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  1. TheWeremuscleForest

    Under The Covers Lies Revelations (Part 2)

    ‘You mean you know?’ ‘You are a werewolf aren’t you Wade? OH GAWD I HOPE YOU ARE, I admit it excites me.’ Brad shows the tent in his pants as Wade laughs. He shakes his head left and right and Brad frowns. ‘No I am not a wolf man. I am similar to that though. I should have sensed your appetite before and now I know you will be tough to fend off. Like I said, I will show you where I live.’ ‘I can’t wait that long Wade, I want to see you change. Can’t you give me a preview?’ ‘Oh hell no, not here. I can’t control it here, it would ransack this whole floor probably.’ Brad’s infatuation leads him to decide to cancel his trip back home so he can fly to be with Wade. He tells Gabe and his wife that he needs to make an additional trip to visit an old friend, which isn’t exactly wrong actually. Brad and Wade arrive in Oregon by the next morning. The two men are now kissing often and talking freely with each other as they take a taxi to the outskirts of Portland. Brad laughs as he realizes that Wade got a house in the country in case something were to happen. Wade holds Brad’s hand as he directs him into his home. The spacious layout makes Brad wonder exactly what Wade is. The furniture is sparse and everything looks nailed down. He turns to Wade and puts his free hand on his chin and rubs it. ‘Soo…..what are you sexy creature? Do you have a lair for your transformation?’ ‘Actually I do genius. It won’t be long before you will know either. We need to get some sleep first because I can’t change without energy.’ Wade shows Brad a guest room, but he doesn’t seem to want to go there. ‘I’m not sleeping in there Wade. I made special plans to come here, I want to be with you.’ ‘I don’t trust you man. You will try to make me change before I am ready.’ ‘So it does depend on physical attraction. Hehe thanks for telling me.’ Wade rolls his eyes and points his finger at Brad. ‘No funny stuff Brad. I know you want the beast to be unleashed, but it isn’t safe.’ ‘Okay (crosses fingers behind his back).’ The two men crawl into the big bed in Wade’s bedroom as they take their shirts off. Wade kisses Brad goodnight and goes to sleep. Brad lays there waiting to make a move as he pulls his pants off and strokes his cock. He leans over to rub it against Wade’s back. The sleeping stud moans a little as Brad begins to kiss and lick his lower back. He slowly lowers Wade’s undies to reveal a huge bubble butt which surprises Brad as he makes noises. He leans down to start running his tongue along each cheek before parting them to flick his tongue on Wade’s hole. The sleeping stud growls lowly as Brad strokes his cock a little more. His need to see Wade’s cock overwhelms him as he pulls the man’s drawers completely off and sees a thick meaty rod waiting to be serviced as it begins to pool pre on the bed. Wade begins to sweat profusely as the beads start to move down his body. Brad’s anticipation for Wade’s transformation becomes overwhelming as he grabs the sleeping man's big rod and swallows it down tasting the thick pre flowing from the slit. Wade begins to convulse as he sleeps and squeezes the sides of the mattress. The eager sucker rubs his friend’s stomach as he feels it starting to react. He looks over as the muscles begin to quiver before they start to stretch. Wade agonizes as his belly expands wider. Brad moans feeling each individual abdominal disappear underneath the thick ball of hairy muscle rising from within. It eventually hides Wade’s head from Brad’s view as he continues to worship the huge cock. The admirer moves his hands down towards Wade’s growing quads as they begin filling out and pushing themselves further apart. They thicken into giant hulking trunks of solid mass. The dark black hair on Wade’s body begins to thicken quickly covering up his entire outer layer of skin. The change intensifies as Wade gives in to his change letting his arms and pecs explode in size before his own voice disappears under the tension. Brad continues working over the giant cock and moans louder as he feels it growing from within his lips. The thick muscles start stretching even wider forcing Brad to pull it out of his mouth so he can run his tongue along the sides. He reaches down to feel Wade’s balls expanding in his grasp feeling them stretch as the sack tightens. He can feel them filling up with massive amounts of cum. It is at this point that Brad realizes that Wade is getting closer to the edge. Brad manages to take a peek up at Wade’s face as he can hear him making growling noises as his teeth change and his hands and feet begin to change their appearance. Each finger and toe begins sprouting huge claws which frightens Brad only slightly. It is at this point that Brad risks everything to devour the coming river now flowing into Wade’s giant cock. The human side of him is starting to disappear as the bear from within begins to take over as his face loses its human qualities as a snout forms out of nowhere and his human ears fall off. New bear ears form off the sides of his head as he now resembles a black bear. The bear growls loudly as Brad sucks down the huge volcano of cum now erupting from its cock. He gulps down as much as possible as the white goo flows down his chest. The bear begins to get agitated as it moves away from him before turning around as if it is going to attack. Brad rushes to the doorway of the bedroom before turning to yell out, ‘WADE ITS ME BRAD! PLEASE YOU HAVE TO KNOW IT IS ME!’ The animal stops as its black eyes stare him down as it gets quiet and cocks its head sideways. It closes its mouth before turning to jump out one of the bedroom windows. Brad rushes over to see it jump down on the ground and go rushing through the forest behind the house. He quickly pulls his shorts back on to go out the front door of the house and into the forest to find the animal. He can’t hear anything now which he finds quite peculiar and after several minutes gives up the search. He sits down close to a tree to catch his breath and realizes that he is feeling a bit lightheaded. Without knowing it, a man has shown up out of nowhere and is standing above him. Before he can make any kind of movement, the man grabs him and holds him down on the ground. He covers Brad’s mouth and begins to say something. ‘Shh, no need to be making a ruckus. I know you are looking for Wade.’ (mumbling under the man’s hands) ‘Stop doing that, if you will calm down, I will let you talk.’ Brad nods as he stares up at the man. The man lets go of him as Brad sits up. ‘You were at the reunion weren’t you? You were one of the guys Wade was with.’ ‘That is correct man. You did a very bad thing you know? Him being loose like this is dangerous. Our community will not tolerate outsiders fucking things up.’ ‘I couldn’t help it he makes me crazy with lust for some reason.’ The man smells the cum on Brad’s chest as his own hazel eyes grow larger. ‘You are trying to make yourself change aren’t you little man? It isn’t that simple fortunately. You have to be compatible with your mate.’ ‘When will I know if I am? I am feeling really dizzy right now.’ The man laughs at him. ‘Well it is a slow process, but you will start to feel something change inside you in a relatively short timeframe.’ The man looks up in the sky and starts to make strange noises. ‘You better move along man, I can’t control this much longer. I have been holding back my change since I saw you here. I….(stretch)….oh shit…(shirt rip)….too fucking…(muscles growing)….late (pants split)’ Brad jumps up and rushes over behind a huge bush nearby as he watches the man commence into his transformation. The change he is witnessing begins to turn him on somehow as he feels a sense of ecstasy rushing inside him. The man only groans slightly as he grows taller feeling his bones crack and his boots explode under the pressure of his new paws. Brad moans as the man’s clothes rip and shred completely off as an insane amount of muscle begins appearing all over his body. The man practically moans as his body hair changes over to fur as he sprouts a huge brown tail to accompany his shiny brown body. Remarkably his face remains the same until the end when his muzzle finally sprouts causing him to anguish in pain and he voice changes to howls. Brad’s excitement causes him to accidentally rustle the bush too much which attracts the giant beast immediately. Before he can try to get away, the werewolf snatches him up into its grasp and starts to growl at him loudly. ‘Ohh dear gawd please mister wolf, I’m not ready to die yet. You have such amazing fur and muscles though. Can I at least touch you for a second?’ Brad reaches around to feel the beast’s huge hairy back and moans deeply feeling its incredible thickness and power. To his surprise, the hazel-eyed beast smiles at him and reaches down to breathe down on his face and starts running its tongue up and down his chest. The feeling makes Brad nearly go limp in the werewolf’s arms. It starts to run its claws along his legs and arms teasing him like its going to rip into him. Brad surprisingly moans as the beast smells him again before laying him down on the ground. Brad looks up into its eyes and wonders if the man is fully aware of what is going on. ‘You have some kind of control inside there don’t you?’ The werewolf almost smirks and even nods at him before running its tongue along his neck. Brad nearly loses his composure as he fears what the beast is up to. Without warning, the werewolf digs its teeth slowly into Brad’s flesh penetrating and drawing blood. It places a giant paw on his mouth as it holds its position as the blood slowly trickles down his chest. Then it digs its other claw into his left leg as Brad begins to lose consciousness. It picks Brad up after finally conquering him and puts his lifeless body on its back as it gets on all fours. It begins to move at a steady pace through the forest making sure that he doesn’t fall off. It appears that Brad’s life may turn out to be extraordinary after all. End of Part 2
  2. So sorry for the long wait between "VIALS" I had a very busy almost two weeks... Enjoy all my pups, cubs, and muscle brothers! {VIAL 3} I woke up the next day for school and got out another vial from the side of my night stand drawer. I got my things together and thought to myself, maybe I should try out this vial a bit earlier in the day instead of waiting until lunch or after school. I went down the stairs after my backpack was filled with the day’s books for my classes, where I headed to the kitchen. My biological father had already left for work again, so thank god I didn't have to run into him. On days where he had off of work, I would be ridiculed for being a pain in his side and then he’d make me do all the household chores and told me if I didn't he would use all the social security money he received from the state in order to buy himself more booze and other luxuries that didn't benefit my young child needs for nourishment and growth. I went to the kitchen and made my way to the fridge to see if I had anything I could mix the powder into this time. Luckily there was some orange juice. I found an empty water bottle on the counter, which I popped the top off and poured the 3rd vial of powder into it and stuffed the empty bottle into my pocket, followed by me filling up the rest of the bottle with orange juice. I shook the contents up, making sure the entire bottle was mixed before I put the remaining orange juice back into the fridge and I headed out the door. As I closed the door, Andrew startled me by already standing on the porch. “Hi Seth!” his voice cracked a bit as he spoke. “I thought I would meet you here instead of having to just run into you on our usual walk to school.” I was a bit giddy with excitement. “Thanks, bud. Well I already have the drink prepared for you.” We started to make our way to school as we walked down the sidewalk. “I think I want you to drink it before class starts Seth. What do you say about that?” Seth beamed up at me with his happy go lucky smile. “Well sure that sounds like a good idea. However do you think it’s wise? Each one has caused something in me that was pretty noticeable. Who knows what each vial will do.” He had a point. I remembered the empty vial I had stuffed in my pants pocket and pulled it out to see if at least any of the words or letters were readable, since the last vial was pretty much illegible. Sure enough the words on this bottle were entirely intact. I smiled, very relieved. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” I handed over the empty vial and the bottle of orange juice and powder to my smaller friend. He read it and then looked at me a bit nervous. “Seth, you do realize that once I drink this, it is going to change a huge dynamic in our relationship.” I stopped walking for a minute, placing a hand on his shoulder. He stopped and looked up at me as well. “I know it will, Andrew. But this is something that I have actually always wanted in a person that I know.” He unscrewed the top of the bottle giving me a huge grin. “Well, I guess its bottoms up!” He put the bottle to his lips and chugged it down as if it was liquid courage. Well, if you guys really want to know what it was he just drank, it pretty much was courage in a bottle. Andrew made sure not to leave a single drop of it left We continued to walk our way to school and I swear, the kid stood taller, prouder then I have ever seen anyone stand before. As we got to the gates, Andrew turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder, something I don’t remember him ever doing before. “Meet me behind the gym. Let’s eat our lunch quick and maybe try to squeeze in a workout, Seth.” I gulped. “Um sure…” “Awesome! I know football season is almost practically over right now and how you have always wanted to try out for the sport. So maybe if the two of us work out together, we can motivate you to join the team next year.” “A-Alright Andrew,” my heart almost jumped out of my chest from his words. Andrew actually is trying to push me like an adult role-model should do. He released my shoulder, giving me a wink, before running up the steps of the school. Classes went by faster than normal today as I couldn't wait for the bell to ring for lunch. When it finally did I practically ran to our usual lunch meeting spot. Andrew was standing against the wall with his backpack strap around one shoulder. He looked really damn cool. “Hey Seth! I already ate lunch during my last period. Hurry up and eat, I want to show you a few things to help you in your workouts.” I didn't know what to say so I just nodded and pulled out my lunch, quickly tearing into my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Andrew laughed a bit, “don’t eat so fast, bud! It’s not healthy for you to do that.” So I slowed down a bit and finished my lunch normally. I’m already starting to see a huge change in our dynamic. Before this morning it was me who was the one to make decisions and give advice. Andrew grabbed the door at the back of the gym and pulled it open, holding it for me to enter first. I walked inside with him following right behind me, and then he started to quicken his pace as he walked over to a weight bench loaded with 20 lbs on each side. Something told me that he was in here a bit before the lunch period started. Andrew walked to the back of the weights and grabbed a pair of lifting gloves from the floor and tossed them to me. “Put those on and have a seat.” I did as I was told and slipped the gloves onto each hand and adjusted the strap before I sat down on the bench and then laid under the bar. He bent down, put his hands on my upper arms, and guided my hands gently to the bar. I gripped the bar tightly. “Now before you lift, you want to make sure each of your arms and hands are straight. Also make sure they are at a good distance apart. If you lift incorrectly you can injure yourself.” As he guided me with his voice, he also guided me with his hands, as the bar slowly lifted and went down to my chest. “Remember to Inhale when you lower the bar to your chest, and exhale when you push the bar up.” I did as he told me and I began to learn how to weightlift for the first time in my life. The rush of testosterone and adrenaline filled me, as this was new and exciting! We did this until the end of our lunch, when the bell rang. “I’ll see you after school, Seth! I’m going to do my homework and then I will meet up with you at your house later tonight.” “Sounds awesome, Andrew!” We both parted ways again as we went to our own classes. After school I went right home, where I found myself greeted with the loud noise of auto-racing on the television. My Father was home. “Hi…” I walked past the living room heading for the stairs. Hoping he wouldn’t respond to me. “Home from school, faggot?” He blurted out, belching from the beer and chips he consumed. I cringed at that word. “Yeah, I’m going to go do my homework.” “Nah you’re not. Go grab me another beer and then I want you to clean the kitchen and the garage. They are a fucking mess.” “OK, sir.” I walked over to the fridge and pulled a beer out bringing it over to him. I placed the beer on the table and began to walk away when he stuck his foot out and tripped me. As I fell, I knocked over his bowl of chips, spilling them all over the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you dumb fuck?!” He chuckled. “Clean this shit up too now!” “Sorry, sir!” I stooped down and began to pick the chips up off the floor when the doorbell rang. “Go answer that, if people are selling candy, use your allowance and buy me some!” I got up and made my way to the front door. I opened it to be greeted by Andrew. “How’s it going, Seth!” He smiled up at me. “It’s not a good time, Andrew.” I tried to close the door of fear of what my father might do, but Andrew pushed his way inside. “Hi Mr. Davis!” He said walking into the house. My father looked at Andrew with disgust before turning at me with a snarl, “Tell your girlfriend to go home, faggot!” “I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Davis,” I never heard anyone go up against my father before. “I’m here to help Seth get his work done. And then my family and I are going on a little trip this weekend, and I’m here to invite Seth along.” My father was a bit shocked from this little challenge set forth by my small friend “Whatever, as long as you two little shits are out of my hair for the weekend its fine.” “I have a name, sir.” Andrew spoke up again. “It’s Andrew. And your son has one as well.” My father started to laugh again. “Whatever! Seth, get your little fag friend out of here before I put a boot in his ass myself!” I grabbed Andrew by the arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Andrew. And then we can go on this family campout.” As we were now out of earshot from my father, Andrew grinned up at me. “Sure thing. Remember to pack a bottle for the morning. And one last thing. The family “Trip,” it’s going to be just some Dad and Son bonding time. He gave me his big smile and a soft pat on the back before I watched him walk back across the lawn and into his house. NEXT UP - VIAL 4 VIAL 1 – HYPER-TEST – Initiate Puberty / Hyper-Testosterone Booster VIAL 2 – 400 INTELIGENT QUOTIENT – 400 IQ / Hyper-Intelligence VIAL 3 – HYPER-CONFIDENCE VIAL 4 - ??? VIAL 5 - ??? VIAL 6 - ??? VIAL 7 - ???
  3. I am hoping there are other fans of the IFNB out there… It is, in my opinion, one of the best, consistent and intensely erotic muscle fiction series out there! I have been VERY in to the ongoing muscle fiction of the IFNB for a few years. It is a unique work, because it is not told like a traditional story but is told via "reports" from the world of the IFNB (International Federation of Naked Bodybuilding). Every post is coverage of a contest, backstage or personal profile of huge, hung, alpha-aggressive athletes. Over the course of the short posts, story lines and themes emerge and it becomes VERY hot. The creator(s?) clearly know the real world of competitive bodybuilding yet also have broad-ranging imaginations. Everything from vanilla muscle worship to hardcore gang rape and everything in between! Old-young, coach-jock, hetero and homo, extreme sex and basic showing off . . . it all seems to happen in this world. The cool part is that they acknowledge in clever ways how this has been going on in real life and why none of us are familiar. They are tethered to real life (even if the muscle growth stuff is sometimes pure science fiction), so it makes it hotter. I also like how they RESPOND TO OUR COMMENTS and the storyline follows the fans' interests. The hot discussions and sub-fantasies that emerge are sometimes as hot as the posts themselves. I really get into chatting IFNB with other fans, so thought I'd post here and see who else loves these stories?
  4. I am reposting this old favorite, didn't focus too much on the furry side of it, though it was mentioned a couple times. This was based off a game I had used before my phone's anti-malware triggered off it, and the phone deciding to no longer play any sound or noise. Starts with growth with effort ending with growing without effort. I might get around to doing a sequal to it. I was in complete delight. After all the saving, I finally owned my first smart phone. The touch screen was incredible and the ease of use blew my mind. Looking it over carefully I noticed it had a great application on it already, perfect for a growing bull. Muscle Builder was the name of this application, I didn't worry about it cause it was free and already on the phone - on the last flip page. Launching the application turned my delight into a little dread, it wasn't to track lifting progress or anything. It was a simple game, it had a character that was rather skinny looking and not much to look at. It had only a dozen exercises that it could perform, which wasn't bad it did show how the exercise looked when it was being done. While I toyed around with it the top of the game flashed an advertisement that I got a short chuckle from, "The more you play, the more realistic it becomes." It did have credits so when he was getting a little low on the calory count needed to do an exercise, I could get an energy drink to give him the calories needed. It even had some oddjobs so he can earn more credits. "This is pretty fun." I commented. "If only it was that easy to build muscle" The game beeped and a message appeared stating that the character gained a level and to keep up the good work. A few more moments and the energy bar moved slightly on it's own. I thought of something and tried to do an exercise without having enough energy. This gave a different message, this one saying that it takes about four hours to restore all of his energy, to a maximum of two thousand calories. Looking at the time, I put the phone into its standby mode and went to the gym. Like normal, I was in my stretch sleeveless shirt with a loose pair of shorts. I did like to show off, but only the upper half. My mind kept wandering to the game and chuckled as I was now doing a couple of the exercises I had done in the game. First was bench press and a pair of exercises focused on the pectorals, inclined dumbbell press and declined barbell press. Then I did incline rows, lat pull downs and alternating cable rows to put some stress on the back. I felt great and really pumped up. During a pause in my routine, I went back to the new phone. It was to simply respond to a few text messages. I did open the Muscle Builder game once more and looked it over, doing one of the oddjobs that it listed and had the character do some inclined sit ups. Once again, the character gained a level and kept with a positive message of keeping at it. It also said that a couple more levels were needed to unlock a feature, but didn't say what it was. One thing I did notice was that the exercises I had him do earlier were still unavailable to do again. I put the phone back in it's protective case and returned to my workout. A few hours had passed and I was still and sore from hitting the weights harder than I normally do, I was on fire during my lifts. Even a couple regulars had seen this sudden shift in my attitude and was curious to the change. I had told them about the new phone, but not telling them about the game. They figured that I was just excited and it gave me a little boost to my endurance today. After the gym, I did some poking around a few stores. Needed to restock the fridge and buy a few replacement articles of clothing. I also played wit hthe phone again, answering messages and toying with that game once more. The character looked a little buffer as I looked at it. For a human, it wasn't half bad looking. It did have a certain charm to it. I did see that some of the exercises were available again. Some recharged faster than others. It didn't get a level this time from a few exercise choices, but that didn't stop me from wanting to see how far this game will go. I was growing interested in what was to be unlocked. It took a few days of playing but it did get the few levels needed to unlock this special feature and it was something. I could take my own photograph and have it being used as the character model, instead of the human. I just needed to have enough credits so that I can switch the model. Luck had it I saved up those credits, letting him rest instead of tanking up on the drinks. A quick photo and a couple button presses later and poof, I was looking at my digital self. Only thing was that it still had on same red shorts the human model had and a similar build, keeping his human weight. No big deal, it was just a game and the character was growing more muscular the more I played it. I kept playing the game and doing my normal daily routine I just couldn't help but play that game for a few minutes every couple of hours. It was pretty exciting to see this digital version of myself getting bigger. It was nearly matching my size and matching my weight, when another level up screen popped up. I was playing often and gaining levels every other day, but this one seemed a little different. It was another feature it had unlocked, instead of using levels for the body parts, it was going to calculate a measurement for the digital body to make the game feel more realistic. It did warn that it would take time for seeing a difference in the measurement. "Like with growing real muscle, it all takes time. Cannot expect my digital self to be content with level twenty arms and a level twenty-four chest, guess it'll be more fun to see how 'big' my digital self is in real world body measurements. It already weighs as much as me." I chuckled and agreed to open the new feature, just like the photo, it cost some of the credits earned from doing the oddjobs, which I keep saving up. When the game finished adjusting the settings to use measurements, I was shocked to see that they nearly mirrored mine. I laughed again now thinking of how much the digital looked like me, wondering if it was possible to see what the future had in store for me if I kept up my workouts. All I could do was keeping playing and see how far the game would go before it said it had reached the end. The weeks slowly ticked by, I kept working harder and harder, feeling stronger everytime I hit the gym. I could feel the intensity of my workouts and it was playing off as I was gaining size and blowing past some of my old weight platues. I was still playing the game, but this time I only did the exercises that matched the ones I was doing in the gym. It was wild to see that model was keeping pace with me, the measurements kept reading the same in the game as when I measured myself. A few days later I had reached a new level unlocking a free feature, this one allowed the game to autoplay while the phone was in standby. All I had to do was set what exercises I wanted it do to while the phone was in standby, in the order I wanted them to be done as long as I had the character had the energy to do them. For now, I chose to unlock the feature, but not use it right away. I enjoyed being able to choose the exercises while I was active. It didn't take much more before the final feature was unlocked. Now this one excited me to no end. The reduction of the energy needed to do the exercises and a massive increase to the available energy, to mirror a real life body builder or power lifter. To make the feature even better, it reduced the recovery time so the exercise could be done more often and can be done three times before the exercise had to recover. "The more you play, the more realistic it becomes." The ad flashed across the screen again, this time adding "The more you exercise, the bigger you will get." I laughed again and just focused on playing the game. When I first started playing it didn't take more than four exercises to go through all the calories; now I can do them all twice and some a third time before being low on energy. Like before, it took four hours to get back all the energy, however I played it often so the energy was rarely fully restored. It only fully recovered when I slept. "The more you exercise, the bigger you will get." Flashed across the screen's ad space. "The bigger you get, the bigger you will want to get." It was true. The more I played it and watched my digital self grow, the more I wanted to see him grow. At the same time I started being asked what my secret was. I was dumbstruck when they asked me that. As a bull, I was natural to grow big and powerful, my massive frame allowed me to grow massive and quickly. I snorted when I told them to leave me be while I was lifting, they kept wanting to know what I was on and where they could get some. I gave an annoyed grunt as I weighed myself in the gym. That scale had to be off, since it was an old doctor scale that can be adjusted easily. There was no way in less than a week I could gain ten pounds. I thought for a moment and looked at the game, nope the weight didn't match the scale. The game said my digital self was heavier. I paused for a moment then laughed at myself, thinking somehow the game was causing me to grow. I shook the silly thought away and headed back home. I breathed a sigh of relieve once I got home and stretched myself on the bed, the gym really took it out of me today. I looked at the phone and decided it was time to play with this autoplay feature while I took my nap. I set it up so it would rotate the big mass exercises, bench press, squat, and deadlift for three full uses. Then it would do the same for bicep, tricep and forearm exercises. Finally finishing off with the incline rows with the rest of the energy. I was sure to up by then, but I would let it run its course without me interrupting it. After setting it up and letting it go to work, I drifted off to sleep. I woke up right about the time the program should had finished the last exercise on the rotation. My upper body was sore from the days workout, but it felt so much more intense. I reached over and got back onto the phone to disable the autoplay and went about my day. Or least I tried to, my shirts were ripping at the seams when I tried to put them on. Even my sleeveless shirts tore with ease. I saw shocked, they weren't this way before my nap. I looked at the game and checked it's stats then compared them to my own. I nearly tripped over myself when I stepped off the scale. I was the same weight and body parts had the same measurements as in the game. I wanted to test it out, this time doing only the leg exercises. I spent some credits to restore all the energy I spent while I was napping. I turned on the auto play to only work on my legs. I waited a few minutes, patiently watching the game as it did an exercise and paused for two minutes before doing the next. I checked the scale and watched it slowly keep up with the one in the game. I kept having to give a little slack to the tape measure around my thigh as it too seem to grow with the game. "How is this possible?" I asked aloud. "How is it possible for a game to be doing this? It's not possible." As if it heard me, a new ad displayed itself. "The game is a reflection of life. The more you play the game, the more it reflects your life." Then it displayed a level up message. One that puzzled me, it was for another feature. The ability to share all progress with a friend, it was free and was already accepted without me doing anything. The screen flashed one more advertisement before going back to the game screen, "It's always nice to share with your friends." Before I knew what it was implying, I felt my body shift. I had forgotten about the program autoplay feature and my body was steadily growing. Not just my legs, but now my entire body. It was slow, but steady. I watched the scale as it slowly showed my weight increasing a quarter pound every couple of minutes. I thumbed around for a moment and managed to turn off the autoplay feature. After about a hour of fearing the worse, I stood back onto the scale. The weight in the game had stopped increasing as well as the real me. So it seems that the game had me going from the start. I tried to remove the game, but it wouldn't. I tried to change the model back to the human and that option was gone. I was puzzled, even the option to reset was gone. I looked at my reflection in the full size mirror. "You know what? Being this three hundred fifty pound bull isn't all that bad." I commented to myself as I did some flexing and posing. Then I looked back at the phone. "Plus I can always make myself bigger whenever I want to. Just have to make sure I only use the autoplay very carefully, don't want to grow too big too fast. Have to make it seem - screw with natural, I need to be as big as possible as quickly as possible." With that I went back to the autoplay feature and begin to select all the exercises on a rotation. I could no longer resist the urges. I just had to see how far this game could go, how big it could make me grow. I launched the program and let the excitement begin. I rushed as best as I could as a lumbering bull could to get into the biggest stretch clothes I could find. Only a pair of red posing trucks had enough stretch to fit - barely. The time slowly seemed to tick by, slowly adding pound after pound of rock hard muscle. I couldn't help but feel my growing arousal slowly tightening the fabric around my package. At the moment I thought for sure it would snap, the game paused itself. I had hit another level and opened a new feature, they just came coming. This new feature had me confused for a moment - it would allow me to remove the energy required to do an exercise, but it would take longer to go from one exercise to the next. It was also only to be used during autoplay. It cost me all the credits I had stored up and disabled the power to further obtain credits, claiming it was no longer needed. I licked my lips at the thought, autoplay the game and not having to worry anymore about lifting. It was like it read my mind, no longer did I have to make time to hit the gym and build up my body. I could do it while I just sat around the house. Sure I could still go to the gym and make it look like I was building it naturally, but I knew they wouldn't accept that. I was tingling all over when I accepted this new feature and began to run the autoplay feature. No longer was there any need to rotate the parts it was now working every part in an endless cycle. I felt a charge run throughout my body it was like my muscles were being pumped and worked. Instead of the game working each part separately, it was doing them all at once. Each time two pounds of rock hard muscles swelled and pulsed. Thick veins running around my chest, arms and legs. I moan in delight, feeling a growing tightness in my groin. Not only were my muscles growing, but so my entire package. The game beeped and it seemed to start running a new feature. A new ad displayed stating that bigger muscles needed bigger equipment to keep the muscles growing. Then the game resumed the autoplay, I was getting lost in the pleasure of my body growing bigger and stronger. After an hour there was a loud snap, my red posing thong finally had enough. I couldn't help but playfully pet my massive bullhood, feeling it stretch slowly. My ball rest on my massive quads as they kept fighting for space. They ached for a release, so turned on by my growth I gave into my urge. I ended up coating a good portion of my torso with my milky white juices. I rub it into my pelt, like posing oil, only with a strong musky scent. I was losing track of the time, only constantly flexing posing and rubbing out more and more cum. There was like no end to what my body could do. I had to see how big and heavy I've gotten, the game display read a nearly jaw-dropping weight of five hundred pounds and yet it kept climbing. A few more minutes and I had gained another twenty-five pounds. This was getting to be a bit much for me. I reached for the phone to turn off the autoplay and then it happened - it shattered in my hands. I had gotten so strong that even a light touch was too powerful. For a moment everything seemed to have stopped, I breathed a sigh of relieve. I was already bigger than I really should had let myself grow, but I was still mobile to make the best of it. Then I felt that tingling charge feeling again, it was stronger than last time. I grunted as I felt a tug at my groin as my balls and cock suddenly surged in size, nearly doubling in size. I nearly tripped over them as they stretched down past my knees and kept me from falling forward. My muscles quickly ballooned up as the sudden increase of testosterone flooded my body. My body was already massive and growing bigger by the second. My balls kept me from moving forward, till I managed to crawl over them before they got too massive, but my enlarged soft cock caused me to trip and landed directly ontop of it. I felt it pulse and grow along with my muscles, making me stand back up as it stiffened and freeing itself. It stopped short of being as long as I was tall and thick as my waist at the flared head. I moaned as it constantly was leaking a steady stream of cum. My balls were producing so much that it couldn't store anymore and had to keep it flowing. Hours roared by as I kept swelling all over, muscles constantly swelling and pulsing. I flexed the best I could while I had the power to move. My thick cock and balls kept their size, but I was slowly filling the room with cum. More than once, I got so excited when my body seemed to throb, my cock shot a blast that managed to knock a hole in a wall so the room would never completely fill with cum. For that I was thankful, but I couldn't stop the flow it only slowed down shortly after a powerful blast. Even though I was still in a constant state of bliss, I managed to drift off to sleep. Only dream I had were getting bigger and growing uncontrollably. I got so massive in the dream, that my balls were resting on the planet as the planet seem to shrink. A ring of cum swirled around me as my cock kept pumping it out. Eventually even the Sun was tiny compared to me and yet I wanted more. I woke up with a snort. It was about all I could do. While I slept I kept growing. I wasn't any taller but my muscles seemed to have finally stopped growing and my mighty cock and balls settled down. Even though my feet were still on the ground I couldn't take a step, my thick cock prevented my legs from moving forward; my balls kept them from going back. I took this time to think about my new position and how I ended up in it. I didn't regret it and if I had to, I would do it all over again. I gave a light chuckle, there was that one feature that I didn't use. Or did I? For those that read this story, I do hope you enjoy being in the same overgrown position that I am in. It is, afterall, nice to share.
  5. Newmassaddict

    First story - Growth, Part 1

    I have been reading stories on this site (and the old one) for many years. I'm in awe of the talented writers that post stories here. Recently, I have started writing my own stories. This is something I have been working on and have received some positive feedback. I hope you enjoy it. Growth 1 It’s been happening more and more lately. I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror or window reflection and my heart skips a beat. This used to happen only on occasion; during a particularly gruelling workout. I would see my reflection in the gym mirror and have to do a double take. These days, its happening outside the gym, when I’m not even pumped. It all started two months ago when I finally broke the 300lb barrier. I remember just staring at the scale for well over a minute. 301.5lbs it read. I finally tore myself away from the display and lumbered towards the bathroom. Instantly, my cock was rock hard. I could feel its 9” girth pressing against my gym shorts. I stopped in front of the bathroom mirror and literally ripped my tank top off. I knew anyone else in the locker room could've heard the tearing sound but I didn’t care. I contorted myself into a most muscular crab pose. My traps rose to touch my earlobes. Thick veins erupted on the surface of my tanned skin. Sweat immediately started to glisten on my hulking shoulders. Deep striations and more veins coverd their surface. My inhumanly huge biceps harden like granite as they reached their 25” maximum size. I grunted and flexed even harder. My bloated triceps exploded in perfect ripped horseshoes as my forearms tripled in size. At 20” of thick, vein covered monstrosities, they were larger than most men’s biceps. I could feel my chest filling with blood as it rose to meet my chin. Striations three inches deep appeared. Each overdeveloped fibre twitched and moved with raw power. I was growling now and my arms started to shake as I held the pose. Through the small gaps between my arms and chest I could see my ripped abs expanding in a solid powerful column. Even though I could not see it; I flared my impossibly wide back to the point where the skin felt as if it might split open. I managed to take a step back as the seams of my gym shorts started to tear. A network of veins so thick and engorged covered every visible inch. At 37” each quad fought with the other for room. Sweat ran down my quads to my calves. Even though my massive quads prevented my legs from touching at the knees there was barely an inch separating my calves. At last measure they we over 22” of pure beef. Even unflexed they were the most overdeveloped calves I had even witnessed. I had now been holding this body torturing pose for close to a minute. Sweat was pooling at my feet, my whole body was trembling and I was growling like a rabid animal. My eyes darted around my reflection as 301.5lbs ran though my head. Summoning an incomprehensible inner power I somehow flexed even harder. As I watched my already hulking frame expand even bigger I could feel huge amounts of hot cum running down my legs. I released to pose as I hit orgasm and stumbled back and slammed into the wall behind me bracing myself on the counter to stop from collapsing on the floor. I had never cum without touching myself before.
  6. LeSeigneur

