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m/m My Grandad's Muscles [Omnibus Edition] UPDATED JUNE 3

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YESSSSSSS.  I remember this originally being posted and was blown away by how good it is!  So glad it's being reposted!

12 foot tall hyper bodybuilder grandpa, yes please!

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I remember the original also!  Amazing story's! Can't wait to read more! Thank you for bringing it back GRRRRRR💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻

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I'm working on the new chapter atm. I'm excited to see where I can take it, considering it was only meant to be a two parter. 

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1 hour ago, LORUS said:

I'm working on the new chapter atm. I'm excited to see where I can take it, considering it was only meant to be a two parter. 

My vote is for world domination :)

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Good news. I wrote another chapter. Over 5000 words. I'm just proofing it now. It'll be up in a while 😊

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A Follow Up To “My Grandad’s Muscles”


A lot can happen in six months. Some of it was truly great; Rod finally made an honest bodybuilder of me, and we got hitched in a private ceremony at our new island home. It was fast becoming a paradise, and then some. Rod’s gains had been considerable ever since Grandad started using a new formula of fertilizer on the oaks that supported the truffles. Thanks to his old science colleague from way back, Dr Weiss, of course. Sure, now that the oaks were growing on Ridge Island, the properties of the truffles weren’t as powerful as they had been back at the farm, where the buried chamber lay. Whatever was behind that wall had to be draining into the water that supplied the oaks, creating the amazing muscle-building truffles. Still, Grandad arranged to have supplies of the truffles ferried to and from the island, so that they could “quicken” and absorb whatever unique power was leaching into the groundwater. The truffles were titrated down into a powerful formula, which we now injected directly into our muscles. Rod was a pec lover, and so was I, but his pecs were way bigger than mine. He didn’t really care much for proportions, so whenever Grandad had a new batch ready for us, Rod always made sure he injected a little more into his pecs than into his other muscle groups. And he had some chest on him. But measurements will have to wait for now. I have a lot to tell.


Grandad continued to develop not only his immense physique, but his business enterprises as well. We’d all decided that living reclusively on the island was a tad boring, so Grandad took it upon himself to do two things: the first was to build a gay muscle-themed resort on the island, a place for gay men to be themselves, have fun, and build their bodies. A very diluted form of the truffle growth formula would be introduced into the water supply, but nothing along the lines of the dosage we massive three were used to. So male patrons could have their two weeks of fun on the island, and leave having gained a bit of muscle and looking a lot better than when they arrived. It was a clandestine thing to do, but Dr Weiss assured us this dosage was totally safe, and Grandad trusted his associate of many years. So more money came rolling in. We were massively wealthy, and could afford to make another addition to the island. It was an underground tunnel that stretched for several kilometres under the ocean to connect with Ridge Farm on the mainland. It had to be big enough to accommodate us, and incorporated a rail system to comfortably get us there and back. Only we knew about the tunnel, of course. Now visiting the farm wouldn’t involve getting airlifted in a musty cargo container.


Every so often we would return to the chamber to work on the wall. And each time we did we were bigger and way stronger than before. Grandad reckoned we had the combined strength of at least five thousand men, that is to say, if each of those men were himself a pretty huge bodybuilder. And we were still getting stronger. Grandad had the passageway and chamber dug out further to fit our massive bodies. We must have pounded that wall a million times, but lately the vibrations through from the other side had become more pronounced. We had weakened the wall, but it still wouldn’t yield to our power. We just had to become even stronger to make it behave like a soft putty. Ridge Farm — and indeed the entire town of Dundrevan — had become something of a social curiosity. Why did farmer Gordon Ridge need a security team to patrol the fenced off area? Amusingly enough, Ridge Farm earned itself a nickname from the media: “Area 52”. Folks claimed there were UFOs in the sky at night, but we never saw any. Grandad just laughed it off. He had enough money to buy off the right people and make sure that we didn’t become too hot a blip on the radar.


Further excavations revealed that the wall wasn’t a wall; well, not exactly. Turned out it had a domed roof from which the roots of the oaks that fed the truffles had flourished over centuries of time. It seemed as though metal and plant had fused at some point. But until we could get through the wall, the mystery would endure. We would endure also. We wouldn’t stop until we broke through. But it meant getting way bigger… and so much fucking stronger.




