Jump to content

How I Became The King of Pro Bodybuilding


Supercrav

Recommended Posts

Sergei and I discussed about the surprisingly extensive favors Gilford was treating him with, and he went to take his shower. As soon as the water stopped flowing, there was a knock on the door. Perfect timing. As he was getting out of the bathroom, Mr Muscle went opening the entrance door.
 
Like I had guessed, that was Gilford behind the door. With a stack of towels.His jaw hit the floor as the opening of the door had revealed the water soaked, unbelievably muscle-packed body, completely naked. The dedicated servant was unable to utter a single word. His eyes were poking out of their sockets as his entire view was filled with a prodigious display of dramatically overblown hyperdeveloped mega muscles stacked up and overflowing each other, a fabulous symphony of muscle, a masterpiece of structural perfection, the most miraculous wonder of perfection that had ever graced the universe.
 
Harmoniously taking center stage of the overwhelmingly delightful muscular profusion, the ample and impressive genitals of the behemoth were completing the monstrous work of art.
 
In a second, Gilford was even harder than when we got out of the elevator. His stupor was completely normal, the human brain wasn't supposed to compute the sight of so much virility and muscular power, that the bodybuilder had both pushed to inhuman extremes.
 
" Oh thank you my friend, this will be very handy." Sergei started massaging one of his pecs, the part he could reach. " I was thinking, we won't be using the second room. Could you install some training equipment in there? It will have to be really as hardcore as it gets of course.
 
- OK, where do you want us to move the bed?
 
- The bed will have to go.
 
- But your friend...
 
- Don't worry about it, he will sleep with me in the large bed, we're used to it. I like having him in bed with me, and he loves to sleep lying on my bare chest." He moved his hand under his relaxed pec and started playing with the bloated huge slab of muscle, effortlessly making it giggle up and down. Gilford was hypnotized by the ripples running up and down the globe of muscular flesh, making the striations dance under the smooth, paper thin, bronze skin. " See my muscles can be very soft and comfortable. A man can sleep like a baby with his face stuffed into these huge pillows of sweet muscle." He took Gilford's elbow and plunged his hand into the beach ball sized pectoral. A tear ran down Gilford's left cheek. A wet spot appeared on his crotch.
 
Sergei let the hand go and casually gave a few stokes to his beautiful, foot-long cock.
 
" And make it quick, OK my boy?" And he gave him a kiss on the forehead before slamming the door shut.
 
He looked at me sitting on the couch. I had enjoyed that little scene very much. I was smiling from ear to ear.
 
" So how was that for you? Do you think I should have letting him admire my flexed biceps?"
 
He hit a double biceps for me as he said that, and I took my dick out of my pants right away.
 
" Yeah," he said," have a real nice jerk off while I flex my muscles for you."
 
I had started masturbating already.
 
" Yes honey, I'm gonna flex a big load out of you."
 
I started panting and rubbed my cock faster and faster, as he flexed closer and closer to me. His manly scent invaded the room although he had just taken a shower. As I was about to reach climax, he kneeled down and flexed an arm against my prick.
 
" Perfect, babe, this almighty biceps wants your sperm, ejaculate all over this planet of biceps muscle, oh yes my love, how beautiful it will be to see your semen rolling down this amazing boulder of muscle, choose your favorite peak and bless it with your offering, as a celebration of your love for its absolute splendor"
 
I moved a bit on the left. He flexed even harder. He was blowing my mind.
 
"Oh yes baby it's my favorite peak too, its shape is so sexual, of all the peaks of my biceps it is the most sensitive, it feels so good every time you touch it, when you lick it, look how aroused it is, how hard you're making it flex with the caresses of your cock, it feels like my biceps is going to cum too..."
 
And I exploded with a big load indeed. Sergei got up, quite pleased with himself, and walked to the bathroom..
 
" So you're happy about your big win tomorrow?" He stopped right there, turned around, and his face was literally beaming with pure joy. " Not that it's big news to you nor me, but I already found a dozen of articles online crowning you as the only possible winner.
 
- Really ?
 
- Let me read you that one." grabbing my phone. "Today was the most important day that the world of bodybuilding has ever known. And I'm not exaggerating one bit. No other event could even start to be compared to the maelstrom that was the entrance of this year's Mr Olympia, His Majesty The King Sergei Krishnowsk, in the weight-in room.
 
- Oh darling please stop right there." He was back in front of me with his dick almost hard already " Please fondle my cock as you continue reading.
 
- Are you sure, your Majesty ?
 
- Like you would refuse a handjob to your King.
 
- True, there is no way I could refuse." I started handling the muscle mutant's plump cock. " For a few good reasons, you're the most beautiful, the most sexual, the most powerful, and the manliest human being who ever existed, because of your extremely developed muscles of course, but i must say that your penis confirms all these superlatives, and then some. I never thought a...
 
- Please read more, baby. It's not in the article, is it?"
 
It had turned him fully hard, though.
 
" Then again, there was no typo, there is absolutely no way, by any stretch of the imagination, for the Great Sergei not to win the first place trophy tomorrow. I will never forget the commotion that swept the whole auditorium, when everybody realized that the mountain covered with stretched red fabric passing through the door was actually a human being. Or something that once were.
 
- Oh yeah baby that's good, keep making your big freak of muscle happy....
 
- After a few minutes, the conversations slowly flew back to break the silence. But there was not a single eye in the room that wasn't glued to the astoundingly massive man in red we had identified as Sergei. And everybody was just exchanging their disbelief about the actual existence of that behemoth.
 
- Oh yes, I saw it in their eyes, people always do look at me in shock, but there the hole profession did, all the fans, that was so good, I couldn't wait to...
 
- *cough* *cough* But then the inevitable happened. The moment that we all had been expecting and feared at the same time... With the help of some guy called Jeffrey Matthew - come on, it's Matthews with an S you sucker...
 