    The Labours of Hugh

    The Labours of Hugh By Chip Masterson For the Seigneur de M. “My God, what is that beast?” My master and I stood in awe as we watched a lone man carry an entire butt of beer on his back and gently drop it in place. You could hear it slosh - a thousand pounds of beer carried as lightly as a side of beef! But what looked like a man – or the absolute ideal of what a man could be – had the face of boy no older than I. His downy face looked untouched by a razor, yet the width of his shoulders rivaled every champion assembled here, with helmet-sized shoulders and chest muscles as thick as a man’s torso. His bare arms dwarfed my skinny legs, yet his waist, carved into grooves like a cathedral column, was flatter than mine. His legs were covered with several boar-hides stitched together, and with calves pushing them up like a giant’s fists. As he turned to leave, I could see he was so thick from the front edge of his chest to the highest peaks on his back, that if I were to stand with my back against his arm, his torso breadth would my shoulder-width. That back! A dozen crevices zigzagged among the humped cobbles and stony plateaus, undulating and transforming like a landscape in a dream. I pinched myself – I was awake. My master, Sir Alain, a knight of the royal court, had come to Chateaulin bearing the king’s congratulations to Count Houel on the birth of his second son. The Count was throwing a birth festival before hosting the folkmoot, and my master had entered the lists. He was speaking with the Marshal of the castle, Sir Geoff. Sir Geoff looked amused by our gawking. “That’s Hugh, one of my boys,” Sir Geoff explained. “He’s about the age of your boy here.” “Impossible!” Sir Alain sputtered. “I’ve seen quarry workers who couldn’t rival him for size!” “I rescued him after his parents exposed him in the woods,” Sir Geoff continued. “I soon discovered why – when he became impatient for food or cleaning, he smashed his crib to splinters with his tiny newborn fists. They feared raising a prodigy, but in some way, I felt commanded to care for him – I guessed then it was the voice of God, but now….” He paused, and changed course. “He’s very lonely – the other boys avoid him. He spends a great deal of time hunting alone in the forest.” “The Count allows a boy in the chase?” Sir Alain sustained shock after shock, and he hadn’t even mounted his steed yet. “The Count and all the farmers are grateful,” Sir Geoff explained. “Since he began entering the forest, we haven’t seen or heard a single wolf – it’s been years now. He eats like several men, and I can hardly increase his rations in front of the other boys, so he supplements his hunger with boars and other things he catches with his hands. The husbandmen even give him a portion of meat at every slaughter in thanks for his protection. It’s almost pagan,” Geoff added with a wry smile. “What a remarkable warrior he would be,” Sir Alain marveled, “if only he had a better station, and not born for the front line. Robert Guiscard could take all of Italy and drive Emperor Constantine into the arms of the Turks. But perhaps the work of a beast is a more fitting utilization of his unique – talents – after all. Providence is never wrong.” Sir Geoff looked at him sideways with his arms crossed, and said nothing. Soon we were preparing for the joust, a new form where, instead of a mass charge around the field, two knights face each other one-on-one and try not to get killed. I was nervous as a girl, though only King Philip could beat my master (though “beat” might not be a completely accurate description of what actually happened). My master was called against Sir Geoff and the knights rode out, the sunlight dancing off their shiny mail hauberks. They leveled their lances, and at the signal, charged. Almost immediately a strap on Sir Geoff’s saddle broke and he wobbled – but through his narrow visor, my master must not have noticed. Geoff couldn’t brace himself for a thrust and my master glanced a blow off his shoulder that sent Geoff spinning through the air and landing with a hearty smack. Everyone rose in silent suspense. My master had already turned about, still not realizing what had happened, not seeing see Geoff’s boys rush to his aid, . He began his parade – but a spur only jostled him in his saddle – his horse neighed but didn’t move. He kicked again but his mount’s effort to spring only resulting in it being pulled back into the air. My master dropped onto his back in the mud. Stunned, Alain looked up and saw Hugh holding his horse by the tail, fury etched into his handsome young face. “A strap broke – it wasn’t far, you should have stopped!” Hugh yelled – a shocking breach of order. My master flailed but couldn’t rise. My fellow knaves hesitated at the sight of Hugh – only I had quickly sprinted over – so Hugh cheekily slid his arm underneath my masters and effortlessly pulled him to his feet. They were the same height – maybe Hugh was my age, but he was easily a foot taller. “Apologize at once!” Hugh demanded, pressing his chest forward and making my master step awkwardly back. The audience gasped again at these unprecedented offenses, the Count himself shocked speechless. Instinctively raising his shield against Hugh’s “well-armed” aggression, Alain glared past him, glaring at a helmetless Geoff, who winced as boys removed his armor. “Sir, control your boy before his unseemly pride proves fatal!” Whether the threat irked Hugh more than being ignored, I’ll never know, but I saw Hugh’s jaw clench. In a blur, his arm sprang into the air, parallel with the ground, and punched my master’s shield in a quick, efficiently lethal motion – as if my master were livestock for slaughtering. Alain stumbled backward, sucking for air – the blow had split his shield and the horribly dented steel boss had torn the leather hide, sliced through the mail and sunk into Alain’s chest. The leather hide covering the shield trapped his strapped arms – he couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t pull it off. He fell on his knees, stunned and bleeding. The boys huddled in terror so I pleaded with Hugh, “Help him! He’s dying!” Rage melted from Hugh’s face like a passing storm and he realized with alarm what his immeasurable power had done – and to a man ostensibly his “better.” Hugh grabbed each side of the shield and wrenched them apart, shredding the hide covering and exposing the boss. He pulled that out and blood spurted against his face. He put his fingers into the mail and ripped it open like rotten cloth, pressing on the wound to staunch the flow until my fellows braved his proximity and aided our master. The doctor rushed forward, relieved that he could bind the wound without having the remove the mail shirt first. Count Houel rose imperiously and called for Geoff. I couldn’t hear what they said, but Geoff kept nodding and Houel furiously pounded his fist in his palm. Hugh stood a few feet from me with his head down. I smelled something sweet and salty I couldn’t quite place – I closed my eyes and it tickled the back of my mind. Like a memory I haven’t lived yet. I’d secretly taken the twisted and torn boss, and now surreptitiously fingered it behind my back – feeling the shape of his knuckles where they turned it inside-out, the warped edge that had torn and hurt him it should be protecting. Fortunately it missed his heart and lungs – but it’s the kind of scar you want from battle – not from a boy’s fist. Geoff went to Alain first, confirming the punishment, then came over and placed his hand on Hugh’s shoulder. His hand rose and fell like a rowboat at sea as Hugh breathed. Hugh nodded and walked around the center rail. A riffle disturbed the female stands, back and forth like a cauldron being stirred. Two big yoked draft horses were brought out and I understood what Hugh faced. I dropped to my knee beside my master and said, “Please, my lord, please spare his life! I’m sure he can be reformed! I believe he can do anything, anything he sets his mind to.” Alain patted my arm. “We’re only frightening him with what will happen if he doesn’t learn his place. The ostlers won’t let him get hurt. Too badly.” As I helped him into chair, I heard Hugh say, “What about my other arm?” My balls tingled. I shifted from foot to foot as a strange irritation grew in my groin. Two more horses were brought up from the stable. Hugh stuck out his arms, releasing feral tangles of reddish-gold curls sprouting beneath them and spraying a mist of sweat. With ropes, the ostlers lashed Hugh’s wrists to the yokes. Then, to guarantee the horses wouldn’t bolt and kill him, their bridles were lashed to the corners of the court, with enough slack that they could apply a torturous pressure that would remind Hugh of his place in the future. The horses fidgeted nervously, nostrils flaring and hooves kneading the dirt. Houel made an angry speech about honor and respect, but sensing a universal impatience, yielded Alain the field. Alain lifted his hand, and dropped it wearily. The ostlers promptly goaded the horses forward. The ropes leading from Hugh’s wrists twisted, but so did the ropes between his wrists and shoulders – his arms that almost dwarfed the haunches of the horses themselves. Each horse took several steps before its hooves slid against the dirt. Alain nodded again and the ostlers urged the horses harder – but the beasts could only lean into their bridles until the effort made them shake. Hugh stared at a point in the sky, his torso rising and falling, his legs planted like oaks. The stable boys urged the horses forward, but their legs could only dig grooves in the ground. Hugh turned his arms slightly, aligning his heaped shoulders with the winglike flare of his back, and refused to move. A sheen of sweat dappled the burnished golden down covering him, and I caught that sweet, wild scent stirring me – though there was no breeze. I realized it came from under Hugh’s arms. The horses smelled something different – their nostrils flared and with a single shriek, they bolted – or rather, attempted it. Hugh panicked at the sound and tensed his arms – two horses stumbled onto their forelegs. Hugh bolted them all in place. His hands gripped the ropes with white knuckles and his unexpected restraint multiplied panic into terror. The horses threw themselves against the ropes, bucking and springing, but only rising straight up instead of forward. The teams danced side to side, seeking any advantage over the terrible weight that pinned them down – and Hugh, squinting, jerked the ropes tight and stopped their dancing. Hugh pulled his shoulder blades together, his flesh humping and squeezing together. This dragged the horses backwards, and they screamed and stamped the ground in fear and fury. Hugh bent his elbows, tightening his arm muscles, and sixteen hooves skidded toward him half a metre. His hands twisted and he gripped the rope farther along, pulling it toward him as his swollen arms turned purple with veins. Though only half-bent, the meat of his forearms pressed against his bulbous upper arms. The horses’ eyes rolled with panic, their mouths frothing and chomping their bits. Hugh closed his eyes and, swaying side to side as he absorbed the animals’ combined efforts, raised his fists higher and brought them closer together. The reins to the court posts tautened and, as the audience gawped in amazement, the horses themselves rose off the ground and floundered, writhing helplessly in mid-air. Hugh twisted the rope again and drew more into his relentless fingers, his chest rippling with dents and ridges as he fought to bring his fists together, lungs heaving. The animals twisted as they stretched between the posts and Hugh, their shrieks strangled by the pressure into hoarse gasps of desperation. Urine and shit poured out of each animal as Hugh’s inexorable hands reached for each other. A shocking crack of splitting timbers shook the stands as the posts gave way – but not enough. A groan like stretching leather was followed with a horribly wet FWWWWUMMMPPPPP! Hugh’s fists knocked against each other – because his arms had ripped four horses apart, spewing blood and gore over his rounded masses and into the crowd. The torn torsos flew towards him and clumped into the dirt while the head-half rebounded into stands. Some people screamed and ran but some couldn’t move, shaking or trembling. Flushed with victory, Hugh smiled broadly and quickly shredded his rope. He opened his eyes and saw with disbelief what carnage his arms had wrought. His skin glowing and his entire body heaved for air, a weird pride surmounting the grotesquerie. Young maidens surged from the stands, yammering and gazing devotedly at him. Pleased (and a little stunned), he flexed his arms and the girls caught their breath – a couple swooned. The bush-covered, deep round pocket that sank between his back and chest and smelled warm and inviting. One bold lass reached out to touch him, giggling, her fingers flying back as if burned. “It’s okay,” Hugh said. “I can make it bigger.” Hugh began pumping his arms, and muscles still swollen from the struggle turned from red to violet, with blue veins snaking under the skin. Each pump expanded his arms got bigger, until their round shape changed and a second peaked cap rose above the bulk. The maidens were all modestly attired – not a bosom in sight – and yet his presence, his heat, his scent compelled their hands to reach for him, regardless of propriety. Several of the girls swarmed around him, their fingers exploring his physique as they might a statue of Hercules. With a huge smile, Hugh dropped his arms and thrust out his chest, letting them uselessly poke their fingers into its obdurate surface, feel its edges and contours. I could see it dawning on their astonished faces how Hugh’s living flesh mocked the so-called armor of the knights. As their fingertips traced the arabesque of ridges in his back, I could also see a single pulse along one leg of his trousers. Hugh’s own eyes now brightened as the fawning girls sparked pleasure in his man-parts, which in turn shadowed his handsome face with anxiety. Despite his advance development, I guessed he’d always used his arms and legs as tools, never experienced a rush of triumphant potency flooding his limbs, then reaching beyond them and enthralling the opposite sex. The girls’ desire sparked lightning which flowed through his muscles to his manhood, forever fusing sexual arousal with displaying his body and exerting his strength. As if he were entirely a living erection. A savage bellow erupted from suddenly jostling shrubbery and in a cloud of dust, a massive bull appeared, its nose bloody where it ripped away from its ring. The girls shrieked and fled, many simply crouching behind Hugh. The bull faced Hugh and pawed the ground, challenging him. I heard my master say, “There’s something in Hugh’s sweat that disturbs stallions and bulls alike. It maddened those horses, and now our bull senses his dominance threatened.” Before anyone could move, the bull lowered its broad head and charged, lance-sharp horns swinging wildly. Hugh growled back and actually ran at the bull, bulging arms cocked and ready to spring. They met in a thunderclap of bone striking bone-hard muscle as Hugh slammed his chest against the bull’s skull. Each animal bounced back from the impact, the bull staggering with its tongue out. Hugh recovered first and grabbed the horns low. Digging his mighty legs into the soft earth, he shoved the bull’s skidding hooves back, away from the stands. But the bull seemed locked on his enemy – it swung and shook its huge head – or attempted to. Hugh grunted and rocked sideways; his shoulders turning ominously toward the beast, each like a head sprouting a thicker horn. The bull bucked his head until Hugh slowly, steadily, unmercifully slowed it into immobility. The bull pulled back and twisted its thick neck the other way – but Hugh twisted his wrists and raised his elbows, checking its progress and holding it tight. With a strained groan, Hugh forced the shuddering head back up. The bull tried to toss Hugh up into the air but Hugh’s grip held it like tar. With a war cry, Hugh exploded and slammed the bull’s head down against the ground. Angered, stunned, the bull leaped forward – but didn’t get far. Hugh’s shoulders sank back, soaking up the bull’s strength and then driving it back out against the animal with greater force. In quick bursts Hugh thrust the bull back; its set hooves trenched the earth which could not withstand Hugh’s power. Trapped in superior hands – Hugh utterly controlled the head, defying the animal’s every twitch – the animal’s eyes rolled and its bellows rose in broken cries of disbelief. The crowd cheered to see this boy-man tame a bull bare-handed – so Hugh grinned and raised one fist into the air … and contained the bestial violence with one hand! The crowd’s deafening praise drowned out the bull’s chest-rumbling fury, its rippling shoulder and haunches quivering, shaking – impotent. Squealing with rage, the bull jabbed its free horn a few centimetres at Hugh. The boy brought his free fist down on the bull’s head. A crack like lightning splitting a tree shocked everyone to silence. Hugh struck the bull again, his knuckles smacking into the densest part between the horns. The bull’s knees buckled and drool looped out of its mouth. One more THWOKKK and the bull dropped flat. Shaking out his hand while the crowd cheered, Hugh walked around and stuck his arms under the bull’s belly. In one swift move he lifted the enormous beast up against his chest … and then his arms pressed it up over his head. He dropped it once against his own stony shoulders and the bull guttered an exhausted wheeze. He lifted the pull again and repeated the drop, the impact making the bull’s head loll. Finally Hugh lifted the bull over his head and carried it around the arena, giving everyone a close look before he SLAMMED it against the ground, its legs splayed out like petals. The impact clattered weapons in their racks, and some of the ladies lost their balance. The bull lay perfectly still so Hugh slapped its face several times to see if he had killed it with one fist. The bull opened its eyes, saw Hugh, licked Hugh’s hand and rolled over on its back, its enormous male-part exposed, red and glistening. Hugh held both hands over his head again like a champ. Under the crowd’s cheers I heard my master mutter, “That bull will never stud again.” “Young knave,” announced Houel once ordered was restored, “God and Fortune have placed you in the lowest estate, in which your earlier offenses to Sir Alain are unpardonable. And yet your manly vigor and dauntless courage indicate a nobler origin, one in which your outburst would not only be unexceptional, but possibly demanded as a point of honor. With your parentage unknown, we may never know the truth – except through your honorable and obedient actions henceforth. I bid you to mind your tongue and temper, obey my vassal Sir Geoff in all things, and your God-thewn limbs may one day raise you to an estate commensurate with your valor.” The Count then turned to the events planned for after noon dinner, but my eyes were drawn to his left arm, which had disappeared behind his back. It appeared to be rhythmically twisting back and forth – or rather, in and out – as he spoke of Hugh. I doubt anyone else noticed – all eyes remained on the smiling hero, his cowed bull; Hugh’s innocent freckles belied a ferocity lurking underneath. I had to see to my master’s horse. Hugh led me to the stable, saying eagerly, “You need to clean the hooves, right?” he asked me. Before I could so much as unstrap the saddle, Hugh ducked underneath the stallion and lifted him over his head – this after so many exertions already! The horse panicked at first, but Hugh’s deep voice and commanding presence calmed it – I even saw the head of its maleness peeking out, as with the bull. My own trousers felt heavy and tight and I stood riveted before the column of living power before me. “Well, go on!” he said. “I’m hungry!” I grabbed a pick and indulged in cleaning each hoof without bending over – I barely had to move the stallion’s legs. When I indicated I was done – I had no voice – Hugh gently put the horse down and deftly unbuckled the tack, which he effortlessly carried, saddle in one hand and all the dressings in the other, to a bench and rack against the wall. When he came back, he asked if he could brush the animal instead. “I didn’t like hurting those horses before, or the bull,” he said sheepishly. “Something just came over me I can’t put into words – like when I’m hunting. I’m usually gentle here.” He wielded the brush like a pro, the stallion responding with shivers and affectionate nudges – one animal acknowledging the superior protection and care of another. I marveled, not for the first time, how some animals sense danger in his aroma, while others are soothed … and aroused. Hugh ate separately from the other boys, who swarmed around the young squire. The noble boy kept looking at Hugh with jealousy, but managed to captivate the other boys with tales of court love affairs and adventures. Only one boy looked our way … and he too looked jealous when he caught my eye. Hugh finished his portion of stew before I had barely begun, and fetched a bag full of preserved meats from his stash. The rough burlap had his name crudely embroidered on it, and while I finished my plate, the boy-man devoured several hunks of dried meat, teeth ripping the hard flesh apart with animal hunger. The morning’s excitement, and being both full and so near Hugh’s humid heat, made me long for a nap. But Hugh jumped up and dragged me with an iron grip out to watch the afternoon events. When prizes were awarded, everyone looked at Hugh as if they knew he deserved not only the top prize, but the whole array of jewelry. The winners too seemed abashed, even my master, who came in third overall and got a beautiful golden torque with three emeralds. I noted that, though decorative, it could fit his neck – but not Hugh’s. I had to attend my master at dinner and eat with the other boys, but when we were dismissed, I left them and went back to the stable. He brightened like dawn when he saw me – his new friend – and we went outside and sat on a stone in the cool evening. Without a word, he draped his heavy arm around my shoulders and I stiffened to support its weight. After watching the stars come out in companionable silence, he yawned like a lion and guided me to his lonely straw pallet, away from the boys on the other side of the animal stalls. Hugh dropped his trousers pulled off his loin cloth, sniffed it, nodded and put it back on. His virile member swung away like a pendulum – but most remarkably, it was utterly smooth. I had thought, given the maturity of his armpits, that he’d be woolly below as well – but that growth had not yet started, it seemed, no more than his beard. How poised between two worlds he seemed, striding them both like the Colossus of Rhodes. Unexpectedly, I felt fear sleeping next to a creature so powerful and, worried he might crush me in his sleep (or in a bear-hugging dream), I curled into a tight ball on the edge of the mat. The night turned frigid and a howling wind whipped around the stable. But Hugh burned like a fully-stoked furnace, his pale skin radiant. I heard him say, “Are you afraid of me too?” I rolled over and, shivering, told him, “I didn’t think I was, but suddenly I felt very tiny.” He looked hurt and said, “I never hurt little creatures. That would be terrible. I don’t even step on worms after it rains.” He extended his arm and I wormed closer, his heat like a heavy woolen blanket embracing me. My head was smaller than the pillow of his arm, not stony at all but firm and, in some way, compelling and safe. He saw the arch in my loincloth and looked around excitedly – “Did girls sneak in?” When he realized we were alone, he sighed and said, “Oh, you’re like Ralph. Ralph was my friend until the others turned him against me.” “Nothing could ever turn me against you!” I blurted out. “I would pledge myself to you as your vassal forever, here and now, if you could take me.” He giggled at the ridiculous thought but nestled happily against me. “You can touch them, if you want,” he said quietly. “I never used to like it when Ralph did it, but today it felt different – all those girls’ hands. I don’t know what I felt. I sure liked it though.” “You’ve never been with a girl?” I asked in amazement, assuming he’d plowed wide and deep. He shook his head. “My master told me the story of Samson, but the truth was, his hair was a symbol of the other thing that grows out of a man. And when he lay with Delilah, she took his essence – so he became weak, her weak slave.” I realized Geoff must have been afraid of what Hugh’s youthful exuberance might do to a tender girl – or grown woman, or sheep or cow. I said nothing and placed my hand on his belly, which ran beneath my fingers like hot bricks on a cooking hearth. I explored the heavy bulk beneath his smooth skin, not clench into stones but full of rumbling threat, rising and falling with his breath. It felt like a city street brought to life, the cobbles able to yield or harden at will. My hand crept up to where his chest rose up like an escarpment – though he lay flat on his back! – and spread like wings to either side. I could barely reach over his chest and rub the solid mound of his shoulder, and stroke the junction where his chest and arm came together like the stanchion of a rope bridge. He raised his forearm and drew my face in his humid armpit. Though I wasn’t nearly finished exploring his manly terrain, the heat and sweet pit-fumes and soft tickling hairs overwhelmed me and I shot my seed in several fierce spurts, my whole being jerking and one foot cramping up. I don’t know if he noticed, but he didn’t let me go – I think he’d already fallen asleep. My release, after the day’s events, left me empty and I too slept in his dark musky chamber. I awoke before dawn – Hugh was already at his chores. Duke Conan would be arriving this morning to begin the folkmoot (there’s quite a queue of gripers this time around, I hear), and the great entertainments would continue, including a troupe of acrobatic Prussian dwarves said to be astounding and funny. A post rider ripped by us and headed straight into the castle. Word went around that we were to assemble, and soon Count Houel mounted the rampart along with by Sir Geoff and the seneschal, an old man, called for everyone’s attention. “My esteemed brother-in-law, Conan Duke of Bretagne,” Houel announced, “shall arrive presently – yes, yay, quiet, quiet! – and he sends ahead not only his salutations – please, quiet! – but also a demand: William, Duke of Normandy, has taken Maine - yes, an outrage! – and our lord expects Normandy shall enter our lands as well, with or without invitation. Every able-bodied man of service age is to immediately prepare for a dress inspection with what weapons and armor he is able to supply, so that we may assess the state of our defense and prepare accordingly. We shall gather again an hour before dinner ready for war and our lord’s review.” He clapped his gauntlets and hell erupted as everyone leapt pall-mall to get home and dust/shine what rusty pieces of tin may decorate their mantels. The Bretons hadn’t seen much action in recent years other than border skirmishes here and there. Now local politics had now thrown Bretagne’s scent under William’s nose and he was chasing it down like the dog of war he is. For armor, the knaves generally tussled over left-overs and scraps from the smithies, but nothing fit Hugh. An older boy remembered an unusually stout squire many years ago who had left mail behind. It was out of style but I doubt anyone would notice that, if it fit. Hugh had to borrow a tunic from the blacksmith – he rarely wore a shirt of any sort. I spread tallow over the arms and shoulders of the borrowed tunic, trying not to linger in the all the rippling valleys and crests which thrummed like volcanos even while relaxed. I and three other boys then lowered the hauberk over his head. We could have restyled the hauberk, repositioning the giant belly links to Hugh’s shoulders where they were needed, but we hadn’t time. We jerked and yanked hung our entire weight off the armor, squeezing it around the outcroppings his his chest, shoulders and back. It hung loose halfway down his midsection and when he put down his arms, the sleeves didn’t quite reach the elbow. The coif fit fine over his head but was tight around his neck, and spread only partly as far over his upper torso as it was designed to. He started breathing fast in the constricting armor, the clinking links rattling with each breath oddly disturbing, if musical. He could barely move in any direction and looked as stiff as a giant wearing a doll’s costume. We watched in awe as the many war machines were wheeled out and lined up for demonstrations. Somehow, I thought Hugh more impressive than they. By the time Duke Conan arrived, all the pomp and ritual left us sweating in the sun, knees trembling from the weight of unaccustomed armor. A couple boys passed out, clattering to the ground, but Hugh looked fine – confined, sweatily pungeant, but unaffected by the heat. While reviewing us, Conan blinked several times when he came to Hugh. “You there, come forward,” Conan ordered. Hugh walked stiffly forward. “How can you fight? It looks like you can barely move.” Knowing he had erred in not previously providing Hugh with suitable armor in case of war – so rare was fighting in these parts – Geoff piped up and said, “He’s had a growth spurt recently and his armor is actually at the blacksmith’s for alterations--” Duke Conan silenced him, eyes glued to Hugh, and said, “I was speaking to the … boy.” He walked around Hugh, suppressing a sigh at the span from side to side, and front to back. He actually ran his fingers across Hugh’s upper back to test if this was some kind of prank. I don’t think he could tell where the steel stopped and Hugh began. Suspicious, perhaps, that beneath the tunic was steel casing of some kind – perhaps plated armor (Houel could hardly afford to fit his entire levy in plate – no one could), Conan came around and ordered Hugh to raise his arms. Then he cocked his ear, listening closely. Hugh raised his arms straight out the side. The links squirmed noisily as the hard surface below changed shape. The entire hauberk rode up several inches. “Now throw your arm back and bend it as if you were going to throw a spear.” Hugh got his arm half-way back when he got stuck. Conan exchanged a dark look with Count Houel and Hugh wiggled his torso, shifting several more belly inches up around his chest so he could move his arm all the way back. As he half-bent his arm, the links twisted and flattened around it. “Make a muscle,” Conan ordered. Hugh obliged. Hugh tightened his fist made his sinews expand, higher and wider. The mail exploded, shooting fragments of steel in both directions. The other warriors yelled and shielded themselves from the painful missiles. The Duke blinked and saw the pale reddened mound surmounting through the shattered mail, splitting the tunic as Hugh made it bigger … and bigger … and bigger still … and with a final straining grin, created two peaks and peppered us with several more links. Hugh looked eagerly at Conan for approval, but Conan simply stood there with his mouth open. So Hugh, thinking the Duke wanted to see more, held out his other arm and flexed it fully-extended. The chain mail tightened noisily while the meat of his back-arm jutted out … getting rounder … bigger … until it shamed the upper arms of most men and held the links at maximum tautness. His front-arm resembled rose in a long arch, trembling a moment against the links until they popped in the middle and ripped open, exposing the deep crevice between the two halves. Hugh then flexed his arm to match, possibly outdo, his other arm – and the mail and tunic obediently tore apart deep into the pit and over the dragon-claw undulations of his shoulder. He stood there, showing off his two beauties, and several women fainted. Female sighs and moans (or I should say, high-pitched sounds – not limited to females) sang through the assembly as he put his hands on his hips. At the same time, he moved his elbows out and widened his back in stages, left to right, left to right, so you could see his it from the front! The links chinked and jumped, the bottom rising higher and higher up his torso … and then Hugh bounced his chest muscles back and forth. Twisted steel shards blew off his chest and showered down on the crowd, often drawing blood. Even the Duke was not immune but nobody stopped him, watching him in rapt awe. Pulling his shoulders forward, he split the hauberk down the sides, tearing steel like old cloth. Strips of unhinged metal flowed off his body like oil. He kept on popping all his muscles until he reduced the tattered armor to old fringe hanging off the coif. For a moment, I felt a communal urge to spontaneously kneel. But Conan’s eyes shone avidly, and he clapped his hands together. He turned toward a pavilion set up for dinner and ordered, “Clear away the food and bring that banquet table up onto the dais. Right up there,” Conan pointed. As servants scurried, I heard him say to Houel, “I think we have a secret weapon against Normandy right here. I will test of his capacities.” Turning to Hugh, he intoned, “Young knave, come forward and show us your pith.” “Please, sire,” Hugh said, bowing and coloring deeply, “I’ve done enough lately, and it makes the other boys – they’re scared of me. I don’t want to scare people anymore.” “It’s not a request, boy!” Conan thundered. “You will do as commanded or face the consequences.” A nod from Geoff removed his objection and he nodded his obedience. Obviously the Duke hadn’t been informed about the bloodbath yesterday’s “consequences” turned into. It took four straining, huffing servants to trundle over the enormous oak-plank table over the uneven ground. While they struggled with the empty table, Hugh pulled off the coif, his arm nearly pressing against his face, and stripped off the remnants of mail and tunic. A flock of girls surrounded him, rubbing shreds of tallow-covered tunic into his white, perfect skin with a fervid devotion that would make the saints jealous. Others caressed his chest and several explored his back. Three or four of them gripped his arms and he suddenly raised them to his sides, the girls hanging off like pennants and giggling with feverish delight. He showed off how his arms charged shape, raising and lowering the girls with only the granite peaks. They swung back and forth but he stood solid as a Maypole. A couple dropped to caress his legs through the boar hides but that alarmed the ancient seneschal, who hobbled over with a loud bell and shooed them all away. The table arrived at the said, but the servants were too exhausted to lift it up the step, so four fresh servants came and heaved, fumbling, with all their might. Duke Conan grinned and commanded, “Everyone - remove your armor and pile it onto the table!” Geoff sent the dwarf troupe over to help, and as boys helped free their masters and shucked their own hauberks, the dwarves made a clever show of passing it along and, climbing upon each other’s shoulders, layering the mail and helmets with exaggerated artistry. The boards of the platform groaned and popped as the weight increased, and increased further. Just when I thought I heard the table complain as well, Conan called a halt, and ordered two goblets to be filled with wine and set at either end of the table. Reaching into a pocket inside his sleeve, Conan pulled out a small cross, gold with garnets and pearls. “If young … young …” (a servant whispered to him) “young knave Hugh can lift this table into the air without spilling so much as a drop of wine from either goblet, I will entrust his master with this, my own devotional cross, to secure his education and his future needs.” A collective gasp went up – knaves were not allowed to own gold. To have a small treasure in trust for the future was unheard of. Conan either doubted Hugh could combine vigor with dexterity and endurance … or he prayed for it with all his soul. Geoff caught Hugh’s shoulder and whispered, “Remember – when you move things quickly then stop, anything not tied down will keep moving. Slow and steady.” I could see Hugh reining his enthusiasm by the set of his jaw. He leapt onto the dais from a stand and surveyed he table from various angles. The platform cricked underneath Hugh’s feet as he circled – the links of armor tinkled and flared in the sun. His additional weight severely stressed a dais constructed to hold a dozen men. The table sported a pair of stout columns carved with spiraling grooves at each end, braced by an inconvenient trestle running the nearly three-metre length of the bankette. And undulating terrain of steel rose in layers above his head. The goblets were nearly brimful. The trestle would get caught between his legs if he straddled it – he’d never get it all the way. I saw now Conan’s strategy – not simply testing Hugh’s brawn, but his strategic thinking and adaptability. And any solution would require more than simple pith. He went around to the back so all we could see was Hugh’s bent, boar-hide covered legs under the table – the armor pile fully obscured him. He squatted and extended his arms at angles underneath. Then he straightened his legs: and the table rose steadily off the platform. Cries of awe and disbelief rifled through the crowd. The platform sank beneath his feet, the wood barking loudly. Widening his stance, Hugh seemed to drop his shoulders and press up from underneath – the towering steel swayed and flashed in the sun. He edged one foot in front of the other, boards sagging loudly from the concentrated weight. Finally, the bottom of his chest-shelf caught against the trestle. He took several deep breaths while everyone else held theirs. In one smooth movement, he powered the creaking table out and up into the air, slipped his head underneath it and shifting his hands to align with the corners for stability. A loud POPPPP! burst from the platform, which bounced dangerously beneath him. One of the builders caught his attention with a glinting knife, and pointed out where the joists were. With a grateful smile (me: jealous), Hugh slowly spread his legs until they rested on the cross-supports. Thicker trusses protested at such punishment – when it was covered with chairs and people, the platform had been silent, solid as the earth – but they took the stress. He whipped his back leg forward and the swirl of interlocking sinews that rose from his waist and twisted around each other to brace the expanse of his upper torso made the carved pillars at the table’s ends look puny. Plus, how such a narrow, flat and tightly-coiled abdomen could rise and moor the broad clustered beef that anchored his oak-branch arms … it defied belief. No blubbery “strongman” rival such power, such beauty. Sweat trickled down the gullies and trenches of his man-flesh, and his groiny-salted scent wafted insensibly through the crowd. Men stirred unwittingly, uncomfortably, some angrily, while girls and women both undulated, their own bodies responding to Hugh’s proximity by lubricating their gyrations and stirring their desires. I felt my own ass and cock discharge an oily moisture as I wiped drool off my chin. Hugh turned his hands backwards and pressed the table high. The mountains of armor shifted slightly but the tremoring goblets stayed dry. As the trestle scraped against his belly – I half-expected to see shavings fall away as Hugh’s serrations carved the wood as it rose. But of course, the ladies had massaged enough cow fat into his skin that it slid easily past them. With his arms extending above his head, his chest bulged out so far out that Hugh pressed his his chin against the top of one to brace his neck. It did not dent. With a final grunt, he thrust and locked his elbows, the bole-thick knotted arms fitting into his shoulder and chest musculature like a complex war machine. The trestle caught on his overhanging chest and bent like a bow in that final thrust – I dug my nails into my legs, afraid the wood would crack. But the squawking wood held and a cheer went up all around. All except Conan, who’s intent face sweated as profusely as Hugh’s, and whose hips jerked violently, his entire body rigid. But Hugh wasn’t done defying our imaginations. Carefully, Hugh stepped to the end of the dais and dropped down onto the first step, bending his arms to keep the table level as he descended. The stair steps squeaked until he got nearly to the bottom, when one snapped with a BANG! Everyone jumped and yelled in fear for him. But Hugh took it in stride, smoothly following the drop while scrunching his body to keep the table level. He dropped his other foot onto the ground, and walked through the last, splintering steps and risers as if they were made of straw. He carried the table directly to Conan himself. Tension gripped the crowd – what was he going to do? For a moment, I felt a flash of panic - he would hurl the table and its contents onto the Duke and pronounce himself King, defying all challengers. I even saw Conan flinch, his guards fidgeting between the call of duty and the sudden will to flee. But Hugh merely lowered the table back down so that it hovered above the ground, and turned it sideways so Conan could observe, and remove, the first unspilled goblet without having to move himself. Then he kept turning, showing Conan and the audience the rippling contours of this back, which tremored in a rapid tattoo from the strain but never flagged from their labors. My eyes were drawn to the perfect globes capping his hide-clad legs - I wanted to grab them and pull him against me – or hang on while he pressed himself into me. But I shook those thoughts out of my head. Hugh stopped again so Conan could take the second goblet and verify that not a drop had spilled from it either. The he completed his circle and, his arms and shoulders beginning to quiver, he lowered the table to the ground as if presenting it as a gift to his lord. Hugh came around, issuing a hot wind of deep breaths and looking as though he could defy Samson and Hercules together. He dropped down on one knee before Conan, his head sinking beneath the rising plateaus of his back. Hugh could barely control his quavering musculature as he recovered from the punishing victory – he vibrated with effort and stilled himself, as he had the bull. In a cracked, hollow voice, Conan said, “Riiii--” He coughed drily, drank half a goblet down and sputtered, half-choking. With wine staining his chin, he said in a tight voice, “Rise, s- … m-my boy. Where is your m-m-master?” Geoff stepped forward, beaming with pride and relief. Conan gave Geoff the golden jeweled cross, and made him swear an oath on the blood of the Savior that that treasure should be used only to secure a future fit for man who will doubtless perform feats of great renown in the service of his lord and land. Again he crowd cheered and Hugh disappeared beneath a roiling female sea. Water, oil, food passed hand to hand through the crowd to care for him where he knelt, and Conan, feeling singularly ignored, stepped over the Houel and called Geoff and Alain to them. “I had thought to test your war machines against one of the menhirs in that field over there – but I think that, once he has fed and rested, we should test them against young Hugh. That will give us a greater idea of how we could deploy him against the machines of our enemies.” Geoff clearly wanted to protest – both the test and the “use” of Hugh in place of a giant rock simply went too far. But it was not his place, and turned away and prepared to speak with Hugh about what he still must do to fully earn the jeweled cross. Myself, I felt Hugh would love dominating the biggest, mightiest mechanisms created by man – if he were fresh. The last few days, he expended more puissance than a dozen or more grown men. Any failure due to fatigue could make him very angry. And I’d seen him angry – Hugh nearly killed an armored knight with one controlled half-punch through his shield. Even a days’ delay would restore him sufficiently. Worried for him, and the rest of us, I tried to tote up how many men would have to pool their strength to accomplish Hugh’s many feats – the horses followed by the bull, then lifting a horse, then chores chores chores; and chores the next morning before bursting armor and slowly lifting a weight that nearly destroyed the dais he stood on. I could see men falling in exhausting, others rushing to sustain an enterprise for which Hugh required no assistance. I felt dizzy – such potency in one boy-man violated every sense of reason and nature. It was a breach in the world, some supremacy stepping down from the world beyond and stretching human belief to its breaking point. I remembered Jacob had wrestled with an angel, and held it helpless in his arms for three solid days before the angel was able to treacherously injure Jacob’s hip, and escape ignominiously the patriarch’s iron grasp. If men have lived before who could dominate even the angels of God, then perhaps such a man could exist again – not a pagan mythical Hercules, but real man, created by God … perhaps to test our faith. See if we would worship the miracle worker or the one true God who made him. I prayed for guidance through this confusion … but my hands weren’t the only part of me pointing towards heaven. “Jealous?” Alain said, coming up behind me, making me jump. “Ah! Sir, uh, n-no…” I stuttered. He gently cuffed my head and gestured to where Hugh had moved to a couch and was being fed and massaged (or groped) by a hundred hands. “Someday you’ll have the girls pawing over you too,” he told me. “But I’m afraid today, no man here can compete with this shining prodigy.” Relief flooded me – he never suspected who I was jealous of…. Mid-afternoon, people stretching from naps re-assembled for the siege-engine demonstration. The first to be wheeled forward was a new battering ram. “In battle,” Geoff explained, “the roof would be covered with wet hides. Thirty metres long, it weighs over a tonne thanks to the iron head. We can fit thirty men on each side.” “That doesn’t look like a ram to me,” Conan said, peering at the head. “It looks like … a fist.” Houel glowed with pride. “That was my innovation. It’s more frightening, isn’t it? Like the fist of God knocking on the door.” Conan rolled his eyes and said sourly, “I think if Hugh stands on that rise over there, he’ll be in a position to test this … fingered thing.” While the engine was wheeled into place, Hugh eagerly ran over and put his hands on his hips. The shadows his wide shoulders and prominent chest cast over his stomach made the cobbles look truly like a stone wall … except that, while he waited, Hugh flexed and relaxed the individual cobbles and rolled his stomach like sea swells. Stone walls can’t do that. Geoff instructed the soldiers, “Let’s start slow – just you ten.” They positions and began swinging the chains faster, and faster, and faster. The heavy SWOOOOOSH through the air conveyed the speed and weight of the ram and for a moment, I seriously feared for Hugh: that ram could knock a bull out more efficiently than Hugh had. It could kill the bull at one blow. Had Hugh met his match? Soldiers swiftly pulled the brakes away while others shove and the machine lurched forward with its thick capped member extending obscenely. An ear-splitting SMAKKKKK! made us wince as the iron fist struck Hugh dead center in his belly. Hugh flew off his feet and the machine lurched backward, shoulders yelling from the shock that rattled their arms. Hugh landed on his shield-tough back several metres away and rutted the turf landing. He immediately sat up and waved he was unhurt, shaking his golden curls to clear his head. The soldiers however hobbled off the platform, gripping their forearms in each hand, faced carved in pain. “That was fun!” Hugh laughed before leaping straight up onto his feet. His stomach blazed angry scarlet beneath his pale freckled chest. He mock-punched himself and clowned like it really hurt, but then he grinned and, stretching side to side and back and forward, assumed his stance for round two. The crowd bubbled with murmuring like a pot nearing the boil – particularly on the ladies’ side. The men gave each other dirty looks at how openly their women displayed such rampant desires – an impotent rage, given their rival. Two dozen new soldiers replaced the first crew and exchanged nervous glances. Once again, the chains swung back and forth, gathering force. It seemed to gather the crowd as well – people swayed back and forth in rhythm, their excitement building along with the ram’s speed. They unleashed the engine with a violent rush and I hid behind my hands. A thunderclap braced the air as Hugh flew higher and faster and farther than before. The log shuddered to an astonished stop and many of the soldiers screamed and fell to the floor from an impact their joints weren’t designed to sustain. Hugh cut a trench through the field and he sank from view. Yet he hooted merrily and we knew that the ram had failed to hurt him again. Yet Conan frowned – I don’t think he expected Hugh to sail into the air, however unhurt he may be. Had he imagined an impossible spectacle? Had he hoped to insert Hugh between a ram and a besieged gate in the hopes of protecting the fortress with Hugh’s stronger build? Clearly that wouldn’t work. I looked at Geoff, who wore the same worried look as my master: an unhappy lord is more dangerous than any war engine. Yet I saw clearly what Conan overlooked: a ram’s force is transferred into the gate or wall, which cracks and weakens as that force flows through it. Hugh did not absorb that force – he repelled it. That’s why the shock surprised the soldiers and why the ram wobbled backwards. It was that repulsion, force being echoed away from Hugh, that propulsed him through the air. A gate made of such material would be impregnable. Hugh alone possessed such material. Again, I shivered, thinking of a living man who could harden himself beyond any other rock or metal in creation. A living man who let me touch him. Cheers and guffs of awe rose from the crowd as Hugh marched back to the frustrated machine, clods of soil falling off the harder bedrock of his back. Geoff rushed over, whispering urgently to him - Hugh smiled like the sun and nodded happily. The soldiers looked frightened. And this time, the ram was fully crowded with men. The crowd mirrored the swinging ram with their bodies, thrusting themselves forward and back in unwitting unison and urging some maximum test which could release their pent-up excitement. The huge log sliced through the air with a deepening WHOOOSH that beat fast and faster until the moment of its release: it sped forward and Hugh unexpectedly leaped at the iron head with his chest. The KKRRRAKKKKK! rang like a church bell breaking apart. Hugh dropped straight down while the entire engine bounce swiftly away from him, the men behind it jumping out of the way and the rowers flying off the sides. Hugh didn’t move. A frozen silence held the crowd until, as a single being, it raced forward. Hugh looked up and sucked in a mighty draught of air, shook his head and looked around, blinking. The crowd stopped, as if the living thing might become a dragon or griffin. A stunned look clouded his eyes – then they focused on the engine rolling to a slow stop, listed to the side where something broke, and all the men crawling away in pain. He remained crouching, catching his wind. Conan himself inspected the state of the ram. A split ran the entire length of the log – it slumped unevenly in its chain sling. Even more amazing, the top two “knuckles” of the fist had flattened slightly, deformed to the sides. “That’s solid iron,” Geoff said, mouth gaping. He turned back to Hugh. Some soldiers were helping him to his feet – he was so heavy it took three to a side and one in back, and they braced their legs jointly against him like buttresses until he steadied himself. He kept jerking his head, the death-knell of the fist still ringing. Geoff kept waving his fingers in front of Hugh’s eyes but the boy batted them gently away and said, in a firm voice I hadn’t heard him use before, “I’m done with having things run into me for a couple of days.” “The trebuchet is next,” Geoff said worriedly. “Shall I--” Hugh shook his head again with a sly grin. “I have different plans for it.” Geoff stepped back, momentarily alarmed by the forthright assurance Hugh now assumed. He walked around in circles, stretching and massaging his crimson chest. I pined to do it for him … and would have done, in front of everyone, had my master not sent me on an errand. His order felt like a dagger in my stomach. I ran quickly, gave a dispatch to a courier, and by the time I got back, the battered-ram had been trundled away and the trebuchet wheeled forward. Two men on each side grunted as they turned the wheels that ran the tackle and slowly raised the mass of iron-bound oak blocks into the air. Hugh wasted no time. “What are we going to do to this?” Conan asked eagerly. “You’ll see,” Hugh answered arrogantly - which seemed to excite Conan rather than offend him. Conan stepped back as Hugh walked behind it, put one foot on the arm resting on the ground, and signaled the drop. The weight crashed to the platform and Hugh roared like a bear as he bore down with his foot. A legging seam burst open, exposing a bovine thigh – and the pivot rod cracked. The entire beam smashed through the machine with an explosion of splinters. Hugh picked up the end and wrested it free, jostling and battering the entire machine. He placed the end of the arm across his shoulders behind his neck and, draping his outside arm over the top, raised the entire thing up parallel to the ground. Then he wrapped his other arm over it . . . snorted like a bull . . . and pulled. His back opened wide like angel wings, his stomach muscles meshed like the gears of the apparatus itself, and his arms filled every space with their compressed, pulsing meat. We heard him breathing heavily in the silence. Hugh’s face contorted in angry concentration, and his elbows dipped. The short length behind his neck actually bent, issuing a CREEEAAAK SNIK-SNIK-SNIK SNIK SNIK FRACCCKK! The heavy bar split open like a monster’s toothy maw. His outside arm pulled and then twisted the broken as Hugh broken bole until it tore away. He pulled more of the bar across his implacable back. One deep breath and again his face strained, pitting the obdurate ridges of his vein-studded neck. His arms too snaked with blue veins nearly tearing through his buttery red-splotched skin. The solid oak held out as long as it could until Hugh’s arms compelled it to shiver, quake and surrender. He kept going, snapping the bar into pieces without rest, his breathing hoarse, his tender boy’s face a mask of resolute destruction. By the time he fractured the last bit, his grimace bore a terrifying resemblance to some fairy-tale demon. Slivers and chips of wood dusted his hair and body from oak exploding under unbearable pressure. Beside him, a stack of logs ready for the fire. “Magnificent!” Conan declared, unable or unwilling to stop the gushing females who pawed his dauntless, bloated arms and reverently dusted splinters from the many crevices in his back and lodged in his hair. I got a tingling sensation in my groin that he’d tear the engine apart with his bare hands with so much admiration – and indeed, he jumped onto the counter-weight and, clinging to a cross-bar with his toes, grabbed an iron strap in each hand and pulled. The iron bent up a bit but stopped. Hugh jerked them hard and broke them free, happily bending them up and back. He dropped to the ground, dragging the tortured iron with him. Then, inspired, he dragged the freed lengths toward each other and began wrapping them around each other in a giant knot. Then he yanked two fresh sections loose, working the cold metal like it was toughened leather. Showing off, he held an arm rigid and folded the metal back over itself by simply turning his wrist, zig-zagging in with tight switchbacks. At the same time, his other arm rippled as it twisted the flat iron into a spiral. Conan coughed loudly and Hugh turned, glowing in the sun and gleaming with sweat. He had saved the most trying test for last. Hugh slugged down goblets of water and gnawed on some fragrant apples, which mixed a sweetness into his rapturous he-sweat as secretions from different body areas ran and mingling together. “In war, we have not time to rest, no time for refreshment,” Conan declared. “When our enemies lay siege to our cities and hurl boulders into our walls and through our houses, how shall we respond? I want to crush them – literally.” He turned to Hugh, his bony arm outstretched toward the sacred grove. “These standing stones have weathered every winter, every storm, since time immemorial. Centuries of raging wars have neither injured nor moved them. Some say they were planted in the time before men, by Titans or Giants. Some say only Druid magic could have raised and sunk them into the fields where they mystify us to this day. Surely no mortal men could have moved such behemoths. “Young Hugh, your task is to do what neither man nor nature has ever done before you. Uproot one of those ancient monuments so it may be used to smash our enemies and their war machines. You may choose your victim – but your choice will be noted.” Conan led the way; a crowd of men tried to raise and carry Hugh on their shoulders, but the ponderous hulk proved impossible to lift and manage, so they simply surged around him like a pack of hunting dogs. Hugh scooped up the nearest two damsels and carried them like bouquets of flowers in the crook of each arm. Their dainty hands tried to squeeze the unyielding marble of those arms, twisting their hips as they did so. None of our stones are as big as the ones up north, but the field still looks strikes me as a giants’ graveyard. Hugh naturally went to the largest one, shoulder-height but a little wider than he. I wondered which weighed more, and nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity – an absurdity only to someone who had never met Hugh. While Hugh walked around the stone, inspecting clefts and lichen, Conan whispered to Houel, “even if he can only loosen it, we should be able to pull it free with a team of oxen. And he could easily build a gigantic trebuchet to launch these stones. Perhaps even a conveyance to move to them.” I shuddered. Hugh carried the focused, appraising air of a land agent, factoring dimensions, materials and weights that hobbled the imagination. Without ceremony, he dug his feet in and fell upon the weathered stone, oppressing it with focused forces beyond anything nature herself could muster. After so many efforts, Hugh drew from a deep well of virility that seemed never to run dry. The crowd tensed along with him as we waited for the monolith to give. No one doubted it could outlast the onslaught of Hugh. Never relenting the pressure he built up, Hugh managed to slip his hands, his shoulders, his legs into different positions, seeking a stronger purchase, groping with his senses toward the spot already growing weak under his duress. Worrying the monument from every angle, wearing out its grip on the earth, Hugh bullied the half-buried boulder until he found the place where Creation would buckle beneath his will A breeze ruffled through the grass … but when it passed, the grass still shivered. “Look!” I pointed. As every eye turned away from the hero and toward the ground, it humped and split. The stone listed slightly into the breach and several people fainted along with it. Hugh didn’t let up but churched the ground behind him plowing into the monolith. A hump broke upward between his legs as Hugh silently commanded the monument to lie prostrate before him. Conan choked as the yawning field disgorged waves of loam displaced by the foot of the stone being impelled up into the light. Hugh stepped back for the first time, shaking his throbbing limbs so the muscles tossed back and forth like small animals. He spent a few seconds catching his breath, and the swung himself under the leaning side, grappled for a hold, and pulled with a heavy grunt. The earth vomited in distress as Hugh dragged the stone towards the level and mashed its face toward his feet. The menhir listed drunkenly now but something deep intruded on his progress and held the stone. Hugh vigorously tugged and wiggled the tonnage, breaking the obstruction and relinquishing its hold on the monolith once again. Hugh’s arms engorged in undulating ridges, spurs and peaks. His shoulders bulged nearly as big as his head, their carved fingers digging like claws onto his arms and back. His concave belly shifted right and left, directing dominance from his legs into his arms and rippling around his frame like wind-blown sheaves of wheat. Finally, with one crippling shove, Hugh wrenched the monolith free of the earth, crammed its face into the dirt as the entombed end blasted through in an eruption of soil and small rocks. When I shook the grit out of my eyes, I could barely believe what I saw – nearly as much had been buried as stuck up from the earth. It was twice as big as it had looked, the unearthed portion was dark and wet, with clumps of mud sticking to it like the lichen huddled all over the exposed half. Nearly twice as big as Hugh, it seemed impossible to move it any further, except – maybe – to roll it down a hill (were the ground not flat). Wasting no time, Hugh walked around the far side, knelt and reached one arm over the width of the fallen warrior of time. With a HUP and a HRRRGGGGHH, Hugh leaned backward, bending like a bow. His stomach clenched in sharp relief and long rods rippled in his extended forearm. The rock rose a few centimeters but then fell back into the turf. Undeterred, Hugh nearly bounced it back up into the air – but this time, the side closest to him slipped and fell. The fact that he could lift it at all froze everyone in a tableau of wonder. He wrapped his rock-strewn arms around it and pulled, his neck bulging and face purple, but only managed to lever it off the ground and shift it sideways a bit, farther away from its empty grave. He reached underneath and drove his legs down as he raised the end as far as his knees, kneading the ground to press an advantage – but again the weight proved too much, and he had to drop it. He called for water and wide-eyed, trembling girls brought him several bowls, along with fruit and a hunk of roasted beef. He gorged himself, allowing the girls to lick the grease off his fingers. He rubbed them against the surface of the stone, peeling off layer of flint and coating them with dust. He walked around to the middle and tried to raise it laterally – it hinged up half a metre or more before it slipped free. Hugh’s face clouded with annoyance and I feared his angry fist might turn it into more manageable pieces – but he redirected his impatience into his arms. Reaching one arm over the top, he grunted and craned it a metre into the air – several people experienced spasms of a certain kind – and held it teetering while he tried to shift the weight for the next stage. But the tonnage resisted his power and bobbed toward the earth. With a strangled scream, Hugh stopped it for a moment – held it – but had to let it go. Setting his feet farther apart, he heaved yet again, grappled the monolith higher, his lower arm bursting its skin as it braced the burden, dragged his shoulders back and, staggering once, wrestled it onto thighs – where it balanced, its immensity sinking him into the soil. Hugh took three breaths, rocking back and forth with each one, then leaned further back and levitated the stone onto his chest, tottering around as the menhir fought his dominance. He sidled to a halt and paused a moment, dwarfing mass trapped by his inexorable arms. His face screwed tight with strain, Hugh pressed the under arm up, its sinews bunching and trembling, while the arm over the top actually flipped the rock over – a move that almost went wrong, had his legs not danced and buttressed him to stop it. Then his legs began to shake violently and he sank beneath the stone which pressed against his face. The crowd burst with burbling concern that he might be smashed under the giant rock, his hubris leading to a predictable end – and I was afraid if it brought him to his knees, he’d but unable to continue. But … it didn’t. He didn’t kneel. He waddled toward stonier ground, looking like an ant carrying not a crumb but the entire loaf. Hugh’s knees began knocking as he fought to stand, the perfect globes of his ass quivering in time – but he worked his hands around to the underside even as he fought to discipline his rebelling limbs. Taking advantage of what inertia he’d created, Hugh wasted no time resting but pressed the rock above him – his body near parallel to the ground. Barking ferocious groans I could feel in my breastbone, he manipulated the granite giant up as he straightened his back and fought mightily against his own shaking arms. With hoarse, whistling war-cry, the god-man-boy straightened up and pressed the menhir up until his elbows locked and framed his terrible visage. He continued bellowing as he trapped the stone mountain in the air above him, mocking its desire to reunite with the earth. He lurched several steps before stopping at the end of the softer ground and sought Conan – rooting the Duke to the spot with his eyes. He stayed that way until Conan buckled at his hips and dropped his mouth in something like awe. With a snarl, Hugh then let it drop behind him and flexed his bloated arms until the cramping made him shake them out. Once more the crowd poured over him, massaging and rubbing him – a crush Hugh might not have been able to sustain had not circumstances turned against us. His sweet odor took on a pungeant manly stink, which the air caught and carried back into the forest. Before long, a grisly roar answered Hugh’s call from the forest. My master said to Geoff, “I thought you said Hugh had scared off all the predatory animals.” “He has,” Geoff replied. “There must be a migration.” “Bears don’t migrate,” Alain said, “And that was a very angry bear. Again, a mere whiff of Hugh’s scent has driven some beast to fury.” We got a first glimpse of the foaming, shambling beast, and Geoff said with restrained panic, “Not fury, but madness,” Geoff concluded. “That bear is mad. Its bite is deadly – even a scratch can afflict a man with madness.” People stampeded for the city walls once the bear blundered sideways out of the grove and shook deadly froth from its drooling maw. Despite being clearly spent, Hugh immediately strode to face the monster – and we all felt riveted by the same thoughts – if he were too exhausted, Hugh would be no match for the bear – killed or, worse, infected. A rabid Hugh could lay waste to the entire county. The afflicted are routinely strangled before the madness takes hold, but who, or what, could constrict Hugh’s throat? The archers ran back to the castle to fetch weapons but Hugh advanced alone. “No! Hugh, I forbid it!” Geoff ordered, but Hugh responded only to a higher calling, his fatigue replaced by renewed vigor. He ripped the shredded remains of his leggings and codpiece and tore away even his undercloth, one naked beast facing another. Women tried to turn away and close their eyes, but they had lost the will to resist the sight of Hugh's golden glory. Palming two large stones, he bounced their weight – likely as much as a strong man could struggle up to his chest – and then hurled first one, then the other, in quick succession, his arms like trebuchets – only more powerful. The bear fell, struck on the head and shoulder … but rose up on two legs, now truly angry. Slinging ropes of poisonous slobber across the field, it roared and fell clumsily to all fours, lighting into a lopsided charge on legs it seemed unable to fully control. As if it were under the spell of a sorcerer’s apprentice. Hugh ranged from side to side but the bear turned and faced him, always advancing. The hero crouched on titanic legs and launched himself into the air, rising for several metres and sailing over the bear like a bird of prey. The animal stood and swatted at him but Hugh flew too far and too fast, causing the unsteady creature to fall onto its back. As it struggled back to its feet, it turned so Hugh could leap and plant himself like a spear onto its vast shaggy back. Hugh tried to wrap his arms around the giant’s chest but could barely reach – his fingers touched but couldn’t grip. The bear roared and shook violently, but Hugh’s fingers pierced the dense fur and his legs clamped over its waist. Then Hugh shook back. Savagely throwing his body from side to side, Hugh forced the bear to stumble sideways several paces before it plant its claws and hold onto the ground. He shook the bear again but it lowered itself to the ground – so Hugh threw his shoulders back with a strained grimace. And overcoming the bear’s fury, bent its spine back and its forelegs off the ground. Hugh cinched his arms and legs – the bear bellowed in pain and confusion, outmuscled by something small yet heavy and brutally irresistible. Hugh shook the bear again until its head wove back and forth, and then he arched his back and slammed that head into the ground. A look appeared in the bear’s crazed eyes – a moment of clarity, a primitive instinct for escape. The beast fought against Hugh’s strength with the renewed energies of something now fighting for its life. As Hugh’s shoulders tensed, prying the bear’s up again, it fought him, bucking and shaking, matching him strength for strength. Feeling the iron spine defy him, Hugh squeezed until the bear screamed. Every move Hugh made in directing the bear one way, the bear countered, twisting and scratching the other way. Hugh’s face contorted as his arms labored against the sturdy ribs, his fingers grappling for a link. The bear writhed violently but Hugh closed his eyes and with a hissing sound, linked his middle fingers. The beast wore stark fear on its face, its chest compressed, its hips being wrench by the horrible contortions of Hugh’s legs. I held my breath – I couldn’t tell what Hugh was trying to do, besides hang on. Slowly, by pitching his back fiercely, Hugh guided the bear to the stone he had just conquered. His eyes sharpened frightfully, and with his teeth bared and an almost-evil smile, he arched his back again and clumped the bear forward with his own indomitable torso. With claws clutching helplessly at the soil, the bear realized – as much as it could – it was losing. When Hugh coerced his captive abreast of his trophy, he flexed his entire body, lifting the bear off the ground and slamming it back down. He did it again, and again, each time gaining a greater bounce until with clenched grunt, Hugh actually flipped himself onto his back on the stone’s surface, the quarter-tonne bulk pronged above him. The animal’s legs waved in the air but Hugh’s back spread out beneath him, bracing against each terrorized thrust of the mindless brute. The boy-man had even crushed its roar down to a steady wheezing moan frothed out with its spittle. Hugh’s legs trapped the bear’s hind limbs and pulled them out and away, immobilizing them. He arched up onto his shoulders and bent that iron spine – and squeezed. Hugh shook the bear to the left and clamped his hands more tightly to its chest. He jarred it to the right and a sickening pop came out of the bear’s lower quarters. The wheeze now carried a bone-chilling whine of fear. Hugh tensed ferociously trembling with impossible effort, bending the bear's steely ribs in on themselves. Hugh’s rising growls drowned out the animal’s eerie whistling. Now gripping his wrists, he shrank the bear’s chest further through barbaric will. His arms, buried deep in the fur, rubbed slightly back and forth: their knots, harder than bone, fractured ribs. He rattled the bear like a doll, draining the dregs of its vitality with relentless determination. Its swimming forelegs slowed, and slowed further, and then merely waved as if blown by the wind. Once the bear’s legs stopped moving (though still twitching), Hugh’s legs straightened out, further disjointing its hind legs and hips. The trapped victim emitted a thin, high wail, its tongue lolled out of its mouth, a harsh gurgling sound coming with it. Hugh could have finished the bear off right there, but something terrible had been ignited in the man-boy’s chest – and further below. Hugh rolled off the stone and plopped the weakened beast onto the ground. Arching his own back, Hugh brought his legs forward and clamped them against the stove-in ribs. Pulling the bear backward again and trapping its lower torso with his own, Hugh gyrated up, his ass dimpling and clenching, his manroot thrusting through the densely matted fur. It seemed to pulse with every sharp crack echoing through the circle. His eyes feverish, the shocking obscenity of the tableau held everyone in a merciless grip. Hugh wrangled his arms up, never releasing their unbearable pressures, hands reaching for the animal's head. Gripping the rocklike skull, Hugh's chest rose like twin peaks as he stopped the bear's thrashing. His hands crept down, his bulbous forearms immobilizing the bear's head. The entire crowd buzzed with tension that ratcheted higher as Hugh linked his hands underneath its head. With a grim frown, Hugh straightened back up, fighting the bear's final desperate spasms. With a final choking splutter, the bear’s head rose in Hugh's puissant grip, its long long neck tremoring. Stretching. Tearing. Hugh’s invincible lance jousted with the arched neck, his hips slowly digging up and down. But the bear's neck was too long - even with the skull pressed into the valley of his chest, the neck did not break. He'd either have to be work his way backwards ... or ... My knees gave way weakly as Hugh's sculpted arms sprouted veins along their extreme curves. Hugh pushed the head up in a harrowing repeat of his menhir feat. A thin shrill shriek bubbled out of the gaping maw, big eyes suddenly blank with a resignation more terrible than its death throes. Hugh's elbows inched up, his hands rising to stomach-curdling wet PWOPP sounds. Hugh stretched the neck unnaturally longer even as the bear's tongue seemed to crawl out of its throat. Blood sprayed from tears in the victim’s hide, the skin rending in garish jagged slashes. Hugh grimaced as he grappled the bear's body down – down and away. Hugh pushed his arms towards the sky with renewed gristle. Through the ragged flaps of skin, I could see thick cables of muscle stretching and then rolling up into tight knots. Soon I could see the white bones floating like beads on a broken chain washed in red. His virile member erupted, spewing ropes of viscous pearlescence through the hot fur and into the ragged wounds. His legs gripped the body firmly, riding it with bucking hips and plowing himself violently against the dying beast. Finally, with a triumphant bellow that shook the stones themselves, Hugh extended his arms all the way up and sheared the bear's head off its jerking, dying torso. The torn neck fountained blood, mired with Hugh's own jetting essence streaming up through the coat like grappling ropes. Hugh’s seed-fountain continued even as the blood slowly ebbed, soaking the coat in his milky pith. He shuddered, his naked muscles rippling and drumming fleetly beneath his papery white skin, and making a final grunting cry, Hugh stubbed himself out in eye-flickering bliss. Hugh paused a moment, chest heaving with deep satisfaction, until the echoing pleasures slowly Faded. Shaking sense and awareness back into his golden-curled, blood and semen-caked head, carried the still-lethal skull, dripping blood and froth of Hugh, to the gaping pit that once housed a menhir, and dropped it in. He went back to the corpse, grabbed a loose hind-leg, and pulled it over to the grave, kicking it in. Then, in desperation or derision, I couldn’t tell, Hugh tugged the stone, bit by exhausted bit, until its immeasurable tonnes covered the tomb. Hugh turned and raised his fists over his head, his heavy arms bent and throbbing like the empurpled mast rising above his navel, shaking its own glistening fist. But only briefly - he sank down, hands on his knees his shoulders sinking and his back sagging. Then he was lost as cheering soldiers surrounded him and, in a joint effort, raised him to his feet and half-carried him away from the slung saliva and gore, to a grassy rise shaded by the setting sun. The women broke through the soldiers with kettles and bowls of cool and steaming water, shouldering them away like an invading army. Over their heads I heard him mutter “meat,” and platters passed hand to hand from the high table directly to him. Sating himself, he fell into a deep slumber, oblivious of the hands massaging oils into his muscles. Soon the jealous guards rallied and drove the women away, circling him and facing out to keep so many hungry eyes and hands at bay. Geoff had excused Hugh from the rest of his chores that afternoon, so after I finished mine and got something to eat, I returned to his pallet. He was fast asleep on his back, lying flat on his back with only a modest cloth around his loins. The air near him shimmered torridly, and sweat beaded on my forehead and under my arms. I quickly doffed my togs and draped myself over his mounded form. He stirred slightly, his barrel chest rising, but otherwise I may as well have been a light blanket. Arousal chases my fatigue away, and take advantage of last night’s offer and stretch my limbs, pressing my body against his muscles – firm yet pliable at rest, their density defied my penetrating fingers, but I could press and caress them, trace the expansive flesh as it narrows and gathers into steely tendons. His blood pulsed slowly through them, perfectly balancing his other humors and restoring his incalculable vitality. My own loin covering stirred as I rubbed against the serpent sleeping between the pillows of its generative nest. The serpent rose slightly, stirring waves through Hugh’s body which undulated and stretched in sleep. His mouth pursed and opened slightly and, overcome with desire, I gripped his upper arms and slid myself up onto his chest. My own member lay erect in the alley that ran down the center of his cobbled abdomen – it fit perfectly, caressed and massaged as those muscles rose and fell as he breathed. From the barrel-crest of his chest, I reached down and placed a daring kiss on his thick, languid lips. Still asleep, his mouth accepted mine, rubbing against my lips. I nuzzled the down around his chin and let my tongue slip out, seeking his. His tongue also sought mine and they caressed one another and explored each other’s hot, wet den. My own drool flowed strongly, lubricating our fun, and a distant, dreamy smile invited me to display greater passion. I sucked his lips and licked his teeth, and when I felt his hands land lightly on my ass, I shuddered in anticipation and a little fear: if he rolled over and didn’t wake up, could I support his weight or would I be crushed or suffocated by Hugh’s ponderous magnitude? I stretched my arms over his and wrapped my legs over his thighs, encouraging him to stay put but offering my nether orifice for his rising python. He gripped me tighter, so tightly I winced and bit his lip by mistake – his eyes opened drowsily and for a moment, we gazed at each other with his hands clasping hindside. Just then a sharp laugh startled us both (and several of the horses). Hugh raised his head as I turned and saw a buxom young maid with a startled look on her face. “You boys are incorrigible!” she said a little loudly. Hugh rose up on his elbows and sloughed me off to the side, where I adjusted my loin cloth and blazed bright red. She paid me no mind. “All rested, hero?” she said saucily, tugging coyly at the lace that held her bodice together. “How would you like a real woman to satisfy you. I promise it’ll be better than some smelly bear.” She spread her knees and pressed a palm into her skirt with an open mouth. Heat kindled in Hugh’s eyes and his groin snake bobbed up through the folds of his cloth. She walked backward toward a stack of hay bales in the shadows. Forgetting me, Hugh rose – like a mountain growing before my eyes, or a dragon taking off from its lair, his body simply kept going and going and going until he was up and around the corner. But Hugh stopped short, looking uncertain. “Come on,” she cooed. “No one will care. You’re a man now. You do what you want.” Hugh fidgeted against the cloth restraint binding his eagerness. “My master said I would grow weak if I did it. I don’t even, you know, do myself. Not as often as other boys.” “You’re no boy, and no man is your master,” she chided. “Not even the king can rival you. Besides, we all saw what you did to that bear. Are you weak now?” She threw a horseshoe, which he caught. Spreading the fingers of that one hand around the prongs but not taking his eyes off her, Hugh squeezed – and crushed the metal shoe as if it were clay, until it snapped in two. Yet he didn’t let it go – gathering both parts into his palm, he folded them in half – both at the same time – until the outmatched steel could bend no further and broke again. His clenched the pieces in his fist and mashed it again, his forearm filling with rocks that scrubbed against each other. A metallic tinkling seeped out between his white-knuckled fingers. When he opened his fist, shattered fragments of steel rained to the floor, unidentifiable as having ever been a forged horse shoe. “Guess not,” he replied with sheepish excitement. The maid had watched wide-eyed, bosom heaving and mouth opening and semi-closing in excitement of her own. Though she massaged both her breasts and released them, she stiffened and shivered as if fulfillment had ignited without any external stimulation. Her eyes hooded with breathless hunger. “Then, what are you waiting for?” she half-dared, half-begged him huskily. That was it. His loin cloth ripped around his vibrant erection has he flung it away and pulled her to him, immediately entering her. She gasped as his girth stretched her open more than ever before, but he didn’t rush to the finish line. Hugh’s natural instinct for lovemaking took over – building, teasing, pulling back, slowing down then racing, all the while withholding his essence. His manfunk wafted through the stable with a delirious mixture of wild musk and protective warmth. Her eyes rolled up into her head – however vigorously he slid in and out, he was gentler, more controlled – stronger – than any man she’d been with. And … he made her wetter than ever before. Mixed with the leakage from his powerful organ, they slid against each other like eels. She clutched at the hay behind her, her nipples like craters as another pleasure wave washed through her. Again, instinctively, Hugh let her subside and then whipped her up until the storm broke in her several times before he unleashed his own deluge. Hugh’s arm shot out and grabbed a shovel, the blade warping in his grip. He shot into her with such force she instantly came again, biting her lip to stay quiet. His ass dimpled and writhed for so long I realized I would get no sleep tonight – perhaps never again. My own midsection rocked as I spurted in envious sympathy. I massaged myself dry with my under cloth and was about to return to the pallet, when I saw it – he wasn’t pulling out. He was clearly still turgid. Still filling her. Still thrusting. She smiled hungrily, grabbing his ass and pulling herself against him. He slammed into her hard this time, again and again, jiggling her breasts and body, shattering her composure and driving her to wild abandon. She thrashed and ground herself against in rhythm against him, whipping her loosened hair from side to side and moaning gutterally like a cow in calving. In full control and awareness of their danger, Hugh smoothly grabbed a leather work glove and gently shoved it into her mouth. She chewed it like it was dinner. He came again, dimpling longer than before but sluicing in and out and spilling long tendrils of cock drool. I stayed crouching, hardening again and barely aware of the pain. And as I suspected, he didn’t quit. More like he was still getting warmed up. But the maid began to flag, endless pleasure addling her brain. She shuddered periodically, ranging between an empty smile and a tense incomprehension that only Hugh’s persistence could dismiss. Her sopping hair lay lank over her shoulders, her breathing hitching from his power and then siking into a heavy, coarse wheeze. He came a fourth time and she moaned in mindless pleasure and pain. His seed spurted down and ricocheted off his pendulous ball sac … as if she were full. For the first time, he pulled out completely, his knob painted her belly and breasts with his man-lime. A steady stream ran down her legs slowly, like freshly-rendered glue. His sword waved challengingly, throbbing with purple ardor. His exhales came fast and heavy and his red eyes burned with feverish intensity. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do but then, face enlivening, he lifted her into the air, spun her around and did what I had so longed for: took her bunghole like a rutting beast. The pain shocked her awake and she screamed into the glove. Her torso impulsively clenched around him but hadn’t the strength to expel the invader. Sliding her up and down on his breed shaft with one hand, he pulled out the glove stuck his fingers in her mouth, attacking her defenses on two fronts. Her panic retreated and as they joined into a single oscillating being, his body commanded hers to banish pain and feed greedily on pleasure alone. Obediently, her body obeyed and her tension fell away like the tattered remnants of her clothing. He bobbed her up and down endlessly before clenching his ass and releasing another eruption of manly lava. Feeling his own control fight for command against greedy, voluptuous gluttony, he wrapped one arm around a stud and squeezed. His arm crunched into the wood – splinters broke out around it. He squeezed pitilessly as the ecstasy of another tidal wave rolled out of him and utterly submerged her. Solid oak creaked and split loudly. Finally he eased down, left the poor oak post alone, and rested his back against a high stack of hay, holding her up with one hand and simply staying still. But staying within her. Not softening. Not at all. The crippled beam groaned as the weight of the roof shifted into its weakness. The groaning excited Hugh and he slowly began plumbing her for a sixth time. Something broke in my mind – a relaxation, an acceptance of such unbelievable strength and stamina. A kind of faith moved my heart that I never felt at mass. My body responded by releasing another white libation, globs of it billowing forth before the ecstacy could catch up – it rushed in late and quaked me to my soul, submitting my life to this thundering, earth-shaking deity before me. Hugh focused intently on her, careful not to bruise or injure her as he ground her back and forth in semi-circles. Her limbs flopped randomly, their motions aimless and simply sparking off stray bolts of joy her weaker frame could not contain. She shuddered again as another convulsion gripped her, and her seizure gripped him and undammed yet another flood of his virility into her guts. Not only the stream down her legs increase, now from two willsprings within her, but her belly began to bloat. Hugh looked as though this premature release – stimulated by her and not commanded by him – had cheated him. He stayed in and bucked her a little roughly, making her jaw chatter loosely, until he pasted her insides a seventh time. Ignoring how her rib cage expanded in his grip, Hugh plunged deeper with an urgency he hadn’t shown before. His bull-balls slapped the back of her ass as he chased the shimmering bliss he caught so easily again and again. His back stiffened and spread apart and the overflow of another cascade splattered his nutsack and thighs. Her eyes opened with bemused surprise as she belched and … smelled Hugh in it. The maid passed out completely and slumped on him, twitching and jerking like a dreaming dog. His face glowing with greed for a vein of gold that ran deeper and deeper into the mountain, he kept excavating for it. A series of short hard rams made her burp his salty musk, made her breasts flop along with her arms and nodding head. The hammering sped faster and faster until his cheeks became a blur. Then suddenly he stopped and mashed her down as if he were trying to snap his manhood off. But that prong stood up to him defiantly and rebuffed his efforts. Within the frenzy of his ninth fusillade, a heavenly smile pierced his face like a sunbeam after a storm eliciting a heavenly smile to spread across his face. The sun banished the storm and he slowed down to a steady strum. Pinning her against a wall of hay with only his horn of plenty, he put his hands on his hips and wiggled them, watching her bob like a puppet. Hugh didn’t like her leaving him alone like that - so he leaned forward, placing one fist on either side of the hay beside, and supported her with It while staring intently into her face. His presence penetrated her dazed mind and dragged her back to consciousness – while he stayed still, spreading and pulsing with her, her own grinding movement down below betrayed her return to paradise. He began slow rotations, lazy figure eights that hardened him until his balls hitched. Then, again, he became … perfectly … still…. But she shook with warring tensions and seized with unhinged rapture. He grinned with masterly hauteur and withheld himself until she scratched violently at him and seemed she’d shake herself apart if he did not feed her. Still he waited until her panting desperation opened her eyes – he locked them to his – and she seemed to wither and bloom at the same time within his gaze, her mind turning inside out beneath the fullness of his revelation. Still he waited. Still he grinned. Finally, drool spilled in rivulets out of her mouth, followed by a plaintive mewling bordering on despair. He nodded, slowly, over and over as he felt her identity disintegrate – and then he released the hounds of war. Her chest inflated from the inside, a strangled cry of incredulous surrender rose from her gaping mouth, and her breath, redolent of his salt, filled the air and made the horses rustle and neigh. His own fecund odor returning to him from inside her kept his demonic prick sharp as he tunneled even deeper into the mountain for that skein of gold. His muscles flinched - he had ridden himself raw – and now every motion exploded in his brain. A mere normal man would pull away, flee, his brain melting. But Hugh was made better. He carried her gingerly to a worktable, sweeping clean its surface with his arm, and laid her down. He stood upright so that the pressure bore down on his virility, and though it bounced her up a little, it soon settled down. Standing there, hands on his hips, his massive chest rising and sinking like storm billows on the open see, he defied every extreme sensation – he refused to withdraw, he would not pass out. Hugh willed every impulse into submission, and wrung the savor out of each moment. They could not gang up on him. They could not overcome his control. His chest rolled triumphantly as he disciplined his own rebellious passions and directed them to serve him one more time. The lightning from this battle shot into her. She twitched wildly, arms and legs spasming and battering his ram inside her. He conducted the unbearable pleasures until he chose to let them go. Throwing his head back, he barked and howled, reached up and grabbed a roof joist: and each time her leg kicked or her hand flicked, his fingers sank deeper into the splintering oak. He swayed there, his head shaking slowly back and forth and veins pounding in his neck. With a moan of pure satisfaction, his shoulders twitched and his hips swiped her back and forth across the table. He froze and braced his legs and ass. An eleventh milking surged into the maid. Her body swelled, her neck fattened – and his puissance gushed out of her moaning mouth in driving bursts. My body wrenched a third helpless time together with gripping alarm. I felt immobilized but somehow I shouted, “Sir!” as his seed trickled out of her nose and not only from her ears, but also her eyes, like pearly tears. Hugh’s eyes whipped open and he turned and glared in mad fury. I fell back, my cock now heaving drily, and mustered all my courage. “She needs a doctor!” He looked back and for the first time saw the swollen main, his viscous ichor still seeping from her head. He pulled out suddenly and a bucket’s worth of slime whooshed out and all over his legs. He lifted her in one arm and, with the other, battered a hole in the side of the stable. He ran into the village, naked and not only erect but still foaming like … like a mad bear. He woke the doctor by breaking his door in half. The doctor clutched his blanket in terror, then saw the girl and jumped up so Hugh could place her on the bed. Though he was no longer in her, the overflow continued to leak out, spreading slowly over her body. All the time, though her eyes fluttered pure white, the smile never left her lips. The doctor pushed gently on her belly and semen oozed from several openings at both ends. He turned around and, seeing Hugh’s still-drooling plowshare, started in amazement before recovering himself. “Young man, I’ll take it from here.” Tears stained Hugh’s beautiful features. “I didn’t mean to … will she be all right?” “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the old man confessed. “So long as nothing inside her has burst, she should pull through. Though I doubt she’ll ever be the same. You should prepare yourself however: I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a father, several times over. Such prodigious … vigor … might likely plant a prodigy of seedlings in this young girl.” Turning away, he muttered again, “Like an Irish rabbit.” Hugh seemed stricken so I gripped his unyielding arm tight as I could. “Come, you should rest again. And I can’t carry you if you fall asleep stark naked in the street.” Hugh shuffled out and embarrassedly propped the shattered boards door back in the doorway. Overcome with a surge of relief or joy or something, he grabbed and lifted me high into the air, shook me wildly with an ecstatic grin on his face, and draped me over his shoulder like a potato sack. I could feel the slimy slap of his dick against my feet as he trotted down the moonlit street. My hands explored the battlements of his back under the guise of holding on: the central pennant-poles, the squarish berms of annealed flesh over each shoulder blade, and the ramparts that spread to either side. The feeling his shoulder rippling back and forth against my belly made me come again but, having nothing left, it hurt more than anything. I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Back in the stable reeking of fornication, he flung me onto his pallet and stared down proudly. “My friend!” he said, beaming, chest flaring. Then, treating me more like a pet than a friend, he lay down beside me, enclosed me with his irresistible arm-mass and tucked my face into the deep pit of foggy musk between his chest and back. He fell to sleep immediately but my heart raced like a hunting hound. His bushy hairs tickled my forehead and soon his peace encompassed me. I dreamed I was running beside him and wagging my tale forever and ever. THE END
  7. pb28wsx

