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  1. Here is a new story from a friend featuring one of my favorite subjects. Big muscle daddies . I'd been talking about a story like this with my friend and they decided to write a story on it. Just to be clear, this is not an incest story. And it follows in a similar genre as my Elongro and Performance Incentive stories. So there may be elements of domination, humiliation, cucking, etc. Again, just to be clear, I did not write this, but was given permission by the author to share it here. Enjoy! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Chapter 1 - Dr. Tait Holden, MD, Ph.D. sat in his office at 345 Park Avenue Manhattan dictating another report. It had been an exhausting few months. Since he attended the college football championship game in January there had only been a few days that he had been home. Travel all over the nation, living in hotel after hotel after hotel. Dozens upon dozens of days long interviews with clients. Just as many or more consultant meetings and video conferences each week. Having to attend gladhand receptions and dinners with the more hands-on owners when he would much rather have been home. But the end of the yearly ritual was within sight. It was now early May. He was back in his Manhattan loft full time, and, at last, the busiest part of his work year was almost over. That was not to say Tait actually liked New York City. It was just a necessary evil. At least the Spring weather was nice here. He just had too much Nebraska in him to ever feel comfortable in a two bedroom - two bath top floor loft in Chelsea that he bought strictly for its vaulted ceilings or in a suit in the corporate offices. In fact, he often mused about the size of the mansion he could have bought back in Omaha for what he spent on 1200 square feet here. But, as much as he did not like Manhattan, at least he wasn’t always on an airplane living out of a suitcase. He could get some fresh air on the roof of his building after his morning run with a cup of coffee and a quick hot tub boil to relax his quads and calves before work. Cramped, crowded subway commutes were never fun for him, but having his own kitchen each night made sticking to his new workout and gym goals much easier. Those had been KILLER to maintain on the road to be sure. But, he never turned down a challenge. Besides, he thought he had progressed quite nicely on those goals over travel season, all things considered. Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of reports and these meetings and he would finally be able to close the Chelsea loft for the summer and take some vacation time at his Montana cabin. In the remote wilderness with just himself, the animals, and his private gym, he could really focus on his training undisturbed until fall. Sure there would be some work between the first day of training camp and week one, but that would be the exception, not the rule. Tait was reciting long lines of dry medical jargon into his headset, when an unexpected buzz brought him out of his notes. He pressed pause on the mic control, and the main switchboard operator’s voice sounded. “Doctor Holden. Sean Foley from the PGA is on 7-2788 for you.” Tait smiled to himself as he told the operator to transfer the call to him. Sean was one of the best professional golf coaches on the planet, counting players the likes of Tiger Woods and Justin Rose among his clients. Getting this type of call would be unheard of for most doctors, but for Tait, it was run of the mill. He was, after all, one of the preeminent sports psychiatrists/psychologists in the United States. Tait flipped another switch on his mic to change from the computer dictation program to the phone lines, and a button on his desk phone connected the call. “Sean. It’s been quite a while. How are you man?” “I’m good, Tait. Covid took a toll on business, but what didn’t it take a toll on. How are you?” the man replied. “Trust me, I understand that. As for me - rough part of my season winding down and craving a vacation,” Tait said. “So, what can I do for you? You finally want to cash in that favor I owe you? If so, I know this perfect spot just off the coast of Miami. Private island, warm–” The voice on the phone quipped. “No way. Having you on the hook for a favor is too valuable to give up on just anything.” Then the voice became earnest. “Listen, Tait, this is - rather personal. Well, more personal for you I dare say. I don’t know if it is my business to tell you or if you already know. But you're a friend, and I have to say something. “Something is very wrong, Tait. Have you talked to Kane lately?” Tait’s jovial mood changed instantly. “Not for months, Sean. Between the rush for the draft and - well - you know - Kane being Kane. Thought it best to give him some space and let him call me. What's –” The voice interrupted. “That fits, Tait. But this is different. Fuck, Tait. I'm worried. Let me explain.” *** In Mountain View, California, a twenty-five year old man sat watching the sun rise in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood in which anyone could be happy. Except that the young man wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy for months. Not since that day at the gym. Since then, even his fiancé, who at one time made him unconsciously smile just being in her presence, couldn't rouse him from his preoccupied doldrums. It all started after that guy – no, he couldn't face it. It was too – Suddenly, his cellphone rang. The iPhone played a ringtone he had not heard in ages - Ozzy Osborne's “Patient Number 9.” The young man literally groaned as he picked up the phone to see *RESTRICTED NUMBER* as the caller. That ringtone was no accident then… Why now? He thought. Why now? Of all people on earth. With what happened, why him? The universe must hate me…. But the young man knew there was no way to ignore the call or the caller. No way to resist the inevitable. No one ever resisted this caller. Not in all the years he had known him. It was like trying to resist the gravity of a black hole. The only way to avoid it was to go around it and never interact with it. But now, he had to. The young man took a long breath and blew it out. Time to face reality. He clicked on the answer icon. “Hi Dad.” “Hi, Son. How are you?” a deep voice replied from the box. “OK. Just the usual,” the young man lied. “What’s up?” “I'm going to be flying into San Francisco tomorrow night and staying all next week. I would like to speak with you and meet Lacey while I am there. I know it is kind of hard for you to bring the girl home to “meet the parents” so to speak. But while I’m there, I thought it might be a good time. It is way past time I met my future daughter-in-law. “Are you both available for lunch Thursday? Say Hog Island Oyster Company at 12:30? It's a bit of overkill I know, but I want to make a good first impression on my new family. And I really want to see how you are. My treat, of course.” Oh fuck, the young man thought. Not just interacting but flying straight into orbit of the black hole. Then, he calmed a bit. Dad has to meet Lacey sometime though. Maybe it can just be lunch if he is working. I hope so. I can't be exposed to hi- The young man banished the thought he was about to have before he fully had it. It was too creepy to ever contemplate. It was wrong too. But it came again. And again. And again… The young man tried to clear his head. He yelled out so that it could be heard by the deep voiced man. “Lacey, do you have time Thursday afternoon for lunch? Dad is on the phone.” In response, a beautiful young woman came around the hallway from the bedroom into the living room. Her face was beaming at the prospect. Their marriage will become much more real after finally meeting her future father-in-law in person. She immediately agreed. “Lacey said it’s fine Dad, so I guess so.” “Great. I am staying at the Four Seasons for work. So, I will meet you both at the restaurant. Just ask for my reservation. I am really looking forward to it, Son. It has been far too long.” As the phone disconnected, the two men on opposite ends of the country - and from the same but opposite worlds - each breathed a sigh. In New York, Tait hated lying to his son. He could count on one hand how many times he had, and some of those had been misdirections about Christmas presents. He had finished in California weeks ago. But something was wrong, and his son needed him. In California, Kane Holden's stomach tied into a knot. He loved his dad, but his father was more of a force of nature than a man. Tait Holden was… His god of a father was coming. And after the dude at the gym, the universe really did hate him. *** When Kyle and Barbara Holden welcomed their fifth child and last child - their first son after four daughters - into the world in 1978 it was a dream come true. Every man dreams of having a son, and that was especially true of the Nebraska cattle rancher. He was not only from a long line of cattlemen, but also a long line of athletes. He himself had been a full scholarship O-line player at the University of Nebraska. His brother had been on the 1968 Olympic wrestling team. And before he settled onto his own ranch, his father had played for twelve seasons with the Phillies and the Dodgers through the 1950’s. His father’s two World Series rings sat proudly in the office at his ranch to that very day. But, at that moment in Creighton Memorial St. Joseph’s Hospital, no one grasped that the infant they named after his two grandpa’s, Tait Michael Holden, would tower over every accomplishment anyone in their families ever had. From the start, it was obvious that Tait was a special baby. First sign was that he was big for a newborn, being 8 pounds 12 ounces. But that big baby would only become BIGGER. Beyond that, Tait was speaking basic sentences at a year old. Reading basic stories at 3. When most little guys were only interested in Sesame Street or GI Joe cartoons, Tait was voraciously learning anything, showing a curiosity in everything from the classroom to snakes and prairie dogs on the ranch to how the cattle were managed for market. By the age of 12, Tait had raised and sold his first steer after winning first place with him at the State Fair. And then another, and then two, and then four. By the time he had graduated high school, Tait had well over eighty thousand dollars in savings from selling his Fair animals and prize money. Tait would have been an incredible rancher if that had been his destiny - but his academic and farm accomplishments were mirrored by his physicality and sports performance. Like all the Holden men, Tait inherited tremendous physical and athletic potential, and in Nebraska countryside tradition, Kyle started his son playing flag football as soon as he was of age. Tait took to the sport like a duck to water. By the time he was a high school freshman, Tait was already playing varsity as a hulking 6’4” terror of a tight end. At high school graduation, he had won every football award possible for high schoolers in the state of Nebraska and more individual player awards than any athlete in Nebraska state history to that point. Of course, Tait was recruited by practically every single division one athletic program that had even the smallest hope of landing him. The only thing that disappointed Kyle at the end was his son’s final decision of where to commit. Instead of one of the highly visible national programs, Tait chose Stanford. He explained that he wanted to develop his mind as well as his football skills, just in case he were injured and couldn’t play and Stanford could certainly do that. Besides, he reasoned, no matter the team’s record, as long as he played his very best game and learned under legendary Stanford head coach Bill Walsh - the NFL scouts would come to him. And come they did as Tait became a once in a generation position player. When Tait’s body finally stopped growing, he was just a fraction under 6’9” tall, and the strength coaching and nutrition staff transformed him into a 315 pound gridiron titan. And it was by no means a flabby 300 pounds. Tait was obsessive in the gym and with diet, so much so that the layer of fat so many tall footballers had simply wasn't there. Tait’s genetics would have allowed him to become a pro bodybuilder if he was not a football player. His body and strikingly good looks made him into what would one day be called the poster child of “aesthetics.” Tait had a 61 inch chest, 22 inch biceps, with a wasp waist of 32 inches that was the same size as each quad. He looked to literally be carved from rock, more like a giant Frank Zane on the field than a Junior Seau. Of course, any college footballer who was 6’9” and more than 300 pounds was tried out on the line and Tait played magnificently there. But, his true skills were at tight end. His gigantic hands made it next to impossible for a quarterback to miss him when called upon to make a catch. And Tait was extremely good at making up for bad throws so that they still wound up in his mitts. His massive legs could push that body at incredible speed for his size, and compared to defensive secondary players who were 100 pounds lighter than him - trying to tackle him was like trying to stop a freight train. And when Tait was called on to make a block for a running back, those who were unfortunate enough to be targeted felt like they had been plowed over by a Union Pacific locomotive. The nickname stuck - so that when the “Freight Train” made a play, the Stanford student section would start chanting lyrics, singing along to a new song by Metallica that was first sung just a few miles away in San Francisco playing over the stadium speakers - No Leaf Clover - “Then it comes to be that the soothing light / At the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way / Here it comes.” Tait’s physical gifts were built right along with his mental skill on the field. Under Walsh and his position coaches, Tait had also become an incredible football mind. He absorbed every lesson Walsh and the coaches taught - from how plays unfold across the whole field, to how his own position operated in various schemes to how plays themselves were drawn, even how the players' workouts augmented play making. Tait employed these skills relentlessly. He might have been a freight train in one play but in the next he could work with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. That versatility made him almost impossible for opposing teams to defend against, Tait was one of the few players on the college level Walsh ever trusted to have the quarterback or center make audibles in an instant based on the defense. What generational greats like Peyton Manning was to Tennessee or Charles Woodson was to Michigan, Tait Holden was at Stanford. After four seasons, when Tait finally declared for the NFL draft, he was a Stanford team captain, a 4-time First Team Academic and on the field All-American. It was rumored that Tait was the inspiration for the creation of the Mackey Trophy to recognize the best tight end in college football since he never won a Heisman. Nevertheless, he was an easy top ten first round pick. Tait spent 8 years in the NFL during the 2000s, amassing 2 Superbowl rings, 7 consecutive selections for the pro bowl, and 4 first team all pro rankings. It was argued in NFL circles that if he had continued playing, he would have been tied with Jason Witten and Tony Gonzalez as the greatest tight ends of the modern NFL. He was definitely heading for the Hall of Fame. But, unexpectedly, at the age of 30, Tait retired from professional sports. The official reason Tait gave was that he wanted to make sure he maintained his health from possible injury or concussion disorder. CTE was becoming more and more popular in the discussion of player health and Tait was a massively hard tackler. But the real reason was very different. Social media barely existed at the end of Tait’s career, and at that time the press barely covered player families unless they were famous beforehand. No one ever spoke of the players' children. So, few outside his team and fewer true friend’s knew about Tait’s wife. Her name was Jess Walker. Tait met her at a party when he was a Stanford freshman. Next to Tait, she was tiny at 5’1” and 105 pounds. But she was perfect for her spot on the gymnastics team. And she had gotten involved in a new sport from a gymnastics coach in Santa Cruz that he called “Crossfit.” For the first time in his life, Tait was thunderstruck by a girl. He was awestruck that such a petite girl could be so fit and strong and do the things she could do. But it was every single conversation with Jess that pulled Tait in. He could just lie on a couch and hold her and talk with her for days on end it seemed. They soon began exclusive dating and became quite the item on campus. But, as sometimes happens, in their junior year, Jess retired from team sports as she was pregnant and soon gave birth to a baby boy - Matthew Kane Holden. Although Tait wasn't religious, he had been raised with salt of the earth, mid-western values. So his first inclination was to marry Jess, stop football, and go to work. But, both Jess and her parents would not hear of it. They refused to allow Tait to give up his career and his future, even with a child on the way. Eventually, Tait agreed, but he and his family would provide everything Jess and Kane needed while waiting for him to go to the NFL. The Holden's lived up to every word - with Jess completing an MBA while waiting. Finally, in Tait's second year in the League, he and Jess married in a tiny ceremony in the prairie church in Nebraska where his family had married for generations. Tait deeply loved Jess and his boy. Though his looks and body made him a virtual pin up model with the expected continual offers of sex when he was on the road with the team - and sometimes right in front of Jess - he was absolutely faithful to them. They seemed to be on the road to long term happiness. But then the phone call came - There had been an accident on the freeway. Jess’s petite body stood no chance in the force of the impact, and she had passed from her injuries. Luckily Kane had been with his grandparents so he was unharmed. But Jess was gone. He was widowed at 30 years old. Tait was devastated. He decided at that moment to do everything he could to provide family and stability for his son, and to not risk his body again. Tait retired from football less than a month later. And rather than live on his well-invested football money - he had been paid over 38 million dollars in his career which had already almost doubled through wise investment - or become a coach, Tait decided to use some of his money to go back to his alma mater - Stanford. Tait was easily accepted into Stanford Medical School, graduating as a single dad with an MD and a PhD in what was then a new and upcoming field called Sports Psychology. After four years of residency at The University of Pennsylvania, Tait became a licensed sports psychiatrist. He was specifically approached and accepted a job offer from the NFL corporate offices in New York. He was commissioned to begin a new mental health services division under the contract that had just been negotiated between the Player’s Union and the League. Tait provided psychological services to any team organization, from mental health seminars and how to develop mind-body connection to interviewing potential draft prospects for teams from a psychological perspective. When Tait made that call to Kane, he was 44 years old. He had gone on to become the manager of behavioral health practitioners for the League and an incredibly respected NFL representative. He showed favoritism to no one, not even his old coaches and teams and teammates. And, as a former player, he was in particularly high demand to supplement mental health services and team doctors. Through it all, Tait saw to any need his parents, sisters, and son had that they could not meet for themselves. Tait was the man his father and grandfather taught him to be - a man who takes care of his own, protects his own, and provides for his own. Physical Giant, Retired NFL All-Pro, MD from Stanford – Tait really was an Alpha male force of nature. Given the man he was, as soon as he got a hint that his son may be in trouble, Tait dropped everything and flew to San Francisco. *** Kane and Lacey walked into Hog Island Oyster Company about ten minutes before the reservation time. When they approached the maitre’d desk and asked for the Holden reservation, he looked at them rather judgmentally, said they did not take reservations, and then asked them for identification. Once the asswipe was satisfied, he gave them one last sneer and invited them to follow. They were not prepared for where they were going. Apparently the restaurant did take reservations - for Tait Holden. They were escorted to an entire section of reserved outdoor patio seating. In front of them stretched one of the most panoramic views of the San Francisco bay and the bay bridge that anyone could take in. Before they took their seats, they went to the edge of the pier to take in the sight. Of course, for all except the maitre’d, there was another view most of the males had taken in as much as they could. Kane didn’t have to look around to sense the eyes locked onto them - well her. Lacey. Kane was accustomed to it by now. It was something similar to the reaction his father received from women, a reaction he knew he would see and hear again soon enough. Part of him rather enjoyed the looks of envy directed at him. And part of him felt insanely self-conscious and inadequate, as those same looks that were awed by Lacey judged him to be totally lacking compared to the woman on his arm. Lacey Masters had it all. She was a 27 year old drop-dead beauty. Daughter of a Bank of America executive. She had competed twice for Ms. California, and the only thing that truly held her back from winning the title was her 5’6” stature. Like his parents, Kane met Lacey at Stanford, where she had been a cheerleader. Of course, she was just as stunning back in college as now, which cowed Kane. But, he also felt more than a little intimidated by her intellect. She was no stereotypical empty airhead. Lacey was a brilliant financial mind. Even if she had not been a banker's daughter and born to the work, her skills at winning in the markets singled her out as being an up and comer in the corporate world. She worked for the investment firm Dodge and Cox as an analyst and personal portfolio manager, already bringing in a very solid quarter million dollar salary before bonuses each year. She also had a fantastic personal portfolio that seemed to grow whenever the stock market bell rang. In every way, she was the proverbial catch. Then, there was the man beside her. In a way that no one could actually put a finger on, Kane Holden just didn't seem to match up. It wasn’t that Kane was bad looking, True, Lacey was dressed in a fantastic dress and heels that made her stand a couple inches taller than Kane, who in bare feet stood exactly the same height as Lacey. True, his father had the chiseled, rugged good looks of romance and cowboy western novel cover models. But, Kane was not bad looking at all. His features were softer. Kinder. He was what most girls in high school and college described over and over as “cute” - at those moments when those same girls were alone comparing the guys around them. While Lacey was closer to a 10, Kane was more of a 7 or 8. But he was not ugly by any stretch. It wasn't that Kane was lacking in any sort of lack of physical fitness. Sure, Kane had gained about ten pounds since college, but that didn’t mean that he had a full out dad bod or anything. Sure, while Lacey had her beauty queen looks and religiously worked out with weights and yoga, Kane was not exactly a slouch. He had inherited the Holden family athletic gene and had been a 5 year wrestler at Stanford. And now, he was pursuing his other sporting gift - golf. Kane had taken up golf in high school after wrestling season and discovered he had quite a knack for it. With great coaching, Kane had capitalized on that talent, having managed to secure a spot on the PGA tour two years prior. No one in their right mind would claim that a Stanford wrestler and a professional golfer was not successful. It was just that Kane had inherited his mother’s height and weight rather than his father’s - as Kane wrestled at the 141 pound weight class. And unlike his father’s gargantuan, ripped muscles when he was in college sports, Kane was again softer - even when he was in wrestling shape. Kane had lithe muscles and a hint of abs under his shirt rather than the etched, deep 8-pack of his father. Kane had succeeded in wrestling and golf as a good tactician, with flexibility, speed, and technique as allies - the skills of a gymnast that he had inherited from his mother. He just didn’t have the overwhelming physical power combined with tactics that his father had - or that Lacey had in her own more feminine way. And while just becoming a Stanford wrestler and pro golfer was successful, he was middle of the road in both. He was good… good enough. But, he was never going to win the way his Dad and wife did. Kane’s personality didn’t quite match Lacey, that was true. They seemed to be from the “opposites that attract” spectrum rather than being “birds of a feather.” Kane was reserved and somewhat introverted compared to Lacey’s extroverted nature. With his father being away so much as a pro footballer and later medical school and residency, child Kane became a pure “mama’s boy.” Thus, he was crushed when his mother passed. Tait had been as well, but he had an adult perspective that the ten year old Kane did not. Tait had engaged the best therapy possible for his son, of course. And the giant man had been nothing but loving and gentle with his son, sensing his quiet, reserved nature. As Kane was treated by many others in his life. To a fair share of women, that vulnerable side was seen as an endearing quality, again something they called “cute.” But, to others, especially certain males in the elite circles of academics and athletics and later business, Kane was a tempting target to use and step on. Except none ever wanted to face the wrath of Tait Holden or later the corporate power of the Masters. So they left Kane alone - most of them. Looks, physique, mind, attitude, personality. It wasn’t any of these single characteristics that made Kane not match. It was all of these things taken together. Kane was the embodiment of “one of these things is not like the others.” He shouldn’t have been. But, he was. And something deep inside him knew it. It was a feeling people could sense radiating from him. Preoccupation. Tentativeness. Withdrawal. Inadequacy. Good enough. That was Kane in a nutshell - good enough. Good enough - but not great. In any other life Kane has success people only dreamed of. But compared to the others he loved, he was totally outshined; but, he was good enough. As he and Lacey waited for water to be brought to their table, Kane was being swallowed by “good enough.” Kane was cute, vulnerable, had a scrappy puppy quality, and Lacey had come to love him for that and more. But – Tait Holden. He knew Tait Holden was quantum leaps beyond any man Lacey had ever met. Though Lacey was certainly accustomed to getting attention and getting hit upon and being a very strong, dominant woman - she had never been exposed to the quality and quantity of Alpha male Tait Holden in person brought to the table. Kane had no idea how she would react. He knew Lacey loved him. Or it certainly felt like it. But, he knew how his Dad affected women. He had seen it all his life. He knew Tait was no predator. He was no so called “Chad.” He never set out to seduce women. In fact, Tait had always been loyal and honorable toward his mother and any other woman as far as he knew. Stealing a woman away from another was just anathema to him. Before or after Jess death, he had never been part of the underground or above ground athlete culture for women and parties and sex. Tait considered that to be beneath him or any proper man. He had taught Kane that. And - Kane knew he carried the pain every widowed person did. He had seen it when his father had visited his mother’s grave. He still loved HER, even now. Kane thought maybe that was why he was still single. And yet… Kane knew what was coming, and it always inspired a feeling - dread. Kane felt awful about that. He felt so conflicted that he both loved and dreaded his father. His father was just… his father. No bravado, no pretend machismo, nothing at all unnatural for him. Tait was nothing but the archetypal Real Man, in every positive way. Tait had done nothing on purpose to inspire such dread in Kane. Yet, it was there, rolling in him - the feeling of being good enough under the glare of greatness. Then, there was another feeling the son had about his father - a wrong feeling Kane thought. The feeling had no name that Kane could attach to it. He buried it as much as he could as he was afraid of it. He avoided his father because of it. But that day at the gym a few months ago - that other man made him truly feel it for the first time. Kane didn’t want to relive those moments, but he did in a flash. And the feelings that burst out hit him, making his thoughts spin - worse than they already were. How would Lacey react? What would she do? What would he do? Why did he feel this way? He didn’t know if these feelings around - well THEM who Tait may as well have been the leader of - was a part of him that was alpha like his father that he was uncomfortable expressing for where it could lead. He didn’t know if it was admiration or desire or hero worship or… A longing to be like his father or not like his father. It just had no name. It was like – Kane was brought back to the real world and away from the whirlwind of his thoughts by an audible gasp and rustle that went through the entire restaurant. Again, Kane instinctively knew what it was. Who it was. Again, he didn't have to look up to know what had happened to generate that response. But, just like gravity around a black hole, Kane was drawn in and turned to see. Kane’s first thought was that his father looked bigger than he remembered, if such a thing were possible. Tait towered at least a full head over… Well, everyone there. That was normal for a man who was 6’9” outside of a basketball team locker room, but it wasn't just his height. Kane could have sworn that his father was physically wider and more thickly muscled than even during his playing days. Maybe it was just his clothes, Kane reasoned. Tait was dressed in all black - black polo shirt, black slacks and leather belt, black leather dress boots. The height of simplicity. Thing was the way these clothes looked. Every stitch Tait wore was custom tailored. His clothes fit so precisely as to highlight every muscle to the hilt. His massive pecs were totally outlined, his quad development shown through his trousers, an impossibly deep v-taper from shoulders down to his waist, even some of the thicker veins were visible through the cloth. Yet, none of the clothing was so tight as to look like Tait had deliberately done it. They simultaneously looked painted on but loose and comfortable in the way only superbly custom-made clothing can. It wasn’t a matter of Tait showing his wealth or station in life or even simply vanity however. Fact was - no one made off-the-shelf clothing for someone like Tait. Simply finding pants long enough was often difficult, much less pants that could house his monstrous quads and calves. Finding size 18 shoes anywhere in any style at all was nearly impossible. Tait had needed custom clothes as long as Kane could remember. Kane heard another sharp intake of breath - this time from directly behind him. He turned to see Lacey with her mouth agape in shock. “Kane,” she barely whispered, “is… is that-” “Ya, that's Dad.” Kane replied. “Told you. Dad is a bit… different.” Lacey had seen plenty of well built, muscular, handsome men in her years. Plenty of very tall men when she cheered for Stanford basketball. Plenty of so-called Alpha males on the field and at parties and in the halls of power. But Tait - she was just floored, stunned, speechless. He was the biggest man she had ever seen. The sheer size of him. He looked like he could make up three ordinary sized men. And, if she were honest - his sheer sexiness was astonishing. His height, his classic chiseled looks, his commanding vibe. All those things she knew in scattered pieces in other men - but in Tait all combined and magnified in one. She had not even spoken to him yet, but everything about him screamed that this was a man among men. Lacey felt her crotch tingle involuntarily. An animal desire from within her. She couldn’t help it. And she wasn't alone. Every woman in the restaurant was having the same reaction. They all felt the… whatever it is that women feel in the presence of a proverbial apex alpha male. And the men - they all felt what they had in their own package either flex with the same desire or shrivel as it was obvious they were totally outclassed. As the young couple watched, Tait looked down upon the maitre'd - who came no taller than his upper pecs - and spoke to him. They could not hear what was said, but they could see the person who had been more than a bit snobbish and prickish to them physically wilt. Kane noted that the same man who asked them for their identification didn’t ask Tait for the same as he fumbled over himself. At that moment, Tait saw Kane and Lacey in the distance. He said something to the maitre’d and then just walked past him as if he no longer existed. Tait walked through the lunch time crowd like Morpheus in The Matrix. Totally direct and purposeful, yet strolling through the sea of people as if they didn’t exist. All while the maitre’d looked as if he were physically drained - perhaps like Moses after seeing the Burning Bush. As soon as Tait came through the patio doors into the open air, he looked to Kane and said heartfully, “How are you, Son?” Father and son began to walk toward each other. Lacey stood, frozen, watching. Her shock and nervousness only grew as the great man approached. It did not escape her that Tait seemed to cover the same distance that took Kane ten steps in five. The giant reached out and took his flesh and blood by the hand in a massive enveloping handshake and then pulled him into a hug. Lacey thought she could hear Kane reply, but it was lost somewhere in Tait's lower chest muscles - where Kane's head landed upon the man who had 15 inches of height on him. But - that didn't matter to her… yet. That voice - Tait’s deep, smooth, confident voice. Tait sounded like a combination of the bass of Vin Diesel and the smoothness of Lawrence Fishburne. So strong and confident, yet so soothing. That voice could crush an ego or inspire armies or wrap you in curtains of safety and security, depending on how he used it. She understood in a moment why Tait was so effective as a psychiatrist or as a team leader before that. That voice attached to that man could make you want to tell every secret you had and love doing it. She felt herself become even more aroused hearing him. She started to understand what Kane had meant about gravity. She felt pulled toward him, like a moth to a flame. The perfect voice, the perfect height, the perfect muscle, the perfect attitude - she just couldn't help it. He was so much more than Kane’s description could ever hope to convey. She noticed something else in that moment of embrace. Kane. Though they seemed so different - and they were very different - she could see so much of the son in his father and so much of the father in the son. Kane’s voice was baritone rather than bass, not quite as silky smooth and confident. But she could hear so many similarities. Kane had a quiet strength about his voice, much as the magnified version in Tait. There had been more than a few nights when she had become lost in Kane’s voice. Kane’s face and physical features were so different from Tait's - yet there was no question they were father and son. Kane was what Tait would have been if he were more of the non-descript power behind the throne type. A very different type of masculine power; yet it was there. So different - yet so similar. That similarity to Tait made Lacey desire Kane more too. She watched as Tait released Kane and together they approached the table where she was. Kane - she felt ashamed for her reaction to Tait. She loved Kane. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Kane. Why was she so pulled into wanting Tait to f– She crushed that thought. “And you must be Lacey. It is cliche but Kane has told me so much about you,” she heard as her vision became blocked by a man mountain. Lacey looked up and UP. She felt like she was a little girl again standing in front of her father as Tait held out a wide hand. She extended her own hand and Tait took it. “Dad, this is my fiancé Lacey Masters. Lacey, please meet my Dad, Tait Holden.” Kane introduced. Tait’s voice seemed to wrap the young woman in velvet smoothness. “An absolute pleasure to finally meet the girl my son was lucky enough to catch… or was it entrap?” Tait cracked a mischievous smile with just the hint of a complement toward her and the good natured rib at his son. Kane's cheeks flashed an inordinate amount of red in embarrassment. Lacey giggled. Fuck that smile is like liquid sex. What is it like to kiss–, she thought. “He didn't trap me.” She replied then added almost as an afterthought. “Well… maybe he did, but it's a trap I enjoyed falling into. The pleasure is mine, Doctor Holden.” Tait turned to his son for a moment. “Kane, you didn’t tell me you had found such a keeper of a girl. Better hold tight.” He flashed a smile again before he turned again to Lacy. “Tait, please. You’re not a client in my office, and I still have enough of the ranch in me to hate formality from my family - or close enough to family. Of course, there is one exception I make to formal custom - one I always liked with a beautiful young woman.” Tait’s voice dropped slightly, becoming almost intimate. “‘Enchanté, Mademoiselle.’” In a practiced motion mastered through thousands of repetitions, Tait raised her arm while simultaneously bowing himself and kissed her hand. Lacey shivered. Her panties very nearly became wet in desire. Tait was so big he could totally close her from the outside world if he embraced her. She could tell from the thick, weight lifter built muscles of his hand that he was strong enough to lift her to the ceiling with one arm with no effort at all. She imagined Tait in the gym putting dumbbells more than her body weight easily over his head. Her eyes wandered up his thick corded forearms that radiating raw, crushing power, and, Jesus Christ, that bulging biceps even partly under the sleeve. What must that feel like to… “That’s my Dad, just a smooth-talking, muscle-bound Cassinova.” Kane quipped. Leave it to Kane to ruin the moment, Lacey thought. She almost snapped at him for his rudeness, but was stopped by a good natured chuckle from Tait. Lacey could not tell if the laugh was a “touché” recognition of his son’s verbal jab - or an Alpha male’s amusement at a lesser being trying to stand up to someone far beyond him. Maybe it was both she thought. “Maybe so, Son. I admit to being a softy sometimes under it all. I suppose Kane learned how to trap good women from me.” Tait pointed his free hand toward Lacey’s seat. “May I?” Lacey smiled even more as she gave her ascent. Tait lowered her hand and held it as he escorted her back to her seat. As he led her, she tried to hide the fact that she was shaking at his touch. She understood intellectually that Tait was just showing proper manners. But her body didn’t want to believe it. And… she failed. Tait felt her response and suppressed a knowing smile. As Lacey thought, he wasn’t purposefully trying to do anything. It was just that he had seen this so often that he couldn't help but feel a bit of amusement. Years ago, Jess’s mother told him that common courtesy from him could be misinterpreted by many women because of the masculinity and power he conveyed. So, Tait was very cognizant of where to draw lines with most women. She was family so he would allow more than with most women. But the lines were still there with a woman so much his junior - no matter how much closer to her age his looks made him. Still, very first impressions of Lacey Masters - he liked this girl. Kane - he noticed her response too. Like his father, he had seen this so many times over the years. It was what he knew would happen and was afraid would grow. He hoped this would end when Lacey became more familiar with his father’s presence. The way his mother or grandma or aunts were around his father. They would just laugh at it when they felt it and give their men a smooch. Still he felt a jab of familiar jealousy - no woman had ever responded to a simple display of manners from him like that, much less his own fiancé . Maybe she had never responded like that to anything he had ever done. No matter how intimate. Even in… Kane’s feelings of inadequacy grew even more. And with it his internal conflict expanded. After Lacey was seated, Tait moved to the side and took the only other available seat at the table… Next to the young woman. Kane mentally kicked himself. He had unconsciously upped the level of temptation. He had chosen to sit opposite of Lacey facing her across the table out of habit - the way they always sat when going out. Tait hadn't thought anything about it. He simply slid into where he thought he should sit - within inches of Lacey. It was innocent. Anyone would sit in the only available chair… but now Kane felt even more uncomfortable. Seeing them like this, side by side - it was oddly striking. They sort of matched, like his mother. They looked so–. Awkward silence again took over, but after a few moments, Tait broke the ice. Again, he directed to Lacey. “I suppose this is when we begin the awkward small talk you do when you're meeting the in-laws? I remember mine. Maybe I should just tell some embarrassing childhood stories on Kane like any parent does when meeting their kids’ sweetheart.” Tait flashed his million dollar smile signaling the humor, which made Kane blush again - hoping against hope his Dad wasn't going to actually do that. Tait and Lacey couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was indeed the perfect thing to break the ice. But her laugh was almost like a schoolgirl enamored of the hot new guy. Of course, she was nervous meeting Tait but - that laugh. It was more than nerves. Without realizing - in a half flirtatious way, her hand moved to Tait's forearm…This time, she was definitely wet. Thank fuck what she was wearing would never let on to her condition. But she felt it. Her biology betrayed her - and what she felt. Crazy, hard muscle. Veins. What about other veins lower down. And his skin - it was an odd juxtaposition of thick and thin, hard and supple - like a weightlifter. Like a strong man. A bodybuilder. Her fingers lingered as she felt movement - the small and large ripples of individual cords of muscle, each of which had to be bigger than Kane's whole forearm. She kept feeling as she caught the scent of Tait's heady musk, a clean but utterly masculine scent - sandalwood and leather and cigar and pheromones and the primitive primate part of her brain responded. Involuntarily, she drew in a breath. That breath - damnit, had she been caught? Lacey’s cheeks flushed and she dropped her hand, though she didn't want to. She was feeling up to her beau’s father. That was awful, but… I have to be good, she thought. She truly believed she was being totally proper now not feeling Tait’s arm - it never reached her consciousness that her hand had just dropped only to come to rest on Tait’s massive quad. The entire previous exchange felt like minutes, but in reality it was just a second or two. Lacey continued, “I hope it's not too awkward.” Her answer was both a proper answer and a Freudian slip. “I make no promises that I won't mess up. But, I'll try my best,” Tait said to both of them, feigning innocence. Tait knew her hand was on his quad… but drew no attention to it. Kane jumped in. “Speaking of awkward - you're looking… BIG, Dad.” Now it was Tait's turn to flash the slightest of emotion - Pride. There was always something special when your kid noticed that you were reaching your goals. “I thought you'd quit working out as much with the Draft interview schedule keeping you so busy.” “I'm glad you noticed, Son. Been working hard the last while even with the schedule. Some OK results for not enough sleep and depending on the team catering crews to give me healthy food, if not exactly geared for me. But, I do want to get bigger.” “Bigger?!?” both twenty-somethings said incredulously in unison. Tait felt Lacey’s hand begin to squeeze his quad. Then move to squeeze another spot. It was a bit of a thrill to feel that a grown woman’s hand - petite though she was - could not even span the single femoral head of his right quad. Just one of the four main groups - wider than the length of her hand from her fingers to wrist. She was looking for weakness. She would not find it. Lacey - she was indeed feeling his leg, trying to figure out what bigger meant. She decided there was no way. How could there be - he was so big already. So totally hard. He had to be immensely strong. Everywhere she felt - nothing but rock hard muscle. It couldn’t get any bigger. Tait could not help but to feed on their stunned energy, particularly Lacey. He found a strange sort of enjoyment at the prospect of showing off for his family and pushing them into disbelief. He decided to go with the flow. He opened a light version of a jock smirk to their reaction. “ “But you're already so BIG?!?” Lacey finally said. Tait held out his right forearm and biceps and began to tense and relax them in view of the kids. It was not a full out flex at all - more of just moving his fingers and wrist making the muscles twist and dance. As he did so, the cords of thick muscle and veins exploded and the promise of a truly monumental biceps mountain hinted it was alive under the black polo sleeve. “I'm certainly trying. It was my New Year’s resolution, so to speak. Maybe it's just an old man's vanity trying to keep up with all these NFL prospects I work with who are even younger than you two. It’s fun to still be able to out work and out lift them, I have to admit. “I turn 45 in a few months, and it is more than fun to see them - please do not take offense Kane, Lacey - but it is more than fun to see them have the same reaction you two are having right now when I get a good pump. I am going for conditioning too, not just size. You know someone my size can put on a lot of muscle AND fat just by existing and eating enough. But I want to carve up the size I am putting on. Be lean and cut as well as bigger. Actually, I am aiming to be better than I ever was when I did the pin up calendars when I played in the league. One last time and hold onto it as long as time and age will let me.” Lacey’s hand groped even more at hearing that. If you looked closely, her eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing had become a bit faster. More shallow. “Dr. Hold – Tait,” Lacey corrected. “Almost 45?!? You don't look a day over 30.” Kane groaned inwardly. His anger had been growing the entire exchange. He was going to let it all go as a natural reaction that Lacey couldn’t help. His father’s gravity. That it would go away. But that level of blatant hitting on another man right in front of him was uncalled for. It was as clumsy and in his face as if she were still a teenage girl getting attention from the hot jock. Right down to the giggles. He could see Lacey fucking groping his leg and just dying to touch even more – Kane almost said something when Tait stepped in. He deftly slid his own palm over top of Lacey’s hand and pressed down. He stopped her moving. Still feeling him of course, but she was no longer exploring. “Thanks for the flattery. You're too kind. But let's be honest. The gray hair is coming out a lot more than it used to be. I still recover from a workout very fast compared to someone else my age, but not like I did five years ago. We all lose our battle with time. So, you two should enjoy every moment. I have no regrets except…” Tait stopped for a moment. Kane could see a flash across his face of the love his father had for his mother. Tait would never allow himself to break down in public. But that reaction to a thought of his mother was enough to break Kane's anger. “Except for perhaps one. And, frankly, you remind me a bit of her, Lacey.” Tait took a breath to center himself and then he continued, “I've lived life the best I could. And still try. That's why I'm doing this. To live life the best I can before I can’t. I want the same for you two. No matter what that means and where it takes you both. Be who you are and live life to the fullest.” Lacey stopped her attempts at feeling, leaving her hand resting on his quad, but followed up, curiously. “Living our best lives is one thing, but… a pin up calendar?” Tait laughed deeply. “Ya. One of the bright ideas of the League.” Tait said sarcastically, clearly amused at the thought. “They were trying to get more female fans. So their solution was to have those of us who were particularly good looking or at least had good abs that they could airbrush pose for these pin up calendars. Guys of the Gridiron, or something just as cringeworthy, haha. “Never did a thing to get more women fans of the game as far as I know. We just became a little bit of - well - fantasy material for some women and a few guys I guess.” Tait chucked again. “But I did a few calendars to raise money for charity while I was playing. Like, the ones that raise money for animal shelters - what do they call them now “Bullies and Biceps” or “Hunks and Hounds–” Tait laughed again. “I was there with all these fitness models and bodybuilders. A fish out of water as a pro football player with these little pin up dudes. Anyway, they raised some money for good causes. That I am happy to have done. You might even be able to find some of me when I was Kane's age showing off my assets.” “But ya, I want to get truly massive if I can... in fact, I'm working out at the 49ers facility while I am here to stick to the goal. Do that at every team facility when I have to go to in-person interviews. You're both welcome to come if you like. I'm sure the team wouldn't mind.” Tait smiled. “Really,” Lacey said, clearly excited to see Tait in something a bit more revealing than proper clothing. Now it was Tait’s turn. He knew what she was thinking and slightly rubbed Lacey’s hand on his quad. It was imperceptible to anyone visually. But Lacey felt it. “Of course. As often as you like.” He looked at Kane. “Both of you. I’ve never done a workout with you, Son. That would be amazing if we could. I can even try and set up something permanent if you both want.” Feeling Tait’s touch, seeing what she saw, hearing Tait’s invitation to the gym. Lacey just couldn't resist anymore. It was so cliche - but cliche’s work because they are so often real. “Tait - would it be OK if I… if I… see your-” she stumbled over herself, a ball of hormones and nerves. Kane finally snapped. He had endured so much these last few minutes. And this was the last straw. “Lacey, get hold of yourself. This is embarrassing. You wanna date my Dad or something. You sure as hell are feeling him up. Maybe it is just better if I leave you two to it - fuck…” Kane stood to leave, when both Tait and Lacey said, “ Kane, WAIT–” Both immediately withdrew their hands from each other. And as they did Lacey realized just where her hands were. What she was doing… Fuck. Kane was right. She had been flirting with Tait this whole time. She'd been touching him since he had sat in his chair. She just… couldn't help it. Tait was so different and dominant compared to every man she had ever seen, she just felt compelled. Tait was just too powerful a presence for her instincts. She did it even though she intellectually didn't want to. And she had offended the man she loved. Lacey was about to say something when Tait again intervened, again saving the young people. “I'm sorry son. I shouldn't have allowed the conversation to go that way. And I should have stopped anything that crossed any boundaries that you both have. It is not Lacey’s fault. It is mine. You can remember how many people asked me to flex for them or take pics with them when you were a kid. It bothered your mother until she came to understand that it is nothing more than a compliment and I never would dishonor another person or myself by crossing a boundary. She even came to laugh at it. I'm sorry if I have violated any boundary between you two. Can you forgive me?” Tait’s statement about his mother brought back a flood of memories. Indeed he could remember so many times as a kid when people would ask his father to flex or ask for photos… And they'd try to feel his arm. Doing it for kids was one thing but he also remembered the women. So many women. He also remembered his parents laughing and joking after. He always thought it was his Dad being a player - and not the football kind. But now he remembered conversations. Laughing about some reaction. They never made sense to his child’s brain… Until now. “I… I guess so Dad. I didn't remember until now but she and grandma used to laugh about it. She thought you being a hunk was great fun. I… Just…” “No son. I understand. Your mother was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I was quite protective of her if you remember. Like I said, Lacey reminds me of her a bit. More than I think you can know. So maybe it is a bit of nostalgia too, no offense intended to Lacey. It is a GREAT compliment. But perhaps I became too familiar out of habit.” “I get it Dad. And I'm sorry. Both of you.” Tait then smiled. “OK, now if it is not violating any boundary and in the spirit we just talked about. If you're OK Kane and Lacey I'm happy to satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and flex for her. You haven't seen the truly bigger me either. And then we will laugh about it. I mean I'm not in the habit of flexing in a Michelin star restaurant. A different kind of beef than what is on the surf and turf? We can satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and I doubt she will ever ask anyone again as I doubt she will ever see any bigger…” Tait smiled broadly - a smile that could melt glaciers. Lacey said, “Kane, please. Really, I am just curious. That's all.” “Alright. Alright. Go ahead. I suppose you will always wonder until you see it. And I have to admit I am a little curious myself. You’re bigger than I ever remember you being, Dad.” Kane said in surrender - and it was true that he was curious. He didn't want to admit it and it was for a very different reason… but he wanted to see his dad flex too. “Well then kiddo, I'll give you a dose of the cannons to feel later.” Tait laughed deeply. “In the meantime, Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Tait bent down in his chair a bit to not draw quite as much attention as a full out flex would do. He held his arm down to be within easy reach and then curled his monster forearm and fist around and up. The muscles of the upper arm rose and Rose and ROSE. Tait smiled as the gigantic muscle took full form. Even Kane in disbelief said, “Christ, Dad.” Tait’s arm was the diameter of a volleyball. A tremendously shaped, peaked mountain exploded out, covered with several thick and thin veins across its surface. The thick/thin skin Lacey noted earlier traced out many striations and a well-developed cleft between the heads of the muscle. The well-made polo covering it made a creaking sound, as the stitching of the custom made shirt was stretched to the limit before Tait rolled the sleeve back to afford a full view of the monster ball and the massive hanging horseshoe beneath the dome. Tait pumped it out and in a couple times. “Thanks Son. It is better with a pump, being honest, but it’s still pretty good. Go ahead Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Lacey’s trembling hands - both of them - reached over and tried to wrap around Tait’s arm. She failed hardcore with many inches between the hand on the bottom and the hand on the top. In fact, her top hand could not even cover half of the biceps mountain. “Oh my GOD.” she said. She tried to squeeze it, but she had no ability to move it at all. It felt like a warm bronze statue in the summer. The flesh was unyielding to her at all. Yet - she felt it move, but only at Tait’s whim. Tait smiled more broadly as he saw her reaction. She moved her hands, trying to feel any soft spot, any weakness, any spot at all that felt like flesh and not rock. There was none. “Oh my God, Tait, Kane, it is SO BIG and HARD. I mean you had hard muscles when we were in school but nothing like this. Tait, you must be the strongest person ever in the gym. Jeez.” “Go ahead and hit it a bit if you want. It’s the same.” Lacey obeyed, fawning as her slight pops became harder and harder into slaps and then into punches. For a girl, Lacey was very strong and fit and knew how to throw a punch from her classes at the gym, Yet all she felt was a sting in her own hand as hit after hit did nothing but make Tait smile at her. “Fuck.” She said under her breath. “I don’t think I could make a dent in this with a baseball bat, Kane. It’s like all the muscle on your whole body is in this one arm. Your muscles have never felt like this. Your muscles are nothing like this. I bet if he squeezed you he could crush you. Wow.” She said under her breath. Tait laughed, “I take it you approve.” “It is the most manly muscle I have ever, ever felt. You’re right Tait. I never need to feel another muscle on a guy again. No one else will ever measure up. I can’t wait to see you put these football guys to shame in the 49ers gym. Can we go Kane, please. I really want to see Tait embarrass a few of those fucks I remember from school.” Tait was still flexing for Lacey, Lacey still feeling, and Kane … Kane still in utter awe. Kane would have felt offended that Lacey flatly said that she would never want to feel his body again after feeling his Dad’s but - he couldn’t. He had hugged his Dad earlier. He had felt his Dad’s body. And seeing this… he wondered if Lacey’s comment wasn’t true. He certainly could never build what his Dad had. He wished he could. He wished he could do ANYTHING to come even close to that. But he had no idea how. And Kane felt… something. Something like gravity. A pull toward SOMETHING... Kane never betrayed the gravity he felt toward his father’s muscle display. “I guess Lacey, if you want and if you are sure, Dad. I’ll go.” “Absolutely. I’ll call Roger Goodell and make it happen if I have to. He owes me a favor anyway. And… thanks for indulging and letting me show off just a bit Matty.” Kane groaned and Lacey looked up at Tait, even as he pumped his arm a few more times under her roaming hands. "Who is Matty?" Kane just looked down, his whole body seemingly turning red in embarrassment. Kane sighed. "Me. That’s what mom and dad called me as a kid. I went by Matt everywhere else except my family called me Matty - until I started using my middle name Kane in college. Guys back on the high school wrestling team heard Dad call me Matty, and the name stuck like glue." Tait looked a bit sheepish. "Damn, son. I’m sorry. There I go telling old men stories. It's just one of those old habits. I know how you feel about Matty." Lacey smiled and chuckled. “I, however, just got a little bit of leverage in the war between the sexes.” In a tremendously cheeky bold move, Lacey bent over and planted a small peck kiss on Tait’s still flexed biceps - the only part of him she could reach as big as he was. “Thank you, Tait. I may have to use it sometime… Matty.” Tait laughed hard and Kane turned redder still. It was really one of those classic parent stories they tell on their kids but… there was something in Lacey’s eyes, on her face. Something. And then it was gone. Tait spoke up. “At least if I do it now, Kane, I won’t get in as much trouble. But I will try to keep that as private as possible. Anyway, It will be a pleasure to show off for you both. It has been a while since someone appreciated what I do with the players – and to the players.” Tait laughed as he slowly lowered his arm. Lacey’s hands hung in mid air for a few moments before she lowered them. She loved Matty… rather Kane like her life depended on it, but… She just HAD to feel that arm again - HAD TO - when she could tell Tait what she really thought - alone when Kane would not hear. HAD TO before Tait left again for New York. “What do you mean Tait,” Lacey said shakily. “What do you do to players?” Tait smiled. "You both were athletes at Stanford. Imagine someone like Christian McCaffrey being told he has to be interviewed by an NFL staff psychiatrist for potential draft teams. He is expecting some short fat dork who has never even taken an elementary school flag football snap to walk in. How do those athletes react when they see me come in and the first thing I do is ask them to do is to take me through their daily workout... and the dork doc beats their ass in every lift." Kane said in a not exactly joking manner after the name “Matty” came out, "Dad has always liked to lord his abilities over other players." Tait looked at them both. "No, it's not that at all. Yes, keeping up with them or beating them in the gym is an ego boost to me, and it hits their ego. But it also serves a purpose in my psychological evaluation of them. “As a rookie in the League, no matter who you are or how good a college player you are, being new in the League, in practice and games and the locker room, you face being physically out-performed and bullied a bit by teammates and rival players. We are all paid professionals, but it is testosterone-fueled men and there is a pecking order and can be pissing wars and dick length contests, at least metaphorically. It is part of tradition, and playing with the best players in the world. Some say I am in the running for the greatest tight end of all time, and it happened to me. I remember getting my bell rung once like I was Big Ben in my first game with Charles Woodsen. Once I got accustomed to the League, half the time some corner in the secondary tried to make a tackle on me and they just bounced off. But that first year or two, I still got flattened more than once and reamed by the locker room and the coaches for it. “By me being a doctor and a retiree and still beating their lifts, I get to see in a small way how they will deal with adjustment to the League psychologically. Can they roll with it and adapt to not being Big Man on Campus anymore and be willing to learn or do they fold and wash out? It's important to see how they will react when I trash talk them a bit, since that will show me how they will take that trash talk in the locker room or that coach ripping them a new asshole for missing an assignment. They also tend to open up to me.a lot more after seeing proof that I really did play in the League. That, though I'm a doc now, I still know the NFL on the field and in the locker room - and could maybe still play if I wanted. That confidence and trust in me is important to get to their true feelings and attitudes and how those will gel with the various clubs and team cultures around the League." Lacey was utterly enchanted getting to hear some of Tait’s intellect and mental prowess at work. But even Kane understood, maybe for the first time in his life, that what he so often saw out of his dad wasn't just being a jock. He remembered what it was like to be called Matty by his teammates. How he sometimes felt belittled by it. Like a tiny boy when he would lose some practice matches or get out worked in the gym or starving to come in on weight. It gnawed at him so much so he changed his name. And the locker room at Stanford was even harder… he could nigh imagine what being a rookie in the NFL was like. The millions spent on one person - if they crumbled like he had crumbled at this lunch seeing so many innocent things as an attack. He understood. It made sense. Tait was doing them a favor by out performing them. Kane knew - he would do the same thing himself for the same reason if he had his Dad’s ability and prowess. Kane’s respect for his Dad expanded at that moment - he was more of a proper man than even he understood. The gravity toward his father increased… “What else do you do for the NFL?” Lacey asked… And so it went as the trio had a wonderful lunch. Lacey drove the conversation, pressing for more and more information about Tait. Tait, happily engaging and observing. And through the entire lunch, Lacey’s hand - whenever she could - touching and feeling Tait’s hard muscles when she thought Kane wouldn’t notice. Tait, having been told that it was no longer crossing a boundary, allowing Lacey to explore to a point. And Kane - gaining more and more appreciation and admiration. Kane’s resistance to the force that pulled him toward his dad slowly collapsing. Kane’s ability to resist his father in anything - slowly crumbling. The feeling… disturbing feeling, slowly increasing. The conflict that had slapped him in the face with the force of a steel chain to the mouth - slowly growing. But, finally, as it always does, the lunch came to an end. After Tait took care of the bill, the three of them walked through the door, and then stood outside. Tait first embraced his son. “I will be in town all week, son. I want to see you again, anytime I can. If not before the trip to the gym, then how about after that. I would really like a little father-son time if that is OK.” Tait then made his son look up as he looked down into the softer male face. “Maybe lunch or dinner, just you and me.” Tait’s tone was obvious - a time when Lacey was not there and when Kane would be a lot less defensive. And Kane could talk openly. Kane thought for a minute and nodded yes. He had never truly been able to say no to his Dad for long. He had never seen anyone who had truly been able to say no to Tait Holden. Then Tait turned to Lacey. “And you, young lady. Thank you for the wonderful meal and wonderful conversation. And I can’t wait to get to know you better as well.” “I can’t wait either, Tait.” Lacey said. The giant embraced the beauty queen, and the beauty queen returned the hug. Tait noticed something that no one could ever see given his size. Lacey - sure, she was hugging him. A hug that was a little too tight, a little too close, hands moving a little too much. She was feeling more than just his muscle again. She was leaning into him, like trying to draw strength from him. For what purpose unless it was – Tait felt her small hand slide just down just a bit. Too far down. The hand went over his hard glute cheek. Feeling, exploring. Kane could not see what she was doing given his massive frame. Tait did what he had done all night, only this time half out of reflex and half out of showing off. He flexed his glutes under her hand. The hand found them particularly impenetrable, as she traced lines until she found the entrance to one of his back pants pockets. The hand slid inside. Tait felt something… and then the hand withdrew and slid back up onto his low back. She pulled back, looked up, and gave Tait a strange, knowing glance. She then took Kane’s hand as if nothing had happened. As the three left the restaurant and Tait started for his car, Lacey could not help looking at Tait’s huge size 18 boots. She happened to wonder for a moment if the old saying was true, as she glanced down to Kane’s size 7 shoes… *** Tait got to the passenger door of the 49er’s team car and opened it. It was only then that he reached his hand into his back pants pocket. His fingers discovered a folded piece of paper. He withdrew it and opened it. Written there was a note - when had she had a chance to write this? - Was her hand feeling his leg, trying to get to a front pocket but was unable? Either way, she was good. Very good. “Tait - Please contact me ASAP. I need to see you again urgently. But text only. 123-555-1212. Please do not call. And PLEASE - Don't tell Kane. - Lacey” ***
  2. Broody

