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Wet Dreams May Come Part 8


FREaky

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Wet Dreams May Come - Part 8

by F_R_Eaky

 

Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2388-wet-dreams-may-come-part-1/

Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2402-wet-dreams-may-come-part-2/

Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2407-wet-dreams-may-come-part-3/

Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2419-wet-dreams-may-come-part-4/

Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2420-wet-dreams-may-come-part-5/

Part 6: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2426-wet-dreams-may-come-part-6/

Part 7: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2437-wet-dreams-may-come-part-7/

 

There were quite a few stares, gasps, and comments on the underground ride, but it would be worth it.  The Three Bars Pub has some of the best food around and at very reasonable prices, plus Devon had a feeling he might be able to get some food and drinks for free.

 

The Three Bars Pub was a place Devon used to come to on the weekends while studying in college.  He had tried to work out then and do it religiously in order to build up some mass, which of course never happened, but he garnered the respect of quite a few iron jocks for his tenacity and understanding about what it meant to seriously lift.  After spending so many hours in the gym, he was invited to come to the Three Bars Pub by many of the regulars, for the Pub wasn't named because it had three alcohol serving counters inside; well, it did, but the real reason it was named that was it was a hangout for iron lifters: strong man competitors, athletic models, wrestlers (regular, ring, and arm), gymnasts, power lifters, and bodybuilders.

 

Devon opened up the front door and eyes began to stare.  Everyone of course looked up just to see who was coming through the door, but then the stare downs began.  Nigel, the owner and barkeep stared at the short young man and then began to smile when he realized who it was.  Devon went to look for familiar faces, but his eyes caught sight of the sign advertising the five pound plate special: Five pound burger, plus large order of chips, and a large drink Fourteen Pounds -Free if you can eat it all within thirty minutes.  Everyone else, even if an old friend of Devon's, their eyes when to the backdrop behind Devon and the door frame.  Since the entire doorway was filled with a man's shirt and pants and those were filled with an extremely large man, everyone immediately began to whisper.  The chattering din was broken by Nigel.

 

"Devon!  As I live and breathe!  Long time, son!  What brings you in here today?"

 

"Well, Nigel, it was to introduce a friend to good company, good food, and at fair prices, but I think  He's going to need the Five Pound Plate Special."

 

The room got deathly quiet, and Nigel stared hard at Devon.  "No offense, mate, but we all know that person can't be you.  Stuffing five pounds of burger, plus chips and pints in you would make your tummy so extended you'd look like a novelty kettle ball.  And what is that tacked on my door out there behind you?"

 

"There's nothing tacked on the door behind me, Nigel.  That would be Drake.  The man who needs that five pound special.  Drake, duck and twist, buddy."

 

If the room was deathly quiet at the mention of some ONE trying to take on the five pound special alone, the room became eerily, maddeningly quiet now.  No one could believe the size of the gent coming through the doorway now: shoulders broader than the doorframe by at least twice as much.  When he stood he actually stood head and shoulders, plus a small bit of chest, above the door frame, let alone the doorway.  Chest so thick and barreling, it entered the room about five minutes before he did.  Back and lats so wide and thick, with arms equally if not more swollen and hard, it looked like he was almost always doing an impersonation of an airplane his relaxed stance had his arms stuck out so far.  Legs, neck, hands, and feet to match.  There were more than a few whistles, jealous stares, and wet spots from the assembled pub crowd.

 

Nigel had to lean onto the bar for support, but regain his composure and called out, "STEPHEN!  WE HAVE A CONTENTDER FOR THE PLATE LUNCH!"

 

This sent a roar of cheers from the gathered crowd and flurry of activity: Stephen came flying out the kitchen door to see if he heard correctly and he nearly dropped a load in his pants when he saw the size of Drake, several regulars did one of two things: ran out the door to go get friends, or flipped open their phones to call friends to come down here on the double.  Nigel went and asked a couple of blokes if they could move so Drake and Devon could have a booth, as he was pretty sure none of the chairs in the pub would support Drake.

 

Soon after sitting down, a crowd gathered round the table Devon and Drake were at and Devon fielded questions for Drake like he was a manager of some prized fighter.  Drake smiled the whole time, one because he was quickly become enamored to Devon for all his quick thinking and creative answers to his life background, and two, he began to realize he, or his body, was becoming quite the object of affection and admiration.  Perhaps Devon's taste in men was the right thing for him to use as a body sculptor after all.

 

Of course, there were those who were in utter disbelief, added to those who were completely humiliated by Drake's size.  They had a chance of at least maybe being considered a big man, a strong man, a manly man, amongst most regular mortals, but when there walked in a man with arms so big around, it looked like if he could squeeze his forearm through a toilet and then flex, the upper arm would burst the loo, there was no hope for them.  Drake made them actually and mentally feel like children, primary grade school children.  So this in turn led to the show us your muscles pose offs.   Devon showing Drake how to peel his shirt sleeves back and then flex.

