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The Edge - Part 6 - A Swoldier's Call


Swoldier

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The Edge - Part 6 - A Swoldier's Call

 

“To feel strong, to walk amongst humans with a tremendous feeling of confidence and superiority is not at all wrong. The sense of superiority in bodily strength is borne out by the long history of mankind paying homage in folklore, song and poetry to strong men.”

– Fred Hatfield

 

 

I guess having someone else going through the same thing as me made it a bit easier to deal with.  Even though when Eddie and I were "Eric" and "Colin", we just competed against each other, driving the other one to get even bigger. I'm still not sure if that made the situation better or worse.

 

 

 

Except for the gym, where no one had known us before we turned into hulking behemoths, we'd kept a really low profile.  Somehow we just couldn't get a cover story for how we'd managed to put on 130 lbs of muscle, each, overnight.

 

As for the actual transformation, we'd come to the conclusion that it must have had something to do with Eddie's cold.  Not that it made any logical sense, but a bodybuilder sneezed on him, he got a cold and changed into a bodybuilder, then gave me the cold and I'd changed.  To be honest, we were kind of scared to go out and potentially spread the "disease".

 

Colin and Eric didn’t care, though.  I don’t think they really thought about what would happen if it spread. Colin really didn’t think period from what I could tell. It’s odd losing control of yourself like that. It’s not really that I’m not me anymore, but it’s just that all of my priorities shift around. Gym and my body come first. Second and third, really, too. It’s an urge, one I can’t ignore, that shuts out all the academic stuff that makes me, “me”.  

 

It’s not that Colin doesn’t want to think about those things, he literally can’t.  The instinct for bodybuilding is way to strong, it just shuts out literally everything else.  Then there’s all the knowledge that comes with building and having a professional bodybuilder’s body, I’m still not sure what all that came from, but when I am bodybuilding, it feels like that most natural thing I’ve ever experienced.  My body, cumbersome, motion restricted, bulging in odd places, balanced weirdly, something I can’t control well, becomes natural to me.  The muscles, the weight of them on me feels ‘right’, like I’m supposed to be like that. I am the ultimate male, and I must be like that.  Once the urge has me, I can’t even conceive of being trapped in a small body like I used to be, big is the only way to go. 

 

The transformation into Colin really is like having the most passionate, wild sex you’ve ever had in your life. There’s nothing else, just the task at hand, and you’re driven with an intensity you can’t build from “normal, everyday, life”.  I mean, in bed you’re still you, but you’ll do things during really really hot sex that you probably wouldn’t do out in public.  I’d never go into a gym normally, but when the call hits, I don’t have a choice. It’s all I can think of, all my purpose is, all my body is built for, and I have to answer, Colin arrives, and I have to go.  I guess it makes sense, though.  Regardless off the differences between me and Colin, since the change, my brain has been somehow hardwired to equate sex with bodybuilding.  It’s the one thing that unites us.  I enjoy the workout more than the best lay I’ve ever had in my life. For a brief second, while the workout is at its most intense, I can take the enjoyment too.  Then all too soon, the set’s over, and either I’m driven uncontrollably to the next set, or I regain my senses as the primal drive and Colin recedes until they need to come back out. This is my life now, I guess.

 

It had been a couple of days since my transformation into the hulk, sans green coloring. Eddie and I were hurrying out of the gym in our usual demeanor after we “came to our senses” finishing the workout: eyes down, trying not to engage anyone, shuffling over our own quads. We still couldn't get the gait right, too much muscle on the legs to walk right. 

 

“Hold up a sec, guys!”

 

Shit, someone had seen us. I turned around looking for the source of the voice as a gangly teen rushed up to us. He was dressed in an ill fitting oversized tank top that hung off him like a weird loose skin, a pair of what I thought were basketball shorts and I couldn't believe it: a neon green and black headband. 

 

"We're kinda in a hurry," I forced a smile to the kid as I tripped up over my quads and steadied myself. 

 

I - well Colin - had seen the kid just about every time we'd been in the gym. He was always lifting, a bit wrong on form for Colin's liking (how can you tell?), and actually looked to be getting scrawnier the more he worked out. 

 

"I was just wondering if you guys were competitors." He looked excited, a bit nervous maybe, to be talking to the huge imposing figures that my roommate and I had become. 

 

"Um.." Eddie and I exchanged a quick glance at each other under our simian brows. The transformation had left us looking more like hulked out cavemen in my estimation rather than competitors. "No, we just lift for um... Fun." The word kind of stuck in my throat. My still rather new deep bass voice not sounding quite right, rumbling the wrong way somewhere deep beneath my oversized pecs.

 

"Oh wow! Really? I thought for sure you guys were competitors. Sorry, name's Jason. I'm trying to get big like you guys! It's a dream of mine, competition, you know, like that show coming up," he pointed over to a poster on the wall.  

 

The poster was for an upcoming local bodybuilding show.  “National Qualifier” was plastered all over it, whatever that meant.  I looked at the picture in the center with a huge bodybuilder in his suit on the stage doing a front lat spread (how did I know what that was?).  I was bigger than him…now.  For a second I wondered what it would be like to be up on that stage, flexing in front of all those people.  It kind of repulsed me... at first.