    POP, part 5 added 3/MAR

    Trying something a little different here. Basic synopsis: A powerful, dominant serial killer is murdering massive bodybuilders with his bare hands, and a police detective (himself a massive bodybuilder) must track him down while fighting his own lustful attraction to the uber-masculine perpetrator.] Warnings: Snuff, Gore, Horror POP “You’re supposed to wear a coverall, like me,” said Dr Stain, the medical examiner, who in his white head-to-toe gear, contrasted sharply with the slimy red gore that covered the entire apartment. “And look like a cumshot in a uterus, like you?” said Detective Carnitas. “Not likely, chum. ‘Sides, they didn’t have one in my size.” “They don’t have doors in your size, Detective.” “True. Guess I’m just too much man for this world.” Carnitas did have to turn sideways to fit his 6’6” 450 lbs of swollen muscles through the door of this crime-scene-cum-abattoir. “This guy was too. Now literally, I guess. So be careful what you wish for.” The giant detective looked at the body. It looked like a skeleton wrapped in a bag of oversized skin. “What the fuck are you on about? This was a fat dude that had some kind of weight-loss surgery.” “Very sudden weight-loss surgery.” The doctor extended a pair of stainless steel forceps and pulled up the skin of the ragged corpse’s chest. “Weird.” Carnitas grabbed the second tool offered by the pathologist and together they raised the pec skin, which had enough area to cover a 60 inch chest. “And this surgeon needs to sharpen his scalpel, look here.” Jagged rends broke the skin at the top and sides of the chest. “It’s like the fat just burst outta him,” said the dumbfounded cop. “Not fat.” The doc pointed at the ceiling, walls and windows. “Look around at all this tissue, it’s pure red meat, no adipose.” “Are you telling me some perp exploded an Olympia-sized, fully-conditioned bodybuilder in his own apartment? What kind of weapon could do that? There’s no grenade shrapnel or burns.” Det. Carnitas felt his heart racing. “No weapon.” “So he took it with him.” “Nope.” Carnitas looked askance at the doctor. “No need to tax your brain overmuch, Detective. There’s video.” The doctor stood and crossed to a desktop computer with a webcam and used his gloved hand to wipe gore off the screen. Carnitas took a sharp breath. It was a freeze-frame shot of a red explosion that was surely the moment of death. But the red burst had a milky-white center. He found himself holding his breath, his heart fluttering as he looked closer. It was a man’s back. Though the man was half the size of the victim, he had the most densely muscled back Carnitas had ever seen. The groove of the spinal erectors in his Christmas tree was deep enough to trap a man’s fingers up to the third knuckle. His lats looked like twin wine barrels tucked under his brawny arms. His massive, tenticular traps formed a monstrous Kraken that seemed to pin Carnitas’ brown eyes with a burning glare. “What the fuck?” The doctor grabbed the mouse to click the symbol to back the vid up ten seconds. Carnitas gasped when primal sounds erupted from a fully equipped stereo system. The video showed a bloated mega-heavyweight bodybuilder who could have been Carnitas’ twin, held aloft and practically vibrating with lust in the concrete arms of the muscular perp. A high-pitched sexual whine ululated out of the bodybuilder’s cum-covered lips as the perps lats spread to eclipse their view of the vic’s mid-torso. The dominating bear-hug compressed the middle of the massive victim’s physique, swelling the top half of his pecs so much they pushed up into his chin, forcing his neck back til his whole head was obscured by deformed pec-meat blistered with stretch marks. Beastly basso-profundo grunts shot out of the subwoofer as that inhuman back rippled and flexed with incalculable strength. “Fucking hell.” Carnitas was finding it hard to breathe. The grunts got longer, louder and deeper, a counterpoint to the rising tone of the vic’s squeal, which sounded like air leaking out of a balloon. “No…” burbled the helpless vic, just as his body became a crimson supernova. Red flesh burst in all directions out of distressed skin as muscles built over years of obsessive workouts splattered like bugs on a windshield against vastly superior brawn. Carnitas was shocked and bewildered, but what happened next truly turned his world upside down. The perps wordless grunts slid into consonants and vowels as a long lingering… “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!!!” … vibrated the floorboards. The sheer manly amplitude of the perp’s ultra-deep voice traveled the distance to where Carnitas stood, thundered up his shins, crossed in an X across his 38” quads and locked his groin in a vice. He couldn’t have taken his eyes off of the screen if he wanted to, as the perp turned to the side. The massive arms dropped casually to his sides, and the crushed torso slumped, but still clung goo-like to granite pecs shaped like Atlas stones that now filled the vic’s ribcage where vital organs once pulsed. A pec bounce jiggled the deformed corpse like a macabre marionette, which the perp found amusing. “HUH-HUH-HUH.” His lewd, rumbly chuckle reached out to Carnitas’ bloated prick and blasted the cum out of it like toothpaste from a tube crushed by a fist. Another pec bounce loosened the vacuum of the vic’s collapsed lungs and the sodden necrotic mess slid to the floor. As those insanely pumped, veiny boulder pecs approached the camera, the perp wiped the victim’s blood from their curvature, revealing a massive chest-and-abs tatt that penetrated the bodybuilder cop’s brain like an ice pick: GONNA POP U BITCH Carnitas blacked out as he heard the perp’s final words: “WHO’S NEXT?”
  3. hptycoon49

    Dorm Alpha [Part II Added 2/4]

    This story has been a scene I've had in my head for a long time. My plan is to make this a series. I hope you all like it. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Dorm Alpha: Part 1 Alex’s eyes snapped open, it was dark in the dorm room except for the light from his digital clock on the bedside table showing 3am. Something was tickling his chest. He looked down but his view was obscured by two giant rock-solid mounds of hair and muscle. The sensation continued, tingles shot from his nipple down his torso. Alex sat upward, the two side-by-side twin mattresses he slept on creaked as he adjusted his bulk. As he sat up, he found the “something” tickling his nipple was his puny roommate Peter, suckling desperately on his muscle tit. Alex pushed him off roughly and he fell to the floor. “Fuck off Pete!” Alex hissed. Peter sat on the floor jerking his cock, staring up at his gargantuan roommate. Eyes wild with lust. Alex looked to the other side of the dorm where a pile of several other college boys slept soundly on the floor. He’d long ago claimed the second bed for himself. He smiled as flashes of the previous evening’s fuckfest and worship session replayed through his mind. Suddenly, Alex realized he needed to take a piss. He got up, as he did so he roughly pushed past Pete still jerking his dick. Then he ducked to exit the dorm room and went down the hall and into the bathroom butt-naked. Alex sidled up next to a urinal, lifted his python and let loose a torrent of hot piss. Relieved, Alex walked to the sink and took a look at himself in the mirror. “Fuck” he blurted out. Then a shit-eating grin spread across his face. Even he was still blown away by the body before him. Nearly 7 feet tall, 350 lbs, ripped to shreds and covered from the chest down in thick, dark hair. Alex was a sight to behold. He lifted his arms above his head, smashing his biceps into his ears as he did so, relishing in his obscene size and muscularity. Alex sucked in his stomach and crunched down his abs. Eight enormous, deeply etched bricks framed with sharp obliques like fingers accentuated an almost comically tight waist. He held this position, flexing hard and watching thick gnarled veins surface across his torso, clearly visible even through the thick layer of body hair. Alex then slowly and gracefully lowered his arms into a double biceps pose, flaring his lats out wider and wider, making him look like a fuckin Dorito. Shoulders the size of watermelons literally burst from his body. Each head of muscle, etched deep and thick, even without a pump. As Alex’s eyes swept across the mirror, drinking in his gargantuan frame, his cock, which had been resting heavily on the bathroom counter began to fill with blood. Alex’s eyes, which had been focused on his meaty-as-all-fuck traps looked down at his cock as it lengthened along the bathroom counter approaching the sink faucet. Seventeen, eighteen inches perhaps? At some point he had just stopped measuring. It’s grown every day since he started college. Since he started eating and lifting like a beast. Alex smirked as his cock finally reached its final length, four inches from the backsplash. “Guess I have a new goal” he thought to himself. Just then, he heard the sound of a toilet flushing and the door to the stall behind him opened up. Without ever turning around, or indeed, dropping his double bicep pose, Alex called to the little runt exiting the stall. “Hey Brett-y. Wanna feel some muscle?” The kid froze like a deer in headlights. Brett lived at the other end of the hall. Quiet guy, kept to himself. Probably didn't weigh more than 150 lbs wet. Alex dropped his arms. Letting them relax against his sides. His lats pushed his arms out to 45 degrees. “Come here Brett-y, don’t be shy. I want you to feel my glutes. I’ve really been focusing on them lately.” Alex flexed his glute muscles with perfect control making the feathered muscles twitch up and down. Brett inched up to Alex, trembling head to foot. His head only reaching the small of Alex’s back. All the while Alex had remained facing the mirror, staring at himself. His body was so large that as Brett stepped closer he was entirely obscured by muscle. Because of Alex's height, Brett had to put his hands out at eye level to touch his ass. He squeaked when his hands felt the hot, hard as iron muscle in front of him. The smell was overwhelming, intoxicating. It made Brett's head spin and very quickly he began cleaning Alex's ass with his tongue. Drinking it in. The feeling of Brett’s tongue probing his ass cheeks caused Alex's giant member to stiffen even more if possible. He brought his left arm back up high and began to worship his own bicep. Alex flexed hard, the bulging ball of muscle pumped bigger and bigger. Alex watched himself in the mirror as his thick powerful tongue licked the titanic bicep tracing the powerful veins on his left arm. Alex grabbed hold of his monstrous cock with the other arm, all the while Brett's tongue probed deeper and deeper. Alex pressed his huge, beefy, calloused hand on top of his dick, pinning it down to the sink counter. He then began grinding his monstrous cock back and forth, relishing in how his hands, huge as they were, looked tiny in comparison to his giant dick. “Deeper Brett. Really get in there” Alex growled. Brett could only moan with pleasure at being surrounded by so much hot muscle. He pushed his head in deeper and Alex relaxed his glutes allowing Brett access to his hole. Alex could have crushed Brett’s skull with a single flex and he knew it. It would be all too easy to snuff out his life. Alex puffed out his chest. The slabs of meat pushed outward, the thick hair on his pecs tickled Alex’s chin. He was a fuckin stud, the ultimate alpha. No one past, present or future who ever lived in this dorm would ever approach his level of superiority and he was only 19. Had only started growing a year ago. He never stopped thinking about growth. Food, Muscle, and Sex was all he ever thought about. With that he let go of his monstrous dick. His cock swung upwards like a baseball bat smashing into his enormous pec cleavage. Alex flexed his pecs along his dick, the hair and muscle stimulating the red-hot iron rod. With Brett’s tongue still stimulating his hole, Alex raised his arms up one last time, flexing every part of his body, expanding in every direction. It was too much. The muscle drove him mad and cock convulsed firing thick college boy spunk onto the ceiling. Alex grabbed his cock, still spewing jizz and aimed it at the bathroom sink. He watched enthralled as his mammoth alpha cock filled the sink nearly halfway up with cum. So thick it didn't drain down. “Fuck Brett, look at that” Alex said. “I'm such a fucking stud! That's more cum than the whole football team jizzes in a month I bet!.... Brett?” Brett was on the floor, dazed from his own epic orgasm being surrounded by Alex's beefy hairy glutes. Alex scooped up Brett like a ragdoll and carried him out to the common area where he deposited him on the couch. Alex went back to his room, opened the door, ducked and went inside. Puney Pete was still sitting on the floor leaning against Alex's bed snoring loudly, hand still on his dick. As Alex got into bed he purposely slapped Pete's face with his weighty flaccid dick. Alex chuckled to himself. Just a few hours till breakfast he thought. With that, the Alex drifted off to sleep. He had a big day tomorrow. In fact, everyday was big and getting bigger.
  4. dreamboy

    The Gym Janitor Final Chaoter

    I wanna preface this by saying that I apologize for taking so long to wrap this story up. It has been months! But life happens and the groove of things gets lost. Hopefully, this is a satisfying ending. Brace yourselves because this is a very long final chapter. Enjoy! *** “Open.” My lips parted like the red sea. Eagerly vacant and ready to eat just like a baby bird with its mother. Everything was running in slow motion. My eyes darted toward master’s pouted lips gunning a wad of saliva. Drip by drip, his essence glazed down my tongue, through my hole, tickling my uvula softly. “Good bitch!” he growled. His beastly hand gripped my jaw tightly and then took off before smacking my cheek. Many would find discomfort in this, but being with him inverted my nerves, what would cause me pain, suddenly shot down my spine and straight to my cock. The rubbing of his leather suit as he walked me on all fours to his couch echoed, reminiscing about our first encounter in the echoey locker room. He plopped himself across the couch. Pulling at the belt, drawing my head near him. His hot breath steamed my face, smelling of fresh mint. “You’ve wanted this for a while huh?” he whispered. I nodded. I dreaded working the night shift ever since Kyle began scheduling me for it. Every second in what was supposed to be the place where your mind clears out all of the terrible things was a place where I desired to end it all. The night that master set foot on that gym floor, I knew I was supposed to work the night shift for a reason. Where I thought I was working in the bane of my existence delivered to me the sole reason I existed. To serve. To surrender. To become nothing. To become my master’s nothing. “Say it,” he gripped the belt tighter. “Yes.” I gulped. “Yes what?” he barked “Yes- master” I gasped. He forced my head in the direction of his boots. “The best worship starts at the base,” he released his grasp from the belt loosely giving me enough distance to crawl to the other end of his 6-foot frame. My paws were caressing the bulky boots’ laces. Inches away, the strong familiar odor marinated around them. A small part of my brain tickled me pink from the bliss. “Take that dirty boot off you cunt!” master ordered. I swiftly removed the boot and pressed the entry against my snout. A deep inhale permeated my lungs like that first sip of ice water you take after waking up. “Without me even having to tell you,” master snarked, “there’s a good girl.” His calling me “girl” made my hole pulsate. I fixed my eyes on his bare feet. “Just for you,” he wiggled his toes, “I wore no socks the entire day at work.” I moaned at the sight of his sweaty, linty, feet. “Dig in,” he growled. My mouth engulfed his big toe like it was the head of a cock in one slurp. My tongue was sandwiched by his other toes as I slobbered. “Fuuuuuuck yea babe,” he moaned, “just like that. Who’s my good girl?” “Me master,” I spoke. “That’s for fucking sure. How do you like that taste, live up to your expectations?” he asked knowingly. “Its taste is unlocking new tastebuds I never knew I had, I am in ecstasy master,” I moaned. “Of course you are, and what do we say to master?” he asked. “Thank you,” I whimpered. “That’s right,” he leaned back and cupped his bulge, “you keep sucking and I might let you suck something else.” My oral skills were tested, but despite how tiring it can be, my comfort was sacrificed at the expense of his relaxation. My tongue and saliva can even go hours on end until it turns into beef jerky just so he can be satisfied. His sweaty feet pressed against my cheek, draping me in master’s scent. Minutes flew by. “Stop,” he commanded as he stood up from the couch. My leash tightened as he walked us into his bedroom. The door croaked open to expose the golden dome of the master bedroom. The penthouse suite. Fit for a king. “I am impressed,” he glanced, “not a single speck of dust even in the remote to my television, all of my files stacked neatly, my bedsheets practically ironed against the mattress. Open up.” His spit fired inches above my mouth, but before I could swallow, his lips pressed against mine. Was this happening right now? Did Master reward me with a kiss? “Again.” Again. “Swallow.” Swallow. “You liked that?” He beamed. “Yes, master.” “No bitch,” he cackled, “remember the term.” “Yes Daddy,” I gooned. “Good bitch,” he grinned. “Get up here.” He yanked my leash with brute force and my face was met with the crevice of his pit in a split second. The bush tickled my face and slipped into my nostrils completely fumigating my cranium. The smell of new like the smell of brand-new shoes blended in with expensive cologne and musky sweat. Delirium. “Lick that shit bitch!” My tired tongue brushed its surface with Daddy’s armpit hairs. His damp surface hydrated my drying tongue oh so slightly, but just enough to drive me to keep going. Eventually, I trailed my lather towards his nipple. His pec shelf enveloped me with sweat on his chest. “Hell yeah,” Daddy moaned, “you ready?” Without a second thought, he held my skull like a bowl and squeezed me into himself. The tip of my nose touched the base of his skin and my breathing lacked. Both ends of my cheeks hid in the middle of his suffocating bosom. I tapped his shoulder three times for him to release his grasp on me. “You’re at my mercy,” he huffed, “but don’t worry babe I’ll take care of you. I know when to let you breathe. Appreciate the mere fact that you’re getting to do this. Imagine the long line of closeted subs who just gawk at me from afar at the gym. But not you huh bitch? You had the guts to own up to it. To own up to your place beneath me. That’s my good bitch. That’s the sub that deserves to be suffocated by my pecs. A sub that gets to worship me!” A loud growl erupted from his lips as he let go of me. I let out a deep heavy sigh of pleasure. The pain of the pressure is molding me into his jewel for him to flaunt. Just like the rest of his golden throne and life of luxury, another piece of property manifests itself into the sub that I am becoming. Something he owns that he prides himself in. “Fuck yeah boy c’mere,” he growled. Our lips interfaced, violent wrestling against each other, but he reigns first. His tongue pierced inside my mouth filling the cavity and swirling inside. The sensation was so surreal my cock immediately ruptured with cum. My entire body twitched as he kept kissing me. Large strips of cum shot against Daddy’s hairy torso. His hand caressed my nipple triggering an even more euphoric sensation that made me ejaculate more. “You were supposed to wait for my command,” he chuckled, “but knowing THAT’S the power I hold over you is getting me bricked.” He undid his pants to reveal the gargantuan cock underneath. The massive Pringles can likeness of cock swung between us, dwarfing my leaking clit. “My turn,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’ll work you through it, but you WILL reach the base of my cock.” I assumed the position on all fours meeting at eye level with his cock. Already leaking precum, like a lollipop I engulfed the head. The back of my mouth bobbs up and down as he thrusts his hips in unison. “Fuck yeah baby,” he moaned, “suck it like it’s the air you breathe.” His comments inspired me to throat him more. My gag reflex was fighting demons as I furthered his shaft down my throat. The reflex won over as his tip scratched the top of my throat. “Fuck you suck it so good,” Daddy panted, “you suck better than any bitch I’ve had before. DAMN! Look at you, a cock starved whore! That’s a good girl!” With his member still in me I moaned as if my G-spot was in my throat. In and out he slid, a rhythm not even the world’s most renowned musicians could replicate. The gagging mixed with the slobbering all to the beat of my master’s panting. The face fuck of a lifetime. “Oh keep sucking it just like that,” he stroked his hips back and forth faster. My airways sealed but I couldn't care less. A hardwired lust grew tender within me. My gag reflex began to dissipate as every inch penetrated my hole. The edges of my lips lubricated in saliva and snot. The musky ball sweat imprinted across my skin. “You ready boy?” He shouted. “Open that fucking throat. ARGHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUCK.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head as each shot pulsated and traversed down my throat. And the base of his cock kissed my lips. “Swallow it all!” He barked. “Don’t you dare waste a drop!” And swallow it I did. The sea salt kettle corn flavor of his buttery cum immersed the pores of my tongue. The most addicting substance of all. “Finally,” I sighed. “Haha!” Daddy cackled. “How was it, boy?” “Purposeful,” I began, “like a piece of me was missing.” “I am that missing piece,” he huffed, “nothing will ever feel as good as serving your master, will it boy?” “No Daddy,” I bit my lip. “Your mind is mine,” he growled, “your clit is mine, your holes are mine, but above it all…” He leans forward and kisses me. “You are mine.” He smirked. “Understood?” “Yes sir!” I said. “You only respond to me from now on,” he said sternly, “quit your job. Fuck Kyle. His piece of shit gym does not deserve someone as attentive as you. I’ll take care of you from this moment forward.” His beastly hand caressed my cheek ever so softly. My eyes watered with joy as I realized how blissful it is to serve. To devote every fiber of my being to him. To abide by what he says cause in the end, I gain a lifetime of exploring his psyche, his desires, and his strength. “Or does that not sound promising enough?” he asked knowingly. “Yes,” I chuckled, “I am yours. I answer to you alone master. No matter the odds. I'm just taken aback by how I kept sniffing your sweaty rag a few days ago, to getting the privilege of you cumming in me all within a week!” “That’s a good boy,” he winked, “it is a privilege, but this is just the beginning.” He smacked my ass and nudged me towards the restroom. “Let’s get ya’ cleaned up.” The End
  5. QuoteTheRaven

    Simb Bakkani Super Heavyweight (Completed)