- Keep on! Keep on!
 
A guy nobody ever heard of, out of nowhere, but obviously a very close friend of Sergei, his partner even, as the puny man is his only crew and help - if you ask me, that friend is certainly no stranger to the bodybuilder's drastic mutation over the last few weeks. Nobody knows who he's working for. So, with the help of his assistant, he managed to take off his jacket, and that is the exact moment, now engraved in the history of the sport, when all hell broke loose.
 
- Oh yeah, best time of my life...
 
- Nobody ever thought that muscles could get anywhere near so much hugeness, a true, real God was there before us, and we all were in shock. I didn't even take any picture. And before posting this, I checked if I could find any, and apparently, there is only a handful of blurry shots, and one shaky video lasting just a few seconds - but well on its way to reach a million view in less than an hour - this clearly demonstrates how devastated we all were by the hurricane of muscle filling the auditorium." And I have it right there, into my hands, are you listening to what I'm reading Sergei?
 
- Never been so hard, it's so good, love your hands buddy keep on...
 
- Oh I will obey my Lord. Have I told you Patrick Mentle wrote his?
 
- The... Mentle like the most respected journalist in the business ever? He's the one who... Fuck, more!
  • Like 16
  • Thanks 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[a lazy one, better than nothing I guess]
 
- The whole experience lasted about fifteen minutes. Then we all stood there in shock wondering... Er, talking about wondering...
 
- What? Don't stop stroking my dick! Keep on stroking my dick! What?
 
- Do you really want me to keep on reading or do you want my mouth on your cock instead? 'Cause I can hardly do both at the same time.
 
- Shut up! Shut up!"
 
I had asked him to think while wasn't really up to, but anyway I got my answer.
 
Oh I put all I could into my mouth. But there was a lot of licking involved. I got him to climax, swallowed plenty of his cum. After that he was so tired, he had a hard time eating his meal, then crawled himself to bed. Half conscious, he told me
 
" Come over, do what you do to make me bigger, I need to be even bigger tomorrow.
 
- I don't even know what I'm doing. And you'll be more than big enough tomorrow, you're still growing you know? You're way bigger than you were a few hours ago.
 
- Come to bed, lay close to me, come here now...
 
- I'm heading out for a smoke. Don't worry I won't be long..." But he was snoring already.
 
As I went to the elevator I met Gilford and a dozen of his staff, on their way to rearrange the second bedroom of our suit, maneuvering some heavy loads across the hallway, apologizing about the fact that he "couldn't get hold of all the ideal equipment on such short notice" but that "everything will be perfect at the first convenience tomorrow morning."
 
No, I just told them to try not to disturb Sergei who was already sound asleep.
 
I hesitated for a moment. I really needed to get outside and have a smoke. Did we have any important valuables in the room? Not really. Anyway, who would try mess up with the monster of muscle sleeping in there? Nobody.
 
Once outside I lit up. I really needed that cigarette. Less tense, I realized that in the lobby there were quite a few competitors hanging around. Even more so, it seemed, around the bar area in the back. It wasn't very late in the evening, around 11pm.
 
I had to check out that bar. The guys upstairs wouldn't probably be done installing the gym before an hour at least.
 
As I sat on a high stool by the counter, I wondered which of their whiskies would better match the taste of Sergei's semen.
 
 
 
  • Like 15
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
The bar wasn't crowded, but still there was about two dozens of patrons. As you would have guessed, almost all of them were bodybuilders. They were seated at the tables in small groups, enjoying their glasses of water, coffees, and tupperware meals. We were very few sitting at the counter. I ordered a 15yo Lagavulin.
 
I felt a great displacement of air on my left side, quickly followed by the landing of two massive forearms on the counter. I knew instantly who it was. The colors of his sleeves gave away which team he was on, but these magnificent, powerful paws could only belong to Michael Masfield. My heart skipped a bit, before starting to race like hell.
 
Oh yes, that's the kind of muscle fanatic I was, and am, and have always been. Since my teenage years I could recognize any competitive bodybuilder from the smallest detail of his physique. And in this case it wasn't just a small fry competitor, Michael Masfield had won the Mr Olympia title the past three years. And I had fantasized over close-ups of these hands countless times.
 
So, he ordered Perrier with a slice of lemon. I acted casual, like I didn't notice nor experience anything out of the ordinary, and fetched my glass to take another sip. I changed my mind and just held it on the counter, as I realized my hand would be shaking way too much. Then the impossible happened.
 
He turned towards me, laying his left elbow on the counter, and said
 
"Finally someone normal, not one of these roided abominations roaming all over this hotel!"
 
The statement was obviously referring to me. It took me a second to come up with an answer, and try to make it snappy.
 
" Hey, I'm a major musclehead myself, so hold your tongue and pay respect to the big guys you dweeb!"
 
He burst into heartfelt, genuine laughter. I looked at him broadly smiling, his head was tilted back so I couldn't have a good look at it yet, but I had more than enough to marvel at as his prodigal pecs were jumping and bobbing up and down, inside the silky training jacket, right before my eyes. Then he took a breath and leaned forward to look straight into my eyes. And before I could eve start to recover from the shock of witnessing the godly perfection of his manly facial features, eyes with a blue so deep that no camera could ever do it justice, jet black hair and blazing smile, he actually put his hand on my back.
 
Had he done that same thing just months before, I would have fainted straight to the ground.
 
But he didn't let his hand stay there for long, as he extended it in front of me to introduce himself.
 
" I'm Mike. Glad to meet you.
 
- I'm Jeff, Glad to meet you too.
 
- Are you there for the bodybuilding competition?
 
- Well I'm not into bodybuilding myself,' which was true in a way, "a friend brought me here, so... this stay is a new experience for me.' Also true. In a way.
 
" I already figured you weren't competing!"
 