 

Eddie had lumbered over to where I was standing, transfixed at the poster. I couldn't help it. The idea really didn't appeal to me, but I couldn't shake it. I kept imagining myself being the one in the posers on the stage.  I tried to clear my head, but the images kept coming back, stronger. 

 

"You guys gotta tell me your secret! How'd you get so big?" Jason was on edge, hanging on an answer that might unlock his desires for size. 

 

Trying to break the spell of the compulsion to compete that was building in me, I managed an answer, "We kinda just caught the iron bug, ya know. Kept with it and one day just looked like this." My eyes never left the poster, images of me, flexing, flashing through my mind. My voice was hollow, like there wasn't too much intellect flowing out of me. A few muscles involuntarily flexed along with the routine spinning through my head. 

 

It was weird, I couldn’t help myself. The more I saw what passed for the “example” of what should be in that show, the more I wanted to get up there and show them what a real man was like.  I looked at the guy’s arms. Then I looked down at mine, the veins snaking their way across the biceps, the pump still fresh from the workout we’d just suffered through. I flexed it tentatively, watching the muscle jump up into a hard ball.  Fuck, I was bigger than him, harder too.  And he couldn't even fill out the posers properly! Ha! They'd have trouble finding a pouch large enough to contain me!  I saw the crowd in front of me, cheering my alpha body, worshiping the perfection of male development.  A burning started inside of me - I absolutely had to be on that stage.  It was like I could feel the lights on me, my posers filled to the maximum, music pounding in my head, lost in a routine designed to show off every fuckin muscle and striation I had.  I mean, why the fuck were Eric and I doin’ this if we weren’t gonna show off for the whole fuckin world to see.  I looked down, bunched my chest and saw my pecs fighting for space on my torso, with nowhere to go they just pushed out, straining my tank top.  A thread through the seem on my huge traps popped.  I let out a deep guttural chuckle.  Fuck yah, no one else had thickness like that.

 

“Fuck, bro, we’re doin that fuckin show!” I looked over at Eddie with a dopey smile, holding my pose.

 

“What?! You’re out of your mind.  Why in the blue hell would I want to get up in front of all those people looking like…well, like this?” he gestured down to his vein covered, immensely bulging, chiseled bulk.

 

“Bro, why the fuck wouldn’t you? Fuck, just think of it, showin all this shit off,” I flexed a double bi, the seams of my tank, this time down the sides, groaned with the flaring of my lats. I heard an audible gasp from Jason, that just edged me on, fuck yeah little guy, this is a real man. “Think of it, showin all those pussies that think they’re real men what a real fuckin alpha male looks like! I know you want to show off that fuckin chest, those arms, and fuck man, your quads don’t even fit in pants anymore.” I half-punched Eddie in his delt, he flexed it involuntarily.

 

“Heh, it might be fun.” he looked down at his quads, and flexed them, testing them.  “Gonna have to do more squats though,” he pulled up his workout shorts almost to his hip to show the whole leg, veins popping at every angle on the hard muscle.  “Whatcha think bro?” he turned to me, quad flexed, hit a most muscular, sending his delts and traps into a deep relief. To finish it he stuck out his tongue, through a cocky big smile. He brought a meaty arm down and pulled up the bottom of his tank, exposing deep cut abs and obliques.  I swear you could grate cheese on the guy. “Fuck yah! Sign me the fuck up!”

 

Jason looked like he could probably cream his basketball shorts with the display Eric and I just gave him. Why not push him till he does.

 

“Fuck yah!” I hit a most muscular back at Eric. We laughed a deep dopey laugh and strutted over to the counter, Jason, looking slightly red faced, hanging behind in tow.  The little guy sitting at the desk looked scared. Fuck, I would be too if two gods like us walked up.  I slammed a hand down on the counter, “We’re here to fuckin sign up for that!” I pointed over to the poster, “you’re fuckin lookin at the winners, little man!” Eric and I laughed and high fived.

 

“Alphaaa!” our impossibly deep voices carried over the entire gym as we both yelled at each other, smiled and hit a crab pose, letting every vein on our chest and arms pop out. Most of the guys working out stopped to see what the loud noise was, turning our direction.  Fuck yeah! Let em' look, I love showing off this alpha body.

 

The little guy behind the counter just sort of looked at us, and put two forms in front of us.  “Just fill that out and I’ll take your entry fee.”

 

“I’m so going to that show,” I heard Jason say to himself as he walked carefully back to the locker room to clean up.  Heh, this’ll be fun.

 

We walked into the apartment.  Somewhere on the drive home we’d come back to our senses.

 

“What did we do again?” Eddie was still in shock.

 

“I think we signed up for one of those bodybuilding shows,” I was still trying to process what happened after I saw the poster.

 

“Um. Dude, we know less than nothing about those.  What’re we supposed to do?”

 

“_We_ don’t do anything.  I think this is something Eric and Colin have down. I’m afraid we just may be along for the ride.” the panic started setting in to me.

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  • 1 month later...

It's coming, promise. The whole story is sketched out, just have to find time to actually write it. (There actually is a "grand plan" of sorts. Just have a lot going on right now.) Thanks for the feedback!! Much appreciated!

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Crazy story! I like the chage of the character to normal into muscleheads...it's look like reality...when you begin to use roids and train like a beast....you change! great work! i hope you realease soon the new chap!

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  • 2 months later...

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