    Mossano inherited Muscle Pride Rock Gym in Bangkok. He became an IFBB Pro, then Mr. Thailand, and then opened Muscle Pride Rock Gym 2. At 21, Simb was born. Muscle Pride Rock Gym sang with celebration. Patrons — thin and lithe to well-muscled hunks in string tanks and hoodies — gathered around he and his wife Sarai. Mossano’s pharmacological coach held Simb aloft. The gym speakers played joyous music filled with rhythms and flutes. As a kid, Simb spent his time running around Muscle Pride Rock with his best friend Naylon. Everyone knew them. All treated them with joy. Simb had no thoughts about his place in the world. CHAPTER ONE — BETRAYAL Now, on a day in Simb’s eighteenth year, Simb and Naylon lounge near the juice bar. As they lounge, Simb’s Uncle Scarab shows up. Scarab is seven years older than Simb, and devotedly bodybuilds. He is outwardly obsequious toward Simb while also giving off a resentful vibe. Simb thinks that’s the way for uncles on diets, restrictions, and heavy lifting schedules. Scarab talks to the teens. He asks them what kind of music they like. When they mention a local group, he tells them it’s a huge coincidence that that group is playing at a place called Parrot Bar. He says he has passes to that bar and that they can see their favorite band if they leave to go now. The guys can’t believe the coincidence and want to go and so they do. The whole thing is a lie. When they get there, instead of saying Parrot Bar it says Parrot Gay Bar. This gives pause, only because they are not into sexual things yet. But they want to see the band. Inside, there is no band. Instead two twenty year old hoodlums pay attention to them. The hoodlums are so skinny ribs show through their tees. They are as heavy-headed as hyenas with open-hanging mouths. “We are Shen and Ban,” the jackally two snigger, “You are the son of the best muscle man in Thailand aren’t you? We recognize you. Are you here because?…. because you like sex with males, no?” Simb and Naylon feel uneasy, more uneasy even than from the dancers grinding crotch-packed near-naked muscles. Simb and Naylon try to pretend they are cool as it is important to accept all people. That is what Mossano and Simb’s mother Sarai always teach. The manager at the Parrot Gay Bar notices the youth and suspects something is amiss. He calls the MRP Gym and the manager, Zazar, answers. Zazar, who is homosexual himself and expressive in his personality, flaps off to tell Mossano right away. Mossano goes to the bar and rescues the boys. Mossano is upset with Simb for going to a drinking place and one that focuses on any kind of sex. He scolds Simb and Simb feels bad about his judgment. But Mossano forgives Simb. Mossano also explains to Simb that some of Mossano’s best friends are gay. He adds, “with the genetics you have from me and mom, I want you to end up my size and condition. If you do as I do, eating, the heavy iron lifting, the gear.” Mossano continues, “What I want to say is when you grow up and become as I am, you will play a special role — pedestaled by men and women, wanted by all.” Simb says ok. He doesn’t know what that all means or whether he wants that. He’s still a kid. Drives can be dormant until nature fully spigots testosterone and awakens a man to his real wants. However, meanwhile, during Mossano and Simb’s conversation, Scarab has found the 20-year-old shady fag beanpoles. You might think he is there to berate them and force them to understand more about what is appropriate with people of different ages. But Scarab has a nefarious character and only self-serving purposes in mind. He has designs — designs of no longer being lesser in his brother’s shadow, to usurping his brother’s titles, to gaining his brother’s businesses and all that his brother has. As part of his plan to do that, he makes an overture to the youth Shen and Ban. He will freely service them at MRP Gym. But they must help frame Mossano for a crime. The two are alarmed at the idea of doing something of the kind. But then they feel Scarab’s enlarged biceps that rise as balls, hard as rock. Scarab talks dominant fetished stuff about how swollen his pecs are, how his ass jacks and how intensely good he feels. He tells them he must grow bigger, dominating little fucks, that he’ll make his brother seem fucking small. He wants to transform the two weasels too. He thinks they could all fuck each other as big muscle men. The two hypnotized fags both are almost orgasming as he makes their dicks so hard with his dreams. They agree to help Scarab. In the setup to the framing scam, Scarab goes to Simb the next week. Scarab dishonestly tells Simb that Mossano wants Simb to take a package of steroids (legal in Thailand) to the other branch of the gym. Simb is only 18 and never been given a task like this before so he is uncertain at first. But Scarab is convincing. Simb heads out in the streets with the messenger bag unaware. What it really contains is cocaine, heroine and drugs heavily punishable even for someone his age to possess. As soon as Simb has left, Scarab gathers up Shen and Ban and they go to Mossano. Scarab acts as though he’s collared the gay twenty year olds, physically showing his superiority to the pimpled scarecrows, manhandling them with true get-off brawn, and acting as though he’s threatening them and forcing them to confess what they will say. They almost give the whole thing away because Mossano’s muscles are so beautiful. His abs rise and fall, coil and fold as he talks. They have never seen the great Mossano, champion of all of Thailand and seventh place finisher in the Olympia of the world. Mossano is bigger than they imagined a person could be. They’ve never seen someone of such impossibly increased size — shoulders that mountain and arm girth 20+ inches around. In front of the steroid-massed giant, scrawny little undeveloped Shen and Ban suddenly stiff solid ones in their pants. But Mossano is so familiar and used to that kind of thing that it doesn’t register as a warning flag. Shen and Ban tell Mossano, as though confessing, that they have given Simb an illegal package, using Simb as an unsuspecting mule. But, they explain, he has to be “saved” for they’ve heard a police trap is set for the other gym. Mossano is furious. He will charge to help his son. He roars at the scum that have come to him. Scarab sneers and growls at the scum too. He enjoys the chance to act vile towards anyone, even his own accomplices — getting a charge always to be superior where he can be. He holds each of the guys hands behind their respective backs, lusty with the comprehension that he literally has the physical power to restrain them simultaneously each with a single fist. The muscles in Scarab’s shoulders flex in displaying expression as he shifts to subtle poses — pose after pose — while he holds them. Scarab then says aloud to Mossano, “Have no fear, brother, these two drug dealers will join us and I will force them to play their role.” Then Scarab smiles with a truly carnivorous look. His traps pop definitionally around his neck. Mossano says “good.” And then before they leave MRP GYM, he gives the keys for both gyms plus the code for the wall safe to Scarab. Mossano says, “I’ve never given these to you before, but I’m not sure how long resolving this will take at the other gym, and at the police station, and in the court…. Plus I have to see about getting these two young drug runners into some kind of reform. It’s best that someone in good trust has control until I am back.” Scarab thinks quickly, “Can you text that quickly to my phone as well?” he says slyly, “In case it does take you a long time and anyone asks if you left me in charge.” Mossano suspecting nothing, sends the text. They thunder across town as a group on motorbikes. Heads whip tracking the massbeast of Mossano hulking upon his machine. The pure masculinity of such massive muscularity has those passed by gaping. As they go, Mossano doesn’t spot Simb anywhere. As they near MRP II Gym, his concern grows. When they get to MRPII Gym, they still haven’t found Simb. They head across the parking lot, Mossano in the lead. Scarab falls purposefully behind. Scarab pulls the two scum surreptitiously aside and tells them in a quick, low sinister growl “Get lost. I will take it from here.” He pulls one of their heads into his juiced pecs and lets the pup nuzzle there briefly in the Dianabol-responsible cleft, even allowing him to lick quickly and wantingly at his nipple. Scarab whispers, “This is nothing, you fag. I’m going to have you tit fuck mountainous monster pecs that are inhuman when I’m 100 pounds bigger and more dominant than a god.” Then he gives the guy a command, “make sure that sniveling little boy Simb… never comes around MRP Gyms again.” Scarab races after Mossano and catches up just past the door. Inside, there are seven cops. Eighteen year old Simb is in their grasp. Simb is so young and fragile —flustered, lanky, rattled, distressed. The currier bag sits emptied of its illegal contents on the counter. The head cop, a commissioner, turns and says to those arriving, “This is tremendously serious. This delinquent will be going to jail for a long time.” Mossano does not recognize that the scum have not come in. He says, “No no, once you have the explanation of who is really responsible you will let him go.” The commissioner says, “Yes if we are given another responsible we will let this one go.” He says this because earlier the two scum had come to the police station claiming to be informants who could help them capture Mr Thailand who they said had been behind illegal drug running for a long time. The police officers on duty had all chorused, “THE Mr. Thailand? Mossano Bakkani? He who has a vee taper to a thirty two inch waist and weighs 278 pounds with arms that are 21 inches around?” Each officer knew the most famous muscular body in Thailand. So famous no one else had a fraction of the same public recognition. It is ubiquitous what the hypersexual, hypermighted silhouette of Mossano Bakkani looks like. All those overly male police officers are familiar with how the small posers of the king lounge over his ass and wrap atop his horse cock. “Yes,” the scum had said, “that is the one.” The pulse rates of those officers back at the station had gone up at even the mention of a man so self-endowed and huge. Now here in front of many of those officers, is the actual Mr Thailand. He is a man who simply can’t be real. His shoulders simply stretch too far and aloft from his neck. His torso circles at every level with immeasurability. He is too rockishly dense, too cord-thewed, and too beefily enlarged. He has muscles with more muscles on top. Mossano turns like an aircraft carrier, his legs like temple columns. He looks to have the scum confess but sees Scarab standing all alone in his stringer with his little roid-hungry physique on display. “They got away,” mouths Scarab syrupy and with what he hopes looks like a pained shrug. “Why are you looking around?,” the commissioner says to Mossano, “why don’t you just tell us the truth so that your son here can be let go?” Mossano sees the situation and walks to Scarab. His championship bodybuilder body imposes in on Scarab. Mossano’s monumental excess presses predatorily over Scarab’s lesser swole. Mossano whispers to Scarab, “I am going to explain to the officers that this crime was really done by the two drug runners. You will back me up, right?” he says warningly, “I need to know.” Scarab whispers back, “I don’t know what you are talking about. If you insist on such stories you are probably sending your son to a certain long time in jail.” “That would be a very unfatherly thing to do,” Scarab adds in a cold purr. Mossano understands now that he has been betrayed but must save his son. He turns to the commissioner and says, “It was not my son, it was me. I lied to him about what was in the bag and told him they were legal anabolic drugs.” The cops descend on Mossano and handcuff him. He is as powerful as Hercules. Reflexive at being confined, he explodes open the chains. He swings his enormous guns. Officers bowl over backward in every direction. The police ogle from the floor, all truly in awe. He is definitively the greatest and one of the most massive men that has ever been in Thailand and currently is one of the top ten most muscular men in the entire world. The commissioner says, “we will handcuff you again, and If you do not cooperate we will also take the boy.” Mossano turns to look at Scarab. He flexes his might body into a double bicep pose and snorts and growls. He is 40% bigger than Scarab. His torso heaves. His legs thunder with their gargantuan magnitude. It is imposing to behold. But then Mossano submits to the handcuffing and is taken from the gym. As soon as they leave, Simb runs crying to his uncle. “This can’t be! We have to help get my dad free.” Scarab puts his fists on his hips and raises his chest and shoulders inflating and flexing the mass he has even as it pales to what his older brother just showed. He is going to change that now. He knows he‘s going to grow so much much much bigger than he’s been. He’s the one who will use Mossano’s drugs and money and resources now. The world will see what truly wild use of all three can really do. He won’t restrain himself in any temperate way he thinks his brother has. He looks at the weak boy and seethes, “You incompetent weakling! You did this! Your father has been dealing like this for years and never gotten in trouble. It was the source of all his ability to pretend who he was and gain the mass and might that won him awards. You have ruined it and have sent him to jail. I will bring you back to the gym now and tell everyone what you have done. They love your father there.” Scarab is in full sleazy condescension now and continues, “You will have destroyed him and yourself in their eyes. But maybe if you disappear I can save his reputation and explain it was you. His imprisonment will be forever on your pathetic thin puny weak girlie shoulders but at least the love and reverence of his people can be preserved and you won’t destroy that love.” It is lies all lies, but Scarab is filled with festering wile and narcissistic need. Simb sputters. The tears flow. His breathing comes in racking sporadic gasps. He has a scrawny body and is gangly tall. But, mostly in that moment he is just a bereft son, almost a little boy. The moaning continues as he says, “But…. I didn’t mean…. It was all an…… I can’t leave my mother…. Can’t leave Naylon…” Scarab turns from the boy, bored. He has eyes in the mirror then only for himself. He pulls his stringer down low and pushes his workout pants off his bunched underwear. He admires his torso lean though it is, as defined as it is. And his arms and legs. Yes. He is defined. And has muscular definition. But he will grow grotesquely massive now. Sickly so. And then even far more disgustingly when he wants. Thailand is to have a true new bodybuilding emperor. One taller and more unrestrained in becoming as impossibly gargantuan as he can. He anticipates tapering to an even crazier narrow vee — he’s always had the blessing of narrower wolf hips than Mossano’s hasn’t he. And shoulder skelature just a little broader naturally. He knows in his gut his genetics hold that in store. God he wants to hulk and pose. “This is all your fault,” Scarab says firmly again to Simb not bothering even to turn around. Simb’s blubbering peters out until finally Simb simply sniffles, “Yes, I will go.” Simb gathers his wallet and comb from the counter. The police say Simb has to go to protective services until they can sort things out about his home. Two of the officers leave with Simb in tow. Scarab is alone with the commissioner now. The commissioner is in his mid-50s. He looks like he lifted a weight or two in his glory days. Just the kind of “straight” authority figure who looks susceptible to a transaction he-man to he-man. The commissioner tells the other officers they can leave. Once the gray-haired commissioner is the only remaining official, Scarab leads him to the gym’s office and closes the door. Scarab looks at the older man’s height of about 5’9”. “I thought I might be able to tell you a little bit about my nephew’s home.” Scarab says low and hard. “That would be completely appropriate to know,” says the commissioner. “I don’t like to say this about Mossano because he is my brother,” hisses Scarab, “but his wife and he can’t stay clean.” “Is that right,” says the commissioner, “Heroine and Cocaine?” “Yes?… Yes, of course. Those two drugs and so many more….you should think of them as using whatever would keep a couple permanently in jail, would keep a teenage son from returning home.” Scarab leans back on the edge of the desk. His legs splay in the loose-crotched fitness pants but he knows his thighs are developed enough and muscular enough for the dominant twenty five year old that he is. He balls his hands into fists and slowly raises them up in front of himself as though doing a preacher lift. His biceps curl into 17.75” swells. He eyes the commissioner and then each veiny bi in turn. And then he eyes the commissioner once again. The commissioner says, “Of course, we’d need to be doing blood screenings of Mr and Mrs Bakkani to confirm what you say is true.” “Tests of their blood you say?” says Scarab. Scarab slowly swings his left fist from where it is curled in front out to the side and then up. His right fist mimics it next. He is widening his lats until they show they are suggestive of small barn doors. His shoulders mount into miniature boulders. “Is the use of a blood test very necessary?” Scarab coos. “It is,” says the commissioner — he is tough in some ways, experienced at the way of the world. Scarab is not concerned. He is certain he can get his way. That’s all that matters. He doesn’t care what he does. He says to the commissioner, “I have a session to practice my posing in a few minutes. I’ll only be ready if I change as we talk. You understand that don’t you?” “Yes. Of course. We all have schedules.” “I take off my stringer first, don’t you agree?” “No, preparing to pose, one would take off their training pants first. Isn’t that right?” “Oh yes,” says Scarab, “You are completely correct.” Scarab pushes the pants down to his ankles. He wriggles each foot free. The pants get kicked to the side and he stands there in just his oversized boxer underwear. “You see, I work out,” Scarab says. He splays his legs. Individual cords of muscle rope atop his twenty nine and a half inch thighs rising and falling. “Hmmhum,” says the commissioner. Scarab crosses his hands to the front hem of his stringer. He lifts it over his head and off. He lets it dangle from the fingers of his left hand before dropping it to the floor. He stands in “relaxed pose”. His pecs cast the shadow of someone who’s cycled a number of times. His nipples are dark brown. “I workout lifting weights,” Scarab says looking slowly at each of his body parts in a choreographed show. “You know resistance exercise is an important path to virility, to being more and more strong, to making a true man, to being desired. Resistance exercises make a man’s muscles toned.” The commissioner says, “Very important” “Of course I don’t just keep my muscle toned do I?” says Scarab. “No.” “That may be the way of some, right?” Scarab says. “Yes.” “But that’s not mine, is it?” Scarab says. He steps forward. He’s about eight feet from the lawman. He pulls up the bottom hems of the boxers and shows his thighs more fully. They are rippling and corded. Then he smiles cruelly and pushes the boxers down and free from his legs, discarding the boxers atop the rest of his clothes. The commissioner looks at Scarab’s groin. “No, I don’t like that. You should turn around.” The commissioner hasn’t liked the undersized penis or the absent balls. Scarab turns and the Commissioner looks at the young pterodactyl back. It’s veined and knotted. Below, the ass fills beautifully. The sphincter chasm holds like a sculpted gate. The commissioner sees a bin of posers on a shelf. He pulls an especially skimpy neon orange one from the top. He throws it against the muscle back that Scarab has. “You have posing practice,” the commissioner says, “oughtn’t you put that on?” Scarab bends and reaches behind. His asshole opens. His hamstrings look like cuts flayed of skin. Scarab puts one foot into a tiny leg hole and then switches to put his other foot in the other. He drags the stretching fabric up over the maple tree trunks of his legs. He shimmies the poser onto his ass and snaps it into place. The fabric expands. The waistband threads over and around his sculpted hips. The stretching is barely scanty. The leg hems climb the freshness of his thighs and curve away past his hips toward his front. Scarab turns and his penis is now vacuumed up into a miniature but meated blatantly outlined mound. “Better?” Scarab asks. “Yes,” the commissioner replies. Scarab takes another three steps toward the commissioner. “I believe you may have had some experience ‘working out’,” Scarab says. “Yes,” comes the commissioner’s reply. “But you are nothing compared to me, Right?” Scarab asks. “Yes.” Scarab tightens into a most muscular and then inflates to an impressing double biceps, lats flared and legs on display. “I’m big aren’t I?” he says. “Yes. Yes you are.” Scarab is forcing his displaying arm in the worshipper’s face. “I’m only going to get bigger.” He snorts as he goes to a back flare. “Can you imagine that?” Scarab brags. He flows to a right side bicep pose and a left after that. “Yes. oh. Yes you are.” “Can you conceive how I feel?” Scarab drawls, stomping his left foot to explode his thigh, “Conceive how I will feel?” The commissioner says, “uurrr.” Scarab swings his left foot forward and then his right. His thighs already wobble some with weight. The flesh on them echoes to a stop after each step. He approaches the commissioner moving a juvenile bull’s size with each slow step. He brings his porny-ness right to the commissioner’s face. His lips are inches from the commissioner’s eyes. “Do you have any conception of how dripping this all is? Do you? Of how I feel? Of what it is to be endowed this way? Do You?” His breath oozes masculinity. The commissioner responds. Perhaps it is a “no” but more it is hard to tell and just sounds like a moan. Scarab says, “I don’t think there needs to be any bloodwork to know that Mossano and Sarai have been using the illicit cocaine, heroine and meth that they have polluted our city with, do you?” And the commissioner pulls himself together and says clearly, “No.” And then Scarab puts his tongue in the commissioner’s throat and moves the commissioner’s hands onto his rock hard sexualized body. “Fondle, Lick, Worship, Enjoy, you puny fucker,” croaks Scarab, “don’t even think about the fact that you will have to deal with me after I’ve executed my plan to get 70% more huge — you’d probably like that wouldn’t you, you fuck? A dom that massive? muscle that grotesque and obscene bearing down on you? Dominating you? Making you a fucking fuck toy? You’re such a pansy, puny fag man. It’s my pleasure to fully destroy fuck drip like you.”
  6. Hello, I had this story(part of the story) in ma head for long time so I started it to try out how things will evolve. Every feedback will be appreciated! Hi, honey how was your day? Asked Jake sitting on couch drinking tea. Name: Jake Age: 26 Height:5´10 (178cm) Body type: Slim fit Weight: 167lbs (76 kg) Cock: 6,7 inches (17cm) I guess OK, long boring day, not many clients today. Answered Ty walking to Jake and kissing him on forehead. Name: Tyler Age: 27 Height:5´7 (172cm) Body type: Build fat??? Weight: 209lbs (95 kg) Cock: 5,5 inches (14cm) “But I got something that I hope you would like...no love”: and showed Jake a silverish steel briefcase with yellow logo which said: Modify yourself “No way! How did you get that? And whole package? How many of it its inside?” "7! And ready for use!": Tyler opened the briefcase and revealed 7 syringes inside with shimmering purple liquid inside them. They looked different than normal ones. No piston to push and needle was only 0,2 inch (0,5 cm). “So where you want them, Ty? You know well I don’t have problem to stick anything into you. Big grin formed on Jakes face.” “Funny, and I would normally just go with try and error but I don’t want to look like a freak so we should check the manual.” Under the syringe was paper manual, Tyler took it out, but Jake elegantly took it from Ty’s hand. "By the look of it you will need most of them just to look normal.... If normal means big. You need one syringe for each arm and leg + torso with that you are left only with 2. Wow that’s lame..." "Give me that! And what do you mean lame? I’m happy I got my hands on it! Let me see what the options for rest of the 2 syringes are.” Cock (Increase cock size) Balls (Increase balls/cock size + libido) Pecs (Increase size) Ass (Increase size) Head (Increase IQ/EQ) DISCLAMER! - Intensity of change varies from human to human “Hmmmmm....soooo......what you want to get "EDDITED" Ty?” “You don’t like me how I’m now Jacob?” “Boo hoo, poor Tyler, we both know you didn’t buy that stuff for me. Sooo? With what should we start?” “Ok, take out the syringes out Jacob, I go change into something more suitable and looser, so I won’t suffocate.” “What? NO no no no no.... not happening. You come here only in your boxers.” “Hahahah, fine just give me a second.” When Tyler came back into the living room 5 syringes were already laid out on the table. “Why only 5? What you did you do with the rest Jacob?” “Chill out would you? I’m keeping them safe for later, in manual it says, even if you are using syringes for example arms, the rest may potentially grow too a little so those two will be used tomorrow if needed to. Since this is first batch, it will take time to fully develop. It says 2-3 hours and we are going to use 5 at once so let’s not overdo it.” “So what are you waiting for? Shove them in me!!” “With pleasure.” Jake took syringe after syringe and used them for arms legs and torso as recommended. “So how do you feel? Do you feel anything?” “No, not at all, but they said it will take a while so what are we going to do now?” “Ty, you are too impatient. Let’s watch movie, time will fly by faster. You are not only one impatient in this situation and you are not helping. Do you want something to drink?” “Yes, can you bring me cup of coffee?” “Suure.... but coffee for evening? Will you be able to sleep at night?” “Well, its Friday and we just used body modifying serum, so I hope we are not just going to sleep tonight.” "Right.": Jakes face was red and on fire. He loved when Tyler was like this. Since he was more introverted than Tyler, he often felt his voice drowned by Tylers. Jake placed both cups on the coffee table, covered his lower half with blanket and same did for Ty. Jake leaned on Ty shoulder. Didn’t take long and bot fell asleep. ===================================================Part 2================================================== Jake woke up to getting suffocated. He had to slid lower during sleep, so his face was under Ty hand. Still dizzy, he got up and took both cups. They were cold, he went into the kitchen and pour it out into the sink. ** “What a waste of good coffee.” He looked at the clock. 21:26. Didn’t Ty used the syringes at 17:30. It was almost 3 hours since then!! Jake rushed into the living room. “Ty? Wake up!” “What? What is happening? Did I fell asleep?” Tyler saw Jake is getting redder by second and his breathing speeding up and then he saw why, Jakes bulge was screaming from his trousers. Tyler stood up, he was looking into Jacobs eyes but this time he was looking down. “I sweet! My height increased too! "Look at those abs, my fat is gone! WOW this is awesome! Look at my chest, so define and..... wow my bulge seems bigger! Wanna check?" Jake was in state of trans looking at Ty, his brain just stops working, he was too horny for that. Tyler came close to Jacob, close enough for his pec be just few inches from Jacobs. "Pull the pants down. Let’s compare them. You were bigger before, how big yours again?" "6,7 inches" Jake pulled his pants down with his briefs and his painfully hard cock flung from his confinement. Tyler grabbed both cocks to compare. "Dude! I was only 5,5 inches but LOOK AT IT NOW! We are almost the same now! Thats crazy. Jake, go get the tape to measure it. .......Jake?" "Jake, honey, go and bring me the measuring tape.": said Tyler now with much lower voice. Jake whole body made a small twitch, which after he got out of the trans but when he moved his cock was still in Tylers hands. Jacob tried to pull one more time, but it only made his cock sends shivers of pleasure trough his body. “T-Ty you have to let me go if you want that tape.” Jake was starts panting quietly now, while grip on his cock just got stronger. With confusion Jake looked at Tylers face that was grinning at him back. “I just changed my mind, we can measure later, now, you are mine.” Tyler pulled Jake towards him into his embrace with Jake face right in front of Tylers. Tyler didn’t wait any second and gave Jake one huge passionate kiss, he started to feel something, something different, something he could describe as a bond forming. Even though they were together for 5 and married for 3 years, he knew it wasn’t love, he felt plenty of that for Jake, this was different. Tyler lifts Jake, Jake got surprised since Tyler had always problem lifting him. Tyler carried him into their bedroom like he weights nothing. Tyler slammed Jake on bed, Jaked turned around and saw Tyler pouncing on him like wild animal. Tyler pined Jake down to bed by holding his arms, lowered his head and licked Jake form his abs to his torso. Then he whispered into Jakes ear: “I haven nice prey here but, to be mine, I have to claim it first.” Right after that, without any warning, Tyler shoved his newly improved cock into Jake. Taken by surprise, Jake screamed from pain and pleasure. Tylers thrusts just got more intense. He was looking at Jakes flushed face and his cock was twitching like crazy. With one hand Tyler grabbed Jakes cock and start jerking it. This took Jake into overdrive and started cumming like he was holding it in for full year. Cumming changed into twitching, from reaching full body orgasm. He never felt like this before. “Now it’s my turn!”: Roared Tyler as his thrust slowed down but were more passionate, after few strong thrusts he came what felt like 5 minutes. It was intense Tylers cum made small bulge in Jakes tummy. The amount was just too much, cum was pushing Tylers cock out of Jake but Tyler shoved it in one more time to make sure it all stays in. Tyler kissed already passed out Jake and tired from sex he too fell asleep next to him hugging him tightly. When Jake woke up, Ty wasn’t in bed anymore. However, Jake heard laptops keyboard popping in the living room so he just decided he will take a shower. Inside under the falling water Jake was thinking about last night. The way Tyler was more daring was super-hot. Although Tyler was toping half of the time, he was more passionate and romantic rather than dominant. This train of thoughts gave Jake a boner, when he touched his dick, his legs gave away and he dropped to the shower floor panting. His dick was after last night super sensitive, was it because of the intensity of sex or body orgasm? Who knows, he knew only one thing, he must get rid of it. That was not really a problem since just few strokes made him cum, in his mid he saw Tyler, now beefy man with no hair flexing. Without touching, thanks to this thought Jake came again. After he cleaned himself again, he put on clothes and went to check on Ty what he was doing. Tyler was sitting on the sofa with his laptop on his legs. Jake couldn’t properly see what he was reading, only thing he saw was logo of Modify yourself company. “What are you looking at?” “Nothing really, just checking on other people before and after pictures. The transformations are fascinating.” “I can see by those used tissues next to you.” “You bet, and I didn’t have to even use porn, just flex in front of mirror. Till you were asleep I measured and weighted myself. I’m 6,1 feet exactly and weight 210lbs. Even though I lost some weight, it was only fat I lost, and I’m mainly muscle now.” Tyler stands up and flex for his husband his new muscle, new pride. “Holy shit! It seems you are even bigger than yesterday? Will you keep growing?” “No, serum should wear off, but we have 2 more and if what I saw on forum is true this day will be interesting.” “Do you know how are you going to use them? What part is going to change?” “You will see, but for now I want to enjoy this, let’s go to the gym to see my limits.” “Do you really want to go to the gym on Saturday?” “Yes, I believe you will like it, maybe even more than me. So go grab your gym bag.”: said Tyler again with his lower voice. “You know I can’t say no if you say it like that, it practically cheating.” ===================================================Part 3================================================== “We are here!” “Yea, I’m “super” hyped.” “Don’t be like that pumpkin, we came here to test my new muscles.” “No, you came here to test your new muscles, I came here because I got charmed by you and till I realized what happened we were here.” “Excuses, get your ass inside." "Fine, but I’m just going to watch. I have plenty of training during the week, I want to relax during the weekend." "Boo-hoo one more day of training. You cand do cardio instead of eating sweats you like so much and It’s not like you would be able to spot me :P" After they changed clothes and some additional whining form Jake, they entered training area. Tyler when right for the weights and Jake for the treadmill. After and half hour Jake went buy some drinks, post workout shakes for Tyler and water for him to satiate his thirst after so much running. On the way out as he turned around, he slammed with his face into guy behind him. Drinks went flying. Shake cup splashed their whole content onto guys torso. Jake went pail, the guy was ripped, Jake knew that if this guy was on roids, what he was by his physique, he will end up purple from beating. He immediately started to apologize. With his T-shirt he tried to rub the shake off the guy. "Deeeam bunny, do you do this service to all dudes? Jakes eyes went wide, that huge, ripped guy was Tyler. "What the actual..." Tyler covered Jakes mouth with his hand. "Sir, we apologize for the mess, but we are in a hurry, sorry we can’t help to clean up the mess. “: With that Tyler grabbed Jakes hand and dragged him to the car. In car Jake got his senses back. "What the actual fuck happened to you? I thought you said there is no more growing. But look at you, you are huge." "And you are hard. “: Said Ty and grabbed Jakes hard cock in his pants. "Aa-aahhh, stop gripping it like that or I... aaaaAAAh“: Jake gripped Ty’s hand and with big difficulty he pushed it away with both hands. "Don’t worry I’m just teasing you, but we have to hurry home the main event is still waiting us at home." They were home in 10 minutes, whole drive Jake couldn’t look away from Tyler. He looked so big and manly now. Bigger, taller, Jake was winning only in crotch area now and not by lot after yesterday dose. During the ride Tyler wasn’t thinking about anything else, only about the main event that he kept from Jake and his cock only got harder just by thinking about it. If Jake thought this was hot, he was eager to know what Jake would think after. ===================================================Part 4================================================== After they entered the house Ty started to drag Jake to the bedroom, but Jake stopped Ty right way. "Ty I really need a shower and you are too. You are still sticky from the shakes!" "Don’t be a buzz kill bunny, this one will be special I promise!" "I’m down for shower fuck, would that be a possibility?" "I think that would make my surprise even more fun. “: Said Tyler with devilish grin. "Oke, so let’s go." "Go there first, I just have to take something with me." "Hmmm, I will be waiting." Tyler went into the living room and took out last two syringes with him. In bathroom Tyler placed syringes on the sink counter and flex in the mirror. He loved how buff he was, and his cock loved that too. He stands on the scales and it showed 235lbs. "Fuck, I’m huge." "Were you saying something?" "Yes, I said open the shower door and watch!" "What are you talking abo...." When Jake opened the door he saw Tyler, muscles pumped with blood to brim making him look even bigger and his cock almost purple how hard he was, holding both syringes. "There is a theory, about these syringes. The reason they took them out of the shelves and now are heavy regulated. If you have “ALPHA” gene and use this serum on your balls and back of your head at the same time, in places closest to your testosterone and growth glands you can activate this gene. "What? But those guys are so rare to see there are only in thousands in whole world!" "And I’m going to became one of them. WATCH!" As Tyler said those words, he grabbed the syringes. First one went between his cock and ball sack and second one was shoved into top of his neck near the spine. Since this was the second dose of the serum the changes begun instantly. Tylers whole body cramped making him look more defined, after the muscles relaxed, they started to grow even bigger. First his pec grew into huge melon sized pillows, his nicely cut abs, now they each shaped like a brick sticking out one inch each. His back was next, huge lats like wings were pushing his still small arms away from his core body. His back was now full of valleys form all that bulging muscles fighting for space. After back it was time for hands, the shoulders grew into the size of bowling ball, biceps into Cantaloupe the rest of the hands grew into size to match. His legs started to shake, first from the weight that grew on top of them but later from their own growth. Tylers legs became huge tree trunks, one leg was bigger than Jakes chest. When all muscles stop growing his veins popped out. Huge pencil size veins. Tyler roared, seeing only red from so much testosterone. His hair grew longer and got wild shape, his clean shaved chin grew thick twelve o’clock shadow. From this whole growing Jake noticed not only Tylers muscles but also heigh increased. From 6,1 into 7,85. He looked like real alpha from news. Tyler looked in direction of scared Jake. Jakes heart was beating for his life and was horny as never before. His husband just grew in front of his eyes into muscular, wild looking alpha. Tyler waked into the shower corner, he had to duck and enter sideways. Jake was pushed into the corner. Tyler was so big now that water from shower head was poured only on his wide back fully covering Jake from getting more water on him. "Don’t worry it’s not over yet. The fun part aaaAHH-AAAhhh Haaa-ha it’s still coming. “: Said Tyler with deep voice, the voice was even deeper than the voice he used to taunting Jake to get him going. Tyler pointed in into his crotch. His balls started to inflate, from grapes into lemons then big oranges and ended up as two grapefruits tightly fitted into still not adapted ball sack. The rush of huge amount of testosterone got Tyler into overdrive.His clean shaved face grew beard and made his face more rugged. He roared like wild beast he now was. His whole body flexed and grew even more, as he was leaning on the wall with his right hand the tiles behind his hand cracked. Tyler felt it’s time for his cock. "It’s time! ": Tyler shouted. With his huge hands he grabbed Jake, he tried to protest but the grip wasn’t like in the car on the way here. This time it was like he was held by machine. No matter how hard he tried, it looked like Tyler didn’t even noticed there was any attempt of escape. Jake looked down and saw that Tyler is lowering him on his angrily red, metal hard cock. Tyler didn’t wait and just shoved his dick in. "AAAAaaah" They both screamed, both from pleasure and pain. "It is starting!" As these words were spoken, Tylers cock started to twitch. With each pulse his cock grew. Jake realized it right away and it was not only growing inside of him but outside too. Tylers base of his cock was getting so big it was slowly pushing itself out from Jake ass. "Not a chance! “: Screamed Tyler and shoved Jake back to the base of his cock. “Last time I felt the bond because I was so close to Alpha hood but this time, THIS TIME! I will forge it. And then you will be only mine!" Jake didn’t understand since Alphas never talked much about their bond since for them and their partners the bond was sacred. Only thing that was known was that bond was something that bonded two of them for their life. It was not possible to remove it and only way to make new bond was if the "beta" partner died before "alpha". And rumors were that there were other strong abilities that bond had. But Tyler now knew, no, more like felt what he needed to do. He felt his cock throb with each of his heartbeat. With each throb the cock grew bigger, thicker and the veins became big as a pen. Jake could feel the ridges of the veins adding on pleasure. He felt like Ty’s dick was almost in his chest. The feeling was crazy. "T-T-Ty! Ty! Tyler! ": Cried Jake. "I can’t, please, pull it out, AAAAAaaaa-aaahhhh. I’m scared, I’m scared of you, put me down." "Shut up! You talk too much. I’m in charge now! If I say something, you do it!” Tyler pulled out his cock, it was huge, at least twice of Jakes cock. In front of Jake was over foot big cock. It had to be at least 14 inches long. "God, no wonder I felt I was filling you up whole. My cock is almost as long as your torso and thick as your arm, no bigger! My transformation for now it seems to be over, time to do the bond." "Tyler, you can’t think you can shove it back into me. ": Cried Jake. Tyler hand flew next to the Jake head into the wall behind him, but this time it wasn’t only tiles that gave up. Tyler made hole through the wall. With his other hand Tyler took Jake by his neck and lift him till Jakes legs we no longer touching the floor. "You dare to defy me! You are mine! ": Tylers scream was so loud Jake felt all his bones inside him. His neck was starting to form bruises. Tyler pulled out his hand out of the wall and let he of Jakes net. He grabbed his legs instead. Now only things that was supporting Jake were Tylers hands and wall behind him. Tyler aimed his cock into Jakes ass and forcefully penetrated Jake. Tyler started mercilessly fucking Jake. Jake was screaming, from pain from the grip on his legs and huge cock that was coming out and in from his ass. He felt like something was breaking inside him. Not his body but inside his spirit. "I feel it, YES! I’m fucking FEEEL IT!" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaahh!" Screamed Jake as Tyler for last time shoved his cock inside. Jakes whole body spasm from body orgasm and all that movement was just supporting Tyler huge orgasm. Jake cock shot so hard it hit Tylers face. Tyler meanwhile came so hard it pushed Jake from his cock and felt on the ground where he wasn’t safe. The stream of cum continued as Tylers balls tried to empty all the content. Tyler also couldn’t hold himself standing and felt to his knees overwhelmed from the orgasm. The cock still shooting thick ropes of cum covering whole Jakes body. Jake was still shaking but even Jake didn’t know from what. Was it from that strong body orgasm? Or the stress and how much scared he was from Tyler now? He didn’t know. Tyler rinsed himself and left the shower with Jake on the floor. After a while Jake made attempt to stand up but found out he had to unstick himself from the wall he was connected by Tylers cum. He washed himself and went to the bed. His legs hurting as hell. Tyler was already in bed taking most of. Jake decided it would be best if he don’t sleep with Tyler in same bed so left to lay down on the couch and after a short cry, he fell asleep.
  7. GrowthWriter

    Johnny Grewnami

    Forgive any spelling/grammatical mistakes, been out of practice. Got inspired to write this story. Johnny could feel all eyes fall on him as he entered the gym. Could he blame them? Three hundred pounds of pure lean muscle, packed tight into a sun-yellow stringer that clung to pecs that looked like they could have their own gravitational pull. Not to mention lats that made his cannon-like arms rest at a permanent angle, and a pair of legs that could rival a racing horse. Johnny knew he was a damn stud, and he savored the dozens of eyes watching him walk towards the weights; the big man not even bothering to check in at the reception. It was chest day, and Johnny was keen on giving his audience a show. Taking over one of the benches, Johnny loaded the olympic bar with one hundred fifteen pounds as his warm-up. By now the gym had nearly totally silent, the only sound being the shitty pop hits playing over the speakers. Placing his calloused hands on the bar, Johnny got into position, and with barely any effort he unracked the weight. With steady even reps, Johnny brought the bar down to his chest, then back up - making sure to lock out his arms as he did. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty. He only stopped at forty because he was getting bored. With a heavy clang he reracked the barbell. The beginnings of a decent pump were showing, the straps of his stringer were already being stretched before he started, now they looked like they were holding on for dear life as his chest threatened to tear the garment apart. “More.” Johnny’s voice was like thunder as it escaped his lips - he hadn’t even shouted, but if you were close enough you could feel the ground rumble with the single word. Another five pounds were added to the bar, and another forty reps were completed. Johnny didn’t start showing signs of fatigue until he’d done his set of forty with 130lbs. The gym had gone dead silent by then, the receptionist having turned off the radio. If everyone wasn’t watching him before, they were now. Johnny stood from the bench. The stringer clung to his frame like a second skin, the maroon fabric drenched in sweat as it hugged every inch of his pumped torso. His already massive chest was beyond pumped, cable veins and striations covering the muscle. The fist sized abs that sat just below were on full display now, each deep groove framing his midsection perfectly. Slowly, Johnny grabbed the collar of his stringer. With one powerful movement, he tore the fabric like paper - he could swear he heard one of the older gym members moan out as he revealed his immense musculature. “Tren hard.” He gave a double bi to a nearby man in his early forties - a small smile spreading across his face as he watched the older man fall to his knees clutching his tenting shorts. Adding another five pounds to the bar, Jonny then returned to the bench - as his lats got an indirect pump from the lift, they spilled even farther off the sides. Unracking the weight, Johnny got into position. Sweat began to poor down his face as he lowered the bar, his arms trembling as he struggled to control the weight. The rep was going perfect, until he’d gotten half way, when he felt the cool air brush against his now exposed nipples. The cool air blowing across the long finger sized nubs made him lose concentration. With as much strength as he could will into his massive pecs, Jony managed to push the weight back up to lockout, and rerack the bar. Johnny let out a satisfied growl as he got to his feet, his massive chest rising and falling with every breath. He marched over to the nearest bench, each footstep sending a ripple through his shredded quads. Ignoring the towel and water bottle that rested on the equipment, Johnny dragged the bench next to the rows of dumbbells - completely ignoring the skinny twink who tried to meekly tell him he was using that. The more pumped Johnny got, the less of a shit he gave towards the little guys around him. They were there to watch the big men, give their unspoken praise and admiration to them - their own pitiful workouts were secondary to admiring him. Grabbing hold of a pair of 15s, Johnny sprawled himself onto the bench, his testosterone filled sweat immediately making the pleather fabric moist. Just like with the barbell bench, each rep was executed with perfect unyielding form. Up, down, up, down. Veins continued to snake across his chest and the muscle grew with each movement - the water retention from the creatine he diligently took making the muscle packed full to the brim. After eighteen agonizing reps, Johnny let the dumbbells fall the ground with a thud. Not bother to put the weights away, he went back to the rack and grabbed a pair of 18s. He repeated the set, making sure to let out guttural moans with each rep he did. After another fifteen reps were done, Johnny tossed the weights down and got to his feet. The pump was nasty. There was hardly a better way to describe the inhuman level of size and density of his chest. Hose thick veins snaked around pecs that resembled small planets rather than muscle. For shits and giggles Johnny grabbed a weight clip and placed it against his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was the copious amount of sweat, or the textured striations, but the rush of hormones that filled him as he watched the metal stick to the meaty orb was nothing short of overwhelming. He was sure at this rate if he kept it up he could have his own ecosystem on his chest - maybe even eventually have tiny little cities built across their expanse. “Oh my god, his chest has it’s own gravitational pull.” A nearby twink exclaimed quietly, his voice thick with lust and envy. “Let’s test that theory.” Johnny turned towards the group of lifters all watching him. Drawing in a deep breath, Johnny brought his arms forward into the biggest most muscular he could manage, his musculature exploding in size as his face got red from the effort. Gritting his teeth, he focused all he could on his chest. His already hard member got even more rigid as he watched one of the lightest members - an elderly man in his late sixties - slowly get pulled in his direction, his brittle body gliding across the floor until he made contact with Johnny’s engorged chesticles. Sweat poured down his immense physique as he hardened his flex even more; and in response he watched as another man -younger, in his late twenties- also got pulled in. After two more had been pulled into his mass, the gym goers began to flee, stumbling their way away from the mass monster. Johnny let out a primal snarl, asserting his alpha dominance over the gym as he continued his massive flex. His posing was momentarily interrupted as he felt something warm come in contact with his finger-length nipple. The warm feeling was then accompanied by another on the other nipple, and the sounds of vigorous sucking. The old man, and the young man had begun attacking his nipples with their mouths, sucking the meaty nubs with all their energy, and guzzling the white liquid the spurt in response. With each gulp the two grew little by little, slowly beginning to resemble the density and size of their god. “Yes, grow my children. Become alphas like me, your ALPHA KING.” His voice shook the building, weights came crashing onto the floor and mirrors shattered. “Oof, I don’t feel so good.” The older man’s voice broke through the silence that had followed Johnny’s words. He gripped his belly, the blocky abs that adorned his midsection were bloated and swollen out into a large distended sphere. Johnny let out a small grunt as his eyes caught something, nearly imperceptible - at the top of the beer keg of a belly, he saw… a kick.
  8. wshpmus

    Killer Looks

    Here''s another older story of mine. Definitely violent so if that's not your thing or a turn off then don't bother. Since muscles are synonymous with strength I think some degree of violence is always or at least very often a given. We could break down the psychology of that, but fuck that, I don't actually care why it's a turn on for me... just is. Killer Looks “It’s cash up front. Leave the money here,” the huge former pro wrestler now turned hustler said, gesturing to the entry table. “Like I said in my text, I don’t usually do guys, but I make the occasional exception. Fee is double though.” “Yes, you were quite clear about that.” The silver haired, partially balding man answered back, pulling a thick envelope from the breast pocket of his suit and placing it on the marble tabletop. “$2800, for two hours. It’s all here. Feel free to count it.” “No, you look like the honest type,” the big guy said while still picking up the envelope and peering inside, flicking through the pile of hundred dollar bills. “You can look, and touch, blow me if you want, and maybe I’ll fuck you, but that’s it. Nothing else.” “How kind.” The faintest trace of sarcasm accompanied the old man’s reply. “So I take it you know who I am, or was… I guess I’m retired from the wrestling game now. But I do keep the body in shape. That’s what I was known for. And of course I’m sure that’s what you’re paying for?” “Among other things, yes.” “Like I said, only the things I say gramps. We clear on that.” “Oh absolutely.” “Fine.” The Buff guy turned from the apartments entryway and sauntered into his expansive and sunny Miami high rise living room. The end wall a panorama of glass and ocean view. He let his lats flare out as he walked into the room, knowing it’s what his client wanted, the display of his body his former wrestling trade mark. He bent both arms up into a back double biceps pose knowing the clock had started. His neon blue t shirt stretched tight across his big back and the sleeves straining against the bent up arms, each boulder of split peak as impressive as ever. “I see you’ve kept yourself in fighting shape.” The old man smiled, a lascivious grin spread across his face. “Damn right I do. This body made me a rich man, opened doors for me. I’m not about to neglect it.” He turned and smiled at his customer. “You wanna see it, don’t you pops?” “Indeed.” Buff guy smiled like the whore he was and shucked off the t-shirt and flung it to the ground as he tightened and rippled his bared upper torso. Still proud of his physique, and the 248 pounds of bulk he carried on his 6’ 2” frame. Not quite the perfect body of ten years ago, when he was in his prime, but still a magnificent specimen, hard, reasonably toned and massive. He started putting on a show, displaying his bare torso in all the standard bodybuilder poses. The bright sunlight washing across his tanned mass. “You wanna oil me up?” “No, thank you. I think we might just be breaking a sweat shortly and I can see your muscles glistening to perfection then.” Buff guy frowned a bit, wondering exactly what he was going to be asked to do, but he continued to run through his poses. He unzipped his tight jeans and started working them down over his enormous quads, shaking them out once free of the denim and offering the sight of them up to the old man like two prized additions to his perfection. “Oh my my, those are very impressive. I do so hate a man that ignores his leg development.” “Uh, yeah. I always worked them hard.” Buff guy stated, still flexing the big thighs. “When you gotta press some 300 pounder over your head you need big wheels. Lift with your legs man.” “Very true, very true. I couldn’t agree more,” the old man seemed to smirk again as he answered. “Maybe you wanna watch a little home workout?” Buff guy asked smiling enticingly, preferring showing off while he lifted to anything sexual with this old coot. “Why yes, that would be most enjoyable.” Buff guy nodded his head towards the connecting room and walked into a bedroom converted to home gym. A wall of mirrors reflected the equally sunny space and glistened off the chrome weights and black vinyl benches and pads. He pulled off his skimpy briefs and let his nicely sized dick swing free, adding to the show his customer paid for. “Oh very nice package indeed. I had hoped your steroid use hadn’t shrunk that away to nothing.” “Who said I’ve used steroids?” The silver haired man just gave him an ‘oh pleeze’ reality check look, and Buff guy nodded, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah so maybe roids have helped me do this…” he said scooping two ninety pounders off the rack and pumping out some alternating dumbbell curls, “but everyone seems to like the results. Don’t they?” He asked while looking down at his large veiny biceps swelling and bulging with each rep. “Certainly no one would argue that. Least of all me.” Buff guy watched himself and the visitor as he did a couple sets, flexing and rubbing his own arms provocatively on each short break. “I imagine those feel quite as impressive as they look.” Buff guy bent an arm into a right angle and swung it forward for the old man to feel, who did so immediately, his grip quite powerful on the hardened muscle. Buff guy noticed this and clearly looked surprised. “Mind if I join you?,” he asked unexpectedly, and Buff guy paused in surprise. “Huh?” “Can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?” the silver daddy stated as he hands went up to his collar and started loosening the tie around his neck, pulling it off quickly and unbuttoning his shirtfront. He stared at Buff guy’s face as his shirt began to open up and his flawlessly rounded smooth shaven chest and deeply chiseled 10 pack were revealed. He shucked off the shirt and suit jacket together and unveiled an upper body of such indescribable physical perfection that Buff guy’s mouth dropped open in complete and utter awe. “Fuck yeah,” the old man moaned with pleasure at the sight of his own uncovered beauty. “I try to keep the old bones in shape,” he began stroking his hands across his own large, striated chest and down his cobbled abs, so deeply etched the shadows between each individual muscle created a dark outline highlighting the incredible definition. “I like to keep my body fat around 4%, but sometimes I think I loose track of it and just don’t have any to speak of. Shredded and ripped up like a twenty year old seems to suit me, don’t you think Pudgy?” Buff guy looked up at that, tearing his eyes off the youthful body of perfection and appraising his expression. “You calling me fat?” “No never,” the silver daddy continued while unzipping his pants and kicking them away, shucking off the shoes and underwear immediately after. “I just think next to me you do have a bit of surplus fatty tissue.” As if to emphasize his point he turned and flexed his bared rounded ass, the striations rippling across it defied belief. “Excuse me Chunk-o,” he chuckled a bit as he brushed past Buff guy and reached for the heaviest dumbbells on the rack. The 150’s weren’t often used for anything but presses and the old guy smiled at his own reflection as he started curling them like they weighed nothing. “How the fuck can a guy your age have a body like that!” Buff guy stood with hands on his hips, staring into the mirror at the naked man next to him swinging up the massive weight effortlessly. His eyes drifted down to the thick twelve inch pole between his legs, an appendage clearly twice as big as his own. “Yeah, that’s pretty fucking impressive too, isn’t it. No ones ever gonna call you a pencil dick, but next to me… well.” “I just can’t believe…” Buff guy stammered, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. “I mean holy fuck, who’d have thought you had a body like that under the suit. An old guy like you. It’s fucking…” “Unbelievable. Yes, I know. I get that all the time. Hardly a new reaction, trust me.” A light sheen of sweat was starting to glisten all over the hills and valleys of muscle covering every inch of the old man’s exposed body. “I’m rather proud of the fact I keep myself in semi decent shape.” A grin crossed his face. “Oh who am I kidding, false modesty doesn’t suit me at all. I’m quite proud of this shell I occupy. The body is a temple, I know you agree with that. Some of us have humble churches, others cathedrals.” He was finished with the weights and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor then stared at himself, admiring his own arms as they began to show their pump. “Christ, I got neighbors, you can set those down you know.” “These floors are poured concrete, they can’t hear a thing.” The old man lunged suddenly at Buff guy and pulled him into a head lock. He tightened his grip like a vice and squeezed the thick column of neck like it was a rag doll, twisting and pulling the big 250 pounder off balance. Taking him off his feet, the old man held him in the headlock for a few long moments, savoring the feel of complete dominance he felt over the former pro wrestler, then he released him with a chuckle and slap on the back. “I don’ think that was on your list of things we couldn’t do together?” the old guy chuckled looking at the red marks around Buff guys neck. “What the fuck pops!” Buff guy was pissed. “You don’t wanna play at wrestling with me! I will fucking snap you like a twig.” “Oh that would be fun, wouldn’t it. Would you like to try?” “Listen, you didn’t pay me for a wrestling match.” “Oh, pity. I thought you might actually be good at it. I have such trouble finding decent matches.” Without pausing he reached out quickly and open handedly smacked Buff guy across the face. Anger flared up, but he tried to contain it. “We ain’t playin’ this…” whack. Another slap backhanded him. “Oh the fuck we ain’t.” Buff guy yelled and sprang at the old man, who completely ready for the charge gripped him in a bear hug and swung his body forward past him and threw him into the mirrored wall. The glass shattered dramatically and the big wrestler slid down the wall onto the weight rack. He pulled himself back up, shucking off glass shards and looked at the old guy in disbelief. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, you old pussy.” “That’s the spirit,” he heard answered back before a pair of iron like fingers grabbed him and pulled him up and away from the wall, into the air and flying across the room. The big former wrestler skidded across the last ten feet of the room. “Oh, that’s going to be a hell of a rug burn, isn’t it Porky?” Buff guy got up red faced and seething and charged back across the room, slamming into the silver haired geezer and clotheslining him to the floor. He hammered down on the hard prone body with his forearms, smashing them down repeatedly against his chest trying to force the air out of his lungs. He escalated the punishment quickly and kneed the ribcage a couple times, knowing what that did to incapacitate an opponent. For good measure he put a choke hold on the old man and took his anger out on the neck cradled in his big arms, as he choked the windpipe, waiting for the guy to pass out. When it seemed he finally had and the old man’s eyes were closed, Buff guy finally let go, spit on the prone man’s chest and then sat back on his ass staring at the incredible chiseled physique lying still before him and wondering how this appointment had turned into this bizarre encounter. He was startled when the old guy quietly said in a very normal voice, “Well that was fun.” He sat up and turned to the whore, wiping the spit off his thick pecs. “You really do hit like a girl.” He stood up and put his hands on his hips, facing the wrestler who rose up off the floor. “Why don’t you give me your best shot. Free target, give it your all pussyboy.” He pointed to his own chin, and his washboard stomach. “Your choice.” Buff guy hesitated a second, but then said, ‘fuck it’ and drew back his fist and connected with a vicious right cross to the old guy’s face. His head whipped around but then snapped right back and smiled at him. “Oh princess, that was sweet. Try a little harder.” Buff guy rapid fired punches into the granite stomach like he was working a body bag and went unblocked for a good minute and a half before he started tiring out, his fists aching from the hardened muscle he was pounding. “You’ll probably have to ice those later,” silver daddy chuckled, “if you can.” He said as an after thought, then added. “My turn!” His first punch completely doubled over the big wrestler who dropped to his knees, and then vomited up his lunch. “This isn’t going to be much of a challenge at all, now is it? How very disappointing.” The muscle daddy turned to face the mirror as he spoke. “I always think I’ve found someone who’s going to surprise me, to give me a bit of a run for my money… and for $2800 you think you’d be a better run. I suppose pro wrestling really is just all for show now isn’t it. I should have known that.” He started stroking his own beautiful physique lovingly as he spoke, “But you see, I’m the real thing. I’ve worked rather hard to achieve all of this. Thousands of inverted sit ups each and every day, weight training for power and beauty, eating properly of course, isometric training, kickboxing, tae kwan doe, flexibility work, endurance, everything necessary to achieve physical perfection. And just look at me my dear boy, you have to admit, I am quite perfect. Granted, the passing of time has taken it’s toll on my face, there’s nothing much I can do about that, but my body, oh that’s another story for sure. I easily have the physical stamina of a young olympian, and the skills beyond even that. I’m afraid though our little arrangement here is going to have to be adjusted. I don’t care to be fucked, thank you all the same, but I do fully intend to enjoy that fat ass of yours. And please, do try to put up a bit of a struggle, it makes it so much more fun for me.” The silver muscle daddy walked over to the weight bench, loaded with the Buff guy’s last heavy benching weight, 345 pounds. He stood behind the bar and scooped it off the rack and pressed it up to his chest, with one easy huff of air he hoisted it over his head and did a few standing military presses, his shoulders exploding with the massive pump he was giving them, then he brought the weight down and like before curled it slowly, watching the girth of his shredded arms easily gliding the ridiculous weight up and down as the veins bulged from under his taut skin. The daddy’s big dick grew hard while he pumped the weight, and the Buff guy started to panic, knowing what was shortly in store for him. “It’ won’t hurt.” Muscle daddy slammed the weight onto the rack and did a most muscular pose as he growled, “Much.” Buff guy panicked, seeing the old dude pumped up and playing with weights that he knew no normal man could handle with such apparent ease. It must be some freakish adrenaline rush, turning the old geez into a fucking superman. Buff guy turned and ran for the other room, hoping to get out of the apartment before this man could act on his last words. He realized all too quickly that pops was as fast as he claimed, and he’d sprung at him as he made his dash and felt the vice like grip of the man’s two hands grab him by the traps and squeeze. The crushing grip stopped Buff guy dead and slowly he dropped to his knees from the incredible seering pain. “Isn’t there some stupid wrestling name for this? Cobra clutch, or death grip or something equally asinine.” Buff guy’s wince of pain soon turned to screams as he fought and clawed against the two arms gripping him from behind. “Oh this is fun, you’re like a little girl.” The grip suddenly let go and Buff guy felt a bare foot push down on the small of his back, causing him to face dive onto the floor. Before he’d even caught his breath he felt himself being picked up, scooped from the ground like he weighed nothing and then suddenly tossed across the long living room, his body sailing twenty five feet and landing hard. “Too bad your floors don’t have all that bounce of the ring. Cause I’m sure that had to hurt a bit.” The silver daddy sauntered across the room slowly, passing another mirror in the living room and smiling at his own reflection, flexing his arms a bit and bouncing his chest. “God damn just look at me. I really am the ideal specimen of a man, don’t you think so darling?” He knelt down beside the big guy on the floor and tenderly stroked a hand across the wide back. Looking down at the pool of blood under the Buff guy’s face, draining from the clearly broken nose that had crushed on impact. “Oh my precious boy, that had to have hurt. And you’re pretty face, such a shame. But I always think a broken nose makes a man look so much more masculine. Don’t you agree.” “You insane piece of shit, I’m going to have you thrown in jail.” “Oh now that’s a thought isn’t it, jail can be such a lot of fun. Think of all the men there for me to dominate. I love making big guy’s my bitch… but then, I think you’ve already figured that out now, haven’t you?” “You touch me and I’ll…” “You are funny sunshine, you’ll do what exactly?” Buff guy started to pull himself up from the floor, but had only gotten into a push up like position, his arms lifting his torso from the floor, when the old guy snatched the wrist nearest him and pulled hard and fast, flipping the big guy over onto his back while he once again applied incredible pressure to the joint he held so firmly. With his other hand he reached out and took the index finger of the hand he held immobile and then smiled directly into the sweating man’s frightened face as the realization of what he was about to do hit him. “I don’t like threats.” And he broke the finger like a pretzel stick. Buff guy screamed in agony. “Now see what you made me do. All I wanted was to play nice.” The old man chuckled, “Well that’s not entirely true, I admit. After all you are a whore. And whore’s are paid to be fucked, now aren’t they.” He reached down and started stroking his big cock, taking it from half hard to fully ready in a few moments. “I believe this was your lube of choice?” he asked as he spit onto his dick and mounted the wrestler in a quick and brutal thrust. “Well we knew that was going to be tight, didn’t we?” The Buff guy felt another round of unbelievable pain as the thick cock pounded his virgin ass. To his astonishment he felt himself being picked up from the ground, the old man had taken him in his arms and lifted his 248 pounds into the air while the big dick remained driven deep into his ass. “Oh fuck yes,” the old man groaned as he effortlessly pumped the huge man up and down on his swollen cock, holding him like some 90 pound twink and giving him a ride that defied belief. “Time to blow my load in your hole you hot little fuck toy. Daddy’s coming.” Even through the pain the buff guy felt the hot stream of jizz fill his ass, then a second, and third wave of cum followed the first. “Fucking christ almighty, now that felt good.” The old man pulled his half hard cock out and unceremoniously let the big guy drop flat on his back to the ground. “Shit, that was what I needed. Fuck yes.” He looked down at the big muscleman on the floor writhing in pain and gave him a “tsk, tsk” sound. “You didn’t enjoy that? What a shame. But then, I’m not done yet. Maybe you need to see how a real man fuck’s a whore.” He reached down to his own dick and stroked himself a few times, and the Buff guy’s eyes widened in total fear and amazement as he saw the old man getting hard again instantly. “How the fuck…” he muttered. “I know, I do have rather remarkable stamina.” He reached down and put his hands on both sides of the wrestlers face, then pulled him up from his back onto his knees, and said very calmly, “Your going to suck me off now like a good little whore, and if your teeth even so much as nick my beautiful big cock I’m going to break your neck, and as I recall, you already had that happen to you, now didn’t you? That couldn’t have been too pleasant. All that pain, the recovery time, never feeling quite the same. I think you know just how easily I could crack those vertebrae, so let’s be very careful and suck me off like a good little boy. We clear?” Buff guy just nodded and took the dick in his mouth, instantly choking as the dominant stud pulled him deeply onto his shaft. He didn’t have to suffer long, as within a minute or two he felt the hot pulse of cum hitting the back of his throat and making him gag. The old man pulled off and just smiled, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it.” The big guy rolled onto his back and groaned, in so much pain, his nose pounding, his finger throbbing, his ass and jaw aching… “Please just go” he thought to himself but didn’t dare say out loud. “You do like these big mirrors everywhere, don’t you? You must miss the limelight, the adoring fans, the people fawning over your body.” the old guy was studying himself and his own beautiful physique as he spoke. Flexing again for just himself, he admired and preened over his perfect body. And then, defying all belief, his cock started growing hard again. “I know, just look at that. I am insatiable.” He stroked his own big cock but completely focused on just his reflection, he ignored the big man on the floor completely as he pleasured himself and quickly came to near climax again. He turned at the last moment so that his spray of man seed shot across the five feet and splattered over the buff guy. He screamed as he came, “I am a true muscle god!”
  9. Part 1 As soon as he awoke, Jason was already in a bad mood. He started stretching and made up his bed. It's been quite a while that the dojo closed and competitions cancelled. They said he was an excellent instructor, but nevertheless they couldn't keep him on, even for online classes. Without friends or family to rely on, he was at a loss about how to keep the lights on. To make himself forget his worries for a while, he opened his Instagram account. All of the posts were just him dutifully practicing and stretching. Nothing special, nothing fancy. But this time, there's something different that caught his eyes. There's a message notification. He never had that before. He opened it. Username anonkarate111 said "Hi, nice kicks. Do you make custom videos?" It's unlike Jason to reply to anonymous strangers on the internet, but he is heavily strapped for cash. As Jason stared at the message, a mix of curiosity and apprehension coursed through him. He tapped his fingers on the phone, his thoughts racing as he considered the proposition. Making custom videos? It wasn't exactly the path he had imagined to support himself, but desperate times called for unconventional measures. With a sigh, he typed out a cautious response, his fingers dancing across the screen. "Thanks for reaching out. What kind of custom videos are you looking for?" He hesitated for a moment before pressing the send button, wondering what he was getting himself into. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity as he waited for a reply from this mysterious anonkarate111. A few heartbeats later, the notification pinged again, signaling a new message from anonkarate111. Jason's pulse quickened as he opened the message. "I'm looking for videos of your feet, especially while you're practicing your kicks and stretches. I'll pay generously for each video." Jason's eyebrows furrowed as he read the words, a mixture of disbelief and incredulity flooding his mind. Feet videos? It seemed absurd and almost surreal. His martial arts skills were his pride and identity, and now they were being reduced to something so bizarre. He chewed on his lower lip, torn between his financial desperation and his sense of dignity. After a moment of contemplation, he responded, his words tinged with a hint of defiance. "I appreciate the offer, but my focus has always been on martial arts itself. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with making videos of just my feet." He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and waited, his gaze fixed on the screen as the seconds ticked away. The ball was now in anonkarate111's court, and Jason's future hung in the balance as he grappled with the consequences of his decision. The reply from anonkarate111 came quicker than Jason expected, their words concise but persuasive. "I understand your hesitation, Jason. But consider this – your talent deserves recognition, and this could be a way to showcase your unique skills in a new light. Think about the possibilities and the financial relief it could bring. I'm willing to pay handsomely for your videos." Jason leaned back, staring at the screen with a mix of conflicting emotions. Could he really compromise his principles for the sake of financial stability? The rational part of his mind battled with his pride and integrity. He imagined the bills piling up, the looming uncertainty, and the weight of his circumstances pressing down on him. With a heavy sigh, he typed his response, his fingers moving with a mixture of resignation and determination. "I'll admit, I'm in a tough spot right now. Let's discuss the details, but know that I don't want my identity be known." As he hit send, a sense of both relief and unease washed over him. He had taken the first step into a territory he never thought he'd enter. The decision had been made, and now he could only brace himself for what lay ahead. The screen remained silent for a moment before another message from anonkarate111 appeared. "Your privacy is important, Jason. I respect that. Let's proceed with discretion. I'll send you the details and payment information through a secure channel. Looking forward to working with you." Jason's heart raced as he read those words. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, yet there was a strange mix of relief and anticipation building within him. He had just taken a leap into the unknown, trading his pride for financial relief. He felt a twinge of guilt, as if he were betraying his true passion, but he couldn't deny the practicality of his decision. As he stared at the message, his mind whirred with thoughts of the future. He would have to find a way to compartmentalize this part of his life, to ensure it didn't tarnish his reputation as a martial artist. But for now, as the weight of his circumstances loomed large, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that this unconventional path might just be his lifeline. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. It was a new chapter, one he had never anticipated, and only time would tell where it would lead him.
  10. Bigrowinggod