    Mirror Muscle

    A guy posts a photo online after a workout. There is no other word to describe it: he is jacked. The large veins running down the middle of his biceps are engorged from pumping blood to his swollen arms; the thick blocks of his abdominal muscles cast deep shadows. But most interesting is his expression: he looks dissatisfied, troubled even. His eyes portray an insight into his mind. He doesn't think he is big enough. He has gone past the point where it is clear that he works out. He has even gone past the point where people think he is overdoing it, when in private his family question whether he is taking things a little bit too far. After the photo was taken, he will go home and scrutinise himself in the mirror. Dissatisified with what he sees, he picks up his trusty dumbbells and pushes his tired and sore muscles further still. The arms swell and peak, then tremble with effort. He switches to a lighter weight and whimpers with the effort, like a wounded animal. He catches sight of his own pained, desperate reflection in the mirror. He has a moment of self-realisation, and knows his obsession is dominating his life. But this only makes him focus harder on his trembling arms. When they can take no more, he resorts to flexing them hard, willing them to grow bigger, until even that is too much effort. He can't pinpoint a single point when his desire - his need - to be bigger began. It may have been the time when a bigger kid at school pushed him out of the way on the football pitch and left him humiliated. The bigger kid scarcely noticed, and neither did the other boys around. But that feeling of inferiority, of being dominated by another guy, really got to him. It was incidents like that which he channeled into his workouts. He sometimes thought that if the bigger guy saw him now, he wouldn't recognise the little guy he had pushed out of the way. But he didn't want to be bigger, he wanted to be invincible. He channeled that desire for muscle into every rep of every workout. The physique in the mirror showed what was happening in his head. He was taking things to the extreme. He was starting to look like a freak - and he liked it.
  8. Hope U R all having and are going 2 have a very Merry Christmas..? Heres the last 3 chapters of my festive mg story.. Part 3 Jacob awoke groggily to find himself hanging upside down. For a moment he was too dazed to know what had happened. Then, as his faculties cleared, he was sharply brought back to reality.. He had been in a car accident. The car had landed on its roof and Jacob was upside down in the car and still buckled into his seatbelt,which had almost certainly had saved him from being catapulted out of the the car through the shattered and now missing windscreen. He turned to look at the driver, the guy who had given in to giving him a lift. Daniel was also still hung in his seatbelt upside down, but he seemed unconscious.. Blood trickled from a deep cut on his head closest to his door and the roof on his side had caved in considerably,squashing the door,blocking access. Jacobs first instinct was to unlock his seatbelt to try to attend to Daniels potentially life-threatening wounds. When he managed to free himself he slumped with a thud onto his upper neck and shoulders and suddenly cried out in agony as a sharp pain ran through his right shoulder. Jacob tentatively propped himself up the right way,wincing as he felt more sharp pain through what could have been a dislocated shoulder or even a fracture to his collar bone. This was'nt the place to diagnose injuries just yet. The ice cold wind was blowing the snow stingingly through the broken windows as Jacob focused himself into extracating Daniel from his seat and getting help.. He fumbled to release Daniels seatbelt and eased the older guy from the drivers seat as best as he could.Daniel groaned and stirred slightly as it seemed evident he was drifting in and out of consciousness.Jacob gritted his teeth,trying to use a quick burst of strength to cut out his own pain as he hauled Dan from his seat and through the smashed passenger window.''Don't worry buddy.. Gonna get you some help. You''ll be good in no time''. Now outside of the vehicle for the first time Jacob tried to get his bearings in his winter cloaked surroundings.The car had come to rest on its roof down a sharp slope against a tree, having turned over several times down the steep incline. Jacob could hardly see too far,such was the aggressiveness of the wind blowing the falling snow into a near horizontal sheets of icicles that stung at Jacobs face. This weather was beginning to turn into a blizzard. Jacob swung his hood over his face and then hauled out his bag and used it as a pillow to prop up Daniels head,and covering his face with his own scarf,trying to use the car as much as possible as shelter from the howling white-out.With a bit more digging,Jacob had found in the trunk,Daniels packed bags and pulled out another coat and another scarf. He covered Daniel and used the scarf as best as he could to tend to the nasty cut on Daniels temple. It seemed as if Daniels head had hit the side of his drivers door as it caved in during the cars roll down the slope and Jacob could'nt tell just how bad Dans head injury was.. He needed medical help immediately. Jacob tried his phone but there was no signal. Cursing,he nearly threw it in anger into the nearby snow but thought better of it and shoved it back into his coat pocket.Looking up through the near blinding snow, he thought about clambering up onto the road to call for help from a passing motorist.. ''Hey buddy..be right back.. You just hang in there..'' Jacob snapped off a thick bare branch from part of the tree that had fallen of in the impact of the car against it, and using it as a prop,he tried to scramble up through the deepening snow to the edge of the road.Tired and aching from the pain in his shoulder,he reached the top and stumbled into the road.For as much minutes as he dared spare leaving Dan, he stamped up and down the road calling for help and waiting anxiously for a car to come by.Finally frustrated, he slid back down to the car and to Daniel and lightly tapped him on his cheek.''Hey buddy.. You still with me..?''Daniel groaned and moved his head slightly,and muttered. ''Jeff..?''In Dans semi-conscious state,he could see Jeff looking down and smiling at him.. Jacob was at least this bit relieved that Dan was still holding on,but he still needed help.. He shouted at the top of his lungs for help..And for a few minutes all he could hear was the howling of the wind and the crwaking of the trees. He gritted his teeth in anger.''Not like this.. Not fucking like this..''He did'nt want to end up frozen to death in the wilderness,..like Jack Nicholson freezing in the Maze at the end of The Shining..! Suddenly,the wind seemed to die down just that slightly for Jacob to hear what sounded faitnly like bells jingling.This first sign that someone,..anyone, could be out in this white-out could potentially mean survival. Spurred on,he jumped to his feet and tried to focus his ears and eyes on the sound..Then,..through the snowfall he could see a misty image that gradually became clearer as it drew nearer.''Hey..over here...Help..Help.!'' A shape of a sleigh drawing through the snow greeted Jacob.. It was drawn by a single reindeer,harnessed in leather that was adorned with the bells Jacob thought he had heard.On the back and guiding the sleigh was a figure wrapped in a thick tawny brown fur or fur-like coat..a hood lined with grey-white fur or wool drawn over his head and hiding his face, and his trousers of similar tawn colour and fur. Even his boots seemed thick and woolen..Like this fella was used to the outdoors life in harsh wilderness. The sleigh pulled up close to the crashed car. ''Whoah there Blitzen..Good boy'' the stranger said apparently to his reindeer as if it was a pet. Jacob for a moment was rightfully overjoyed that help had arrived.''Hey mister, my friend needs help.. We crashed and now i think hes badly hurt.. We need to get him to a hospital fast..!'' The hooded stranger stepped off the sleigh,..itself covered in furs and a deep red woolen cover, and trudged through the snow over to where Daniel lay prone. He bent down and slipped his hand out of the thick brown gloves he wore and gently touched at Daniels wounds.The,turning to look up at Jacob, he slipped off the hood he was wearing to reveal the face of an old man who looked wizened with age.He had a thick white beard and wispy white eyebrows and a weathered and slightly reddened face that overall, to Jacob he seemed to look so calming and warm.''My boy,I'm afraid that this snowstorm has downed communications and getting him any help up here might take some time. The weather will close in as soon it will be nightfall...'' ''But you gotta do something..He could die for Christs sake..!'' Jacobs moment of glee faded somewhat. ''My cabin is nearby.. It has a welcoming fireplace,some needed warmth..and i have a gift at helping those in need.. Don't worry my boy.I will take care of him..Of both of you till the morning breaks..'' Why was it for some reason that Jacob felt at ease with this guy..? ''Come boy, lets help your friend onto my sleigh..'' Jacob helped the stranger load Daniel onto the sleigh and wrapped him in the furs and the red cover. ''On Blitzen..'' And with that command the sleigh set off through the snow. Part 4 The snow was falling heavily by the the time the old Outdoorsmans sleigh, carrying Daniels prone body, had reached his cabin deep in the pine forest.''Come help me take your friend inside'' prompted the old man to Jacob who for a moment stood dithering.. Together they propped up the board Daniel lay on and carried him into the cabin..''We'll put him on the couch by the fireplace to keep him warm as he recovers..'' said the old man as he nudged the wooden door open and nodded in the direction of a wood framed low couch cushioned with soft woolen pillows and earthen coloured woolen blankets that was placed in front a large stone set fireplace with a high mantlepiece and several thick logs already burning welcomingly in the wide fireplace. The old outdoorsman and Jacob carefully lay Daniel down on the couch and covered him with the woolen blankets..''Do you have a phone in the cabin so we can at least try and call for some rescue.. Daniel might have some kind of bad head injury.?'' saidJacob as he scanned the large interior of the cabin looking for any sign for a link to communications to the nearest town. He could not readily seen any.The kindly old man spoke up ''I'm afraid with this blizzard howling,it may not be till morning until we can seek help for your friend here..". He stood up after making Daniel as comfortable as possible. He could see the worry in Jacobs handsome face.''Don't be worried. I'm certain that he will pull through with my help. I have, lets say, a certain magic about me that may aid my tending of his wounds that i know are not as grave as you fear..'' Jacob fidgeted uncomfortably over Daniel. ''How can you be so sure..?'' ''Oh don't worry..I have a had plenty of time on this earth to gather some good enough medicinal knowledge.....a few centuries at least..!'' said Nick as he headed away through an adjoining door to another room,but hesitated before passing through to glance back at the boy "Oh,my name is Nicholas by the way.." Jacob did'nt click to Nicholas' last few words.he just shuffled slightly,answering his and Daniels name clearly distracted with worry,to pay attention fully to what Nicholas had just said. Finally relaxing a little,his eyes had wandered off Dan for once as he looked around the cabin,noticing boughs of evergreen holly spotted with ruby red berries,and trails of cut Ivy and Fir branches hanging along the inner eaves or hooked onto the pine log walls. The cabin itself felt welcoming with its natural light wood furnishings and plaid red and green textiles and curtains,a plush fur-like rug positioned between the caramel upholstered three-piece suite placed around a low oak trunk coffee table...In all, a traditional family cabin in the forest.. Dan stirred and groaned,drawing back Jacobs attention, just as Nick returned from the kitchen with a red cloth draped over his shoulder,carrying a tray with a clay bowl full of steaming liquid and what looked to be a clay mortar and pestle to which he set down on a small stool next to Daniel. ''Whats that..?'' queried Jacob, as Nick dampened the cloth in the warm water,the steam wafting up to Jacob and the smell reminded him of spices.. ''Oh, its a remedy that will fix any injuries he might have taken to his head..'' Nick dabbed the cloth over Daniels forehead,then folded it it and lay it like a cold cure remedy across his forehead,propping Dans head up on a pillow.. Dan responded with a groan in his semi-conscious state. ''You think that some kind of homeopathic medicines like this can cure him of a brain injury, just like that..?'' said Jacob finding Nicks simple home medicinal deeds a little incredulous.. 'Nick just smiled ''Have faith my friend''. Jacob watched with uncertainty as Nick pulled out a small cloth bag tied with string from his inside pocket,unfastened the string and gently poured the powdery contents into the 'pestle'..cup and then poured a little of the bowls liquid into it,grinding and stirring it up with the mortar.. For a moment,Jacob thought he could see the powder glitter like stardust but shook his head. Nick gently lifted Daniels head and eased the cup to his lips,trying to stir him enough into a moment of consciousness for him to drink the contents.''Come on buddy, drink up...come on,...this will make you feel better'' Daniel weakly opened his mouth and took several slow sips of the water before Nick rested his head back. Jacob glanced out of the window hoping the snow had lessened. It had'nt one bit.. But through the blizzard,towards the shelter where Nick had placed his Reindeer,he could see another one nuzzling against Blitzen,and for a brief moment he thought he could see a faint red glow near its nose. 'Fuck,...i must be tripping.!' he thought, rubbing his eyes before looking out and now just seeing two ordinary Reindeer in the shelter. When he turned around,Jacob nearly jumped out of his skin.. Nick was standing right next to him,smiling..''I have given your friend a something to help him heal,not just his physical wounds but the wounds to his emotions as well..A little sleep will help him out'' He followed Jacobs gaze out the window across to the the deer shelter.''Oh thats just Rudy,..he helps me find my way on certain foggy nights.'' Jacob suddenly remembered Nicks comments about 'centuries of experience..!' ,and a thought came across his mind.'No, thats just rediculous..'' he said as he shook the thought out of his head.Nick just smiled at him as he let Jacob realise just who he was..''No..no, this is just too stupid.. You can't be...'' Jacob was placing the small things together.. A jolly,white bearded old fellow called Nick,in a sleigh drawn by a Reindeer called Blitzen,..and another called Rudy...RUDOLPH..!'' Then as the realisation dawned on just who he was speaking to, Jacob stumbled back,almost tripping over the armrest of the couch Dan now lay asleep.. ''You can't be him..!'' he said,wide-eyed. Nicks face seemed suddenly radiant and his eyes all twinkly in the light of the roaring fire. ''Who would you call me..?'' ''Santa Claus..!'' said Jacob,mouth agape like a catfish. ''Santa,Father Christmas,Pere Noel,Kris Kringle...St,Nicholas..whatevers suited best..!'' said Nick.. ''What are you doing way out here in the forest..?'' said Jacob,trying to find some kind of rational answer for this amazing situation. ''Christmas Eve is not for a few days. Even i'm entitled to a little R&R..!'' ''But if you are such a magical being,then why can't you just make this storm stop and whisk us on your flying sleigh off to the nearest town..?''Jacob said,sobering up to this strange reality. ''Its not as simple as that..I do'nt really control the weather..Why'd you think i'd ask a Reindeer with his 'nose so bright' to guide my sleigh on foggy nights..?'' They both glanced out of the window across to the deer shelter where Rudys nose was now shining brightly red..affirming the unbelievable situation Jacob was now in.. ''I'm just as stuck here til morning as you,my young friend.'' And,reading Jacobs face he added before the boy said anything. ''..And though i can heal people of most wounds, i cannot heal them just like that..'' Nick emphasised the last word by clicking his fingers..''Healing someone takes a lot of my energy..'' Jacob started pacing up and down. ''This is just too freaky..!'' Nicholas moved to stop Jacobs pacing by gently holding onto his arm. ''..But there is something i can do for you both..'' Jacob glanced down at Daniel then at Nicholas. ''What..?'' '' I know your heart is heavy with the lack of love and companionship. You have felt betrayed by those you thought loved you dearly. But if he finds it in his own heart to love again,you will find him a dear and committed partner..'' Nicholas glanced down at Daniel and Jacob knew.. ''But we have only just met.. And this guy is dealing with the grief of losing someone he loved.. What am i to him..?'' ''You can be the one to make him feel love again,to heal that sorrow.'' Feeling a little awkward, Jacob spoke what was on his mind..''But he is not really my type of guy..'' ''Oh,but once he finds his way,he will become 'your type'.. But love is not all based upon looks..Its whats in the heart.'' Jacob smiled. ''I stopped believing in you a long time ago. In my childhood i did not havethe greatest of times at Christmas..'' ''I know Jacob. When you stopped believing,there was no room for me..And for my part i was foolish to neglect you.. If there is a gift i could bestow upon you i will gladly offer it..?'' ''Well, theres one thing i've wanted.. What i've been training to become..''Jacob said furtively. Nicholas smiled knowingly..''You are training to become a top class bodybuilder. Bigger muscles...hmmm, not a gift i've often if ever granted, but,lets give it a try....'' On A Cold Winters Night : A Christmas Tale. Part 5 Daniel eyes were closed but yet he could see bright light through his lids..With a stretch of his body and a yawn he stirred into consciousness,slowly opening his eyes,and at first unaccustomed to such bright sunlight which greeted him.. Although his hearing was the first sense that kicked in... to the sounds of birds chirupping somewhere close by.When his sight finally cleared he took in his surroundings.He was laying on green grass beneath a huge old English Oak tree,feeling a gentle warm breeze blow across his exposed chest,..which soon sharpened his senses when he realised he was lying almost naked except for a pair of sky blue boxers. As he sat up he became aware of someone else sitting just behind him.Looking around at first he could not see the person,such was the brightness of the sun behind him,but as he let his eyes focus,when he saw just who was beside him his face went ashen white and his jaw fell agape.. ''Ah, Danny-boy, enjoy your little siesta..'' There,looking back at him with a radiant smile was Jeff,shirtless and revealing a smooth slender gym-toned torso.. With the bright sun haloed directly behind his head he looked like an Angel..! Daniels heart lept into his mouth and he felt like a dam was gonna burst full of tears. ''Jeff,but but...'' Daniel began to stutter,reeling with mixed feelings and emotions,hoping what he was seeing was'nt just a figment of his imagination.. Jeff quietly shushed him with a finger against Daniels lips,one hand holding a glass of champagne from a picnic laid out before them. ''Come now Daniel, my love...'' but Jeff could'nt finish... Daniel threw his arms around Jeff and drew him into an unbearably tight hug,causing Jeff to spill the champagne. ''Jeff, i've missed you so much it hurts..'' Daniel was unabashedly crying now,sobbing against Jeff bare muscled shoulder.. ''Everything will be alright now Daniel'' Jeff replied,placing the glass down and reciprocating the hug. ''You died.. Is it this heaven...Did i die..?'' Daniel,full of emotions just sputtered out questions ramdomly and rushedly to Jeff. Jeff hushed him. And they released each other from their embrace..Dans eyes never left Jeff,scanning him from his handsome face to his alluring bare torso.. ''Whats ahppened to you, you look so irresistably sexy and more toned than i could ever remember you..?'' Jeff just smiled,passed Daniel a glass of champagne and peered out from the Oak tree on the crest of a hill where they sat,taking in the wide open richly beautiful countryside around them..birds singing in the air and in the trees,butterflies fluttering across patches of flowers around them..the smell of pollen wafting in the air,...a church bell gently ringing from a spire that stood high above the red roofed cotswold stone cottages of a village in the near distance,nestled by a winding river glinting under the sunlight. ''You remember this place Daniel. Much Markham,England.We came here the summer..'' Jeff paused,smiling back at a beaming Daniel, who took a sip of the champagne,..before continuing.''...the summer before i died.'' He could see the smile fade on Daniels face.''Then are we dead... This IS heaven..Am i finally with you.?'' Jeff cupped Daniels face with his hand and then gently stroked the side of his face lovingly.. ''You are not dead.. I brought you here to this one place from your memory that held so much happiness and romance to you..'' Jeff paused again,noticing Daniels eyes begin to well up.. ''You were in an car accident during a harsh winters blizzard. There was a young man with you in your car but he is alright. A man of kind heart and warmth had found you both near the wreck and he took you to his cabin to tend to the wounds you have..'' Dans face showed signs of disappointment that his time with Jeff was not to be, and tears rolled down his cheeks.'' ''It is imperative that you find the will to carry on and fight to survive..'' Jeff said with such passion. 'But i want to be with you. Fuck my life.. My life is with you..'' Dans arm reached up and swept around and drew in the surroundings. ''Here is where i want to be with you..!'' Jeff smiled softly and he leaned in and gave Dan a short but loving kiss. ''Its not your time..'' Daniel broke in. ''No,..it IS my time.. What have i got to live for,without you..?'' ''You have everything to live for.'' Jeff replied sternly,cupping Dans head gently with both hands,framing his saddened face.. 'Listen to me...Its not your time...I will ALWAYS be with you..'' Jeffs hand reached down and he touched Daniel on his chest,above his heart.''..in here..!'' Daniel could see the sincerity and the truth inside Jeff emerald green eyes, as Jeff continued.. ''You remember that boy in the car with you,don't you....Jacob,the hitchhiker..?'' Jeff said knowingly. Dan nodded slightly in acknowledgement. ''You will find happiness with him,i know.. You will find the strength to carry on and to enjoy life again.. He himself has needed to find that kindred spirit,that endearing love to share, someone to make his own life better and worthwhile after the traumas of the short life he has had so far..'' Jeff could see the spark of doubt in Dans sorrowful eyes ''Believe me,this young man is more like me than you know.. He reminds me,...of me, when i was his age...Young,virile,...up for anything...Fit and healthy with a body that yearned of dedication and commitment from gym work-outs that i was too lazy to keep up..'' Dans spirit was picked up by this memory of their past,with the period when they both went through the ''gym bunny'' phase but could'nt keep up with sweat and toil of keeping their bodies in absolute perfection.. not that either of them were out of shape by their mid forties..! ''I remember,..but i'm 'getting on a bit now for all that muscle mary stuff.'' ''You're fifty,..not ninety..!'' replied Jeff,gently swatting Dan across the top of his head.. ''But i can help you with that.. Just promise me you will live,..that you will move on..?''. Daniels mind reeled. His heart was torn by the thought of never seeing jeff again,..of forgetting even what he looked like as time progressed. Jeff leaned in and gave Dan another short kiss.''I will always be with you in some form or another, in that big heart of yours,...in Jacobs eyes..'' Dan finally smiled again..''You said you can help me with my physique..?'' as he pulled Jeff in for a warm embrace and a more passionate kiss,his hands roaming across Jeffs tight six pack abs and smooth hairless chest. ''Oh yes,...just let your love flow..'' Jeff said between their increasingly erotic touching and petting. ''Stealing lines from the Bellamy Brothers..?'' Dan replied with a slight humourous grin, before both became pre-ccupied with lust. .... Up there, on that hill, a piece of Jeff flowed into Daniel,filling his heart with love, and filling his body with new found vigour...and youth. As they made love,the last vestiges of clothes discarded in passion..with each thrust of Jeffs cock into Daniel,Dan grew younger,more stronger.. His greying hair darkening into black like ink was being dyed into it.. The winkles of age and worry smoothening out and as the years ebbed backwards away,his face took on a beautiful male model look. Deep ice blue eyes framed with thin broad lightly arching eyebrows and a narrower slight upturned nose that gave him a cute elfin appeal. His rough lips becoming soft and moist and fuller,a potential for Dan to become a great kisser and great at something else he could wrap those luscious lips around..! With a slightest of pucker of those lush lips he could exude sexual sultriness that could make anyone who desired him,swoon weakly. A few days shadow of stubble on his chin just made him all the more sexier.. And the change did'nt end there.. As Jeffs angelic body pressed against his lover. As his tending hands took to every curve and course of Dans naked torso and arms, Daniel seemed to be invigorated with new found strength which then flowed increasing size into his smooth muscles. A tease of Jeffs fingers across Daniels once slight pecs of his lean chest,brought out their curves and rounding shapes. The flick of the fingers on Dans nipples hardened them and made Daniel groan with lust,adding more of Jeffs magic touch into Dans pecs that grew out thicker and fuller,becoming lightly dusted with soft dark curly hairs around his nipples,across the mounds and down into the deepening crevasse of his sternum between the growing muscles that grew from hillocks to heaving mountains. As one of Jeffs hands,now full of solid pec muscle,cupped it and tweaked at his nipples,Jeffs other hand flowed over Dans shoulders that rose into full broad slopes that framed a thicker lightly bullish neck,ever up till they nudged at his ear-lobes. The hand cupping Dans pecs,left to wander across the lean stomach that repsonded by ripping and tensing,and then his abs showing though,tightening,hardening into a solid six pack that rose like a tray of rolls in an oven.. Lines cut through sharply and defined the sensuous v shape towards his groin,like small rivulets eroding away at a bed of rocks that themsleves hardened even more and crunched together as Dan gently twisted and moved in the throes of passion..Two more hard blocks of abs arose,crunching together with the six,undulating like sand0dunes to finally reveal a shockingly cut 8-pack..Job done on those abs just awaiting someones tongue to lap way at the sweat that funneled down the cuts between each block like tiny streams to the present that would soon await at his groin.. With both hands now,Jeff ran them up the side of Dans bigger,heavier,mightier,manlier torso,up to his arm-pits,and making way for his lats to swell,to flare out of near non-existance,into huge wide-spreading slabs that pushed him up higher off the grass and stretching and broadening his back shockingly wide,like the hood of a cobra and arising the thought of 'barn door lats' to amazing reality. And those wide wide lats tapered down in a sexy v shape into an awesomely tight and narrow waistline. Out went the hands, over the shoulders,across delts filling out big round hard delts that could rugby tackle Trajans Column and knock it down to dust..Those magic hands of an angel passed down to the 'guns' that soon would be the hot top ticket to any 'gun show'.!Once lean sizeable but small biceps suddenly jumped alive as veins pulsed thickenly across the surface of the curves like water running through a firehose.. These veins plugged themselves into Dans bicpes and triceps and started to inflate them, to swell them rapidly from grapefruits to cantaloupe melons, swollen and engorged even fuller to cannonballs streaked with vascular pulsating electrodeds of veins. Biceps that soon reached 25 inches,and tri's that hung thick and hard,...to forearms so ripped and burgeoning like he could rip up a sequoia. Jeff pushed his cock into Dans tight hole as he felt up along Dans legs draped up over his shoulders.. Thighs that seemed to flex,and grow then swell with each flex until they were full of muscle and framing Jeffs head and seemed to give added weight in them as they grew tree trunk thick full of muscle.. Calves that bulged and bloated and tighly ripped.. Thick sinewy bulging leg muscles powerful enough Dan would look like he could dead-lift a bull Elephant..! With each thrust of Jeffs thick cock,he could feel Dan ass respond by clenching tighter against the sodomising intrusion, clamping at the cock as it slid in and out as the growth flowed into his glutes,raising them up,filling them out and gradually endowing Dan with a sexy curvaceous bubble butt. The final gift to Dan, was the growth in his genitals. In the throes of lust,Dans cock had arose into its solid,rigid erection of 7 inches,but now,that erection throbbed even harder,and with each throb,engorged even thicker and fuller,and longer.. It was growing like Daniels own Trajans column without the motifs.. The few veins streaking up along the hard shaft like old thick dry jungle roots creeping over ancient Cambodian ruins to cap a big flaring pinkish-purple glans oozing pre-ucm out of the slit like a tree oozing sap. And his balls too had grown low and heavy in their sac.. Full bloated with cum,lolling weightily like soft medicine balls between his upstretched legs.. .................................................. ............................................... In the cabin, if Jacob was not with St.Nick in a nearby room,for once risking a chance away from Daniel laying under the woolen blankets on the couch, he would have seen the wounds gradually healing themselves. He would have seen Daniel sleeping soundly,covered in a light sheen of sweat,not from the heat of the fire..He would have seen Daniels face looking calm and serene.. ...He would have seen Daniel growing under that warm welcoming blanket,obscuring the gentle swelling of his muscles....the invigoration of youth flooding back into his face,his body,his hands..The arousal of his cock as Daniel dreamt his life-changing dream. ....But Jacob would'nt be left out.. Not for long.. After all, Nick,...Santa Claus had promised him his Christmas gift.. ....But thats for the last part, the healing of wounds,the finding of love. ==================================================================
  9. CardiMuscleman

