The Magnate and the Monster

[Aletrius]

Brilliant so far, keep it coming!

[jrt5810]

Nine

Big, beefy Jay walked out of the locker room and onto the weight floor. The man carried himself with ultimate confidence in any setting, but here he was clearly at home. His impeccable, huge physique was highlighted by his attire – tight tank top making his broad shoulders look even bigger, thin workout shorts wrapping thick legs and a huge ass. And an air of dominance – barely shy of cockiness – rolled off of him in waves. He might as well have owned that gym.

I followed him like a puppy. I’d follow him anywhere.

The gym was impressively outfitted – huge by New York standards, particularly for a place I’d never heard of before – and felt exclusive. There were no slackers among the membership. Everyone on the floor was in excellent shape. Big, defined muscle guys, professional athletes with ripped torsos, and a sprinkling of the stunningly beautiful – presumably models. In New York, you get used to seeing perfect bodies on a daily basis, but an entire room of them was still something to behold.

Jay ambled over to the leg section and set his towel on a squat rack. “You’re training legs.” His softer, kinder demeanor had retreated. This was Coach Jay.

“Okay. Yeah. Okay, great!” I said, unsure of how to interact with him in this state.

“How much can you squat?”

I had suspected that question was coming, and was dreading it. Like a good little boy, I squatted every time I trained legs. And I pushed myself. But I was never good at squats. I had never mastered the movement and found my groove.

“275,” I muttered, ashamed.

“Good. Start loading,” Jay said without hesitation or judgement as he grabbed a plate and slipped it onto the bar.

“Jay…” I said as he added another 45 to his side. “275 is my max.”

“*Was* your max. We’re starting with that today,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Shouldn’t I warm up with someth…” I started to ask.

“Stop,” Jay said. He stood right in front of me, looking down at me. Somehow bigger and more intimidating than ever. “I’m training you. That means you do what I say. I don’t give a shit if it doesn’t make sense or doesn’t feel right. It is right. I am right.”

Between the pre-workout formula, the excitement of the workout, and my growing desire to please this dominant man, I was nearly shaking. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body, could smell him. I was terrified but swooning over him. Instead of being rock hard, my dick sat flaccid. The pre-workout, doing it’s job.

Jay wrapped an arm around me and pulled me up for a kiss. Passionate, yes. But rough. Aggressive. Were people watching? He clearly didn’t care. He let me back down.

“Now stop being a little bitch and lift the fucking weight, Meat.”

Lift the fucking weight, Meat. Lift the fucking weight, Meat. Jay’s gravely voice played over and over in my head. “Yeah,” I thought to myself. “Stop being a little bitch, Billy. You can do this.”

I ducked under the bar, found my grip and footing, and lifted it off the rests. I felt the weight push down through my spine and into my legs. This was my long-time max – last week I’d completed three sloppy reps with it – and it still felt heavy now. But somehow more manageable.

I descended for the first rep, dropping my thighs right below parallel, and pushed up. It felt easy. It felt like I could do far more than three.

“That was a pussy rep, Meat. Drop your ass down deeper,” Jay snarled from behind me as he watched me like a hawk.

I started my second rep, going deeper, more confident. The first rep had been so easy. Jay must have been right – I could do this. I struggled a bit as I thought through the rep and worried about my footing, but completed it all the same.

“Good. Don’t overthink it. Go.”

Third rep. Controlled, steady, deep. “Don’t think,” I thought. Ironic, maybe, but it worked.

“Don’t think,” I thought as I did a perfect fourth rep. A perfect fifth. Six reps. “Don’t think.” Seven. Eight reps. Solid, perfect, deep, strong. Nine. Ten.

“Stop,” he said, nudging me forward so the bar clanked against the rests.

“I did ten!” I nearly shouted. I’d been fighting to improve for years with little to show for it, and now this! Sweat was already starting to saturate my t-shirt.

“And you could have done more, if I hadn’t stopped you. Pull off the 25 and put on a plate,” he said as he slid the 25 off his side of the bar. He noticed my hesitation. “Don’t think. Do it.”

I’d never squatted 315. I hadn’t even attempted it. I settled myself under the bar and found my grip. Jay’s calloused hands grabbed mine and subtly adjusted their position.

“Ten reps,” he growled in my ear.

Don’t-think-don’t-think-don’t-think-don’t-think. I lifted the bar with a grunt and dropped down. I dropped my ass to the fucking ground. I powered up. I did it again, and again. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t doubting. I was simply executing Jay’s plan. I heard his voice behind me, low, masculine, animalistic. Counting out each rep. My eyes glassy, I saw visions of muscle – huge, overblown, ridiculously hypertrophied muscle. My reward for not thinking. For just doing.

“That’s ten, Meat,” Jay said, calling me back from my trance. I racked the weight and stared at my reflection in the mirror, transfixed.