    A stronger strain : a HIMs story

    Found this universe hot so I thought I would try to write a story in it chapter 1 Tyrone pov It has taken a few months but I finally got a sample of a more powerful strain of the virus out of the lab. I can’t believe I get to turn my lovable boyfriend into a god. I was so hard just thinking about it. I just keep thinking how he will react shocked scared happy just a few more turns before I get home. I still can’t believe the world Changed so much In just a few months. Randomly men and some women (I believe it is called H.E.R.S then ) grew into sexy virile giants and if my calculations are correct due to rays weaker immune system he will tower over them. I see him making dinner for us as I walk in. “Hey babe what are you making” I ask hugging him from behind “ I was craving some meat so I kinda made a bunch of meat dishes so we could have some left overs too” he kisses me before finishing what he was doing and I’m just smiling knowing there is no way there will be left overs as that hug just infected him. we start eating and i just slowly eat as I see him devouring more and more food his clothes growing tight but he’s to hungry to notice. “More” he roars as he clears the table so I bring out the advanced nutritional formula that I had stored away for this moment he downs one after another as he shoots past 15 feet still not done he keep eating and drinking more and more till he hits 18 feet and stops for now. “Babe what did you” do he says as I cum at the sight of him
  11. Mickyh32

    Diary of A Wimpy Slave

    Hey all, trying something a little different, hope you like it!!! You can reply as if you were a character following the blog or as yourself or both lol Right.... er.....before i start in detail i must just warn that im risking ALOT doing this. I have an hour, so i will get through as much as i can until next time, hopefully their will be one! (BIG GULP) So my name is mike, im 20 and from London,UK. For the past 7 days ive been playing... no not the right word....forced.. thats better... to be my brutally fit and strong, but admittingly hot(yes, muscles make me "happy") bro's slave, worshipper and human barbell. Yes you read that correctly!! More on my bro and how it came about that he started dominating my life shortly, but its only fair that i give a little info about me just for balance. So this is me...... I know what your all thinking!! Yes, i look young for my age, family trait!! As you can see im a little athletic physically, im more a runner type guy, the brute size and strength is all my bros, again you'll find out more very soon. You would think with me using words like brutal and slave so far that my tone would be a little more worrying, frightened even, and in a way i am, as i said at the start, im risking a lot doing this, that risking lot being the difference between a hospital visit or not, if you get me. I am OWNED by my bro, everything i do has to have consent for him and yes that includes writing a live blog diary!! Any disobedience and that human barbell becomes a play thing of crushing, hitting, bending or worse. So you see why i have to be sooo careful. But, as you will find out if ive been good i get rewarded and thats where the worship part comes in, so ive learnt to take the bad with the ohh soo drool worthingly good. I know you want me to get to the nitty gritty, so here goes, but first i need to show you my master, here he is, Master, 19yr old. I can feel bulges forming and hear mouths gawping up and down the country already!! Yes my bro is a fucking beast, i mean look at those pecs, knotted forearms, bulging tris and powerful rounded shoulders. Its actually this pic that has got me to the predicament im in today, so....... Day 1 This day started and progressed like any other ordinary working day would, we said our goodbyes at the breakfast table, me in my smart wear and my (then) in the tightest tee his tradesman job could get him, i mean jeez it was a sight to see, anyway moving on, Bro always trained after work, more occupants meant more mouths to see dropping which he loved, for me it was home to feed and rest. Involved in that rest is a bit of "me time" which 10 times out of 10 involves me wanking over some hot muscle stud working out and/or posing. That night was certainly no different! This is when i made the first of my 2 , life changing , errors. When watching videos i never put my headphones in, guess what i did that night!! Oblivious to anything happening in the house then! I took a quick scroll through Insta before heading to My Muscle Video, yes you've guessed it, i fell on the above pic of my Master! Screw MMV this was my wank material for the night, already fully tented i started tugging away, all sorts of scenarios running in my head of what i do with that body, getting close to eruption point.......A shadow loomed over me, i felt a strong hand grasp my shoulder, im spun round in my chair, there stood before me, muscles bulging out of a under armour base layer tee, i moaned out loud! I looked up, my bros rugged face one of shock but growing authority, by this point it was too late, the wet patch had appeared very clearly. i threw my headphones off and apologised as many times as i could. I still remember the deep commanding reply, "GET UP!!" Like i was in a trance i got up, head bowed, i couldn't face facing him, without knowing id already kinda started my sub journey. "LOOK AT ME!!" i remember him barking. Again head straight up, crossing his huge arms over his bulging pecs. fuuuuuck what a sight, he demanded to know why i was wanking over his gym pic! Stupidly i started by trying to deny it, big mistake, cue him getting his phone out, going on his insta to that post and shoving it in my face, i went redder then red! The combo of the music and my loss of inhibitions had made me totally forget who he was, i had commented with a PHHWWOARR, a drooling emoji, hot emoji and yes the aubergine one!! SHIT!!!!! I couldn't lie now!! i sank to my chair, and felt it best to come straight out with it, ( exact words may have been different) " i've always found your muscles attractive bro, i like fit guys in general, there are loads at my running club and work, b.b.b.b.bbuut ive never seen anything like yours, you look so big, powerful, dominant and.........(big revealing sigh) HOT! PPPLease dont tell anyone or hurt me!!" The hurt me bit, hmmm, yes i knew my bro could snap me in half easily but just his whole physical presence and aura told me that if i was a stranger id have had the beating works!! So i covered my back as it were. "ON YOUR KNEES!!" i was down in a split second, i remember looking up and seeing him flare his lats, fuuuck they spread like cobra wings and blocked out the above light. " SO YOU LIKE MY MUSCLES DO YOU BRO??" My head like a nodding doll. I watched as he crouched down to my level, placed a caloused couple of fingers under my chin, damn they felt rough, tilted my head up and looked directly in my eyes, i still remember the shiver going through me, SLAP, his other hand connects hard with my cheek, " If you dont want your sick little secret to get out to your friends then your gonna have to be my little skinny muscle slave, understand!!" I was a quivering wreck i somehow put the correct response together in reply. i was went on to be told that i was now his, i would do everything for him, cook, wash, shop, get his supps ready, everything you could think of i now had to do for him going forward, all this to stop my muscle lust for him getting out! "AND ITS NOW MASTER, BOY!!!" There it was the confirmation that i was now officially his slave, no longer would i be calling him bro. "yes Master!" it felt strange but right to have said that. My master then stood up, his new found authoritivness oozing out of him, he peeled his tee off and threw the sweaty fabric in my face, OMG the smell was intoxicating, i breathed it in like was the last scent on earth, i recall moving it all over my face not wanting to miss out any part of that tee, after what felt like a lifetime i liftted my head up, "ttthank you master that was incredible, you smell amazing!!" I got up, before i could take a breath my head was getting thrust towards what i can only describe as a magnificent deep sweaty hairy cavern. My head easily getting manouvered in the pit, the sweat was covering my face like drizzly rain, sniffing, licking, cleaning as i go. My head was lifted out, staring at me was a huge solid peak of muscle, "WHOOAHHHHH" thats the clean version!! Master was only half way through the first syllable of WORSHIP and i was already hands on that impressive arm, my god it felt warm and as hard as steel, my futile attempts at trying to dent it was met with a loud laugh and FUCKING WEAK BOY!!" I agreed without hesitation. Master then pushed me away, i fell against the wall. " thats all you deserve for now boy, now go and cook my food now while i shower!!" I quickly ran out and down stairs, my cock fully tenting again, but i didnt touch it as i wasnt given permission , i could have erupted soo much too!!! Anyway nothing really much happened of note after that, after i had cooked his food i was ordered to my room and told to stay there till morning as master was having friends round, and if i came out or downstairs then.....(master crackibg thick neck and knuckles!) you get the picture. Right i better leave it here as my master will be home soon and i have a 2500kcal meal to prep for him. Fingers crossed i can tell more tomorrow. Let me know what you think of my predicament!!
  12. mmvmgo2011

    Vaccinated - A Continuation

    Hi all. Been offline for WAY too long now. I hopefully have a bit of spare time again, so I’ve revisited some of the characters and continuing Vaccinated. (And, yes, I have other stories on the go - haven't forgotten.) If you haven’t read it, you’ll almost certainly get more out of this one if you read that one first. A refresher might be helpful too, as there will probably be lots of callbacks and interwoven story lines. Obviously heavy spoilers here if you haven’t yet read the first one. Consider this a continuation following on immediately from the events in the first story, before the Epilogue. Events here may or may not progress matters to the same point in that Epilogue - so a sort of alternate history. Hope you enjoy. As before, I only have a vague outline of a story - I’m making the rest of it up as I go along, so fair warning, the story could include almost anything. If you’re easily offended or triggered, then maybe avoid this one. I welcome any feedback and will work in any suggestions you might have as it goes along. Delivery will likely be a fair bit slower than in the past, but I’ll try my best to keep chapters coming in on the regular. ~~ONE~~ Jake’s timing was exquisite; perfection. He could feel the crescendo, the approaching tsunami about to break, and he wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to experience the pleasure his partner’s ejaculation was about to unleash on his dick. Undulating, peristaltic waves of muscular contractions milking his shaft, coaxing the breeding load from deep within his heaving, roiling balls. Jake’s cock fully plugged the tunnel, his cock’s sensitivity heightened by the tight embrace along the entire shaft from tip to pubic bone. He pulled back slowly, deliberately, the head of his massive cock raking against the tunnel’s walls, tweaking the prostate, eliciting a deep, resonant growl in his partner that vibrated throughout his entire body, increasing the sensations and bringing the coming flood to the brink. He stopped as the head reached the opening, enjoying the feeling of the ring of muscle quivering against his fraenulum, his partner’s growl increasing. Jake’s heavy, pendulous balls seethed, ready to unleash their prodigious load. Squatting slightly, he adjusted the angle of his cock so the head would smash his partner’s prostate as he rammed in all fourteen inches down to the pubic bone. The separate muscles of his massive quads stood out in stark relief, vascularity pulsating and engorged, the massive root running along his inner thigh branching out to feed power to every muscle. He flexed his cock, watching, enraptured, as it swelled even bigger, became even harder, the veins flooding it with blood, steeling the shaft and sending bolts of exquisite pleasure spreading throughout his godly body. Jake’s core tightened, the globes of his perfect arse contracting and squeezing as he slammed his cock in as far as it would go, and then further. As he smashed past the prostate, the tsunami was triggered. It was Jake’s turn to groan, as his partner’s orgasm and ejaculation began, massive waves spreading up his shaft, tingling, more bolts of electric pleasure sending him wild. As Jake slammed in as far as it would go, his balls slapped into his partner’s arse, his orgasm contracting and pulsating muscles throughout his pelvic floor. The hole clamped shut around the base of Jake’s shaft, a natural cock ring further swelling and hardening the already diamond-hard cock. As it swelled, his massive cock pushed harder against the walls of the tunnel, increasing the strength of the muscular contractions as it struggled to contain and eject the monster invading its depths. Jake’s eyes rolled back as his partner’s cock pumped out splashes of thick, creamy cum. As the first few arcs of cum splattered against his partner’s pecs and abs, a large glob settling in his thick, dark beard, Jake allowed himself to ejaculate, his own muscular contractions mingling with those of his partner, heightening their ecstasy. Jake’s balls, so eager to unleash their load, rose up, and his cock somehow swelled and hardened even more as his ejaculation began. The pressure exerted along the length of his cock, and especially by the ring of muscles clamped around the base of his shaft made it more difficult for his cum to make it through all fourteen inches, causing high pressure spurting jets of cum to spray deep within, the massive load contained by the swollen head plugging the tunnel. Even as they both continued ejaculating, Jake leaned in for a deep, passionate kiss, the taste of cum on his lips adding to his explosive wave of orgasms. *** “Get out,” Jake said, as he stood up and went to shower. “Fuck, mate,” he breathed heavily, still recovering from the orgasm, “you were mind blowi–” “I said, get out.” He didn’t even turn back. “Can I at least get your number? I don’t even know your name…” He trailed off, distracted by the incredible view of Jake’s naked body walking to the en suite. The X shape, his glorious arse cheeks, sitting atop massive ham-hock hamstrings, the sweep of his quads visible even from behind, his back muscles mounding and rippling as he walked, roadmap veins - everywhere he looked, splendour upon perfection. Jake ignored him. The cumrag, having served his purpose, already forgotten. Despite his swelling dick - how could you not get hard at that view, he thought? - he hurriedly dressed, the cum covering his abs and chest already drying, sticking to his shirt, and left. **** Brad, Amber and HE were sitting in Brad’s living room, regrouping and discussing the recent events and the fallout. “Can you still sense him?” Amber asked. They all knew which 'him' she was referring to. “Yes…” He hesitated, “…he’s having sex.” It was a very odd sensation, having his best friend’s subconscious as a stream in part of his brain. Despite everything, Amber and HE both blushed. Amber, in particular, was still trying to process her feelings about Jake. She could not let go of the fact that they meshed perfectly, their sex on a level she had never, and almost certainly would never, experience again. But, equally, she could not forget his treatment of her. His callous disregard, the violence against her without so much as a second thought. Yes, he was under the effects of the vaccine, but was that merely amplifying an existing tendency? She did not know, and the conflict was gnawing at her. What made it worse, she could never discuss it with him. Jake could not - must not! - ever know or be reminded of his rampage. They all feared if he learned what they did – what he did – that he would try to regain his abilities, and his reign of terror would resume. She nuzzled into Brad’s strong, comforting embrace, his Herculean arm around her. He was no Jake, it was true, but he was kind and loving, the sex was fantastic (though, of course, not the perfection she had with Jake), and his body was phenomenal. And, yet, she still could not shake the thought and feelings - he was no Jake. **** As Jake’s orgasm erupted in a corner of Brad’s brain, his own dick chubbed, and his mind wandered, lustful thoughts – of tits, of arse, of legs for days, of vascularity and muscle – flooded his brain, like cumshots pumping hot man cream, flooding holes. Amber nuzzled into him, the feel of her pert, luscious tits pressing into him causing lustful fire to tingle through him, making a beeline for his cock. He smiled. Not for the first time he silently thanked Jake, his best friend and, in many ways, his saviour. If Jake had not convinced him to break his vow of celibacy, he would not have met Amber. Not since Angelina had he felt such feelings for a woman. Amber would never replace Angelina - nobody ever could - but Amber was a mighty fine substitute.
  13. (So, this is the first time I found the courage to post a little story I’ve written recently. English isn’t my primary language so hopefully the story is readable. Enjoy and let me know what you think.) LUKE - part 1: THE RECORDING Dylan and Matt were best friends. Always sharing everything together. “Hey dude” Matt said. “I found this file on the web that says it contains the deepest voice ever recorded. No footage, only audio.” Dylan looked at his best friend to see if he was joking again. But apparently Matt was very serious. “I’m sure our girlfriends would love us to have a super deep voice, hehe” A moment later they both sat down and started the audio file on Dylan’s tablet. Some voice over started explaining a few facts about the audio file. “Listen carefully. This recording contains the voice of a minor. There used to be video footage to, but it has been removed because it was too obscene. Too revealing. And most people could no handle what they were seeing. Also keep in mind that the voice on this recording is not meant for male audiences. Listen to it on your own risk.” Matt and Dylan looked at each other. They only noticed the last too sentences. “Why would they say it’s not for male audiences?” Matt asked Dylan. “I have no idea, but to be honest, it actually makes me more curious.” Dylan answered. “So let’s continue. The file continued. It started a count down. 3…2…1 “Hi” an incredibly deep voice boomed through the computer speakers. Matt and Dylan were both erect when they heard the hyper manly voice. “My name is Luke and I just turned 18.” The incredibly deep voice continued shaking the two friend’s senses. “That voice…it’s…oh fuck…so m-manly.” Matt said, while he stroked his dick through his pants. Dylan was already openly stroking his cock after he took off his jeans. He was breathing heavily. What happened next is something both boys could not have imagined… “I’m your alpha.” the voice said, causing Matt to stick out his tongue and open his pants to jerk off his cock too. “Your superior.” making both boys drool, and their cocks leak tons of pre. “Your god.” which made the boys empty their balls with a seemingly endless supply of cum. They kept cumming for two minutes straight. “And now…” the monstrously deep voice continued “…you are mine. If you are a girl, your tits might have grown bigger and your butt more bubbly. Your body adapted to look more beautiful for me. And if you are a guy, your body has realized how manly I am. Turning you into a horny, weak little gay boy. Submitting to me. Forgetting about your lover, because I am the one you really want. Becoming horny whenever you only think about this recording. Your cock spurting cum when hearing the slightest rumbling sound of my voice. You are all MINE” The recording ended. Matt and Dylan kept cumming endlessly while hearing the rest of the audio file. They were kissing each other and moaning uncontrollably, only to pass out next to each other. The recording was programmed to send itself to all contacts that were available on Dylan’s tablet……..
  14. BrutalPowerDemon

    THE AWAKENING

    (WARNING! Extreme brutality and snuff. All characters over 18. If you know this to be offensive to you, don't read! Otherwise, enjoy the story.) THE AWAKENING I’m Brad, a lanky, tall-for-my-age white guy starting at a new high school comprised of students eighteen and older. I was a bit nervous, of course, and it didn’t help that I was just really beginning to understand my sexual cravings for massive, cut, and vascular muscles coupled with dominance and power. I had found myself drawn to magazines, entertainment, and art depicting the tallest and most massive, and muscle-bulging, thickly veined men. My cock always responded by lurching in a feeble attempt to feel the size and hardness of the hyper-masculine monsters to which I was drawn. I lusted not only to be in the presence of such manly beasts, but to see them use their power in the most gruesome of ways.be such a fearsome creature. I went to my assigned home-room and quickly found my seat amongst the other kids. My home-room teacher, a hulking, muscular black man, sat at his desk as the students found their seats. Of course, my eyes were glued to the dark-skinned, mid-twenties-year-old teacher as he took roll and droned on. His handsome face, thick, muscular neck, and bulging pectorals and biceps stretched his clothing and left nothing to the imagination. His form and authority excited both of my heads’ rapt attention as butterflies fluttered in my gut and superheated blood began to flood my loins. My dick throbbed larger and harder with each beat of my pounding heart. The bell rang and I filed out of the room with the other kids, backpack hiding my raging hard-on, to head to my first class. Passing by a room, I glanced in and saw an absolutely massive young Asian boy, Korean I thought, and possessing stunningly handsome features from head to exposed toes. He stood at least seven feet tall and powerful muscles rippled over his entire superlative body! He was surrounded by other kids, all much smaller, of course, as he spoke to one a little shorter than my five feet, ten and a half inch height, but much more muscular than I. I heard his deep voice, cocky and condescending as he spoke, and, apparently with good reason as both his physical and mental superiority was clear..I stepped into the room and stared at the unbelievably handsome, dark-skinned behemoth whose size and obvious strength reminded me of a powerfully muscled bull. My mouth went dry as my semi-hard cock, still concealed by my backpack, rocketed to full attention, once again.. The kingly Korean boy wore a t-shirt stretched tight over his magnificent torso, every muscle-fiber danced beneath his shirt and visibly rippled with unimaginable power. He wore shorts that couldn’t possibly obscure the huge sex-muscle that arched out and down at the crotch, straining the zipper holding his clearly outlined mass of flaccid manhood and large, churning testicles back. A girl that had shuffled in behind me moaned longingly, “Amazing, isn’t he? That’s Kang-dae. It’s inconceivable that he’s just turned eighteen, isn’t it?.” I nodded my head in agreement of her perception. Then I heard the kid Kang-dae was talking to, whose name I later learned was Wesley, raise his voice and state emphatically to Kang-dae, “FINE! Let’s do it now, you fucking FREAK.” Kang-dae’s dark eyes twinkled as a wide, toothy grin spread across his stunning face. “You sure, you puny little runt? You think you can beat THIS in an arm-wrestling match?” his rumbling, deep voice boomed as he raised his massive arms and flexed. The bottom of his t-shirt rose up majestically to reveal the thickly corrugated rows of abdominal muscles rippling beneath his venous skin. His enormous biceps and triceps snapped to attention and pumped larger and harder than any muscles I had ever seen . . . even on pictures of the roided bodybuilders my cock frequently drooled over in magazines and on the bodybuilding shows I watched on TV.! The magnitude of his bulk that rippled and writhed as he twisted his thick, bowling-pin like forearms back and forth was mind-boggling. He clearly admired his own muscular beauty and expected others to do the same. His shirt sleeves slowly tore away from his brawn’s assault on the flimsy fabric straining to cover his biceps and triceps as they popped into solid, thick diminsionality, exposing more dark, hard, and venous flesh. The meaning of K-POP changed in my lustful brain in an instant. Kang-dae walked over to a table and knelt down, thumping an elbow down on the table top as Wesley did the same on the other side of the table. As they knelt, I couldn’t help but notice Kang-dae’s massive feet as his heals raised up from his huge flip-flops he wore to contain his pervasive stompers. Wesley’s muscular arm looked like a twig eclipsed by the undulating brawn of Kang-dae’s muscle-hulking arm. I gasped as Wesley’s hand was engulfed in Kang-dae’s monstrous palm. “Are you SURE you want to arm-wrestle me, you pathetic little wuss? You look like a stick man compared to me. HA!” Kang-dae taunted as windows overlooking the courtyard rattled. “You know I could effortlessly snap you in two like a worthless little dry twig, right?” he continued, his large, pearly-white teeth exposed in a sardonic grin. Wesley now looked less cocky and more nervous as the muscles in his own arm bunched and hardened. It was now obvious to him that there was no comparison between he and KD (which I quickly decided that was how I would refer to Kang-dae, if he permitted). Wesley’s arm truly was puny compared to Kang-dae’s overpowering musculature. Wesley’s lips became tight as he strained, the veins on his neck and arms throbbing larger. Kang-dae looked down into the rattled boy’s eyes, “When do you want to start, my new little BITCH.” Kang-dae grinned as he licked his full lips. Wesley’s eyes grew wide as he felt KD begin to exert pressure. “Never mind, Kang-dae! I concede. I have no doubt you could fuck me up . . .BAD! I’m sorry I gave you shit, man.” he blurted as he tried to pull his hand away. Kang’s thigh-thick arm suddenly exploded with muscle as a loud CRRRAACK echoed through the room. “No take-backs, pussy.” KD rumbled intently as his fist slammed the smaller boy’s hand into the table as he closed his eyes, licked his full lips, and grinned evily. Wesley’s mouth dropped in a silent scream as his forearm simply snapped in two under Kang-dae’s inhuman power, his bone tearing through his flesh. Blood splattered the colossal Asian as he grinned and moaned in pleasure, licking some of Wesely’s blood away that had splattered onto his lips. His other huge hand lowered and rubbed his expanding, long, thick cock through his tight shorts. My own hard, throbbing cock bucked repeatedly as cum erupted into my shorts in dizzying bursts, soaking through the fabric and dripping down my leg as I dropped the books that had concealed my lustful reaction to such disdainful, remorseless use of unfettered superiority.. “God DAMN!” buzzed through the room as the kids witnessing the event scattered and bolted towards the door. Wesley seemed to lose consciousness as Kang-dae’s dark-maned head slowly turned and his coal-black eyes bored into my soul. His rumbling voice ordered, “Go get the nurse, boy . . .“ The giant Korean boy’s eyes lowered to my soaked and tented crotch with jizz dripping down my leg and he smirked knowingly, “. . . you puny little faggot. If you liked watching me fuck that little wimp over? You’ll REALLY like what I have to fuck you with, pussy-boy.” he taunted knowingly as his huge hand only partially encircled his enormous shaft through his shorts and squeezed seductively. “Meet me under the bleachers by the football field after school.” he ordered. “Now, MOVE IT!” I felt my face flush as “Holy SHIT! You’re a fucking GOD, KD!” gushed from my lips. He grinned knowingly at me as I absentmindedly grabbed my re-erecting dick. “Whatever you say, Sir.” I responded lustfully as I picked up my books and turned to go get the nurse. I looked over my shoulder as Kang-dae smiled broadly and dipped a long, thick finger into Wesley’s blood pooling on the table. He lifted it to his lips, and licked with his awe-inspiring tongue. Another shot of jizz rocketed from my worshipful dick as I ran into the door frame, quickly composed myself, and exited the room. I didn’t know what happened after I got the nurse and went to my first class (after ducking into a restroom to clean up my cum-soaked shorts). All morning, visions of the impossibly muscled Asian Adonis accosted my brain. My mind’s eye invariably witnessed the mighty Kang-dae growing into a titanic, brutal, and blood-thirsty muscle-bound giant relishing and getting off on using his godly size and power to decimate all those smaller and weaker . . . EVERYONE! After lunch, I headed to gym class. I opened the gym doors and gasped in utter awe and disbelief. I glanced in to witness the muscular brawn of sheer, flawless masculinity lift the base of his shredded t-shirt before tearing it from his thick, rippling, and powerful muscle-bod. Kang-dae now stood shirtless by the basketball court bleachers, his thick, powerful muscles bulging and rippling with primal, vein-encased superiority. His massive palms encircled the thick necks of two of the more muscular boys standing around him in awe. He began effortlessly curling them alternately with his powerful arms, biceps bulging with each rep as the boys uselessly struggled and flailed about in the Asian muscle-beast’s unyielding grasp. After finishing with that apparently light arm workout, he tossed his two living dumbbells aside as if they weighed nothing at all. He then dropped down to the floor. I gasped at the thickness of his back and triceps as he began to easily knock out push ups, his barrel-like chest rippling with muscle. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him . . . absolutely lusting to see this young beast unleash his carnal savagery upon more inferior human creatures. The coach, looking down at a pad he carried, entered the court from his office in the locker room connected to the basketball court/gym and barked, “Time to change into your gym clothes, boys.” He glanced up and saw Kang-dae’s herculean body being raised and lowered by thigh-thick, bulging arms. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the whale-hung mass of superior masculinity continuing to knock out push-up reps, the boy’s prodigious manhood mashing into the floor every time the herculean lad lowered his magnificent body.. Kang-dae looked me in the eyes, stood, and lifted his inhumanly thick, muscled arms. He grinned, lowered his arms, and ripped his shorts off, leaving him standing bare in his swole beauty and godly superiority. This Korean god’s cock was a thing of utterly destructive size, hardness, and vein-pulsing beauty . . . even soft! KD’s mostly flaccid penis was larger than my arm and pulsing pre-cum prodigiously. It was his most mesmerizing muscle exuding unquenchable virility, unstoppable power, and undeniable dominance. It personified the deadly disdain verbalized as he turned to the coach and roared, “FUCK YOU, you pathetic little excuse for a man!!! I do as I please, do you understand me, little man?” The group of students were rooted to the spot. They were unable to take their eyes off of the powerful teen demeaning the brash coach. I couldn’t help but envision this hyper-masculine, swole, and behemothic teen being more . . . more massive, more powerful, more sadistically perverse. As I watched in enthusiastically aroused awe and lustful craving, the impossible dream began to become reality before our eyes!. Kang-dae’s already mind-boggling muscular bulk began to bloat and balloon, ripple and enlarge. He threw his head back, his trapezius muscles bulged and rose from his back and shoulders framing his thick muscle-neck, large Adam’s-apple bobbing as he swallowed and moaned, “Oh, FUCK! I feel AWESOME!” The colossal boy began to inch upward, his huge feet began to lengthen, sliding across the floor as he expanded. His already inhumanly sized cock throbbed larger until it was six feet or more of thick, muscular flesh oozing of pure, manly sexuality. I fell to my knees as if they had been kicked out from under me. I was drooling with worshipful desire as the totally nude, titanic muscle-teen stepped towards the speechless coach, his engorging, man-sized cock slapping from one massive, muscular thigh to the other as his voluminous nuts churned, perpetually aching for release. His monstrous arms and obscenely protruding chest muscles rippled and ballooned with absolute dominion. Without a second thought, the coach stripped out of his clothing as if by instinct (as did the small group of students mesmerized by Kang-dae’s scaling larger and larger until he towered over us all at a dizzying twenty-five feet tall. His head brushed against the steel rafters of the gym area of the basketball court.. Kang-dae reached down and wrapped his enormous fingers around the stunned coach’s waist, and lifted him effortlessly to his stunning face. The coach, and all of us, breathed in the testosterone-laden musk of Kang-dae’s unstoppable manly strength as the boy’s voice rumbled, “I can actually taste your admiration, fear, and envy, you puny little mortals” Glaring at the trembling coach in his fist, he continued, “You do what I say, without question nor hesitation, pencil dick. You like that, don’t you boi? Someone with TRUE power telling you what to do. Yeah, bitch . . . it’s clear you want to please a REAL man and submit to my unrivaled superiority, you expendable little bug.” Without thinking, Coach stretched his arms wide, reaching out, and placed his hands on Kang’s immense mounds of rippling pectoral muscle, straining to reach far enough to cup the dark, sizeable tits. They would easily have filled each palm to overflowing. “Yes, SIR!” he assented worshipfully, his lust to feel the power of this young colossus overwhelming his ability to resist his base desires. The awe-struck man began to breathe in short, ragged gasps. Kang-dae grinned and slowly flexed his immense pecs, Coach felt the expanse of hot, hard pectorals of the Korean titan expand and harden like boulders. “Holy fucking CHRIST!” the coach blurted as he buried his face in the cavernous cleavage between those rolling, godly pecs, kissing the dark, smooth flesh of his new master. Kang-dae leaned down to coach’s ear, his thick, sensuous lips teasing it as he whispered commandingly, “Cum for your muscle-god, my puny little faggot-bitch.” Coach’s dick obeyed immediately, bypassing his brain completely. A muffled, “Oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” left his lips as the now enslaved little man’s dick obeyed instantly, coating Kang-dae’s fingers with volleys of jizz. Coach still lapped at Kang-dae’s smooth, dark flesh as the beastly teen lightly flexed his pectorals, trapping coach’s head as in a vise. As the titan relaxed his bone-crushing flex, Coach looked up into the muscle-beast’s dark, Asian eyes. “I know what you want, you pathetic little muscle-slut.” the giant boy purred knowingly. The coach shook his head as if coming out of a trance and began to struggle uselessly in Kang-dae’s powerful grasp. “KANG-DAE!” the heavily muscled twenty-something year old coach barked, “W-W-W-Who are . . . W-W-WHAT the fuck ARE YOU?“ Kang-dae grinned, his massive, snow-white teeth glistening behind his full lips as he thundered, “A FUCKING GOD TO BE FEARED AND SERVED, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE WASTE OF FLESH!” The colossal Korean’s eyes narrowed with annoyance. His face darkened and his muscles erupted in glorious size and power. My heart began racing as his mighty fist began to constrict around the coach’s little body. Kang raised his free arm and flexed while turning and licking the thick, pulsing veins snaking over his massive biceps. He then pursed his full lips, turned his head on a thick, corded neck, traps again rising like mountains on either side, and loudly kissed that hardened mound of powerful muscle, fibers visibly inundating beneath his smooth, dark skin. He flexed his sequoian cock, hose-thick veins flooding with size-building volume, pulsing larger, thicker, longer. More ore pre-cum bubbled forth and roped to the gym floor. Two of the boys from the group that were openly out of the closet bolted to in-between Kang-dae’s massive feet and torso-thick, diamond-shaped calves and fell on their hands and knees. They leaned down and began lapping at the salty-sweet, godly nectar Kang-dae’s mighty fuck spire pulsed forth. “Do you REALLY want to piss THIS off, you fucking insect?” he seethed ominously to the now flailing little coach. He shook the little man who flapped about in his fist like a powerless little rag-doll. The stunned coach choked out, “KANG-DAE! W-w-w-what the HELL are you d-d-doing? Stop. PLEASE!” even as his eyes bulged out of their sockets beholding such a massive, powerful, teen titan in complete and total control and sexually stimulated by his supreme power over the inferior mortals around him. Kang-dae felt the throbbing re-expansion of the coach’s little dick in his fist. He lowered his mighty arm, partially encircling the girth of his own cock with his massive free fist. He looked the coach in the eyes and rumbled, “You weak, pitiful little BITCH! You WANT to please me, don’t you, you little man-cunt?” he rumbled as he began to slowly stroke his throbbing mass of man-meat. “Who do you think the REAL ALPHA is here, you inconsequential little worm? EVERYTHING about you is weak and puny compared to THIS!” he thundered as he flexed his swole body, detonating with thick, mind-blowing and brutal power. He released his cock and wagged the enormous appendage back and forth, slinging pre-cum onto the remaining group of students. All of the students had already stripped bare and fallen to their knees in complete submission to their godly classmate.. Their dicks were rigid in worshipful recognition of their utter inferiority to such brutal and sensual masculinity clearly evidenced in the titanic body, mind, and soul of the beastly GOD towering over them. Their emasculation was complete and total from just being in his godly and terrifying presence. They scooped up handfuls of the giant’s pre-cum that had just splattered upon them and began to use the hot liquid as the most effective cock-lube to ever exist. They began to moan, “Oh, GOD! You ARE a GOD. There is NONE as powerful as you are, Kang-dae!” Coach turned bright red and began drooling and choking as pressure continued to slowly build in Kang-dae's mighty fist. “How long have you wanted to witness TRUE POWER, you worthless little mite. HA! HA! HA!” Kang-dae bellowed as he lowered the sputtering little coach to his thick and twitching, man-sized cock. “Even my COCK is larger and more powerful than you are, you puny little creature. You DARED to attempt to exert authority over ME? You are INFERIOR to me in every fucking way, you damned little pest. FUCK YOU!” Coach looked confused and trapped, yet his dick responded to the size, power, and superior mental domination of the creature that was toying with him. His throbbing dick exploded once again in a rapturous orgasm within Kang-dae’s crushing fist. Kang-dae’s face darkened, once again, “You DARE to use me for your own pleasure, dick weed? You exist for MINE!” he growled. I heard my voice blurt out, “Oh, FUCK, KD! You are SO fucking HOT! Don’t hold anything back! Show us what you can do. Coach is nothing but a fuckiing bug to you! FUCK him! You are a GOD! Show us what a true MUSCLE-GOD does to ANYONE he chooses. PLEASE!” I heard my voice pleading lustfully. “I live to serve YOU, Almighty Kang-dae!” The other boys looked at me, first in horror, but then in lustful agreement. Now out of my own clothing, as well, my rigid, rock-hard dick saluted such manly, muscular vorocity and power. I crawled to one of Kang-dae’s expansive feet and began to kiss him, lapping at the hot, salty-sweet pre-cum dripping from his towering cock throbbing hard above me. “Oh, YEAH, I remember you, puny little faggot! You were POWERLESS and shot your load looking at me snap Wesley’s arm like a brittle little twig earlier. I KNEW you were mine as soon as I saw you blow your load to supreme superiority and unconstrained, pitiless power. LOOK AT ME NOW, CUM DUMP! Somehow, I believe you have helped me reach this landmark, you sick little bitch. And this is just the beginning! You really want to see what I can do, don’t you, pathetic little muscle-slut?” he derided me as he placed the coaches tiny little, muscled ass over his impossibly large and pre-cum flowing mushroom cock-head. “Oh, GOD, YES! PLEASE! Be the brutally cruel and savage exterminator of inferior fucks that I know you are!” I sputtered as I reached down and began to stroke my hard, pulsing dick in his thick, slippery pre-cum. “I know that we are all just playthings for your amusement and sexual pleasure. SHOW US what you REALLY ARE, devastatingly savage Kang-Dae!” I begged lustfully. I could hear coach’s muffled screams, begging for release from the beast toying with him so effortlessly. Kang-dae looked me in the eyes and rumbled, “Oh, FUCK YEAH, you worshipful, horny little bug!” as he exerted a downward force on the coach. A cock-head with more girth that th coaches body touched the coaches ass and he began to scream maniacally. “Oh, GOD! NOOOO!” he wailed as KD grinned. The horny beasy began twisting Coach’s fighting body onto his magnificent cock. Coach’s voice became a shrill, piercing, almost female scream, as his ass was slowly stretched and split to make room for KD’s much larger and more powerful cock. His pelvis split and skin tore as the puny little body distorted and stretched to make room for the titan’s hungry sex organ, throbbing and pulsing majestically as the quickly becoming human condom assumed the shape of the monstrous cock brutally invading it. The muffled sounds of screaming began dying away as the slurpy snapping and smashing of bones an flesh echoed throughout the cavernous space of the court/gym. KD then simply thrust his cock through the man’s body, exploding through the neck as the corpse’s head lulled to the side, unseeing eyes still agape in terror. The almighty KD released his twitching cock fully embedded in the coach’s bloody, mashed and shattered remains. Its flesh was stretched around the vein-mapped cock so tight that the cock’s vein-mapped shaft’s pulsing veins were clearly visible. Legs splayed out at the colossal cock’s base as arms jiggled about further up the shaft. “Puny, fucking little fleshlight.” Kang-dae, growled as he encircled his horny fuck-trunk, squeezed hard, and again began to stroke. The worthless remains of the coach quickly began to tear away and flop to the floor in torn and liquified pieces mixed with the godly pre-cum of the ever-horny teen titan using it as a bloody cock lube. One of the larger students shuffled towards Kang-dae while wildly stroking his dick. “Oh, my GOD, Kang-dae! You ARE power, brutally sensual and uncaring. I fucking want to be like you! To FEEL such deadly strength and omnipotent supremacy!” “HA! HA! HA!” Kang-dae roared. “You STUPID little worm! FEEL my ruthless, sadistic power, you ignorant fucking BUG!” he thundered lustfully as he snatched the now cowaring little teen from the floor in his gore-dripping fist, encircling his head and torso. Muffled screams filled the air as he encircled the doomed little creature’s lower half in his other fist, growled demonically and flicked his wrists down in opposite directions. A loud CRACK echoed through the gymnasium as the puny boy’s body was effortlessly snapped in two like a fucking dry twig by this powerful Korean boy-god. His inhuman muscles ballooned in size and hardness as he pulled the doomed little man’s body apart effortlessly with a squishy RRIIIP as his back and shoulder muscles swelled and hardened majestically. Blood and gore splattered his rippling chest and dripped down over his cobblestone abdominals, throbbing cock, me, and my two pre-cum lapping, lustful classmates. Blood poured from the muscle-beast’s fists as his dancing muscles exerted the immense pressure necessary to compact the foolish boy’s remains to a squishy paste in his deadly fists. “FUCKING COCKROACH” he rumbled as he tossed the two halves of what remained of the snuffed teenager aside like so much garbage. The gelatinous remains slid across the gym floor, impacting the walls at opposite sides of the gym with a squishy SPLAT while leaving a telltale crimson trail of blood across the floor.. I was now drooling onto the Asian god’s large, manly feet and my mind couldn’t help but picture this perfect, young mountain of muscle becoming more of the callous, death-dealing giant than he had already proved, beyond ANY doubt, that he was. He knew he was unstoppable and, quite obviously, lusted to become more. Trembling, I looked up as he scooped some of the coach’s and ignorant teen’sremains into his massive hand, lifted the blood-dripping mitt to his full, thick lips and extended his tongue to lap at a gorey snack. I blurted out worshipfully, “Holy FUCK! You ARE the sadistic and bloodthirsty muscle-BEAST I have had dreams about since I was a kid! It is YOU! NOTHING can stop you, my GOD, from eradicating the inferior vermin that can only annoy such perfection as only you are. I pledge myself to you and praise you for what you are: A TERRIFYING GOD OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION!!” I gushed worshipfully. The shocked boys were still on their knees in fear and awe, rigid dicks in hand, and drooling at the brutal, unrestrained power of the swole muscle giant standing over them. Kang-dae looked down over his protruding, gravity-defying mounds of pectoral beef at me, the two pre-cum sucking sluts, and the other dozen or so boys, dicks in hands, drooling up at the beastly teen titan. GOD grinned. “Does anyone here have a problem with me?” the impossibly brawny behemoth growled as he continued lapping blood and gore from his homicidally violent hands.. Everyone, including me, answered almost in unison, “No, Kang-dae!” One of the openly gay teens that had been feasting on Kang-dae’s pre-cum stood and addressed Kang-dae, “Almighty, Divine, and Fearsome Kang-dae, I long to feel your power, to touch your flesh, to bring you pleasure!” The other jumped up and begged, “Please, my GOD! I wish to please you, as well. Accept me as an offering to herald your omnipotent sovereignty over all.” Emboldened, one of the previously straight weightlifting students stood, stroking his raging erection. “I have wanted to please you ever since I first saw you, Kang-dae. But now, holy FUCK! I also want to feel your power. I always thought you were a god, but, oh FUCK! You ARE a GOD! PLEASE, GOD, allow me to be of use to you!!” the muscled teen begged, almost prayerfully. At that moment, the double gym doors swung open and the hunky, black homeroom teacher strode into the gym talking on his cell phone, eyes on the floor as he walked. He turned off his cell phone and looked up when he reached where the boys were gathered on their knees gawking upward, erect dicks in hand. “What the HELL is going on here, boys?” he stuttered before turning around and looking up in the same direction as the boys. He beheld the thick, swole teen smirking down at him, full, rounded muscles rippling beneath the smooth, vein-mapped brown skin. His mouth dropped open as his eyes roamed the expanse of hard, bulging muscle packed on this Asian teen giant. He saw smears of red on the masses of pectoral muscle and rippling abdominals. A muscle cock larger than his body throbbed and roped pre-cum to the floor. The teacher was barely knee high to this powerful looking teen beast, and the boy’s muscled calves were thicker than the teacher-s buff torso. “Kang-dae?” he whimpered as his hand reached out to feel the hard, smooth skin stretched over the behemoth’s massive split calf muscle. It was solid and hot to the touch, muscle fiber rippling beneath the teacher’s quaking palm. “Jesus Christ! How can you be . . . what’s happening . . . y-y-y-you . . . what have you done!” he stuttered out. “Join us, little man. Strip out of your clothes.” Kang-dae rumbled authoritatively. “Young man . . . ” the now worried teacher protested, but his mind went blank as he looked up at the large, inhumanly handsome young titan flexing over him, and the twitching, pulsing cock containing more muscle than flexed in his puny little body. “NOW!” Kang-dae thundered, shattering the basketball backboards with just the powerful vibration of his voice. The teacher quickly disrobed, muscles bulging beneath his obsidian skin. His nine inch, flaccid dick hung over large balls nestled between his muscular thighs. The teacher glanced around trying to figure a way to get himself and the other students away from this powerful, colossal muscle boy. It was then that he noticed the streaks of blood on the floor and apparent nearly liquified body parts splattered against the wall. He looked to the opposite wall and saw the same. “Shit! What have you done? This is IMPOSSIBLE! What in God’s name ARE you?” he bleated. Kang-dae’s eyes narrowed as he rumbled, “What have I done? Look at me!” he smirked as he flexed his inconceivable, awe-inspiring tonnage of thick, rounded musculature, his entire body exploding with rock-solid, rippling masses of muscle, hose-thick throbbing veins pulsing over every surface. His bloody, mansized fuck muscle twitched over beachball sized, churning nuts, spurting steaming pre-cum onto the naked teacher. “I do whatever the FUCK I want, you puny piece of fuck-meat!” he bellowed. He smirked as he continued, “And what in God’s name am I? HA! HA! HA! I am YOUR GOD, your pretentious little prick, and your God’s name is Kang-dae . . . now . . . KNEEL BEFORE ME!” he commanded thunderously, his tone turning angry. The teacher’s bladder released at such sights and sounds. As piss flowed from his cock, Kang-dae’s steaming hot pre-cum roped down onto the teacher’s thickly muscled, obsidian body. He raised an arm and wiped the salty liquid from his eyes, opening them to see the godly boy flexing over him. His knees buckled as if in direct obedience to the boy-god commanding him. His pissing cock rocketed to worshipful attention and he couldn’t help but slowly stroke his rock-hard, ample shaft using the giant’s slippery pre-cum even as he lapped at the liquid covering his face. “W-W-W-Where is C-C-Coach?” the teacher inquired quietly. Kang-dae lifted a hand towards his rippling, corrugated abs, each brick of muscle larger than several concrete blocks combined. He slid his fingers against his flesh, up and over the cliffs of his pecs, scooping blood onto his fingers. The titanic teen leaned forward and held his bloody fingers in front of the teacher’s face. “He was the first of many to succumb to my will and the fulfillment of my desires.” With that, Kang-dae lifted his fingers to his thick lips, extended his long, thick tongue, and lapped the blood from his fingers. As the teacher saw the teen beast lap the blood from his fingers, and grin a bloody grin, his cock exploded in ecstatic orgasm, his seed sailing up and onto Kang-dae’s lip. Kang-dae stood back up and eyed the still cumming little man. “I see you approve, fragile little insect.” He then licked the insects cum from his lip, looked into the eyes of the embarrassed and ashamed little teacher, “You taste good, little man. You may be of service to me in maintaining all this muscle mass, puny little cum dump! Now, you can observe how those who pledge themselves to me are rewarded. I think it will really please you. ”Now, who is first. Oh, yes,” he looked at the boy that first stood and asked to touch his flesh, to feel his power. He leaned forward, once again, extended his thick rippling arm, and encircled the trembling little teen in his fist. Everyone saw the boy immediately begin humping inside Kang-dae’s lightly clenched fist. Kang-dae brought the boy to his belly-button and pressed him against his flesh beneath his palm, face first. The grateful boy rubbed the hot muscle-flesh and began kissing it as he resumed humping. Kang-dae began sliding his little body up his abdominals slowly, over the deep ridges of his rippling ab muscles. The boy blurted out, “Oh, my GOD! So much MUSCLE! So HARD and POWERFUL! I BEG YOU to let me serve you, Kang-Dae, ALL the days of my life! I pray to bring you pleasure, MY GOD!” He looked up to see Kang-dae’s drop-dead-gorgeous face, but his view was obstructed by the incredibly thick overhang of his God’s powerful pectoral muscles. He felt his body continuing to be rubbed up against Kang-dae’s magnificent torso, his own head and torso sliding into the hot, sweaty cleavage of the titan so effortlessly using him. The rest of Kang-dae’s playthings were watching in awe of how easily the titanic teen was moving the little body up his muscled chest. They were dumbfounded when they saw Kang-dae lightly flex his pec’s, completely enveloping the small boy’s head and torso between the masses of muscle. Kang-dae then removed his hand, leaving the boy suspended in front of his grinding abs and held in place by his light pectoral flexion. The worshipful little toy’s legs began kicking frantically. Kang-dae lowered his hand and began to slowly stroke his massive shaft. More pre-cum bubbled forth, streaming down onto the other two who had begged to please him. The titan grinned an evil grin, leaned forward and grabbed the second teen that had begged to please him. The first teen continued kicking wildly, his head, torso, and arms pinned in the deep cleavage formed between Kang-dae’s masses of rippling, immovable pectoral muscle. The titanic muscle teen stopped stroking his throbbing fuck muscle and laid the second teen on top of the shaft. “Pleasure me, boy!” he thundered. The grateful little boy-toy wrapped his arms and legs as far around the hard, vein-mapped girth of Kang-dae’s cock and began rubbing and humping with all his might. He breathed out lustfully, “So massive, hard, and hot! Your God-cock would fuck the life out of anything it impaled. MY GOD! You are PERFECT in every way! How can I ever please you, Mighty Kang-dae?” he praised and begged all at the same time. Kang-dae grinned and licked his voluminous lips as he encircled his cock with one powerful fist, and the boy riding it. He began to slowly stroke. The remaining toys gawked at the sensual, sadistic display of Kand-dae’s total control over them and gasped in lustful awe as they saw him slowly begin to flex his chest muscles further. At the same time, they noticed his stroking arm begin to harden and balloon with flexing muscle. The teacher began pumping his cock and raspily blurted, “Holy FUCKING CHRIST! Oh, my GOD! YESSSS!” I looked over at the hunky black teacher, sweating profusely as he stroked. I walked over to him and inserted my hand into his cleavage. “Feel what he feels, you sick fuck!” I encouraged. Immediately, I felt my hand compressed by the power of this man’s pecs flexing around my flesh and bone. I looked up at Kang-dae. He had a brutal, lustful look on his face that was both terrifying and hot as fuck. His deep, guttural voice pronounced, “THIS is how you serve me, puny bugs . . . THIS is how you please me, weak, ignorant insects. BEHOLD!” With that, his planetary pectorals solidified into unyielding masses of granite hard muscle. The plaything pinned within the cleavage instantaneously compressed to mush in and his head and torso’s liquefied remains sprayed from the space that no longer existed between those rippling, deadly mountains of power. God alternately flexed those muscular masses, masticating and obliterating any remnants of the boy’s physical existence. Blood, brains, and gore dripped from the obliterated cleavage of the muscle-beast titan and ran down his abs.While still stroking the other little worshiper against his pulsing cock, he lifted his free hand and snatched the twitching legs still dangling from his hungry pectorals. He looked the teacher crushing my hand between his pectorals and grinned. “You like, little muscle-slut? THIS is power, bitch!” he smiled as his stroking arm exploded with size. There was a short yelp as the crunching and breaking of bones could be heard from the fist compressing the second teen to a liquified, gritty lube for Kang-dae’s stroking pleasure. Blood flowed from between those powerful fingers and pieces of the boy’s disintegrating body flopped down upon us. Kang-dae tossed the first boy’s legs aside in disgust. “You are ALL such puny and fragile little playthings!” The teacher starting cumming uncontrolably, his cock bucking wildly in dry orgasm until blood started spurting. He released his pec-hold on my hand, grabbed my skull and thrust his spasming cock down my throat, skull fucking me as he drooled, staring up at his GOD jacking his man-sized, blood covered cock. The third teen, the bodybuilder, was blubbering, “Oh, my GOD! Oh, my GOD! Oh, FUUUUUCCKKKK!!!” Kang-dae grinned down at him. “Are YOU ready to serve me, puny little pussy-boy. . . to PLEASE me?” he snarled. The boy looked terrified and turned to run, but the teacher POPPED his cock from my mouth, grabbed the fleeing teen and shoved him towards Kang Dae. “My offering to you, Kang Dae, my savage and merciless GOD!” Kang-dae grinned, reached down and snatched the bodybuilder teen from the floor and lifted him to his face. He stopped stroking his cock and lifted that hand, dripping with blood infused pre-cum, and set the teen in his palm. “Stand, boy.” Kang-dae ordered. The thickly muscled teen stood, trembling. “You look to be a sturdier toy than the first two, you puny little insect. Show me your biceps, like this.” The teen titan raised one arm and flexed, his biceps and triceps leaping to rock-hard mounds of inhuman muscle as large as a car.. Even though scared shitless, the boy’s ample dick rocketed to attention and saluted GOD. He moaned in lust to be able to be so brutal and barbaric, he yearned for such size, such power, and he moaned, “My GOD! I am yours. I live to please you!” as, standing in Kang-dae’s palm, he raised his arms and flexed as hard as he could. Kang-dae lifted the flexing little muscle-teen to his face and examined his muscular little body. He pursed his lips and blew, his hot, bloody breath wafting over the teen who immediately erupted in another orgasmic expulsion of semen. Kang-dae grinned, exposing his massive teeth before extending his tongue and licking the boy’s rigid cock and balls and, indeed, his entire body since it was so small in comparison to KD’s tongue. “Pathetic, you worthless little cunt. Feel what a REAL muscle feels like.” Kang-dae smirked as he moved his hand holding the boy over to his flexed biceps. “Climb on, puny little pussy boy.” The little bodybuilder gushed, “OH! Thank you, my GOD!” as he climbed onto the rippling, vein encased mound of muscle. “Oh, GOD! So MASSIVE, HOT, and HARD.” He mounted the titan’s colossal arm and began to grind, his little body sliding into the space between the biceps and the forearm. Kang-dae grinned and slowly brought his forearm up, trapping the lustful teen between his muscular forearm and rising biceps. The teen began to compress from the crotch upwards he screeched as his cock and balls were crushed flat and exploded. The pain was too great for screaming as his hips were pulverized. “THAT, puny maggot, is powerful muscle!” Kang-dae chuckled as, with his free hand, he lifted the boy with two fingers clenched onto his muscled little abs. He brought the crippled and crying teen to his lips as he grinned a devilish grin and licked. “You wanted to serve me? You will . . . as a protein rich snack, muscle-toy!” “NOOOOO!” shrieked the broken teen bodybuilder as Kang-dae inserted the boy’s head and shoulders into his mouth and exposed his massive teeth before biting down, cutting the cry’s short as he severed the muscled little teens upper body at just below his pecs. Blood spurted from between his teeth as he positioned that first bite between his molars, clenched his jaws an CRUNCHED on his first bite, chewing the muscles, skull, and bones to mush and swallowing hard, a large lump visibly descending down his throat. He lowered the remainder of the boy’s body to his throbbing sex trunk and crushed it against the hot, hard flesh and slowly stroked. “Mmmmm.” he moaned. “Before I leave here, I am going to test your devotion to me, little pleasure toys. I am stoked to be worshipped, to instill fear, and to rampage beyond these walls. “YESSS, MY GOD, ALMIGHTY AND ALL POWERFUL KANG-DAE!” I cried out lustfully. Kang-dae lowered his gaze to me and purred, “Good little bitch. You see me as more, don’t you you bloodlusting little power slut?” as he reached down and snatched the worshipful little teacher from beside me, lifting him to his now glaring face. “Now, what about YOU?” the burgeoning deified, lustful teen Asian muscle-beast growled ominously as he licked his bloody lips and licked the new playthings muscular, black little body. Then the bell rang to change classes.
  15. bbmikenj