It was our three month anniversary since getting married. Rod had taken my last name, so he was now Rod Ridge; I know, it sounds like a pornstar’s name, and we often laughed about that. Even though we were very wealthy, we still made our own muscle-porn for the internet, and we charged a shitload for it, too. Why? That money went to help orphaned children, and to end child labour violations, something my Grandad felt strongly about. We never showed our faces though. Why not maintain an air of mystery about us? Besides, ninety-six per cent of our audience believed we were using morphing software to make ourselves look so huge. You’d have to pay to come to Ridge Island to see us in our full glory. The resort season was due to start, and Grandad was having a last minute meeting with the resort manager, Paddy Yung, so he was indisposed. Rod had a surprise for me. He left a note on his pillow, so that it was the first thing I’d see when I woke up on a fine summer’s morning. The note stated: 


Meet Me At Our Sexy Place. XXX”


The place to which he was referring was the first place we’d “Christened” upon moving to the island. It was cute and secluded, with an inlet that had formed into a cave from centuries of weathering and sea erosion. The beach was golden, and on a day such as this the ocean would be blue and crisp and utterly majestic. But when I got there, Rod was nowhere to be seen. But there to behold was a weight bench, massively fashioned to accommodate my now ten feet of height, and 7000+ lbs of sexy, rippling muscle. I smiled at the nice gesture. Rod had even supplied a pink bow for presentation. It must have weighed over a hundred tonnes, including the rack support and bench itself. As for the weight on each end of the reinforced bar: two oil trucks had been welded and riveted in place. There was a card: 


“Happy Sort of Anniversary, honey. And before you say you can bench two oil trucks with your pinky for 50 reps, Each tanker is filled with high grade concrete. Happy lifting. XXX”


He had to be watching from some place nearby. We had excellent vision, so we could see from a long ways off. I was just wearing a jockstrap, my favourite kind of clothing. Sure, we had other clothes in our roomy closet, as we still felt the cold in the wintertime, but for now we were happy to muscle-strut around in our oversized, specially tailored super-jocks. Still, my cock was so swollen along with my balls, as I’d been denied my morning sex. Rod knew this. He also knew that to deny me what I wanted only made my balls swell hugely with tonnes of muscle jizz. He was so going to get filled to bursting point by the time I was done with this little stunt.


“I know you can see me, naughty boy,” I hollered playfully. Well get a load of this. I ripped off my jock to better allow my junk to swell and bloom. I was ten feet tall, but my dick, when fully erect, was now a jaw-aching six feet long and four feet thick. It was a monster. Still a lot smaller than my Grandad’s muscle-god wedding tackle, mind. I cranked out pose after pose, deftly hitting each one so that my muscles bulged and swelled to monstrous proportions. More and more highways of veins erupted all over my skin, and I gazed in awe at the fact they were bigger than yesterday. Muscle begat more muscle; even the veins that fed them looked like they were growing muscles of their own (themselves not unlike the root structures of the mighty oaks that nurtured our amazing truffles). I was a massive god of musculature. I swelled wider and wider as I shot out a massive full lat spread which almost completely swallowed up my head. I expanded my ribcage to push my massive pectoral masses outward and upward. My lats expanded into manta wings, and they, too, bulged with thick, dark veins. I formed a stomach vacuum to diminish my waist and  make my upper body look like it was flaring even bigger and wider. I noticed a small yacht on the horizon, and the glint of binoculars reflecting the sun. It seemed I had an audience. That pleased me. I wished to flex further and make everyone on that boat cum like they’ve never cum before. I could be mischievously wicked if I wanted to be, especially in the throes of muscle lust.


I loosened up my muscles a little before deciding to try the gigantic bench press. The boat was drawing ever closer. Good. I took the correct position on the bench and lay back, expertly positioning my big, weight-calloused hands on the mega-bar. Once I felt comfortable I took the strain. Hmm… it felt somewhat unyielding. Rod had been diligent when it came to gauging my strength.  Clever bugger. But it annoyed me that I couldn’t move the trucks an inch. I sat back up. Fuck, my nauticul audience wouldn’t be getting an eyeful this morning. Then I spotted something glinting near a rockpool. I ventured over and spotted a small metallic case. I knew exactly what this was. There was a note and a syringe inside:  


“Dear Gorgeous Muscle Husband of Mine. In case you’re having trouble lifting two oil trucks filled with concrete attached to a reinforced bar, I thought you might like a little something to help you go HUGE or go home. Love and Kisses, RR”.