    The Power of the Titan : Part Three

    After what seemed like hours, Porthos’s body was racked with pain. His arms and legs were on fire, his chest was heaving and he was breathing hard. His heart was pounding and he was sweating like a pig but still he was denying the Cardinal his triumph. Another bolt of pain produced another scream and Porthos could feel his arms and legs burning in pain. He knew that he could never give up and yet in the back of his mind he wondered if he should die, but realised that would give the Cardinal his ultimate triumph. Another bolt of pain woke him up to the fact that he had to escape. However as he was planning on his escape, the Cardinal entered. “So” he said, “do you have anything to say?” Porthos closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I defy you!” he grunted and with that he pulled on his restraints. Slowly but surely, the wheel at the top of the device started to turn and despite the torturer’s best efforts, the pain in Porthos’s arms and legs started to recede and as it did, Porthos’s strength increased. The Cardinal realised that unless he did something and quickly, the giant would be free and so took a flaming torch from one of the walls and held it aloft. “You will die!” he said, and with that lit a rope. Porthos watched the rope caught fire and followed it to the end and gasped as he saw the ceiling was full f spears all attached to a frame so that when the rope burnt through it would pierce anyone on the rack. Porthos knew it was a race against time and redoubled his strength. As he pulled against the restraints, a bulge developed in his loincloth. The bigger the bulge got, the more intense Porthos’s breathing got, the more intense the breathing got, the harder Porthos pulled. After a few moments, the loincloth gave up it’s struggle and ripped to reveal Porthos’s own spear which was already tipped with a dribble of liquid. The sight disgusted the Cardinal and he left the room, but the torturer was intrigued and gingerly touched the spear. Porthos moaned and his pull relaxed. He had never experienced these feelings before. He felt powerful, weak, strong, timid and aroused all at the same time. The torturer grabbed the spear and started to rub hard. Porthos's mind whirled with images of Hercules breaking free of chains, Samson bringing down the temple and even his own incredible feats of strength. The faster the torturer rubbed, the harder his spear got and the harder his spear got the stronger he got. Porthos suddenly roared and pulled the restraints so hard that the rack broke under the strain and Porthos was free. He jumped off the rack and wrestled the torturer to the ground just as the rope snapped and the spears crashed to the ground. Porthos rolled onto his back to find that he had crushed the torturer who was lying on the ground, clearly in agony. As Porthos was about to leave, the torturer gasped, “Hail Porthos, the strongest man to live!”. *** Porthos reported his tale to Captain Treville who noted his report with concern. Whilst he was pleased that Porthos had escaped and not revealed any information, the fact that the Cardinal was now willing to use torture was a frightening development. Porthos replied with a smile saying “Whilst I am a Musketeer, no one will be able to beat us!” with that he thumped his chest, saluted and walked out of the Captain office looking for D'Artangan, the newest recruit to the King's Musketeers and a man almost as much in awe of Porthos's strength as Porthos. As he did, he felt his spear start to bulge and hoped that the new recruit would not be frightened of his request which he repeated in his mind over and over again. "Punish me, D'Artangan. Punish me and reveal my strength!" The End???
  10. TheWeremuscleForest

    The Other Side of Our Minds

    ‘Will you stop trying to molest me Justin, I wish I never told you about that story now.’ The curious 20-year-old college student has been hitting on his older 22-year-old roommate for several months. Braxton mentioned to Justin one night while the two guys were in their bedroom after having a few drinks that he was visited by an older man the night he turned 18. He was a freshman in college and didn’t really know anyone that went there. The man was dressed incredibly well in a nicely tailored suit from top to bottom. At the time, Braxton’s roommate was visiting family so he wasn’t around which left the young student all alone. The man showed up at the front steps of the dormitory that Braxton was staying in. It so happened that the teenager was outside standing and talking on his phone. When he finished his phone call, he turned to go back inside but not before this man stops him. ‘Hello there Braxton mind if I have a few words with you.’ With a puzzled look on his face, the 18-year-old stares at the man and wonders how the hell he would know his name. ‘Uhhh, I don’t know who you are and I don’t want to buy what you are trying to sell to me so…..*stops to think*…..how did you know my name?’ The man smiles and proceeds to walk towards him up the stairs into the front lobby. Braxton starts to move backwards inside before he is about to scream. The man grabs his arm and holds him in place. The scared teenager freezes as the man puts his arms around Braxton’s back. ‘Shhh, I’m not here to hurt you buddy, you are ready to graduate to the next chapter in your life. You obviously don’t remember anything about me since you are so surprised to see me. Unfortunately, restraining you right now is the only thing I can do to get your attention.’ Braxton tries to scream but nothing comes from his voicebox. He grabs it with both hands and looks around to see if anyone notices. There isn’t a soul there probably because it is after midnight now. The man takes him over to one of the chairs sitting on the balcony beside the entrance to the dorm and tells him to sit down. The man pulls up another chair and sits in front of Braxton. He takes a few deep breaths and looks the young man in the eyes. ‘Okay…..when you were 12 Braxton, you were in an accident. As you lay dying in that hospital bed, your mind and soul took a journey to a place not many have ever been to before. That plane of existence is where I reside. You were not sure why you had the feelings you did back then since you were on the verge of becoming a teenager. Your soul latched on to me Braxton and wanted to learn what to do next which I was obliged to do. You were unaware that your body was healing with my assistance.’ ‘That wasn’t the only thing I was helping you with either. *clasps his hands in Braxton’s* Your cock and balls for the first time that day started to function in a more mature fashion. You had your first orgasm in that hospital bed and it was amazing.’ Braxton rips his hands away from the man and jumps up. He rushes towards the front lobby doors and turns around. ‘I don’t fucking know what you are talking about man, I don’t ever want to remember that day ever again…..’ The man stops him midway through his thought. ‘Braxton…..you know who I am because you made me look the way you always wanted your fantasy man to look like. You always wanted to be with an older man around your dad’s age because you have talked about it every night before you go to bed. Even now at this school, you mention me and dream about me.’ The teenager goes inside and down the hall before he stops by one of the night auditors. ‘Is everything alright Braxton? You seem flustered and a bit…..sweaty.’ He turns and notices that the man is right behind him, but the auditor doesn’t see him. Braxton thinks for a moment and speaks. ‘I just went on a run, I’m alright.’ ‘Okay, remember that you must be in before midnight though during the week.’ The auditor turns and walks back to the front desk. Braxton gets into the nearby elevator as the man follows him inside. ‘He doesn’t see you. Who are you?’ *reaches to feel the man’s thick muscular chest which strains against his satin dress shirt* The man reaches over to push the stop button on the elevator and pulls Braxton in to him. He grabs the teen’s hands and rubs them up and down his chest as he stares into his eyes. The teen is in awe of the man’s incredible muscles that he feels underneath the fabric. The man’s groomed black fur on his face and neck is exactly what he envisioned in the dreams he has had since he was 12. ‘You know who I am Braxton. I’m your Matt that you have formed in your mind, well at least physically. I can also sense something else going on in your mind.’ Matt lets out a few growls as Braxton hears a few rips coming from the man’s body. His body appears to be growing a little bit as his shirt splits down the middle of his back along with his suit jacket. His thick hairy pecs shred the front of the shirt slightly as they are now visible. The teenager lets out a few moans. He reaches in to feel the hairy swollen muscles that feel soft to the touch. ‘Hold on there buddy, look down. GRRR!’ *winks* Matt’s quads swell up to the point that his suit pants look painted on. The seams rip enough to where the thick hairy slabs jut out the sides. The surprised teen leans down to run his hands along each bump and curve. He lightly moans feeling the thick forest of hair sitting on top of both tree trunks. While he is down there, Braxton feels a lot of heat radiating from the center of Matt’s pants. The big man grunts as his crotch grows thicker and longer. The young teen can’t seem to take his eyes off of it hearing noises coming from within. ‘Go ahead buddy, put your hand up to it, you are compelling me to grow.’ Braxton runs his hands along the crease of Matt’s shaft. The huge pole pulses against his hand as he finally gives in to it a little to lay his head against it. The big man reaches down to pet the teen’s head and hair before telling him to look up. ‘You are the reason I am like this Braxton. My body is what your mind created and is creating as we are in here right now. I know my muscles are turning you on greatly as I sense it in you. There is a part of you that was longing for this day to come. Now that I am here, it is time for you to take the next step and enter into the next stage of your life Braxton.’ The dazed teen slowly moves Matt’s cock around before he unzips his pants and swallows the huge pole down his throat. He sucks on it lovingly making the big man groan deeply. Braxton looks up and smiles as he starts to feel the need for Matt to grow again. More popping comes from the big man’s body as his pants completely shred and fall down to the ground. His immense chest finishes off the rest of his dress shirt as he yanks it off and throws it to the other side of the elevator. He growls and does a most muscular for Braxton as his jacket nearly disintegrates under the incredible mass forming on his body. This makes the young man moan even louder as he tastes a river of precum flowing down into his belly. ‘RAWR! Yeah buddy, you are making me want to rage Braxton. If you continue on this path, I won’t be able to hold back. I enjoy it because you enjoy it of course.’ The young student grabs Matt’s immense ass and snaps the waistband off freeing up the last remaining fabric from his body. His socks and dress shoes explode under the pressure of his growing feet. Braxton moans as he continues to gulp at the big man’s powerful rod as it lengthens and slides further down inside the teen’s throat. Matt reaches his incredibly massive arms out to brace himself against the elevator walls which are now creaking. ‘Mmmmm buddy…..this is about to get really dangerous though Braxton. Stay close to me.’ Matt’s huge frame is now as wide as the elevator now as his head starts to go through the ceiling. Debris begins falling down as the growing man laughs destroying the walls and lights which explode against his hairy stone skin. Braxton sucks even harder and faster tasting the ooze draining inside him as Matt roars in delight. He raises his massive left arm up to grab the cables above his head while gripping Braxton in his right arm. He lifts the young man up with him who still has his mouth locked on to the huge pole residing in his throat. ‘It feels absolutely incredible Braxton. Keep sucking buddy while I get both of us to safety up at the top of this dorm.’ The giant continues climbing up the cables with one arm as he feels his cock and balls getting closer to the edge. They are now swelling to the point that they are turning a purplish-red color. Matt stops moving up the cable to compose himself for a few seconds making Braxton come up for air as the giant’s huge cock bounces furiously spraying several jets of precum down inside the elevator car below them. The huge stud flexes his entire body enhancing the feeling from within while growling in delight. ‘Make me cum Braxton you really do have quite a wild streak from within your mind. It will be the biggest load you have ever seen in your life.’ Holding on to Matt’s waist as much as possible, the student strokes the giant’s cock in a strong even fashion knowing that the volcano will erupt at any time. The monster’s massive legs and quads move with the rhythm as they thrust faster with each stroke. Matt starts to climb upwards again feeling the tension from inside his balls building up again as his testicles cannot grow anymore otherwise they will rip through the sack. ‘SHIT! OHHHH FUCK BRAXTON, look out. I am going to coat this whole place.’ Braxton moves his head as Matt’s piss slit stretches to its limits before launching a giant wave of cum fifty feet into the air before it lands onto the nearby tunnel wall. The giant continues swiveling his lower body still able to hold on to the cable as his body pours sweat down on to the lower elevator car. Yet another giant stream of cum goes flying from Matt’s huge cock and finds its way down at the bottom of the tunnel. Braxton now moves back into the huge pole’s path and awaits the third jet as he opens his mouth. Matt roars in laughter still thrusting his quads in the eager young man’s face. ‘You want this kind of power too don’t you buddy…..yeah I know you do…..I have always known that you wanted this. Well you will get your wish Braxton, open wide little man!’ The student sticks his tongue out as another huge jet of cum hits him in the face and coats his shirt and pants. He locks his mouth on top of the huge pole and chokes as the cum continues to shoot out of the giant’s cock and down Braxton’s chest and lower body. Matt smiles at him and can feel the young man gulping down tons of cum craving what he has always dreamed about. The big man waits until all of the cum has left his body before he starts to climb again. Braxton moans caressing his lover’s immense ass and licks the sides of Matt’s cock getting every drop he might have missed. The student’s stomach is so swollen that it pushes his shirt all the way up above it. He literally looks pregnant. Matt laughs again as he feels the round protrusion up against his legs. ‘I think you have had enough to drink Braxton. Let’s get out of here before something else happens.’ After a couple more minutes, they finally reach the top. Matt busts through the top by putting his fist through the steel and concrete. He finds the roof and looks down at Braxton. ‘You trust me right Braxton?’ He then lifts them both up onto the roof and falls over to rest. Braxton lets go of his waist and does the same thing. After calming down, the giant gets up and goes to stand over his young lover. The student’s stomach remains bloated from the massive amount of cum he consumed. Matt helps him up so he can talk to him. ‘Well, what are you waiting for Braxton? *waves his arms* You consumed enough muscle building protein to probably take this building down.’ Braxton wonders what he is supposed to do. Matt looks him straight in the eyes and says to just concentrate his energy on him. The student’s breathing increases as his body begins to react. His stomach slowly empties as his legs and feet start growing. His jeans split immediately as his shoes explode under the sheer mass that is being added. His muscles make quick work of his shirt as his back cracks several times trying to accommodate the incredible amount of muscle that keeps piling on top of their selves. The young teenager that was there just a minute before is completely gone now as Braxton matures right in front of Matt’s eyes. The big young stud roars in ecstasy as he feels completely reborn. He flexes his massively round muscles trying to show off in front of Matt who just laughs. He flexes his muscles back at Braxton as they both grunt at each other. The roof creaks under their feet as they take a few huge steps around. Matt eventually gets behind his young lover and wraps his arms around him. He then throws Braxton to the ground and starts wrestling him. They grunt and groan rubbing their slick hairy muscled bodies together until they eventually just decide to stop. After a few minutes, Matt moves down to his partner’s lower body and starts to toy with Braxton’s thick meaty cock. ‘You worked me over really well Braxton, now it is my turn buddy.’ After being edged by Matt several times the young behemoth finally launches his cum volcano into the air as it floats over the side of the building and coats several of the dorm student’s cars. Braxton quickly moves himself to the edge of the building and shoots several more jets of cum hitting nearby streets and sidewalks. They both laugh hysterically until Braxton finishes cumming. Matt puts his arm around his young lover and kisses his lips. They embrace each other and moan as they calm down. ‘Well that’s it buddy. I’ve done all I can do for you at this point, but I will be back soon don’t you worry.’ Matt vanishes a few seconds later. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ‘Are you fucking serious Braxton? I mean…..I knew that you nearly died and all but this Matt guy just sounds like some kind of fantasy.’ ‘And I would agree with that assessment Justin, but he is very real. He helped me learn how to control it after that night. It wasn’t the only time we were together either.’ Justin tries to rub his roommate’s crotch again which makes Braxton quite irritable. ‘DAMNIT JUSTIN! I am not going to grow for you. I am not Bruce Banner it doesn’t work that way.’ ‘So what triggers it then?’ Braxton knows what he is trying to do and doesn’t go for it. ‘HA! nice try there genius, but no clues.’ Justin finally gets up from Braxton’s bed and moves over to the bathroom to strip naked. His 10” cock is wet with precum which prompts the college student to rub it up and down his shaft to make it shiny. Braxton stares intently at it and is dumbfounded as to why he never saw Justin’s huge cock before. ‘Uhh Justin, I had no idea that you were so…..wow endowed.’ He can start to feel himself heating up quickly too. Before he can even try to control himself, his body starts to react. Justin can see the discomfort he is in and walks back over to him. He grins at Braxton and bounces his cock at him. ‘So you want this do you man? This is going to be fucking awesome.’ Once he stands directly in front of Braxton’s face, he slaps his cock on his roommate’s face and chest and watches in amazement as his gifted older roommate’s growing muscles rip, shred, and tear their way through his clothes and continue growing to unimaginable heights. Never in his wildest dreams did Justin think that this improbable story was true, but now he knows that Braxton’s near-death experience brought with it a powerful gift. In case you want to read another installment in the series: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3467-the-other-side-of-the-mirror/
  11. roboprobo

    Tales of a Lust Mage #3

    TALES OF A LUST MAGE #3 by roboprobo SUB TAGS; Magic, Subtle Growth, Hyper (some), Height, Characters (Bradley, Xaekus, Hunter, Maker, Bahketh), Genies (Efreeti), Demons, Archers The following work of fiction portrays fictional characters in sexual situations. Please do not read if you interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format/medium. Author Note: I apologize sincerely for the length if it is a bother. I really wanted to set up the universe and then move onto more sexual themes. I still plan to keep expanding, growing, if you know what I mean, but for now I really wanted to get some muscle to grow in the actual text. Part I – Bronc, Imps, and Fire “All right, I officially end your punishment, Xaekus.” Bradley said, tearing a small strip of paper in two. Its arcane symbols seemed to burn the paper into ash. “YES!” Xaekus exclaimed, forming a human guise he accustomed to. He didn’t have enough energy to create a tall guise to match his beautiful master. Right now he couldn’t care less about how annoyed he was at Him, he just wanted to feel His skin’s energy. “No, no stop. Please, you’re going to choke me with your foulness.” Bradley muttered, looking through his files as Xaekus flew up and embraced his master’s arm. “What are you doing, master?” asked Xaekus, floating as his lower body fizzled into smoke. He hadn’t gathered enough energy to maintain full guise. Looking at his master’s full, striated pecs, He decided to size himself down to land right in the cleavage. Bradley looked down at the small, muscular, doll-sized man between his pectorals. He wished he had more than his white tank on. “Do you remember Barry Yates?” Bradley mumbled, walking into a storage room. “Barry Owen Yates?! They call him ‘Bronc’ nowadays! Yes, you helped him get as big as he is now, didn’t you?” Asked Xaekus, excited. He looked over and saw some file cabinets opened and fluffed into a mess. His urge to clean won over. The imp flew off to clean as Bradley responded. “I helped him before. He didn’t want to take steroids because he wanted to stay lean and clean. I can respect that. At the time I had just set up the business. He called me recently, said he’d saved up enough money to get himself massive with my help, to inhuman proportion. I’d told him I could give him a consultation, but no sex. I have to use magic to keep his cock from breaking me in two.” Bradley said. “Oh, I can transform him, sir! And I can do the other part too…” Xaekus trailed off as he finished cleaning the files. “No, I’d rather you didn’t. You still prove unruly and his general libido would easily let you possess him. I’m not stupid,” responded Bradley, finally finding the big bronze chest he’d tied up in blue chains. Xaekus managed to bite, “Sir, you never let me have any fun anymore!” before seeing the chest. He became silent. His glamour faded and turned him into a simple puff of blue smoke. “You don’t mean to use him, do you?” Xaekus muttered. “I do. I can control him easier because he’s been locked away from this world for centuries. I plan on syphoning a pact if the consultation with Bronc leads there. Now let’s see, what artifacts do I have that belong to him?” Xaekus peeked from behind his master and fiddled with his glasses as he tried to make some guise. He was nervous. Bradley unfolded a handkerchief and pulled out a small idol from the brass chest. The crude clay statuette was of a four armed figure with horns. Its red paint had chipped away long ago, leaving only a few marks that Bradley had tried keeping intact. Maybe he’d use a spell or two to fix the thing, but he didn’t want the subject to anchor any more into the normal world. “How old is that thing…?” Xaekus managed to ask before looking over to the beginning of the storage room’s dark side. Xaekus himself was no hero, but he certainly didn’t do the things a lot of the artifacts Bradley had there did. The familiar grumbled and decided maybe he’d go to his bottle or clean the house. Bradley’s left hand drew an arcane symbol that acted as a small flashlight. The darkness seemed to try eating the simple light as Bradley’s eyes examined the ancient idol. “Hmm. How old indeed.” Part II – Four Branches Lit Aflame The winter was terrible, at least by what Papa had said. Pa was a great man. He took me in when my mother had died. He said we were once a great tribe. The war with the Yellow clan had ruined us, even if we had won. Both clans had died out when the winter came after. We’d traveled a long time afterward going South- the lands where people did not move through the land. Fairly close to our territories in the south people had come and built a small village down in the valley. We didn’t travel anymore but chose to live farther up in the mountainous region, away from the village. Papa had taught me to do many things. He taught me how to forage, hunt, and fish. He told me all the great legends of our tribe. The saddest was the last one, that our Great Spirit guardian had sacrificed itself in the war. I asked him if that was why we had become so alone; he never answered. The winters were never cruel to us as they had been in the years before my birth. We hunted a large amount of game and ate as much as needed. Eventually we settled fairly low on the mountain, away from the village. Even both of us could not always eat all the food we caught. I was proud of my Pa. I was now eighteen years of age. I was very worried about my papa. He’s changed so much since that cold night. It was a few nights after I’d just hit my seventeenth year. I was afraid. I was not very good at hunting or fishing. I had become very adept at planting and creating things with wood. The Wise Woman of the village taught me to plant things like squash and carrots, so we started to plant things at our home. Her husband had taught me to build things after we traded many furs with them, so our small house is very sturdy. Papa was not very good at these things because he was stuck in the old ways of our people. That is what the Wise Woman had said. “We’ll follow the tracks in a bit, boy. We should rest up a bit. These muddy trails make it easy to spot them, but aye, my boots look terrible.” Papa laughed, putting his bow down. I saw the prints in the snow leading uphill too. Pa smiled. I was worried because he was ill. His lungs heaved with phlegm as he sneezed. We sat down and began snacking. “Should we really be hunting, still? I think you need rest, Pa.” I told him. “Nonsense. I’m fine. You just keep scouting for me until you can hunt as well as I. Then you can worry about me getting rest, boy.” Pa said, chewing on dry meat. “Yes, sir. I wish you’d let the Wise Woman give you medicine. You’ve been sick since the last frost.” I said, drawing in the mud with a stick. I was going to plant seeds whenever we got home from hunt. The dirt was starting to dry the perfect consistency for new seed. Pa began coughing hard and looked up at me as he spit up foulness. He asked me to look away. People died often because of illness, so I began to worry more. I think he could see it. “Calm down, lad. I will be fine,” He huffed, “And you need to be less like your mother and other father.” I didn’t think about it much, so I asked, “Pa, what were my parents like?” I chewed on some salted meat. We would dry all our meat this way to carry around. It’d make me very thirsty, but the stream was on our trip after this deer hunt. Maybe I could convince Papa to get medicine then. “Your mother was a wonderful, smart woman. She was very pretty and your father went through some trouble before the war to marry her. And your father, well, he was smaller than me, like you are. That’s certain.” He said, poking my arm. I laughed a bit. “He was a much smarter man than I ever was. I really wish he’d been around to see you grow up. He’d do a much better job than me. Both he and your mother.” He added, seeming sad. I didn’t ask these kinds of things much. “He was smart enough to name you for what you’d be really good at. Maker.” He said, packing up his ration of food and preparing to seek the deer. His name was always Papa to me, but in the village they called him simply Hunter. We went up the trail, seeing the prints go off. This was no problem, as the mud of the beginning spring left the prints terribly obvious. We’d never gone into this part of the forest for as long as we’d lived in the area, from what I could scout. The woods were extremely thick and many of the plants had gone green with moss- there seemed to have been a fire in the area. Pa had mentioned that the ‘Hidden Woods’ were cursed but as long as two people went in together and wore amulets, they’d be fine. So we cut through the woods quickly and reached the entrance to the mountain’s side. I’d never seen a cave like this. It looked like the mouth of a beast; jagged stone coming from the ceiling and ground of the cave. Mossy logs and brush lay all over the ground outside, like Pa’s feet moved quietly, pointing into the cave. It’d be too dark to see if we went in too deep, so we had to decide what to do. “Maybe I could go in and scare him out? I doubt there’s a bear in there or anything. If there is, it’ll get the deer before it gets me.” Pa said. “No, I’ll go.” I told him. “I’m not as strong or have great aim, Pa, but I can probably move faster than you.” “Ah, fine. I’ll admit you that.” Pa said, looking for a place to hide from the deer. I looked back and saw his pale skin under his clothes and cap. I’d hurry so we could get to the valley. My feet were very quiet and I tipped through, finding the best footing to sneak. My eyes adjusted to the darkness as I went deeper into the cave. Then I saw it. I wish I hadn’t. An altar sat alone in the spokes of the cave’s cold floor. I didn’t know what it was back then, but now I do. Atop the broken altar sat a small figurine. It was beautiful, looked like a real person, but smaller. I didn’t have time to see everything as the deer stood in front of it. I hadn’t made any great kills before and by instinct I shot the young buck quickly. The arrow pierced the buck’s neck all the way through. I was amazed and set another arrow in case it wasn’t enough. The deer lay its head atop the stone surface. It then fell to the ground. Without much thought I went to the deer and pulled out my knife. I was a fool for being in such a hurry. Maybe the evil one whispered to me without me knowing. I was just trying to get ahold of the buck’s neck to drain it. And that’s what I did. I pulled the buck’s head to the altar’s surface and slit its throat. I was stupid as I whispered out loud how great it was I’d found it. Then I heard the whispers, almost immediately. He whispered behind me as the blood dripped over the altar slowly. It pooled. I quickly turned and held my knife ready to attack whatever was in the cave. Nothing there. My other hand went looking for my amulet, failing to find it. It had fallen off, or maybe I had never put it on. I was doomed from the start. “Light… Fire… The room…” I thought I heard. Although I certainly didn’t want to follow the command, whatever it was saying, but I could definitely see better if I had. I quickly pulled out a small torchlight I carried for these situations (not that they happened often) and struck it against my belt many times. I tried to stay calm, but I shivered in fear of whatever was in the cave with me. “The room… Light… the room…” My small torchlight burst into a flame! I threw it at the altar, no longer worried about the buck. I grabbed the knife with both hands to defend myself and finally saw it. The flame landed right in the altar’s small brazier. The figurine finally showed its detail in full as the fire glowed. “Ah… It’s so good… to be back.” It muttered. His voice was somewhat like a puff of smoke, always blowing up from the flame. I fell backward in cowardice. The flame danced about chaotically at first, somewhat shaping itself. Eventually it did shape itself above the brazier, like a lantern, midair. I held my breath. “What a helpful young… Man. I’ve been gone for so long… What an offering!” the lantern blurted out before laughing hysterically. I clenched my teeth, trying to think of when to run away. “Oh, this is not the proper way for me to look like,” He said, sounding much clearer than before. He flickered around and stopped in different places of the area, observing the objects of the altar. “My, I remember this gift. What an artisan, he was. He was one of my favorites…” He said, covering the figurine in its flame body. The figurine didn’t burn. The flame seemed to disappear into the statuette, making it glow a strong red. “I’m glad someone called me back. I wonder where everyone’s been! I’ve got a bone to pick with them if they come back. They’re probably dead… fools, all of them.” The figurine said. I could feel his sight upon me. It felt burning hot, but inside, skipping my skin. I trembled and closed my eyes, not knowing what to do. I was so afraid of this thing. I didn’t know why. “Do you plan on sitting there or coming to meet your new friend?” He said, cackling a laugh at the end. I opened my eyes and saw the figurine sitting at the southern end of the altar. Pieces of cracked stone had blown off and the buck lay at the edge, its blood smeared. I tried getting up, feeling incredibly sweaty. “Well, aren’t you a handsome lad…” He said, vibrating the figurine. I could see it clearly; a great man like an ox. It had great big arms for its size and horns like the animal. I stood away from the altar for a bit before it boomed, “Come closer, weakling! I only wish to give thanks!” I couldn’t help but inch closer in fear as the brazier blew a bigger flame. “Who are you?” He asked. “I am called Maker. I make things from wood and can make plants grow strong.” I whispered, coughing from the heat my lungs felt. I can’t explain why, but my body felt as if I was soaking in sweat quickly. “What an interesting name. Maker. You’re an interesting boy, too. Heheh… Do you know who I am?” He said, seeming to whisper to me again. “No. Who are you?” “I am Bahketh, Prince of Fire and Strength…” He whispered. I felt his voice in my right ear, as if his mouth was there, whispering to me closely. I was so nervous and sweaty. “O-oh…” I stuttered. “And I would like to thank you for helping me. I will grant you…” He trailed off. As he did, I saw the blood on the altar disappear, leaving the stone clean. “I will grant you one wish.” He said. I stepped back. I looked around to see if my eyes would find him. “What do you mean? Where did you come from? I don’t want anything, you can have the deer, just please leave me alone.” “My dear lad, it’s only fair for me to repay you. Your tongue is too crude, but some have called me a djinn. We’re masters at granting wishes, you know. We’re even better at it when we’re given a gift… All I wanted was the blood. Now take my humble thanks or I will get angry.” He said, fire changing scarlet red. “W-well, I’ve never wanted anything. I don’t need anything. It is the way of my people. We only take what we need.” I stuttered. “Foolish boy, all men have wants. I have many powers… I can grant almost anything… Is there nothing you want? Do you want to be strong? I can make you the strongest man alive…” He said. I could feel my arms tighten as his magic fire filled my chest. “Or is there something else? Do you want the power over fire? I can make you bring down great storms of flame upon your enemies! I can make you wake the salamanders that slumber under the mountains, boy!” He said, his brazier lighting up bright yellow. It released sparkles that shaped into snakes of smoke. “No? Do you… covet someone? I’m especially good at that, boy… Is there a girl you desperately desire? A boy? You can tell me…” He said, making me feel awfully warm all over… “No, I don’t need anything. I have plenty of food, and a good home, and my health,” I said before stopping my breath. “What about my health? Could you do something for that?” “And so much more, my boy. You look awfully healthy to me!” Bahketh laughed. The bastard knew I was a fool. “No, I mean… Could you help the health of my papa?” I asked him. “Oh yes, boy. I can make him very healthy…” __________________________________________________________________________________________ Bahketh taught me to draw his name. I didn’t know how to write, but I certainly knew that words weren’t made that way. Even so, he made me repeat it again and again, in the mud of the cave on the walls. He told me to take a small cup left behind by his ‘stupid caretakers’ from before. It had a small lid and he stuffed it with ashes from his brazier. He told me to light them after my father went to bed. The flame bastard told me that although it’d sound painful to my papa, but it was him burning away the illness. I believed him. I hurried out as I recalled that I’d been in the cave for a while. I carried the buck on my back, feeling stronger than ever. Pa came running out of the bushes as he saw the buck in my arms. “Amazing, boy! I am sorry for not having so much faith in you, bucks are hard enough to catch in the dark on their own. You are definitely a man now!” Pa laughed, examining the buck closely. I felt proud as he patted my back. He coughed and we decided to head down into the Valley after cleaning the deer. Papa refused medicine again and went to sleep early that night. I light the fireplace so the house would be warm. I wasn’t as skilled with stone as much as wood, but the Stone Worker had taken a large fur as payment a while before. Father slept on the upper level of the house. He slept like a corpse. I began drawing Bahketh’s name with some of the coal he’d given me. It was soft and left stain all over the parchment I had at home. My hands trembled as I lit the small container’s ashes with some of the fireplace’s flame. I whispered again and again for Bahketh to come. And he did. Like smoke in the night, his shadow crept through the cracks of our home. The shadow quickly found home in the fireplace. He seemed more shaped this time, almost a man out of fire, flickering out of the shapes the large flame held. The dying winter felt like nothing with his presence around. I didn’t understand the whispers Bahketh made in the shadows of the house. Before I knew it, I found myself covered in sweat again. I saw Papa get up and walk towards the fire. At first I was afraid he didn’t know what was going on, but he seemed asleep. His feet moved clumsily as he reached the fire. Bahketh’s name began to burn into the parchment- red embers popped out in bits as I made a small slit in my finger with a knife. I let the blood drip onto the parchment only a bit to see it wrinkle up in flame. Bahketh laughed and covered my father in a blue fire. My eyes switched around, trying to see everything that was happening as Bahketh ‘cleansed’ my papa. The fire of the hearth blew out and ate at the walls. I tried to scream but found no breath in my lungs, just smoldering ash. I couldn’t breathe and fell to my side. I sought the strength to pull myself up as Papa screamed out words I knew he never learned from our people. I wanted to move, but I was a coward then too. Papa moaned and then began to scream as the flame ate through his sleeping garb. He fell to his knees and twitched as the flame diminished. He seemed to move back and forth, screaming in agony. Bahketh’s tongue was no longer my own. It said a great many words I did not understand. I got up and decided this wasn’t the course of action I wanted to take- Papa was certainly in pain. I ran over to him but only remember Bahketh’s burning arms slam me away. I landed across the house, hitting my head on the door. I blacked out._____________________________________________________________________ That was that. I woke up lying on the ground. I saw nothing out of the ordinary in the house. No fire had taken our home, no parchment or old container. Everything seemed fine. I raised my hand up to see a simple scar on the left arm. I looked burnt there, but it didn’t hurt. I then noticed my arms looked extremely striated, as if I’d not eaten the fats of animals ever. I’d say it looked sickly, but the arms looked fairly healthy and my skin looked fine (aside from the black scar). “Papa? Are you here?” I asked, nervously. From where I was standing, the stairs blocked the view of our home’s second level. I heard a grumble and then some shifting of our beds’ fabric. “What? Oh. Lad, how long have I slept??” asked Papa, from where I could not see. I held my head. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would; I’d felt worse on mornings after drinking with Pa. “I don’t really know, Pa. I fell asleep down here.” I said, sheepishly. I heard his footsteps as he walked down. They sounded different. Finally Pa came down and I saw him, naked. “Pa! Your clothes!” I yelped. “Oh! I’m sorry, boy. I didn’t… I don’t remember taking them off!” He said, embarrassed. I noticed how much better he looked today. His skin wasn’t pale and he looked to have eaten much better. His thick facial hair had grown in quickly in sleep. The shadow it cast on his face had become a tuft of mess. His hands looked thicker and less callused than before as they quickly grabbed things to hide himself with. That’s when I saw Bahketh’s name on his back. Sometimes people scarred themselves with fire. These are tattoos. It seemed to be Bahketh’s name, tattooed on my father’s lower back, above his buttocks. I swallowed my tongue as I saw that it seemed perfected and even more complex than what Bahketh had shown me. In all honesty, it looked beautiful, but I couldn’t help but be afraid once more of Bahketh’s presence in our home. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary though, and things went on much the same. “Well, I will tell you what, I feel amazing! I told you I didn’t need some Wise Woman’s medicine!” Pa said, lifting his arms in a stretch. They looked full of energy- powerful. “Just fine on my own.” We got dressed and did our duties for the day. It turned out little sun was left and we didn’t get much done, but we still had deer to eat for a while anyway. I made broth as Papa finished up around the house. He seemed unable to sit down, even when we’d worked hard all afternoon. “Pa, are you going to eat?” I said, tasting the deer broth. It tasted wonderful. My eyes watched the fire carefully, ready to put it out if necessary. “Aye, but gimme a bit! I’m just trying to,” He huffed, lifting and rearranging things in the house, “move some things around!” I looked over and saw Pa sweating a river. He had moved almost everything in the house so quickly- alone. He looked over and showed me his usual big, funny grin. “Now that you mention it, though, I’m really hungry. And thirsty! I suppose you already caught on though, as you made both food and drink!” He said, running over to the fireplace as I began to make our servings. Pa quickly ate his helping and went for three more. I got two helpings in (what I usually eat, anyway) before we ran out. He laughed and said he could’ve eaten more; I was astounded. Even he could usually only eat about three servings of broth, especially when I stuffed it with things from the forest. He held his distended belly and complimented my cooking. “Maybe we should learn to make bread, it sure fills you up better than broth.” Pa said. I liked the idea, considering I always wanted to learn to make things to eat aside from soups and cooked meats. “Well, if you keep eating like this. I think so, Pa.” I said, smiling back._________________________________________________________________________ Things changed. I didn’t know what to do and even ignored what seemed subtly suspicious. I became afraid. At first, everything seemed great. I never went back into the forest and even told Pa we shouldn’t. He obliged. He told me he had a great idea about how we could train to hunt better, one he’d gotten in a dream. I gave little mind to it and made the tools he asked for. We cut up tree logs in a way that we could hold stumps with our hands easily; handles. They weighed different amounts. I couldn’t lift as much as my Pa, but I still tried to do it with him. Then we began to eat much more. At first we were fine, hunting the usual amount. We seemed to keep up with our need for food by hunting almost twice, if not three times as more food as before. We didn’t need all the furs so we traded for even more tools and different resources. Pa ate a lot more but he pushed me to eat as much as possible. Sometimes he’d even get angry when I didn’t eat ‘enough’. I always wanted to make Pa proud, so I usually ate as much as he made me. My eighteenth year came. He said it was exactly on the full moon. Almost a year had passed by since the incident with Bahketh. I ignored most of the signs that his influence lingered. As long as Pa was healthy, I didn’t really care. One day, however, I asked Pa something he didn’t like at all. “Pa, doesn’t everyone from our clan marry young? I’m eighteen, and you have never told me to seek a woman.” I said. Pa looked over and quickly became serious as he responded flatly, “You don’t need anyone.” I was confused. I looked at him. He’d changed so much in the past year. His arms looked thicker than ever, the rivers of his veins popping out of his skin all over. I’d traded some clothing for Pa to wear but he seemed to only like the fur vests we would mend out of animals in the woods. They always seemed small around his barrel chest. Although he ate well, the only thing I could see on his body was lean. His abdomen seemed pulled in, tight like river stones collected neatly. I looked down at my own body. I’d changed too, but not nearly as much as he. My face scrunched up in confusion as to what Pa said. “Pa, are you sure? There’s no real way to keep our clan alive if I don’t marry, or if you don’t marry. You’re still young, I think you could. I wouldn’t get jealous of siblings, I’m a grown man anyway.” I said, trying to be positive. “You don’t need me, is that it?” Pa asked. “What? That’s now what I’m saying, Pa. Don’t you want to have more children?” I asked him. Pa lifted the handled stumps and huffed. He was drenched in sweat as usual. His hair had gotten very thick this spring, shiny with sweat. Often his skin would look red as he breathed in heavily to lift. “Pa?” I insisted. “What, Maker?! You don’t want me around, right?!” He yelled, throwing the stumps far. “Just do what you want! You’re obviously not my boy, you don’t need me anymore, that’s what you’re saying, yes?!” I was almost afraid. Not because I couldn’t defend myself, but because Pa had never been this angry. His great chest bounced up and down as he huffed. He seemed angry, but not just that. He seemed anguished. “Pa, you know I can’t do anything as good as you. You’re a better hunter. I’ll never find someone I can count on like you.” I said, almost shaking and not thinking about what I was saying. It was true, though. That was how I felt about my Pa. I remembered trying to figure out how old Pa was when the winter took our clan. He’d have been about sixteen when I went under his wing. My father was much older, I’d say. Pa always looked up to my real father- at least by the way he spoke of him. I figured it was an age difference. I tried to understand how lonely Pa must have been. “I’m sorry, Pa.” I said, wondering what he would do. I couldn’t see his face anymore as he’d went to pick up the weights. I almost trembled thinking he would become violent. He came back. I couldn’t see if it was sweat or tears covering his face, especially as he kept his head down. We didn’t talk much that night. Then I started to hear the noises at night. I’d made a few additions to the house now, so Pa and I could have some privacy. I started hearing noises coming from Pa’s room. I couldn’t tell what it was he was doing. I became afraid because I heard grunts and strange moans. Was Pa sick again?Pa started becoming really big. He made sure I ate as well, but his hunger for food was astonishing, if not amazing. He ate and ate until he practically fainted one night. I tried to help him up, but he just held me. There was a sadness in him that I did not know how to help. He also pushed me. I would feel very sore in the mornings after a night of freedom where we could lift for as long as we wanted. Not everything made sense of what he said about ‘lifting’, but he knew so much. Pa and I started a tradition of seeing our progress ‘growing’. I didn’t understand it, but it looked to be enjoyable to Pa. I thought it was fun too especially when I could show off my strength. Pa would show me how big he’d gotten in the week and then I’d do the same for him. We seemed to make great progress. I did something one night. I didn’t understand my body and felt pain in my groin. I thought of asking my Pa what to do even though it was very late in the night. The pain was keeping me awake. I went to his room and found nobody there. Quickly, I dressed myself and grabbed my bow. I’d become very fast since we’d started training ourselves for hunting. Even though I weight quite a bit more, I was sure I could find Pa quickly. I went by the river, close to the mouth. I became worried as the full moon shed its bright light upon the trees and mountain stone. My feet stepped quickly, noticing a smell that I somehow recognized as Pa’s. I’d learned to make soft –but durable- boots from fur and cloth and slipped into a shadow as I heard the rushing waters of the river grow. There Pa was. He kept complaining about the heat. It was now summer but the heat of the night was still nice and calm, so I didn’t understand. Pa splashed himself in the water and drank. He coughed as he drank. He was probably drinking so fast. He washed himself and relaxed, naked on the water’s edge. I’d never tried to pay attention to the body. Pa said it was a private affair for only a wife to see, once. I couldn’t help it as something in my chest pounded. Pa’s body seemed perfect. It seemed sculpted, massive, like stone. It seemed powerful, like the fires Bahketh had fed him. I felt the pain in my groin again. Pa stepped out and looked at small pool of water at the river’s side. I assume he was staring at his reflection. He lifted his arms and forced his muscle to push out, like a large rock pressed to escape his thin skin. He laughed and posed again, showing off his pectorals more than anything else. I guess by instinct I dropped my bow. My hands rubbed my own groin, as if I needed some release from there too. “So big.” Pa said. “I’m so fucking big.” I knew not what that word meant. I’d never heard it myself. Pa posed again and again. I saw something happen to his appendage. The leg appendage you call a phallus. It seemed to swell as he posed. I felt my heart race. “Look at how big you are. No normal man is this strong.” He moaned, rubbing his body. Every movement forced certain muscles awake. I know now what they are called. He grabbed the nubs men can’t use on his chest. I swallowed my breath, feeling aroused. Pa moaned loudly, his phallus bouncing. It looked like a large, red rod. His hands eventually moved around and grabbed onto his phallus. They wrapped around it like a large knife handle. His member was much larger than mine. I pulled mine out. I wanted to feel what Pa was feeling. His hands went up and down. I saw his big balls swinging around. I looked at mine and felt them. They felt tender, swollen. “I want more. I want to grow more!” Pa yelled, groaning as his hands moved up and down his rod. I copied, feeling a sensation I’d never felt before. I would say I had felt it before, but I’d never done such things to myself in those situations. I then could see something strange as my Pa turned sideways. He must’ve wanted to see his side but couldn’t see his wide back. Bahketh’s name shimmered in a way I assume was enough for someone to see from afar, but not without direct line of sight. Pa moaned as my chest’s beat pounded. I couldn’t take it anymore and spurt out seed. Almost right after, Pa moaned and pounded his rod. He exclaimed once more, “I want to be huge!” Pa didn’t take much longer and spurted seed too. He fell backward as his white liquid gushed out like a small torrent. It splattered everywhere. On the ground, his chest, his face even. I looked down and saw a large sum of seed on the ground as well. I didn’t have nearly enough to match Pa, but I thought there was so much, considering it was like a small puddle two feet away from me. I couldn’t stop from moaning as I felt pleasure in my body. My phallus didn’t feel painfully hard anymore and set down to rest. As I did this, Pa grabbed his bow. “Who goes there?” He said. I quickly recovered myself and went on my way. Pa was skilled, but he’d never track me. That night I got to the house and cleaned myself as best as I could. I was too tired to worry if I had done right, watching my own father do such things. Part III: BAHKETH Another year passed and the fall season came. Pa had gotten massive. He couldn’t walk normal as his legs seemed to get in each other’s way. I’d heard someone in the village say he was an ogre. Pa looked very rugged but maintained clean. I obtained a blade to shave with regularly and I did it for both of us. Pa asked me to shave his body too, even though it was very difficult. I followed suit because he once said muscles looked bigger that way. At least this way people wouldn’t say mean things like that. And Pa wouldn’t fight them… I didn’t seek a wife. I met a nice girl in the village once, but Pa quickly scared her away. I wasn’t very interested, but I was determined to keep our clan’s bloodline alive. One night Pa’s bed broke. It was one of the first pieces of furniture I made. He only laughed and said we should just share a bed. I disagreed as we both were far too big for a single bed. If one of us didn’t fall off, it’d surely meet the same doom his bed had met. I’d gotten very skilled using tools and made a better bed for Pa. I found mine broken (with obvious assumption as to how when Pa told me he might have taken a nap on it) but made no argument. It was just proof that I was a skilled craftsman if the bed didn’t break, right? I didn’t get much bigger since the year before, but Pa said I did great. I smiled often when he measured my growth. I was starting to wish to be as big as him. He would sometimes show off in the village. He picked up men in each arm and would curl them like he did our weights (Which, by the way, I had to replace with bigger ones…) and would pull great animal-sized carts with ease. Things took a turn for the worst at night. I started planting more things and did very well. I grew lots of cucumbers and started harvesting. I found one missing and eventually learned what Pa had done with it. On his usual ‘cooling’ nights when he’d get his terrible fevers, he played with the cucumber. He would push it inside of himself, moaning and making many noises that bothered me. I found myself spilling my seed as my needs asked for something I shouldn’t have wanted. I started wondering if that was what Pa wanted, and started experimenting myself. I went down to the village one day and made friends. They seemed to make fun of me for not understanding sex as well as them, but I think they feared me. I was very strong and known as Hunter Son. Maker Hunterson. They didn’t laugh at me in front of me. One of them brought a harlot along and had her spend time with me. I learned that I didn’t like what she had to offer. Pa became more verbal that fall. “Do you like my size, boy?” He said, very seriously once. “Yes, Pa. You know I do.” I said, laughing. We sat on the ground, cleaning beans. “I don’t think I can get any bigger. I want to be bigger. I want to always take care of you, lad.” He said, tossing my hair in his hand, as if I was a boy still. I felt like a boy, always smaller than him. “I doubt I will, though. I can only get older from here on.” I pondered a while on what he said. I found myself later walking through the cursed woods, holding my bow ready. I was stronger now, and I knew I didn’t have to be afraid. The Wise Woman taught me how to make holy items. I wasn’t good at it, unusually, but she said that the items would drive away evil spirits no matter what. I never told her what I was doing anything for, but I’m sure she knew something was going on long before I had. I stepped through the thick brush- thicker than I remembered. Pa would go hunting by himself. Said he wanted to find himself a bear. I felt sorry for the bear. I pushed back the thick green and saw the cave again. It’d been two years, maybe more. I stood in front of the cave. It had changed since I was there last. It looked cleaner, as if it were more of a temple. I slowly walked in and looked around. There was much lighter than before. The heat was heavier too, I could feel my chest breathe in humid air. The altar was much more well-kept now than ever in my memory. The statuette sat there, waiting for me. “Well, well, well…” huffed the spirit. “Hello, Bahketh. I greet you with respect.” I said. I wasn’t nervous. “I hope you do, but I really hope you greet me with more…” He whispered, rubbing my body with his unseen warmth. “I seek nothing, Bahketh. At least nothing for myself.” I said, pulling out a small bag. “What is that, young man? My, you’ve gotten so much bigger on your own, without my help. Well, direct help. Do you like that power?” He fizzled. I opened the bag and let out the contents. I had obtained a box of incense. It was very rare, I’d received it as a gift for helping the counsel of the village stop a pack of bandits with my father, from a prominent family’s daughter. Jewels dropped out, all from different mountains from afar. “There is something I want,” I managed to say before Bahketh interrupted. “I know what you want. Your father is a very strong man. But he wants more, yes?” Bahketh asked. “Yes, oh great one.” “Maker? Boy?” I heard from outside the cave. I turned around. Pa was there. He looked over at the altar and back at me. “What’s going on here?” He asked. “Where are we? I followed you because I was worried. Should I be worried?” “Pa! How did you follow me?” I asked, nervously. “I followed your smell –I mean- tracks.” He said. “Come, my acolyte.” Bahketh whispered. Pa walked slowly, without hesitation. “Your boy wants to make you bigger. Stronger. You want that, yes?” Bahketh asked. Pa stared at the statue before processing all the information. “Yes! That’s what I want! Wait- is this- is this how I’ve gotten so strong?! I’ve never felt this way in my entire life! It’s amazing! I feel so powerful!” Pa said. Bahketh laughed. “Your boy is no normal man. He is a Maker, just as his name states. He has the power to focus magic. You should thank him as much as you should thank me.” Pa looked over at me. I noticed the erection he was growing. He was practically glowing. “Your boy and I are also alike in other forms. He is benevolent, like me. He wants to make you even stronger.” Bahketh whispered. “Is that true, son? You can make me stronger? I want to be stronger, boy! I want to be the strongest!” Pa said, grabbing my arm. He then pulled me in and embraced me. I’d never felt the way he made me feel when he embraced me. “Well- Bahketh granted the wish. What do you want, oh Great Spirit?” I said, nervously. “I want your Pa to give me his name. But he can’t do it by himself, you need to give it to me.” Bahketh said. “I don’t understand.” I said. “Why don’t you ask your father?” Bahketh said with a grimace. I could see his smile in the fire of the altar. Pa looked nervous. I looked over to him and asked, “What does he mean?” It took him some time before responding. He seemed to think about it a bit before Bahketh complained loudly. He made the room burning hot. Pa finally answered. “Our clan gives up our names to the person we love the most. It’s a tradition we hold in the spring. I did it a few years ago for you. It’s usually something for marriage… But I have nobody, lad. I always have only had you.” He said. “And that means that he doesn’t own his own name. You do. The binds of your clan’s tradition make it so he can’t do anything. I will grant you this wish, if you want me to, but you have to give me his name.” “I-I don’t think I should be doing that!” I yelled. I still understood very little. I looked back and forth at both of them, skin red hot with embarrassment. “Boy, please! I want to be the strongest!” Pa said. He held me close, almost crushing me. He posed his arms and smiled before embracing me again. I desperately remember his embrace. “But Pa, I don’t want to make this decision for you! Why don’t you just take back your name?” I said, trying to pull out of his grasp. I didn’t want to, really. “I can’t do that, boy…” Pa said. He looked sad at me. I knew what he meant. He didn’t have to say it. “And that’s all, right? You’ll make him the strongest as long as you have his name?” I asked the flame spirit. “He’ll be as big and strong as he wants. All I need is his name.” Bahketh said. “Just say ‘I give thy true name away, Hunter, to the great spirit BAHKETH.” I breathed in heavily and held it in. “I give thy true name away, Hunter, to the great spirit BAHKETH.” I smiled at Pa and held his hand. I’d never held his hand, at least not to my memory as boy or man. I laid mine inside his one last time. Pa smiled back at me, with his big smile. “YES! FINALLY!” Bahketh screamed. The statuette fell to the side and cracked. Out came the flame and grabbed onto my papa’s face. A shockwave sent me flying. Bahketh’s cackle filled echoed on and on. The flamed disappeared as it went into my pa’s mouth. “Pa?” I grumbled, rubbing my neck. “I don’t feel much different,” Pa said, looking back at me. He then screamed and held his stomach. “Oh… Oh! It burns! Gah! It burns!” Pa screamed. He trembled as his skin went red hot. He fell to his knees as he screamed again. His hands grabbed his head as he howled. Pa’s forehead quickly pushed out two small horns, little points that poked under his long hair. The mark on his back began to spread its ink, like a black flower. It covered his chest and upper legs, like vines around to his neck. Pa then began to moan. He seemed to stay alive and well even if the flames came alive on him. At first I saw his arms shake. His shoulders widened and found more space close to Pa’s neck. He growled as his arms weighed heavy with swelling muscle- it looked like a pumpkin was stuffed under his skin on both sides. His hands, however big they were, seemed very small as his arms trembled. I tried to come closer and even shot an arrow at the altar in hopes of distracting (and maybe stopping) Bahketh. The arrow evaporated in flame quickly before reaching the altar and I felt the singe of the fires myself a few steps in. I could not get close as my pa’s arms moved up from the pushing of his enlarging back. He looked like an hourglass as the sides of his midsection popped out like small wings. “Bigger! I want to be bigger! It feels so good!” I pulled out my crude amulets in hopes to use them against the foul spirit. Bahketh cackled the moment I pulled them out. They crumbled in my hands. My eyes let out tears as I saw father’s stance widen. His legs had become thicker than many young trees of the forest. They looked denser too. His abdomen cracked as the bricks on his abdomen pushed outward. I started feeling the warmth in my groin again, in shame. Pa’s close tore as his chest exploded outward along with his legs. “So good! So fucking strong!” Pa said, flexing his body as he grew. His rod pushed out from the burning clothes, swelling up in a size I could never imagine fitting a normal human. It looked thicker than my forearm. Somehow it lifted upward even with the massive weights that were under it, both sized like many fruits from the garden. It simply bobbed up and down and trickled seed onto the ground. Pa thoroughly enjoyed what was happening, even though his head seemed to be being swallowed by his massive body. Bahketh laughed and let the fires die down as my father started fondling himself. Pa’s chest had stretched out his nipples like coins, yet grown them outward to large nubs that he moaned when played with. I breathed heavily as I tried to remain capable of clear thought. Bahketh whispered terrible things in my ears, caressing my body in a softer heat. He tempted me. Pa stroked himself as his height increased to accommodate his growth. I’d say he was about eight feet tall at the end of the ordeal, but I couldn’t keep track of such things. He moaned and yelled out in a thick, deep voice. It was deeper than before, like the growl of a beast in the woods. My pa could no longer contain himself and spewed outward, shooting far into the air and away from where he stood. It came like a river of white, splashing and somehow not evaporating from the embers that had dwindled with the ending growth. I felt myself wet inside my gear, but not from fear and piss, but longing. I longed for my pa’s massive body to touch me. “Foolish boy! Do you know who I am?!” Bahketh finally exclaimed. His voice seemed to cover my pa’s. Pa’s eyes themselves had gone white. “I am BAHKETH! Efreeti of Lust, Fire, and Strength! Genie of Smolder and Ecstasy! The pinnacle of all flames! None are stronger than I! I fell from grace, but now I will return to the material world I was once barred from, so full of delicious pleasures! All thanks to you, my boy! Or should I say, my son?” I felt my heart sink deeper than I will ever remember. I understood what Bahketh had done. The statuette lifted into the air and cracked, letting out a small tear in time-and-space open. Now I know what had happened. I saw Bahketh’s truest form. It barely peered into our world as he commanded Pa to walk over to me. I stood there, afraid and aroused. Pa walked up to me. He was not Pa anymore, but not Bahketh. He grabbed me and squeezed me in his palms. I thought he would kill me but he simply tore off my clothes. The possessed man pushed me onto his skin, letting me feel the mass. I felt Pa’s massive chest, rock solid and burning hot. He forced my mouth open to taste Pa’s stone-like abdomen. I felt a shameful delight as my phallus hardened in its own rock-like density. The possessed Pa licked my own body, tasting different parts and biting where he saw fit. My neck, my buttocks, my sides. He bit hard enough to hurt, but not enough to pierce through. I closed my eyes in hopes of living, in hopes of forgiveness should my pa come to his senses. “Tell me you like my mass, boy.” Pa said, deep and slow. “N-no, Pa… Please… Stop this… We can get away…” “Feel these arms. Feel how strong and powerful they are.” I couldn’t hold on and finally whispered, “…It’s amazing, Pa.” "Do you want to be crushed between these great legs?" He said, forcing my hands onto them. I felt their density on my fingers. My chest couldn't contain the energy I received from the arousal. "You're gigantic, Pa..." I said, moving my hands around on the striations. Pa’s mouth landed on mine. I couldn’t stop myself and tasted the inside. It was somehow sweet, like fresh fruit cooked in a warm fire, yet different. His tongue played around with mine, long enough to touch the insides of my throat. I thought I’d choke but I only moaned. Pa held me in the air with ease as he did this, finally letting me feel his massive rod touch me. His tongue licked mine. I whimpered at the amazing sensation. He fit mine in his mouth and suckled as he lifted my legs over his shoulders. I moaned and felt the ecstasy wisp me away. Pa pulled me out of his mouth and then licked elsewhere. I feel great shame for he licked me in an awful place. It felt so pleasurable, it bothers me today. His tongue pierced through and played around inside me. I finally understood why Pa liked to do this to himself. Pa finally pulled me down to his own throbbing member and pushed my mouth on it. It was literally too big to fit inside, but he was gentle. He simply growled, “Lick it, boy. Satisfy your papa.” And I followed suit. He moaned quickly and played with my body as well as his own. He pushed his hands over mine so I could feel his massive legs while I licked. I was lost. I had no congruent thought. “I curse you, Maker Hunterson. I curse you to lust as badly as your father did, every night thinking of giving your own name to me…” Bahketh whispered under my pa’s voice. I looked up and saw the black tear that dripped from Pa’s eye. He smiled still as the tear dripped away and evaporated on the burning ground. Pa came again. He drenched me in seed, cooked like milk in the winter morning. I opened my mouth and swallowed what I could. It tasted like honey. I moaned and came as well, whimpering as the sensation squeezed my groin tighter than ever. It hurt as it tightened out every last drop inside me. I heard the voice in the window cackle. A colossal arm -both muscular and bigger than even Pa’s- smashed through. The voice growled loudly in its own beastly form as another arm stretched the doorway out. I could see Bahketh’s smoldering orange eyes. His name burned on my arm, unfinished but obviously his. I screamed in pain as it burned to the bone. Bahketh laughed and petted my papa. “My acolyte. You shall walk the earth, spreading my name in the shadows. When the time has come I shall become a glorious god as I so deserve.” Bahketh said, voice booming. It was certainly not a whisper anymore. Pa turned as the seed forced me to change slowly. I fell to the ground as my body became led. Pa walked towards the door and bowed. “Yes, master.” He said. “But now, you shall enjoy true paradise. Come to me, my acolyte. Enter the plane of Lust, where my flaming abode hides. Our enemies have been winning for so long, and we must plan… We must rejoice your coming home. I shall soon take even the planes of the Abyss and Heaven as my own.” The portal stretched even more so. Bahketh’s face smiled with teeth like a monster’s. His red skin burned with embers and eldritch-orange symbols. He caressed my pa as he walked into the burning doorway. I could only whisper my Pa’s name before I began sensing the loss of it in my existence. I felt my bones push and break as my body grew when Pa looked back at me once more. I still think the pain was worse in my heart than it was in my body. I would have screamed as the door closed, leaving the cave steaming and alone. I lay, growing slowly and painfully. I could feel everything; the bones cracking, the muscle tearing. All of it, before the growth rebuilt me. It felt pleasurable underneath the pain. To this day I want more, in secret shame. I felt my arms swell and my neck become thick. My legs felt like pillars in a temple, heavy as well. My eyes opened as I saw the thunder rolled in the night sky. I got up very slowly, trying to move with the new size. I looked at my body, remembering what my Pa’s looked like. I would certainly be a weaker scout now, but that was fine. I needed to become a warrior. I needed to find a way to defeat the foul genie, Bahketh. I stumbled around, learning how to use the self-obtrusive legs I had just obtained. My groin felt heavy already with seed as I looked down at a massive member that swung from side to side. I didn’t get far before having to release. I met the Wise Woman in the dark. She said my voice had become even deeper. The rain helped conceal me. I begged her for advice. The Wise Woman told me this was certainly beyond her power. I cried in agony. She gave me a pendant that had been passed down to her. It carried the symbol of an ancient people. She said that the mountains hid a strange prison whose lock was now broken beyond repair. I asked for her forgiveness. The Wise Woman said nothing. I learned later I had been fated to release the burning djinn long before. Her people had dwindled (ironically like mine) and hid amongst the village. They were prepared to end their bloodline. I prepared to end mine. The pendant was to help me find someone who could battle the bastard, but that was the only help the Wise Woman gave me. I returned to the house and packed what I could. I packed extra to head to the village and trade. Nobody recognized me in the darkness of the rain and night. I quickly obtained a sword and things a traveler could use. I gave up my tools. I was no longer a maker. I was no longer anyone. I write in this journal, hoping that if I should fail, someone finds it. I can feel Bahketh’s whispers at night. I can feel his hands toying with me. I know the knowledge to give him my being is hidden in the dark depths of my mind. Every day is a struggle. I want that power and strength. I beg the spirits of the land –the only few benevolent left- that they guide me to death before my mind finds destruction. But who knows, deep down, I want Bahketh to grow me as much as he can. End? Author End Note: I thank you very much for reading my work. Please suggest themes that you think would be interesting, or tell me what you thought could use work through a comment! I sincerely hope you liked it.
  12. momoware