    Old Man Power. Finale added 5-13-23

    Fred had never worried much about getting older. Then one day, his daughter posted some pictures on Facebook from the party she had thrown for him on his 75th birthday. He looked stooped over and frail, with a fairly pronounced paunch. When did I turn into a old grandpa, he wondered to himself. He still had a good head of hair, now silvery-white, but the rest of him was sagging. His former 6’4” stature looked like it had lost a good 5 inches. He decided to do something about it. He didn’t want to join a gym looking like did, so he started doing push-ups at home everyday. At first it was a struggle just to get down on the floor then get back up again. But he stuck with it, and within a few weeks, he was doing ten push-ups, a couple of times a day. He liked how it made him feel, so he got an old chin-up bar out of the garage. His sons had used it decades ago when they played football. He attached it to a doorway in the house. At first he had to use a low stool to assist him in getting any pull-ups at all, but after time, he was able to do some on his own. He progressed faster than he thought he would, and soon, he would pump out ten reps every time he walked past the doorway. Then he would hang from the bar, stretching out his vertebrae. It wasn’t long before he noticed changes in his body. Things were tightening up, he could feel it. Even better, he could see it in the mirror. He’d never been a muscle guy but he’d stayed fit by running, but after his divorce years ago, he’d given that up. He used to take daily walks with his dog, but after the dog died, he stopped that too. He’d definitely let himself go. Now he was feeling a fire inside. He went out and bought an exercise bike, and started doing 45 minutes of cardio a day. His paunch shrank. His pant size went from a 38 to 34. While he rode the bike, he watched YouTube videos on fitness, exercises, and supplements. He ordered a set of parallel bars, and started doing bodyweight dips. They made his chest swell out and his nipples jut. He started doing squats every morning. First ten. Then 20. Almost every day, he added ten more, until he was up to 100. He did lunges around the house, and as his legs got stronger, he did them in the yard, which improved his balance and made his ass plump up. The waistband of his 34 pants grew looser, but the backside got tighter. His legs got veiny. And bigger. His forearms were getting veiny and bigger, too, but he wanted more. So he went to a fitness store and bought some grip training equipment. He trained his forearms for half hour a day, and as they grew bigger and veinier, he got into flexing them for twenty minutes after training them, bloating them so full, he could barely move his hands. He started eating spinach, so his forearms would grow like Popeye’s. Spinach salads. Spinach smoothies. Spinach omelets. It sure seemed to work. His forearms grew, but so did his upper arms. And his shoulders. And his back. It motivated him to never skip a day or cut a workout short. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing in the mirror. Muscles. Sinewy muscles. Ropey and hard. His abs were starting to show. One morning, he flexed his arms, and almost jumped back in surprise. He knew what he had. He had Peaks. He had read the name for them online. Biceps peaks. Not huge, not yet anyway, but they were defined, and had a split running across the top, like a mountain ridge. His forearm swell was equally impressive. Gnarly and veiny. Now, even driving his car, his arms felt strong, not frail and shaky like they were before. When he pressed his palms into the steering wheel, his chest puffed out, stretching his shirt tight. He could feel his strength surge. His spine had straightened out, bringing back some of his height. When he walked thru a store, people looked at him differently. He carried himself differently. It fed his desire for more. He ordered an abdominal muscle stimulator, which he didn’t expect to work, but he was wrong. It almost worked too well. Sometimes, when he took it off, his abs would cramp up so hard that he would double over in pain. After some deep breaths, he could stand up and see his abs still twitching. After two weeks of twice a day sessions, he had a six pack without even flexing. He had the taper of a National level gymnast. He checked himself out in the mirror a lot. He liked everything he saw. Except his neck. He wanted it to be thicker and tighter. He bought a neck harness that had a chain attached, and he dug out his sons’ old weight set and used the plates from it to do weighted neck lifts and bridges. Every day. Fuck worrying about overtraining, he figured. At 75, what did he have to lose. His neck responded as fast as his other body parts, and before he knew it, he had the neck and traps of an Olympic wrestler. He bought wide-necked compression tees to show them off better. The tees also highlighted his broad shoulders and extreme taper. His abs showed thru the skin tight fabric. He bought 32” waist jeans, and would go to Home Depot just to see the reaction from contractors and landscapers. He knew his face still showed his age, but that made him enjoy the looks even more. Where was this flush of energy and vitality coming from? He didn’t know, and didn’t care. It felt amazing. His balls must be churning out more test than when he was in his twenties, because he woke up with raging morning wood every day. His body odor was musky and virile. He was horny all the time, and when he jerked off, his ejaculate didn’t just dribble out like before. It shot clear across the room. He felt like he had hit puberty again. His bodyweight had gone from a saggy 155 to a 225lb Adonis retiree. And he was just getting started.
  16. Hey! Quite cliche for me to say this, but long time lurker giving it a try at a first story. This ist more of a long burner that takes inspiration from multiple sources of media and things that I like in general. I hope people like it as much as I’ve liked past stories I’ve read here. I’ll take my time setting it up, but be patient enough and I promise the good parts will come! Let me know if you have feedback! ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— Chapter 1 I woke up with the sound of credits rolling up. John had been staring at me wide eyed as I opened my eyes and closed my mouth, which at this point was even drooling a bit. “How could you sleep through that movie?” He asked. John was my roommate. A really nice guy, too innocent and always with his head up in the clouds. You see, John was also not bad looking himself and part of me wishes I hadn’t first approached him when we met in college pretending his looks wasn’t what had drawn me to him. Of course I played nice and pretended that was just a convenient seat in class, but eventually we found out we didn’t really connect or it just wasn’t meant to be. We still became good friends regardless. He had a slim frame, short blond hair and a pair of dazzling blue-ish eyes. I almost forgot how his wide smile always killed me whenever he flashed it. John was tall and liked working out during his free time. He wasn’t a gym rat by any means but it was just enough for him to stay healthy and keep his slim frame. He also knew what clothes fit him well despite having a very laid back and relaxed personality. It might not look like it but deep down he was somewhat vain, he just didn’t show it. We had know each other for years now. That meant we knew each other quite well. We even shared an apartment since neither one of us could afford a nice place on our own shortly after graduating and wanting to live downtown somewhere near our jobs. “First of all that movie made absolutely no sense. Also, I wasn’t sleeping, just resting my eyes a bit ” I told him as I shrugged it off and yawned. John just laughed at my very basic attempt to cover up the fact I was completely exhausted from a crazy week at work. “Yeah, right bro.” Even though it was Friday I still felt completely like I was hit by a bus after working long hours throughout the week and barely any sleep. All I wanted was to rest a bit, but I had promised John we’d go out hiking the next morning. “Are you sure we are still going out tomorrow mr. old man?” He questioned me while getting up from the couch and grabbing the now empty popcorn bowl from the coffee table in front of us. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to see go on a hike after such a brutal week. “You’d just get lost without me, so yeah, we’re going” I replied. John made his way to the kitchen to drop the bowl in the sink. I’m pretty sure he was just gonna leave it there had I not threatened him with a cold stare over my shoulders. I didn’t like his laziness but at this point I’m pretty sure he just did it to annoy me on purpose. “Ok, calm down. I’m gonna clean it. And you gotta stop with this whole “work is killing me, I’m past my young days, bla bla bla. Where’s the fun, party guy I knew in college?” He said as he turned his back to me and immediately started cleaning the bowl and whatever crap he had used while watching the movie. While he was doing the dishes I got distracted by a brief second. I would always forget what his best asset was, until he put on those sweatpants he’d normally wear when home. His butt looked so round and so bubbly in those pants it was almost unbelievable. “Earth to Peter. Are you even listening or just daydreaming about this peach over here?” He said while slightly shaking his butt. Oh god, I was mortified. I had kept staring at his ass dancing in those sweatpants and he had noticed. My face immediately turned redder than the apple standing by the kitchen counter and I quickly turned to my phone trying to fake a reaction. “Yes we are going hiking, I’ve said it already” I quickly responded pretending I was checking my social networks. John was straight, but he just didn’t mind me being gay and I appreciated this the most about our friendship. He used to tease me me all the time with small stuff like this. At this point I’m pretty sure he just likes his ego being stroked every once in a while. He quickly finished the dishes and came over again, throwing himself on the couch sitting uncomfortably close to me trying to spy on what I was checking on my phone. He kept trying to see the screen and I kept just moving my hands away trying harder and harder for him not to see anything and see through my ruse. “C’mon you were totally checking me out. There’s nothing on your screen” “Get off of me, I wasn’t”. “You really need to go out on more dates” he said. “If only my job wasn’t killing me” I replied annoyed at the situation. “Ok, then I promise we’re gonna have fun tomorrow and then you I’ll stop with this. It’s just sometimes I feel like you always work so hard and don’t stop to look around and enjoy the little things” he said trying to cheer me up and get me hyped for our hike. I tried seeing the bright side of things. If anything I’d at least spend some quality time outdoors. It wouldn’t hurt and it had been forever we last did that. “I’m gonna let you go now and hope you’re ready tomorrow!” He said enthusiastically “Yeah, yeah.” I laughed and forced myself to get up so I could go shower and get changed. “I will see you tomorrow mr. young and free”. ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— By the time the first ray of sunlight was up we were already out there. We woke up early in the morning, which meant I hadn’t completely recovered from my week. My morning wood only made it more difficult to leave bed as I really wanted to give it some attention, but we were gonna be late and I could already hear John moving around the apartment. I’m not a big guy by any means, just average, but I’ve never had anyone complain about it. I would say I’m perhaps a bit about average in terms of girth which make my bulge look nice in my underwear, but this morning my hard on made it feel like it was even beyond that. It’s what you get for not giving it the proper attention for more than a week now, but once I heard John knocking at the door that’s when I knew it was gonna be postponed yet another time. I just got up, got ready and packed my stuff so we could leave. John noticed I was feeling a little bit moody so he offered some jokes to lighten up the mood. I was not gonna say no plus I was starting to feel more energetic to be outside. The weather was nice and we were both in just regular outdoor wear with gym shorts and tshirts, our backpacks and some water and food for the hours ahead of us. The rest of the things stayed in the car and we’d return later. By the time we reached the lake that John really wanted to go to the sun was already shining. The sweat in his shirt was visible and it made the fabric cling to his body in a way that only accentuated his features. His slightly developed chest was heaving up and down and every chance I got to look at it I did. It was a pretty uneventful morning up until that point. I never saw someone remove their shirt so quickly to jump into the water. It was September so even though the sun was high up the water wasn’t exactly warm, but John had this careless free spirit I never shared, which I quite admired. He was just in his white trunks which immediately made me think he didn’t think everything through. “Are you really going in with just that?” I asked. “It’s just us here, no one’s gonna mind” Before he had even finished the sentence he was already inside the water. I had barely had time to contest him, but he was right. There was nobody around so I removed my shirt and joined him by the water. When I approached, though, my suspicions were right and the water was super cold. I just had my feet in and John was already diving head in. Fast forward a couple minutes of me literally moving 1 inch per minute trying to enter the cold water while pretending to admire the beautiful landscape and the crystal clear waters and I notice something glowing next to where John was swimming. “Hey, dude, what’s that thing over there? That orange glow.” I asked. He looked at me, puzzled, and then realized it was something underwater. He shrugged his shoulder saying he had no clue but before I could say anything he just took a deep breath and went down to check it. After a couple seconds I could see the glow fading from the surface and John had come up with a tiny pebble in his hand. He was holding it against the sun, mesmerized at it. There was no orange glow at all and we were both asking ourselves if that was something we both hallucinated or something. “Check it out it’s just a weird black rock. It was sitting at the bottom but I’m sure I saw it glowing. That’s what made it so easy to tell it apart from all the other rocks at the bottom of the lake”. It did look like a normal rock at first but upon closer inspection there were three things that were outstanding. First one was that the rock had markings. Not scratches, markings. The markings all looked like barcodes, like they were carved in it. Second thing was that it’s shape was very odd. Even though it seemed like a normal rock all its edges seemed oddly angular. Like it was man made. Something about its shape gave it an alien nature, but I’m not quite sure how to describe it. It’s almost like you could tell that 1000 years wouldn’t have been enough for nature to shape something like that. And the third one was a that right in the middle of it there was a slit. It was almost unnoticeable, but it was there. Maybe that’s where the weird glow came from. The both of us were incredibly intrigued by it, so much that we didn’t even pay attention to our surroundings as we were getting out of the water. John was soaking wet, obviously, and that’s when I looked down at his bulge while he was distracted with the rock. I’ve seen him before in undies, walking around the apartment with only a towel wrapped around his waist but somehow he looked mesmerizing today. The water dripping from his body, the wet undies outlining every one of his smooth curves and bulges. His dick was also clearly visible since he was wearing white trunks. I never put much thought into his size but it definitely looked big considering he had literally just been in the cold water. You could see the shaft pressed against it and the white, almost transparent, fabric moving slowly as he walked. The head looked big and juicy. You could clearly see he was uncut as well. I’d guess maybe 4 or 5 inches soft? When I looked up I realized he was staring at me and that’s the first time I think I ever saw him blushing. He didn’t mind walking around half naked, but I think this was the first time he was this close to being naked around me. “Uhm, sorry” he said half smiling and half trying to hide his dick print with one of his hands. “I’ve seen naked guys before” I joked, trying to ease him up a bit and not make it seem like I was obsessing over him. The sun was starting to hide behind the clouds so we thought it’d be a better idea to just take it back to the cabin we had rented for the weekend and be gone before we got caught in the rain or bad weather. Despite the brief moment of blushing John seemed to have his attention completely snap back to the rock after he finished dressing up again and picking his stuff from the side of the lake where we left our stuff. “Did you notice if that was the thing glowing when you picked it up?” “Well yeah. Or at least I think so. It stopped glowing the moment I touched it. It’s like there was this thin jello membrane around it and once I touched it there was this kind of jolt feeling. But then that was it. The glow ceased, I picked it up and came up for air”. During the walk back we both took turns examining the rock but there really wasn’t anything else that we could make of it. It didn’t take long for us to reach the cabin and John immediately went for a shower as he wanted to get cleaned up and enjoy the rest of the calm afternoon warm and in dry clothes. I, on the other hand, tried to crack the rock open through the small opening in it, flash a light inside it, anything that could bring the glow back. Nothing had worked. Eventually the both of us just gave up and left it aside as we still had to gather some wood to set up a small fire for the marshmallows later that evening. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful as I just read a book while John was gathering some wood and preparing the fire pit. When night fell the fire was already up and we unpacked some food we brought. As we were preparing the food to start cooking it John accidentally cut himself in the finger. “Ouch!” I heard him complain in pain as a drip of blood left his cut. It wasn’t anything deep or serious but he rushed to the restroom to get a bandaid from the first aid kit as he didn’t really like the sight of blood. A couple seconds later when he returned from inside the cabin, where all the lights were off, I swear I could catch a quick glimpse of a small glow around him. It clearly wasn’t as strong as the one we saw that morning in the water but just faint enough that I didn’t know if I was just imagining things when looking at him since the fire pit was standing between me and the path to the cabin from where he was coming from. We finished dinner and prepared to go to bed early as we wanted to continue exploring a little longer on Sunday before we made our way back to the city. Usually I always slept like a rock so it wouldn’t be an issue to fall asleep. Little did I know what was to come.
  17. This story is violent and involves someone forcing themselves on another person, so don't read if that bothers you. Hey yall, this is the first ever thing I've written. I've been a long, long, long time lurker/reader and on a whim decided to give writing a shot. This was made with stories like Tony vs. Superman in mind, where iconic heroes get taken down easily. This story is the first of a series of Marvel stories I've been working on following one character, if people like it maybe I'll work through the other drafts and share them as well. ------------------------------------------------------------- Steve Rogers pulled his mask over his head and double checked himself in the mirror to make sure it was on straight. He was America’s champion and there should be no fault in his appearance, no line, no crease, no part out of place. His military mentality never left him, and it showed in his stature. Even though this was just a routine patrol on Manhattan’s Upper East side, he didn’t stray from his routine even slightly. Confident everything was in order Steve walked over to his pride and joy resting on the mantle beside the empty display where his costume would normally rest. Where Thor had his hammer, and Iron Man had his armor, Steve had his shield. It was a beacon of hope, strength, and resolve for the downtrodden. He picked up and latched onto the straps along his back and headed out to the basement level of Avengers Tower where he’d find his motorcycle to head out on. Not that he needed a vehicle, he could easily outrun it with his mammoth legs fueled by the serum in his veins. Truth be told, he simply enjoyed the feeling of riding it. It was already past nightfall, and as he zoomed down the streets glancing down alleyways and side streets as he passed he could hear the occasional cheer from fans and supporters as they zipped by. He was their hero and he would also fight for them. He allowed himself a small smirk in pride, only to be immediately distracted by a distant scream. Someone needed his help. The voice came from over a block away, but his trained sense of superhuman hearing left it ringing clear in his ears, even over the rumbling of his bike. It was definitely a masculine voice in distress. Sure enough, as he approached he could hear the sound of a man pleading for his life along one of the nearby alleyways. As he parked his bike around the corner he nearly flew off of it in the same moment entering the alley in the blink of an eye. In front of him there was a man being held off his feet by a much larger man in a black hoodie. Steve couldn’t make out much in the darkness, but the man was well over 6 feet and seemed quite built for his height. The smaller man was trying desperately to kick himself free from the man’s grip with his dangling feet, but he was clearly outmatched and stood no chance. Steve didn’t let a moment go to waste and called out to the man. “I think you should let him go,” he said, making sure to make it clear that what waited behind the man was no joke through his tone. The man didn’t move, he continued to hold the smaller in the air with one arm, an impressive display of strength, Steve realized, for a typical man. This man clearly worked hard on his strength. “Son, I said to put him down. I will not give you another warning, do not make me use force.” Steve said. To Steve’s surprise the man chuckled, the movement caused the man in his hands to shake violently just from the small movement. “Please, and what exactly are you going to do?” The man said, not even turning around to acknowledge the presence behind him. Steve tensed, he knew a fight was coming. ”I don’t think you realize who you are dealing with. If I must, I will put you down.” Steve said. The bigger man let out a small sigh, but instead of putting the other man down he moved his arm to the wall beside him, pinning the man in his hand. The smaller man let out gasp as the air flew out of his lungs for a moment from the force of the large hand pressed against his chest. It was an incredible display of strength, to not just pin a man with one arm, but move him entirely. Though smaller than them both, the man in his grip had to have weighed nearly 200 lbs. “I have an idea of who I’m dealing with,” the man in the hoodie said, still effortlessly holding the smaller man against the wall, “but I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with.” This was going nowhere, so Steve stepped toward the two. He thought of the need to bring out his shield, but given that this man was likely just human it wouldn’t be needed. He walked up to the back of the larger man, realizing now that the man was only a little shorter than his 6’5” height, but his back was nearly as wide as his own. If it was all muscle under that hoodie, the man must have sported an impressive physique. But Steve had both his superhuman strength, and his training to back him up. The average street villain stood no chance. Allowing one last chance for the thug before him to back down, Steve simply put a grip on the man’s shoulder, the one still holding the man up without any sign of strain. As he squeezed, he could feel the muscles tensed and flexed under his hand. The shoulder was as hard as steel, and even through the hoodie Steve could feel the heads of the man’s massive delt pressing against his grip. This thug was definitely hiding a lot under there. “If this is how it’s going to be, then I will just have to teach you a lesson. Can’t say I didn’t give you a sporting chance.” Steve said, allowing one final moment for things to go a better way. The large continued to hold still. Allowing his adrenaline to surge, Steve prepared to move fast and hard, tightening the grip on the man’s shoulder to pull him away from the smaller man and quickly down to the ground. His arm exploded in an undeniably stunning display of size and power, his battle hardened biceps nearly ripping out of his suit. He made a point not to try too hard, he certainly didn’t want to rip the man’s arm out. But the large man barely moved. His weight shifted from the force, but he never lost his balance. Under his hand Steve felt the man’s delt explode in response, nearly breaking his grip in the process. This man was strong, but he had faced plenty of strong foes before. He moved to wrap his arms around the man, barely able to get around the massive lats to pull the man into a suplex. Steve’s mighty pecs pressing into the thug’s lats in a secondary battle of muscle against muscle. Steve flexed them hard as poured his strength into the move, his suit tightening under the strain of his meaty chest expanding under it. Again the thug barely moved. This time the force was enough to cause him to stumble backward and nearly lose his pin on the man against the wall, but the thug quickly regained his footing. His lats tensed and flared in response, catching Steve off guard and nearly breaking his hold around the man’s torso, but Steve managed to hold on, sweat dampening the inside of his mask. The thug let out a long sigh, the movement nearly made Steve fall into the man as he exhaled. However it seemed Steve had prevailed as the thug released the smaller man, causing him to fall to the ground nearly face planting onto the concrete. “Guess I gotta make an effort here, since you won’t just let me be.” Despite the shock, the small man stuttered out a small thank you to Steve and skittered away. As the man hurried down the alley, the thug rolled back shoulders against Steve’s arms, the movement causing the rock hard muscles in his back to flex against Steve pecs. To Steve’s shock he quickly lost his grip on the thug, unable to pin down the expanding muscle in his arms. Steve took a step back to ready himself. The thug turned around, giving Steve the first look of his face under the hood. The man was younger, likely in his late 20s. His jaw was chiseled and square and sported a line of hair along his chin and a thin mustache, not enough to make for a full goatee. His eyes were dark, and as they focused in on Steve he caught a glimpse of shock in them. Perhaps this thug had finally seen the error of his ways. But the shock was replaced with a grin as the thug chuckled. “Fuck! I was hoping it was you, Captain fucking America,” the thug said, “Damn, looks like wishes can come true. I’ve been hoping to put myself to the test. You can only go so far setting record after record in the weightroom. I needed a real challenge.” The thug pulled down his hood and gave Steve a once over with his eyes. Steve had already regained his composure and of course made sure to give the thug a stunning display of his physique, hoping to dissuade the man from further conflict. But the man nearly doubled over in laughter in response. “Holy fuck, Cap, you might be big, but if that was the kinda power you have behind those muscles, you ain’t shit.” The thug stepped closer to Steve, his pecs nearly coming in contact. Cap’s entire world was eclipsed by the sheer size of the man before him, but Steve didn’t drop his stance. “Oh right, it’s obvious who you are, but you don’t know me. I’m not anyone really, don’t worry, just call me CJ.” CJ? Steve had never heard of any villain street level or otherwise that went by this name, surely this just wasn’t a normal man. There’s no way someone with his strength couldn’t either be empowered, or gifted much like Steve was. “Look, I don’t care who you are, son, but I can’t leave you here causing harm. I’m going to have to take you in.” Steve said. CJ let out another chuckle, “Alright Captain Weakshit, if you think you’ve got it in you, but let me give you a better idea of what you’re up against.” Steve took a step back as the man moved to unzip his hoodie. He immediately noted the chiseled upper chest that revealed itself, a light layer of chest hair poking through the shirt underneath. CJ seemed to struggle getting the jacket off, but managed without ripping it. He sported a thin green tank top, stretched as thin as paper against his skin. CJ was massive, his pecs bulged through the fabric nearly ready to rip it to shreds, Steve could make out the veins snaking down the large man’s neck and down his chest through it. A thin tattoo Steve couldn’t quite make out was along the man’s right pec. Alongside his chest, CJ’s arms rippled with power and were no less shredded. A large bulging vein ran across each bicep, looking as if they’d jump out of his skin. Steve also got a good look at the man’s shoulders and realized he wasn’t wrong about them. CJ sported boulders for delts and even at rest Steve could make out striations and a roadmap of veins. Steve nearly lost himself in the stunning display of muscle before him, CJ was not just huge, he was incredibly lean, no wonder he packed so much strength under that physique. Steve let out a small smirk, “look, you’re clearly a big man. I applaud you for your training, but I’ve taken down plenty of big foes. This won’t be a challenge.” Steve said in an effort to pump up his own confidence, but somehow he felt an ounce of envy at the other man’s imposing display of muscle. CJ smiled, a look which sent a shock down Steve’s spine. CJ was handsome and every bit a fine specimen of a man. Steve was straight, but there was no denying what was before him. CJ’s voice invaded his thoughts, “Fuck man, I am going to enjoying breaking you. Somehow, I know you will too in the end.” CJ chuckled and tossed his hoodie aside. Before it even hit the ground CJ unleashed a punch right at Steve’s gut. The movement was so fast that Steve nearly didn’t have a chance to react, managing to twist his torso enough to dodge the blow, CJ’s fist glancing against his suit. But before Steve could take advantage of the miss, CJ had already found his footing and came back with another swing, this time at Steve’s chest. There was no time to dodge this one, and the fist slammed into Steve’s chest like a freight train. It knocked Steve completely off his feet and he fell back against the concrete, skidding. Pain shot through the right side of his chest, how did a punch like that hurt so much? Steve threw himself back onto his feet in a kick up, already readying his stance to fight back when he was stopped at the sight of CJ simply standing there, both of his arms raised beside his head in a double bicep pose. Each bicep rose to a peak that looked like they could cut diamonds between each well defined head. Veins rippled across each arm in a stunning display of power. Steve guessed CJ’s arms to be well over 20” without an ounce of fat on them. Almost as big as his own. And yet, he had knocked him down with a single punch, perhaps he simply wasn’t ready for it. But the sight before him made Steve doubt himself. “You couldn’t even take one punch from these Cap,” CJ said, “I seriously thought this was going to be a challenge to test all the work I’ve put this body through, but you’re just a weak little shit.” Steve didn’t know how to respond, how could this man be so cocky? He was Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America. “Fuck it dude,” CJ said while still holding the pose, “come at me with all you got, try to break this.” Steve questioned whether CJ’s biceps grew larger after the taunt, but it had to have been his imagination, they had to have been fully flexed. “I don’t know who you are, but to think you can best an Avenger will have you leaving here sorely mistaken.” Steve shot back, regaining his confidence. Steve charged at CJ, who still was holding his mighty arms up high. As he reached the beast before him, Steve channeled the entire force of his body into one massive punch at CJ’s abs. Steve’s quads exploded as they braced for the blow, flaring so hard he heard the seams of his leggings let out a slight rip as they gave way. His eyes honed in on the target, and just before his fist landed he saw 8 bricks of muscle wall up through the green fabric of CJ’s tank top. A flicker of doubt flashed in Steve’s mind. His punch slammed into CJ so hard it Steve thought he might punch a hole through the man, but as his fist hit CJ’s wall of muscle pain immediately flooded his arm. CJ didn’t move an inch, and the entire force of the blow rebounded back, nearly shattering the bones in Steve’s fist and arm, saved only by the density of his superhuman skeleton thanks to the serum. Steve doubled over from the pain almost immediately, letting out a chilling scream, nearly falling back again on his ass. Steve could feel his arm going numb as the pain subsided, and he realized he was kneeling on one knee right in front of CJ, his face right at the big man’s abdomen. His eyes widened as he saw that he hadn’t even left a mark. CJ’s abs were still tightly flexed in a display of triumph. Steve looked up to see CJ staring down at him, his arms still held high, maintaining his double bicep pose. The sight of the manbeast before him made Steve feel tiny. CJ flashed another handsome smile down at Steve. “You better get used to being down there. That’s where you belong, you know?” CJ laughed, causing his abs to relax and bringing Steve’s gaze back to them. “The look on your face man, I wish I could frame it. Captain America brought to his knees and I didn’t even lay a finger on you. I bet you’re dying to see what stopped you cold.” CJ lifted up the bottom of his tank top with both hands, slowly bringing into view the wall of muscle that had nearly shattered the hero’s arm. Steve’s vision was filled with CJ’s abs of steel, each muscle a well defined brick. A light layer of black hair ran down the middle and across his lower abdominals, trailing down into CJ’s pants. They made his abs appear even more defined. Then CJ flexed. Steve's jaw nearly hit the floor as the muscles in front of his face exploded, he didn’t even realize abs could explode. What was a well defined 8 pack was now 10 boulders of harder than steel tight muscle. Veins popped out along the side and down CJ’s lower abs, again pulling Steve gaze downward. CJ noticed and began twisting and flexing his torso to show off his obliques, pulling Steve’s gaze back up. Every inch of him was perfectly cut as if chiseled from stone. CJ could rival even the mighty Thor in a battle of physiques. Instead of lowering his shirt back down, CJ ripped it half, shredded it like tissue and finally unveiled his entire upper body. All that was left was a tiny gold chain across his neck, looking as if it would snap at any slight movement. “Dear God…” was all Steve could muster as he took in the beast towering above him. “Not a god man,” CJ said, “but I guess to a weak fuck like you I might as well be.” The cockiness in CJ’s voice woke Steve from his fog and he shook his head. Perhaps he would need to call backup for this one. CJ was clearly some sort of otherworldly threat that he would need the rest of the team to handle. Steve readied himself for a sprint off the ground, deciding to retreat back to his bike and seek allies, but before he could even raise himself off the ground CJ slammed his knee right into the hero’s face. The movement was so sudden Steve hadn’t seen it coming and was immediately flown onto his back a few feet away from the blow. He slammed back down on the ground and his vision filled with stars. “You don’t get to walk away from this. I’m not done with you.” CJ said. CJ stepped over the dazed hero below him and wrapped his hand around Steve’s neck. The hero was still trying to process what had happened when he felt himself being lifted off the ground. CJ was picking him up with just one arm… exactly as he had done to the small man before. As the realization set in Steve felt his feet dangling off the ground as he was held above CJ. Steve tried to toss quick, strong blows wherever he could, CJ’s neck, his pecs, the forearm gripping his neck, but nothing seemed to phase the big man. He then grabbed onto CJ’s arm, trying in vain to pry himself out, but instead finding himself getting lost in the man’s titanic arm, hard and immovable under his hands. CJ laughed at the feeble attempts by Steve to free himself and with his free hand CJ pulled off Steve’s mask, revealing the face of the blue eyed blonde underneath. CJ took in the look on Steve’s face, blood now running down his chin from the blow he just gave him. The hero was in a mix of shock, confusion, and fear. It was time to completely break whatever was left. CJ brought Steve closer, still being dangled in the air as if a little kid and leaned into his ear. CJ’s warm breath washed over Steve’s face and his nose was filled with the scent of the man’s musk. “I really am not a god, or an alien, or even a supersoldier. I’m just a guy who’s been putting himself through hell to become the best of the best.” CJ let out another chuckle. “Actually, you’re gonna get a kick from this one. How old are you again? 35? 40? Oh right, you’re the man out of time… so what 100 or some shit? Well Cap, I hate to say it, but you just got embarrassed by a…..” Steve didn’t even get a chance to process what hit him. It flooded his mind and the realization was instant. The man who was effortlessly holding like a ragdoll wasn’t a man, but a kid. Not even out of high school. 18 years old, the words hitting him again. “Fuck! There’s that look again, you’re so fucking stunned. We didn’t even get to fight and I can see I did a number on you!” CJ lowered Steve back down to the ground, stopping only to put his hand back on the hero’s shoulder. Again, with an effortless display of power the young man forced Steve back to his knees, the hero still stunned over being bested by a teen. CJ was as big as his supersoldier physique, just as shredded and ripped, and yet somehow Steve’s strength wasn’t even an ounce of the young adonis’. Talk about winning the gene lottery. He was Captain America. He trained his body over decades and was powered by a steroid that gave him size and strength that rivaled gods. Yet CJ had already surpassed him, and at such an age. He couldn’t fathom how such a possibility could even occur. Steve was so lost in thought that he hadn’t realized that CJ no longer had a hold on him. He wasn’t brought back to Earth until he noticed CJ had begun unfastening the button of his jeans. CJ pulled down his pants with a struggle over his mammoth quads, allowing them to rest at his knees. He hadn’t left his underwear on. A million more thoughts flooded Steve’s mind. His brain was trying to process everything happening to him. The wave of testosterone-fueled scent of CJ that pummeled his senses. the massive mounds of flesh that made up CJ’s incredible quads, so big they would easily dwarf the hero’s own impressive trunks. And snaking with ropes of throbbing veins barely masked by the thick black hair all over them. The thought of why Steve hadn’t fled already, why was he still on his knees in front of this young man? Lastly, the sight of CJ’s manhood filled his brain. Steve prided himself in being the peak of humanity, in every sense. But CJ sported a cock as big as his own, yet he could tell it was still soft. 10 inches of muscle meat swung before his eyes, crowned with a thin bush of dark hair. He finally got to see just where CJ’s treasure trail went. CJ admired the hero’s stunned face below him. Steve was speechless and like a deer in headlights. CJ rewarded the man by repeatedly flexing his quads, watching how the hero’s eyes would widen each time his huge tear drops of muscles seem to blow up to twice the size and the striations cut through the skin. The sight caused blood to fill his swaying monster cock, its size growing to a similarly impressive display. As his cock nearly reached its full length the head grazed against Steve’s lips and up his nose until finally reaching its full mast in a stunning display of perfect manhood. The throbbing cock filled Steve’s vision as it bounced up and down. “Captain America, look at what you’ve done to me, holy shit.” CJ let out a laugh. “One punch from this arm knocked you on your ass.” CJ flexed his arm not even looking to see if Steve was watching, he was in awe of his own size as he watched his arm. “These lats and pecs broke your grip without even a sweat” CJ moved to flaring out his lats and causing his pecs to explode below him, completely blocking out the view of the defeated hero under them. He wished he could take a picture of the display just to witness how impressive it was. “One hit to these abs nearly shattered your arm.” CJ looked down at his abs as he flexed them again. Running his hands down them, feeling the power and strength held behind the wall of muscle. Past them all he could see that his massive cock was throbbing, still inches above the face of the fallen hero below him. It filled CJ with pleasure and caused his cock to send out a huge glob of precum as he flexed his muscle cock. “And one hit from this leg showed you that you are nothing compared to me.” CJ focused on his right quad, again admiring the way it seemed to defy reality as he repeatedly flexed it. The whole time it caused his cock to bounce and throb, he could feel it hitting Steve’s face again and again as he flexed. In CJ’s mind he began to wonder if he really was a god. He defeated one of the most well known and beloved heroes without even trying. As CJ turned back to the dazed hero the sight made him chuckle again. Steve’s jaw was open and his face was now covered in the young god’s precum, another drop had just landed on the hero’s nose, oozing down Steve’s lips. Before the hero could get a taste of the god before him, CJ thrusted his hips forward, placing the head of a massive cock on top of Steve’s face. He flexed his cock again causing a massive stream of precum to land right in the hero’s eye. The hero began to flinch but was stopped by two hands behind his head holding him in place. CJ began to thrust his cock up and down and grind his cock against the hero. The force of which would have caused Steve’s head to bobble up and down if he hadn’t been held in place by CJ’s strong hands, the muscle teen’s balls repeatedly smacking against his chin. There was nothing the hero could do at this point. Steve even attempted to use his strength to stand up in hopes of an escape, but as he tensed he could feel the strength of CJ against him and knew it wasn’t worth the risk of hurting himself fighting against the young god. Instead he gave into his other desires and began running his tongue up and down the stud’s massive shaft pressed against his face. CJ immediately let out a moan and pulled the hero from his cock. “That’s right Cap, you know your place. I’m the fucking future of the human race, you are nothing compared to me. I could snap your neck right now if I wanted, but I won’t just so you can have the opportunity to worship the man you always wished you could be.” “CJ FUCKING Stedman” CJ screamed, it shocked Steve how it came out of nowhere. “Remember my fucking name, CJ Stedman is the one who broke Captain America.” Before the beaten hero could fathom what was happening CJ shoved his entire cock down the hero’s throat. The force and speed shocked Steve’s system as his jaw nearly snapped from being stretched to its limit. Tears ran down his face from the pain. Choking, Steve tried to pull away out of reflex, but CJ’s sheer power kept him in check. CJ was lost in himself and how he had completely ruined one of the world’s bravest heroes. It sent him into overdrive and like a pure animal he started to face fuck the hero with such force he thought it might drive a hole through the man’s skull, but CJ didn’t care. As his balls smacked against Steve’s chin like a jackhammer, all CJ could think about was himself. No other man came close to him. He was everything. Massive. Ripped to shreds. Stronger than anyone. And he was still growing, getting better every day. He was only eighteen and still had so much potential. The world wasn’t ready for CJ Stedman, but they would know him now. CJ was filled with ecstasy as he worshiped himself and it sent him over the edge. His massive muscle cock exploded in the hero’s mouth, his massive load shooting straight into Steve’s stomach. CJ’s cock shot so hard and his cum was so hot it burned the hero’s insides. In his muscle crazed orgasm CJ pulled his cock out of the hero, surprised to see the man still intact, but Steve’s face was covered in blood that poured out his nose. CJ continued to shoot load after load all over Steve’s face leaving almost no inch of it clean. As his cock spewed its final shots, he smacked the hero’s face with it. Smearing the mixture of blood and semen. He then let the hero go and Steve fell to the side, having been completely knocked out by the relentless onslaught to his skull. . CJ looked down as the last drop of his cock fell down onto the unconscious hero. It landed right on the iconic shield still attached to Steve’s suit splattering against it leaving a reddish streak. “Shit, you didn’t even get to use this.” CJ laughed, picking up the shield. “Don’t they say this shit is as unbreakable as you?” CJ smirked, and the rush started to hit him again causing his cock to harden. He ran his finger across the red streak his blood mixed cum left on this shield. Holding it in both hands CJ held it above his head. In one mighty swing he brought Captain America’s shield down on his now rock hard cock, snapping the vibranium infused weapon in half. With a smirk, CJ tossed the pieces onto the fallen hero, his mind already chasing thoughts of his next conquest. “Maybe I am a god, why not go find one and see how I match up?” CJ laughed, pulled up his pants and walked out of the alley. Not even giving the limp body he left behind a second thought.
  18. BiteApple