We had a little laugh on that. He went on :
 
" You know, when I said I was happy to meet a normal dude, I was only partly joking.
 
- What do you mean?
 
- You see, I love my sport my friends, the spirit and all... But most of the time they always keep talking about the same shit. And on competitions, it's even worse.
 
- Oh I understand... a passionate crowd. So you like to take your mind off this a bit...
 
- Exactly Jeff! It's like a breath of fresh air. Worse, the people I meet who are not in the sport at all usually talk to me about nothing but my physique.
 
- I'm not going to believe you if you tell me you're not proud of your physique and enjoying being noticed...
 
- Yeah, you got me right. But you know, there's more to life than this." He looked at his glass, served at last., and let his 7'1'' body sit on the stool. "It takes such a huge place in my life already, it feels good when I have the chance to meet someone I can have a chat with about nothing and everything, it feels good to feel like...
 
- A normal person?"
 
He turned his head a bit to throw me a shy smirk and a sideways glance. There was a sparkle in his eyes of a different shade of blue.
 
" Yes. A normal person."
 
From then on we had the best conversation. About nothing and everything. Movies, series, video games, pet peeves, childhood souvenirs, we jumped from one topic to another and were having a great time, laughing all the time, like we had been friends forever. He completely ignored his party of friends sitting at a table in the back. At some point his friends stood up, came to him to say goodbye, he briefly introduced me to them. One of them said a few words to Mike on the side, softly enough so I couldn't hear, Mike looked surprised, and they shook hands again, and the guy left with the others, leaving us two alone at the bar. In fact, there was a handful of people left in the bar at that moment, and we were practically alone.
 
"Isn't that the what, fifth, sixth glass of whisky you're having?
 
- It's about that yes," I said as my seventh Laga was being handed to me.
 
" Aren't you drunk after all that?
 
- Oh, I feel a little buzz for sure but I wouldn't say I'm drunk. Plus I had a good meal beforehand so I'm fine, really." Lots of proteins. "It really is a fine scotch. You wanna taste?
 
- No, no sorry. I never drink, I almost never have had any alcohol.
 
- I guess it's not recommended in your line of work, especially with the contest tomorrow.
 
- The show is in a few hours, it wouldn't have much impact. In fact, it would probably make my vascularity stand out a bit more.
 
- I'm not trying to tempt you.
 
- You know, I might as well have one. Tomorrow's event is going to be a joke anyway.
 
- But my friend told me it was he most important competition of all bodybuilding?
 
- It is. I should know, I won it three times in a row the past three years.
 
- Wow. Congratulations."
 
He grabbed my glass and brought it to his nose.
 
" Pfew. Smells like strong stuff.
 
- Yeah, put it down, you're not gonna like it if you're not accustomed with it. Roger please, can I have a couple of shots of your best tequila for me and my friend.
 
- But tequila is pretty strong stuff too isn't it?
 
- Bad tequila will make you blind, good tequila will make you happy. So what is wrong about the competition this year?
 
- This year it's all set. That guy, Krishnowsk, one big guy who's been on my heels in competition for a while now, has doubled in size the last few months. And he's such an asshole to boot. The trophy is already wrapped up with his name on it. And... earlier..."
 
Mike didn't speak further. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts as the two shots appeared before us. I made one slide close to me. considering my options. And after some hesitation, I lifted up the evil drink and handed it to him, pulling him out of his reverie.
 
He delicately took it between two monster fingers, I took my own and we clinked them against each other, as he said
 
" To friendship.
 
- To friendship" I answered with a lump in my throat.
 
I may not have stressed this enough, but Michael Masfield certainly is the man I have fantasized the most about in my life. No one had ever come close to his combination of looks, presence, virility, height, and muscular splendor. Every atom of this God was more perfect than the next. And I had heard that he was a friendly and laid-back guy, and there he was. I could have killed to throw myself at his feet and learn that he had acknowledged my existence for a second, and there he was calling me his friend. I still have shivers to this day telling you that story.
 
Ah... you'd like to know that, hmm? OK you caught me implying I may have. But no, I didn't mess up with his drink.
 
No, I couldn't do that to Sergei. Screwing him up at the last minute. As much as a jerk Sergei is, he had been going out of his way to provide me with sensual muscle pleasure. Plus, he was the most muscular human being the world had ever known. And who knew which effect the serum would have on Masfield, if any, and within a few hours only? It could turn out to be a major waste of the precious liquid.
 
While Mike coughed and puffed because of the strong liquor, I wiped a tear off the corner of my eye. Our conversation restarted right away. We laughed even more than before, Michael was starting to get silly as the alcohol made its way to his virginal brain.
 
" Another round of these!" He shouted
 
" Please, Roger" I added. Roger didn't seem to mind being on closing duty for the last few patrons of the bar, I could see he was having plenty of fun listening to our cracks and jokes.
 
We clanked our glasses again.
 
" Jeff, you've been my lifesaver tonight. I really needed that. I'm so glad we met.
 
- Man, I'm having a great time, too." I waited for him to gulp down his shot, to add " Made me almost forget how much I hate your guts for being so tall and handsome and buff."
 
Perfect timing, half a second earlier and he would have spat his drink all over me, as I made him burst into another fit of laughter again.
 
Putting his shoulders back and his pelvis forward, still crying with hilarity, he grabbed his crotch to say
 
" And hung! You forgot hung! I'm hung like a goddam horse buddy!"
 
His endowment sure was generously filling his big hand with all he could grasp of it through his pants. This state of affairs was hardly a secret in the bodybuilding world, as every picture and every footage of the athlete in tiny posing trunks overwhelmingly demonstrated how gifted he was in the genital department, to the point of having become a long lasting running joke in the community.
 
The next few minutes Michael was a bit tense, because he felt like he had been bragging and trying to put me down with his all-round devastating superiority, something he hates to do and hates people doing that.
 
