and definitely a bottom. He bent over a small hill and flexed his tunnel-sized hairy hole at me. I charged at him like a bull, and I was still growing bigger and bigger. By the time I got to him, shooting my dick right into his moist hole, I matched his weight in muscle, but I was only one third his height. Imagine a small terrier dog fucking a buffalo, and the buffalo enjoyed it.

I tore him a new one — the former biggest bodybuilder on Earth — I plied him apart like wet pasta, and he fucking loved it. By the time I was done with him he rolled over and left a big crater in the ground. I drank him dry of all his spunk; hundreds of liters of the stuff. And when I came all over him and filled his crater with THOUSANDS of liters of my spunk, the big fucker drowned. Can you believe that. I actually killed him, the fuckin’ sissy. I mean, he had plenty of time to get out of the crater before I jizzed into it. Fuck it. I’d worn him down. I was THE Muscle God from here on. 

And I still had plenty of growing to do. Because that’s what I do. I bodybuild.

 

Fin.

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