    Alex GROWS (Stardew Valley)

    Hey everyone, Im back after a little break. Just wanted to get this piece out. Credit to GasaiV for this fantastic art. It belongs to him. I do not claim it, but I did morph some of them. Pure fetish work btw, built off my last story so they are a little similar "A-Alex?!?! Is that you??" The man in front of you had a rippling back, mapped with defined muscles, wide as anything. He was wearing a pair of tight fitting grey sweatpants, highlighting every curve in his legs. The band of his underwear peaked out at the top. He slowly turned around, grunting as he continued to pump out rep after rep of bicep curl, to reveal a strikingly handsome face. Emerald green eyes, pierced from behind a shaved army cut of hazel brown hair. His chiselled features accentuated by his cut jawline and killer smirk, framed by his bulging bull neck. "Haha… ragRgh! It's me alright." It was then that you looked down at the man's front half. It was just as impressive as his back. His bull neck levelled out into bulging traps, bookended by boulder shoulders, each with a sexy cut carved out the centre. His arms were massive. His thick bicep bulged with every rep, pumping bigger and BIGGER as veins popped up across the top and down his massive forearm. His pecs were giant melons of muscle, spilling out from his chest. You watched as they striated with every pump, moving up and down… meaty and huge… just like the rest of him. His nipples were large and pointed, areolas swollen and red. So, so suckable… and his abs… ohhh, they were ripped. A shredded eight pack, defined as hell, tore down his torso into a v just above his crotch, where a noticeable bulge rested. His obliques and lats extended from the sides of him like wings, and his thighs were so meaty and snug inside his pants you wondered how they didn't chaff. "You're… huge. What happened to you?" "Well you see… aRGH! During college I had to seriously bulk up if I wanted to dominate the game… nGrgh! The gym called to me. Soon I was addicted and decided to become a pro bodybuilder when I graduated. So… like what you see?" "Yes…mhmm… I want to…" You instinctively reached a hand out and placed it on his pec, feeling it ripple under your touch. Before you could react his free hand covered yours, holding it in place with his firm grip. You almost came from the stimulation. Looking down… did his bulge seem… bigger? "Want to take this a step further?" Your other hand slowly worked its way onto his other pec. "Yes… daddy…" you pleaded. He smirked, and struck a pose with his free hand. You gasped as the muscle tripled in size, swelling to almost double his head. You caress the swelled muscle, revelling in its solid hardness. Reaching down to grip his bulge, he lets out a soft moan. "Alex daddy… how big are you down there?" "Mmhmm… 9 inches probably… grew a bit when I started to juice" " Neghh… can't wait for you to shove it inside me… and fill me up…" You continue to worship his muscle body, feeling and exploring every sweaty crevice. You slip a hand under his arm… only to find it smooth. He notices your perplexition. "Yeah… could never grow hair there. No pubes either", he says with a slight frown. An idea pops in your head. "Hey Alex… what if I told you… you could be bigger? Much bigger? More manly than you could ever desire.? "Really? How?" "Just leave it to me. I sense you have a thirst… deep inside you. Locked away. A thirst for more. A thirst for muscle. A thirst… for godhood. And looking at you now… you're tiny. But you could be… so much… bigger." "Yes… I'm tiny. Puny even.I want to be bigger. It's true. I've always wanted more. Please baby, make me into a monster. I'll become the alpha of your dreams. Do it to me. Please." "Yes Alex… good. But do you know what doing this to yourself means? You will be bigger but… you will change. I fear you will lose your current self. This serum it… makes you darker. More… prominent. The thirst may very well consume you." "I don't care. I want it. You've unlocked my hidden desire for growth. I must be bigger. More muscular. I don't care what it does to me. I just need it, baby, please… more…" "Very well… strip now. Change into this jockstrap. You'll need it." He pulls off his sweats and underpants, and your eyes widen at the sight of his member. It's thick and long… just thinking of how big it's gonna grow… "I'm ready" he says as he pulls on the jock. You slip out the needle from your pocket, and climb onto a chair before plunging it into the vein on his shoulder. Immediately he cries out in pain. "FUCK… ARGHH… IT… HURTS… AWRFGHH… my body… its on fire… I feel it… coursing through my VEINS! ARGHH!!! PAIN… SO INTENSE… HAHAHAHA… I can feel it now… its beggining to work… transform me! More POWER!!" His arm then explodes as he begins to grow. Biceps swell as his shoulder broadens… becoming rounder… more defined. It's a boulder now. So massive and huge. He flexes his bicep as his triples in size, swelling to almost as large as his shoulder. You can start to see armpit hair sprouting in his pits as his forearms bulge. He notices this too, and laughs, voice beginning to deepen into a sexy baritone growl. He's still gripping the dumbell, and you notice the melting BENDING as his strength quadruples. "OHh… NGghh… yes! I'm getting so HUGE! Watch me… RARGH!! Arms… bulging so fuckin big bro… look at my shoulders. Can't fit through the door now. Daddy's getting huge…!!" Next to grow are his legs. His tree trunk quads are QUADRUPLING in size as they balloon bigger and thicker, becoming so defined and hard that you can't take your eyes off them. A thin coat of hair sprouts across them, and you can hear him grunt in satisfaction. "RAWRGH!! Real MAN legs now. Such a BEAST. Give me more serum baby… please… I need to get BIGGER! I know you want me too… just imagine me, all bulked up for you." You quickly pull out a second needle and push it into his left pec. Instantly, he roars ecstasy as his swelling body lets out a massive shockwave that knocks you onto the floor. You stare up at the growing muscle man in front of you, who's pecs have begun to swell. They grew more solid, spilling across the top row of his eight pack, which had started to become more defined as well. They were a true cobblestone wall now, flexing with every slight movement. "NGH… YES… REAL FUCKING MAN CHEST. Bodybuilder… fuck that's so hot. THIS is bodybuilding…no… GOD building!!" He roars as you notice a change in him. It's working now, the side effects of the serum. His attitude is changing… he's becoming darker… more dominant. Your cock throbbed in anticipation of what you were going to turn him into: an evil muscle god, to conquer and rule with. He lets out a roar as his transformation slows down. He's almost complete. Alex was a true muscle beast now. He was so wide that you knew getting out of this room was going to be a challenge… unless he outgrew it. Even his cock had grown, straining his jock and forming a massive bulge. The thin straps accentuated his bubble butt, his dick leaking precum EVERYWHERE. Suddenly, he started to writhe. "ARFH… My head… nGH… it hurts… FUCK! Must… have muscle… NEED more… muscle… changing… becoming dominant… darker… ARGHH!! NO… MUST RESIST… NGHH…YES… GIVING INTO THE DARKNESS… BECOMING… MUSCLE… GOD." He roars as his mind is corrupted. Sweet little Alex is no more. Now stands before you an evil dominant muscle god. "Your god demands another dose. Give it. Now", he orders in his deep, commanding voice. When you don't pull out another syringe, he roars in anger and picks you up, ripping off your shorts as if he was an alpha in a rut, and snatches up the 3rd vial. He plays with it in his massive palms, before whipping out his now MASSIVE (and hard) cock and plunging it deep within his piss slit. He lets out a deep, dangerous growl as the contents flow into his penis. His eyes are closed, and you can tell he's focussing. Suddenly, he lifts up both hands, and flexes into a double bicep. His body explodes with muscle. Everything swells, quadrupled in size as he moans in pure pleasure. He's… hulking out. Growing so big and massive. It was almost insane. He's becoming so much more than a god… yes… he was becoming a being of pure mass and muscle. The embodiment of only manliness, alpha, dominating manliness. You came in your boxers, watching him ascend. He grabbed another weight, much larger this time, and starts to pump. Immediately his face folds into one of pure ecstasy and pleasure as his cock starts to thicken. Harder. Girthier. Veiner. Until he cums. The room is covered in his essence, his eternal ambrosia. It smells wonderful. He turns to you now, an evil smirk on his face. "Daddy's home. And he's a god now. Open up wide, baby. Daddy's got a full alpha load to breed you with."
  19. In May of 2020, geektofreek posted this short story: A Conversation with My Son I liked the scenario so much that I wanted it to continue. I wrote an extension of the conversation for my own pleasure, squeezed quite a bit of private enjoyment from it - - and then sort of forgot about it until yesterday. With all due respect and credit to geektofreek who hasn't been around any of their previous platforms for a quite a while, I decided to repost the original story followed by my extension. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Warning: The son in the story is 19 years old. Although there is no sexual contact between the father and son, their conversation is undeniably sexual. If this is likely to bother you, don't read it. ********************************************* A Conversation with My Son by geektofreek (Part 1, slightly edited) I don’t usually like to talk about these sorts of things. Personal problems and such. But my son, Aidan.... He’s just growing so out of control! You would think at nineteen-years old he would have stopped or slowed down a little. But no, not him. It’s almost as if his growth just keeps increasing. Taller, wider, bigger. This never-ending factory of testosterone! Especially his muscles. 270-pounds now. I’ve honestly never felt so small and inferior around another man before! “M-Maybe it’s time you get a girlfriend or something, Aidan...” I couldn’t help but stutter one night. Right at the dinner table, watching him obsessively flex between bites, so in love with own increasing power, his own muscles. He could barely take his eyes off himself. “Meh...” Aidan, grunted in response after finishing off every bit of meat. *BURRRPPP! “No one’s really caught my attention...” He continued, giving his mammoth muscle arm a couple of pumps. 24-inches of hulking teenage bicep. Seeming not even the slightest bit interested in the conversation. No girls. Not even guys. I honestly wouldn’t have cared if he was gay. But it was always just about his muscles. Nothing more. “Plus, I honestly just want to focus on getting bigger...” Aidan stated like always. Pumping the Everest-sized peak of freaky bicep, right up against his face, staring at it obsessively. “Bigger?” I stuttered, dropping my fork to the floor. And yet the conversation had me completely captivated. With my curiosity at a tipping point. I just had to know... How big did my son want to grow? “Well, like... how much bigger...?” I finally had to ask. Seeing a bit of surprise in his face, the big wheels in his small head slowly began to turn with his face turning a little red. It was almost as if he was embarrassed to admit. “It’s okay, son... we’re all friends here.” I tried to comfort him. But my curiosity wasn’t prepared for the magnitude of my son’s muscle lust. “I don’t know, Dad...” Aidan, finally spoke up. “I’ve honestly been having the craziest dreams...” He continued, already making me gulp, watching him bring down one of his arms, adjusting himself in his seat, pulling and tugging at his skintight bulging gym shorts. “Muscle growth dreams, I guess you could say...” He bit his lip. “Muscle growth dreams?” I questioned. “Yeah, Dad...” Aidan, gulped. “Except sometimes, well... I don’t ever stop growing!” He shockingly continued. “Bigger, and bigger, and BIGGER!” Groaning with this insatiable lust. “J-Jesus, Aidan...” I stuttered in disbelief, especially as I watched his huge nipples begin to harden, adjusting himself so much in his chair it began to creak and crack, almost as if he was getting horned up. “400... 500-POUNDS of muscle!!” Aidan unexpectedly snarled his untamed beastly muscle lust. Suddenly flexing into a most muscular pose, blowing his tank-top apart like paper right at the dinner table. *RIIIIPPPP* “F-FUCK!!” Making me squeal like some schoolgirl, shrink into my chair, suddenly overshadowed by these two monstrous blimps of muscle-breast, pecs bigger than watermelons and twice as hairy as my own. “But you’re already so big, son...” I blubbered in confusion, feeling as if I had opened the biggest can of worms. And yet he wasn’t nearly finished describing his fantasy. “More... and more... AND MORE!” He shamelessly continued. “800-pounds... 900-POUNDS! Urrghhh!” Aidan really groaned, grossly bucking his hips, thumping his huge dick a couple times against the underside of the table. “1000-pounds...” Aidan shuddered, whimpered, as if that was the ultimate number. This big ungodly muscle goal. “Unnghh... I’m so sorry, Dad...” Aidan cringed looking down at his foot-long boner lifting the table off the floor. Trying to stop himself, control himself. I once heard his friends refer to it as “The big pussy crusher.” “I just get so excited...” Aidan admitted, rubbing his gigantic muscle chest, flicking his huge, rock-hard muscle nips even though he was embarrassed. Then again, this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Seeing my son uncontrollably horned up was becoming an increasingly frequent awkward event, usually occurring after a heavy workout, but never so randomly like this. “Look, son...” I tried to be supportive. “That’s quite the huge appetite you’ve got there...” I stated admiringly. With his cock still raging out of control, tilting the table, sliding the dishes slowly towards me. My unsatisfied curiosity drove my ignorance to a whole new playing field. “Is it even possible for someone to grow that big?!” I don’t know why I asked. Obviously it wasn’t possible. And yet, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from feeding into my son’s insane fantasies. “I don’t know if it’s possible, Dad... but I want it SO BAD!” Aidan groaned with unbearable lust, cringing, and gritting his teeth helplessly, with his cock suddenly throbbing, raging, appearing to be a whole inch longer and thicker. I thought he was going to cum! I remembered all those times I had to change his sheets in the past couple of months, all the wet dreams he was having... Were they all about him growing!? “Jeez, son... at that size, you’d be squatting semi-trucks,” I said jokingly... *RIIIPPPPP* “SEMI-TRUCKS!? Unnnghh, DAD!!!” Aidan roared with embarrassment as he finally came uncontrollably. “My LEGS would have to be ENORMOUS!!” He roared with wonder, as if I just exploded his imagination. I watched his gym shorts blow apart with his huge horse-crushing cock emerging, engorging to a whole new level of monstrosity, gushing like a fire hydrant, so much cum I didn’t even think it was possible! Rope after rope of thick, warm semen all over the chair, the table, his feet... his gigantic ape-sized hairy muscle legs. “YOU shouldn’t SAY such things, DAD!!!” Aidan had totally lost it, groaning in total ecstasy from a big rumbling pleasure explosion, tilting his head back helplessly. What a fucking beast! While his eyes were closed in cringing embarrassment, I shamelessly peeked under the table... “Oh god...” I was even more astonished. How was this my own creation? My own flesh and blood? My own son? I had never seen a cock so big in my life... not even in the wildest porn! And he couldn’t stop cumming, leaking so much man-juice all over the floor and his shoes, draining his big bull-sized testicles to the very last drop, like he hadn’t released himself in months, rumbling our tiny house as he helplessly bucked his huge, car-crushing muscle butt. “Dad... please...” Aidan choked up a bit. I knew I must have been caught. “Please don’t look...” he begged me. I didn’t know how to respond. Raising my head, I saw him still panting, with his tongue sticking out, his face surrounded by muscle, suffocated by his pecs, drooling helplessly down his colossal hairy chest. “I swear, I’m not gay!!” Aidan unexpectedly continued. “I just really... REALLY like MUSCLE!” He shuddered a bit more, shooting out one last throat-choking load, all his muscles bulging, tensing. “Jesus, fuck, son...” Was all I could say. “I guess I’d better start buying you more meat, then.” *************************************************** Part 2 - The Conversation with My Son Continues by FallenAway “Jesus, fuck, son...” Was all I could say. “I guess I’d better start buying you more meat, then.” Aidan moaned and looked at me, half surprised and half worried, maybe. “Let’s double your portions. How does that sound?” His chest expanded with a huge breath, and his monstrous cock started tilting the table again. “Dad! What are you saying?” “I’m proud of you, son. I love you. I want to help you follow your dreams. How about triple portions? Is that enough?” “Aww, fuck!” He groaned and arched his back, popping eight bricks of hard abdominal muscle into sharp relief. “Dad! That’s enough!” He exhaled and paused, flexing the huge balls of his biceps again. “For now…” He started to relax. “That’s my boy! No limits, right? Do you need heavier weights? Should I buy some old cars for you to lift?” “JESUS, FUCK!” His body went rigid, and the table finally rose high enough to send all the dishes crashing to the floor. “I’m sorry, Dad! It never got that big before! I didn’t mean to…” “There’s nothing to be sorry about, son! You’re a growing boy. No… you’re a man now. And I’m going to help you become the biggest, strongest, most muscular man who ever lived! How does that sound?” “Unnnngh…” Aidan tensed all his muscles. “Fuck, that sounds great, Dad! I can’t believe you’re not mad at me.” “Mad at you? What for? For being a fucking muscle stud? I couldn’t be prouder! Besides, I wouldn’t dare get mad at you. With all that muscle, you could probably pick me up with one hand and throw me through that wall!” “GOD, DAMMIT!! Don’t SAY that Dad!!” He grimaced. “I mean… I’ve thought about that… and you’re right, I could. But fuck! I don’t want to do that!” “I know, son. I’m just saying, I know you could. It’s obvious. But you won’t need to do that, because I will be happy to do anything you want that will keep you growing and help you to look even better than you do right now. You’re a beautiful young man, Aidan.” He was rubbing his thick chest again. “Really? You think I look good like this, Pop?” “Hell, yeah, son! You know I’m not gay, but any man who looks at you must be wishing he looked like that. I could never dream of looking as good as you, and that’s why I’m so amazed and proud to have such strong, handsome son. Like I said, anything I can do to help…” “Well… I’m gonna need bigger clothes…” “Obviously! We’ll have to get things that stretch a lot, and they’ll show off your muscles better.” “Cool. And… this is kind of weird, so you can say no if you want, but…” He stood up and put one of his big hands over his much bigger dick out of modesty. “Could you help me trim my body hair? It’s coming in so thick I can’t keep up with it, you know?” “I can see that.” His body was stunning. So huge and tall and… so powerful! It was hard to believe he was only 19. “I don’t want to shave, though. I want to look like a real man, so if we could just keep it short and sexy, less like a gorilla, you know?” “I know exactly what you mean, I agree. A man should have some body hair, in moderation. We might have to trim it every couple of days, son. And that’s fine with me.” “Thanks, but honestly it needs to be done every day. You wouldn’t believe how fast it grows. My butt crack looks like a forest, and I can’t reach back there… Sorry, Dad! That’s gross. I don’t expect you to do…” “It’s fine Aidan, really. Don’t forget, I used to put diapers on that butt! Although it wasn’t as big and hard as it is now. It looks like a couple of boulders!” “Fuck yeah!” He turned sideways and flexed so his ass looked higher and rounder. “That’s from all the squats. The girls love my ass. They can’t keep their hands off it.” He smirked. “Jeez, Dad, I can’t believe you’re being so cool about this. I really appreciate it.” “Not a problem, I want you to be happy. Um, can I suggest something?” “Sure, Dad. Of course.” He did a side flex and admired his thick biceps and triceps. “Well, I think you’ve been spending so much time in the gym that you never get out in the sun. No offense, but you’re rather pale. Don’t you think you would look better with a good tan? When you were younger you used to get as brown as a chestnut in the summer when you spent more time around our pool.” Aidan smiled as he looked down at his bumpy abs and his tree-trunk quads. He blushed a little. “You’re not the first one to say that. I’ve been so focused on getting bigger I wasn’t paying attention. I guess that would look hot, especially after you trim all this hair.” “You’re gonna look like a fucking god, son. I mean, you already do, but you’ll be a golden god.” He smirked again. “The thing I hate though, Pop, is trying to get tanning oil all over my body.” He turned his back to me. (He was right, his butt crack did look like a dark forest.) “That’s a lot of area to cover.” He flexed his back and spread his lats. Muscle rippled everywhere. “I can’t reach my back now that my arms are so fucking huge.” He raised his arms into a double biceps pose. I could feel the heat coming off his body and felt a little lightheaded. “You see the problem, Dad?” He looked back at me with a sparkle in his eyes. “Um… that’s not a problem, son. That’s a goddamned wonder of the world! How did you get so big?” He turned around to face me again, squeezing his big, soft dick. “Lots of lifting, and a hell of a lot of food. You know that. You buy the groceries.” It was true. I had been spending a lot more on food lately, and it was just the two of us in the house since his mother died years ago. I know I wasn’t eating more than usual. Maybe less, in fact. Aidan took a step closer to me. “So, what do you say, Pop? Do you think you can help me get that tanning oil all over my huge body? Or would that be too weird?” “Weird? No, why would it be weird? You need help, and I’m here to help.” “Uh huh. You keep saying that. I know you want me to take good care of this.” He ran his hand up and down one side of his torso, feeling his smooth teenaged skin. “So, I’m thinking, since you work from home now, you can start the day by cooking us a nice big breakfast like you do on Sundays, except every day. A dozen eggs, bacon, oatmeal. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, but I need a big breakfast, okay.” He stroked his abs. “Okay. That makes sense.” His skin was so smooth and tight against his muscles. I really did want him to take care of it. “Then I can use that fuel for my first workout of the day in the basement. You can get something done for a while. Unless you want to watch me lift. Maybe you would like that.” He flexed one massive bicep again and looked at it, then at me. “Maybe. I would be curious… If it’s okay with you.” “Hell yeah, I like an audience. It helps me grow.” He smiled that crooked smile again. So fucking handsome! He continued, “While I'm lifting you can towel me off between sets because I sweat a lot. That’s why I drink gallons of water every day.” It was amazing to see how much he could swallow in one go, with his big Adams apple bobbing up and down on his thick neck. “You’ll want to rub me nice and dry so it will be easier to trim all this fucking hair.” He widened his stance and let his dick and balls dangle while he ran both hands over the silky black hair on his muscular thighs and calves. He dragged his hand up his furry abs and chest. I was thinking carefully about how much hair to leave on each part of his body to enhance his gorgeous muscles. I wondered how I would handle his bush and his balls. He snapped his fingers. “Are you still with me, Pops?” I startled a bit. “Yes, of course, son. I was just… planning.” “Alright, I’ll need a big protein shake after each workout, so make sure you have those ready to feed my muscles. They get really fucking hungry after I lift!” He flexed both arms again and growled. “I’m sure they do, son. I’m sure they do. I’ll have what you need. Don’t worry.” “Great. I’ll drink my shake while you start trimming the body hair. Make sure you get a top-quality trimmer. I don’t want any snags from some cheap, dull blade, okay?” He gave me a look to make sure I knew he was serious. “I’ll get the best, Aidan. Only the best for you and your body. Trust me.” “I trust you, Dad.” He reached out and squeezed my bony shoulder. It was the first time he had touched me in a long time. It felt nice. “After the trimming, I’ll need a shower.” “Of course.” I waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. “Would you want…? I mean, would you need…?” I couldn’t say what I was thinking. I felt my face flush. His smiled a little and reassured me. “I would never ask you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.” I felt… relieved? “But… if you want to… I mean, it would be fine with me if you wanted to join me. Then you wouldn’t have to shower earlier. It would save you some time, and it would really help me if you could make sure I get all that hair rinsed off. And I can’t wash my own fucking back anymore, because, well, you see how big I am. And I’ll be getting bigger…” My heart was thumping, thinking about my son getting bigger. “You don’t want me to get acne on my back, do you, Dad? How would that look?” “Terrible. It would look terrible son. Your beautiful skin…” “I know, I need to keep it that way. And guys shower together all the time at the gym. ‘No homo,’ as they say, right Pops?” He grinned. “I trust you, Dad. Even though I’m fucking irresistible!” He threw another pose and laughed. “I’m just kidding! We understand each other, don’t we?” He playfully shoved a huge fist against my shoulder. I understood. I really did. “Of course, son. I would be honored to shower with you if it will help. I only hope it doesn’t bother you to look at my old body. I’m just an ordinary human, unlike you.” “Heh! I like that, thanks! It won’t bother me. Matter of fact, I like to compare my muscle bod to smaller guys. It makes me feel so much bigger and better. Because I am. It’s just a fact.” “It is, you’re right. No point in being modest about it. You’re the finest specimen of a man I’ve ever seen.” “Thanks, Dad. I’m so glad we can talk about this now. I thought you were going to try to talk me out of growing as big as I want to. And I never thought I’d be standing here all fucking naked with you in the dining room. This is so cool.” “It’s a new experience for both of us, son. It does feel good.” I couldn’t stop scanning his body. How could that be made from the same genetic material as mine? He looked like a different species. “So after our shower, you’ll want to get that tanning oil on me right away. It would be good to lock the moisture in while I’m still wet. We might as well do that out by the pool. I can spread out on one of the lounge chairs while you put a nice shine on these muscles. Now that I think about it, you need to get a bigger, sturdier lounge chair. I’m so fucking tall and massive now, I don’t think the ones we have will hold me anymore. Even at my current weight, I’ll just crush them. Look for a metal one, and make sure it has a 500 lb. weight limit. That should do it… for now.” My heart fluttered. I felt like I should be writing all this down, but I knew all the details would be burned in my memory. “What kind of tanning oil do you want?” “Good question. Just get the most expensive kind. You don’t want to take any risks with this.” He gestured to his magnificent physique. “Buy it by the case. Like I said, there’s a lot of area to cover, and you’re going to want to rub it in thoroughly. And I’ll be naked, by the way. I don’t want any tan lines, and a ‘golden god’ should have a golden dick to match, right?” Aidan grinned. “I can’t believe you called me that, Dad. That’s a real boost to my self-esteem. Not that I’m lacking in that department.” He made a smug, goofy face. I couldn’t help but wonder how he would get an even tan on that monstrous cock. I had to ask. “Um, to get that… golden dick, as you called it… wouldn’t you have to make sure it stayed… full size… so all the skin would get tanned?” “Heh! I’m glad I have you here to think about things like that, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem. I can stay hard for as long as I want. You’ll see. It’s a top-quality tool that does whatever I ask it to do.” He squeezed his fat prick for emphasis, and continued mapping out his, and my, daily schedule. “I figure I’ll need about an hour in the sun – that’s a half hour each for front and back in the middle of the day – that should get me nice and brown in no time.” “Yes, your skin always tanned so beautifully. I don’t think you ever got a sunburn.” “I’m sure you’ll keep an eye on me while I bake to make sure I don’t get overdone. Especially the delicate parts.” He winked. “You can do that while you’re making lunch. I’ll need a fuck-ton of lean protein every day, brown rice, lots of vegetables, milk, eggs, yogurt. That’s the ideal, but I can eat pretty much whatever I want, and it still turns to muscle.” He flexed a fat bicep again and admired its shape. “Did I ever tell you about the time I ate twelve whole pizzas at Giovanni’s?” “I don’t think so. I’m sure I would have remembered that son. I’ve always admired your appetite.” “Yeah, one of the guys at the gym challenged me to eat six pizzas in one sitting. I think he was trying to sabotage my routine. But I said, "Fuck that! I’ll eat twelve!" And I made him sit there and watch me do it. He barfed just from thinking about it, but I felt fine. In fact, I had a milk shake for dessert.” He flexed his abs and pulled at the thin skin that wrapped around each block of muscle. “I’m still ripped as fuck, as you can see.” He smiled that cocky smile that oozed superiority. “Then I picked the guy up and carried him into the restroom. I shoved him into a stall, whipped out my dick, and blew a huge load all over him. I just splattered him until he was soaked! God, it felt good. He deserved it. Then I went back to the gym for another long workout, and I lifted heavier than ever. That dude never came back to the gym. Probably gave up weightlifting. He knew he couldn’t compete with this.” Adrien did a beautiful full body flex and admired himself. Hmm. That was a side of my son I hadn’t known about. But it didn’t worry me. “Now that I think of it,” I said, “I do remember a large charge from Giovanni’s on my credit card. I thought you bought pizza for all your friends that day.” “Fuck no. That was all me.” He patted his hard, cobbled gut with a self-satisfied smirk. “Anyway, after lunch, I’ll go to the gym for my heavy workout, and you can get your stuff done. That’ll take about three hours. When I come home, I’ll need my protein shake, and then I’ll take another shower.” “Okay. Will you want me to…” “No, Pop. I’ll want some privacy. I get really horned up after those workouts and I need to pump out a few fat loads just to calm down. Honestly, it wouldn’t be safe for you to be in there. You saw what happened at the dinner table. I don’t have a lot of control when I start fantasizing about getting bigger and stronger, massive as fuck...” He groaned and grabbed his dick again, squeezing it hard to keep it from inflating. His forearm bulged with the effort. “I understand son. That’s perfectly normal for a young man. Nothing to be ashamed of.” “I’m not ashamed of it at all. I love what my dick can do. But I’m not sure I would call it normal. In high school the guys used to call me ‘the geyser.’ None of them could blow as much or as hard as I did. And it’s even better now.” “I must say, I was astonished by your… productivity earlier. I had no idea a man could… make so much…” Aidan blushed and smirked. “That was so fucking embarrassing, Dad. But you handled it well. I still can’t believe you’re not upset. I mean, look at that puddle on the floor! And all those broken dishes. I never lifted a table with my dick before, but… damn that’s fucking hot now that I’m thinking about it.” “It was… impressive, son. I’m not gonna lie.” “Do you want me to clean that up?” “No, no! I’ll take care of it. Do you want to finish going over our schedule?” “Uh, I think you’ve got the general idea. I eat, lift, get groomed, catch some rays, eat again, lift like a fucking mad man, come home, and empty my balls in the shower…” “Then you’ll want dinner. And, as I said, I’m going to feed you triple the amount of meat you’ve been getting. I want to see you really pack on some beef. It’s time to take this seriously.” “Uh… yeah. I mean, I thought I was, but I guess I could step things up.” “If you want to reach those goals, you’d better.” “Okay. Thanks, Dad. Um… do you think those goals are realistic? I was just telling you about my dreams…” “Dreams can come true son! And I’m here to help you make that happen.” “So, when I said I would keep growing, and growing, to…” “400... 500 lbs. of muscle, to start. Yes, I was listening.” “FUCK!” He grabbed his huge dick as it expanded. He sucked a huge breath into his massive chest. “Dad, maybe we shouldn’t get carried away…” “Why not? You must dream big to get big, son! Why not 800… 900 lbs. of hard, powerful muscle?” “JESUS, FUCK! Dad, it’s going to happen again!!” His muscles started to swell as if they were being pumped up. His cock lengthened and hardened into a massive, shiny club. His whole body flexed, and he groaned loudly. I could tell it felt good, but he was trying to hold back. “Aidan, it’s okay! Let yourself enjoy it! You deserve everything you’ve worked for.” He started stroking his cock, now slick with precum. “I want to see how far you can take this. I want to see what you look like at 1000 lbs. Make me proud, young man!” “OH, GOD! DAD! IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD!” He let go of his cock and watched it stretch just a little bit longer and a little bit thicker. The head was huge and purple and constantly oozing. His giant balls plumped up and pulled his sack taut. My son flexed his enormous biceps and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. It was cocky, for sure. He was grateful, I think. But there was something else… He growled and stepped closer, towering over me. Flexing his hard, hairy pecs. He reached out and grabbed a handful of my shirt with one hand and effortlessly hoisted me into the air. “Fuck, yeah, Pops!” He flexed his other arm as hard as he could and pulled my face close to his. “I could throw you right through that fucking wall!” I looked into his eyes and said, “I know, son. Of course, you could.” He smiled a little. “But you know I won’t.” “That’s right. But I like knowing that you could.” “FUCK!” He moaned, and his cock spit out more precum. “Why does that bone me so much?” “Because you know I want this as much as you do.” “Uuuugh! Yes!” He lifted me higher and arched his back. Veins popped out on his abs, visible through the silky black hair. “I fucking knew you would help me! I don’t know how, but I fucking knew it! Maybe it was in one of those dreams…” “Maybe. Does it matter?” “Are you sure you’re on board with this? Are you willing to do everything I asked you to do?” “Hell yes, Aidan! I can’t wait to get started. This is gonna be great! I can’t wait to see you squat a semi-truck.” “OH, FUUUCK!! YOU’RE THE BEST DAD EVER!” He shook me in his fist like a rag doll. “I’m gonna hug the shit out of you! I hope I don’t break you!” He lifted me over his pulsating monster of a cock and pressed me against his hot chest and abs, wrapping his massive arms around me as gently as he could for someone so strong. It felt amazing. “I’M SORRY, DAD, BUT I’M GONNA MAKE A HUGE FUCKING MESS! I CAN’T CONTROL IT ANYMORE!” I patted a slab of muscle on his side. “That’s okay, son. Let it go! Enjoy it!” “UUUUUUUGH!!” He groaned in ecstasy and let loose probably the biggest load of cum he ever produced. I heard it splattering against the far wall and the ceiling. Jet after jet after jet, as if he hadn’t just pumped out a huge load under the dining room table. I patted his thick, hot muscle again. “That’s my boy! You did great. I’m so proud of you!” The End
  20. EtherealGrowth