But right after that our banter rushed back with regained energy. Mike was starting to get seriously hammered, after only a couple of shots. He had his arm around my shoulders, almost leaning on me, and he was so loud - even though we were alone with Roger at the bar then, I felt concerned we could be heard all the way to the front desk.
 
Looking at him in the eyes, which were three inches away from mine, I said
 
" I"m going to have a smoke outside before calling it a night. Will you join me?
 
- Sure.
 
- Roger, thank you, on room 910 please.
 
- Shut up! No, room 206. The whole bill!
 
- OK Roger we'll sort that out we're back in five minutes."
 
Roger nodded with a friendly smile, as he wiped the last glasses of the night.
 
Mike was walking before me as we were heading outside, with a kinda dopey walk, and I could admire in full sight how majestic this man was. So broad, so tall, so massive. With a little distance it sprung back to my mind how blessed I was to be in his presence ; he was so friendly, so much fun, so clever, so 'normal', that I had almost forgotten that it was an absolute God of muscle and male beauty I was becoming friends with.
 
Once outdoors, the beast was unleashed and giving full range to his booze-enhanced wackiness.
 
Making rhymes with my name, jumping all around, stripping out of his jacket and tossing it away, hitting poses in his stringer tank top, jokingly, the way people make fun of bodybuilders. I just lit my cigarette with a loving smile on my face.
 
He calmed down, caught his breath, leaned against the building, his hands behind his back, looking at me.
 
I looked back at him. With my silly smile.
 
He stopped smiling.
 
What the fuck was on his mind. What did this look of his say. We were in the shadows, the light was quite dim, I couldn't read it. His sudden change of behavior got me worried. There are so many stories about bodybuilders hating "unwanted attention", beating the crap out of drooling muscle-loving gay scum, sometimes playing with them the way cats do with mice, sucking every last cent out of them, often having them coming back asking for more. I had always been afraid of falling into the clutches of a heartless power male bringing me down to the state of a helpless and servile rag. That was the main reason why I never had dared to contact or meet a bodybuilder during all these years. I was such a runt.
 
Of course I thought we had a friendly connection all evening. He was so nice and kind. In one side of my mind, there was no way he could be that kind of heartless predator prowling on an easy prey like me ; on another side of my mind, I thought that no matter how nice and kind the man was deep inside, it must be tempting to use such a tremendous power over another human being, especially when intoxicated ; on another side of my mind, I thought that there was no way I could have sounded as needy, dumbfounded, admiring, ecstatic as I actually was ; on another side of my mind I wondered how many sides there were to my mind, I was in full blown alcoholic daze and I couldn't have a clear judgement, I had to be ready to run fast, not that wanted to, once in the lobby I would be safe, not that I wanted to
 
As an answer I saw his face coming out of the shadow, as he was pushing it forward in my direction, his eyes closed. And pouting his lips.
 
" Give it to me" he said," normally I don't but I really feel like it now," pouting his lips anew, "give it to me buddy"
 
I had to react.
  • Like 14
  • Thanks 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Excellent chapter Cravvy!  I like where this is going.  I also almost dropped my iPad laughing so hard at: "on another side of my mind I wondered how many sides there were to my mind, I was in full blown alcoholic daze and I couldn't have a clear judgement"  Keep up the amazing writing dude, can't wait for more.

  • Like 3
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I had to react.
 
" What the fuck is wrong with you?" I said. I didn't shout it, I didn't sound scared, I just raised my hands on the sides with the palms upward, took a step back, did a confused/worried face, the cardboard cut-out "what the fuck bro" attitude.
 
" Come on, just a puff or two, you can have it back right after."
 
Then I just looked puzzled, how could I have thought he had meant anything else? For my defense, being alone in the middle of the night with a man of that size, whom I barely knew, a 300lbs man built like a barn, you can't help but having primal fears in your mind, as friendly as he may seem. The guy was packing such insane muscular powers in his superhuman body that it wouldn't take him more than an effortless snap of two of his fingers to make my head explode into a gory pulp splatter. Any unintentional gesture or stumble from him could result in the death of the people around him or severe injuries. Add in the equation that he was drunk as a skunk. And clearly not used to be.
 
As I didn't say a word, he opened an eye and saw the look on my face.
 
" What, do you... prefer if I smoke one on my own? Maybe you want me to... buy one from you?
 
- No no, don't worry, I'm just a bit slow after all that drinking. There you are"
 
I approached my hands to his face, gently put the filter to his mouth, and he inhaled the smoke as my finger were touching his lips. I could have cried right there. To make things worse, when he was done he opened his eyes and thanked me with his killer smile. Then coughed a few times.
 
" I'll be okay... These are rough aren't they ? *cough cough* I ain't no smoker, but the taste is perfect over alcohol, so I barely ever drink any, but when I do, I like to have a little nicotine over it.
 
- Wait, I had a pack of super lights in my pocket." I had bought it in some bar as it was all they had. " Have one of these instead, it'll be more easy on you.
 
- Thank you again, my dear Jeff."
 
He picked one, put it at his mouth and leaned again so I could lit it. The light of the flame made his facial features even stronger, sharper, manlier. He enjoyed this lighter smoke a lot more, a little at a time.
 
When I had finished mine, I faked throwing it away, then put the butt in my pocket instead. I wanted to keep a souvenir of this magical evening.
 
Suddenly something sprung to my mind.
 
" Damn, we almost forgot the bartender ! I said we'd be back in five at least fifteen minutes ago."
 
With that I went back into the hotel and hastily walked in the direction of the bar.
 
" Wait Jeff!" I heard behind me.
 
I stopped and turned around, Michael was coming, his sports jacket held over one shoulder. In the middle of the glaring, marble-covered lobby, the man looked more statuesque even while moving.
 