I couldn’t believe it. It was a concentrated dose of the truffle solution — made from only the highest quality truffles — from Grandad’s private stock. This was the batch he highly coveted, and only dished out sparingly. If I took the whole thing at once, I’d get absolutely huge, especially if I lifted the heaviest fucking weight I’d ever attempted — and for as many reps as possibe — directly after taking it. The ever-approaching boatload of onlookers would get a show they’d never forget if they saw that. I was so tempted. My lust for muscle growth was so profound, this felt like what it must be for a junkie to be given a bag of smack and told they can look but not touch. Or something like that. Bad analogy maybe. I decided to take just a small amount of the dosage. Just enough to lift that fucking weight. I often wondered why Grandad didn’t just give all three of us all the good stuff he had, so that we’d grow monstrously huge and muscular, and thus get that wall demolished. Yes, he was as lustful of and obsessed about his bodybuilding as we were, but lately he was becoming more mindful of our growth rates. I guess it pays not to get consumed too much by one's passions. And he had an empire to run, too. We needed to ground ourselves, not too much, though. Just enough so that we could be gods amongst men, but not too big that we destroyed the world. Meagre men were doing a pretty good job of that on their own. But let’s keep politics out of this.


I stuck the needle into the most prominent vein on my left forearm. It worked better if injected in the groin, but then my dick and balls would grow at a substantially greater rate than my muscles. I wanted pure muscle growth from this and nothing but. I pushed the plunger and didn’t even feel a sting. Then I repeated the process with my other arm. I was tempted to give my biceps and pecs a few jabs as well, but I now knew enough about using this stuff  to know what the desired effect would be. I felt the usual warming and tingling sensation as the formula quickly mixed with my blood and endocrinatic fluids. Before I was back on the bench, I was already growing.


It’s impossible for a normal mortal man to experience the sensations of muscle growth combined with heavy lifting, alongside a miraculous substance rewriting your insides. The feeling is like a thousand orgasms raging inside you at once, plus a feeling of unbridled gains in strength. The skin-tightening as my muscles increased in density and volume also added to the feeling, and I really felt like I was going to fucking explode. As I took the strain of the bar, I once again felt it resisting... at first. I growled and bellowed to further heighten my muscle lust, and this in itself was enough to goad my growth and make more of it happen. The bar wobbled as I adjusted my grip slightly. Then I roared with masculine thunder as I not only held the weight in my grip, but slowly began to push it upwards. My skin flared red and new networks of veins exploded from every muscle. I could feel my bones creaking and shifting as they adjusted to accommodate more and more extra muscle mass. The bar began to bend as it struggled to hold the enormous weights on either end. But I knew it would just about be up to the task.


I completed one rep… then two… six reps… twelve reps. I was growing bigger, getting stronger. I didn’t want to stop, because my muscles were not getting fatigued. In fact, I felt the weight getting lighter and lighter as I grew bigger and bigger. The bench beneath me began to groan as it struggled to support my increasing mass and weight. How much was I gaining anyway? There was no way to tell. I began to choke as the muscles in my neck expanded and pressed on my windpipe. This was fine; it had happened before. I coughed a little and almost dropped the weight, but then my windpipe fought back, becoming more resilient, so that my breathing normalised. I continued with more reps. Looking forward as I pressed the weight upwards, all I could see were my enormous, bulging pectorals bunching together, squeezing tighter and harder as more and more striations divided the tightening skin. My muscle tits ballooned with size and power. I felt my ab cobbles getting bigger, tighter and more defined. Dozens of inches broke forth across my biceps and forearms, making me bigger and stronger.