    A friend like me

    With the new year commencing and fresh ideas churning in my mind, I find it is time I share a story once again. This theme keeps on lingering in my mind and it is just very fitting for this particular audience. I've written a similar story once before but unfortunately it has vanquished into the abyss after the server crash. You could say the story you're about to read, especially it's details, also faded away in time... A friend like me - Chapter 1: It's a BAZAAR world out there The thing with fairytale, myths, and folklore is that the details and often not so happy-go-lucky endings are frequently left out or changed. This story is no exception to that phenomenon, which is why it is definitely worth reading. Now... let's begin our story in the land where caravan camels roam. Dashing through the narrow streets, products rolling of carts, freshly hung laundry falling on the dusty paths, and sweat travelling down his body. A quick, hooded, figure made his way through the busy Bazaar aiming for the outskirts of the city, a bag hanging over his shoulders. Tumultuous sounds heard all over the place. "STOP! THIEF!!!" a buldering voice echoed from behind him. The chasers were surely gaining on him and it was almost over for him. In a split second a little throwing-knife slid from under his sleeve and with a flick of his wrist it dashed toward the inner gate. The knife made a clean cut through the rope and the gate started to lower. The figure dug under the falling gate and a loud crash followed as it hit the ground. He looked back through the gate's bars and saw an exhausted Royal Guard unit; led by THE Razoul himself. "Always fancy seeing you my fellow Agrabahnians and have an enchanting day" the supposed thieve said. Quickly the figure disappeared into the busy crowd of working folk and continued his way onward. While our stranger is continuing his way, I'll shed some light on the time and scenery we're dealing with. This story, as you've probably already guessed, takes place in Agrabah; wealthiest of the kingdoms in the Seven Deserts and most strategically located within the Citadel. It is currently under the rule of the Hamed Sultanate, with its current head of state: Sultan Hamed III. A city of mystery, of enchantment, and the finest merchandise this side of the River Jordan! A real melting pot of social classes. Before I start rambling about this bustling city, let's get back to the story. Our mysterious stranger had made his way to the infamous, Thieves Quarters, a place where crime was the norm and not the exception. Not the safest place to be you'd expect but because of its reputation, not many dared go there. Amidst the Thieves Quarters was the Street of Forty Thieves, where our protagonist reached into the well to grab a key. He walked up to a stack of barrels, inserted the key somewhere on the side, turned it and entered the building through the entrance. He was greeted by the sweet smell of perfume lingering in the room. He looked around but saw no-one, he shrugged and dumped the bag in the kitchen area. "You must be Devi," a female voice said. His heart jumped as he turned around and saw a young woman brew herself some tea. "Fuck, you scared the shit out of me... But you're correct m'lady!" Devi said. The woman laughed softly and said: "I heard you had some rooms available, you know, the of the grid kinda type". "Definitely, however I usually hear about arrivals from my companions beforehand," he replied. The lady apologised and told him she would pay extra for the inconvenience. Devi walked over to a little counter, bowed down, pointing his juicy cakes up to the sky, and reached for a key. He pointed to the stairs and directed her to her room: "This is yours, make yourself at home. It ain't much but you won't be bothered by whomever you're running from". "I'm not running from anyone perse," she said, "I'm merely here for observation; Celeste is the name by the way". "I honestly don't need to know miss, the less I know, the better I can protect you" Devi said. Celeste smiled and handed Devi the money, a bunch of exotic coins, but whatever. Devi left the room and started stocking the cabinets with the products he "brought"... You must know Agrabah isn't the easiest city to live in as a mere street rat, or mice if you're female, but juggling a couple of jobs most can get by. This story however, takes place amidst the hottest summer recorded yet. Most crops had decayed, the harvest was practically ruined and the lower class was starting to crumble. It is still a flourishing city, with all its export of silks and jewels, but the scarce import of food is mainly directed towards the upper-class. All the fault of the cowardly Sultan Hamed. "Challenging times are they not..." Celeste said spontaneously. "By the djinn!" Devi said, "How are you so quiet?! But yeah, this Sultan is really making a mess out of it." Devi continued stocking his supply as Celeste stumbled across the walls of the room. It was incredibly hot in the room, the sweat pretty much streaming from his face. Devi took of his hood, revealing his tan and muscular arms, covered in intricate tattoos. Devi had always been quite athletic and was generally gifted in the muscle department. His height wasn't spectacular at 5'7" but he made up for it in raw, pure muscle strength. His arms were big, sturdy forearms, big begins slithering over them, topped with perfectly rounded, 20-inch, biceps. You could clearly sea the musculature of his upper body through the thin and drenched tanktop he wore underneath. Celeste glanced at him, blushed, and quickly continued scanning the shelves. Devi was finished stocking up and quickly smelled his armpits and they smelled utterly foul, like beyond the musk that would make the average human feel horny. "Who are this?" Celeste asked holding a piece of papyrus. Devi walked over and said: "It's me and my mom, she actually started this safe haven years ago. Initially so my dad could return home because he was falsely accused by some vizier." "And this?" Celeste asked. "That's Al, my bonus brother, and his pet monkey Abu. We took him in as a kid and cared for him, since his parents abandoned him. I was always ready to fight for him, good guy! Haven't seen him in a while though..." Devi said. Celeste looked over her shoulder, right into Devi's amber eyes, then looking at his chiseled chin and dark beard covering his chin, his man-bun sagging from its hairband. Devi also glanced into her light grey, almost white, eyes and quickly announced he was gonna wash himself real quick. He rushed towards the washing room on the patio, where he undressed, and started cleaning himself up a bit. After a while Devi was all cleaned and made his way to his room. In all the commotion he totally forgot that he had a guest over and well before he knew it he heard a clattering sound. Celeste had dropped a little plant in a pot when she saw him walking towards her. There Devi stood, butt-naked, his dark long locks still a bit wet and hanging over his pecs. Celeste was presently surprised by what she saw. A beautiful young man with stunning arms, his pecs also covered in tattoos and bulging outwards, topped with pointy nipples. The kind of pecs that sensually bounce when you walk. Underneath a beautiful 6-pack of abs. His whole body was covered in a musky layer of hair. Devi's legs were also impressive, they were thick, you could clearly point out all the different muscle groups within them. Mostly she was amazed by the 6-inch flaccid cock that was dangling between his legs, promptly pressed forward by a pair of luscious balls the size of eggs. "I'm so incredibly sorry, I totally forgot you were here," Devi stammered, "I'll get you some food on the house as compensation!" Celeste looked at him and grinned. "I know a better way to compensate me..." she said and with a flick of her wrist here beautiful, white, silk dress loosened and fell on the floor. The room now filled with two naked individuals. Devi couldn't control his lust and like an animal he rushed towards Celeste. He lifted her up and pressed her body against the wall. The two started kissing furiously as they made their way to Devi's bedroom. On the way Devi's 6-inch flaccid dick turned into a juicy 10-inch poker with a mushroom head on top. Devi threw Celeste on the bed and carefully started caressing her body. She wore beautiful jewelry and wore a silky cover over her heaving breasts. Devi removed the cover and continued kissing her boobs. Celeste started pounding his muscles while Devi was giving her all the poses. He then flipped her around, grabbed her hair, and pounded her for a good while in doggy-style. "RRRRRrrrrrhaaaa... rrrhhaaaa," echoed through the room with every powerful thrust, making Celeste's boobs jiggle up and down, as well as Devi's juicy ass. Just before he climaxed, he pulled out, and a sweet stream of cum landed on Celeste's breasts. Celeste hadn't had such great sex in a long while but was flustered by what happened when Devi climaxed. His eyes, interestingly enough, flared a bright amber coloured light, almost like a flame, when he did. Without giving it much thought, the two slowly drifted away into the world of dreams, a world of endless possibility... Meanwhile within the inner walls of the city, in the Royal Guard HQ, the mood was quite different. Razoul had returned from the Bazaar with the taxes they'd earned from directing the goods to the right merchants. While the poor despised this system, the rich, and mainly a certain vizier, wazir, alchemist, whatever you wanna call him, benefitted the most from it. Almost as if he had a hand in enforcing this new law, like he planted this idea into the Sultan's mind... "You bunch of second-best imbeciles!" a voice bellowed, "How can you lose all that valuable merchandise to a mere street rat". "Vizier Jafar, we were simply outnumbered..." Razoul lied. "Yeah yeah, 10 guys" ... "At least 30 guys were in on it" two guards said at the same time. Razoul quickly shushed them. "Lying now, are we?" Jafar said, "For that you'll be punished Razoul! Leave us be you two!" With a swish of Jafars cobra-headed staff the doors opened and the two rushed out. "Time to pay, my little servant!" Jafar said with a grinn on his face. Razoul undressed, revealing his big and bulky muscle swine body and a leather jockstrap containing a small and fat cock. Razoul was a big dude, about 300 pounds, bulky muscles all over his body, a real muscle swine kinda body, a thick layer of hair all over. A real jiggly bubble butt portruding from behind. He got down on his knees, pulled Jafar's robe to the side and started caressing Jafar's monster cock. It was long and veiny with a cockring on top. "Choke you useless piece of meat!" Jafar said, grabbing Razoul's head and pressing it firmly on his groin. Razoul gave Jafar an insane blowjob, using all the tricks he had up his sleeve. All the while Jafar was humiliating him for his tiny cock. At the end of the heavenly blowjob Razoul's eyes were starting to tear up from the ginormous stallion. Jafar pulled out and said: "Yes... YES... YEHES!!! Serve me, my little bitch!" as he came all over Razoul's face. Thick streaks of cum still running over Razoul's face as Jafar commanded him to get back to work. Eventhough Jafar knew Razoul enjoyed this punishment, it was still worth it considering the immense pleasure it gave him. Razoul was about to leave when Jafar asked: "Enlighten me, cumface, who stole the goods?" "Don't think we've ever caught him sir!" Razoul answered, "He did, however, have very noticeable tattoos om his hands and chest and his eyes had a very mystical amber kinda colour." Jafar mumbled something as he pulled a book from the shelf, opening a secret entrance to his system of tunnels and alleyways throughout the city, quickly disappearing into the darkness...
  21. Bigrowinggod

    Man up runt

    Im still working on my other story wanted to try somthing a little different. first person but with mutliple perspectives Chapter 1 Steve pov "I just dont get whats wrong with him his younger brother owns a sucsesful startup and his sister is on the road to be governor in a few years" i say slamming down another drink "like how is the oldest such a screwup hes supposed to be an example for them but all he does is play video games for money like man up your 23" . "Dosnt he pay most of your bills at this point though" one of my drunk friends taunts before downing another shot "only cause i let him and it dosnt matter anyways he needs a real job not some hobby he can make money off of" "Well if you want him to man up i may have somthing my job has had me researching male enhancement might push him towards the right path only thing is i cant say its 100% safe yet due to lack of test subjects"says jim the only person in stem in the building and a drinking buddy Maybe it was becuase i was drunk but i took the offer even with my closest friend clark telling me it was shameful to let my son be used as a test subject i didnt care my wimp of a son would finally man up a bit. Raymond pov "I get that im not as sucsesful as jannet or zack but im doing well for myself you know" eric my fwb having listened this rant many times before rolls his eyes "dude normally im fine listening to your rants but i came here cuase im horny dude now shut that mouth and fuck me" before kissing me to shut me up "Damn guess your really are addicted to this huh" i say pulling out my 8 inches "finally the real reason im here" eric jokes as he strips revealing his toned body lays on my bed his ass in the air. I grin seeing he is already ready i thrust into him. I keep a steady rythm going until i hear dad stumble into the house i start moving alot faster making sure he can hear erics moans as he walks by. Steve pov "Fuck my sons not only a faluire but a slut too" i say bitterly "well thats going to change" i mumble to as i put the case jim gave me under the bed grinning as i remember what he said "Hes going to be a real man by the end of the week"
  22. Buenas, para los que no le conocen, ya llevo un rato en esta comunidad, trate de publicar antes pero no podía seguir con esa historia, pero quería contar más, dejaré aparte la primera historia que hice, quizás después de la retome, quizás no . Otra cosa que aclarar es que, está historia va a tomar en cuenta que quieren que pase en el siguiente capítulo, elegirán alguna de lss ideas que propongan y también pueden comentar algunas que les gustaría ver. Está historia está totalmente en español, si alguien quiere traducirla puede hacerlo. Capítulo 1 tesoros del ayer. Mi nombre es Michel, tengo 19 años, soy un estudiante universitario de intercambio del otro lado del país, vivo en un departamento con mi roomy Carl, ambos vamos a la misma universidad pero diferentes carreras, el va a medicina y yo voy a nutricionista, amo los deportes y el cuidado del cuerpo, aunque no es que haya logrado destacar del todo en alguno, más bien era de la gestión de tiempos y estrategias, así que quería llegar a ser entrenador, ¿Cuál deporte? Uno de boxeo, mi abuelo era antes un luchador, y en casa siempre había recortes de periódico y algunos trofeos de su carrera como luchador, una parte de mi quería llegar a ser como él, yo estando en el ring pero mi madre nunca me lo perdonaría, aunque eso nunca me impidió intentarlo alguna que otra vez a escondidas. Cuándo me da tiempo la universidad, voy al gimnasio de mi localidad, uno de los más viejos y reconocidos de la ciudad, Empire of steel (el imperio de acero). Muchas leyendas se forjaron ahí dentro, o eso dice su folleto de entrada, la verdad es que el lugar se siente viejo, atrapado en la década de los años 90 pero está en buenas condiciones. No llevo tanto en el gym, apenas voy para mí segundo mes aquí, así que no es que tenga la mejor condición, soy peso ligero aún, pero al menos puedo presumir que tengo el estómago marcado. Mis estadísticas hijo: Altura: 1,75 m (5,7 pies) Peso: 70 kg (154 libras) Masa corporal grasa: 10% Tez: delgada No era nada sorprendente, mi metabolismo es muy rápido así que me cuesta subir peso, aunque estoy aprendiendo a como subirlo con mis clases, quiero estar totalmente seguro en lo que estoy haciendo antes de meterme a una dieta y arruinar mi progreso sin querer. E tratado de hacer que Carl se una al gym, no para que se vea espectacular sino que se cuide, él es un genio pero con malos hábitos y lo sabe, es un poco más alto que yo y aunque no come mucha comida chatarra es muy sedentario así que tiene grasa acumulada. Pero aún así si tengo a alguien que me acompañe en el gym, es mi guía aquí desde que me uní, David, o como es conocido, el joven Hércules, un tipo bastante guapo, de buena mandíbula con barba corta, unos hermosos ojos verdes y su cabello castaño en punta, tiene mi misma edad pero es mucho más grande que yo, no solo con su altura de 1.85 m (6.1 ft) sino también de peso, él ya es semi pesado y cerca de llegar al pesado, con unos buenos 85 kilos (187 libras) de músculo, también quizás algo de grasa,no tiene los abdominales tan marcados pero no puedes discutir con sus brazos que parece que tiene una pelota debajo de su piel, venas gruesas que registran todo su brazo hasta los dedos de las manos, un gran pecho amplio el cual se nota que se depila seguido para que se aprecie las fibras musculares cuando levante la barra de 118 kilos (260 libras) su era lo más increíble que tiene, podría cargarme con facilidad si él lo quisiera, y hacer peso muerto conmigo; él también trabaja las piernas, siempre usando shorts cortos para mostrar sus piernas gruesas tan anchas y bastante bien marcadas que me recordaba a un tronco de un árbol mediano, fuerte y que solo crecerá para ser más grande e imponente, eso era lo que se esperaba de David, que llegó a ser un culturista de renombre pero él no está tan interesado,más bien lo atribuye más a algo genético para estar así que realmente esforzarse. Lo envidio y admiro en secreto. Pero basta de él, debo concentrarme en mi rutina la cuál era el pecho el día de hoy, estaba levantando unos 59 kg (130 lb) no era mucho pero era un progreso bastante bueno, antes y ni podía levantar la barra, si que estoy feliz por ello. Mientras iba terminando con algo de cardio en la máquina de correr, siempre me preguntaba, qué personas habrán recorrido estos pasillos, correr sobre estás máquinas, levantar los pesos más pesados, y llevar en alto el nombre del gimnasio que los llevaron hasta su máximo potencial ; claro que estaban colgadas las fotos de esas leyendas en el mural de la fama al entrar al gimnasio, pero a lo que me refiero es a sus historias, que tanto trabajo les tomó llegar hasta la cima. De cualquier modo estaba internet para ello y ya también era hora de irme,eran las 9 de la noche y tenía que dormir temprano para los exámenes de mañana, fui a las regaderas y estuve ahí un poco más de lo normal, tenía asuntos pendientes ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde, cuerpos esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se pueda tocar y llevar a casa. Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello.tenía asuntos ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde cuerpos, esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se puede tocar y llevar a casa. Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello. tenía asuntos ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde cuerpos, esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se puede tocar y llevar a casa.Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello. — ¡Oye, Michel! ¿Qué haces aquí tan tarde todavía? — Dijo David semi desnudo, apenas con una toalla en la cintura y acercándose a mí, había olvidado que su casillero está cerca del mío, el número 47. — Oh… hola, David, yo sólo… quería esforzarme más este día, ya sabes, poder conocer mis límites y expandirlos, como tú siempre dices. — le contesté con algo de vergüenza en el tono aunque seguía teniendome como si no me importara. — Pero bueno, mira que tenemos aquí, ¡un futuro luchador que quiere llegar lejos! Eso campeón, da tu mejor esfuerzo. — me toma del cuello con su brazo para poder despeinar mi cabello aún mojado. Él siempre es así, bastante amigable, activo y que no conoce el espacio personal, aunque no me importaba mucho estar tan cerca de él. — ¡Oye, basta! Ya me había peinado. —me quejé aunque riendo un poco, disfrutó realmente de su compañía, como el hermano mayor que nunca tuve. — Solo me alegra que estés dando lo mejor de ti mismo. Recuerdo que cuando llegaste eras un insecto palo andante, ahora ya se puede ver carne debajo de esa piel. — Me suelta y prosigue con lo suyo, abriendo su casillero y comenzando con su desodorante de menta y romero, típico de él, casi que ya son olores característicos de David. Mientras tanto voy dando unos tacos de ojo de vez en cuando, para ver cómo es que luchar para ponerse su playera blanca intencionalmente de una talla más pequeña de la que debería de llevar. — Oye, ¿quieres que te ayude? Parece que ahora sí vas a tener que cambiar tu armario por unas tallas más grandes. — Naaa, yo puedo, quiero llegar al punto dónde se desgarre con solo hacer flexiones, quizás una semana más y no tendré cambio para salir del gimnasio decentemente. Me sonrojé con el pensamiento de solo imaginar esa escena de verlo aún más grande y notar como su ropa se va desgarrando frente a mí. Por suerte él parecía tener prisa, se vistió rápido y se despidió de mí a su manera, un choque de puños y un abrazo fuerte para presumir fuerza, aunque… solo conmigo hace eso. Ya casi terminaba con mis cosas, solo faltaba luchar con el casillero para que cerrase, de que no te iban a poder robar nada podía casi confirmar eso, algunass estaban ya oxidadas o algunas llaves perdidas, ese era el caso incluso del casillero de al lado , el casillero 23. Ese casillero no se a abierto en años, según las leyendas y rumores del gym, le pertenecía a un culturista de principios de los 2000, Amari Stone, un culturista que estuvo a punto de ganar el Mr Olympia dos veces , y en las dos quedando en segundo lugar, era un hombre con casi el doble de ancho de una persona, pesando el triple y aunque no era tan alto, definitivamente tampoco era bajo, medía 1,82 m (6 ft). Su carrera parecía que iba por gran camino, pero a sus 37 años tuvo problemas cardíacos por un soplo en el corazón no diagnosticado.Y murio a sus 38, Iba saliendo del local, pasando por el muro de la fama, de los que llegaron a llevar en grande el nombre del gym, y ahí estaba la foto del legendario Amari Stone, compitiendo en el Mr Olympia del 2002. Me acerqué para verlo mejor en la foto, aunque no sabía bien sus estadísticas, diría que fácilmente pesaba 130 kg (287 lb) estaba claramente definida, sus músculos eran grandes si, pero en buena proporción, aunque a él siempre le gustaba resaltar pecho y brazos, además de sus piernas . Muy parecido a David… en ese sentido, quizás si él se interesará llegaría tan lejos como Amari. Toque un poco la foto, recordando los dedos por el cuerpo de Amari, imaginando cómo se sentiría un cuerpo así de trabajado. Y cuando ya iba a irme, que escucho que algo se cae y se rompe, temía lo peor, me giré y ahí en el suelo estaba el marco de fotos roto. Trate de rápido recoger los fragmentos de vidrio y la foto antes de que viniera el hijo del dueño, aunque no era severo como su padre, tampoco es que me llevara muy bien con él, era un idiota que abusaba de esteroides y acosaba algunas chicas, por suerte ahora mismo quizás y está en privado con una en el baño.Así que solo iba a poner la foto en el escritorio y tirar el marco, pero entre los trozos de vidrio y la foto, estaba un pedazo de metal que no correspondía con el marco de fotos, lo tome con cuidado y al levantarlo ví que era una llave con el número 23 en ella, no lo pensé mucho, ------------------------------------- ¿Qué les gustaría que haya en el casillero número 23? -Esteroides especiales. -Algo para pedir deseos. -Algo para robar músculos. -Ropa usada. Los leo quiero que sea una historia larga y con la participación de la gente.
  23. Mickyh32

    Jake: The Brother In Charge PT1

    Jack and his younger brother got home from the gym. Jack unlocked the door, “ get inside now boy!” He grabbed hold of dean's shirt and flung him into the house. Dean went flying into the wall with a thud. Dean got back up and rubbed his shoulder. “ Wow master, you threw me like I was a rag doll!” He said in amazement, a huge smile beaming on his face. Jack slammed the door behind him, “ Listen shit bag, You are a rag doll to me boy, a skinny weak runt I'm gonna have so much fun with. Your my slave now, you do exactly what i say boy, I own you, I'm bigger, stronger and far superior than you in every way possible. You go to bed when I say, you get up when I get up, you cook what I tell you to cook, you get the picture boy?” “ Y y yesss master, anything for you, you are by far the biggest and strongest person I have ever seen!” Dean replied. “ Would master like me to do anything?” he asked Jack. Jack walked over to his younger bro, grabbed him by the neck and lifted him high in the air. Dean's feet were dangling at least 3ft off the floor, Dean was gasping for air, his legs flaing about, he looked down at his brothers menacing face, his eyes bulged at the sight of jacks huge, ripped, juicy muscled forearm easily hosting his light body up, Dean also had a view of his brothers immense pecs and collosal shoulders, both rippled with devastating power. Jack finally drops Dean on the floor, Dean coughs and splutters as air returns to his lungs. Jack stood over him his massive bulk dominating the space around them. “ Master would like to know what it feels like for you to be so easily man handled by your brother, how it makes you want to worship my huge muscles and witness my immense power?” he asked. He folded his huge arms across his even bigger chest, both fighting of space. Dean looks up at his brother, watching his huge devastating muscles fight for superiority on his body. “ It feels fantastic master, you are so strong you could lift anything, I would happily let you man handle me all time if it means I get to see your fantastic muscles in action. I would love nothing more than to lay my hands on your perfect body master and feel the power those huge muscles possess”. He replied. Jack smiled menacingly. “ Get up boy, take your shirt off!” He demanded. Dean picked himself up and lifted his shirt off his ripped body and tossed it on the sofa. He looked down at his lean ripped body then up to his brothers gargantuan body, he sighed in embarrassment. “ What would you like me to do master?” Dean asked. “ I want you to flex for me boy, I want to see how small and worthless you really are!” with that Jack shoved his bro towards the wall length mirror, Dean flew across the room and stumbled into the mirror. Jack prowled up behind him, he had a tape measure in his hand. “ Flex your bicep now boy.” Jack demanded. Dean knew better than to disagree so he reluctantly accepted and flexed his left bicep, a small hard ripped peak rose up his arm. Jack sniggered, “ my god so small!” He wrapped the tape round dean's arm, “ Christ you are pathetic boy, 12 inches! “ Dean hung his head,” yes master I am pathetic.” Jack then wrapped the tape round dean's chest and again chortled, “ 28in, disgusting, lift your left side shorts up you weed!” Dean obeyed and lifted his shorts up, his skinny athletic legs had a light coating of hair on, Jack knelt down and wrapped the tape round the upper part of the thigh. “ 23in, you are just one lanky piece of shit aren't you boy, how can you be happy looking like that, I've got broomsticks that are bigger than you, here.” Jack throws the tape at Dean, “ time to see what real muscle looks like boy!” Jack started by flexing his gargantuan biceps, peaks that would make Everest look small rose imperiously up his arm, muscle grew on top of muscle. “ Whoa…….” Dean moaned. His hands shaking as he approached his brothers immense arms, he began wrapping it round the peak, he joined the ends together and read the numbers. “ Fuuuuuckkkkk, 34in master, your a monster!” Jack cackled with delight, “ yes a boy I'm a monster, 34 in arms, the best in the business, I'd wipe the floor in any competition, now my chest boy!” Dean moved the tape to Jacks impossibly pecs, he started to wrap but jacks body was so huge and wide he had trouble keeping it there,” er er er master can you hold the tape please? “ he asked. Jack laughed, “ am I to wide for your pathetic skinny arms boy, there! “ Jack placed a meaty finger on the tape, Dean continued round his brothers bulk, he eventually joined the ends. “ 78in master, unbelievable! “ Dean was mesmerized by his masters sheer size. “ I could fit your skinny assbody in my pec gap and crush you with there power. Dean shuddered with fear as he took the tape away. “ Now my legs boy!” Jack lifted his shorts leg up to reveal the thickest most densely populated leg of muscle anyone had seen, ridges upon ridges of muscle piled high and wide engulfed his quads. Dean gulped hard, “ Sweet Jesus master your legs are freakishly beastly!” He began to wrap the tape round jacks meaty quad, the two ends met, “ 65in master, incredible! You are a collosal behemoth! “ Dean was opened mouthed at his brothers unbelievable body. “ Boy, come and kneel in front of my leg and open your legs,” demanded Jack. Dean knelt down and spread his legs a little, Jack moved closer placing his right foot in the gap in dean's legs, then looked in the mirror. “ Look boy my quad is wider than your upper body hahah” it was true, one of jacks thighs stuck out at least 15cm each side of dean's body. Dean was drooling. “ Master you are a dream come true, you are ginormous, stronger than anything I know, I am nothing compared to you, I'm weak, worthless, I am……….” He was about to continue but got interrupted by Jack. “ Enough of the talk boy, I know your weak, pathetic, worthless, a sad existence. Christ if you weren't my brother i would have destroyed you by now, you see boy, I want more, much more and your gonna help me get it, I wanna grow more bigger and stronger, so the question is do you wanna help me? Choose your answer carefully! “ Jack cracked his bull thick neck, the sound alone sent shivers down dean's spine. “ Y yyyess master anything you want I will get for you just say!” Dean knelt down and bowed before his brother. “ That's a good boy, now I want food, I need to eat big, get cooking for me boy,time to grow!” Jack ordered Dean to the kitchen. Jack got Dean to cook 1.3kg of lean mince, 500g of wholewheat pasta, 4 scope of optimum nutrition weight gainer and 500g of instant oats, it came to a whopping 6151 cals. Jack slammed it down in 20 mins. “ Boy, get down the shops and get me more food!” “ yes master”. Dean put on his coat and went shopping.
  24. Hey there, as a passionate fan of @GiganticBeast's massive fan(a)tasies I finally decided to collect my drafts of "stolen" text-sheds and made a (improved) transcript. Whilst doing it I learned lots of hidden techniques in telling growth by just "All Dialoge" and the art of doing those audios with driving passion and good one-man voice-acting. I also loved the way of sharing fantasies in fantasies... and MAN there you go with the hot ideas to give all listeners/readers a proper boner! And yes, I enjoyed this particular scenario a LOT. I hope you do as well! Best experience would be to read this while listening to it! Enjoy! :3 -------- Source of the edited audio-transcript: Pornhub - gigantic_beast – “Servicing a Raunchy Growing Trucker” (GiganticBeast @ Twitter) - https://de.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5f17482069df0 The trucker and the boy A door closes with heavy steps haling in a toilet-room. An old ventilator causes noises in the background. The steps approach a clanging pissoir. The big noisemaking man moans in relieve while strong pissing-noises break the otherwise calm environment… „Oooooooohhh, there we go… Ooh fuck-“ The sound of pissing vanishes abruptly as the man catches someone filming… „Huh? … … Hey! Ha… Wanna take a picture, boy? It will last longer that way.“. He flushes the toilet and steps towards the intruder – a young and a head shorter man… „No no. Don’t back away now! Come on! You won’t get to be modest now. I see the cellphone there. Did you think you can sneak a pic of that fat fucking cock and go back to your girlfriend at the parking lot? Is that what you thought?” The small man is silent in shock and glances at the big man, making him chuckle… „Go on, put yours out!“ The small man falls silent in surprise and looks confused at the big man … „Yeah, you heard me! You saw mine, now let’s see yours.”. The small man asks whether he shall put away the camera … “No, leave it filming!” Then there is an unsure silence of what to do … “Come on, take your little dick out! I can see it throbbing against those tight pants of yours.“. The small man’s slowly pulls down his trousers … „Ughh… Fuck, stop going so SLOW!“. With new loud steps the big man approaches the boy like a bull … „I don’t have all day for this. Get over here!“. He makes some noises by fumbling with his big hands … „Ah fuck, you’re hard as hell, aren’t you?” The bull sighs by the almost mockable sight of having a small rock-hard man-meat in his hand… “God, that‘s as big as it gets?” Then there is an embarrassed silence of truth … „Shit, boy, mine’s not even half hard and I am TWICE as fucking big…” The small man’s interested look makes the big man up for action… “That’s what you wanted to see, huh? Your little girlfriend waiting outside-“ The sound of a first little stretching makes the big man groan for a moment… “-waiting for YOU…“. More stretching, halting with a moan… „Guh… God, have you any idea of what you are in here for? For fucking hours, I bet, you just wait to see some big fat fucking trucker cock, don’t you?“. Another pulse of stretch… „Hayeah, you film it and then go home and worship it, don’t you?” In a short silence the small horny man stares embarrassed and simultaneously desperately hungry for touching … “Fucking beg me for it then, boy! Fucking beg me for this big fat cock, you little-dicked boy-bitch! Go ahead and ask me for it!” A modest question is being asked … “Ah yeah… Tell me how bad you need it! Say ‘Beast sir, can I PLEASE touch your big fat swelling god cock?’. Do it! Fucking SAY IT!“. Hearable swelling with a pleasured moan of delight follows as the demanded words are punnily repeated - more willingly said than both could have imagined … „Oh yeah! Here... Can you see it growing? Do you see it getting harder? Oh yeah, look at those veins up and down on it!” Accumulating ripping and moaning with groans of pleasure. A hearable building excitement whilst the sound of skin being rubbed slowly. First parts of the man’s clothes start to stretch… “Oh yeah! Feel it thr-THROB… like the veins of my big bowlingball-biceps! You haven’t seen a man like this, have you? I am a fucking dream come true to you, aren’t I? How many times have you-” An intense thump of growth and longer moan of the big man follows… “-have you dragged your little girlfriend out to this truckstop – desperate for something like this?”. Short mocking and giggling as the boy gazes amazed … „Tell me you dream of this! That I am a fucking-”. Sound of a first big rip occurs… „-dream come true for you. Oh yeah, I am something you have been jacking your little dick off to since you are a teen… Go ahead!” Another mocking and pleased giggle as the gaze of the boy continues to drool… „Go ahead, you can touch it. I know you are fucking dying to. Get your little hands around this fat monster! Feel it!“ A fat intense stretch down south with another slight moan underlines the moment… “Uhh yeah… -feel it!” A steady growth continues with noisy rumbling. Skins touch with anticipation with moans and groans. The big man pauses every now and then because of the stretching happening … “Yeah, feel it-. Huh-ye, its big and I am a grower too… … … Aaah yeah, feel your fingers around that fat fucking shaft! Run that thumb up my … uhh yeah … up my veins, down the back. Do you feel that(?) … pumpin’ … and … grooowin’, pushing your fingers apart… … yeah! Fuck … huhhh … I want you to picture this when you’re fucking that girl of yours out there. Picture MY fat god damn-“ A short surge rumbles through the room… “-BEAST … Ooh, yeah … growing and … STRETCHING her apart as you are begging me for just a little taste of it… oh, yeah … this is what a MAN’s cock is. This is what a BEASTs cock i-hh-s-Ohhhh… … Almost pushing you back there, ai righ’? God DAMN, this feels good!“. Huffing with a smile and a chuckle sound as the boy moans in anticipation… „You are trembling, boy. You are like a dog who chase cars and you finally got one. What you gonna do with it now?”. A slight thud on the ground… „Ooh, on your knees already? FUuuck… I like thaat!“. The boy growls of surprise and ask a question of wondering about the big cock… „Yeah, it‘s still growing…“. The small man asks about the measurements… „Uh no, I don‘t know how big it gets, I never measured…”. The big man huffs in pleasure. Steady unnoticeable growth coming calmly through as there is a longer moment of calm. Comments off disbelieve are being spoken… „Do I look like I am fucking kiddin‘? Oohh, yeah, just LICK that monster! Slide that tongue-hh… up and … OH … hooooh-” A big breather of surprise whilst a halt of growth underlines the statement… “Oh BOY, right inside of you! There you go!” Rumbles of growth happen in three mini-waves with rippling clothes plus a growl – indicating the pleasant blowjob… “FUCK, god, I’m so hot … you make me … feel so fucking … BIIGhh …” A question about the strange noises follows… „What? … Ah yeah … don’t worry about that sound! Just … keep worshiping that big … fat fucking cock. … Oh yeah…” Another obvious question arises to the small man… „Nah, it‘s just getting hard … People don’t fucking grow like that, man … just … fucking enjoy it! Put it up against your arm! Yeah, it is fatter than your wrist already.“. Interruption Sudden noises from outside appear. The big man grunts in disturbance. Pulling out, a growl happens with the teeth grinding against the cockhead… „Uhgn-shit! ... Arrrhh... Someone is coming… Ghh… Get into the fucking stall! I am not done with you yet.“. With quick steps and pushing of bodies the big man closes the door to the stall and locks it bearably. Low volume grunts of relieve and a short silence are followed by the opening of the main door to the toilet-room. Hearable steps of high heels are coming in. Halting steps lead to sudden two knocks on the recently closed stall… „Its occupied…“ The woman stubbornly but vainly pulls on the doorhandle… „I SAID its occupied!“. A loud whiff and a sight of the person reacts to the deep rumbling impatient statement. She leaves the room which gets silent again. After moments of only the ventilator vibrating, the boy complains about being cramped. A comment which makes the deepened voice regaining volume and breath in and out excitedly … „Ye, this stall IS tiny. I fucking love it. I feel … huuhh-“. A pleasured grunt with a hearable flap against skin by the big grown man happens… „... so… BIIIG! … fuck yeah…“ Hilarious short laughter follows by the big man as the boy stares in utter surprise - awkwardly starring. Then boy then asks about the big man’s height … “What? No, I was always that tall. Calm down! Get fuckin-“ The bigger man growls in pleasure, whilst the pull of the boy’s head onto the big cock happens… “-get fucking sucking, boy!”. Then there is lots of fapping and wet noises of lips and blow-jobbing… „Fuck, this is incredible!” The boy asks his first question again… “Ye, it just wasn’t hard, right? It wasn’t all the way hard yet, right? Just…” The boy mumbles in curiosity and asks about its final size. “No, I don’t know how big it gets… just keep-Guh-” Moan of pleasure… „God, yeah, keep touching! Keep STROKING!”. Sloshes of one cum-shot seed into the boy's mouth and another one onto the floor. Stunned and overwhelmed by the big load the boy asks whether the big man just came… „Ohh, whaaat? Can‘t you take a little pre?” A loud shout of disbelief of the boy sounds around. He states something hilarious, making the big man laugh … “Hahaha! FUCK me… boy, you never even suck a cock?!” Silence. The boy nods… “God, I swear if I feel your tooth for another second I gonna fucking break your jaw with my cock!” Gasp of surprise happens as the boy states an interfering wish… „Hhh-fuck yeah… What? You wanna… you wanna feel the rest of me? Fine, fine, feel what you want…“ The big man moans in delight. Both are heavily breathing in due the satisfaction by the hot-blooded worship… “Go ahead, yeah. You can-“ The first surge of growth after the interruption intervenes – being silently controlled… “-feel my legs.” The big man gasps in utter surprise… „Fuck… they gotta be THICK already! Have to be under my rig all day… MAN, and look at those fucking guns! I am a fucking-“ The big man growls pleased and massively turned on by his observation… „-BEAST!“. Slightly louder more prominently sounds of stretching reappear, making the boy ask again… „I said: Don’t mind that sound! I am just … huhh … focus on those balls! Pull them out for me!“ Little extra growth happens due to the groping and kneading of the balls… “Ohhh, fuck them now… My jocks are getting so tight!”. The boy suddenly asks whether he grows bigger all over… „Growin’? What the fuck are you talking about? Just feel them! Aren‘t they big enough already?” The boy comments in astonishment of the massive balls in his hands… “Yeah! They fucking fill your whole palm, don’t they? Oh yea... they are FULL of fucking cum cause I am a brawny boy. And I haven’t released them in fucking WEEKS. Is that what you want? Your sweet little girlfriend out there you picture yourself getting choked and huh-“ Hornyness accelerates growth spurt while imagining the mentioned Sex. Starts of intense groaning while talking… „-and gagging hooh-“ More intense stretching… A BIG horny moan and growling out of the big man’s throat happens… “-cuffing up gallons of some THICK fucking trucker cum… OH yes… some BIG muscle bulged trucker just PUMPIN’ you full.” The spurt ends while his voice deepens a bit… “There you go… Fuck this stall is tiny!”. The massive man laughs as nothing but another obvious observation happens … „No, I have always been this tall. God, are you even standing? God, I have always bein’ this big. You always just got up to my packs when you got in here. What are you fucking talking about?“ The boy persists on his statement… „Ohh fuck. Who cares how tall I was earlier? A loud full rip of the big man’s shirt ends the discussion… “Yeah, my shirt’s tight. It’s fucking old already… I just rip it off-“ Some extra growth makes the shirt go loosen even quicker. The big man audibly suppresses the urge to growth with breather of sweat… „-huhhh. Fuck me… I am just getting pumped, alrighty? Yeahhh… Fuck, I love the sight of you reach me on your tiptoes-Ooooh-“ The big man loves the view and widens a bit more with a roar… “Just try to feel these fucking traps!” “Successfully distracted” the boy then comments amazed by how wide the big man is … “YEh, my shoulders are fucking BROAD!” The shoes The big man then suddenly gasps in pain… “Fuck these boots are TIGHT... God, I am so BIG… Go on, get down back on your knees, boy, and take those off from me!“ Kneeling down the boy then starts to work as commanded… “Oh fuck yeah, unlace these!” Slowly the boy tries to unlace the heavy boots and fails on the knots… „Oh fuck! Shit seems to be popping already. Ye, I am SO… big…” The boy asks about his shoe-size… „Size 16. Ye, I think these are just getting old… Big fucking broad feet on this field-hopped boots…” A stronger growth spurt happens accompanied by the man’s deepening voice. He rips his trousers and slowly tears open his shoes. He underlines the command with a breather of hurry… “HURRY UP! Fucking get those laces off before…“ Another surge with a vividly tried suppression by holding the big man’s breath occurs… „…BEFORE…“. In the same moment visible stretching of his feed pop through the garment. Groaning and a final looong ripping with a loud moan of delight sound through the room… „FUCK mee…” A silent moment of accusation starring follows as the boots fully ripped in two. Boy repeats his question regarding the unbelievable stated foot-size… “Yeh! They were old, alright? They were old boots. I am so big! And I told you: Size 18. Jesus Christ! Listen boy, look… what you made me do!” The boy once more accuses the massively buffed up man of growing… “No! My feet aren’t too big for me, you were just to fucking slow! That’s why that happened! God, can’t get my fucking sized 20 feet in those fucking shoes anymore, thanks to you!“ The boy resigns. He asks for another favour instead… „Yea, fine, put it to your chest!” Feeling the boy exploring the massive man’s feet are a new sight to his liking – so he growls in appreciation… “Feel all that sweat of that fucking beast sucking through your shirt, ey?“ Laughing and scoffing of the big man follows as the small one comments about the puddle of pre on the floor and watches the massive man sitting on the creaking toilet as he lifts his massive legs up to the small chest – completely covering it… „Oh hot! You’ve got a good sucking on that fucking big toe… ey? Growin’ in your mouth…” Further moaning in pleasure sound deeply through the room. Short noises of growth while pleasured exhalation happen. Hands wander onto the massive hairy legs. The beast groans out loudly as the hands audibly but vainly squeezes the muscle with all might… „Fuck yeah… Your hands up and down on my calf … they almost… fuck they already ARE as big as your thigh… even bigger!” The smaller man then surprises the big man, making him breath in in surprise, causing some more stretching and a moan in pleasure… „Rock hard muscles… growing… throbbing … BULGING…“ In horny exhalation the big beast swears words in pleasure. The boy finally interrupts. He heard multiple times what he wanted to hear and mocks that he surely is not lying the whole time… „Fuck… What?! No, I didn’t say ‘growing’. Fuck … God, this little stall is so… claustrophobic. It’s so tiny, isn’t it?” The huge man giggles and gasps in uncertainty for a moment… “Fuck…” The boy states literal hard facts making the giant hearably shaking his head… „Nah, I always was shoulder to shoulder with these metal fucking walls! … … Ooh god… Imma stand up here…“ A loud stomp shakes the ground as the feet force to the ground and pump up the beast right to the ceiling… „Fuck me … Godhhh …”. Exhaustedly breathing, the boy innocently asks again whether he always was THAT tall… „No, I was always scraping the fucking ceiling! I came in here, crouching, 10 feet tall … fucking … big… broad…” Unwantedly growing again, he groans while he verbally defends himself… “My clothes were hanging off of me when I got in here. I was… I got this … ah … condition and ah … oh fuck, I can’t even…”. The ridiculous situation makes him thunder a chuckle… „Look at your fucking face!” The huge man laughs surrendering as he noticeably realizes his ridiculous sounding excuse… “Nah, I don’t care anymore… Yeah, I am fucking GROWING.”. He gasps passionately as he surges up a little bit once again. His growth makes his voice-deepening mentionable within his coming words… „Fuck, I am getting MASSIVE as you fucking worship me! … Oh my goood … yeahhhh… I’ve… I have never gotten this BIG before… Oh shit…” Suddenly the even hairier trucker-belly growls loudly, slowly begins to wobble and swells out with gurgling noises… “Here is my fucking roid-gut swelling out there for you, boy! Ripping out that shirt…”. Stunned by the giant bear in front of him, the huge man’s hand engulfs the boy’s waist without resistance. His small cock throbs in his pants as the huge man sets him onto the giant's thick two foot long hard, pre oozing and throbbing shaft. By offset almost his height in the air, the boy holds onto the giant’s waist, discovering the growing valleys of rippling muscles and even thicker growing hair… “Ah yeah… Get these fingers in between those GROOVES!“ Pleasure and passion are mixing up audibly as the boy pets the giant’s abs-valley in trance of sheer wish fulfilment … „Ooh yeah! Feel it! Feel the hair getting so thick… Grab a fucking fistful of my pelt there, boy.” Maximally teased the boy moans and feels his pants wetting with pre… “Don’t you come yet! I never had some growing this BIG…” He moans as he swells up another inch in all directions… “Never had someone who is so fucking … dumb’n … fucking EAGER to see me-“ An even greater spurt passes through, which makes the giant gush out a sloshing load… “-HOH! … see me GROWING!“ The spurt continues in shrinking waves – for now… „Oh my god. All these little lot-sluts were running away from me before I am 8 feet tall but … but YOU … you are so fucking cock-hungry, you made me so-“ The spurt recedes with a thumping extra on top… „-hhhmm… SOO… FUCKING… BIG! … … Oooh, boy, I won’t be even able to fit into my own rig after this…“ Thinking of busting his own truck makes him noticeably enjoying the moment even more… ”Go on! You want it? You are on it, right?” Hearty laughing at the LUSTFULL stare of his little buddy he moans in mere pleasure… “Ohh… GOD, YEAH… You are fucking terrified, YEAH. But … you wanna feel that big fat fucking cock inside of you before it … hhh … before I get too big to fit, don’t ya? Go on, you want it. You-“ Mixing swearing, grunting and moaning triggers a sudden new wave of growing … “-oh wanna FEEL my FAT cock growing … and… STRETCHING! Come on, get me in there… hhh…” He growls hungry and does the work of ripping of the last of the little one’s clothes, accompanied by small spurt as the tip of his huge cock docks the small ass… “Ooh fuck yeah! You are so fucking tight, boy… I gonna lie down here…“ Too much for the beast Objects are rumbling away as the giant thuds onto the ground and leans against the wall. He gasps in sudden surprise… „What are you-” He abruptly moans LOUDLY in a new form of delight… “Oh GOD YEAH! You LIKE these big fucking nimps, ey? Go on, make’em fucking thumb-thick beast GROW in your mouth!“ Something builds up with every lick… „OHhh yeah… hhhh … I am so BIG … I’m so HARD… Look what you have done to me, boy! I’M … GROWING … SO … BIG!” A sudden pump in all directions fly by with an intense growl of the beast. He gasps and chuckles in horny surprise… “Oh-Oh my god! I don’t… I don’t think I can control it anymore… I don’t think I-“ He chuckles, getting lost in the moment … “I don’t think I control-” Another bigger thud… “Oh my god!” Pump… “Can you feel this boy? Can-“ PUMP… “-HHH! Can you feel your bod’ sliding against mine as I GROW underneath you …? Fuuuck! Lying on the floor … growing across… ugggrh!” The giant moans in utter pleasure as the unsteady growth spurt is gaining speed. Meanwhile more objects are pushed away. The stretching of the beast is rumbling and intensifying. Room-filling grunts of effort thunder through the half-filled room… “… knocking those stalls out the way… I can’t even control. I can’t take it anymore … Fuck me, the walls are squeezing on me here. I can barely get … oh god … barely get a full breath! I feel so… Oh god… I feel so cramped as I … as I GROW-“ Rest of the stalls are crumbling. The walls are getting damaged with the growth furtherly intensifies. The huge man’s voice thunders even more loudly and deeply… “… I AM GROWING INTO THAT BRUTE… OH MY GOD, I’VE NEVER GOTTEN THIS BIG… BUT I LOVE IT! FUCK ME. I CAN’T STOP GROWING AND STRETCHING YOU LIKE A FLASHLIGHT AROUND MY COCK! I AM NOT FUCKING YOU ANYMORE. I AM JACKING OFF WITH YOUR LITTLE BODY…” Swearing, moaning and gasping is mixing with rumbling. The giant is bursting up and up with loud moans in pleasure, growing even some more quicker… “GOD, I AM SOAKING IN SWEAT… GO AHEAD BOY, GET YOUR FACE UP IN THIS PIT!” The huge man moans from the small barely conscious man then just trying to touch him on his sides. Little surges with hungry moans of liking the view accompanies with the groaning, which mixes with enjoyment of a steady growing, making the suddenly very tight room fills audibly whilst the boy gasps in awe of the total view… “I COULD FUCKING CRUSH YOU WITH A FLEX, BOY, BUT I AM NOT GONNA… JUST … HOHHH… IT FEELS SOO GOOD. OOHH, YEAH, FUCKING LICK YOUR WAY, LITTLE BOY… OOHH FUCK ME… MY COCK GROWING SO BIG INSIDE OF YOU! FEEL IT! FEEL IT THROBBING AGAINST YOUR BACK. I AM GROWING INSIDE OF YOU SO MUCH. OH GOD, LIKE A HOOLIGAN.“. More stretching and rumbling happen. depending on the little one’s actions. „ITS AMAZING! BIGGER… BIGGER … AND BIGGER! FUCK, YES!“ Rumbling spurts are filling the room more and more and more whilst the giant grows even bigger, bigger and bigger… „FUCKING MONSTROUS BEAST… OH MY GOD, I CAN’T EVEN MOVE MY ARMS. THEY ARE PINNED AGAINST THE WALLS. MY LEGS ARE FUCKING CURLING UP HERE. OHHH, MY TRAPS SWALLOWING MY HEAD. BOY, YOU GOT ME GROWING OUT OF CONTROL HERE!“ Suddenly everything calms a bit as the giant's knees reach the ceiling and his feet the other side of the room… „FUCK! IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED? FUCKING GETTING… CRUSHED BY A GROWING MUSCLE BULL IN A FUCKING DIRTY TRUCKSTOP-” Building up pressure, clamped between walls, the beast moans in pressure and disbelieve. The rumbling multiplies. Suddenly another burst rumbles through the whole mountain of a man. Pump… pump… PUMP… “-OOOOH, YOU LITTLE FUCKING BITCH?!“ The air slowly connects with the outside as his head digs with increasing force through the ceiling. The enormous head is booming off and out of the buildings roof. A loud moaning fills the air as the giant’s head comes to fresh… „OH MY GOD, THERE GOES THE FUCKING ROOF! I CAN BREATHE AGAIN AT LEAST!“ Everything is rumbling as the giant stands up and chuckles monstrously. Now, also the walls are collapsing. Thundering in excitement he damages the ground and everything around as he steps and stabilizes… „AH SHIT! THERE IS YOUR GIRL! YOU… WANNA SAY ME ANYTHING TO HER…? OR MAYBE WE LET HER JOIN THE FUN?”
  25. FallenAway