 

The flexing then led to accusations of him being built but it had to be all soft, no substance, no strength.  This in turn lead to a series of competitions beginning with arm wrestling.  WHAM!  WHAM!  WHAM! WHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAM..... No one stood a chance.  Thirty three men in about eighteen minutes, arms down and pinned.  Which then of course led to the true acts of strength.  Drake spent the next few minutes lifting men off the ground, just themselves, then lifting a man sitting in a chair, then two men in a chair each - both single handed, then three men on one chair, and finally Drake became the anchor for a power lifter - bodybuilder- athletic model -gymnast pyramid, able to support about twenty guys positioned on top of him, no sweat.  He even got into a game of catch with some medicine balls, a kettle ball, and eventually a bar stool foot rest that once was a World Strongest Man competition ball.  The crowd was amazed at how easily he could hold and catch it.

 

Over the course of time more and more of the regulars, plus many visitors came in and finally all of the members of the Three Bars Pub Iron Team were there and the President called for the back doors to be opened.  This sent a cheer through the crowd as if one had announced the end of a war or the announcement of a Royal marriage.  Still waiting for all of the food for the plate to be cooked, they led Devon and Drake into the back room, which was an entire gymnasium.  The crowd pushed Drake towards a bench press seat and began to chant, "BENCH! BENCH! BENCH!"

 

Devon ran over and began to help load the plates up, very quietly explaining to Drake what he needed to do until Drake nodded back and smiled that he understood.  Devon had done some quick calculations  to estimate what should be on the bar, but he forgot that he didn't lift all that much and that the amount of weight goes up exponentially as one gets taller.  Still the crowd was set to be impressed as Devon had them 575lbs on the bar.  Drake of course pretty much lifted the thing one handed.

 

Devon burst out laughing... "I'm sorry guys... I was thinking about what I'd like to be able to bench one day."

 

 The crowd roared in laughter and cheered and egged Devon on, who went about to help setting more plates.  However the crowd stopped him every so often just so they could see Drake press it, even if it was still light as a feather to him.  On and on it continues... 600.....650.....700....750.....800.... they were getting two sets of weighted bars now and hooking them together with an "H" shaped holder that Drake could grab onto in the middle.  1,000...1,200....1,400.....,1,800....2,000....2,200.....  finally Drake seemed to be having a little difficulty.  The presses were getting slower, more controlled, and making him sweat.  Everyone agreed that he was near his max weight and the proceeded to take it up in much smaller increments now.  Little by little they kept adding the weight on.  The crowd kept cheering "Go! Go! GO! GO!" which by the end as Drake was receiving such a good pump in both his chest and arms from this workout, they began to mix in the word, grow.

 

"GO! GROW! GO! GROW! GO! GROW!"

 

Finally they had reached the maximum bench weight Drake could handle.  He took the last rep down, let out several deep breaths, began to push up, began to strain and grunt a little, began to slightly arch his back until Devon jumped in and helped him to keep focused and kept it flat and level.  His veins were popping out all over his body. Sweat was coming out in every pore making his shirt wet and nearly see through.  His arms and chest swelled as he struggle and pushed and pressed, until finally with a loud rip his shirt sleeves and front gave way, just blowing up and revealing his pumped arms and chest.  With those rips came a deafening roar as with every last ounce of strength in him, Drake hoisted the bar up and then down into its cradle.  His max rep coming in at 2,300 pounds.

 

The crowd went ballistic.  Cheers blew the roof off of the pub.  Some men were crying out of sense of loss, others were crying out joy, many went to slap Drake on the back in congratulations, while others quickly ran for the bathroom to wipe the insides of their underwear out, and many turned to pay losses or collect winnings on side bets that had been going the whole time.   The crowd cheered him on to just rip what was left of the shirt off, which he did so and Devon egged him on and showed him how to growl and do a most muscular crab shot like the Hulk.  Folks had to take pictures left and right of just Drake, or them with Drake, or them photo bombing Drake and someone else getting their picture taken.  Everyone wanted to buy Drake a round, some even wished to include Devon, too, but Nigel had to tell them all he would hear none of it, as at this time the man's lunch plate was now finally cooked and ready...

 

Sitting back down at the booth, after wiping himself down with a towel, Drake's mouth watered as he was presented with the five pound hamburger, chips, and a large drink.  The crowed oohed and ahhed once again as Drake actually picked up the burger in his hands.  As most men look like when holding a half or full pound burger in their hands, this is what Drake looked like holding the five pounder.  It was still a little too unwieldy even for him to hold, so he sat it down and cut it half, and then began to chomp down on it. 

 

Drake had never had a hamburger before, and the expression on his face, the way his eyes rolled back when the beef juices and seasonings hit his tongue, one would've thought he was having an orgasm!

 

"YEAH!" bellowed a pretty big man in the crowd, "THAT'S THE WAY A WEIGHT BULL REFUELS AFTER A WORKOUT AND ENJOYS HIS PROTEIN! YEEEEEAAAAH!"