“My legs…” I said, trailing off as I stared at my visibly thicker thighs. Veins had appeared at the bottom of my quads, which were swelling out above my kneecaps. I'd never felt so big, so powerful. What a fucking pump!

“I told you you’re going to grow. Stop doubting me,” Jay said. I noticed a hint of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He was enjoying this, too. He slapped on a 25 and broke into a bigger smile as I did the same without challenging him.

“Your daddy’s gonna spot you on this one. Let’s get you huge, Meat.”

Jay oriented himself behind me, placing his big arms at-the-ready around my torso, prepared to grab me and provide support if needed. “He’s already caught me twice,” I thought to myself as I remembered his quick reflexes. “He’s always going to be here to catch me. He’s *always* going to be here to catch me.”

I didn’t even question the weight. Didn’t acknowledge that this was 90 pounds more than I’d ever squatted before today. My muscle daddy believed I could lift it. And if he believed it, so did I.

I lifted off and started my first rep, hungry to move the weight. Pumped to work hard. The first rep was slow but smooth – I could feel the weight crushing into my shoulders, feel my body recalibrating its balance. All the way, Jay shadowed my movement, right there but not touching me. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

The second rep was a struggle. I got down low but it was a fight to push up. Still, Jay wasn’t intervening. His calmness gave me the confidence I needed to finish.

It wasn’t until the fifth rep that I started to fall apart. I was breathing heavy. Sweat was starting to pool at my feet. My legs were quivering. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. At the bottom of the rep, I instinctively knew it wasn’t in me. I didn’t have the strength to push up. Jay read my mind, read my body language perfectly, and latched on to me. All of the sudden, his thick torso, his huge pecs were pressed against me. His bulging biceps tensed against my lats. His crotch rested against my ass. He wasn’t soft.

It was the gentlest upward lift. He knew exactly how much force to apply to get the weight in motion. And I was headed up, finishing the rep. He’d spotted me, assisted me, but let me do almost all of the work.

Another rep, with Jay aiding at the bottom, holding me tight, pushing his thickening dick against my ass.

Another.

The bottom of the eighth rep was hell. I was in pain. My legs weren’t cooperating.

Jay’s deep voice whispered in my ear, “Grow for your daddy.”

I pushed as he assisted.

“Do it. Get huge for me.”

I pushed, somehow digging deeper to find the strength.

“Fuck yeah,” he growled as I racked the bar. He spun me around and looked me in the eyes. “That was beautiful, Meat. Now drink some water.”

He let me recover a bit, and then we started in again. Another set at 365, knocking out eight reps again. Then another set, seven reps. A final set, five hard-fought reps, with big Jay growling encouragement every inch of the way.

I felt like a god. I was in pain, I was wiped out. But somehow ready for more. My legs looked huge. My whole body looked huge. The exhaustion in my muscle tissue tingled in a way it never had before. It was intoxicating. Almost erotic. I needed more of it. I needed to grow.

Of course, looking at Jay’s reflection as he stood beside me was a quick reminder of how much growing I had to do. I continued to be in awe of his perfect body, his confidence, his belief in me. I felt like an addict, craving another fix of him, another deep fucking from his big cock. I imagined him pushing up against my sore glutes, celebrating my growth, showing his appreciation for my hard work. The thought had my balls tingling but, as he’d promised, my cock remained numb.

“Presses,” he said as soon as I’d caught my breath, leading me over to the leg press machine. As we started loading weight on the sled, I finally took note of some of the other guys training around us. Over at the dumbbell rack, knocking out hammer curls with a stupid amount of weight, stood the most muscular man I’d ever seen. I followed professional bodybuilding closely, and this guy looked bigger than any pro I knew about. A total roid head – enormous, defined, and scary as hell. His shoulders must have been three feet wide, dropping down to a narrow waist and flaring out again for his legs. Massive, pumped biceps. Huge pecs with nipples standing at attention, left uncovered by his bright yellow string tank top. A high-and-tight, sleeve tattoos, and the facial expression of a dude who was ready to kick. your. ass.

Jay saw that I’d clocked the big guy. “You’ll be bigger.”

“Oh man…” I replied. I couldn’t imagine being that big. The guy had to weigh nearly 350 and was only a few inches taller than me.

“I guarantee it. Time to start, Meat,” Jay said. He was always pushing me forward.

I started my set and, out of the corner of my eye, saw Jay walk over to the dumbbells. Press. Jay said hi to the huge guy. Press. Huge guy and Jay talk a bit. Press. Jay puts his hand on huge guy’s huge shoulder. Press. Huge guy leans in and kisses Jay on the cheek. Press. Blink. Breathe.

That’s Mark. That’s who Samantha was talking about. It’s gotta be.

“Good. Looks like that weight was light for you. Let’s add a pair of 45s,” Jay said as he returned. He slid on a plate and waited as I did the same. “Go. You don’t need to rest much.”