    FANTASY FUTURE MUSCLE Chapter 2

    NB- I've put a "weird" tag. on this and I should warn in advance there's a few very unique but overall very unusual feature of this series that I've written- it involves bodybuilders being able to impregnate each other with clones. It really gets me off, but if the idea grosses you out, you've been warned! There's one or two violent sex scenes in this chapter too. _________ David Wyman, the larger of the two American competitors was visibly relieved to hear this and grabbed his huge balls prior to removing his speedo. His balls then hung almost his knees, and his gigantic cock two or three inches past as he waited for his fellow competitors to do the same. Chen Xiao's speedo was simply torn off by his rapidly expanding cock, whereas Martin, still flaccid, had to tweak his nipples for a moment in order to cause the groundbreaking boner that caused his trunks to fly into the audience in three pieces. I too was naked at this point, having soiled my trunks with semen, gradually the whole auditorium removed all of its clothes, creating an incredible smell that made the air feel heavy and wet. The eight men stood now fully naked, before a room of naked bodybuilders, eagerly waiting the orgy that was coming up next, the Domination Round. This round, in contrast to the previous one that awarded aesthetics, instead awards strength and brute power. Each competitor faces their opponents in a series of head to head wrestling matches. Pinning your opponent to the ground is awarded with 2 points, penetrating him anally with 5 points and reaching full climax whilst still in control 10 extra points. What made this round so bizarre but also amazingly erotic was that due to the genetic enhancements that these men received, they were capable of producing all the necessary hormones to deposit a fertilized egg, and whenever the loser of one of these bouts was fucked up the ass, they would become impregnated with a pygmy muscleman, who would grow to adulthood in their ball sack over around an hour and be born at full sexual maturity in a monstrous pool of ejaculate on stage. In the audience around me I saw five or six of what I assumed to be Wyman's muscle progeny- identical to him in every way except their size and the fact that they had no speech capabilities or free will, they were giant muscle robots in effect, who would continue growing indefinitely, unlike their father. Wyman, the American I mentioned earlier, had won this round the previous year with 109 points and his cock and arrogant smirk buzzed full of excitement for this round. His first bout saw him face Jean Marie de Villiers, who at 710 pounds was much smaller than Wyman, and his fear showed. They stood on two 'x's six feet way from one another- the distance was just enough that when Wyman stretched out his massive arm, the Frenchman was just out of reach. Wyman was the biggest man in the contest (although Mustafa al-Asghari, his fellow American was roughly the same weight but one or two inches shorter) at 970 pounds and 8'7, but whilst this section of the competition was a sure win for him the earlier posing rounds did not always score him highly as during the run up to competition he would sacrifice form and muscle definition for gaining extreme size with massive rations of food and of course, his growth hormone that was obtained by a special pharmacological unit from bull elephant seals. As I watched him standing on the spot, ready to jump the Frenchman, I could certainly see elements of the bull seal in him, he panted and drooled from his gigantic chiseled jaw all the way down his rock hard sculpted body as his entire being shook maniacally waiting for the whistle to sound . And the whistle sounded. Wyman leapt towards Jean Marie, who jumped several meters in the air, sending the American tumbling over the stage. As the Frenchman landed he seemed pleased with himself; however this greatly angered Wyman, who picked himself up off the ground and stormed over to Jean Marie, making the whole auditorium shake as his size 32 feet pounded the ground. He stopped just short of the Frenchman and roared intimidatingly down at him, the two feet that separated their eyelines seeming like the gap between a giant and an infant. "YOU DON'T MAKE ME LOOK LIKE A FOOL YOU LITTLE FRENCH CUNT! I'M GONNA RAPE YOU GOOD BOY! YOU'LL SEE, AND WHEN MY LITTLE BOY COMES CRAWLING OUT OF YOUR NADS, I'M GONNA TEACH HIM HOW TO FUCK A LITTLE RUNT LIKE YOU TOO!" The poor Frenchman had no recourse, he stood glued to the spot waiting for the onslaught. Wyman bent down and grabbed his huge balls in his even bigger hand and lifted him above the ground before slamming him down viciously. "Two points!" Yelled the tanoy He then put one arm round each side and flipped him over, then used his two index fingers to spread apart his buttocks, spitting into the tight hole, and then onto his monstrous cock before thrusting the giant pole inside the black void. "Five points!" "You know what I'm gonna do boy?" Wyman whispered into Jean Marie's ear whilst fucking him, "I'm gonna squeeze out my biggest, strongest spunk to make sure that you end up carrying my biggest, fiercest muscle baby ever. He'll rip your little cock apart when he comes out, I swear, YOU'LL. REGRET. HUMILIATING.ME!" As he sad those last four words he stopped fucking so regularly, and delivered four final gigantic pummeling thrusts, as his giant balls pumped cum into the Frenchman’s exhausted ass he cried tears of pain and fear, and when Wyman pulled his cock out, the Frenchman simply collapsed and had to be removed from the stage, litres of thick smelly semen leaking from his devastated hole. "Wyman with the full seventeen points!" I was fascinated now to watch the Frenchman from this point, as I had never witnessed a "birth" yet. He was taken over to an area with hammocks in place of chairs (there was no way he would be able to sit down for quite a few days after the pounding he received from Wyman. He lay down starting to recover from the pain of the fucking, but mentally preparing himself for the pain of a small bodybuilder erupting from his cock in the coming hour. His ballsack had expanded, and in between his drooping testicles a third round lump had formed, about two feet in diameter and it was bulging and stretching aggressively. Wyman had promised that this would be one of his most impressive muscle offspring, and I was on the edge of my seat waiting to see what it was like. In order to make sure that the loser of the bouts in the domination round did not suffer serious injury in the competition, it was winner stays on, and Wyman was looking forward to taking on the remaining six. Chen Xiao was next, seventeen points to Wyman, followed by Mustafa, who in spite of being similar in stature was no match in strength, seventeen. Then came Martin van Santen, my gorgeous little man, and I felt for the first time fear and concern over the wellbeing of a competitor. I didn't want to see him impaled on a monster dick, howling in pain whilst the giant American degraded him. Sadly though within moments he had obtained the first two points for pinning Martin to the ground. Whilst on the ground though, Martin surprised the entire audience and delivered a powerful kick with both gigantic legs into Wyman's chest, throwing him 80 feet across the stage, to land on his back. Nothing like this had ever been seen before. "Now, two points to van Santen!" Turned on and motivated once more by the sheer power his legs had demonstrated, van Santen leapt up to his feet and stormed over to Wyman who was lying in pain, having landed on a pile of chairs that broke his fall but left his stomach and back badly bruised. He stamped on the American giant's stomach, causing him to cough up a small amount of blood onto the stage, and then with the same foot he rolled over Wyman’s body so that he was facing the floor, and then grabbed the hair on the back of his head, lifted him slightly off the ground (which was a challenge for the smaller, shorter Argentinian) and jammed his cock into the waiting ass. He made sure to finish quickly as he did not want the American to regain his strength and turn on him. With a resounding howl, he ejaculated and let Wyman fall to the ground, to be taken, unconscious, over to the hammocks. It was the first time that Wyman's ass had ever been penetrated. The contest stopped then for a break, as it had been around an hour since the domination round began and Jean Marie, Chen Xiao and Mustafa were expected within moments to be birthing Wyman's gargantuan kids. Whilst Chen Xiao and Mustafa were carrying a three foot wide spherical pouch in their ballsacks, poor Jean Marie looked like he was about to give birth to a full grown man, the lump had grown and was now six feet long and standing upright. Even through the scrotum you could see the embryonic bodybuilder flexing his giant, ripped muscles. In order to end the torment of having this giant growth in his system, Jean Marie began pumping his massive cock shaft with great gusto. Some assistants brought over buckets of lube to help the situation as well as to stimulate the huge balls and Wyman's muscle child. Gradually the large, elongated lump in the ballsack began to ascend, and Jean Marie screamed in pain and pleasure as his dick widened enormously to squeeze out the giant, and with one more tremendous push he ejaculated spectacularly all over the stage and well into the front rows of the audience. No less than two hundred litres of semen flooded the stage and as it began to become less and less, his dick hole expanded to several feet wide to squeeze out a full grown muscle beast that emerged covered in sticky fluid, strutting around the stage, consuming the semen from all over his massive body and picking up gloopy handfuls from the floor and ingesting it. The semen he ate ravenously made him increasingly aggressive, it compounded the high level of bull hormones in his already testosterone pumped up blood. He roared and bellowed louder than any human ever had before, and he flexed his gigantic muscles in a virile display of aggression. Whilst his father and the their competitors were shaved and tanned for competition, this muscle "baby" was not prepared in such a way, his entire body was covered in thick, black glossy hair, unsurprising for someone with such high levels of male hormones guaranteed by his parentage. He marched across the stage, growing almost an inch in height with each footstep (Wyman watched in awe, impressed by the potency of his own man juice) and when he reached the wall he punched a hole in the concrete and began fucking is hole in order to satisfy his carnal urges. Each thrust was accompanied by deep roars as well as rapid growth spurts, until he finally reached climax and screamed, pulling his cock out of the wall, he turned to the audience with his hands held either side of his head and spewed gallons of warm cum onto the stage. The entire room was left speechless by this monster, who now stood two whole feet taller than his father. Wyman however had nothing to fear- the muscle babies always deferred to their fathers, and the American wandered onto the cum-covered stage, still sore from his fucking from Martin and caressed his giant child. "Hey there big fella, I'm your daddy!" He said affectionately, rubbing the giant’s big hairy chest and making his six inch nipples stand erect to attention. He wiped some semen off his newborn son's chest and used it as lube to start massaging his own cock as the muscle baby watched. His was now the second biggest cock in the room, now standing erect two or three inches away from his eyes. He pumped the six foot long shaft repeatedly until he reached the point of climax and erupted a third batch of cum onto the stage. His humongous balls shuddered as they pumped four hundred litres of spunk out in a steady thick stream that hit the roof of the auditorium and splashed in every corner, followed by the birth of Martin's considerably smaller muscle baby that Wyman caught in his arms and placed on the ground. Three feet tall and two feet wide, covered from head to toe in thick rippling muscle that spasmed uncontrollably as he flexed and wandered around, gathering his bearings. He grew at a similar rate to the muscle baby that came before, although he was much less hairy and his growth slowed down after he surpassed about six feet. In the next five minutes both Mustafa and Chen Xiao expelled Wyman's two remaining muscle babies, who were equally hairy but thankfully for their hosts smaller and less painful than the beast that Jean Marie had popped out. The domination round recommenced, this time on a stage that was no less than two feet deep in huge bodybuilder cum. One hour later another break was taken to expel the new round of muscle babies. Several hours later, the domination round had come to an end and the ritual of bringing out the muscle babies began.
  13. NYCBlackMuscle

    The Bug: Mehmet

    Part 3 of this story. Arpeejay commented on the last installment that the viewpoint of the narrator can be a bit confusing at times. My apologies for that - I like to mess around with perspective but hopefully all the clues one needs as to who's talking are in there somewhere. Let me know if that's not the case and as always please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2014 by [email protected] Part 1 - The Bug: Rory Part 2 - The Bug: Lenny Part 3 The Bug: Mehmet I could think again. The overpowering rush of desire and lust was over, though it had taken a good four hours to work through it. This was only the third time it had happened but like the others while I was in it I became a prisoner of this big new body I’d be given. A willing prisoner perhaps, since I’d totally enjoyed it, but there was still a part of me, a small part, that resented being bossed around by my dick. In Mehmet’s bathroom mirror I could see my face, strikingly handsome even now with sweaty hair framing it. I’d never had a problem picking up guys before, not since I carved out my niche here in the city, but I was in a different league these days. I was a very big, very badass motherfucker who could get any guy I wanted. I’d been this way for about two months though I’d only fucked around three times in that period. I washed my face and then gargled some mouthwash, cherry flavor. Who the hell buys cherry flavored mouthwash? Must be a Turkish thing. Turning sideways I slid out of the bathroom, through his small dressing room and back into the bedroom. Mehmet was sitting naked in the bed watching me with big eyes. “What did you mean by that, Lenny?” he asked in a too quiet voice. “Huh?” I sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed my shorts, bunching up one leg to start the laborious process of getting them up over my thighs. “You said I was going be like you.” I swear my fuckin’ legs are still growing. The shorts seemed to catch further down on my quads than they had before. Man, size is great and all but it’s hell trying to keep up with clothing. “Lenny?” “Oh yeah, I mean you’ll prolly get the same thing from me that I got from my buddy Rory. All this.” Then I shrugged my shoulders and arms and chest. He got the idea. “That’s how you got so big? You weren’t like this a couple months ago, the first time we met.” “Nope,” I agreed, snagging one of my sandals with my foot. “It all started just about then, but him first then me.” I stood up and began to pull on my shirt, another tough task. “And maybe you next, that’s all I’m saying.” My head popped through the neck of the shirt and I could see him again. He looked scared, like he’d just gotten bad news from the doctor. I felt for him – I’d been there myself not too long before – but I knew it would pass. He’d get into it. “So how big are you,” he was asking but with an expression that said he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I was a little over 280 on Thursday.” I didn’t mention my expanding thighs. “No,” he groaned. ”I can’t get that big. I couldn’t explain it at work. Or to my family – they’d never understand.” His voice was rising. “Hey.” I let my own voice, deeper now than it had ever been, drop a notch. He shut up immediately. “Relax,” I ordered. “Maybe you have nothing to worry about. Maybe this was all just a crazy fuck you can tell your friends about over brunch.” I was lying but he didn’t know that. I’d seen the other two guys I messed around with so I knew what was going to happen. Plus Rory and I talked about it when we ran into each other few days earlier at a club uptown. When the feeling came on we fucked – nothing stopped us – and the guy we fucked ended up like us in a few weeks, like it or not. Mehmet was in for a big, wild-ass ride and it didn’t matter how work or family or anyone else felt about it. Hell, it didn’t even matter how he felt about it. But like I said, I understood what he was going through. I bent down and gave him a long slow kiss and wasn’t surprised to notice his dick start to harden between his legs. When the kiss ended I held his chin and tried to give him a big-brother type look. I have no idea if it actually came across that way. “You’re gonna be fine,” I said, “no matter what happens. Trust me.” And because he had no choice he nodded in agreement, desperation shining in his eyes, the poor little fuck. Mehmet stayed in for the rest of the night, trying to forget what happened that day but that proved difficult given that his apartment reeked of Lenny. Each time the huge man came to mind a picture of their sweaty bodies joined together would flash through his brain and he would squeeze his eyes shut, trying vainly to erase the thought and feel of the man. It was impossible. On top of that he was ravenous which wasn’t surprising considering what he and Lenny had been up to for three or four hours. He resisted eating, though, thinking that the big man’s unbelievable prediction that he would grow huge couldn’t come true if he stopped eating. Well, maybe not stop completely since that would simply result in starvation but he could limit his intake and fight whatever it was Lenny and his friend Rory had somehow caught. By 1 AM, surrounded by the remains of a late night dash to a diner around the corner for the largest takeout order he’d ever made, Mehmet realized it was not going to be as easy as he hoped. At least the painful contractions of his stomach were gone and he was able to sleep. He’d come up with a new plan in the morning. And he would have made a new plan but he overslept and barely had enough time to throw on some clothes and run out the door to get to work on time. It was a crazy Monday at the bank and despite his initial concerns that whatever happened to Lenny would happen to him he was soon fixated on work and only had an occasional moment to think about the previous afternoon. When lunchtime came he was certainly hungry but not in a crazy way and by the time Monday evening came he pretty much decided that his fears were overblown. It should have been impossible to make the kind of muscle gains Lenny made in such a short period of time but who knew what weird steroids were available these days. Mehmet had no interest in such things so he’d never looked into them but it wouldn’t be surprising if there was something out there that blew you up temporarily or caused you to retain massive amounts of water. Plus there was that synthol stuff that people injected. For all he knew Lenny could have been carrying around enough oil to deep fry köfte. By the time he headed home after his long day Mehmet wasn’t so concerned about morphing into some kind of muscled hulk. Instead he was remembering the amazingly hot sex he and Lenny had. In a way it was embarrassing since he was such a committed top but there was no way Mehmet could deny the lust and passion he’d felt when 280 pounds of muscle was pulverizing his tight hole. The memory was powerful enough that he had to shift his briefcase in front of his groin as he walked the crowded streets of the financial district on his way to the train. Displaying an obvious erection outside the stock exchange was hardly the way to climb the corporate ladder. When he got home he downed a protein drink and got ready for the gym but on his way out the door stopped and started looking around his desk. He had a distinct memory of Lenny writing down his number on a handy pad of paper after they finished their lunchtime fuck a few months before but he couldn’t find it now. Mehmet could only frown in frustration that he neglected to transfer the number to his phone when he had the chance. Lenny just didn’t seem very important at the time. If nothing else the memory of the new huge Lenny (however he’d gotten that way) made Mehmet work extra hard at the gym that night. Yeah the sex had been hot but it wasn’t like he was going to turn into some kind of super bottom because of it. He lifted hard and heavy and ended up with a great looking pump. It must have been great because he got looks from a lot of different guys that night, and as the workout continued he found himself returning some of the predatory looks that came his way. In the end it came down to a red-headed go-go boy he once saw dancing on the bar at Roundhouse and this black dude who entered the gym in a very modern English suit but hit the gym floor in a pair of tight nylon running shorts that barely covered his curvaceous ass. Feeling much more like his old self Mehmet chose the running shorts. In a few days Lenny was just a hot memory that came to mind at odd times when he was working or at the gym or out with friends. Mehmet kept an eye out for him but never saw him at any of the bars or clubs he went to. Once he saw a big, built guy walking towards him down Empire Avenue that from a distance looked like Lenny, but on closer inspection it was just a very well built stranger. Mehmet stared the guy down as they passed each other but the big man was focused on a blonde model dude at his side and didn’t notice. Mehmet managed to live a kind of fantasy for week before reality intervened and let him know he hadn’t avoided Lenny’s prediction. There was a scale in his bathroom which was always a bit dusty because he never bothered using it, preferring to gauge his fitness by what he saw in the mirror. He’d caught site of it there in the corner after his second encounter with Lenny and laughed to himself, vowing he wouldn’t give into paranoia by weighing himself now. But a week later he was starting to have doubts as his gym workouts became more and more intense and his work clothes started feeling strangely tight. One morning, after wrestling to close the top button on a dress shirt (the match ended when the button went flying off behind the radiator), Mehmet took a deep breath and stepped on the scale, more to disprove his fears than confirm them. Only they were confirmed – he was at 194 pounds and he was pretty damn sure he’d been about 185 for the entire summer. The view in the mirror agreed with the scale even though he’d been trying to ignore the warnings in the back of his mind. He definitely looked bigger and fuller, but tighter as well, more ripped than normal. He was pretty sure his waist had gone down some, maybe even an inch, and it was only 31 before. He sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands wondering what to do. Logically he should cut out the gym but that seemed so drastic. It was the anchor of his life, in all honesty, and had been ever since he first had sex with another guy. Why should he have to give it up? “So you don’t become some kind of freak,” he quietly told himself. He didn’t wear a tie to work that day, lying to his boss about a coffee mishap on the way to work. At lunchtime bought a new tie and a bigger shirt but delayed pricing new suits. They might just be a waste of money if he continued growing. When he got back to the office he called and made an appointment with his doctor. The receptionist told him they didn’t have an opening until the end of the week. On Friday he sat in his underwear on the examining table at the doctor’s office, half frustrated but half gratified. He’d done his best all week to scale back on his workouts but once in the gym it proved impossible. He had so much energy and such a need to move weight that he always ended up killing each workout. He was lifting heavier weight every day and scarfing down more and more calories afterwards in an attempt to fill the bottomless pit that was his stomach. His inability to turn off this new-found energy caused the frustration but he couldn’t fight the excitement he felt every time he looked in the mirror and saw the expanding width of his torso or the increased mass in his thighs. Strangely, it didn’t seem to be translating into a higher sex drive. He’d hooked up with that black guy the day after Lenny but since then he hadn’t really had the urge to fuck around again even though the signals he was getting at the gym, on the street and on the subway were increasingly brazen. Some of the guys signaling were fucking hot, he could see that, but he hadn’t felt the need to play with any of them. Not that his dick wasn’t up and ready – it was half hard most of the time and when at full mast he could see changes there too which was yet another thing that flat out impossible. “Hello, Mehmet,” a voice said interrupting his thoughts. “It’s nice to see you again.” Dr. Lovejoy stepped through the examining room doorway and shut it behind him. When he finally got insurance a few years back Mehmet had insisted on finding a gay doctor and a friend told him that Ken Lovejoy was the man to see. He was a great doctor but also hot as hell even if he was happily married to a popular gay dentist. The couple lived in Kensington and partied at circuit events around the world when they weren’t seeing patients in the city. Mehmet had been lucky to find a place on the doctor’s roster of patients. Mehmet smiled in response to Lovejoy’s greeting and managed a quiet hello in response. He’d seen the doctor a couple times a year for a while now but suddenly he took a fresh look at the man. Short brown hair, wide dark eyes and beautiful lips – fuck, Lovejoy really was a handsome guy, wasn’t he. The white lab coat he wore with a navy blue polo shirt underneath did nothing to hide that the doctor kept himself in good shape. No, excellent shape. “Wow, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it,” Lovejoy said as he gave Mehmet a slow up and down look. “You’ve really bulked up. Looks great.” He offered a bright smile and looked down at the chart he’d been given by his staff. “It’s time for us to update some basic info which is why they ask you to strip down. Why don’t you step over here and we’ll get through that before we talk about why you’ve come in.” He motioned Mehmet over to a scale and then fiddled with the weight bar when he stepped on. “209.4,” he muttered while updating the chart. He checked Mehmet’s height as well but that hadn’t changed. The patient didn’t say anything while this was going on and instead continued to study the good doctor. When had Ken Lovejoy gotten so fucking sexy? He’d always been hot but damn, right now he looked good enough to eat. Mehmet could feel his dick hardening in his briefs but found he didn’t care. It was a natural reaction; the doctor must have seen it a million times before. “So what’s up?” Lovejoy finally asked when the basics were out of the way and they were seated again, Mehmet on the examining table and Lovejoy in a nearby chair. “I’ve put on a lot of weight lately and I just wanted to be sure everything was OK,” Mehmet said smoothly, his eyes fixed on the other man’s. He’d come here to get medical help but suddenly that seemed irrelevant. All he could think about right now was what the doctor looked like under his clothes. “You’ve gained more than thirty pounds since your last visit,” the doctor said giving Mehmet a firm but understanding look. “Do you want to tell me what you’re on?” Mehmet spread his hands in a mute denial of the doctor’s accusation and was gratified to see Lovejoy’s eyes drop down to his chest and widening lats. “Uh, well, all I can say is that if you want me to provide you with guidance you’ve got to be honest with me. That’s not natural weight gain, we both know that.” “I’m not taking anything,” Mehmet replied, “and that’s the truth. It’s crazy but I’m growing everywhere.” He emphasized the last word and was once again gratified to see Lovejoy’s eyes drop down, this time to his groin where his dick was harder than it had been in a couple weeks. The doctor’s eyes widened Mehmet hopped off the table and quickly slid off his briefs. “Jesus,” Ken breathed and stared at his patient’s throbbing dick a moment before quickly turning his head to check that the door was still closed. Then, in a flustered voice, “Put your underwear back on.” “Don’t you want to examine me?” Mehmet asked in a low growl and Lovejoy looked up in surprise at the change in his patient’s demeanor. Mehmet had a plan when he came here, a hope that the doctor could help him find some way to slow and eventually stop the changes happening to his body. Maybe not right away, but that was only because he’d come to realize that a little more size wasn’t a huge problem. In the days since he made the appointment he decided that 215 pounds was as far as he could realistically go without getting too many questions at work or from his family. Yeah, 215 at the most. Only right now that didn’t seem very important. No, what was really important was getting a look a Lovejoy in the buff. Mehmet was starting to feel the buzz he’d been feeling in the gym the last couple weeks, that sense of strength and purpose only right now there weren’t any weights to work on. The doc would have to fill in this time and maybe afterwards they could talk about how to keep him below 225. Maybe 230. The doctor gulped at the look in Mehmet’s eyes and jumped to his feet. He could have made a break for the door then but instead he stood rooted to the ground as his patient stepped up and put his hands in the opening at the top of his lab coat, pulling down hard so that the buttons went flying and it opened wide to display his chest under the tight shirt below. “Mehmet, we can’t do this,” he gasped, belatedly moving backwards until he was pressed up against a nearby cabinet. “I’m your physician and-.” They both knew that fact so it wasn’t any great loss when Mehmet silenced him with a deep kiss, his tongue forcing its way deep into the doctor’s mouth. Ken halfheartedly resisted but within a few seconds he was grappling back, his hands grabbing at the other man’s broad, naked back pulling him in closer. Mehmet’s rock hard dick was sandwich between their stomachs, leaking onto the blue polo shirt until it too was pulled off and discarded into the growing heap of clothing in the corner. Outside in the doctor’s office a nurse walking by the examination room stopped when he heard a strange sound. He paused and listened for a moment before raising his hand to knock on the door. Another muffled sound made him reconsider and then slowly lower his hand. He shook his head and continued on down the corridor. The calendar said fall but the weather still felt like summer so the piers were crowded as Lenny strolled across Riverside Highway and into the throngs gathered in the clean, new parks recently constructed near the bay. People turned and stared as he ambled by in nothing but a pair of very tight basketball shorts and unlaced basketball shoes. He’d just tried out a new gym a few blocks away and though there were signs posted mandating proper workout attire no one had the nerve to approach a 300+ pound mass of muscle to tell him he should be wearing a shirt. The workout went well even if the weights were a bit on the light side. He walked by the water, idly watching the crowd but not bothering to return the eager looks coming at him from all sides. He’d screwed a Chinese food delivery guy just a couple nights earlier and didn’t feel the need to hook up again. It would probably be another couple weeks before he felt the urge and when it happened it’d undoubtedly be as surprising to him as it was to whomever he selected. The delivery guy certainly hadn’t expected the tip he’d gotten. Glancing at an expense of grass beside the path where he was walking Lenny caught site of a very large, swarthy man in a yellow speedo sunning himself on a blanket. A wide smile spread across his face and he walked over, standing so he blocked the sun falling on the reclining form. The guy on the ground shielded his eyes as he looked up and then started chuckling when he saw who was standing there. “You’re so fucking big you’re causing an eclipse,” Mehmet joked, which just caused Lenny to shrug his huge delts before dropping down onto the blanket. “You’re looking pretty huge yourself,” he said, returning the compliment. “I guess you got into the swing of things after all.” “Yeah, I worked it all out. Just took some getting used to.” The too looked each other over, two massively muscled men that could hop up on the Olympia stage and easily take first and second place. It was crazy and made absolutely no sense but neither one was particularly worried about that. They had both changed into something bigger and better than before and that was enough for now. If there was something more they’d deal with it when it came. “You fucked around recently?” Lenny asked. “Bout a week ago, I guess,” Mehmet answered, thinking back. “My neighbor downstairs pounded on my door cuz I was making too much noise walking around. As soon as I saw him there I knew…” He shrugged and Lenny nodded in response. That’s how it worked. They just knew. The two huge men looked off into the crowd in companionable silence. After a few minutes Lenny laughed out loud and hollered, “Rory!” An enormous man – bigger even than Lenny – turned his head and then walked over with a slow, bow-legged gait. He had his arm slung possessively around the neck of a much smaller man at his side. The little guy looked vaguely familiar to Mehmet from his days down in the financial district which reminded him that he hadn’t been to work for a while. Good thing money wasn’t hard to come by when you were built like they were. Lenny climbed to his feet and Mehmet did the same as Rory approached. By now there was a small crowd forming a respectful distance away as people tried to make sense of three huge men in such close proximity. Most of the spectators were gay men though there were a number of women as well. “Heya, Ror,” Lenny said and the two men came together in a massive half hug. “How ya doing?” “I’m great, Len. Just heading to my friend’s to relax for a while.” Here he gave his smaller companion a tight squeeze that forced most of the air from the guy’s lungs. He looked a bit dazed as if unsure that he was ready for what was about to happen to him. “Excellent. Hey, this is my buddy, Mehmet. We hooked up a ways back.” Rory smiled and reached forward with his free hand, hooking Mehmet’s neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss. His smaller companion gasped in shock at the site as did a few of the jealous crowd. “Great to meet you,” Rory said stepping back. “Lenny has great taste.” “He did me a favor,” Mehmet said with a sly smile in Lenny’s direction. “I guess you both did in a way.” “Glad I could help. Hey, I gotta get my friend home,” Rory said with a deadpan look. “You know how it is.” The other two big men nodded in understanding and watched as Rory led his quarry off the grass and back down the sidewalk, the crowd parting before him like the Red Sea. “I’m gonna get going too,” Lenny said and gave Mehmet a bone cracking hug before heading up towards the piers. Mehmet watched him go and then lay back down on his blanket to get some more sun before it was time to pack up and hit the gym.
  14. SarisHappy