“Fuuuck! I’m getting huge!” The two trucks began to feel weightless to me. I was dizzy with power and muscle lust. My dick shot a massive load of jizz high into the air. It arced downward and fell on me as sticky rain. I managed to lap up some of it, and the taste made me even hornier with muscle lust. I roared some more and my orgasm intensified. Then after what seemed like one hundred reps, I felt the oil truck barbell yanked from my grasp and tossed away like it was weightless. 


Rod was down on me, completely dominating me with his — gasp! — incredible hugeness. Even though I’d grown even bigger, Rod now not only matched me muscle for muscle, he was much bigger than I was. At first I thought it was Grandad, intervening after finding out Rod had taken something without his permission, and I feared a punishment. But it was just my beautiful, huge, manly husband, only huger… way huger than he’d been the evening before when we fucked into the early hours of the morning.


“SURPRISE!!!!” Our combined weight was too much for the bench and it buckled beneath us, not that we felt a thing. Cast iron was like tinfoil to ones such as us. Rod was insatiable, and his strength was… well, greater than what mine currently stood at. He dominated me completely, and he was still swelling in size before me, so I guessed he’d also taken some of the good stuff. Grandad would be fucking pissed about this. Thinking about that kinda ruined the moment, but I seriously wanted Rod to fuck the bejayzus out me, and vice versa.


“Fuck, Rod… you’re huge,” I gasped. Then I turned my head to catch sight of the yacht now beached on the shoreline, and wedged in such a way that it wouldn’t topple over in the sand.


“What th—?”


“Brought us a little audience, darling,”Rod growled between sucking my face with his delicious lips. Then he began rubbing his pecs up and down my face, neck and chest. I squealed with delight to see that his pecs were much bigger than I remember, and my tongue sought to taste them.


“You suh-swam out to… the… gasp… boat?” I barely noticed some people on the deck. Some were civilians, whilst others were dressed as crewmen in matching sailor-esque uniforms. All of them were fondling their dicks and getting off to the massive muscle-men giving them a show they’d never forget.


“Sure did. I’m so fucking strong now. Way stronger than you, sweetie. Guess I’m the master of this marriage, now. Heh heh!”


I wanted all of him inside me at once. We were versatile, so flip-fucking was our thing. And we always came inside one another. Absorbing each other’s jizz like this meant that not a drop went to waste. It would all contribute to building our bodies even bigger. Rod was in charge. I didn’t care. He gripped each of my ankles and pushed my legs up overhead. I was surprisginly supple, even with so much muscle mass. In this way my quadriceps pushed against my pecs, causing both to bulge insanely and acquire even more mass. I wanted to get huge, bigger than Rod, so that I could take charge of the situation. But before that happened, I allowed him to penetrate my gaping bodybuilt hole with his five and a half footer. I just about accommodated him before his growth spurt. But now? This time it hurt. It hurt a fucking lot. Not that I complained. I was too much buried in the throes of passion and muscle lust that I welcomed the pain. No pain, no gain, right? Rod was bigger all over now, and his dick had gotten longer and thicker. The ribbing caused by the massive explosion of veins across his dick drove my g-spot nuts. I bucked and trembled beneath him as almost 10,000 lbs of muscle mass bore down on me and drove his hammer homeward.


I screamed out with a mixture of bliss and pain. The two became a perfectly balanced addiction. I didn’t want it to end. We could hear the men on the beached yacht moaning out their own pathetic little orgasms, which caused Rod to scream out: 


“Yeah, fucking cum for big Rod, you gnats. Cum all over your pathetic little bodies as two real men show you how it’s done. GRRRRRRR!”


Rod fucked me profusely. Then his massive strength easily flipped me over so that he could do me doggy style. Our sexual versatility allowed us to enjoy a myriad of pleasurable styles and positions, so long as it involved more and more massive muscle growth and worship.


“You like getting speared by my whale dick, honey? Fuck, I even out-dick a fucking sperm whale. Well take my super fucking sperm now, gorgeous man!!!!”


Rod spilled his seed into me. I actually felt my insides swell as he pumped and pounded hundred of liters of his powerful jizz into me. I knew my incredible body would use it to make even more muscle. I welcomed every drop. It helped me to grow. I began to push back against Rod’s 'rod', harder and harder, which in turn goaded him to muster up even more strength and power as he rode the crap out of me. 


