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The Edge - Part 7 - Super Swoldier

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The Edge - Part 7 - Super Swoldier


“It wasn't till i was about 9 when I saw my first muscle magazine - at that moment I was blown away at the muscle I saw on these people. I wondered to myself, "I wanna look like that someday" so not soon after I read my first magazine I started to lift weights.”

– Jeff Long




It was six weeks before the show. I’m not quite sure what Colin was doing, the bodybuilding stuff still didn’t make sense to me.  I still wasn’t used to Colin’s “intrusions” into my life - it was to the point now that passing by a mirror and flexing was enough for him to surface. He of course showed up at meal times, gym times, and various other times that I’m assuming  had to do with contest prep, usually accompanied by Eric.

“I don’t want to do this,” Eddie and I were sharing a rare moment when we both were “us” for the moment.  We were huge now, and really vascular thanks to the show prep.  We’d given up on shirts, they just wouldn’t fit right. Either they fit the shoulder/chest area and looked like a tent on our tiny waists, or they fit the waist, and our shoulder and arms would burst the seams.  When we went out, it was pretty much tank tops as a rule.

“Neither do I,” we both agreed wholly on that point, “but I don’t think ‘we’ have much choice. It’s not like we’ll be up there anyway.  Eric and Colin will be up there. Probably enjoying themselves."

“So what happens if we win?”

“You mean ‘when’ we win, right? I mean look at us, there’s not many guys out there that look like us.”

“I’m serious, dude.  I mean if we win and get sponsorships, do Eric and Colin come out to play permanently? It’s not like you or I know how to pose or pull off the bodybuilding thing.”

I looked down at my enormous arm, the large veins snaking their way across the engorged muscle.  I had to admit, the prospect of being permanently turned into a mindless bulging sex-crazed bodybuilder didn’t really appeal to me. “I don’t know. I mean there’s worse things than having a body like this,” I gestured down to the enormous tank I’d become.

We’d figured out that somehow sex was part of what made us “dumb bodybuilders”. Every time either of us looked at porn or got aroused at all, Eric and Colin would start coming out. Eventually, the normal sex stuff just morphed into bodybuilding.  For some reason the two were linked for them.  The real problem was that the road was becoming a two-way one.  Anything, and I mean anything to do with any aspect of bodybuilding would turn into some sort of male dominance thing which would somehow end up in our cocks when “they” came out.  We couldn’t quite tell which caused what.  The lines were blurring, and “we” were getting lost in the shuffle.

I traced the vein down my 24 inch left bicep with my right index finger, bouncing the muscle as I went.  My cock stirred a little.  Fuckin’ 24! I’d made it, and it’s gonna look so good for the show - oh no. It was too late.  I could feel the change. As the threshold was crossed, my mind slowed down, changing gears.  “You gotta problem with bodybuilders?” I heard the tone of my voice changing.  The emptiness was sliding through my mind. The next six weeks, I was gonna fuckin’ attack the weights, and then dominate every pussy boy on that fuckin’ stage! “You know what this feels like, we’re basically fuckin’ gods bro.”

“No, no, no, no!!” Eddie was doing his best to resist. But the bulge in his shorts was telling a different story.  “I refuse to turn into that mindless freak!”

I flexed a bi in his face.  “C’mon bro! Let’s see yours, unless ya know I gotcha beat!" I felt a sneer as my lips curled up into a mocking smile.  I tried to think of any science fact I could. It was a losing battle, nutrition information was coming up, “I’m fucking winning that show, bitch!”

I saw my bicep flexed. The hanging tri. I needed to bring that up a bit before the show, he might get a few points on me there. I felt my pecs hanging on my chest. Fuck I loved that feeling. Just moving my arms a little made them jump as my bi’s brushed against my lats. Fuck! I love bodybuilding! This was a good size for the show, but I knew I had to get bigger for a national stage. Eric and I could fuckin' do it though. 

“No, I’m Eddie. I’m an engineering student,” his enormous hands went up to cover his face, biceps bunching and bulging as they went. He actually might be bigger than me, that fucker.  “I’m an honor roll student,” his voice started changing tones. “I’m on the Dean’s List, I’ve won multiple scholast- scholar- school awards, I’m an In-gen-eer. I’m a student of...”, he trailed off, the jaw went slack.  Over his hands, his brow scrunched up like he was trying to remember something, “I’m a student of the fuckin’ iron! I’m a muscle GOD!” He roared as Eric’s hands dropped from his face.