We arrived together into the bar area, and Roger was still there behind the counter, smiling at us. The stools were upside down on the counter, except for the two we had been seating on all evening.
 
I apologized right away.
 
" We're really sorry to have kept you waiting, Roger, we lost track of the time.
 
- No problem gentlemen, you have nothing to be sorry for. Your absence gave me the pleasure of seeing you coming back. Please take your seats back.
 
- Oh Roger, we'll just be on our way...
 
- These are on the house."
 
And he put on the bar two glasses full to the brim with tequila, that he had prepared for us. We politely sat down.
 
" Roger" I said, "you are too kind, you're staying late because of us yet you're offering us a round, you shouldn't have.
 
- I didn't have to, it is my pleasure to. Really gentlemen, I had a long and ungrateful day, but having the two of you at the counter really saved it all.
 
- Was your day that bad? It was quite busy with the convention, I would have thought you'd be happy about it.
 
- Not really, serving water and coffee, weird food orders, not much in the register at the end. And I am not to complain, but if I can tell you in confidence, some of the guests here for the convention are very rude and discourteous."
 
It was Michael's time to speak.
 
" I see exactly what you mean, my friend, but please try not to judge my colleagues too harshly. With the competition comes a lot of stress, they all have been preparing for it day and night for years and years, we have tortured ourselves with a grueling diet for weeks, so the nerves are put through a great ordeal. To make things worse, some have their aggressiveness going through the roof with the massive quantities of hormones and steroids involved.
 
- Certainly, Sir, but look at you! You must be the most impressive and muscular of them all, yet you're as nice and friendly and pleasant a man can get, Maybe with the exception of your friend right there.
 
- Well," answered Michael, "If I am to believe the word after the weigh-in this morning, I'm not the most muscular bodybuilder around anymore." Smiling even more, he looked Roger and me, and made the biceps on his right arm grow huge and swollen, masses of muscle inflating to form a sort of globe, weirdly shaped but sublime nonetheless, ant taking much of the space in the middle of our little party due to the dimensions it raised into, just because he was lifting up his glass. "But I'll drink to that anyway! Roger please pour yourself a glass and drink with us. On my tab."
 
Roger obliged in a jiffy and we clinked our glasses together. We had a sip and It was Roger, obviously at ease and relaxed, who was the first back to the conversation.
 
" So, I believe you two are brothers?
 
- No we're not.
 
- Childhood friends then. How far does it go back to?"
 
Michael and I heartily laughed at this.
 
" Don't be fooled," said Michael, "We've only known each others for a few hours. We've met tonight for the first time, right here at your bar!
 
- That's true Roger, I've actually known you longer than I know Michael. Not by much.
 
- But it's impossible! You have an incredible connection, the complicity between the two of you is so intense I could almost reach out and grab it! You laugh at the same jokes, you finish each other's sentences...
 
- That's right, man. But you know, I am as astounded by the bond between Jeffrey and me." Michael looked right into my eyes, with a serious face, and let the alcohol do the rest of the talking. "It is faster, stronger, deeper than any bond I have ever felt."
 
A little silence ensued.
 
" Same here, Michael. Same here." I wanted to switch to another subject. It was quite obvious now that he wasn't busy working and chatting with us, that our friend Roger was fascinated by spectacular hypertrophy of Michael's enormous muscles, so cut and defined under his paper-thin bronze skin. There certainly was more than Michael's connection that he was willing to reach out to, grab, and feel.
 
" So Roger have you ever attended a bodybuilding convention before? Not that you're really attending, but you see what I mean.
 
- No, I haven't. I must admit that these athletes have very impressive physiques. I would have expected men with muscles grown to such tremendous sizes to be more clumsy and lumpish, but I find most of them quite majestic and graceful.
 
- That is very nice of you to say, thank you Roger." It was Michael talking of course. "Wait for the last day, I assure you they will be a lot more relaxed and friendly.
 
- So Roger, that must be quite an experience for you.
 
- Absolutely Sir, I had never even seen a real bodybuilder in person before! Let alone a legend of the sport like Mr Michael here."
 
Michael looked down and smiled shyly.
 
" So Michael, what are you gonna do about it?
 
- About what?"
 
Bam, Michael had been having a few moments of awareness after the smoke break, but after a little sip of his third tequila his mind was back into the clouds.
 
" Michael, our friend Roger is discovering bodybuilding and likely to become a fan. And he won't be able to see any of the competition this week-end. So?
 
- Something I should do?
 
- Of course Michael! Do what you do best! Bring out the meat! Show off the beef! Take off that tank top and let your muscles explode all over the place! Don't you love nothing more in the world than exposing how drastically you have mutated your muscles into inhuman masses, shapes and sizes?
 
- Oh, oh yes, sorry, sorry."
 
Michael stood up and thanks to long-acquired automatic moves, he managed to strip off his shirt off in less than 20 seconds. Then he held himself upright, his waist raising a few inches above counter level, stuck out his shoulders, plastered the poser smile across his face without even thinking of it, and turned to Roger, whose lower jaw had dropped a few inches above floor level.
 
The gorgeous bodybuilder was about to become even more sublime, as he was about to make the miracle happen again, the miracle that was the flexing of his muscles, pose after pose, creating a fascinating, mind-blowing, muscular extravaganza. His veins stand out like never before. And he wasn't even having a fresh pump. Then again, he had been, until a few days ago, the most massive and powerful bodybuilder to have ever walked the Earth.
 
Me, I was having more than my share of insanely colossal muscle with my guinea roid pig Sergeï, and Michael's muscles were considerably smaller, but nevertheless, Michael's physique was so proportionate, the shape of every bulge and peak was so perfect, that he was nothing short of amazed and mesmerized by the display of this godly chest. The fact that he was having such a great connection with the man certainly helped the infatuation.
 