“Feel me getting bigger inside you, darling. I’m not done growing yet, not by a long shot. Turns out I took a lot of the serum. Gotta get the wall down, honey. First up, tho, I need to break your wall. Heh Heh!”


I was loving this. I kept pushing back stronger and stronger. I was getting bigger, all of my muscles filling out even more than before. My glutes ballooned, seeming to pull on Rod’s cock more hungrily than ever, and it made my hole feel tighter. The pain and the ecstasy increased, along with our muscle lust.


“Fuck me more!!!” I implored. Rod was only too happy to oblige. He couldn’t stop himself now, even if he tried. As more and more length and thickness came to his dick inside me, so his masculinity intensified, and his lust to fuck me senseless increased to a near-uncontrollabe level. I hoped this would never end. 


“I’m just getting started, Stevie. Feel my power. Marvel at my growth!!!! I’m getting even bigger! Gonna fuck you more, sexy bodybuilder!!!”


He rode me harder, and more intensely. We created something of a sandstorm from our actions, but we didn’t care, nor did it impair our pleasure. Rod was amazing at fucking me. Our orgasms seemed without end. My stomach began to bulge outward as he filled me with even more of his gorgeous jizz. His balls seemed incapable of emptying. Our screams of bliss as we climaxed caused nearby nesting birds to scarper into the sky en masse. We didn’t care. If a tidal wave hit us now, the heat of our lovemaking would turn it to fucking steam in a second.


“I love you,” Rod growled, gyrating his dick around in me to further heighten our mutual pleasure. He began to weaken as he pulled out of me and allowed me to roll onto my back where I lay to catch my breath for a moment. Then Rod collapsed beside me and we held each other warmly and lovingly.


“Thank you for that,”I I gasped. And Rod leaned over to kiss me long and hard. Then:


“Grandad’s going to be pissed at us. He’ll flip when he finds out you were into his special reserve,” I admonished.


“Ah fuck it, Stephen. I’m sick to my eye teeth of going to that wall every month or so, and pounding away at it like an imbecile, only to leave a few new dents to add to our growing collection. I’ve better things to be doing, and so do you. Gordie will just have to go with it. The faster we grow, the sooner we’ll be able to solve this mystery. Aren’t you fed up not knowing too?”


I must admit, my husband had a point. It was time to confront my Grandad and sort something out. My attention turned to the yacht. It was nothing fancy, a mediocre pleasure craft at best. She was called “The Avril Oceanic”, which I thought was fucking stupid. I decided to go check on those aboard. It was amazing. I was almost eye-level with the main deck, so I was easily able to address the groaning, lusty-eyed post-wank occupants. They were rich, gay preppy boys by the looks of them. I noticed a brocure on the deck from our resort, so they were obviously booked in for two weeks of sun, sea, sex, and… well, a little surpise if they drank the water. 


“Hey there, welcome to Ridge Island. I’m Stephen Ridge. Hope you enjoyed the little show from my husband and I,” I said politely.


One of the preppies — probably the rich little douchebag whose father owned the boat — stumbled to his feet and approached the guardrail.


“Shit, you’re fucking bigger than on the internet,” he gasped. Naked from the waist down, his baby dick bobbed and grew rigid in a trice. 


“Thanks for the compliment. We’re always trying to gain more and more muscle,” I said, nodding towards my now sleeping husband. Rod was one of those types who could sleep anywhere at any time. I wasn’t like that. Oh well, at least he’d sleep off his orgasm and probably grow bigger during his nap, I hoped. I decided to give Preppy Boy a little muscle show. He was joined at the rail by two of his similarly clad cronies and one of the crew. The rest lay passed out on the deck. I noticed a lot of empty booze bottles lying around. The boat reeked of booze and avarice.


I decided to work some blood into my even larger biceps. I jiggled them a little before bringing them up and snapping them into a massive double biceps pose. Alps of muscle shot up from my magnificent flesh and gorged on free space as I tensed and hardened them. The granite summits of my biceps cast shadows over my bunched fists, and never before had my biceps gained such mass and height. I looked up at each of them and gasped. I was monstrous. My dick grew bigger and harder. I should have shot into Rod, only he’d fallen asleep. Fuck it. I wasn’t going to waste this fresh load. I turned out pose after pose, much to the delight of the gay preppies. They shot their little loads and  ‘oohed’ at my show in between their groans of bliss. I noticed that my lats were now so big, my mammoth, engorged arms could rest easily on them in a horizontal position with my elbows pointed upward. I’d never be able to dress myself again, but fortunately, we had  staff for that.