    My girl

    I've always been a big guy. In my childhood, I always took pride that I was the biggest. Even before puberty. I was always the tallest kid in my grade. Whenever my fellow 8 year old kids would gather round and compare bicep sizes, I always won. I mean, I was humbled a bit by middle school, when some of the girls got taller than me before I hit puberty. It depressed me a bit, to be honest. So when I hit my massive growth spurt, my height surpassing them, and everyone else (including adults) by 8th grade, I loved it. In high school, my ego reached critical mass, as a freshman, I was taller than all but 2 seniors. I loved it when 4 months into high school, I surpassed them. Now, getting that tall, that fast, I did look kinda scrawny. But my muscles started building up quickly. I wasn't even doing any extra working out at first. Just playing football or basketball with my friends. It wasn't until I joined the football team in 10th grade that I started lifting. And my body loved it. My muscles were growing so big, so fast, I was getting stretching marks on my arms, back, and thighs. My senior year, when I was 18, I had become famous in my small suburban town. While girls adored me, most of them were too inexperienced to be able to handle the size of my penis (which also had stretch marks from rapid growth). So when I went away to college, I met a 25 year old grad student. Her name was Sarah. Now, I loved my size. I loved ducking through doors. I loved how my shoulders were too broad for some doors. I loved how no matter what I wore, you could easily see the outline of my giant genitals. When I hit my head on things, I'd smirk while in pain, thinking how I was too big for this society. But Sarah...was obsessed. I was still growing, but slowly. She was insatiable, and the only girl who could handle my size. She was a big woman, too. Not chubby or anything. No, but tall, curvy, she liked to workout too. She studied all sorts of biology and holistic herbs and stuff like that. She was on a journey to get as big as possible, and she swore she made her breasts and butt bigger using exercise, herbs, and meditative techniques. I was skeptical, but also, didn't really care. She was hot and able to handle me. We both had endless sexual energy. When we first started dating, we had sex for 3 days straight, getting food delivered, and calling off work. We tried to see if we even had a limit, but we could only avoid real life for so long. But when she offered to help me get even bigger...I still remained skeptical. Herbs? Meditation? Some other hippy bullshit? Come on, now. I wanted to stay natural. But sometimes, I would see before and after pictures of men who used steroids. I was still bigger than them! Imagine, if I took them...I'd become... She slapped me when I brought this up to her. My health wasn't worth the risk. She insisted, as always, when we returned to everything after we die, we can live out all our dreams, but it was our responsibility to take care of our health in this state we exist in. There was some other hippy shit she said, too, but whatever. She suggested we try her techniques first, and if I wasn't satisfied, we explore other options. To my surprise, her combination of pills, food, yoga, weightlifting, meditation, and hypnosis had speed up my growth. My muscles didn't seem to be growing as fast as they would be if I used steroids, but I was getting taller faster. And even my dick and balls were growing...something that hasn't happened over the past 2-3 years. Then, she started exercising my dick. She'd stretch it. She'd jelq it. She'd work it out for me. And it would get sore. And it grew. and grew. and grew. Jesus Christ, did it grow. I'll give you the exact details of my favorite session. Stay tuned for the next, and final part.
  15. NYCBlackMuscle

    The Bug: Rory

    I couldn't find this anywhere on the new forum so I thought I'd upload it again. More parts are in the works (Part 2 is already done and was posted on the last site). Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2009 - 2014 by [email protected] Part 2 - The Bug: Lenny Part 3 - The Bug: Mehmet Part 1 The Bug: Rory On Tuesday I was supposed to have lunch with Rory but I blew him off. I felt a little guilty but the cute guy from my gym, the one I thought was Italian but who turned out to be Turkish, gave me a come hither smile as we were alternating on the pec deck machine. One thing led to another and I ended up spending lunch on my back at his place, Turkish music competing with the traffic noise from 7th Avenue that filtered through the open window. I called and left a message for Rory that evening, inventing a crisis at work and asking if we could reschedule for Thursday. He sent a text after I went to sleep agreeing, so Wednesday morning I suggested we meet at Little Eddie’s downtown around 1 PM. He sent back a quick, “see u there”. True to form I was late and he was waiting when I finally got to Little Eddie’s. He was sitting by the wall in the back, far away from the large windows that looked out on the street. Rory was always shy and usually sought out the quietest corner, furthest away from the crowds. In other words we’re nothing alike but somehow back in 9th grade we became friends and we’ve stuck with each other since. Do I love him? Yeah, like the little brother I never had, even though he’s four months older than me. Still, he’s annoying as fuck, a fact I remind him of every chance I get. “Jesus, Ror, couldn’t you find a table in the kitchen?” He looked confused for a moment, shooting a glance at the swinging doors that lead off to the back, and then words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, I thought–, I mean, we can change, but this was free–, I don’t care if we–.” “Relax, relax, I kid,” I said looking heavenward and sliding into my chair. He had wavy brown hair that fell over his ears and framed a boyish face. That he had glasses was no surprise, since no self-respecting geek went without, but he was wearing the same style that he’d worn when we met 12 years before. I had not been successful in convincing him to modernize. “I just meant that most people come here to see the action and maybe take a little home with them. You’re not going to get lucky back here in Siberia.” “Oh, I get it,” he said and smiled an embarrassed smile, a really killer smile, actually, that if properly utilized could have gotten him more action that afternoon than he’d seen in the last year. He may not have been the hottest thing in town but Rory had a lot going for him. What he did not have was even an iota of self-confidence. It had been thus for years and though I doted on my little friend I’d pretty much given up on trying to nudge him into the slow lane (currently he was parked on the side of the road). He was as predictable as mud which is why I was surprised at the question he sprang on me. “Do you think I should join a gym?” “Well, uh, yeah, of course,” I stuttered, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. “I mean you should have joined first thing after graduating high school but it’s never too late.” “Yeah,” he agreed, looking off into the distance, “I was thinking the same thing.” “Great, but why now? You’ve never been interested in anything physical before.” His eyes slid away and I realized he was embarrassed. My spider sense began to tingle. “Oh my god, something happened, didn’t it? What happened, Rory? What tawdry, disgusting little thing happened that’s convinced you to start working out?” He grimaced but didn’t bother trying to deny it. “It wasn’t tawdry or disgusting, it was just…. I don’t know, just kind of odd.” He paused but saw that I was ready to jump in and went on before I could. “I was on the subway yesterday, on my way home from work, and this guy got on at Collins Square. I don’t even know why I looked up, it wasn’t my stop, but I saw him come through the doors and Lenny, he was just huge. I think he was the biggest guy I’ve ever seen.” Rory’s eyes were shining like he’d seen Madonna at a spring or something. “He walked funny, he was so big. He was in this red t-shirt and it was so tight… There was only one seat open, right next to me, and he took it so I was kind of smashed up next to him and his big arm was all on me. I didn’t want to stare, I thought he might get mad or something, but I looked down at his thigh next to mine and it was like you could have fit three of my legs into one leg of his jeans. I couldn’t believe it….” Rory trailed off, reliving this magnificent moment. I was impressed – I’d never seen him half as excited about a guy before. “So what happened, dork? You’re leavin’ me hangin’ here.” He cleared his throat before going on. “Well, not much. I mean we just sat there until Richland Avenue where he got off.” It was my turn to grimace. “Of course you didn’t say hello or nice day or what huge legs you have, I’m sure. But what about him, did he give you any sign?” “No, not really. He just sat there and breathed. So did I. He had a really nice smell.” I couldn’t help but sigh. Leave it to Rory to make a mountain out of a molehill. Still, if it pushed him to get up and out of his apartment with any regularity then it was to be supported. “I never knew you were into big muscle or smells, but hey, whatever works for you.” He began to dispute this description of his predilections but ignored him. “I think it’s a good idea, joining the gym, that is. You might as well join City Athletics, there’s one a couple blocks from your place. You can talk to my friend Kurt there, he can probably give you a deal.” “Sure, sure, City Athletics, Kurt.” “I think they give you a free training session when you start plus I can show you a few things. I know my way around.” I did know my way around the gym, though I wasn’t huge or anything. I was tight, though, and my abs were almost excellent. I could teach Rory a thing or two. “Thanks, Lenny. I’ll go this afternoon.” And that’s exactly what he did. My friend Kurt mentioned it to me when I ran into him that weekend at Gold Dust Lounge. He yelled in my ear over the dance music that my friend Rory had joined and hired a personal trainer. I was happy for the little dork though I was a bit distracted from Kurt’s news by the blonde guy a little further down the bar who kept throwing me half-smiles over the shoulder of what I assumed was a boyfriend. The blonde guy was named Randy, the boyfriend was actually a cousin newly out of the closet, and the night ended with Randy and I fucking like rabbits back at my place. In a nice bit of symmetry the cousin ended up with Kurt. For eighteen days we continued to fuck like rabbits. It was a lot of fun until a simple question about the life-size photo of he and his ex-boyfriend that hung over his bed caused a hysterical crying jag (on his part) that was not sexy. The last time I saw him he was leaving an embarrassingly long message on the ex’s voicemail begging to be taken back. Honestly, I hope it works out for them. Back amongst the non-hysterical I started checking in with my friends, shooting messages to Rory among others. His text reply was a short, seemingly terse, ‘hitting the weights. later’. It looked like he was sticking with that gym thing, at least for a few weeks. It was another week before I found myself at loose ends in his neighborhood and decided to actually give him a call this time. “Yeah?” He sounded a little groggy, like the phone woke him up. “Ror, baby, I’m on your block. Invite me up.” There was a delay as if he was trying to decide whether or not to offer the invite but before I could get offended he simply replied, “Yeah, OK. Come up.” I took the elevator to his floor, found his apartment door was open a crack and let myself in. Just inside the door I saw a gym bag on the floor and wondered if he’d dropped it there after he last worked out or if he’d already prepared for the next one. Knowing Rory it was probably the latter. The living room was empty, as was the kitchen, but he came out of the bathroom before I could look any further. His hair was messy and he was rubbing his eyes so I guess I was right about him being asleep, but that thought was immediately pushed aside. He was dressed in just a tank top and some boxer briefs so it was very easy to see that Rory was bigger. I’m pretty good at math when I need to be, i.e. when it’s somehow connected to getting laid. Rory was about my height, say 5’ 10” (though I almost always claimed 6’). I’d seen him dressed down enough to know that he was one of those guys who ran to skinny rather than fat, let’s say around 145 pounds, smooth without any sort of definition. The guy in standing in front of me now wasn’t anything like that. We were still eye-to-eye but my gut told me this Rory was more like 170, maybe 175, and there was no missing the shape of the exposed biceps and shoulders or the weight of his thighs. It had been four weeks and somehow he’d put on about 25 pounds which I knew to be impossible, no matter what he was taking. “What the fuck happened to you?” I asked, my voice sounding strange, even to me. He frowned, yawned and then moved past me towards the kitchen. “I took the day off,” he said over his shoulder, then added. “Off from work, I mean.” “What do I look like, HR? I mean what happened to you. You’re bigger.” He was undoing the top of a large tub of protein powder and proceeded to pour two scoops into a shaker. Standing in profile to me I could see the curve of his pecs up front and his ass in back. This definitely was not the same Rory. “I’m getting there,” was all he said as he filled the shaker with tap water and then shook it violently. He chugged the mixture quickly and then rinsed the shaker before setting it back on the counter next to the protein. When he looked back at me his stare was direct and unconcerned, nothing like the shifty, side-eyed looks I usually got from Rory. I took a deep breath and tried again. “You look great, it’s obvious the gym is working out for you. But Ror, you must have put on 20 pounds and that’s not –.” “Twenty-seven,” he said calmly, interrupting. “Fine, twenty-seven then, but that’s crazy. No one gains weight like that.” He shrugged, displaying his newly rounded shoulders and the sweep of his traps, and I suddenly felt a rush of desire, a first for me with Rory. I tried to follow what he was saying. “It’s easy Lenny, you just have to lift and eat and sleep, and that’s what I’ve been doing, all month, nonstop.” He smiled a bit after this and I saw a glimmer of my old friend but he was hard to spot in this new body. Things seemed out of whack and I suddenly felt very uneasy. He ambled over to the sofa and dropped down on it, heaving out a big sigh. “I mean it’s not like I’m anywhere close to that guy on the train.” For a second I had no idea what he was talking about but then I remembered the big guy who had prompted his gym initiation. “Come on Ror, you said he was massive. You’re bigger but not that big.” “That’s what I’m saying,” was his steady reply. “I’m not massive… yet.” He stared up at where I stood standing in the middle of his living room and I realized he was slowly rubbing the bulge in his boxers. His other hand was on his chest, cupping the new mass of his right pec. It was too much for me – I made a lame excuse and left his apartment. If nothing else seeing Rory’s progress made me workout harder, as if I somehow needed to stop from falling behind. I was still confused at how he could have made so much progress so quickly – even steroids don’t work that fast – but over the next few weeks I managed to convince myself that he hadn’t really gotten as big as I’d assumed. Sure, everyone puts on some quick muscle when they first start at the gym and on a skinny guy like him it was going to be particularly noticeable. But 27 pounds? No way, he was just yanking my chain. I went on thinking that until one Thursday when I ran into my friend Kurt from City Athletics once again. This was at a place called Splinter (don’t ask me – dumbest club name I’ve ever heard), which was down in Dockside in some converted warehouse. The place was kind of dark so I almost walked right past him, but we caught each other’s eye at the same moment and I stopped. “What’s up, Kurt?” “Hey Lenny, I’m good,” he said. “You here alone?” He was looking over my shoulder as he asked it and I had to laugh. “Oh, you mean blondie? That didn’t work out – he had issues.” “No, I thought Rory might be with you.” “Rory? Here? No way, he wouldn’t be caught dead.” “Yeah? He said at the gym that he was thinking about…” Kurt’s voice trailed off and I could see his eyes lock on something behind me. I turned to see this big guy rolling up on us, his wide torso displayed in a very tight, barely-there tank top. The flashing disco lights caught on his big arms and shoulders, making the overbuilt muscle seem to flex in time to the music. He was my height but must have outweighed me by a good 50 pounds. He was handsome too. His head was shaved close, like a Marine, and it wasn’t until he shot me a raised eyebrow and a cocky grin that I realized I knew him. It took a couple more seconds, seconds that seemed to stretch into hours, before I somehow realized it was Rory. At least the face was Rory’s, though only in a similar way. The jaw was stronger and there was no trace of the shy passivity that had served as an everyday mask for my childhood buddy. This man looked ready to conquer the world. The body was beyond comprehension. He would have stood out anyway, even if I wasn’t rooted there making wordless, mental objections to the impossibility of it all. He was simply huge, like a competition bodybuilder. I’d never really been turned on by the big guys before, by the ones whose only goal was to get as big and massive as possible. I tended to go for the gym cuties that could workout and then drink all night at the club. But I couldn’t deny that Rory, this big, muscular behemoth that had replaced the skinny kid I used to know, had a magnetism I hadn’t experienced before. While I was trying to process all this Kurt was not wasting any time. He brushed by me and gave Rory a big hug that went on long enough to go from a come-on to a blatant invitation. Rory stood there, one big arm around Kurt’s waist, and smiled at me. After a couple seconds he whispered something in Kurt’s ear and then pushed him away, his eyes never leaving mine. He swaggered up to me and it was all I could do to not step back as that big chest approached. “Hey Lenny.” The voice, like the face, was only similar. It had changed, gotten deeper and rougher as if in compliment to his changed physique. “So we’ve never fucked,” he continued, stating something obvious to us both, “but we should. You’ve always had a nice ass.” It was about as Neanderthal an approach as I’d ever heard and normally I would have shot it down with something witty and slightly vicious. I didn’t do that this time. Instead I found myself nodding in agreement and following him out of the club. When we hit the street he turned and pulled me into the mass of his torso, his lips crushing mine, his tongue shooting into my mouth. His strength and size were overpowering. I found myself grabbing at his arms, his wide back, his minuscule waist, frantically exploring the contours of his muscle, oblivious to anyone watching us. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes, our faces only inches apart. “I’m still getting bigger,” was all he said, and then he turned and pulled me by the arm down the street in the direction of my apartment. He fucked me all night long. Literally. Every time he came, roaring like a bull in heat, I was sure it was over but scant minutes later he’d pull me to him again, his strength surprising me each time. And me, who was normally so in control whether on top or bottom, gave it all up to him, without restraint. I couldn’t get enough of his mass, the way he positioned me at his whim, the smell of his sweat and muscle. At some point I fell into darkness, came awake later to feel him behind me, his arms clamped around my chest, still sliding up deep inside. Finally I passed out for good. In the morning he was gone and I could barely move. I painfully climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. The man in the mirror, his eyes wild, his lips bruised, was a stranger. I splashed some water on my face and felt a bit more real. A long, hot shower helped me gain a sliver of normalcy. Even so I called in to work, not even bothering to invent a lie, just telling my boss I’d had a hard night and couldn’t come in. After the night’s marathon session I was ravenous so I went down to the corner deli and picked up a couple breakfast sandwiches and a carton of orange juice. After eating I finally felt enough like myself that I wondered what I was going to do with my free day. Lying on the bed, I idly smoothed out the sheets then pressed my face into them, reliving his smell. Suddenly I felt the urge to go workout.
  16. NYCBlackMuscle

    The Bug: Lenny

    Part 2 of this story. Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2010 - 2014 by [email protected] Part 1 - The Bug: Rory Part 3 - The Bug: Mehmet Part 2 The Bug: Lenny My father always expected me to take over his store someday. He started working there when he was only seven, stocking shelves and carrying vegetables up from the basement while my grandfather manned the front counter, selling milk, eggs and cigarettes while talking to the men from the block about baseball and politics. Outside the store, in the Turkish and Lebanese neighborhood where we lived, the old women in black shawls would walk arm-in-arm down the sidewalk, telling stories about their neighbors and casting critical eyes on the children playing in the street. My family had a store back in Turkey before my great-grandfather came to America. I never learned why he left there but I think it was because he married my great-grandmother, Nasia, who was Greek. I barely remember her, she died when I was six, but she scared me. In my memories she’s always staring at me with dark eyes sunk in a wrinkled face as if she knows I’ve done something wrong. Sometime early on I vowed to escape, across the river and into the city that I could see in the distance, tall towers climbing into the sky. I wanted to leave the store, the neighborhood and the insular group of Turkish families that traded sons and daughters in an Old-World game of marriage and alliance. I wasn’t ready to admit what I really wanted but I knew I couldn’t marry any of those girls, that I had to leave before my life was anchored in the same tenements that had already captured my father and brothers, uncles and cousins. When I was fourteen I rode the subway into the city with my mother, my aunt and two cousins to visit my Uncle Berker who was in the hospital for an operation. The city was so busy with so many people, all going somewhere important. We ate lunch at a corner diner where my mother and aunt talked in hushed tones about my uncle while my cousins and I kicked at each other under the table. I got bored with the foot game after a while so I looked around and saw a man clearing tables, stacking dishes in a plastic tub to be taken to the kitchen. He might have been 25 or 30, dark like me but certainly not Turkish. When he lifted the tub his arms flexed, filling the rolled up sleeves of his t-shirt, a tattooed eagle on his facing arm undulating with the motion of the muscle underneath. I suddenly felt a kick to my stomach as if one of my cousins had managed a well-placed blow with their sneaker. For the rest of lunch I watched him, whenever he was out front, hoping to see him flex his arms again. I was so distracted I didn’t notice my family getting up from the table and my mother had to grab me by the head to get my attention. “Mehmet, what’s wrong with you?” I couldn’t say, wouldn’t say, knew that she’d never understand. That night in bed, my younger brother asleep in the bunk above me, I lay thinking about that arm and its eagle, dreaming what it would feel like to be strong like that. On my eighteenth birthday, a few weeks after I graduated high school, I told my father I had been accepted to City University. He was silent for a moment, pursing his lips and looking away from me in a recognizable sign that he was unhappy. I knew he was trying to decide how this would affect the store and the ever increasing hours he had me chained there. But I also knew that he couldn’t disagree with me going to college, that education was as important as milk and cigarettes, maybe more so. He finally, painfully, agreed that I could work evenings and weekends, was almost angry when I said I’d need at least a couple nights off to do homework. A month later I found a cheap apartment share in the city and a job at a restaurant. By Christmas I was only going home every other weekend to see my younger brother Omer glaring from the door of the family store as I walked by, father’s angry replacement for me. At the restaurant where I bussed tables, stacking dishes in a tub before taking them to the back to be cleaned, there was a bartender named Rolo. He was couple years older than me, originally from Spain but so long ago he sounded and acted more American than I did. He joked with me as we worked, throwing ice at me as I passed by or stealing food from my plate as I ate in the break room. They made him wear all black, a black buttoned down shirt and black slacks, but you could still tell he was in great shape. His shoulders seemed overly broad, his waist almost too small, and I couldn’t help noticing his ass molding the rear of his pants. I’d listen to the female waiters whispering about him when he left the room, my heart beat pounding in my ears as I thought the things they said aloud. Once Rolo caught me as I was leaving work on a warm August night when the city seemed busier at 2 AM then it had all day long. He walked with me down the sidewalk, cracking jokes about the people at the restaurant, making me laugh even though my stomach was queasy and my palms sweaty. At the corner of Empire Avenue and 28th Street he motioned with his head in mid-sentence and I found myself walking to his apartment, a 3rd floor walkup in a shabby building. I sat silently on his futon, afraid my voice would quaver and broadcast my fear if I spoke. He must have known because he kept up an easy patter as he unbuttoned and shrugged off his shirt, displaying a tight white tank top seemingly sprayed onto his wide, hairless torso. When he put his hand on my knee I felt my heart stop but it must have kept beating because moments later our arms were locked around each other and we were kissing. He felt amazing, all smooth and muscle under velvet skin. We broke the kiss and then his lips were on my neck and ears, making me gasp at the touch. I licked his traps and on down to his swelling biceps, which flexed and writhed as we grappled. I was afraid he’d be disappointed – I was slim and tight but not nearly as muscular as him – but his passion showed that he was as turned on as me. When he rolled over onto his stomach and raised his perfect ass it seemed so natural for me to take him, like it was what I’d been missing all my life. He couldn’t understand the words I moaned in his ear, curses and praise in my father’s tongue, but he could feel my excitement as I drove into him with the strength of years of pent-up lust. I felt his tight hole spasm as he came, triggering my own climax in turn Rolo and I became lovers. Not that night but five years later, long after we’d both left the restaurant. I ran into him at a house party shortly after he got back from Los Angeles where he had moved for couple years in hopes of becoming an actor. We fucked at my place in Kensington, the apartment I’d moved into after graduating college and getting my first real job. He kept going on about how much bigger I was and I just smiled down at him, his legs wrapped around my waist and my hands pinning his wrists to the bed above his head. I was bigger and more muscular but it was all because of him, because of what I loved so much that night he first took his shirt off. We were only together eight months but we parted friends when he hopped a plane to Miami and the next chapter in his life. I settled down into my routine of work and the gym, and the occasional visits back home to the family where I endured a parade of young Turkish women who needed a husband just as it was assumed I needed a wife. After each visit I’d run for the subway and escape back to civilization for a frenzied workout and a casual fling with some tight young stud. That’s how I met Lenny, a guy from the gym that I sometimes saw out at night or at the piers on summer afternoons. He was sexy enough, blondish brown hair and a beautiful ass, but with a bitchy streak that thankfully I could ignore when we were fucking. I’d seen him looking at the gym a couple times and smiled in response, not in any hurry since he seemed like just one of the many interchangeable guys you meet in the gay ghetto. One day things came together and we started talking during a late morning chest workout when I was supposed to be working from home, my cell phone being my only real connection to the office that day. I took him to my place and fucked him twice before lunch was over. We exchanged numbers and I forgot about him. Not long after my older brother Selim announced to the family he was leaving his wife and daughters for a Puerto Rican woman from the auto supply company where he worked. You’d have thought the world was coming to an end. I did my best to stay out of the whole thing though my mother managed to guilt me into one meeting with him. I didn’t attempt to change his mind – given my family secret it seemed hypocritical to even try. I met his new inamorata that Sunday after Selim and I finished lunch at a tapas place near Collins Square. She seemed very nice, much nicer than the woman my father had previously convinced him to marry. I said goodbye and watched them disappear into the midday crowd, Selim’s arm tight around her waist. I was sorry for my nieces, I knew this wouldn’t be easy on them, but I hoped for the best for my brother. I also decided the best antidote to family stress was the gym. I headed home, cutting over towards 7th Avenue on 16th Street. Halfway down the block my family ruminations were kicked to the curb when I saw this big guy walking towards me. He was dressed in standard Kensington fashion – sunglasses, sleeveless t-shirt, knee length shorts and sandals – but normality stopped there. He was really big, huge in fact. Massive torso, tiny waist and back out to gigantic legs that seemed to struggle to get around each other as he walked. There were plenty of gym boys in this part of town, including me, but this guy looked like a professional bodybuilder and was easily the biggest person I’d ever seen in real life. I realized my mouth was open and I snapped it shut as we approached each other, him taking up a good portion of the sidewalk. He slowed as we neared and a cocky smile appeared on his face, taking me by surprise. “Hey man, how ya been?” He seemed to be speaking to me but I had no idea why. I looked around but as was often the case the street was nearly empty despite the crowds that thronged the avenues this block ran between. “Uh, I - I’m good,” I stuttered, positive that he had mistaken me for someone else. He reached up to his glasses and my eyes latched onto his forearm, probably as big around as my bicep, the muscle fibers clear and distinct under the skin. When his eyes appeared I did a double-take; he did look familiar, sort of, though I couldn’t imagine why. There was no way I could ever have forgotten that body. “So here we are and it’s lunchtime again,” he said with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah it is. I just ate with my brother…” Inwardly I kicked myself for sounding so inane. Who the hell was this big fucker? He moved towards me and I couldn’t help stepping back a half-step, intimidated as that enormous chest neared mine. “I liked your music, I wanna hear it again,” he said in a low voice and somehow that did it. “Lenny,” I breathed as I felt one of his big hands slide around my waist. “Who’d ya think?” he asked as he leaned in and kissed me there on 16th Street. I think I resisted, or tried, but it was like pushing against a building. He only tightened his grip in response. His tongue pushed into my mouth like he owned it, as forceful a kiss as I’d ever received. When he finally pulled back, his eyes staring deep into mine, I could see the outlines of the guy I had picked up at the gym and fucked those few months ago but that was all that was similar. Everything else had changed, impossibly changed. I suddenly felt the urge to run. As if sensing my half-formed intention he turned me back the way I was headed, walked me to 7th and then down the avenue towards my apartment. It was weird feeling such a huge presence at my shoulder, watching people step aside as we approach, some in surprise, some with burgeoning lust on their faces. I guess I’m a good-looking enough guy that I’m used to some attention when I walk through my part of the city, but this was something altogether different. People were as awestruck with him as I was, some stopping to stare, a few even taking pictures with their phones. Lenny ignored them all, walking along as if he owned the sidewalk. No one seemed to be in the mood to contest his ownership. A very quiet and logical corner of my brain was running down a list of reasons why this couldn’t be happening. The first item on the list was that Lenny was smaller than me – I knew this for a fact having been naked with him only eight or nine weeks earlier. Therefore, the behemoth next to me could not be Lenny. I found some momentary comfort in this as if it were evidence my brain was still functioning but then Lenny’s over-sized arm bumped into and pushed aside my own and the point was lost. A bit further down the list was the fact that I was a strict top – I’d only ever considered switching positions once after a drunken New Year’s party. My desire to experiment ended at the moment of first contact when I suddenly decided there were some things I didn’t need to experience. Now I found myself nearing home with a man who was very obviously in charge, despite the roles we’d played last time we met. I avoided the eyes of my doorman as Lenny walked me across the lobby of my building to the elevator. We shared the ride up with an older woman who lived somewhere on a floor above me. I imagined her disapproval of the big man’s hand cradling my ass as we got off on my floor. I fumbled with the key to my door, Lenny’s torso pressed into the back of mine, his hands gripping my hips. When the door finally opened he thrust me into the apartment, kicking it shut behind us, and then whipped me around, pressing his lips into mine once again. To say that he was overpowering was an understatement – his arms were like a vice around my torso while his mouth and tongue stole the breath from my lungs. I could barely think as he hefted me, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, and thudded through my open bedroom door. It was only when he tossed me on the bed that I had a moment to think, to try and clear the thought and feel and smell of him from my brain. It was only a short moment because standing next to the bed he gripped the bottom of his shirt and tore it over his head. As his impossibly wide torso came into view my mouth fell open once again and the logical part of my brain gave up the fight, giving into the lust that overcame me. I didn’t resist as he pulled off my shoes and then opened my pants before pulling them off as well. Seeing all that muscle bunching and moving under the skin, the roll of his chest and shoulders as moved me around like a toy, made me so hot I started grabbing at him, trying to pull him onto me. He kicked off his sandals and managed to push his shorts down over his thick thighs and straining erection, and then he climbed up on to the bed and over me, his arms like thick columns on either side of my head. “Whadya want?” he asked in a husky voice, his eyes burning into mine. “You,” I gasped, completely lost in his strength. “I want you.” Then his arms collapsed and he was on me, his over-sized muscle covering me completely as his hips forced my legs wide apart. Whatever my previous trepidation or concern it was gone now, completely subsumed in my need for him and his body. I didn’t know what time it was but it was twilight outside my apartment windows. There was a bedside clock on the other side of Lenny but it was obscured by the height of his slowly rising and falling torso. He lay on his stomach, his far arm lying on the bed above his head, his face turned towards me so I could see one of his now closed eyes. It was so strange, I could still see the shade of the gym twink I’d met before, like the imprint of a child in the features of the man he would later become. I’d never been a muscle whore, never been attracted to the big steroid boys who grunted and groaned their way around the gym. Lenny, the old Lenny, was my type, in part because I always wanted to be the one on top, calling the shots, directing the action. Now, coming down from this recent sexual high, my mind was just starting to try to deal with finding myself on the opposite side of things. Only half thinking I ran a finger from his shoulder down the curve of his tricep, marveling at his human landscape. “Like what you see?” he asked, surprising me. “You know I do,” I replied in a whisper. He opened the one eye, looking at me for a few seconds before pushing himself up on his immense arms and then swinging his legs onto the floor. “Good,” he continued as he stood and headed for my bathroom, “cuz this is gonna be you in a little while.” I stared after him, a puzzled look spreading across my face, trying to figure out what he meant.
  17. Xyggurat

    A Little Too Far, Part I

    It was never supposed to be like this. Things just went a little too far. Okay, way too far. The first thing you have to understand is that I'm not an idiot. I was just sympathetic to Kyle's plight. I remembered what it was like to be a little guy, just starting out at the gym, wondering why my muscles wouldn't grow when everyone else's gains seemed to be in overdrive. But I'd fixed all that. Got my diet in check, started really pushing myself hard, and after a few years of consistent work, I was sporting a good 180 pounds on my 5'9 frame. Not huge, but big. Big and hard. When I'd flex my arms, a solid, veiny orb like a softball would pop up, almost stretching my sleeves to the breaking point. You can bet that I showed those babies off when I went out to the clubs. Kyle, though, Kyle was a mess. My little buddy was only an inch shorter than I was, but he looked like he weighed half what I did. I was surprised when he told me he weighed about a buck thirty. In two years of working out, he'd gained precisely three pounds of muscle. Now, I know what you're thinking. He must have been making some sort of easy-to-fix rookie mistake, right? You'd be wrong. I'd been to his place countless times. His fridge was bursting with chicken breasts, healthy carbs, greens. You'd think he spent all of his time cooking, but that wouldn't have left him much time for the gym. And boy, did he put in his hours there. I'd gone with him a few times. He couldn't lift much, on account of being a twig, but he lifted hard and he never gave up. If I'd had half his dedication during my own transformation, I'd have been an Olympia competitor for sure. Not that I was into that. Hot guys, yes. Posing straps and fake tans, not so much. Anyway, my point is that Kyle was obsessed. He'd tried everything, from supplements to a bad round of steroids that had left him looking like a pimply teenager for a month or two. Then had come reiki, Eastern medicine, hypnosis. None of it had worked, but he kept trying. So it wasn't a huge surprise when he turned up at my place that day with his newest hare- brained scheme. "I've finally got it," he said, pushing past me and plopping down on my couch like he owned it. I didn't bother asking what he'd gotten. He had a little brown bag, the sort that you pack middle school lunches in. From the way he was cradling it in his hands, you'd think it was the fucking Precious. Kyle continued, as I'd expected he would. "So, what if I told you I'd been going about getting big the wrong way this whole time?" He was really cute when he got like this. I'd never tell him that. Beautiful green eyes, sharp features. That curly dark hair. But he wasn't my type. I liked my guys big and aggressive, and Kyle was small and--okay, I guess he could be a bit aggressive, but it was hard to take a guy that skinny seriously. "I'd say you're dumb," I said. "You do all the right stuff." His eyes lit up. "Exactly. I do everything right with my lifting and diet. But I'm like an architect trying to build the Taj Mahal with no marble." "I don't follow." "It's made out of marble. If he'd made it out of adobe, it wouldn't be--" "No, I get the metaphor, dummy, I just don't know what you mean," I said. He set the package down on my coffee table, fingers twitching as if they were loath to part with it. "What I'm saying is that my body's mud. It doesn't have the building blocks I need in order to get big." "Them's genetics," I said, not without sympathy. "I'd help you out if I could." "What a relief! I was hoping you'd say that." Kyle let out a whoosh of breath. Uh oh. "I've tried helping you lift, though, and your form is great. I just don't have that much time to--" He held up a hand. "This won't take any time at all, I promise. Just like a few minutes, if that." I sat down across from him, my skepticism not put off one bit by his promises. It wasn't that I didn't want to help him. I'd supported him over the years, encouraged him in the gym, given him new plans to try. At this point, I knew anything I did was just throwing good effort after bad. "What do you need?" I asked, trying to keep the resignation out of my voice. "I need to borrow a little of your muscle," he said. I blinked. "Borrow?" "Okay, take. But only a few pounds." "Are you feeling all right? I can call 911." "I'm serious." He snatched the bag from the table and pulled out a little test tube. Well, not a test tube. It was more ornate than that. A vial, I guess? Inside was a greyish sludge. It moved sluggishly as Kyle shook the glass container. "What's that?" I asked. "Grade-A weirdass shit," he said. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Try me." "So, there was this government test at Camp Pendleton back in the early 2000s, right? And--" "Nope. Stop. You're right. Don't believe you." He blushed. "What matters are the results. This shit changes you inside." "It looks like it's going to give you stomach cancer," I said. "It's not. The guy I got it from is reputable." "So there are reputable dealers of black market government test by- products, now?" He rolled his eyes. "Reputable-ish. Doesn't matter, though. You said you'd help." I sighed. "Help how?" "Like I said, this stuff changes you inside. I drink it. And then I have to... you know, touch you." "If you came over to hook up, you could've just said so," I said, jokingly undoing the knot securing my shorts. Yeah, we'd fucked a few times, but that was a long time ago. It wasn't like that between Kyle and me, really. He kept on going. "I don't know how it works, precisely. The guy who sold it to me had a lot of papers on the mechanics of it, but let's just say it's magic. I touch you, and it transfers some of your muscles to me." "That sounds pretty unbelievable. And kind of ridiculous. I mean, if it were true, no one would be able to have sex with you again, right?" "No, it only lasts for a little while. I checked," he said. He held up the vial to the light. Even when he wasn't moving it, the fluid inside kept moving, as if it was slightly alive. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?" I asked. "Dead serious." "It's not going to work. You know that, right?" "Then you have nothing to lose," he said. "Okay, maybe a few pounds." If there was one thing Kyle could do, it was sell his crazy. For just a moment, I actually considered what would happen if he was right, and the snake oil he was holding actually worked. "How much are you thinking? I just got my bench over 250." He shrugged. "A few pounds? Ten? Would ten be okay?" I considered it. Ten pounds would put him in the range of normal. And I'd still be pretty big. I could gain it back in a couple of months. There was also the fact that there was no way in hell that Kyle's sludge was going to do anything. "Make it fifteen," I said, getting up. Kyle's eyes lit up. "Wow, Mike, you're too generous!" He exploded from the couch and wrapped me in a hug, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Kyle, I don't want you to get your hopes up," I said, extricating myself from the embrace. A shadow of doubt passed over his face, but he forced a smile. "Hey, if it doesn't work, I'm only out ten grand, right?" "Ten grand!? Kyle! You have to return that shit and get your money--" It was too late. In the intervening heartbeats, he had uncapped the vial and taken a swig of its contents. There was not a drop left. "Tastes like shit," he said. "Feels funny." It had looked like shit, too. "You going to throw up?" I asked. His cheeks had a flush to them. It made his eyes seem unnaturally bright, like two cut emeralds. I reached for my cell, considered calling the hospital, just in case he keeled over from whatever he'd just drank. But he didn't look like the stuff was having any ill effects on him yet. "No, funny good. Like warm in my stomach." He let out a soft gasp. "I think I feel it working." "Okay," I said, putting my phone down. "So what do we do now?" Collecting his wits, he focused on me again. "Take your shirt off." I don't know why I went along with it. He probably could have touched me anywhere, like my wrist or my cheek. Without waiting to see if I had obeyed, he started stripping out of his own clothes, first his t-shirt and then his shorts, leaving him standing only in boxer briefs. I followed suit, but left my shorts on. Kyle's body struck me again with how totally unimpressive it was. He wasn't fat, not even skinny fat, but there just wasn't enough muscle tone to justify the hours he spent toiling in the gym. He had a smooth chest, flat as a pancake on both sides, with only the faintest divide to hint at where one pectoral ended and the other began. He had abs, but only the sort that small guys get because they don't have any body fat to hide the muscles. I guess the one thing you could say about Kyle's body was that he had a nice cock. At seven and a half inches, it was nearly as big as mine. Right then, it was tenting out his boxer briefs. "Maybe it's just black market Viagra," I said, flicking his cock gently. He moaned. "Oh, man, don't do that. Whatever it is, it's making me super horny." Seeing him so turned on was having a similar effect on me. My dick started waking up from its nap. I told Ol' One-Eye to go back to sleep, that there was nothing to see here. "So now you touch me?" I asked. My voice was suddenly hoarse. "Yeah," he said. "Like this." Kyle placed both of his hands gently on my chest. His palms were warm and damp, fingers trembling. Heedless of my commands, my dick kept lengthening, spurred on by the intimacy of the situation. I resigned myself to a full on boner. "What now?" I asked. "I think I feel something," he said. "Don't you?" "No, I--" But I did feel something. It was an electric tingle where his skin met mine, not precisely pleasant, but not painful either. As his hands lingered there, it grew in intensity. I felt a heady weariness piling up on me. All my limbs felt heavy, like I had just finished an incredible workout, or maybe like a few days of too little sleep were creeping up on me. I staggered. My arms reached out instinctually and I steadied myself by grabbing Kyle's skinny arms. What I felt made me pause. The electric buzz between us intensified. His biceps were small, but hard under my hands. I could feel the electricity buzzing through them, almost as if it was feeding them. The skin under my fingers shifted slightly, almost as if Kyle was flexing them, but he had barely moved. No, he was not tensing them at all. They were growing. It was a slow transformation. I would have missed it at a casual glance, but my eyes couldn't leave Kyle's swelling arm. It hardened as it grew, going from merely solid to feeling like rock in a matter of moments. Or minutes. I don't know how long I stared. As I watched, Kyle's abs started to reshape themselves. They tightened and drew in, slimming his already-thin waist. Or maybe it was just that his chest and back were growing broader. His lats started to flare out a little. The crease between his pecs deepened as the muscles themselves pushed outward slightly. Man, he was starting to look pretty good. Kyle pulled away. I stumbled, surprised by his sudden movement. At least he'd had the presence of mind. I'd found his transformation, however slight, to be hypnotic. Not to mention fucking hot. "Whoah," I said. "Whoah," said Kyle. He flexed his right arm. It had been a featureless noodle before, but a firm, goose-egg peak popped up. Kyle's fingers explored the hard muscle as if it was the only thing in the universe. I didn't blame him. It was easily thirteen or fourteen inches and shredded to the bone. "Looks good," I said. Kyle glanced up at me. His gaze took me in. His eyes widened. "Oh, shit," he said.
  18. zangetsu