" They look... so hard... when... when you flex them..." - ah, good intervention from Roger at last, I thought I was going to have to do all the work.
 
Michael was as drunk with joy as he was from the tequila, glowing with pride, I could see he never got tired of overwhelming a devoted admirer with his profusion of muscle, hypnotizing a poor soul just by making them dance, effortlessly heaving and inflating hundreds of the deformed gobs and boulders piled up all over his body then let them flop back down with all of their weight. Once again he had turned his victim into a dopey, helpless rag, completely struck by the infamous beauty of the God before him.
 
" You betcha they're hard! Hard as steel! Touch that biceps!" And the bartender put one trembling hand, then two, on the largest peak of the biceps flexed in front of him.
 
Meanwhile, trying not to speak too loud, I continued with the aggressive talk I had started using. It was so much fun. And so hot.
 
"You love it, don't you Mickey? You love being nothing but a big piece of meat, a humongous pile of muscle, with no other purpose than being admired, worshiped, fantasized about, nothing but an object of lust, turning your body in the most obscene, ludicrous sexual organ you could be, and there you are, feeding on the desires of millions. In fact, you are controlled by your body yourself. You are the slave of your muscles, they have condemned you to hard labor ; constant, endless coercion to feed and serve them day and night, at the risk of screwing up your internal organs, unable to do anything else with your life. You are a voluntary, happy slave, glutton for torture."
 
Michael turned his head in my direction, frowning.
 
" You're pushing it a little, don't you think?" And he looked back at Roger,
 
Of course I would never have dared telling those things to him, that way, if I hadn't known he was well drunk. And as we were in full bromance mode, I thought I could get away with it.
 
"Your language is a bit aggressive," He added, "but when you look to the bottom of things, it's perfectly true."
 
At the comma after "things", Roger emitted a sorta-muffled cry, way louder than the little moans he had been making the last two minutes. He took both his hands out of the depths of Michael relaxed pecs, and brought them to his crotch.
 
" Sorry...." he muttered, "Have to... come back... one minute please."
 
Roger ran for the office and Michael sat back on his stool. He should be pleased having caused a touch-free orgasm to Roger, in quite a short time, but he didn't seem to be, looking a bit grim even. I must really have killed his momentum with my stupid comments. Or maybe is was getting sick because of the tequila.
 
It was neither, he had something on his mind in fact. And good tequila never makes you sick.He was hesitating to tell me :
 
" I was hesitating to tell you, but when my friends left long ago, one came whispering something to me, if you remember. He told me that i shouldn't be talking to you as you were the one and only assistant of Krishnowsk, he said they recognized you from the weigh-in. I had left the theater when Sergei arrived.
 
- And what is wrong with that? Yes, Sergei is the friend I told you about, who brought me with him to this convention. Why should that be a problem? We could have talked about it earlier if you are concerned by that, or considering it as an issue.
 
- No it's not a problem in itself, and I didn't want to talk about it because I thought my friend could have seen wrong or imagined things, and also I was there to get my mind off all of this.
 
- So we're cool?
 
- I gotta ask... Are you in the know of his secret?
 
- Secret?
 
- For having built so much muscular mass in a few months! He might have even grown taller or so I heard. 
 
- Oh I noticed of course, but I have no info on the exact cause."
 
Which was partially true, as I had ever been unable to create the molecule again, I'm not even sure of its exact structure.
 
" Come on, Jeffrey, Krishnowsk has doubled in size, fired all his sponsors, arrives here without a team and you, that nobody had ever seen in the circuit before apparently, as his sole assistant? I'm not buying it.
 
- I'm not selling anything, I'm not familiar with the circuit, at all, as you said, all he's asking from me is to apply tan and oil him, which doesn't take a Nobel prize. Though some training as construction painter would have helped.
 
- Oh, so he's so much bigger than me?
 
- He's bigger yes. Hey Mikey, it's not the time to worry nor feel sad. We should go to our rooms now, it's about 1AM, you won't get much sleep at this rate.
 
- But you sure you don't know how he grew so much.
 
- Look, even if I did I probably wouldn't tell you. I won't betray a friend.
 
- He's an asshole. You're a cool guy and he's an asshole.
 
- It's a facade... He's much nicer in private."
 
Which was partially true. He was much nicer to me anyway.
 
" OK big guy, let's move !" Michael had some trouble standing on his feet at first. I'll walk you to your room.
 
Michael looked back and called for Roger.
 
" Roger! We're leaving! Thank you and good night Roger!"
 
Said Roger came trotting out of the office.
 
" Oh goodbye gentlemen, and thank you for this extraordinary evening! Especially your demonstration Mr Michael, that was... really something I will never... It was fantastic. The best.
 
- Glad you liked Roger, see, I've been busting my ass flexing out for you. Look at that sweat all over my chest.
 
- Oh let me hand you a towel... No, no time for that. Come at the end of the counter so I can give you a proper goodbye."
 
Both took a few steps to meet there. I picked up Michael's vest and tanktop on the floor.
 
So bare chested Michael put his hands down on Roger's shoulder.
 
" See Roger, I don't care for a towel." He lifted his hands and grabbed the back of Roger's head with his right one." I'll use your face to wipe off my sweat instead!"
 
He lifted Roger off the floor with his one hand, and as he had just said, rubbed the guys head all over his muscles. As easily as he would have with a simple towel.
 
" So my little Roger, isn't that more convenient that way? I give you a hug and you helping me cleaning my chest of all that raw, smelly muscle sweat. Take a deep breath, I'm gonna stuck your little face between my pectoral muscles. I'll bury it there as deep as possible, try to reach the bottom of the riff with your tongue that would be great. Hmm, that'll have to do. Next the armpits... Sure you can lick there too if you want. Good." He said as he was putting the man back on the floor. I was scared he would break the guy's neck but it wasn't the case apparently. It wasn't over : Michael reach down to grab Roger's belt from behind. "Let's not forget the arms!"
 