I sat down in the press and started my reps. I was not a jealous guy. I’m not jealous. I hardly even know this Jay guy. Who knows what’s going on in his life. Who knows who this Mark guy is. Who cares. I’m not jealous. Really.

Really.

We moved efficiently through the rest of the workout. Brutal, endless sets of heavy leg presses, lunges, sissy squats, machine extensions, lying curls, calf raises, standing curls, adductors, abductors – continued with Jay’s guidance. As much rest as I needed and no more. As much weight as I could lift and no less. As many reps as I could complete and no fewer.

I left my sweat everywhere. “Don’t worry about it,” Jay would say. We left weights sitting on bars. “Don’t worry about it,” Jay would say. I spilled my water bottle. “Don’t worry about it. Just lift.”

And behind us, after we’d moved on to the next piece of equipment, an employee would clean up my sweat, re-rack the weights, and mop up the water.

“They really take care of this place. I’m surprised they put up the weights and stuff,” I mentioned.

“Well, it’s my gym. They take care of me here,” Jay replied.

“Yeah but still, wouldn’t they want their members to…”

Jay laughed. “Meat, maybe I wasn’t clear. When I told you this morning that my gym was right around the corner, I truly meant that *my* gym was right around the corner.”

I looked around the place, finally observing that the gym’s logo was a simple monogram – J.E.C. The man’s personal gym was one of the best in Manhattan.

He smiled and mussed with my hair playfully. “For such a bright guy, you sure have your dense moments.”

“…Hey!” I shouted at him as he walked towards the locker room.

[Aletrius]

Masterful! Already looking forward to more - want to see Billy balloon

[perados]

Since this story is out, the first thing I do when I wake up is to check the forum if there is a new chapter and the last thing I do at night is to ckeck again.

 

I only can repeat myself: This is unbelievable hot!

As soon as I see there is a new part, I get a boner and not long after start reading precum is leaking. 

 

Thank you so much, please promise you will finish this story OR you will never stop writing

[lsosuke]

*¬* more

[xboy]

good one!

[perados]

More than 24 hours without a new chapter...

You spoiled me by your fast posting.

 

I need my drug

[jrt5810]

Ten

“Sit tight for a second.” Jay motioned to a bench where I could rest while he retrieved his bag from the locker room.

I dropped down and instantly was slammed with fatigue. The full impact of the workout hit me as whatever was left of the pre-workout and adrenaline rush dissipated. I looked down at my legs – still not “big” but looking so much thicker than just a few hours before. Was this simply a great pump or would this size last? Did I have what it took to survive these workouts and get truly huge for Jay?

I could sense that beast Mark eyeing me from across the gym. Jay was still in the locker room. I didn’t look over at Mark. I looked anywhere and everywhere else. “Do not make eye contact with the huge roid head,” I told myself. I had nowhere to direct my attention – even my cellphone was back at Jay’s place.

I knew he was walking over. I could feel it, the way scientists can detect the pull of a passing celestial body. He was big enough to generate his own gravity. A large shadow seemed to fall over me as I sat on the bench, still dripping sweat onto the floor. I looked up.

Holy shit. He was even more massive up close, particularly as he loomed over me. His ornately tattooed arms were pumped and glistening, blown up disproportionately from his intense workout. His tank top was pulled taut around an enormous chest. Cut off sweatpants revealed tree trunk legs. Big traps and a thick neck framed a face that looked like it had started at “handsome” and ended up at “brutally masculine” after years of loading up on testosterone. But he could, right this moment, step onto any stage and leave with a trophy.

“Hey, man,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Mark.”

I started to stand up to shake his hand. My legs were slow to respond.

Mark shook his head. “Nah, nah, don’t get up. I watched your workout. You did good but I bet you’re toasted.”

I settled back on the bench. “Thanks. Yeah, it was intense.”

“Well, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon. Jay’s really pumped to be training you.”

“I’m lucky to have him training me. I hope I don’t disappoint him,” I said.

“Yeah,” the big man said gruffly. “Yeah, I hope you don’t disappoint him either.”

It sounded vaguely like a threat, but Mark looked as if he wanted to say more. He was holding back. For some reason, the intimidation I had been feeling towards the man dissolved. Rather than being a little bit frightened, I was curious.

“What? What is it?” I asked.

Mark looked back to towards the locker room, checking ensure Jay was still out of earshot.

“That guy.” He pointed a thick finger towards the locker room door for emphasis. “That is one of the kindest and most giving humans I’ve met. You treat him good, got it?”

“Yeah,” I said, stunned. “I will. You have my word, Mark.”

He smiled and nodded, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. “See you around, man.”

And with that, he waddled out of the gym.

[jimwpb]

Aawww

lovin this story

[Aletrius]

Don't stop now!