    Tristan Part 3

    Tristan Part 3 Going down an escalator, Tristan stares from one shop to another, trying to familiarize himself with all the stores while also looking for a help wanted sign. "So Tristan, did you find anything you like?" "Yeah, I found a couple of shirts and a pair of shorts." "That's good." Looking around, Tristan notices that it's noon, on an early July day, but the mall isn't even moderately crowded. Just a few groups of high-schoolers, some parents with their kids, and a dozen or so senior citizens spread about. Most stores are empty or at least seemingly empty, and a few are actually closed. "Hey Drew, why is it so empty? Back where I'm from the malls are insanely crowded during the summers." "Well almost two thirds of the town’s population leaves during the summer, so everything gets real empty around here. Two, three weeks before the semester starts everybody floods back here and this place becomes a mess. Thousands of freshmen free from their parents running around buying all kinds of unnecessary things. Worse when they have their parents, fussing and encouraging them to buy something advertised by some morning news show. The whole mall becomes a disaster." "Yeah?" "Yeah. So how's the job hunt?" "No luck. Every place that's open is fully staffed, and apparently the owners give jobs back to the returning students before hiring any new faces." "Tends to happen, but you'll find something eventually." "I hope so, not doing anything all day is staring to drive me nuts." "Well I see you have been hitting the gym. You're arms look bigger than when we first met. Oh hey there's Afano and Blake." Afano sits in the middle of a bench meant for three people; his shoulders make it impossible for somebody to sit next to him. Blake sits adjacent to Afano, on another bench, and is first to spot Drew and Tristan walking over. "You guys ready to go?" asks Blake. "I am" "Me too." "Alright let's go." "I was telling Tristan how his arms look bigger, compared to when we first met him," starts Drew as the group begins walking toward an exit. "It's hard to tell, with his height gain," says Afano, "that's why I keep telling him to hit the gym. He's surprisingly strong, I mean you look strong, but you definitely are lifting out of your weight class," he continues as he looks at Tristan. "I used to work at a metal recycling center, so I'm used to lifting heavy things.." "So is that the kind of job you're looking for?" asks Drew. "Not really. I mean the money was great, but I'd rather not spend all day lugging around metal scrapes under the hot sun." "That's how you got shredded, by lugging metal?" "That and eating healthy." The group passes by a tall mirror, positioned right between two bathrooms. Afano takes a moment to admire himself. The Samoan giant is literally spilling out of his stringer tank top. His immense pecs are so large the fabric can't reach over to fully cover his exposed nibbles. Afano smiles to his reflection and begins running his hands over his abs. Blake takes notices that Afano's gargantuan arms and pecs are missing from his peripheral vision. He turns around to spot the giant flexing in front of the mirror. "Guys wait up, we got a bit of self-worshiping going on," says Blake to Drew and Tristan. "There's nothing wrong with admiring your body. God I spend so many hours in the gym, I should be allowed to walk around shirtless anywhere I want," decrees the giant as he removes his tank top and continues flexing. After striking several poses, Afano leaves his reflection and walks back to the group. However, instead of taking his position next to Blake, he walks right up to Tristan. He close to three inches taller than the new comer, but significantly wider. Much wider, so much wider, any person standing behind the giant wouldn't know there was a young man facing opposite the giant. "Is something wrong?" "No not really. Walking over here, I noticed that you look 'small.'” He pauses for a moment to take a look around, “Mostly everyone here is wearing some sort of tank top and shorts, except you. At and around the apartment you go shirtless sometimes, and you're unbelievably shredded and you have mass. But every time we go out, you always wear a t-shirt and jeans, to hide your muscles and make yourself look small." "Okay, where is this going?" "You have an insane physique, the kind most guys would kill to have, and most girls would do anything to fuck. So how come you hide it?" "I wear what I find comfortable, which is mostly t-shirts and jeans. If my physique is hidden it's because the clothing is loose, not because I'm consciously hiding anything. Besides, why does any of this matter to you?" Afano thinks over the question for a moment, still shirtless. Some of the few mall goers stare at his immense body; some turned on, others repulsed by the bulging oversized muscles. Opposite the giant, mall goers either see Blake or Drew; they pay little if any attention to Tristan. Blake breaks the silence, "You look weird." Before Afano can add to the conversation, Drew begins talking, "Let me explain. When we first interviewed you for the spare room, you didn't strike us as anything really all that notable. No tattoos, no piercings, no strange mannerisms, honestly neither your personality nor physical appearance were noteworthy, or at least at first. When we started narrowing down the candidates, you sort of popped up. That guy with brown eyes, black hair, over six feet; we called you up again and arranged another meeting during your next college visit. Then we agreed to offer up the room." "I'm gonna be honest. The second time you showed up, I thought, 'this guy is pretty cute,'" adds Afano, "During your second visit, I couldn't help but notice how your facial features just popped out, or that you were relatively tall and looked solid. Then actually living with you, pretty cute became really handsome, and solid became shredded as fuck." "Tons of people have said that to me. I still don't get the point." "I'm just saying you should show off a little. Add a little swagger to your walk, wear tighter clothes, do something," urges Afano, oddly full of passion. "Yeah, if he didn't pester you to go to the gym, you probably won't have left the apartment at all, I mean except to look for a job. You're 18 and on your own, and the first thing you do is look for a job. Seriously?" adds Blake. "Of course I'm going to search for a job, I need to support myself." "You have plenty of money saved up," counters Afano. "Hey, some friends of mine are throwing are throwing a big birthday party at the end of the month, and we're taking you. No objections," "Okay." "Alright so it's settled, we are going to get you shit-faced. Also you're going to the gym with Blake and me." "Alright, alright, just so long was we can leave; we've been standing here forever." The next day, Tristan spends mid-morning and all afternoon searching for a possible job in another town, but turns up empty handed. He drives to the apartment to switch clothes and then drives toward the university gym. The gym is incredibly large, and well stocked, but most surprisingly it's open 24/7. Once through the doors he immediately spots Afano, Blake and even Drew, who usually works out during the mornings. "Alright so I'm ready to do something." The next day. "Should my legs have a pulse?" "That's normalish, especially for such an intense work out. Here drink this and take these," says Drew as he gives Tristan a glass of water and various pills. Tristan takes the pills and swallows them, along with several gulps of water before asking, "What do they do?" "Most people ask and then sallow. There's protein in the water, the pills are to help promote muscle repair and growth. You are going to need a ton of these." "Does any of that stuff actually work? I mean there are tons of vitamins that don't do a damn, other than led to really expensive urine." "Trust me these work. The month after I started taking all this stuff, I gained some pretty serious mass, and I increased all my lifts. Believe me; you'll want these to maximize your results." Tristan looks down at his calves; no longer red or swollen. They look exactly the same as they did yesterday; however, the muscle tissues have been completely destroyed. Every time his brain sends a signal to his calves, they angrily respond by bursting into pain. "I feel like dying. You people are monsters." Afano walks into the kitchen to find Tristan, legs spread out wide in a V. "You're the monster. Fuck, for a novice, you squatted weights that experienced lifters would be proud of," smiles Afano. "I get the impression I shouldn't have done that." "Maybe not for your first time, but you need to push yourself to get real results," says Drew. Tristan stares at Drew and Afano, both wearing just boxers and sandals. Drew has a solid V shaped torso, though Tristan's attention immediately goes to his bulky arms and pecs. Those specific body parts look like they belong on somebody who weighs a good twenty pounds more. Still, Drew doesn't seem to be out of proportion, in fact his confidence and natural charisma seem to flow into his muscles. He likes his large upper body and works hard to build and maintain it, and he can somehow look impressive even while standing next to Afano. The college senior outweighs Drew by close to a hundred pounds and is four inches taller; his body screams power and strength. Afano's muscles aren't as toned as Drew's, which isn't to say they are soft or flabby, but are instead just plain bulky. His waist is probably 40 something inches, though it looks significantly smaller do to his immense shoulders. His legs and arms look like a grocer stuffed several melons into long plastic brown bags. His bulbous body occupies an absurd amount of space, every time he moves the kitchen seems to get smaller. "Tristan, you still in there?" "W...what?" "We were asking about your old job. Didn't you ever get sore?" "Sometimes, but I was never expected to move almost double my body weight, using just my legs." "Well the more you do it, the less it'll hurt." "I doubt that." Tristan gets up to walk away. Upon standing his legs buckle, almost turning to jelly. He takes a step toward his bathroom, immediately his legs respond by shouting, "Fuck you," with every step. Right, "fuck." Left, "you." After a short eternity of searing pain, Tristan sits in his bathtub running a warm bath. He stretches out his tall body, out along the tub and tries to relaxing, before falling asleep for two hours. For the next three weeks Tristan continues going to the gym with his roommates, to avoid their nagging to, "do something." Initially the workouts are hellish, but gradually his body begins to adapt to the harsh one or two hour sessions. The soreness following a day's work out becomes less severe, and his recovery time decreases. Tristan puts on a shirt from back home. After two months, a little over an inch in height, and several pounds of muscle, the shirt is snug. It shows off his chest and arms nicely, but still hides his abs. His shorts reveal a pair of matching brownish calves covered with sinewy muscle, and covered with a dusting of hair. Glancing over his reflection, on his bathroom mirror, Tristan walks out to find Blake standing outside his bedroom door. "The guys wanted to check if you were ready." "Just need my wallet." Blake watches as Tristan bends his arm to pick up his wallet. A month ago his bicep would have sort-of-mostly filled the sleeve, but now it actually stretches the sleeve. He notes how Tristan's shirt hugs his pecs and upper arms, yet is incredibly loose around his waist. 'He needs to tailor his shirts,' thinks Blake as he and Tristan head out the door. As Tristan walks to Blake's truck, Afano and Drew take notice of his newly improved physique. They have been monitoring his developments, but today he really shines. In the rear view mirror, Afano is treated to a full view of Tristan climbing into the truck. He notices how round and tight Tristan's ass looks in those shorts greenish brown shorts. The shorts themselves are positively hideous, but a fine ass can make even the ugliest of shorts or paints stunning. Blake begins driving toward a house located near the end of the county line. A lone house, two stories tall and surrounded by trees and hills. No a single neighbor in any direction for almost an entire mile. Already the music is blaring and there are people running around with red cups in hand. "So little buddy, welcome to your first of many parties."
  19. Luvsmusl

    "The Anatomy Lesson"

    “THE ANATOMY LESSON” by LuvsMusl “Brian?” He was surprised to hear Coach Porter calling him from the other end of the locker room. Brian had taken to putting in extra sessions in the weight room after practice. The school’s compact but well equipped gym was usually packed with other kids, football players and wrestlers, mostly, until six o’clock or so. He would take a half hour break after football practice, gulp a mix of high energy carbs and BCAA’s, and then grab an hour or so in the gym by himself, lifting intensely without any distractions. Lifting was his passion, his obsession. He had no particular plans to seriously pursue bodybuilding or any other sport. He just loved the feel of the iron, and seeing himself get stronger week by week, and watching his muscles grow steadily bigger and harder. He looked up and smiled as Porter strolled toward him. “You’re here pretty late, Coach. Prepping for Friday night?” A jayvee game was being played the following evening. “No, just catching up on lesson plans and stuff. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Brian shrugged slightly, pantomiming ‘what do you mean?’ “I’m about to do Anatomy with my senior Men’s Health class. Our class, I should say, since you’re in it.” “Okay…” “I was watching you in the weight room earlier…” Brian reddened a little, somewhat disconcerted at the thought that Coach had been secretly spying on him while he trained. “…And I was thinking. What if instead of just using those dumb charts, like every year, I get an actual guy, one of my athletes, to stand in front of the class and model the different joints and muscle groups as I point them out?” “Y’ mean –“ Porter chuckled at the anxious look on Brian’s face. “Yeah, dummy, I mean you. Just look at how well-defined your muscles are. It’ll be much clearer to people what I’m talking about than if I just point at flat diagrams on a chart. Am I right?” Brian went into his own head for a moment. He wasn’t much of an exhibitionist. Of course, it always made him feel good when girls, or other guys, made comments about how great his body looked. But now he pictured himself standing naked, or almost naked, in front of a room full of his classmates and teammates, being made to pose and flex. He couldn’t quite decide whether he hated the idea… or if… Porter decided for him. “Let’s just spend half an hour and see if we can plan it out. Grab a quick shower and then come on back to my office. Just your briefs. We can do a Speedo or something on Monday.” Without giving Brian a chance to answer, the coach turned and strode back toward his office. In the shower Brian thought more about the idea as he soaped himself up and started rinsing off. He was suddenly more focused than normal on his hard-earned eight pack, his thick pecs, his muscled arms and legs… all the while imagining the other guys in class staring at him in astonishment. In envy. Fuck, he suddenly thought. Why am I hard? A little disturbed that the image of himself preening and flexing in front of the twenty other men in his health class turned him on so much, he got to work furiously stroking his meaty cock (“My best body part,” he would joke whenever a girlfriend saw his thick 9.5 inches for the first time.) The giant boner was refusing to cooperate. He had to turn off the shower head and keep grabbing more palmfuls of pink liquid soap. Coach is waiting, he thought. How long have I been in here? Finally, to get the job done, Brian turned his mind back to the image of him flexing his massive physique in front of a roomful of admiring, lesser men. This got him a little closer. To cross the finish line he had to flex his pumped-up left bicep, and stare hard at the thick vein that crossed the deep, perfect separation between the muscle’s two heads. At the same time cranking his swollen tool with the other hand until finally, thankfully, he came, in a series of five emphatic spurts. Red-faced and breathless, he turned on the cold water to rinse his river of cum off the shower tiles, and off where it had splattered back onto his thighs. Porter sat at his desk, nervously laying out his anatomy notes. What’s taking him? “Coach?” He looked up and saw Brian, a little shy in skimpy red briefs, filling his office doorway. Filling was the right word. Dirty blond hair still wet from the shower, the kid, without gym shorts or a tank top interrupting the flow of his physique, looked like a young god. Porter felt something stirring downtown, and reflexively averted his eyes, glancing, for a moment, at the framed photo of his wife and two kids on the desk. “I’m, uh… ready when you are,” Brian mumbled, the hesitation in his voice suggesting otherwise. “Good. Good. We’ll get started in a sec.” Porter stood up, not sure how to begin. He found it literally impossible to avoid staring at the kid’s beautifully symmetrical, exquisitely sculpted body. He’d seen Brian in clothes, or in his football uniform, a thousand times. But seeing him now, like this, he realized that the boy’s perfect proportions disguised the reality of how big and full his muscles actually were. “My God, Brian, you really do have an amazing physique. What are you weighing right now?” “One ninety-seven, Coach,” Brian offered proudly. “My goal is to hit two ten by the end of the school year. Without sacrificing this…” He ran his palm over his flat, shredded midsection. Coach smiled. “A hard two ten, huh? And you’re what? Five eleven?” “Five nine.” Porter let out an impressed whistle. “That’ll be quite an accomplishment. Especially for a 17 year-old.” “I’m 18, actually. I missed a lot of school the year my family moved here, so I repeated fourth grade.” Porter felt himself blushing bright red and it terrified him, sickened him even, that his heart had leapt when he heard that Brian was over 18. What was he thinking? Brian noticed it, too. Was Coach turned on by him? Could Jack Porter, the school’s famously tough, macho, hard ass football coach possibly be aroused by the sight of his shirtless body? Were his muscles that impressive? He had no conscious intention to test this. But, apparently, there was an unconscious urge, because without any thought Brian tensed his pecs and they jumped for a second, ever so subtly, briefly revealing the nice separation between his upper and lower chest, and the deep indentations where the side of his pectoral muscles flowed into his delts. The look that flashed momentarily in Porter’s eyes told Brian everything. Oddly, instead of feeling uncomfortable he found himself growing more relaxed. Fully on purpose this time he lifted his arms and clasped his hands casually behind his head, knowing full well that this would accentuate the V-taper of his torso, bring his obliques into high relief, and flex his biceps into perfect, solid globes beside his head. “Let’s do this,” he said, suddenly sounding like the man in charge. Porter cleared his throat, knowing that if he didn’t his voice would break. “Um… I usually start with the midsection.” Brian moved to lower his hands, but the coach stopped him. “No, keep ‘em like they were, that’s perfect.” Brian interlaced his fingers behind his head again, this time tensing his body so that everything popped. “Yes, yes, that’s good,” Porter said, his words colored with way more excitement than he’d intended to convey. “I won’t do my whole spiel. But I’ll start by talking about your... your… uh… rectus abdominus… upper obliques… serratus anterior…” As he listed the muscles Porter’s hands moved over Brian’s body, gently at first, outlining each muscle as he named it, then pointing out all the individual examples of that type. “Very impressive, Brian,” he said, unable to stop himself from commenting. “Looks like every muscle in your body is perfectly developed.” “Thanks, I work hard at it.” Throughout the process Brian had kept watching the coach’s face, his eyes, enjoying the extreme reaction his physique was causing in the older man. It wasn’t clear whether Porter noticed his own breathing getting heavier, or his fingers spending more and more time on each of the muscles he enumerated… stroking and feeling its density, its elegant shape, its meaty perfection. But Brian noticed, and it thrilled him to his core. I fucking own this guy, he thought. I bet I could get him to do anything. As if sensing Brian’s thoughts the coach’s voice got a little soft and dreamy as he continued his exploration: “External intercostals. Beautiful.” He forgot to talk for the next minute or so as his hands continued wandering, tracing the transversus abdominus -- the muscular V that framed Brian’s lower abs -- and finally rested, once again, in the middle of the boy’s phenomenal, marble sculpture of a stomach. “Punch me,” Brian said. “What?” “Hit me, Coach, with your closed fist, as hard as you can.” Porter chuckled nervously. “I boxed in college, Brian. I had twenty-two amateur fights, I won most of them. Trust me, you don’t want me to hit you.” “If you want to touch any more of my muscles you’ll do it. And not a love tap, either. I want you to pull back and slam me with 100% of your full strength.” The coach was incredibly aroused by Brian’s confidence. And he craved seeing just how strong, how rock solid the kid’s magnificent eight pack was. He set his stance for maximum leverage, pulled his big fist back, and torqued his entire, solid 230 pounds toward Brian’s midsection. The 18 year-old didn’t budge, not a centimeter, didn’t register the blow at all, as Porter’s fist connected with the cinder-block wall that was his midsection. “Fuck!” Coach shouted in pain and pulled his arm back, moving his fingers to see whether any of the bones in his hand had cracked or even broken. Brian laughed, reveling more and more in his newfound power. “Pretty fucking hard, right? Tell the truth. You’ve never anyone with a body like this, let alone a kid.” He put his hands on his 28 inch waist and flared his lats, creating a mind-blowing V in a move that also showcased his spectacular, pumped-up delts, biceps, triceps, pecs… and of course that stone wall of a stomach. The coach was momentarily speechless. “N… No, Sir.” The ‘Sir’ surprised Brian. But no less than it shocked Porter, who had no idea why it had come out of his mouth. Well, he had some idea. Emboldened, Brian bent his right arm under his chin and flexed it, causing a diamond hard, perfectly shaped bicep peak to rise like a steely half moon above his brachialis. “Hey, Coach,” he teased. “Feel that shit. You know you want to.” Coach put his still-aching hand on the boy’s bicep and squeezed it, flushing with delight at how insanely hard and ungiving it was. He might as well have been squeezing a cue ball or a trailer hitch. “Go ahead, kiss it if you want. Put it in your mouth.” Porter met the boy’s gleaming eyes, which showed just how much Brian was getting off on teasing and dominating him. He leaned forward and kissed the stunningly perfect bicep as Brian flexed it again, making it even harder. Porter put his mouth around the granite sphere and sucked it as if it were a thick, juicy cock, slurping and moaning in delight. He would have gone on forever if Brian hadn’t finally stopped him, pushing the coach’s head away, disappointment and frustration darkening the older man’s face. “You like that, don’t you,” Brian teased, now “popping” the beautiful peak, making it jump, over and over, from flaccid to granite hard, a perfectly shaped beef balloon bouncing and swelling. “Boom! Boom! Boom!” “I like it very much, Sir.” “I’m a thousand times the man you’ll ever be. You know that, don’t you? And I’m still in fucking high school.” Brian was on auto-pilot now, improvising, riding his muscle bronco for all it was worth. “Yes, Brian. I mean, yes, Sir. It’s true.” “Fucking right it’s true. You’re hardly a man at all, compared to me. More like a worm. An insect. Next to this you’re nothing.“ He hit a tight most-muscular pose and his 18 year-old body congealed into an edifice of powerful, carved-up beef, veins like quarter-inch pipes throbbing in his thick neck, his brutal shoulders, his ungodly muscular arms. As the boy held the pose, twisting slightly left and right to deliver the full measure of his intimidating virility, Porter couldn’t keep himself from reaching down and stroking the excited thing that was growing inside his gym shorts. Seeing this, Brian stopped flexing, pushed the coach’s hand aside and grabbed hold of the man’s hard cock through his pants. “Is that what my big muscles do to you?” He squeezed Porter’s dick a little harder. “Yes, Sir. I love your big muscles. I live for your muscles.” Brian grinned, still not letting go. “Does it ever get this hard for Mrs. Porter?” He tightened his grip even more, staring into the coach’s eyes, grinning with amused contempt, a bald challenge. A surge of fury formed in the older man’s gut and rose to his throat, an instinctive reaction to his pupil’s brazen disrespect. But before Coach could act on this Brian lifted his callused palm to the coach’s cheek and gave it a patronizing pat. “It’s okay, Jack. My body has reduced better men than you to complete submission. Much better men.” Porter’s anger instantly shrank to a tiny pebble, washed away in the tidal wave of the muscleboy’s cockiness, his effortless dominance. A wet spot of pre-cum had started growing on the front of the coach’s pants. “Okay, let’s finish the lesson. I’ll flex my big teenage muscles and you tell my homies what they’re looking at.” Brian turned his back on Porter and unpacked a masterful rear biceps shot, a sweeping landscape of sculpted flesh that caused the coach to grab his desk for support. The boy reached his hands up and pulled his back into a tighter version of the pose, forcing even deeper valleys in the mountain range of thick muscle: “I’m waiting.” “Sorry, Sir. I’m sorry…” He had to catch his breath before he could start. “Well, um… those are your… your...” “Yeah, yeah, my fucking traps. My fucking lats. My beautiful fucking rhomboids. You’re boring me.” “But –“ “Shut up, worm. What about my glutes? …Are we going to talk about my glutes, Coach?” Without turning back around Brian pulled his briefs down and kicked them out of the way. Porter found himself staring at the most staggeringly beautiful 18 year-old muscle ass in the history of human asses. His knees buckled and he was on the floor, reduced to servitude by the sheer force of youthful male perfection that loomed in front of him. Brian clenched his curvaceous onion and it consolidated into a rock hard matrix of gluteal magnificence – deep grooves and solid ridges striping his shapely butt like the protective armor of some prehistoric creature. Coach made a little noise, from deep in his throat, like the cry of a dying loon. And then he lunged forward, propelling his face toward the tawny curve, the shadowy crescent that promised the fulfillment of his darkest, most joyful and secret dreams. But before Porter’s tongue could find its target Brian pivoted around and whacked Coach in the jaw with his massive billy club of an erect cock. When the older man recovered Brian grinned and wagged his big piece in Coach’s face, making it bounce with pure muscle control, which left his hands free to stroke his abs seductively. “It’s quite a bit bigger than yours, Jack. I guess that’s no surprise.” “No, Sir.” “Maybe if you’re a good boy I’ll let you suck this muscle cock.” “I’ll be a good boy, Sir. I promise.” “Who owns you, little man?” “You do, Sir.” Coach jerked a little, he was starting to cum in spite of himself. “Who’s your muscle master?” “You are!” “Who?” “You, Sir! Brian! Brian Hansen!” Brian laughed and shoved his battering ram of a tool into Coach’s mouth. He grabbed the back of Porter’s head and slammed it repeatedly against his own hard abs, rhythmically fucking the older man’s face as Porter gagged and choked in delirious ecstasy… holding on for dear life to the teen muscleman’s flaring vastus lateralis. With each hard thrust Brian yelled out a command: “Take that teenage cock! Eat that nasty dick muscle! Brian Hansen is God! Brian’s muscles rule your worthless life.” Coach gargled a worshipful assent, somehow forcing it past the wide pillar of cock that filled his throat. Suddenly Brian pulled out, stepping back and stroking his swollen red erection, which was still slick with the coach’s saliva. “You want some of this hot muscleboy cum?” “Yes, Sir!” “How bad do you want it?” “More than anything! A million times more than anything I’ve ever wanted!” “Then work for it. Talk about my muscles.” Brian continued massaging his engorged cock, no longer looking at Coach but instead giving full attention to his raging boner as Porter clamored to gather his thoughts and began talking: “You’re the king of muscle. You’re a boy with the body of a god. Your biceps are giant mountains of male power. Your body is the Master of all men. Every time you flex your giant muscles it’s like you’re fucking my brain, my heart, my soul. Fuck me, Muscle God! Fuck me with your big, powerful, fucking muscles!” Brian was getting closer. “Don’t stop! Grab hold of my balls.” The coach happily did what he was told. “I want your muscles, Brian. I love your muscles. Your muscles own me. I’m a lowly slave to your giant teenage muscles.” Brian was now really close. “Whose teenage muscles?” “Your teen age muscles! Muscle God Brian’s fucking powerful, godlike teenage muscles!” About to cum, Brian shoved the coach aside and continued the chant himself, crying out triumphantly with each stroke of his truly magnificent cock: “My muscles!... My muscles!... “Brian’s!... “Fucking!...Powerful!”... “Godlike!”….”MUSCLES!” And with that he shot, his 18 year-old firehose spewing thick muscleboy cum on the coach’s face, in his cum-hungry mouth, on his shirt, across the desk, drowning the anatomy notes in a huge pool of hot, creamy spooj. For a long moment they just sat there, man and boy (though it’s not entirely clear which was which), physically and emotionally spent. After a while Porter grabbed a gym towel and wiped the cum off his face. He smiled, shyly. “Thank you, Brian. I really mean it.” Brian shrugged. “No worries.” He stood up and noticed that his dick, still semi-erect, was continuing to drip cum on the coach’s carpet. Porter saw it, also. “Don’t bother about that. I’ll have the cleaning crew come in and spruce this place up on Saturday. Or maybe I’ll have the jayvee squad do it.” He chuckled at his own joke. “I guess I better go shower.” Porter looked up at the kid, who was more pumped and shredded than ever after the intense flexing session. Mother of Christ, he thought. That boy truly is a god. “Oh, Coach, one more thing. Could you maybe write me a pass to get out of fifth period on Monday? That way I can come here and pump up before Health class.” Porter grabbed his pad and scrawled out the note. He presented it to Brian, noticing the way the kid’s triceps flared into a huge, striated horseshoe as he leaned on the desk to take it from his hand.” “Thanks.” He flashed Porter a dazzling, toothy grin. “I can’t wait for Monday.” “Neither can I.” “And don’t worry, Coach. I won’t tell anyone you’re a fag.” He winked playfully and swaggered out of the office. His dimpled glutes seemed to mock Porter as they bounced and flexed into the darknesss of the locker room.
  20. Luvsmusl

    Muscle Memory by LuvsMusl

    MUSCLE MEMORY By LuvsMusl Cody was in rough shape when I picked him up from the hospital. For ten weeks he had been flat on his back, battling a nasty infection. Between the ravages of being sick, and his utter lack of appetite, he had lost at least 60 pounds off his once athletic, solid frame. In short, he was a wreck. He could move only very slowly, one labored step at a time, as I helped him to my car. During the 50 yard journey he needed to stop twice and take a minute or two to rest. But at least now the infection had been knocked back and he had been cleared to come home. I was every bit as happy as my roommate that now he could start moving a little more, rehabbing, and getting back to his old, healthy self. I won’t lie, I love the kid, and we’ve been friends for six years and roommates for two. It killed me to see him like that, and it was a huge relief that he was finally out of the woods. There was still one hurdle to jump, however. The infection had apparently crossed the blood-brain barrier, and his mind and memory were pretty dicey. The doctor was optimistic, but couldn’t guarantee that Cody would get his full mental agility back. For now, he was pretty good at recognizing and understanding whatever was right in front of him. He remembered my car, and knew the route home, and was instantly familiar with our apartment. But almost everything that happened before he got sick was kind of a blurry haze. He’d get a vague memory of something, and he’d say “Did we go to Clairmont together?” Or, “Do I know someone named Christine?” It was unsettling, to say the least. We got home, and as I was helping him to his bedroom Cody put a bony hand around my arm and squeezed my bicep. “Look at you,” he laughed. “Mr. Buff.” Then, sadly, “And then there’s me.” “A month or two and that won’t be a problem,” I told him. “Some healthy eating, maybe a slow reintroduction to the gym, and you’ll be a stud again. Dude, you’ve always been considerably bigger and harder than me.” “Was I?” He clearly had no memory of it, and seemed pretty skeptical. “It’s true. You’ve always been jacked, and you’re crazy good looking. No homo, but in shape you’re a muscular love god. Girls walk into traffic staring at you.” He laughed, still not quite buying it. “Okay, Mike, I’ll take your word for it. But you’ll be my motivation. Cause compared to me you look like fucking Hercules. No homo.” First day back at the gym was a little unnerving. It was like he’d never been there before, and had to be led to the locker room and then pointed to each training room or piece of equipment where we both had clocked hundreds of hours. The great thing, though, was that a dozen of our gym buddies stopped by at one point or another, to high-five Cody, tell him they’d missed him, and offer sincere encouragement. He clearly remembered and recognized a few of them. But with most of them he just played along, accepting their delighted back slaps and fist bumps, while shooting me a look of complete cluelessness. “I sure have some big-ass friends,” he whispered. “You do,” I told him. “But, trust me. In no time flat you’ll fit right in again. It’s called muscle memory.” To be honest, I thought maybe my words were a little too optimistic. On doctor’s orders, Cody took it slow and easy that first day. Light weights, not too many sets or reps. But he was definitely enjoying himself. He was like a caged up animal that is suddenly released back into its natural habitat. And at the end of the workout, damned if he didn’t have a nice little pump going. Miraculously, in three weeks Cody’s body was pretty close to what it had been before he got sick. He obviously had amazing powers of recovery. All of our friends were blown away, and people – inside the gym and everywhere else – couldn’t stop complimenting him on his remarkable comeback. In the locker room, as we showered and dressed, he couldn’t help hitting a proud double biceps pose in front of the mirror. “Is this pretty much how you remember me looking?” he asked. “Dude, you’re a tick away from your all-time best shape. Maybe even more shredded, since you dropped all that bodyfat while you were sick.” “You know, you were right. I am bigger and harder than you. Feel that.” He moved his perfectly shaped, baseball bicep in front of my face. “You’re kidding, right? I didn’t think we were those guys. Those ‘bro’, feel my bicep’ guys.” He laughed. But he didn’t move his arm away. Instead he flexed it a few times to pump some more blood into the two bulging heads, and, with a smile in his voice, challenged me again. “Bro’. Just fuckin’ feel it.” I did what he said. It was hard. A little disturbingly, so was I. I was switched to the night shift for the next couple of weeks, so I didn’t see much of Cody for the rest of the month. We texted back and forth, like always, and occasionally left smartass notes for each other on the fridge. “Hey, loverboy, pick up some laundry detergent,” stuff like that. Finally it worked out that we could spend part of a day together, so we made a date for the gym. On my drive there I realized that except for a glimpse or two of him bundled up among the twisted sheets and pillows on his bed I hadn’t laid eyes on my roommate for at least three weeks. I didn’t spot him on the gym floor. Glad that I wasn’t too horribly late I hustled to the locker room. No sign of him in there, either. Just some massive guy with his huge back to me, changing into his gym clothes. When he bent over to stuff his bag into a bottom locker his thick, perfect lats flared into a giant V the width of a Buick. And that beefy, solid, sculpted bodybuilder ass… Jesus! Let’s just say for a few seconds I not only forgot all about Cody, I forgot what year it was, I forgot my own name. The guy obviously felt me staring, and turned toward me as he scrunched up his tee shirt, getting ready to pull it over the mountains of beef that were pretending to be his shoulders. “Mike! You’re late.” …I think it’s called a fugue state. That thing where your mind and senses just go completely blank because they can’t process reality. I don’t know if I stood there gaping for twenty seconds or twenty minutes. But my next memory was Cody’s handsome face, blue eyes twinkling like in the best of times, breaking into a playful, welcoming smile. Instead of pulling the tee shirt on he straightened his back and tensed his…his muscles. I mean his MUSCLES. Brick wall, razor cut, vascular as hell, stacked and jacked, boner-inducing M… There was sweat running down the crack of my ass. “Dude, tell me the truth,” he said. We haven’t really seen each other for a couple weeks. Can you tell I got bigger? “Cody, are you kidding me? You’re fucking massive! How did you do this? You’re a monster! You look like you’ve put on thirty pounds, and you’re still ripped to the bone!” “I’m up fifty,” he said. “It’s funny. But I think my memory’s coming back. I started remembering what I looked like, and it’s like my body just began falling in line with it. Like you said, muscle memory.” He turned toward the mirror, grabbed one hand with the other, and flexed into a side chest shot. His pecs seemed to triple in size as they ballooned into granite-hard wedges of sheer muscle mass, giant domes of hard beef criss-crossed with rows of deep striations. He flexed a little harder and his upper chest got even bigger, swelling up to a few inches below his chin. It was mind blowing. “So is this how big you remember me?” he asked. “Dude. Stop playing with my head. You’ve never been this huge. I’m not sure anyone has, at least no one around here. You’re, like, fifty pounds more muscular than sophomore year, remember? When we both did that juice cycle and ate like 9,000 calories a day.” “Aw, Mike. That’s why you’re my friend. You always have something nice to say.” He held the pose a little longer, appraising himself in the mirror. “Actually, I‘m remembering that I was a little bigger than this. Maybe even a lot bigger.” He slapped his chiseled midsection and pulled on the shirt. “Let’s hit the weights.” I’ve never trained harder in my life. Cody kept slapping plates onto the bar till we hit our normal max for each exercise, and then he’d drive me through a couple more sets, spotting me as lightly as he could as I grunted and strained to move more weight than I ever had. He was moving like a demon, no rest between sets, yelling out “Come on! This isn’t nap time!” if I tried to pause a moment. By the end of each movement my muscles were burning and quivering, and more than a few times I felt like I might heave. Thankfully, I got a break at the end of each exercise as Cody did an additional two brutal sets without me, usually maxing out at twice the highest weight we’d lifted together. At the end of our workout I could barely stand up. We grabbed our stuff and this time Cody had to help me to the car, more or less carrying me on the couple of occasions I started to lag. “Great workout,” he said as he poured me into the passenger seat. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” As he drove us home I very quickly began to nod out, as the blood drained from my head and rushed into my traumatized muscle fibers. And other places. The last thing I remember was glancing over at Cody as he drove, and wondering if I was hallucinating or if that ungodly huge thing hanging from the steering wheel, that veiny globe of meat that looked like a python digesting a hippo, really was his right arm. I came to on our battered sofa in the living room. Cody, in his briefs, handed me a shake. “Drink,” he said. “Carbs and protein, good stuff.” As I sipped my shake he chugged his. “Bro’, that was kickass. Insane pump, right?” He flipped on a light and strode to the middle of the room. Glancing in the little mirror over our dinette table, he started moving fluidly through a series of bodybuilding poses, watching his chest, his arms, his back, his shoulders as he kept flexing, ridges and striations looking sharper and sharper as he forced even more blood into his engorged muscles. “Mike, check it out,” he said. “Like Arnold in ‘Pumping Iron.’” He caught my eye as I stared in amazement. “It can’t be possible. But I swear you look twenty pounds bigger than when we left the gym,” I said. “Y’know, I think I do. I keep remembering, more and more, how I used to look, and I think my body is gradually getting there.” “Getting there? You’re there, bud, you’re miles past there. I think that virus did something crazy to your self-perception.” He looked at me in a strange way. As if taking me in for the first time. “Look at you,” he grinned, “sitting there all stiff and formal. The workout’s over, we’re home, get comfortable, kick back.” Before I could stop him he was playfully pulling my shoes and socks off, and then my gym shorts and my shirt. I tried to resist, giggling nervously like a teenaged girl, but he was just too strong. Pushing back against his powerful arms I felt like a little boy trying to fend off a grown man. When at last he’d stripped me to my bikini briefs I quickly grabbed a pillow to hide what was happening in my lap. Cody darted to his gym bag and fished around inside it for something. “I brought us a little present,” he said, and pulled a thick, expertly rolled joint from the bag. “Weed? Where did you get that?” “Oh, some girl at the gym gave it to me. And also her phone number.” “What girl?” “Kathy?... Cassie?... I don’t remember. Apparently I fucked her once.” “Apparently she liked it.” “Hey,” he said. “Here’s something else I remembered. That I could do this.” He came closer to me, jiggled his relaxed quad, then clenched it into a hard flex. Sweeping canyons and ridges of human rock exploded into enormous, sculpted columns. I gasped a little, then quickly looked up to see if he had clocked my reaction. His face was covered with a shit eating grin. I’m pretty sure he was teasing me. “For a while I forgot I had these ridonkulous wheels. And calves.” He turned, lowered his marble ass toward the floor, and flexed his calf. Two torpedos of fierce-looking muscle bulged side by side beneath the crook of his knee. “Wanna feel ‘em?” “I’m okay,” I mumbled, clutching the pillow tighter to my lap. “Why don’t we fire that thing up?” “Great idea.” He took a wooden match from a cup on the table, struck it with his thumb nail and lit the joint. He sucked in a prodigious toke, chest swelling as he filled his lungs. Then he sat beside me on the couch and handed me the blunt. As I took a hit I saw him staring down at his midsection. It was insanely beautiful. Perfect rows of hard symmetrical abs framed by the thick fingers of his upper obliques and the powerful V of his transversus abdominis, its two muscular branches converging on either side of his elegant, tawny pleasure trail. All of it pointing downward, down below the waistband of his briefs, down toward the inviting bulge straining against the cotton. Cody and I, both thoroughly baked, sat in silence a moment, staring at the pretty pattern made by those perfect muscles of his lower torso. After a moment Cody spoke. “Do me a favor, Mike. Run your fingers along the ridges between my abs. You know, like you used to do. Checking out how deep they are.” I didn’t honestly remember ever doing that. But I was really high, so I didn’t question it. I gently led my index finger up and down the valleys between his cobblestone abs, enjoying the feel, and the sight, of my digit disappearing to the second knuckle between those hillocks of muscle. After a minute Cody put his thick hand over mine, stopping me. But still clutching my fingers against his hard gut. “Do you know what else I remember?” he asked, pausing for effect. “I remember how sometimes we’d get a good buzz on after our workout and then you’d go crazy sucking my cock.” I started pulling my hand away. Pretty sure this was something I did not remember. “Okay, Cody, stop fucking around,” I said. “That, just now, was definitely not cool.” He continued to hold my hand in his powerful grip. There was nothing I could do about it. “No, really, Mike, this is something I completely remember. And I’m pretty sure you do, too.” “Well, you’re wrong,” I said. At which point he let go of my hand, reached over and pulled the pillow away from my lap, letting my hard, and by now throbbing cock surge upright, breaching the top of my bikini briefs like a big, happy whale rising through the surface of the Pacific. “See, you do remember,” he said. And then Cody kicked off his briefs, and gently but powerfully guided my head to his beautiful cock. I took it in my mouth and something inexplicable happened. Even though I had never done this before, or anything close to it, I actually did seem to remember. Or maybe it was the dope. In any case, it was clear that whatever I was “remembering” was working really well for Cody. And his deep grunts and groans of pleasure helped me remember better and better. A few seconds before he was about to cum Cody pulled his muscle cock out of my mouth and we both sat back and stroked off together, finishing, perfectly in unison, with an eruption of glistening joy juice that rivaled the dancing waters in Las Vegas. After a moment of blissful, breathless stillness, we toweled off and Cody helped me off the couch and guided me toward the bathroom. Standing behind him in the cramped shower stall under a stream of soothing water, I massaged soap onto his wide, muscled back. Euphorically exploring the thick hardness of his traps, his rear delts, the dense, rigid columns of his erector spinalis. My hands now had a mind of their own, and quickly skated down his smooth skin to the solid, triumphant curves of his magnificent ass. It was the Chartres Cathedral of asses, the Parthenon, the Taj Mahal of perfect, sculpted bubble butts. As my fingers slipped through the entrance, soaping him up between his glorious buttocks, my cock suddenly was rock hard again. Poking, without my help, into the soapy pathway I had just created. “You know what?” I said. “I just remembered something else. Do you remember how, sometimes after our workouts, we would shower together and I would fuck you senseless with my big, thick, pile-driver cock?” There was a moment of silence as he considered this. “I’m not sure I do remember,” he said. “Remind me.”
  21. FREaky