 

The crowd again going ballistic, frenzied began to cheer and egg him on to eat.... Eat....EAT!  Drake didn't disappoint he ate his burger, as well as all the chips in between, and his large drink, or one should say, drinks.  He was powerfully thirsty as well, and after he finished the large drink that came with the meal during its being devoured, several customers kept buying him the largest glasses of ale and beer they could afford.  Naturally Drake finished the meal and actually did so inside of twenty minutes, a new record for the Pub.

 

The beer and the snacks kept flowing.  Drake's size and naivety about working out made him seem like a natural bodybuilding wonder who was exceptionally friendly and humble.  Pictures were taken of him standing next to the tallest and the biggest local guys and making them look like kids, people slipping various things like their shirt, shorts, bicycle inner tubes, string, wire, bungee cords over Drake's upper arm and having him flex and rip or snap out of it.  Guys tried to drape their arm over his shoulders as they handed him another beer and began singing songs and telling tales of weight lifting days gone by.  Devon and Drake helped close the place down.

 

As they were getting ready to leave, Nigel came over to shake hands and thank Devon.

 

"That man is destined for some great things in the world of sport.  Really kind soul too.  I remember you, Devon.  I remember you very well.  He's a keeper that one, if you know what I mean.  And I'd like to say thank you and offer a small apology.  When you first mentioned the special and he walked in I thought, 'Bloody hell, Nijuh.  You're out fourteen pounds if not more now.'  But he's caused so many of the old regulars and new customers to come in, I've taken more in the till this evening than damn near have in the last six months total!  He's like you, Devon, always welcome back, and as long as he can help draw folks in, he can always have a five pounder for free."

 

Nigel went away chuckling and several regulars traveled with Devon and Drake back to Devon's apartment so Devon could actually get home safely, without Drake stumbling and crushing him.  Well, with all the drinks that were being given to Drake, Drake was completely pissed, three-four-five sheets to the wind, utterly schnookered.... .... ... and it took around forty-five pints to do that.

 

In the morning Devon awoke in the living room to someone pounding at the door.  Approaching it and looking through the peep hole, he discovered it was Anton.  He opened the door and let him inside.

 

"Good morning.... or rather good God, man.  You look like you were attacked by a bear who drug you through the sewer!  Are you just getting up?  It's after noon!"

 

"Shhhhhh SHSHHHHH!  Ugh.....  I took my friend to a pub last night.  He made quite an impression and we closed the place down."

 

"You didn't try to drink him under the table did you?  I mean, if he's a large as you say, you should be well passed out four or five hours before he become punchy."

 

"No, I didn't try to pace my drinking with his, but as I know him and brought him in, everyone was buying me rounds as well, and....Let's just say we had a really great time last night."

 

"And paying for it this morning...or rather afternoon."

 

"So, why'd you stop over today for?  It's a Saturday."

 

"I wanted to try and see you and ....uhmm..."

 

"Drake."

 

"Drake... yes...in person.  If I can get his finger prints and such, there may be a way for me to get him into the system without too much fuss."

 

"Hmmmmm  I don't know if that'll happen now after last night.  We made quite an impression. ... ... ... But if you need to get things like his finger prints, blood sample, probably would be good to do that now.  He's still zonked out in my bedroom."

 

"In your bedroo....why is he in there? Are you two?...."

 

"We're just getting to know one another, Anton, and as far as him being in my bedroom think about it.  I have a one bedroom apartment which means I have a bed or a couch for him to sleep on.  Since the couch is narrow and only six feet long...."

 

"Drake at eight feet tall would be more comfortable on the bed."

 

"Yes...shall well."

 

And Devon showed Anton to his bedroom and went into to look at Drake.

 

"Good Lord, he's an absolute behemoth!"

 

"You didn't believe me did you?"

 

"Well, it's such a rarity for any man to reach these kind of heights and under normal growth conditions.  Has he been taken to the hospital and check out?"

 

"Can't do that until we have an identity for him and he's in the system."

 

"Right.  Well, he's still zonked out it seems, but I should be able to lift his finger prints off him quietly enough, and...bloody hell!  His vascularity!  No problem getting a sample of blood out of him.... if his arms and veins don't break the needle."

 

Nigel got the blood sample, finger prints, and wrote down some other stats in order to create a file for Drake.  He was just finishing writing down the last of his measurements when he began to notice the sheets moving.

 

"Devon...I say, Devon... do you have pet?"

 

"No... why?"

 

"Because something is rising up in the middle of the sheets, but both of his feet are stuck out there and aren't moving.  What does that mean?"

 

"It means we need to discuss this outside in the kitchen before you notice things about him you didn't want to know.  Fancy a cup of Earl Grey?"

 

And Devon ushered Anton out of his bedroom to let the sleeping giant lie.

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AMAZING! I love the chapters when the Giant uses his new size and strength. You created new ways of describing huge muscles that I simply adored. The toilet thing was hilarious and freaking hot! I am loving this story so much! Thanks for sharing it with us!

Cheers!

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Really good story, I really enjoy it!

 

Although, I have one minor complaint, blood sample after such a night doesn't seem like a good idea (but then again I don't know how quickly can a half-ton, 8 feet tall man digest 45 pints of beer).

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