He laid the guy's body over his left arm, that he had raised parallel to the floor, and rubbed the little chest over his biceps and triceps. Then he did the same for his right arm, holding him with his left hand. Before letting him down Michael laid Roger over his arm again, and made the biceps flex a few times. During the little rodeo, as they were inches away from each other, Roger admired the gorgeous and powerful face of his Muscle God, exuding maleness and nobility, with a dominating, yet very kind stare; and Michael was amused to look at the waiter's face, juming up and down, shaken inside and out, with a stupid smile, a dazed look, and an air of bliss-induced stupor radiating from the whole thing.
 
We finally left the bar. And lying on the floor, a trembling, convulsing Roger, crying tears of joy and gratitude.
 
During the elevator ride, Michael tried a few more times to get some intel out of me, without much success, all the more as understood maybe one word out of three of Michael's mumblings. After that good emotional and physical rush, his brain was back on low tide again.
 
We arrived at Michael's room. Said goodbye, shared a long hug, and just before closing his door it came to Michael's mind that we hadn't exchanged our phone numbers.
 
"- My phone must be around here somewhere...
 
- Don't bother Michael, there." I found some paper to write on in my vest, took my pen from my chest pocket, and after a quick scribble I handed the note to him."Don't lose it!
 
- Jeff, think we could have our breakfast together tomorrow morning, around 7:30 ?
 
- 7/30. I'll see what I can do."
 
And off I was to the elevator, made it climb to the ninth floor, and as I was about to slide my key into the card reader, to join my own, personal and absolutely unique ultra bodybuilder, a gigantic male that was barely human anymore, as I had turned him into a thing that was way more powerful, way heavier, and vastly more muscular than anyone had ever dreamed of ; so, at this moment, I realized I might have made a mistake that night, that could very well get me into some trouble.
 
You know, I haven't quit smoking.
 
No I'm not saying it was the mistake, I would like to go outside and have a cigarette if you don't mind.
 
For that you'll have to wait after my break !
  • Like 12
  • Thanks 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

So great.  

Although, if I'm nitpicking, the last thing a competition bodybuilder would do is drink the the night before a competition.  Alcohol bloats the body. ...but, I'm willing to suspend that belief because I'm loving the story.  One giant, 7 ft + bodybuilder is hot, but TWO??  Awesome :)

  • Like 1
  • Upvote 2
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...
 
But the evening had been so marvelous, the whole day even, that I had absolutely no intention of letting little details ruin any of it - and also, even if I wasn't really drunk to speak of, the alcohol certainly helped me to leave my petty concerns away, and lightheartedly, care free, I hummed Blue Moon all the way to my room.
 
To our room, Sergei's and mine.
 
I entered quietly in the oh-so-spacey suite, and I could see that our friend Henry and his staff had worked a lot on the furniture replacement/arrangement. The doors to the guest room were open, I went checking inside and I was amazed at the quantity of bodybuilding equipment they had packed in there. Plus the layout had to take the size of Sergei into account. Then I understood that they has teared down the wall in the back, so the gym extended to the next room. The hotel was supposed to be fully booked, what have they done of the people who had booked the room that was no more I had no idea.
 
Dumbbells and barbells ware scattered on the floor, benches were still damp with sweat. Bah.
 
Walking to the master bedroom, I realized that it wasn't some comfy chair next to its doors, but a pile of room service trays.
 
The guy was obviously enjoying the life of luxury. And taking full advantage of it. Why shouldn't he? In every way, he deserved any favor that could be offered to him. There simply was no present, no offering in the whole wide world that could be excessive, or even fitting his supreme majesty. The bodybuilder had not only raised far above the rest of humanity, humanity itself was unworthy of his existence.
 
Once inside the bedroom, I couldn't help but switch on a bedside lamp.
 
There was enough light from the living room for me to find my way around, but I simply had to shed more light on the larger-than-life ultra bodybuilder that was lying on my bed, an improbable pile of thousands of atrociously bloated globes of muscle spread over most of the Mega King++ matress, all the way to his feet hanging in the air beyond the end of the bed. Even the feet were beautifully misshapen as every single muscle in them was swollen to the max, his feet ware so rough, so powerful, they even emphasized the man's virility, when there was absolutely no way you thought it could be.
 
Unable to take my eyes of this unreal and unique life form, this breathing cathedral of muscular protrusions covered with veins and sinews and striations, I took off my clothes absently, and laid onto the bed. I didn't go under the sheets, as Sergei's body was hot as a furnace. The whole room had it temperature raised by several degrees
 
Before shutting down the light and resting my head on the pillow, I extended my head above him to try and locate his head. And there it was, quiet and soft like an angel, encased between pectoral muscles so full; traps so thick high, that you almost wouldn't notice his tree trunk neck. Then again, any nook, crevice, bump, cleft of his body hid a bunch of wonders and surprises, lines and cuts like no human body had ever shown before.
 
Ready to fall asleep, I embraced as much as I could of Sergei's upper left arm with both of mine, and closed my eyes. But Sergei started to move. He rolled towards me - thankfully, not over me - and muttered something like "Fuck me my love, fuck my biceps, fuck my pecs, fuck my calves... I want more, I need more..." but shortly after his light snore made its comeback.
 
I slept like a baby after all the excitement of the day.
 
A few hours later, Sergei woke me up, a few minutes before the alarm I had set because he couldn't wait. Like a kid on Christmas morning, yes. I would be having the responsibility of tanning and oiling his body before the show and he wanted to make sure I was up and ready. He looked even more incredible than the day before. We had been lucky with the timing, the serum's enhancements were at their peak for the competition. He was humongous, muscles bursting in all directions, his skin as thin as cigarette paper, and with virtually no body fat. The perfect freak. He hadn't even bothered to follow the pre-contest diet as strictly as he was supposed to.
 