    Never Enough Muscle by LORUS

    Once again, with the author's permission, I'm posting a story he wrote for the old forum and later deleted. I saved a copy on my hard drive and wanted to make this available to readers who might enjoy it as much as I do. This was written at a time when coin-operated public telephones were still widely available, so enjoy the trip back to the mid-00's, youngsters. Never Enough Muscle by LORUS Part 1 Dexter Rhodes was a bodybuilder. A very big one. He got this way mostly by acting as a guinea pig for his father’s experiments. At only nineteen years old he was 6’ 5” tall and weighed a solid 640lbs of eye-popping muscle. His upper arm circumference alone exceeded that of his waist by several inches. When he pumped and flexed his chest, he could make a table of his upper pecs. He could crush rocks to dust between his biceps and forearms when flexing. His legs were so big that he could no longer wear pants off the rack. Like all his clothes they had to be specially made. But he was so into the size of his body that he tried as often as possible to go around in the skimpiest of outfits. He was studying sports nutrition at college and money was tight since his father cut off his funding. Dex had to work to pay his tuition and fees, but he made enough money from stripping and doing cam-shows online. That was how he met his current boyfriend Sonny, over the internet during a cam-to-cam session. There was an instant mutual attraction. Sonny wasn’t a bodybuilder, but he still had enough muscle on his Eurasian physique to allow him to make a living as a fitness model. They’d been together for just under a year. They thought about a civil partnership to mark their one-year anniversary. They planned a honeymoon in the Greek islands, possibly Mykonos. Sonny was ripped all year around, thanks to great genetics and the perfect diet. But Dex was a size freak; he simply couldn’t get big enough, and he had to get bigger. He wanted to postpone the wedding and honeymoon until he was at least another couple of hundred pounds heavier. On that beach in Mykonos, he wanted jaws to drop and straight guys to get boners and question their sexuality just by looking at the muscle god. He was huge now, bigger than so many bodybuilders, professional or otherwise. But he needed more muscles on his incredible body before he felt that he truly deserved to be called a muscle god. This morning began like any other: angry, playful muscle worship followed by oral and anal sex. Sonny must’ve had reptilian blood in him, for his body was so supple and almost metamorphic, the way he could open his ass and take so much of his boyfriend’s enormous shlong, almost the entire length of the 12-inch shaft before screaming out in orgasmic ecstasy. And when Dexter made a cream pie out of that delicious ass, Sonny’s ass could take so much jizz before reaching its limit in terms of capacity. The young men were lying back in bed, their bodies laved in the sweat of their exertions, when there was a knock on the door. “That’s odd. It’s only eight-thirty. Who’d be calling at this hour?” Dex had no classes today. Sonny had a photo-shoot later, but they had hours to spare. The huge bodybuilder muscle-waddled out of bed and over to the apartment balcony. He liked to have a naked stretch and a flex in the morning, and because they lived in a predominantly gay part of town, many of the apartment complex’s residents were gay men. Dex liked to think he was providing a service. A lot of his neighbors were single and of different ages. Imagining the fapping that went on behind so many pairs of curtains, binoculars in one hand, dick in the other, made Dex smile from ear to ear. Haha, he also found it so amusing. There were occasions when he would step outside, if only to inhale the stench of freshly spewed cum wafting towards him from all directions. He loved that smell. But he loved the smell of his own muscles even more. He looked down into the courtyard and saw the mail carrier. Was he expecting a package? He couldn’t recall, but the guy looked cute, and he always loved to tease male callers (mail carriers, pizza delivery boys etc.) by answering the door in his birthday suit. Once he’d even answered the door with a full boner, his massive shlong dribbling precum at an inexhaustible rate. There was still semen dripping from his cock, now. Cool, he might convert this guy in a trice. The mail carrier was the same guy as before, a cute Hispanic dude who looked like he did some lifting himself. His uniform seemed a little tight for him, and there was an undeniable shape of meaty pecs impressed into that shirt, as well as nice, muscular legs filling out his sexy shorts. Dex made sure to pump his upper body to its max and bounce his pecs vigorously whilst addressing the mail guy. “Uh... registered letter, sir. You need to... er... sign for it,” said the mail guy, clearly captivated by the size of Dexter’s massive muscles. He blushed visibly and Dex bounced his pecs and flared his lats so much that he had to turn sideways to step out into the hall. His semi-erect cock wiped a sizeable precum stain across mail guy’s shorts. Both men instantly noticed this. “Shit, I got muscle-cum-juice on your sexy shorts, hot stuff. Maybe you can come in and have breakfast with me and my hot male model boyfriend and I can wash that stain out for you,” said Dex, boastfully. It sounded like something out of a bad porn movie. He flexed a single biceps pose, and his granite-peak cannonball firmed up, so huge and round. Still laved in sweat, his shiny bodybuilder’s skin reflected the light from an overhead light-fitting beautifully. Mail guy’s eyes widened with astonishment. Not only was Dex the biggest muscleman he’d ever seen, but he was also drop-dead gorgeous in the facial department. “Er...um...it’s fine, sir. I ruh-really got to guh-get going. The stain’s nuh-no problem.” The mail guy passed over the letter. Dex folded his arms, squeezing his muscle-tits together so that the cleavage created the perfect letter rack. Mail guy was visibly sweating, now, as he gingerly placed the letter between the two sweaty mounds of muscle. Dex then reluctantly signed for it. There was only one person from whom a registered letter would be sent to Dex’s address. Dexter Senior. “Hey, stop flirting with the mail man and come back to bed, big fella,” Sonny called from the bedroom. “Letter from the old man. I almost don’t want to open it. I know what he’s gonna say,” said Dex, his bottom lip trembling a little, a strange sight to behold on one so huge and strong. But it looked like his future depended on what his father had to say. “Want me to read it out to you?” asked Sonny, being supportive as always. “Nah, I need to do this. But thanks, Babe.” Dex nervously ripped open the envelope. In his father’s neat script, the words said simply: “In your dreams, Junior.” “Dammit!” Dex angrily ripped up the letter and then stomped around the apartment in search of something heavy and metallic to bend. Fortunately, he kept a toolbox full of crowbars for occasions such as this. He took out two together and bent them into pretzels. Then he picked up the toolbox and crushed it into a ball the size of an egg cup. He made it seem effortless. Sonny hated seeing his Adonis losing the head like this, but he had every right to be angry. Besides, his body got so super-vascular whenever he angrily bent something. His veins were on the verge of popping out of his skin at this moment. Sonny grew hard again and really wanted to kiss every one of the massive bodybuilder’s sexy veins. “What did it say, honey?” Sonny wanted to hold his boyfriend in that “It’s going to be all right” kind of way. But he knew better than to approach him while he was still at boiling point. When Dex had sufficiently calmed: “It’s a response to what I asked him at our last family reunion... Grandma’s funeral. Last time we talked.” “That was just before we met, yes?” Dex nodded. “You know a bit of the story. I asked him if there was a chance that we could reconcile, bury the hatchet, and I could get reinstated into the program.” Dex’s breathing was slowing as he became less enraged. That was a good thing. Sonny loved him very much, and although Dex would never physically harm him (unless it was a genuine accident), Sonny still knew when to give him enough space. He mentally resolved to visit a hardware store later to stock up on more crowbars. They were running dangerously low. “And it took him a whole year to get back to you? That’s pretty shit of him.” Dex nodded again. He bounced his pecs and they looked and felt so massive to him. They helped to distract him from his current emotional state. “So, what did the letter say?” Sonny now felt it was safe enough to approach Dexter. He put out a hand and Dexter took it in his own beefy mitt. Sonny then began to soothingly rub his 26” forearm. They were monstrously huge. Dex didn’t think so, however. “It was a no. What a fucker. It’s not like I set out to ruin him or anything. He’s made his fortune.” Dex let out a slow, defeatist sigh. He hated being in a bad mood. It wasn’t fair to Sonny. “I’d like to help. But I know very little about what happened with you and your father. Didn’t his research company cure that terrible virus that affected male muscle mass?” Dex nodded dolefully. He decided to tell Sonny the rest of the story. The virus had been nipped in the bud four years previously, before it became a pandemic. It was one of those ancient microbes that lay dormant in millennia-old ice floes which, due to global warming, were released back into the atmosphere by the receding ice caps. The virus mutated and started causing muscle depletion in infected males. Fortunately, there were less than one thousand cases worldwide, and Prof. Dexter Rhodes received the Nobel Prize as the architect of its eradication. Win-win scenario, right? Wrong. Dex had just started bodybuilding around the time the virus broke out. He made great advances in his training in the first year – a veritable teen prodigy – thanks primarily to a guy at the gym who liked Dex enough to take him under his wing and teach him all the techniques and tricks necessary to get really huge. Then Guy Roche went on a trip overseas – something to do with the reading of a will – and started showing signs of the virus shortly after returning. The bodybuilder lost thirty percent of his body weight in muscle shrinkage in just four months. Cases of this started cropping up in newspapers and television news reports. As with other viruses and flu outbreaks, the public panicked. Pharmaceutical companies and the world’s leading scientific minds in medical research rushed to find a cure as more and more men began to wither away. The virus was passed through the air, but only 3% of people exposed developed symptoms. Dex was tested and found to be a carrier, as he’d spent a lot of time breathing the same sweaty air in the gym as Guy Roche. Dexter Senior took no chances. He would use his teenage son to test various serums and anti-viral treatments he was developing. Less than two hundred men succumbed to the virus. Guy Roche, they say, was saved by his muscle mass. He’d been the only bodybuilder in the world to develop symptoms, but the virus liked to attack exterior muscle tissues before launching a final assault on internal organs. Heart failure was the outcome for someone exposed to the virus, but in Roche’s case, he was down to 137 lbs. by the time he began the treatments. He was weak, yes, but alive. In just eight months he’d lost more than half his body weight in muscle mass, mass it had taken him years to build. One month after being declared well once again, he was found hanging from a beam in his basement by a concerned neighbor with a spare key. Dex took his death badly, but his father had already adapted his treatment into an all-out muscle enhancer. In healthy men... especially bodybuilders, the anti-viral serum could help build astonishing amounts of muscle. Since Dex had acted as a guinea pig to his brilliant father’s efforts, it seemed logical to continue trials on him. One year after Guy Roche’s suicide, Dexter Rhodes had ballooned to over 300 lbs. of massive muscle. He was bigger and more muscular than the current Mr. Olympia at the time, and he’d won every bodybuilding contest he entered until he was banned from competing when the secret to his growth became public (as these things are sometimes wont to do). “So, your dad obviously ceased giving you treatments? But you continued to gain muscle, right?” Sonny couldn’t recall when this scandal hit the media. To be honest, he rarely read newspapers or watched television, even to this day. But what are scandals these days, anyway? Flashes in the pan? One day it’s a corrupt scientist growing his own son into a muscle freak. Next day that’s forgotten in favor of Lady Gaga’s latest shocking behavior on stage. “You know pretty much the rest of it. I became a whore for muscle-growth. I just wanted to get bigger and bigger. My dad put this down to hormonal instability. He stopped the treatments, and one night I lost it. I drove his Mercedes out to the nearest lake and then threw it right into the middle of the water. I’d picked up cars a couple of times before, but never to throw one two hundred feet. Pulled a couple of ligaments for my trouble, but I healed up soon after.” Sonny grew hard upon hearing of this massive feat of strength. “Why’d you never tell me all of this before?” Dex shrugged: “I don’t like to remember the shit times in my life, to be perfectly honest. Everything got better after I met you, darling.” He smiled lovingly. “And yet you still gained more muscle. Just from conventional bodybuilding techniques?” Sonny’s cock was now in precum overload. “I stole an entire year’s worth of serum from my father’s personal stock. The modified one, not the one that was made available worldwide. I tried to make it look like a break-in, but my father, already fearing I’d attempt something like this, had me tailed. Since he had to brush all this under the table, there was little he could do, legally, to get me to give back the treatments. And so, he cut me out of the will, my funding... everything. The treatments I stole turned me into the man you know and love today.” Although emphasis wasn’t required, Dex’s upper body burst into a massive full-lat spread, every muscle tensed and bulging beautifully. He was incredible to look at. Sonny wanted to jump him there and then. He thought about making some excuse to the photographer so that he could get out of the afternoon shoot. Just to spend an entire day with his bodybuilding boyfriend. “And now your supply is gone, eh? But you made some sweet gains in the year since we met. And that was after you’d run out of the treatments, right?” Sonny was finding it hard to set Dex’s story into a viable timeframe, he was that horny. “Yes, I have,” said Dex, forcing his upper body into a mind-melting most muscular. His muscles seemed to fill Sonny’s entire visual periphery. For a few seconds he could not breathe for fear he would be consumed and crushed by a massively mutating muscle amoeba. Then Dex added by way of a closing remark to the subject: “But they’re nothing compared to the gains I made when I was injecting. I have to get more... somehow.” Part 2 Sonny seemed lost to his own thoughts, as the hot lovers enjoyed yet another breakfast together. Coffee was a luxury they both allowed themselves only occasionally. Sonny cupped his mug and savored the aroma. Despite the great sex they'd shared earlier, he wasn't much in the mood for eating. In contrast Dexter's appetite was huge, and he was only too happy to polish off any leftovers. "I guess this is all my fault, everything that happened between my father and me," said Dex after some moments of silence. Smiling reassuringly, Sonny extended a hand across the breakfast table where it found Dex's to rest on. "You have a passion for growing muscle. Fate decided to smile fondly on you for a time. You saw an opportunity and took it. You tried to make amends to your father, but he chose not to meet you halfway. He's a jerk if you don't mind me saying." Sonny sipped on his coffee. Dex managed a half-smile. "The more it plays on my mind, the more I grow to accept that what I did was wrong. And now I'm the family black sheep because of a mistake I made." Sonny was quick to jump to his boyfriend's defense against his bitter self-judgment. "Your father started this. You finished it the only way you could, by satisfying an insatiable hunger inside you. A hunger for growth. It was your father's invention. He should have known how it would affect you ultimately." "I guess so," said Dex after some time. "Come to the shoot with me today. Alfonse would love to photograph you. Besides, we can always use the extra money. It'll be fun." Dexter considered it. "Not a lot in my wardrobe for a photo shoot. I really should sort out some new attire. I've just about outgrown everything." Somewhat cheered up, the bodybuilder could not mask his muscle pride. "Doesn't matter. It's a nice day outside. It's an underwear shoot anyway. Wear something tight and slutty," said Sonny as he set about clearing the table. "Everything I own is tight and slutty," Dex reminded his number one man. "Keep talking like that, hon, and I doubt either of us will get out of here today." *** The massive bodybuilder spent quite a while trying to find something to wear. Recently he'd returned from the gym far too many times in a state of extreme muscle lust, his pumps held for an impossibly long time. During these moments Dex would perform hulkouts as much for his own gratification as Sonny's. It had taken a severe toll on his wardrobe. He decided that after the events of the morning, some all-out muscle showcasing was the order of the day. He opted for a trashy mesh string top, which was literally falling apart. He managed to keep it on its last legs by holding it in place with a sturdy set of red suspenders, which he securely anchored to the skimpiest pair of trashed denim cut-offs no huge bodybuilder had any business being seen in. The cut-offs looked more like briefs than shorts, made to seem even more skimpy, given the fact that two enormous thighs blasted out of them, the vast swell of each muscle belly rippling thickly and with ridiculously deep striations in between. Each thigh tapered down to a solid knee which in turn was under siege from a surfeit of unfaltering, huge calf muscle. “You’ll be arrested if you go out like that,” said Sonny when it was time to give Dex the onceover. He was right, the outfit was ridiculously skimpy. Dex only had to sneeze, and that mesh string top would fly apart into so many useless strands. Sonny couldn’t conceal his boner and was so turned-on by how his boyfriend made items of clothing appear like they were about to disintegrate from the sheer pressure of so much huge muscle flexing and bulging beneath them. Sonny went to Dex’s closet and found a trashed denim jacket to go with the shorts. “Waste of time getting that out. I’ve gained about eighty pounds of muscle since I last wore that. My arms will never get through those sleeves,” Dex protested. His mood had brightened. He was well-known around the city, but there were always the tourists to shock with his enormousness. He really wanted to rape the entire city with his muscularity, figuratively speaking. “Not a problem,” said Sonny, who quickly got busy with a pair of scissors. He turned the jacket into a sleeveless vest-style, and because it was a little tight across Dex’s shoulder’s and back, it was impossible to fasten across his dynamic chest. After some further checking-out: “You look like an explosion in a Levi’s factory. But huge, and incredibly hot, darling.” “Not huge enough,” Dex growled, the coiled meat-monster inside the pouch of his jockstrap, slowly yawning awake and thickening as it stirred, pushing against four metal buttons with the potential to turn them into four bullets if he wasn’t careful. He blasted out pose after pose with utmost precision, his movements graceful, never awkward, but oh so masculine in their delivery. A wet stain had already formed in the front of Sonny’s cargo shorts. Some seams began to part down the sides of the jacket/vest as Dex flared his lats to delta-wing proportions. His muscle aesthetics were unmatchable, utterly flawless, and awesome to take in at a glance. Dex had grown too large for most cars, although neither of them owned a car. The walk to the tube station from the apartment was a little under two kilometers, plenty of distance in which to strut so much muscle as well as force it down the throats of as many jealous guys in passing as possible. Sonny was a good sport and always played along. It was so difficult doing anything with him – even the most mundane activities – without coming out in a boner. Sonny had had boyfriends prior to Dex, but only Dex could make him super horny like no guy ever had before. Near the tube station: "That guy over there... taking pictures with that big telephoto-lens camera. He looks familiar," Dex exclaimed, bouncing his pecs vigorously for the pleasure of two twinks who'd spotted in him their ultimate walking wet dream in passing. Sonny followed the giant's line of sight to the fountain in the square about fifty yards from where they stood. "So what? You've been snapped and filmed by just about every modern gadget between here and the apartment. What's so special about him?" "I think that's the same guy that... nah... can't be... can it?" "The same guy that did what?" Sonny was growing impatient. His stomach was rumbling, and it was now that he regretted not having solids for breakfast. A bagel would go down nicely just about now. He began to scan for a vendor. "The mail carrier from earlier, the one that brought the registered letter from my father. I'm nearly sure that's him," Dex explained. As if those words had carried power, the photographer by the fountain realized he'd been rumbled. "Dexter, darling, I wouldn't worry. You probably converted him this morning to Dexter's Temple of Muscle Infatuation. He's acting beyond his control, like so many men who fall under the spell of your massive muscles. Blast him with a double biceps. He'll cream himself, shoot off to find a bathroom, and we won't be late for our train." Sonny checked his watch. They would make the two-thirty train if they hurried. Alfonse was not known for his patience. "Hmmm, maybe," Dex mused, although something about this wasn't settling well with him. This day had quickly turned into something unexpected. And no amount of massive muscle fleshing your body out to near god-like status could ever prepare you for the unexpected. They made it to their platform, and Sonny got his bagel en route. There were two bodybuilders waiting for the same train. They were mid-twenties, one Caucasian, the other black. Both had been showing off and owning the platform, until a huge shadow appeared and swallowed up their own lesser ones like some omnipresent and sentient oil slick. They both, suddenly, felt quite inadequate, and they didn't like it one bit. One of them said: "Dude, you're a monster. That ain't natural at all. What shit you on?" Both were dressed in gym clothes, and they looked like they'd both had good workouts. Their bodies were pumped and rock hard, but neither of them looked heavier than 220 lbs. tops. Dexter, as if to demonstrate total muscle dominance, worked some tension out of his neck by tilting his head from side to side. The sound of shifting bones was drowned out, but only by a vagrant playing some sort of wind instrument further along the underground platform. Then Dexter drew back his shoulders, forced out his pecs, and flared his lats to further seam-splitting proportions. Mouths fell agape, not just those of the bodybuilders, but pretty much everyone within viewing distance. Further down the platform the vagrant stopped playing his pipe in favor of playing with something else. Dex moved to within pec-touching distance of the lesser bodybuilders. He was a head taller than one guy, and two thirds of a head taller than the other. He loved being the biggest... but he still had to grow way huger than his current size. He could never have enough muscle. "I'm not on any...shit...dude!!" The massive muscle teen gave the taller of the two a face full of mega-bicep. It peaked at a mind-blowing 36 inches. Some of the color drained out of both their faces when they observed the bulging muscle firm up to cannonball proportions. Probably hard as iron, too. Nearby, a middle-aged, suited gentleman, complete with stereotypical bowler hat, suddenly tugged uncomfortably at his pristinely starched shirt collar before scampering for the nearest public convenience, dropping his umbrella as he went and awkwardly covering up his "embarrassment" with his briefcase. It was time for Sonny to intervene lest Dexter Rhodes take exception to such a remark. "Fifty thousand and his secret's all yours. Not a penny less," Sonny said, stonily. "Fuck that shit. We don't have that kinda money, bitch," said the other bodybuilder. "'Sides, who'd want to get that huge? Dude, you a freak!" The first bodybuilder cracked knuckles with the other before "high-fiving" him. Dexter really hated all that bromance/hetero buddy-buddy shit. He now touched pecs with "Knuckles", and for the lesser bodybuilder it must've felt like he'd been hit by a muscle tsunami. "I think you both need to get another train. In fact, I must insist that you get another train," Dexter said calmly enough. His mind was still preoccupied with the familiar-looking photographer by the fountain from earlier. "Dude, we cool, okay? I didn't mean nuthin' by it, is all. We cool, man." The bodybuilders made a hasty retreat considering the moderately-impressive bulk they were carrying. Sonny's full attention was now back on his boyfriend. He was only three inches shorter than Dex, but he still often got a pain in his neck from staring up at him. He liked to call it his "Romantic Strain Injury". They both liked silly, soppy stuff like that. "They didn't upset you, did they?" "I'm still in my clothes, aren't I? Couple of jerks," Dex admitted. "You seem preoccupied. It's not the camera guy again, is it?" "First whiskey craving in over four years. Dammit why now?" Dex suddenly craved metal to bend. There was plenty of it around, but he wasn't a vandal. "Whiskey? What in the---" "Don't worry about it. I haven't touched a drop since I was fifteen. Bodybuilding helped me kick that particular habit." Trying not to look visibly upset, Sonny voiced his concerns: "Is there anything else you'd like to tell your boyfriend of almost one year? I thought we agreed ages ago not to keep secrets from one another. So, you were a teen alcoholic, and a thief. What other skeletons are rattling around inside that huge body of yours?" With voices raised, tempers grew frayed. More people began to leave the platform. "Take that back," Dex growled. His body began to expand, fueled by rising anger. Veins popped out all over his muscled form. More seams parted in the jacket, and parts of his mesh string top began to disintegrate due to the expanding flesh pushing against the flimsy fibers. Unbeknownst to them both, a youth nearby had his iPhone's camera trained on them. YouTube Gold was the order of the day, it seemed. No matter, Dex had found himself in YouTube videos more than a few times already. You just had to type in the right tag words and phrases and eventually he popped up (in more ways than one). "Why, what you gonna do, bend me into a crowbar-pretzel?" Sonny stood his ground, although he was at a loss for what to do. They'd bickered in the past before. What couple doesn't? But those minor tiffs were nothing like this. This was... getting bad. Anger caused Dex's blood to boil. His muscles became engorged, and his skimpy garb destabilized further. He decided to ditch the jacket, for it had become uncomfortably tight across his back and shoulders. Now all that barely concealed his super-huge, muscled torso were a few ounces of string and some visibly straining suspenders. The way they stretched over the curved swell of his pecs – the immense prominence of each muscle-tit creating several inches of space between his impregnable 8-pack and the elasticized straps – was a minor miracle in that the front and back clasps were still able to cling to their denim moorings. "The shit!!!" It was the youth with the iPhone, creaming himself but unable to do much about it, except to keep filming. Later he would break it off with his girlfriend of two years, Susan, in favor of a new lifestyle in need of exploring. She'd be devastated and blog about it on Facebook to her 1,567 girlfriends before deciding to become a nun. Happened all the time, that. "Enjoy your photo shoot. Fuck this crap!" The super-gorgeous muscle behemoth stormed off towards the stairwell back to ground level. Concerned and cautious commuters pushed close to the walls to give him a wide berth. A curious police officer, no more than a rookie, called it in and requested instructions on what to do. His superior advised him to "keep an eye on the situation", nothing more. Dexter hadn't done anything wrong. No one had complained about him (too scared to, most likely). He'd caused no damage and the altercation down on the platform had been a minor one, all things considered. He was scantily clad, but it was a warm day, and there were plenty of shirtless hard bodies around. The guy was a giant, but so far, he wasn't breaking any nudity laws. A little bit of denim around his junk and ass just about kept him from getting cuffed (not that any cuffs would hold him). When the train came Sonny made sure he was on it. He was upset by how the day was going, when it had started out with amazing sex and muscle worship. But their rent wasn't cheap, and Alfonse was a pain to work with, but at least he paid well. Time to focus on work for a while. *** A huge bodybuilder made his way out of the underground and across town. His movement was half-strut, half-waddle, made that way by the sheer immensity of his hugely bulbous thighs and the way they were intricately arranged... powerful muscles fighting against each other for space. As he went his torso continued to hemorrhage bits of shirt string. He made for the fountain, where earlier he'd seen the mail guy snapping him through a professional-looking camera. It had to be him, he thought. He liked to think that he never forgot a face. The craving for alcohol no longer niggled at him. He was meant to put it down in a diary, but for the life of him couldn't remember where that diary was now. "I crave size... more size... more massively huge size... more than anything else," he voiced aloud, something of a vow he was determined to honor. He stood looking at the fountain for a long moment. He closed his eyes. Dreamed of getting bigger, each muscle bloating upwards and outwards with so much more mass and power, skin stretched to wafer thin extremity across the ever-burgeoning bellies. He would make it happen. It had to happen. His mind filtered out all sounds of city life... all except one. The sound of a modest-sized coin hitting water with a discernible "plop" sound. It instantly brought him back to reality. A thin well-dressed gentleman – his hair snow-white and cropped tightly to a somewhat egg-shaped skull – stood next to him, the top of his head just about level with Dex's shoulder. Fairly slumped in posture and middling in stature, the man was respectable looking, but looked tired and somewhat older than his years. "You can have my wish," he said softly to the giant, without taking his eyes off the baroque cherubic scene carved into the fountain. "Huh, what did you say?" In truth Dexter had heard him perfectly, but he still had to come fully down from his angry time. "Have you never tossed a coin into a fountain and made a wish, Mister Rhodes?" The gentleman now moved to the lip of the capacious fountain bowl to take some weight off his feet. He took out a banana from the inside pocket of his light-grey suit and began to peel it with care and precision. He never once made eye contact with the giant muscleman before him. If he felt intimidated by the handsome super-hulk, then he certainly didn’t show it. "Uh, maybe... as a kid... I dunno. Wait a sec... how do you know my name?" The gentleman smiled a wan smile and paused with the peeled banana held before him in a hand that ever so slightly trembled. "I make it my business to learn all I can about the exceptional people with whom I share a troubled planet." He went to take first bite from the fruit. But he paused once again, only to add: "Something tells me you haven't been having the best of days." Well, he got that right. But Dex didn't like the idea of a complete stranger knowing his name. What else did the old codger know about him? Upon second glance the banana-man didn't look all that old. Dex reckoned he could be anywhere between forty-five and seventy. By now several dozen people, mostly tourists and young adult males, had formed a ring around the huge bodybuilder. They gave Dex plenty of room, but nearly every one of them were recording his image in some fashion. Dex was used to it. His brain just filtered them out. It was human nature, driven to utter fascination by all things "different". "Are you spying on me? How much did you pay that paparazzo dude to take my photo and pose as a mail man?" Dex's muscles began to swell further as his anger surfaced once again. Miraculously his suspenders still held. "I don't employ photo-journalists as a rule, Dexter. May I call you Dexter?" "Fuck you, gramps," Dex barked before turning around to leave. The same police officer from earlier stood near the burgeoning crowd. He watched the scene intently. The people boundary began to disperse to give the muscle giant room to leave. "Please don't walk away from me, Dexter. I only wish to help. Why did you approach this fountain if you weren't made curious by the photographer earlier?" This grabbed Dex's attention and held it in a grip from which not even he could escape. He did a 180-degree turn and walked back part of the way towards the fountain. His chest heaved hugely, suspender straps straining against the rise of so much chest muscle. The string top was almost completely eradicated. He looked massive... beautiful, a sandy-haired Jesse Metcalfe crossed with Zac Efron. Such a facial mix set on a huge muscle-body was a one in a billion occurrence, several billion, even. But it still wasn't enough for him. Not by a mile. "So, he does work for you. You'd better fess up to what you're about, Mister, or you'll be eating a fire hydrant instead of that banana." Dex's body was flushed with anger which fueled an overall increase in muscle mass as blood and adrenaline swelled his muscle fibers to near-bursting point. People nearby gasped at the sight of such a big man swelling up with further muscle mass. "I mean you no harm, Dexter. Of that you can be assured. As to how I know you... well... for now let's just say that I have your best interests at heart. As you grow bigger... and I'm certain you will... the world will come to accept you less and less. Look around you at the gathering you've attracted. And a lone police constable, too. Unless you keep that temper of yours under control, this could easily turn into something best avoided." The man stood up again, but only to toss the uneaten banana into the nearest bin. "Turns out I'm allergic to potassium," he revealed by way of a comic aside to everyone but Dexter. Total pantomime stuff. Dex quickly grew tired of this. "I'm listening," Dex said simply. "Alas, I'm done talking... for now. Let me give you my card. I really must get to another appointment post haste." The man began to make his exit, across the street to a waiting limousine. The copper would run a check on the plates. Routine stuff. Everything would check out. Banana man was a ghost in the system, it seemed. "Wait a sec, I need to know what this is all about!" Dex's voice was a booming one. Pigeons nearby stopped picking at scraps in the street and took to the wing en masse. Elsewhere a kid's balloon popped, and a pregnant woman's waters broke. The woman's husband began to panic and called for assistance. Fortunately, the police officer, no longer interested in a giant nearly naked bodybuilder, was on hand to render assistance. A strange day, indeed. Dexter stared at Banana man's business card for far longer than he needed to. There was very little on it, just the initials "W L", followed by a phone number. He decided to go home, take a shower, then head to the gym. Nothing like a workout to preoccupy a troubled mind. He started walking... strutting muscle. People still stared in droves. They always stared. Part 3 It wasn’t the first time that his fob key had been rejected at a gym turnstile. He knew the drill. Stare hard enough at the desk clerk until question marks pop out of your head and steam shoots out of both ears. “I’m sorry, Dex. Rufus was pretty explicit about the instructions he left,” said Jeff the hunky clerk, hoping to high hell that the biggest bodybuilder ever to squeeze sideways through the doors to this particular muscle-building convenience wouldn’t take his frustrations out on the messenger. Jeff could bench 650lbs for 12 reps in a controlled situation, but it was a different matter altogether when 650lbs of hyper-muscle charged at you in a flying rage with intent to rearrange every bone in your body. “This can’t happen today. Not with the kind of day I’m having. Buzz me in, Jeff,” Dex insisted. Breathing faster than usual, his mighty chest heaved up and down, in and out, throwing extra inches his way. His suspenders would not hold for much longer. There was no one else in the gym lobby at this time. Maybe that was for the best, should those suspenders fly off suddenly in an erratic pattern with the potential to knock out eyeballs. “You owe Rufus a grand for the damage you did to the equipment last week. You’re too strong for the place now. He said not to let you in until he sees some green. So please, no trouble, yeah? I need this job, Dex.” Jeff cautiously placed a finger next to a panic button discreetly positioned where Dex couldn’t see it. He hoped he wouldn’t have to push it. “And I need a workout, Jeff. I’ll ask you one more time... buzz me the fuck in.” Dex’s voice had become a growl. His anger was about to boil again. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep his rage under control. Lifting weights helped a lot. But now he was denied even that privilege. “Sorry, Dex. I can’t go against the boss’s wishes. I can call him on the phone if you like.” Jeff was a very strong bodybuilder, but he was a dwarf compared to Dexter Rhodes. Anxiety began to take hold like a bitch. “Huh... forget it. He hasn’t even got the balls to be here when I call in. Fuckin’ wuss. I’ll see him in my own time. Thanks for nothing, Jeff!” With nothing more to say on the matter, Dex vacated the building, much to Jeff’s relief. Of course, Jeff would have to let his boss know that Dex had been in. What he didn’t know was that although Dex left the gym, he didn’t go very far. Dex waited almost an hour for Rufus’ SUV to pull into the parking lot. Rufus had been a champion bodybuilder in his day. Now in his sixties, he was still in great shape for his age. But it was no secret that he was selling all kinds of performance enhancers under the counter to help his ailing business stay afloat. Dex waited a few more minutes until he was sure that Rufus was in his office. Then he returned to the parking lot, specifically to the private corner of the lot reserved for staff vehicles. It was around the side of the building. Rufus always parked in the same spot, so that he could keep an eye on his beloved motor from the small window to his office. Dex wasn’t sure how much an SUV weighed, but it felt near weightless to him as he hefted it off the tarmac and pressed it effortlessly above his head until his arms locked straight. With a mighty grunt he tossed it with two hands as easily as a footballer would a soccer ball during a throw-in. Fortunately, Rufus was doing a little cocaine in the small bathroom off his office proper when the vehicle struck home, otherwise he’d have been killed instantly. The fright of the huge off-roader taking out an entire wall to his office and pretty much destroying everything within, however, caused him to inhale too much coke far too quickly. It triggered a seizure there and then. By the time the paramedics and police arrived, the ex-bodybuilding champ was already in a coma. By 5pm that evening an APB calling for Dexter Rhodes’ arrest meant that every cop in the city would be out looking for him. He couldn’t go home. He didn’t have a phone on him. Sonny would be worried as hell, despite their bad exchange of words earlier. “I should turn myself in,” he mouthed aloud from a safe vantage point atop an apartment block on the outskirts of the city. These days he could propel himself Hulk-style over inhuman distances. Scaling a twenty-story building took just a few leaps and bounds, using windowsills and extractor-fan casings as hand grips and footholds. On the top floor of this block of apartments, his friend and fellow stripper Giancarlo lived with his boyfriend Rafael. Both were currently out of town. Dexter knew this, and so gaining access to the apartment via the fire escape was no problem to a superhuman muscle-freak. He suddenly had a place in which to lay low. There was no phone in the apartment, but there was a payphone in the corridor directly outside. “I need a coin for the phone. Could you help me out?” Dexter standing in an apartment block corridor meant that anyone coming or going simply couldn’t pass unless he pressed himself against a wall. He spoke to a drag queen, half-in, half-out of his outfit for the evening. Was he going to work, or coming from? Did it really matter? “For you, handsome, you can have all the cookies you want... but the cream you gotta pay for,” said the queen. Now what in fuck did that mean? “Have you got a coin or not? I need to make an urgent phone call.” Dex ground his teeth and tried to keep calm. He didn’t have time to be toyed with. “Only if I can kiss all those enormous, beautiful muscles of yours, hombre.” The queen winked at Dex in that exaggerated way that queens sometimes do. He wasn’t very good at it. One wink and off came his stick-on eyelashes. “How about I bend you over so hard, you’ll be sucking your own dick for a week,” was Dex’s exasperated but somewhat colorful threat. The queen relented, took some coins out of her purse, and threw them at the bodybuilder. “I can already do that, bitch. Now go call yo’ mamma and tell her you missed out on the best blowjob you’ll never have.” The queen slinked off back to wherever it was she liked to slink to. Dex wasted no further time calling Sonny: “Hey... it’s m---” “Where the hell are you? The police were here, asking me questions. I didn’t know what to tell them. Fuck it Dex, you’re all over the news.” Sonny sounded frantic with worry. “I... um... lost control. Rufus barred me from the gym. The rage I felt, Sonny. I couldn’t help myself. Did the news reports say anything about... well... you know?” Dex felt that kind of dread we all do just before hearing something we’d be better off not knowing. His throat went dry as kindling. “The news didn’t say much. Just that the alleged target of your attack, gym owner Rufus Boyd, is in intensive care. He’s in a coma, Dex. Because of you. If he dies... well, I don’t have to spell it out for you.” An awkward silence passed between them for a few long seconds. “Where are you? Speak to me for fuck sake,” Sonny’s voice was cracked with emotion. He broke down, which was enough to set Dex off as well. His bottom lip quivered whilst his tear ducts began to swell. “If I tell you, you’ll have to tell the cops, Sonny. If you don’t know, then you have nothing more to tell them, right? I need to lay low while I figure out what to do next.” “How about turning yourself in? Where will you go? You’re wanted by the police as the main suspect in an attempted homicide. Where can a man that looks like you expect to hide anyway? Please, Dex... do the right thing and don’t prolong this and make things worse for yourself. I... I... love you... so much.” Another short silence. Then: “I love you too. I might see if my father is willing to help.” Dex wiped tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand, but one managed to evade him. It dripped off his masculine, chiseled chin and onto his enormous pec shelf, where it then proceeded to forge a path downward over the beautiful, swollen curvature of his left pectoral muscle. The muscle-tit immediately contracted, as though it had been touched by an electrical current. As if hewn from the flesh by a master sculptor’s chisel, deep striations were suddenly carved across both pecs, one of which rapidly sucked up the escaping teardrop. “Are you crazy? If he didn’t want to know you before... he’s hardly going to be interested in coming to your aid after what happened.” “I have to try. If anything, I’m going to need bail, and a good lawyer. I might get him to do the right thing.” “And if he doesn’t. Are you going to start tossing more cars?” “I love you, Sonny. More than life itself... more than bodybuilding,” said Dex, and hung up. Only part of that admission was true. At this moment in time, the greatly troubled behemoth didn’t know which part was. *** He worried that the drag queen from earlier might learn of his crime and report his whereabouts to the police. He had to get to his father, but home was on the other side of the country. “I’ll give muscle shows in exchange for places to hole up,” he decided, as he freshened up in Giancarlo and Rafael’s ridiculously small bathroom. Dex could hardly turn full circle in the cramped confines of the tiny room. Still, he just about managed to splash warm water from the sink all over his muscles and junk. Despite all that happened, he still got hard looking at himself in any mirror. The mirror over the sink was large enough to cater to an average-sized man’s needs, but because of Dex’s height and awesome upper-body width, his pecs completely filled the mirror. He bounced them vigorously, squeezing them with sheer will alone, until they broke into roughly similar-sized sections separated by striations deep enough to hide change in... a lot of change. “This isn’t how it should be playing out for me. Suddenly everything’s gone to shit. How can I grow my amazing muscle-bod if everything’s gone so wrong?” Dex grew super-hard when he tried to perform a double biceps pose, but there simply wasn’t enough room in the bathroom. He went into the bedroom where the couple had a decent-sized full-length mirror on the inside of a closet door. Completely naked, Dex began to blast out pose after pose, each movement designed to show him at his most muscular and beautiful. He was huge. A bodybuilder his size got horny far too much. His libido was hyper-charged, and even though he’d had sex only that morning, his balls felt like they had a months-worth of jism in them. Fully naked, and completely erect, Dex’s cock was the size of - if not longer and thicker than - an average man’s forearm. It slammed against the bricks of his ab wall with a most satisfying thud. The mushroom head was already shiny from precum that began to leak from it like resin from the wound of a tree. He touched the viscous bead with a finger, which he then brought to his lips to taste. The flavor of his raw manliness further excited him. He began to growl like a threatening wild animal. He brought fists to his sides and fanned out his lats into a vast spread, puffing up his chest and pecs simultaneously, and he marveled at how his upper body seemed to triple in size. Precum now began pouring down the shaft of his cock, and he wished that Sonny was here to collect it in his mouth, to hold it there before bringing his lips up to his lover’s so that the precum he’d saved could cement their kiss together with even greater degrees of man-lust. “Gotta get bigger. BIGGER!!!!!!!!! IT MUST HAPPEN!!!!!” ********************************** Clearly this story was meant to continue, but no further chapters were added. It's disappointing, but let's frame it as an opportunity to imagine where things would go from here. I'm sure Dex would find a way to continue his growth, and it would be magnificent. I'm torn between wanting him to get his anger under control vs. wanting to see him fuck shit up with his gigantic body and incredible strength. He's only nineteen, and life is a journey, right? It would be understandable if the power went to his head and he made a few more "mistakes" before getting himself under control with the help of his faithful lover, Sonny. ~ Fallen Away
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