I looked around, trying to remember what the fuck I had just been doin’. Fuck I hate it when I lose my liftin' skills.  It's like I don't know nothin’ about liftin’ or anything important like that.  It's like I completely blackout to bodybuilding. I become a real dumbass. “Fuck, bro, what were we talkin’ about?”

Eric looked like he’d just woken up from a deep sleep.  “Fuck if I know, bro? If it wasn’t about growin’ liftin’ or fuckin’ it wasn’t important.” He stretched himself out to his full height. He looked over his pecs down to his shorts, “Must’ve been bitchin', though, I’m boned to hell. Let’s go Lift!”


It was weird.  I mean, it wasn’t like I wasn’t still me, even when I was Colin.  I just was a lot dumber and fixated on being a bodybuilder and all things muscle.  The problem was controlling it.  The closer the show got, the more Eddie and I were Eric and Colin.  Eric an Colin knew these bodies, Eddie and I didn’t.  We still didn’t move quite right in them.

It’s not hard to imagine, going from chicken legs to having to waddle to get your legs to move around each other so you could actually take more than a baby step.  We looked weird and were really self-conscious unless Eric and Colin were around.

After Eric and Colin had finished doing...whatever it was they do, and we were back to “us”, Eddie and I decided to go to the mall to try to find some new clothes more our style, less….showy than Eric and Colin liked. Something we could wear.  We figured it would be best to try to preserve “us” for as long as we could.  The changes were increasing.  Literally, anytime either of us would think of muscle, bodybuilding, or anything remotely to do with flexing or something like that, we’d change.  With both of us only wearing spandex (it’s the only thing that wouldn’t chafe) and tank tops, not thinking of muscle was becoming increasingly hard.

We were at the food court after picking up some shirts and pants that would have to be altered to get over our hulking frame.  Eddie had gone to the bathroom before we left, and I was sitting in my tank top at one of the tables trying desperately not to think of how strange this huge hulking body looked hunched over an invisible plate trying to not be noticed.

A kid of about 10 passed by and you could tell by the look on his face, he’d never seen someone my size before.  I still couldn't get used to the stares. I didn’t like them, but as Colin, I learned that I - he, loved the attention.

The kid kept staring. I was really hoping he’d move on, but I could feel a hole being bored in my massive arm from his stare.  I looked up and managed a friendly smile at the kid and went on about my inner sulking.  The kid came over to me with his mouth agape.  He looked up at me, and down into a figurine he had in his hand.  I recognized it as one of the new super heroes that companies were always dreaming up to entice the next generation of kids to spend their parent’s money.  I had to admit, though, the character was totally jacked.  I giggled a dumb chuckle to myself - I was bigger though.  I involuntarily flexed a bi and made the huge vein running across it jump.

“Whoa!” the kid was taken aback, “you’re even bigger than Captain Ultra!”

No, I can’t engage this kid.  Don’t think about your pecs - heh, bigger than the Cap’s there.  Don’t think about the quads on the toy - mine are so much bigger than that, it’ll look bitchin’ on stage. That figure isn’t even vascular.  Fuck, if I wore something skin tight you’d see every vein in my shoulders arms and legs standing out. Don’t think about muscle. Don’t. Think about muscle. “You know it little bro!” I heard myself say and flexed my arm for the kid to see.  

“Cool!” a smile ran across his face, his eyes were as wide as dinner plates.  I always love kids reactions to the muscle.  They’re never quite sure how to act.   

“This took a lot of time to build up.”, I gave him a crab shot - my favorite pose -  “You know when you’re older, you can start lifting weights too.  If you do it long enough, I bet you could be even bigger than me!”

A man had walked over by this time.  An average guy, obviously didn't lift. Judging by the blond hair and green eyes, which looked just like the kid's, I guessed it was his dad.  “C’mon Caleb, leave the man alone,” he grabbed his son by the hand and started walking away.  I heard him mutter under his breath “I don’t know why anyone would want to do something that gross to themselves.”

Huh? Gross? Fuck that, this isn’t gross, it’s manly you little bitch.  I looked down and flexed my pecs.  They were literally hanging out of the sides of my tank.  A cocky smile went over my face.  He just didn’t know what “this” felt like.  I bet if he did, he’d have a different view.  I sneezed.  And I realized something...

“You know, bro,” I called after him, “it’s a lotta work to look like this.  It’s an art form - you should appreciate it.  Your kid does.”

He looked back 

I sneezed, covering my mouth with my right hand.

I stood up. “I’m Colin. Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a handshake to the guy.


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