We agreed that it would be preferable to show up for the contest at the very last minute : the lighting in the bathroom was very good, the training equipment at our disposal in the guest room was far superior than what they had downstairs and would give him a great pump, and of course, showing up at the last moment would maximize the intensity of the ground-shattering shock caused by the unveiling of this supernatural physique. He was about to unleash on a stunned world a whole new definition of the term "extreme bodybuilder".
 
As I got out of the shower I saw I had received a text message.
 
Hehe I see you're quite into my story aren't you? Guess who the message was from, then.
 
Michael Masfield you say? But how?
 
No. Nonono I didn't write down my phone number for him the night before.
 
No, that's not what I said.
 
Ah, I didn't say that I didn't give him my number, neither...
 
OK, you're right it was Michael of course. And not surprisingly, the mistake I had made the night before was indeed coming to bite me. It wasn't a disaster neither, but as I was just starting to put my chess pieces on the board it was important for me to master my communication.
 
So the message said something like "Hi it's Michael thank you again Jeff for such a great night, I have a slight hangover but my physique didn't take as much damage as I thought it would.  I hope we will keep in touch, see each other often and become great friends, but in the future, I would prefer if you refrain from lying to me. See you later Jeff." Seconds later he had sent another one, "Or should I say, professor."
 
Yes the cat was out of the bag.
 
How he had figured that out during the night? Quite simple in fact. The piece of paper I had found in my pocket earlier was a business card. At the moment I thought it was handy as my number was already on it. So had I just struck out the obsolete landline number and handed it to him. Unfortunately, it read "Jeffrey Matthews PhD, Director of research, muscular cells dpt."
 
Well, I answered that I wouldn't be able to have breakfast with him, but maybe dinner tonight, and as the contest would be over then, I would be free to talk more openly to him.
 
Sergei's basso profundo voice called me for duty, without having to care where I was in the property as his loud growl made the whole hotel's floor trembling.
 
" Come here Jeffrey my sweet love, it is time for you to make my superhuman muscular hypertrophy even more shockingly astounding."
 
I was still in a daze, not having slept much, my mind confused and baffled by the paradise my life was turning into, but I grabbed the of light-brown luggage on the left side of the room.
 
" Jeffrey, you have to come over and serve your God, I count on you my dear friend, what is wrong with you, aren't you craving to massage and fondle and please my half-ton of godly muscles?"
 
That suitcase was quite heavy and I was struggling dragging it to the presidential bathroom. I was short on breath, trying to shout that I was on my way resulted in a high whisper.
 
" Oh I need you Jeffrey, I'm nothing without you, you're the only friend I ever had, the only person I ever loved...I hope I haven't done or said anything to upset you, if I have I am really, deeply sorry, I would never make you feel bad on purpose, you know that my little Jeffy ? You know that this man adores you, and is at your disposal for your every pleasure ? You can ask me anything honey I would do anything for you, but please come and help me..."
 
I was almost there. It was weird, the way he was pleading, it even sounded like he was crying. I laid the suitcase on the floor and opened it, and inside I found, as advertised, cans of oil and tanning lotion. There should be more than enough to accomplish the task. A few feet away was the bathroom, the most spacious I had ever seen, but Sergei was standing in front of the grand mirror of the lavish marble double sink, close to the door, and his physique was completely filling the room with muscle. His right upper arm couldn't even fit in completely, the door frame was engulfed in the middle of the biceps.
 
Yes, I was afraid he was stuck in there and couldn't move, hence the fit of panic. but just he could have moved backwards as the room got more spacious further. But maybe, I thought, he was just enthralled by his beauty, and in particular the beauty of the hugeness of his muscles, and couldn't move away from his own reflection. Either way, he sure was tense and agitated, sweaty and shaking all over.
 
I put my comforting hand on his triceps. "I'm there, buddy," I said, "are you alright?"
 
His voice had gone a lot weaker, as he said
 
" Please... help me..."
 
Braving the danger, I managed to worm my way inside, climbing on, ducking under, and sliding through many slabs, gobs, boulders of muscle I almost got myself lost in, I finally reached the basins' counter. I turned around to face my companion, but carelessly so my head god sunk into the right pec ; I held my breath, and tried as hard as i could to move the pectoral muscle upwards with both my forearms, in order to slide underneath, and when I freed my skull out of its trap I luckily avoided a biceps flex coming my way that could easily have knocked me out.
 
Then I understood the problem, at last, without merit as was quite obvious, like, in my face, all over my face, the beast's almighty penis, aroused to an extent that only a prize-winning cucumber in a steel armor can understand, and there was no way, no way for any of his hands to get a grasp on the throbbing phallus.
 
Oh yes, believe me it really was big, like, this big.
 
Oh it's really quite simple, on his arms, his chests, the muscles were so big, that he couldn't bring his hands all the way to his shaft, barely able to brush it with the tip of his middle finger.
 
Haha you got it, I was at the right place at the right moment. I was the man for the job. The handyman for the...
 
I gently put my hands on both sides of the member. I had seen it before, touched it before, but it had never been, by far, in such a state, in such a size. I really was worried that its main vein was going to explode.
 
At that moment I stopped for a second, fully, realizing the situation. Right there, in front of me, against me, was a man, that wasn't even a man anymore. An entity, a living thing that was the most extreme, the most exaggerated, the most absurdly abusive incarnation of absolute alpha maleness and virile perfection, the ultimate God of delirious muscular profusion, the one and only most stunningly sexual, infinitely powerful bodybuilder who ever lived.
 
And I had him under my hands. Quivering. Begging me.
 
Then I've been an asshole. Or a bitch. Both probably. You decide.
  • Like 11
  • Thanks 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines, Terms of Use, & Privacy Policy.
We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..