I bounced my colossal pecs many times, working more blood into them. I did a side chest pose, to highlight just how much my pecs jutted out from my body. My nipples were gigantic, dark and moist set into areolas the size of hula hoops. My insides were swollen with Rod’s mega-jizz, and even though a fair bit of it was oozing out of my bumhole, most of it would go into my muscles. I flexed harder and harder, crabbing down into a most-muscular that almost caused all of the boat’s crew to pass out in shock and lust. I couldn’t believe how powerful I was becoming. And I was still growing. A fresh batch of cream quickly overwhelmed my balls again.


I couldn’t hold my load in any longer. I was so caught up in my free muscle show for the preppies, that I neglected to turn my cannon away from the yacht. From port to starboard, bow to stern, the boat was hit with a tsunami of spunk, the force of which actually upended the hull completely out of the sand. I couldn’t believe how powerful I’d become. Upon realisation, my cock grew thicker and longer still. As did I. I was growing bigger and bigger, becoming a larger bodybuilder than before, bodybuilding and bodybuilding and growing without any effort whatsoever. It forced more and more jizz production out of my balls. I screamed:










Soon my dick was shooting barrage after barrage of jizz at the boat, with force sufficient to rip it from its sandy moorings. My ejaculate sent it back into the water, relaunching it along a trail of slick, salty cum. The occupants hung on for dear life. I hoped I didn’t hurt any one of them, but I couldn’t help myself. I then heard screams, and pleas to stop. I orgasmed further, and stronger, waking up Rod, who quickly came to the rescue. He managed to get out to the boat and restore its proper orientation in the water. I must admit that as my climax subsided, I felt like puking when I saw how much jizz my whopper dick and balls brought into being. It was like the opposite of an oil slick, in that it was milky cream as opposed to tarry black.


Once I got my bearing, I waded out into the mucky mixture of spunk and salt water, and helped Rod rescue the occupants of The Avril. Once we had them on dry land, Preppy Boy Sr. had something to say:

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer. And Nate’s lawyer, and Ethan’s lawyer, and Duncan’s lawyer. And just so you know, our lawyers are our dads, so you big monoliths are going to be drowning in lawsuits for fucking years.” He wasn’t pleased at all, the spoiled little shit. Pricks like these couldn’t get through life without their fathers throwing money at every little bump in the road life threw at them, before suing the crap out of anything that moved.


“Hey, pipe down, ya little prick. My Grandad’s the biggest, richest, most powerful fucker on the planet. We’re not scared of your petty threats.”I bounced my pecs considerably. I wanted to appear intimidating now just because I didn’t much care for Preppy’s attitude.


“Yeah, we saved your asses. Show some gratitude,” added Rod, ballooning and rolling his pecs for the fun of it.


It was then that a huge shadow fell over this part of the beach. No it wasn’t fast approaching storm clouds to ruin an otherwise perfect day. Instead a storm of another sort made itself known. My Grandad came down upon us like a massive avalanche. He didn’t look happy. In fact, he was far from it. Preppy and his chums passed out in fright, which was for the best, really. I’d seen Grandad throw a tantrum before, back on the mainland when I first arrived at the farm. I knew what he was capable of. Only this tantrum would be far worse, considering how fucking huge he was now. This wouldn’t bode well for Rod and me. The last thing I felt before unconsciousness claimed my senses was the biggest, most muscular arm in  all of creation reaching towards me to curl thick calloused fingers around my massively muscular neck. I tensed every huge muscle on my body and closed my eyes. 


Yeah, in summary, a lot can happen in six months. You have to learn to take the sour with the sweet. Rod made sure I received a hefty dose of sweet, this day. But now came the sour.

Grandad was fucking pissed.

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  • LORUS changed the title to My Grandad's Muscles [Omnibus Edition] UPDATED JUNE 3

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