    Antialpha Part 2

    Antialpha Part 2 By F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2656-antialpha/ Bo wasn't sure how long he stayed in the shower. He knew it was way too long as he was shivering and nearly freezing cold when he stepped out and he had it on almost nothing but hot water. Shakily he toweled himself dry, grabbed something to eat and then changed the bed sheets, crawling back in and under the covers to warm himself up and ponder what was happening. He couldn't help but think about it. There, nude and moving around, his now enormous cock swung like a clock pendulum between his legs. It was so long and thick it pulled on his groin just hanging there, let alone when he walked causing it to sway. Worse yet, his ball were now just as huge comparatively, thick, meaty, heavy, and they pulled on the underside of his groin causing a sensation that was driving him insane, making him horny with every step he took. Once that kicked in he started to get semi-erect which then only added to the length and the girth and thus the weight and the pull on his groin. "What the fuck do I do?" Bo wondered as he attempted to assume a fetal position in his bed, but even that was difficult because of the epic equine like cock and balls he now possessed. Back and forth his mind wondered... "Am I still a twink with this endowment?..." "Yeah...twink are described because of body type right?" "I'm still very small and extremely thin, slight bubble butt, smooth all over..." "But do men who like twinks want one that is hung like an horse? a bull? an elephant?" "What will they say when they get me aroused and discover I'm bigger than them? Far bigger than them." Bo stayed that way for a couple of hours, trying to figure out what to do. It was alright for him to lie there as his schedule was free and he had made being a twink his living, so there was no job, no boss, other than himself and his ass. He had more than enough in gifts and money stashed away to keep him set up for quite a while. Finally as he noticed the hues of the setting sun blending into the wall, filtering through the curtains and blinds, he decided he would have to face reality and test the market as a new man... "It's not like I can have plastic surgery and have part of it removed right?" Bo felt his cock recede just a bit at the thought of someone taking a scalpel and removing a section of it. He could tell it was just one of those bodily knee jerk reactions of the penis, like when men see someone kicked in the groin or step into an ice bath in movies and on TV. He secretly wished though that the shrinkage was permanent and he could then just think thoughts of being dissected until his cock shrunk back to its four inches in length erect. But, as that wasn't happening, he decided to get up and get out. It was Thursday night and that meant the weekend was starting for some guys and there would definitely be someone out there looking for some action and a fine piece of boi-toy ass with which to do it. Gayvers.... that's where he'd head out to tonight - the gay ravers club. Pulling out electric blue sneakers, a hot pink tank top, and a pair of black pants with hot pink triangles all over them, he slowly stepped into them after putting on an electric blue thong. He stood back after putting on the thong and wondered if the pouch looked too obscene, too huge? "Of course it looks obscene." He thought to himself. "I'm a man who's not even five feet tall and I have almost a foot and half long cock when erect. Can't ball up something that's damn near a third leg on me and not have it look obscene. If I pushed that pouch up towards my stomach, I'd look pregnant!" Adjusting himself several times positioning the pouch one side to the other, up high, or up low, or snaking the cock down his pants leg, he finally decided that snaking the cock down the pants leg was the best option as even in the cargo style pants he would wear, it looked far too much like he was sneaking in a toy Chihuahua or something with his meat all balled up in a package. Then a thought struck him..."What happens if some guy really turns me on? My member hangs down to my knees. I can't have a wet spot suddenly forming around me knee caps, even if the club is dark and only lit by strobe and neon lights. Deciding to wear a regular latex condom on the tip of his cock, he realized how much his life would change as even in its flaccid state, his cock was too big for the condoms he usually wore. As the protective sheaths kept ripping and busting on even his flaccid prick, he finally got a small zip lock baggie and placed it over the head of his cock securing it with a hair bungee behind the helmet. The problem of his package taken care of, Bo put on the rest of his clothes and then grabbed the proper accessories, electric blue fringe and glow sticks that hung about on this clip and that on his cargo pants, as well as several wrist bands and necklaces that had the pink and blue neon coloring. He stepped out of his apartment building and into the night, walking towards a monorail station realizing he needed to adjust his gate and step as he did so. The smallness of the thong versus the size and weight of his balls had them cascading over either side, giving him a sense of freeballing, and his cock pulling off down one pant leg did nothing to help keep the thong secured over his left testicle. The rubbing of his pants against his cock, even worse the movement near the knee, making the cargo pants rub against his cock head, was creating such strong sensations for him, he nearly stumbled a few times from some of the graceful grazings, the beautiful brushes, the tantalizing touches on his prick head. He had never known himself to be so thankful as to be able to sit down like he was when get got into the monorail. "If that is arousing me so much as I'm walking, how the fuck am I going to be able to dance?" Bo thought to himself. At the club, Bo hit the dance floor and the drinks hard, hoping to clear his mind and have a good night. He was a favorite out on the dance floor. Although he had to adjust a little bit due to the anaconda down his pants, he could still move just as he usually did, popping and rocking, sliding and ducking here and there, under some men's legs, around everyone on the dance floor, a blur of motion. The men who liked to feel big or even gigantic, were still attracted to him and hit on him left and right. Picking him up with easy, many grabbing his ass, treating him like a doll, a kid, kissing him on the neck, kissing him on the cheek, full blown kisses on the lips, and of course, dancing close to him and then turning so his face was a close as possible to their crotches. Bo was having a blast and he closed the place down. He wasn't to be alone however. Bo had found himself a date for the evening, Jessie. He was a tall man of about 6' 3", slender, but could pack on some size if he wanted, very broad shoulders even without any muscle mass, thick brown hair, very light hazel eyes, and a really cut smile. Jessie had bought most of the drinks for Bo that evening, and had even tipped Bo to dance with him several times that evening, tipping one-hundred dollars each time. He made a generous offer approaching Bo in the bathroom, pulling on Bo's waist band and depositing a roll of hundreds down Bo's pants and into his thong. His eyes got real big when he felt Bo's package. "Whoa! Dude...do you have room for this roll down there? Shorty is packing really long it seems." Bo ran a hand up Jessie's shirt and stroked it across Jessie's chest. "Well, if you're topping you won't have to look at it too much or at all, and you're still the bigger man by far...so tall and so broad. It won't matter my daddy was a horse will it?" Jessie, pulled Bo in by grabbing Bo's buttocks and giving them a full squeeze, and then planting a deep long kiss, with full tonsil check, before replying, "Not at all... if you're hole is as deep as your cock is long, we'll have a grand old time tonight and sleep it off in the morning." Bo giggled and grabbed Jessie's waist band leading them out back to where Jessie's car was. As Jessie and Bo faced the passenger side door so Jessie could unlock it and Bo get in, they suddenly heard a voice from behind them. "I'm sorry, sir, but this cum rag already has a date for this evening. You will have to meet accommodations elsewhere." The two men turned around and Jessie stood up to his full height. "Excuse me?" "Going to be difficult and take the high road are we?" And suddenly the man swung his foot, kicking Jessie in the nuts. "What the fuck are you doing?" screamed Bo, and tried to punch and kick the gentleman in front of them. Shoving Bo away and to the ground, the man pulled out what looked like a small billy club and cracked it over the head of Jessie and he went down instantly. The man searching picked up Jessie's keys off the ground, opened the driver's side door and put the seat all the way back and down and then placed Jessie there. Other men had arrived and were holding Bo both at his arms and his mouth keeping him still and quiet. Once Jessie was laying, alive but unconscious in his car, the man put the car keys in Jessie's pocket, locked the doors and then shut the driver's side door. He then turned and faced Bo. "Right then... we're going to take a little ride. You made a bad call last night, little man. You pissed off Chaz Donatelli... and people don't piss off Chaz Donatelli. He's not sure what you did to him last night, but he's going to have his way with you like he wanted and he'll get it this evening." The three men escorted Bo to another car, got him into the back seat with the two other gentlemen sitting beside him while the third who spoke to him got up front to drive. He sped out of the parking lot of Gayvers Club and into the night down the highway. Bo had no idea what to do. His heart was racing, pounding, and felt like it had moved up into the middle of his throat. He couldn't breathe, he was going to pass out, or his blood vessels were surely going to explode. But suddenly he felt that weird sensation again, as if he was being pinched on the arms. Both arms. On his forearms to be exact and as his eyes rolled in the back of his head, it felt as though once again some small spot on his body, from the forearms this time, stretched out in some kind of line and made contact. On strand went to the gentleman on his right and made contact with his hand. The other strand made two lines, one that connected with guy on Bo's left - with his hand, while the second stretch up and made contact with the driver's neck. All men began to groan and moan, while wincing as if they were in some kind of pain. The driver suddenly tensed and flinched, his head jerking back, his legs slamming forward. The car began to accelerate to an alarming speed, while the driver attempted to keep steering to control the car, but his arms were firmly locked in convulsive like spasms. Eventually hitting an area where the road curved, the car not being guided to make the turn, hit the curb hard, causing it to launch into the air and even to turn. The car made a sickening thud on its roof onto the ground skidding across a gardened area and then back onto and partially across a parking lot. The men dazed battered and bruised lay there moaning, crying, bleeding. Bo was laying on the ceiling of the car, shaking, feeling a warm sensation across his left knee area; he was hoping he didn't feel wet or steamy near his butt right now too. Cutting himself slightly on some of the broken glass, he pushed and crawled his small body along the ceiling to the side windows of the car and crawled out. In he didn't see any one standing nearby, but could in the distance hear a growing murmur of people coming out of hotel and apartment balconies looking to see what the noise was about. He also heard the distant sounds of sirens that were coming closer. Walking at first, he began to head for a hedgerow, but upon feeling that his limbs were good and still intact, made a run for it. Practically diving into the hedges, he crawled and walked along those until he was at the edge of the property and then found his way into other hedges, alleyways, and places his small body could maneuver and hide in to get himself to a monorail station. Once there he road one to get back to his apartment. Ducking past the doorman as best he could, he made it to the elevator and pressed the button for his floor. Bo was seeing stars. Between the being flipped and bounced in the back seat of the crashing car, the crawling and running, he had been racking his balls and cock but good. The spots in front of his eyes becoming so many and so large, he wasn't sure he was going to make it inside. Once inside his apartment, he bolted and chained the door, plus moved a small table in front of it. He then turned to walk towards the master bath in his bed room, taking off this band, that necklace, this fringe, that glow stick along the way creating a full blown trail from front door to bed room. In the bathroom he filled a glass with water, reached up to his medicine cabinet and pulled down a bottle of aspirin and swallowed a couple. The then washed off his hands, took a wash cloth and wiped down his arms, neck, and face, then shook his head and tussled his hair over the sink to get rid of any loose glass that might be caught in the strands. Stumbling his way to his bed he then collapsed up on it. THUMP! THUMP! Bo awoke in the late morning this time.... THUMP! THUMP! There was that sound again! THUMP! THUMP! His heart began to race in fear, thinking it might be Donatelli's men breaking down the door, but then he recalled that sound... that feeling.... the rhythm. THUMP! THUMP! It was his heart beating... "Oh no" he thought. "My cock is going to grow again! I'll become a freak! The man with three legs" THUMP! THUMP! But this time he began to feel pressure on his feet. THUMP! THUMP! More pressure... tight pressure, as though his feet were in way to small of shoes. THUMP! THUMP! The nearly microscopic sounds of small...rips...tears...one....one two... one two three... four...five six seven eight... rip tear...split rip.... THUMP! THUMP! His feet were beginning to feel relief. THUMP! THUMP! His feet were beginning to feel....air.... "Wait a minute, didn't I fall asleep with my shoes on?" THUMP! THUMP! But then he began to feel like his clothes were moving. THUMP! THUMP! His ankles felt exposed. His upper arms began to feel free but his shoulder began to felt constrained. THUMP! THUMP! The fabric of his shirt began to feel tight across his chest. THUMP! THUMP! It was tight across his back. THUMP! THUMP! His upper arms were leaving the sleeves behind and they were getting tight across his shoulders. THUMP! THUMP! Higher and higher his pants legs were rising above his ankles. THUMP! THUMP! His waist band began to get a little tight. THUMP! THUMP! More ripping and tearing was begin heard and he suddenly felt the breeze kiss his arm pits. THUMP! THUMP! More rips heard closer to his hears, his shoulders began to breath air. THUMP! THUMP! His whole body seemed to be stretching, reaching, striving for something. THUMP! THUMP! Now his body seemed to slow down, but he could still feel this tremendous amount of heat...of paint... of strength... THUMP! THUMP! Staring down at himself, he felt this sensation of something gliding, slithering around his hands. Looking down to his left hand he suddenly saw a ling pop up and it began to glide effortlessly under his skin up to the wrist. THUMP! THUMP! The worm, snake whatever it was left an open trail back across Bo's hand as it moved up across his wrist and into his forearm. Once there it split off into several different snakes, making different trails feathering out across the forearm. THUMP! THUMP! Rising up higher and thicker on him, it crossed the elbow and up over the upper arm and the bicep making a nice thick line across the top and feathering out like tributaries from a river. THUMP! THUMP! Bo watched as his arm began to inflate little by little, the ball of his bicep jump and twitch mounding higher and higher, fuller and swollen. THUMP! THUMP! He watched as a ridge ... a rise of some sort began to come up off his chest, beginning to block his vision a little bit of the view down his body and to his feet whose toes poked out past his shoe. THUMP! THUMP! His legs that he felt now battle each other for room, with thighs that felt thicker, denser, heavier, and "UGH!" pushed in hard on his cock and balls already feeling racked with pain from a thong that was getting smaller and tighter around his scrotum. THUMP! THUMP! Legs that suddenly felts a small kiss of air on the sides. THUMP! THUMP! And then all began to slow down... a breeze came across his body and breathed a hushed kiss across his arms, legs, abs and crotch. THUMP! THUMP! Heart rate slowing down....body relaxing....breathing easier... POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! Bo sat up. That wasn't the sound nor rhythm of his heart beat. POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! "Open up Mr. Tum, if that is your real name. You've fucked, or been fucked, by too many men in town, Mr. Tum. You're far too easily to track down." POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! "Mr. Donatelli wants a word with you!" POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! "Very naughty, leaving his boys in the condition you did last night. Running away from the scene of an accident." POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! "Break it in boys!" WHAM! Crrrr WHAM! Crack...WHAM! crack creek crack.... Bo didn't have much time to react. Normally he used this trick for johns who didn't want to seem to leave, some who on occasion moved a massive piece of furniture in front of the front door so Bo couldn't open it. He'd wait until they were in the shower or fixing breakfast in the kitchen to do this disappearing act. He hoped it would work this time. Rolling over and looking up to the headboard, he pressed one of the decorative carvings on it and a small click was heard. The bed was actually made up of three mattresses and the center one hopped up a bit higher on one side than the other two. Pushing up on it, Bo revealed a door and a small crawl space underneath. Getting inside he lay down flat and got it closed just in time for the men to break down his front door. WHAM! KERASH! "Alright Mr. Tum. we've had to break in and now we're thoroughly good and pissed. Come out, come out wherever you are." The men searched all over the apartment, but didn't see Bo anywhere. They came in and stood in his bedroom and held a conversation while Bo held his breath. "He doesn't seem to be in the apartment, Mr. Bugatti. We've checked the closets, even the cupboards given the fact that he is so small and all. Under the couches and chairs. Dante here even checked inside the dishwasher." "Did you check under the bed." "Uhm.... no we didn't." "Well get to it then." The men went to flip the bed but it didn't move. Bo's heart pounded so hard and so loud he was sure the men would hear it. "It seems like it's bolted to the floor sir." "Kick it!" "What?" "Kick the sides you ignorant ass. See if it sounds hollow." "oh...right." Then men proceeded to nearly dance around the bed kicking the bottom of it. Nothing sounded hollow. "It's apparently a completely solid base. The kid can afford some expensive shit, I'll grant him that. But the bed has got blood all over it, and although we saw the floor littered with glow sticks and bands, I don't see any glow in the dark clothes do you, boys?" "There was some in the closet." "I mean on the floor, idiot! There's no bloody raver style clothes on the floor, nor his raver shoes. It means he must have came here last night, got himself patched up as best as he could and then left to go to the hospital or to a friend's house. C'mon. Cherries and Berries will be here soon and more than enough for a three way winning slot pay out. We better tell Mr. Donatelli he's not here." The men left Bo's apartment and the building. Bo stayed in the hole, eating a bag of stale chips kept there until he heard a familiar voice. "Mr. Ainsworth? Are you in here? Sir, it's Mr. Ogle the day doorman with the police. Oh god, please don't be under those sheets dead." The police made motion for Mr. Ogle to stay where he was and they pulled back the bloody sheet. "He doesn't seem to be here." "I'm here!" the police heard a muffled sound followed by a small click and then the center part of the bed popping up. They drew guns as it rose higher and Bo stuck his hands out first, jazz hand style completely open, followed by his head. "It's me, Mr. Ainsworth, but I'm a bit indisposed; they caught me while in bed. Could you hand me the bed sheet back please?" "There's blood all over it, Mr. Ainsworth, did they beat you?" "No, that's from me from an accident I was in last night with some colleagues of theirs." "Accident?" "Yes, officer, I will tell you everything if you could just hand me that sheet back, please." The officer made motion for the sheet to be returned, which Bo then wrapped himself up in as he crawled out from his secret hiding place inside the bed. He told the officers everything that happened. Well, almost everything. He didn't tell them about the odd feeling he had this morning and what he had feared happened to him. He did, however, inform them of all names he overheard in conversation, the look and approximate stats of the three men who kidnapped him and the fact that the gentlemen who broke into his apartment didn't appear to have taken anything, nor did they realize where he was hiding. "Well...." said the officer once Bo had finished telling his story. "The boys have pretty much dusted for finger prints and looked for shoe prints etc., but as there was no physical attack etc, here, I think we can go ahead and let you have your apartment back, although I wouldn't suggest staying here, even if you get the door replaced." "Shall I activate the emergency door for you, sir?" Said Mr. Ogle. "Emergency door?" inquired the lead investigator. "Yes, sir. Our apartments are designed with almost anything in mind, including what to do if there is a break in or a full scale riot. If a door is broken down, or there is a full scale riot the is too close by, we have full metallic doors that slide into place until such time as the riot is quelled or a replacement door is found." "Yes, Mr. Ogle, please activate my door. I still need to wash up from the car accident last night and gather some things before I can head out." "As you ask, Mr. Ainsworth. I'll head down now to activate it. When the officers leave you can punch in your code then and the door will shut." "Thank you." Bo sat on his bed waiting until the officers were finished and left the apartment. He followed the lead investigator who was the last to leave to the door, thanking him, and bidding him good bye. The investigator asked him several times if he sure he didn't want to call for an ambulance, for Bo seemed especially wobbly on his feet and couldn't walk properly. Bo stated he would be fine and when the officer left, he walked to the security system pad and punched in the code for the emergency door. As the metallic door slide shut and clicked, Bo let the sheet slide off of him and he looked down upon his body. There were bumps and ridges he'd never seen before. There were some decent sized mounds upon his chest. His arms he slightly out to his side, looking swole and full with veins crossing this way and that. Looking down, bending slightly over to see past his new mounding chest, he could see his feet sticking out a bit past where the front of his shoes where and the top parts having split completely from the bottoms and now just resting on top of his feet, tightly tied around his ankles. Looking over to a mirror, Bo stumbled backward at what he saw. There... there where he stood, looking with what he knew was his eyes was man of average height with the body of gymnast and a love trail from the middle of his abs working down to an exceptionally sized cock even though flaccid. Bo had thought that there was some growth again, and he hoped that it might proportionately adjust his cock, but it grew in size with him and he knew would be even more monstrous to others now. He tried to get his bearings looking around the room, but it was hard to judge. His eye level was at a different height than what he was used to. His arm reach was greater than it had ever been. His musculature was larger and stronger than it could ever hope to be. He stumbled towards the master bath, and stopped after a couple of steps. He heard slightly heavy footfalls. The pat of good sized feet carrying a good sized man. It took him a number of steps before logic overcame paranoia and he realized, he was the man creating those footsteps. HE was the man. Fumbling for a measuring tape, yard stick, anything he could find, along with a pencil, he backed up against a doorway and placed the pencil on his head, marking the spot where he stopped. Then using the yard stick he found, he measured off and stumbled backwards into a chair. "5' 11".... I'm five feet eleven inches tall." Slowly walking to the bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself. Mounds and bulges, definitions and cuts, some striations and defined veins over well developed muscle tone, a slight coating of hair across the arms, legs, mid way up his abs and down spreading over his crotch, and a decent night's worth of facial hair growth. One hand went to his mouth as he gasped, the other hand reached out to touch its reflection in the mirror. Tears began to form in Bo's eyes as the world he knew was fading and fading fast. "I've become an otter...." he said depressingly.... "a large otter."
  22. First Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/ Previous Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1974-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-eight/ CHAPTER NINE Terry’s office was in an older but well maintained professional building on East 67th. I had been there several times before, especially when we were dating, but this time I was hyper-aware of everything as we approached his office – the cars parked along the street, the trees planted in cutouts on the sidewalk, the pedestrians heading to lunch or appointments. One truck was in front of us, but no vehicles were behind us. I chalked this up to my self-consciousness at being unclothed in public. No, that wasn’t right. I couldn’t care less who saw me naked, what I didn’t want was to cause an accident. Hank dropped us off at the entrance of the ten-story brick and stone building right as a nearby church bell announced the noon hour. I slid the van’s door shut and made a beeline for the double door. “I have an appointment with Doctor Berman on six,” I said casually to the young man at the security desk. He gawked but didn’t respond. We passed a few people between the door and the elevator, which fortunately happened to be opening. An older woman exited the car and screamed briefly, but I ignored her. Matt and I entered. He had already pressed 6 when the doors closed. “That went pretty well,” he said. “I should at least have some type of wrap made for my waist.” “Why?” I smiled and kissed him. “I don’t want to give some poor blue hair a heart attack.” “They’ll get used to it,” he said. “It’s not like they have a choice.” The elevator opened and we walked to the double doors of Terry’s suite at the end of the hall. I had warned him to send his staff home and cancel his appointments and this was the moment of truth. As I slid sideways through the one open door into his waiting room, the head of my semi-flaccid cock slapped against the other, which was locked closed. It shuddered as if someone had punched it. Matt followed me in. “No damage,” he said. “Hey, Terry,” I called out. “I’m here.” The room was empty. A sign on the reception desk informed anyone that dropped by that he was only available for emergencies. The door to the inner part of his suite opened. “Hey there,” he said in his booming voice. He then looked at me, blinked twice and as his eyes rolled back in his head, collapsed to the floor. “Geez, are all of your friends huge?” Matt asked as he rushed forward to check on Terry. I shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve always been a magnet for big bottoms.” “I’m not a big bottom.” “Good point,” I said. “And Hank is very happy about that.” Terry was bleeding from where his head hit the doorknob, but was otherwise fine. I carried him into one of his exam rooms and Matt tended to the wound. Terry was a big guy. He wasn’t lean like Carlos or Hank, but at six foot four and 280 or so pounds he certainly qualified as huge. Big, bearded and bearish, he looked more like a lumberjack than a general practitioner. “He’s beautiful,” Matt said as he held an ice pack against the back of his head. “Yep,” I agreed. “That he is. I was quite taken with him.” “What happened?” “I’m going to walk around,” I said. “Stay here with him and bring him up to date before he sees me again. You can ask him what happened.” I slipped through the doorway sideways and followed the short hallway to the fourth and last examination room where he kept the scale for his morbidly obese patients. This room had a curtain instead of a door so extra large people could easily pass through. I certainly qualified as extra large. I stepped onto the digital scale, which fortunately had a wall-mounted LCD display, and waited a moment. It read 517.1 pounds. My weight had more than doubled in three days; my height had increased by about five inches. I was carrying far more muscle than any human before – probably twice as much as Hank, one of the most muscular men on the planet. My muscle was larger, denser, stronger. Suddenly, I longed for a mirror to admire myself in and as I imagined how I appeared to those around me, my cock began to swell until it had returned to its preferred size – maximum. In seconds it was a mammoth, throbbing hard-as-steel weapon, welded to my hard-as-steel body, thrusting forward, curving upward so that the head was at a 45-degree angle to the floor, already oozing copious amounts of pre-cum. Although my immense pectorals had grown overnight along with everything else and blocked additional inches of my cock from my view, it had lengthened and thickened as well. I grabbed it with both of my still-larger and more powerful hands, gasping with pleasure at my own touch, squeezing the pulsing shaft as tightly as I could with a grip that I already knew could effortlessly crush hardened steel. I was awestruck that my cock was so hard that even I was unable to dent it despite my own strength, which was unimaginable after only three days. I leaned forward and tilted my chin into my cleavage so that I could see more of the massive tool and gasped again at its perfection and beauty, now sixteen inches of male magnificence that spurted my limitless pre-cum. I released my cock and watched it resume bouncing with each throb even while my hands turned their attention to my gigantic pecs, feeling the thick hairs that covered the enormous square slabs, so shredded that I could feel each bundle of muscle fiber on the surface of the huge mound, which I somehow knew were individually far more powerful than even the entire chest of the strongest power lifter. Hank’s statement from earlier in the day had to be accurate. I couldn’t possibly be human anymore. It was the first time I had allowed myself to consider it, but the conclusion was inescapable. Human flesh was not harder than steel. Human hair burned. Humans didn’t convert energy to matter as I apparently did. I had become ... something else ... but a god? It was the only explanation. Everyone, everyone, wished to worship and/or submit to me on sight. They could sense what I was, even as I continued to struggle with it. “I am a god.” I said aloud as if that would help convince me. “So Matt tells me.” I heard Terry say and I turned my head enough to see him pass through the curtain with Matt. They both took one look at me and fell to their knees. Terry’s eyes had glazed over and Matt leaned forward on his hands. Still on the scale’s platform, I turned to face them with my hands on my hips. “May we worship you?” Matt asked. My beautiful boy had not even finished his sentence when cum exploded from my pounding tool, which spasmed wildly, spraying my jism in all directions, coating the curtain, floor and ceiling, not to mention the willing slaves who knelt on the floor before me. Gallon after gallon of cum spewed from my tool for several minutes as imagined myself growing still larger, stronger and more muscular, my cock yet longer and thicker and more powerful. I looked down at the handsome, awestruck faces of the two men and smiled. “Of course you may,” I said even as my spunk continued to flow unabated. Yet after a moment I willed my cock to rest and the sound of my thick, heavy jism splattering the room diminished. They crawled forward and I allowed them to feel my immense brawn, to service my huge cock and orange-sized balls. For several long minutes I enjoyed the caress of their hands and lips as they explored my immense musculature, smiling with satisfaction as they traced the innumerable striations with complete awe. But we needed to move on. “That’s enough,” I said with some regret. Hank would be returning for us. They stopped – both had spontaneously blown their wads a few times anyway – and I offered my hands to them. “Stand.” Terry, his professional hat back on, began examining me and recounted what Matt had told him of the past three days. It was accurate, and I just nodded and clarified a few points for him. As Terry worked, Matt also looked at me closely, inspecting me in a more detached, scientific way than he had before. He even whipped out his iPhone and snapped a few pictures of my face and entire body. “What are those for?” I asked. “I’ll show you when Terry is finished,” he said mischievously. “If I’m right, he’s going to need a drink.” “A drink?” my doctor and old friend said in his solid, rich voice. “More like a bottle of Valium. If you hadn’t already told me what to expect, I would be unconscious on the floor.” “You already did that,” I said. “Oh, right,” he said. “Well, here’s the deal, and if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I’d never have believed it. In fact, I’m still expecting to wake up at any moment, but I digress.” He stepped back and sat on a stool. “You are right at six foot three now,” Terry continued. “I checked your file and just as I remembered, you used to be a bit under five ten. Now your weight is, well, you already know this because you were standing on the scale, but...” He paused and shook his head. “521 pounds, and don’t even ask me to explain the gallons of semen that you released. Matt told me his theory as to how you were creating it and growing, but I wouldn’t even know how to begin to test that.” 521 pounds - almost four pounds of additional matter had appeared from nowhere in the past hour or so in addition to all of the cum. “There isn’t a trace of the scars from 9/11, in fact, your hair and skin look like a flawless version of the real thing, but I am unable to scrape off a sample. You’re not breathing, as Matt already warned me, but you do have a pulse. Wait – when was the last time you urinated or had a bowel movement?” I had already been thinking about that. “Sunday. At home when I had the seizure I called you about.” He shook his head. I could tell he was disgusted, not because of me, but simply because I was challenging everything known to science. “But you produce sweat and,” he motioned to the half of the room that I had slimed. “Semen. Insane quantities of semen.” He looked at Matt. “Hey, would you mind collecting some samples of his semen? There are specimen containers in the cabinet to the left of the sink. I’m thinking around ten.” “Sure,” Matt said as he sprang into action. “Mind if I help you with the tests?” “Not at all, do you have lab experience?” “Oh,” Matt began. “Sorry, I didn’t tell you anything about myself. Yeah, I’m a vet.” “Perfect.” He turned back to me. “You okay with that?” “Hell yeah. I’m at least as curious as you are.” “I know this isn’t something anyone ever asks you,” Terry said. “But would you mind bending over?” I laughed and complied as Terry leaned forward to examine my butt. “Son of a bitch,” he said. “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this. Could you pull your glutes apart?” “Checking my prostate?” I joked as I reached back and spread my cheeks. “Christ,” he said. “Son of a bitch! Jamal, your anus is gone. GONE. Not a trace one was ever there. I don’t fucking believe it.” He sat down heavily on the stool. “I think I could use that drink now.” I felt out of control again and broke out in a cold sweat. “That makes two of us.” Dr. Berman had put me in touch with the paramedic, Carl Washington, who had brought me in. Carl agreed to meet me at Grand Central Terminal for lunch and tell me what he knew about Karen’s death. After Dr. Berman’s initial call, I found it impossible to sleep. The events of that day replayed in my mind repeatedly and despite its futility, I continually second-guessed my actions. How had I failed? What could I have done differently? The puncture wounds in my back were so great I almost bled to death. Why did I live? Why did she die? Each time I replayed her kissing my cheek I wanted to cry. She had thanked me for nothing... After several days, my doctor prescribed anti-anxiety and sleeping meds. They helped, but I knew that if I was going to move on, I needed some answers. It was mid-November when I finally met Carl in the dining concourse of Grand Central, and the gloomy weather matched the city’s mood. New York had been hit hard. Its stride was broken. I may have been depressed, but the entire city remained in a state of shock. Carl told me that Karen and I had been found next to each other. She was face up. I was face down with my left leg and arm over her. The coroner’s autopsy revealed major bruising and some crushing injuries to her lower legs. Blood clots had formed in one of them. She died of a pulmonary embolism. I asked if my moving her around had dislodged the clot. He said I was speculating pointlessly. “Even if an EMT had been with you when you found her, there is no guarantee they could have saved her,” Carl said to me. “You can stop blaming yourself, okay?” “Easier said than done,” I said. “Yeah, I know.” He put his elbows on the table, closed his eyes and cradled his head in his hands. “Look, this has us all messed up. I still lose it every time I see a jet.” I looked down at the table as well. “I keep having nightmares of people falling out of the sky and buildings collapsing.” He shook his head. “This is some fucked up shit, man,” he said. “My wife dreams about people jumping from buildings.” He looked at me and sighed. “I think I could use a drink.” “That makes two of us.” * * * Matt worked at Terry’s computer as Terry and I cleaned up my mess in the exam room, though even as we wiped everything down and mopped the floor, pre-cum continued to ooze from my rock hard cock. The endless stream of semen had grown tiresome. “I wish I could just shut it off but I can’t,” I said. “The only time I don’t leak is when I’m soft and that’s not very often.” “If you had gotten a PA like I suggested years ago you could just hang a bucket from it. Problem solved.” “Funny,” I said sarcastically. “Or maybe I could order a team of slaves to follow me around and lick it up as I go.” Terry stopped mopping and looked at me. “What?” I asked. “I just realized that if you asked me to do that, I would.” I nodded. “Yeah. I know you would. It’s freaky.” He looked at me and frowned. “You’re not being arrogant about it either.” I had never understood arrogance. Things were what they were. In only a few days I had developed into a god among men, a transformation that showed no sign of slowing. What was the point of boasting about the obvious? “It’s not his style,” Matt said as he joined us. “I’m done. Want to take a look?” We followed him into Terry’s office, which was every bit as Spartan and organized as I remembered it. We stood behind him as he sat down at the desk. “Okay, before I show this to you, I want to explain something. Terry will already know about it and based on the titles I saw on your bookshelf, you might too, Jamal. It’s called bilateral symmetry.” “Most animals are bilaterally symmetrical,” Terry said. “Along the sagittal plane. At least superficially.” “Our left side is a mirror image of our right?” I said. I was pretty sure I remembered this from high school biology. “Exactly,” Matt said. “Or most accurately, not exactly. Take a look.” Matt opened a photograph of his face that Terry had taken before we started cleaning. “Now look carefully,” he said as he overlaid a grid over the image. “My right eye is slightly higher than my left. Can you see it?” I could. In fact, I could see it very clearly although I had never noticed it before. “Now watch this,” he said. Matt opened a second image next to the original. It depicted the left side of his face folded over the right. “Here you can see all kinds of irregularities, if you will. My eyes, my mouth, my ears. This extends to the entire body. Our left and right sides are not perfect mirror images of each other.” He closed the images and pulled up one of Terry. “Here you can see the same thing, though Terry is a bit more symmetrical than I am, damn him.” He looked back at Terry and winked. Matt closed the photo of Terry. “Now, this is Jamal’s face from someone’s Flickr collection,” he said. I recognized it from a photo shoot I had posed for a year ago. “You were very symmetrical. Even more so than Terry.” He closed the image and brought up another. “But you can see here that the sides of your face didn’t match up perfectly.” “Didn’t, you say, as in past tense,” Terry observed. “Right,” Matt confirmed as he pulled up the photos he had taken of me that afternoon. “Because now, at least to the degree the camera is accurate, he is perfectly symmetrical. His face, his body, everything. The reason he is supernaturally, almost painfully beautiful is not just his ultra-manly appearance and extreme muscularity. Jamal is physically perfect. No flaws.” Terry turned from the screen and looked at me with a mixture of fear and awe. I shrugged, trying to play it down despite my extreme excitement as I listened to his words. A surge of power flowed into my fully erect cock, causing it to grow still larger and harder even as I closed my eyes and attempted to suppress spraying another massive load in Terry’s office. I no longer needed additional evidence to prove my godhood to myself, yet it continued to pour in. My suddenly acute awareness of my endlessly growing magnificence created a euphoric rush that threated to spiral out of control. Pre-cum was already spurting from my piss slit and I knew that if I didn’t distract myself quickly, I would create the largest mess yet. I’ve got to get out of here, I thought. But what I actually said was – “Where is the building’s electrical?” This surprised me because since entering the building I was keenly aware that I was growing too big for standard interior dimensions. I felt I was too big, yet another part of me, the part that appeared three days ago and considered me the Alpha Stud of the planet, the part that thought of everyone as my willing slave, the part that knew that all of humanity would worship me – that part felt I wasn’t yet big or powerful enough. * * * Matt remained in Terry’s suite and began working on the samples he had collected while Terry took me down to the basement. Getting the keys from the building engineer on duty was a snap once Terry called him to his suite and he saw me. We left him groveling on the floor in the hallway as a wet spot grew on the fabric of his pants. I remained conflicted as we entered the electrical room. My shoulders were so wide that it was a challenge to navigate within buildings. My cock was already too large to reasonably fuck anyone with. Yet the orgasmic rush I received from feeding and growing was so great I couldn’t imagine ever giving it up. If there was a limit to how powerful I could become, I knew I hadn’t reached it yet and as long as I could grow, I would. I looked at the set up. I wasn’t an electrician, but estimated that the building had 480-volt, 6,000 amp service. My cock began spasming with excitement as I reached up and grasped the pipe that held the wiring from the service drop. I paused. “There isn’t any life-supporting equipment or surgery performed in this building, is there?” “No,” Terry said. “And the generators will kick in anyway for critical things.” “Good.” I pulled the pipe from the main panel and peeled the protective steel tubing away from the wiring as if it were plastic wrap. I then ripped the wires apart, which plunged the room into darkness. As promised, I could hear a diesel generator rumble to life and an emergency light illuminated the cinderblock room. “Good god,” Terry said. I looked at Terry and winked. “I hope so,” I said before pulling the insulation from the copper wiring and tossing it aside. Finally, I wrapped the bare metal wires around my pounding cock and moaned in pleasure as the current flowed into me. Next Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2642-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-ten/
  23. FREaky

    Pleasure Growth Part 7

    Pleasure Growth 7 by F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1116-pleasure-growth/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1117-pleasure-growth-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1118-pleasure-growth-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1256-pleasure-growth-part-4/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1257-pleasure-growth-part-5/ Part 6: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1389-pleasure-growth-6/ Zeke burst into Sanjay's dorm room. "We've got to do something and we've got to do it fast." Sliding some papers out of open view, Sanjay turned and posed a question. "Have you heard anything from Aaron and his family?" "Yes. He went missing from their home. The whole family went out to a barn dance, but said he couldn't come along. In order to protect him, ya know? So he wouldn't go and see some strapping cowboy that might accidentally turn him on and cause him to grow. But apparently he went walking the property while do some chores and came upon the cabin I stayed in while I was working there over the summer. Oh...god!...." Zeke spun around and sat down in a chair, face turning read, hands clenched into fists. "I apparently had left a dirty shirt of mine behind in the cabin. It still reeked of my cologne. It was found laying on top of a broken bed.... GOD!" Zeke stood up and punched the Sanjay's closet door. "EASY! whether or not you break it, I'll have to pay for that at the end of the semester. So, I take it, missing you he got turned on and he grew?" "His dad told me there was a very large spot of dried cum on the floor in the cabin. The door frame was busted through and outside were some very large human foot prints. Aaron's hit the thirteen foot mark, man. We've got to do something. They don't know where he is, but we've got to find him and try to do something!" "I.... I.....I think I know where he is....sort of." "What do you mean you sort of think you know where Aaron is?" Sanjay handed him the print outs of articles about Circo di Meraviglia. "I don't know why, but somehow he's hooked up with this circus. Look at the picture...." "Oh my god he's huge!" "They measured him, scheduled for Guinness to come out and officially proclaim it too; thirteen feet tall. For some reason he goes by the name Titus now. They paired him up with a strong man to do shows. They've become quite the successful act up and down the west coast. It gets worse however." "It gets worse?!?" "Here is the last article about him. No picture, but according to witnesses, one evening after a show on Sunday, Titus' tent suddenly exploded. Several tents surrounding Titus' were knocked down as well, and several circus performers who witnessed it said that rising up from the debris of the tent was the strongman covered in white goop, and Titus who now stood and estimated 20 foot or more tall. If it matches with the estimates the doctor's and I calculated, he should be exactly twenty-one feet tall now and built like an American footballer, or a rugby player." "Holy shit......" "And it...it maybe much worse than we feared, Zeke." "What do you mean? How much worse." "Remember that I said his growth was doubling exponentially?" "Yeah..." "And that for each inch of growth he was supposed to normally have, he would grow like that." "Yes...." "I did a running model of Aaron's body, minus that jerk's formula running through it. I've analyzed all his horomone levels, blood levels, tissue samples...I've feed it all in and had the computer run a test to see what Aaron's normal growth pattern was going to be." "And?" "He was going to be a very late bloomer." "Ok?" "But he was going to bloom....he was going to really bloom. He was going to explode in bloom. The estimated growth spurt he was going to have would have put him at ....six foot.....seven inches tall when done." "Six foot seven!?! That's.... that's just over ...over a foot! Oh my god! Thir....THIRTEEN INCHES! That means!...." "Yes, he's going to grow thirteen times, in the same fashion, growing taller, broader, and uhm....more endowed." "We have to try and help him." "I don't know that we can right now. That formula that creepy geeky created is very complex. The doctors and all of us in the lab here at the college are working on it, but we can't seem to make headway." "So is he still with the circus?" "No. The article said he took off an ran away into the night. He stopped running at some point, which means he was leaving softer tracks behind in the desert sand. The wind caused those tracks to be covered up so they lost track of which direction he turned after a while." ****************************************************************************** "hmmmmmm "oooooooh "huuuuuuuuuuh" Aaron moaned and groaned in his sleep. He was dreaming. He was lost somewhere in the night. He could barely see around him as the sky was pitch black, with no stars, but he could see the outlines of billowing clouds lit up by a fiery sunset. He could hear his heart pounding, beating, throbbing, louder and louder in perfect rhythm. The air was heavy with smoke and the scent of some strange exotic flower. The fading sunlight provided just enough light to see some figured, floating and flying around him. They were spirits for they had no bodies with legs and arms, just very long shapes with tattered or fringed edges that fluttered in the wind as the moved around him. Their faces were very odd, as if carved and painted. Half had a very flat tubular face, light sky blue, with rectangular black eyes, and long flowing black hair, and a long flowing black beard? The others were a little more wild looking with their long black hair in various styles: a pony tail, a bun, and maybe kind of a mohawk, on top of black faces with enormous round brown eyes. These people fluttered and flitted around him, gliding up and down all over his body, moving this way and that, causing him to be tickled at their passing. Slowly they broke into five groups, two stayed near him, beneath his chin, the other three moved down into the darkness, almost out of sight. The two beneath his chin while dancing in circles, caused Aaron to feel a strong and powerful sensation rising from his chest. He felt his chest swell and become firm, and that firmness rose and began to jut out slight from two positions on his chest. Meanwhile the other three groups began to push at Aaron, push and heft, lift and hoist... What were they moving? What where they playing with? It was some kind of huge beam that was floppy and made of plastic. But as they increased their dance, Aaron began to feel sensations from them to, in the pit of his stomach. No in the heart of his being. No...it was setting fire to his loins. Aaron moaned and groaned and called out to no one. No one was there to tell these spirits what will happen, to let them know what happened to him when Samuil, Sampson, tried to please him. But it was too late. Floating in this void of space, with its mysterious never ending sunset, Aaron began to writhe and moan, his fingers, toes, hands, feet, began to stretch, reach, and grow longer and thicker. So did the great log two of the three spirit groups farthest from Aaron's head were holding grow. It increased in size, in thickness, in density, rising up, up, up, where it felt a hole in the sky and a cool breeze that caressed to top, which sent shivers to Aaron's piss slit. The third of the three groups farthest from him, began to dance and sway and swoop over something Aaron couldn't see, but it began to cause a warmth, and build up of power, an awakening sensation of strength and growth through Aaron's loin and groin. "Auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh!" Aaron screamed in delight as he heard his voice lower and lower in octaves. He felt his body stretch and reach as he his head rose further into the inky blackness of space, as his arms and legs stretched forth to the few twinkling stars he could see. He could feel himself getting heavier and heavier despite floating on air. He could feel himself swelling, thickening, getting so much denser, harder, heavier, he could feel more and more every ridge and swell and cut of his body, feel his legs push themselves farther and farther apart, his arms being raised without a mental command to raise them. Aaron knew in this dream he was growing again, and he couldn't stop himself. Did he want to stop himself? All these spirits fondling over his body. How small they looked at the beginning. How much smaller they looked now. Are they giving him this strength and power? Are they feeding him? Maybe....worshipping him? Yesssssssss oooooh gawd yessssssss. Making him into....a......GOD! Aaron found pleasurable release, and the spirits all gathered in the middle throwing their faces off their bodies and then throwing their bodies away too, standing as little wisps of bronze colored clouds, chanting and cheering..... ***************************************************************************** Aaron heard the pounding of his heart once again. Trying to fight his way out of the blackness that was unconciousness, he began to moan a little and finally ask ever so softly "What is going on here?" "Shhhhhhh. Great Titus." "How....how do you know my name?" "You talk in your sleep." "How long have I been asleep?" "Many weeks." "Many weeks?!?" "Shhhhh shhh shhhh... Great Titus, your devotees are here to take care of you. All will be well." "My devotees? Where am I am?" "You are in the Wuuyoqʼa Pööngala Cavern." "The what?" "The Wuuyoqʼa Pööngala Cavern. Named after you, for it is similar to what your name, Titus, means." "What is going on? Why do I have devotees? Why am I am so big, yet so weak?" "You came in here many weeks ago. My boyfriend and I observed you, heard you approach. You looked frightened and scared, and very tired and worn, and discovering this cave you could fit into, you crawled in and passed out. My love and I took care of you and heard many things as you talked in your sleep: your interest for a man named Samuil, but your love for a man named Zeke. "A man named Zeke?" "You spoke of power and growing, and we knew we would have you be part of our ritual." "Ritual for what?" "We are two-spirited people. The modern world calls us homosexuals. The traditions of how we were dealt with, how we live in our society, have been lost, put out of history and memory by many caucasians and church leaders. But my love and I, came upon you, and decided such a powerful man could only be sent by the divine, and we have used you for creating a new culture, new ceremonies for two-spirit people. We are having a blessing ceremony tonight. As such, you are weak, as we have been feeding you herbs from a rare plant that allows you to relax so you may enjoy the devotion to your strong body." "No....I can't you don't understand what happens to me when I am aroused...." "Shush and be still... enjoy the devotion of your followers." Aaron could do nothing. He felt so weak physically, despite feeling the size and mass of the muscles on his body. He felt so out of tune mentally, it was hard to focus on anything. The fevered dream he had before, he now knew was a ceremony that had taken place. The empty blackness with sunset highlighted clouds, was actually the interior of a cave and its walls being very dimly lit by torches. The spirits that flitted around him, were these men, dancing in ceremonial masks and robes on top of him while stroking his body. Thinking on that, Aaron could feel his body; it was heavier than he remembered. The weight and girth of his limbs, yet the tightness of his waist and abs. His shoulders and back felt incredibly broad and his lats felt uber thick. He could feel air movement around parts of his body, despite lying down on his back on the ground. He knew what this meant.... his musculature had reach bodybuilding proportions. The feeling of cool air swirling and drifting around his body has happening around his ankle, his knees, the lower portion of his back, between the shoulders and triceps. This was because the muscle groups around those areas: the back & lats, his butt, his thighs and calves had grown large enough to raise him up off the ground. He could also feel his chest laying heavy on his torso. Big huge wide plates that not only spread out broad and wide, but also rose up mounding and high. Looking down his body, Aaron was beginning to have a problem of seeing anything past his chest, and his nipples had begun a migration to pointing downwards. Aaron still couldn't remember who he was, or what was happening to him and his body, but he was beginning to like his size, the strength, the power that flowed through his muscles and veins. If only he could actually move, flex, he knew he could break free, but despite being able to feel all this muscle mass, he was so weak and sleepy. Yet he couldn't let it happen again. He was already too big. These men around him looked to be slightly less than one fourth his size. But there was something in the back of his mind that liked this. Despite the scare of tossing Samuil around and nearly drowning him in a pool of cum, Aaron had felt that he was due this somehow. As if he had been very small at some point in his past for a long time, too long of a time, and now he was big, he was beefy, he was strong! The drum beats in the cavern began to beat faster and louder. Aaron's heart beat began to pick up pace with them. The men dressed up like those spirits again were dancing towards Aaron and processing up a ramp and onto his body. Again the broke in to five smaller group that headed towards his two nipples, his cock, and his balls, repeating the stroking dance and raising Aaron's prick up like some gigantic wooden phallic symbol as best they. "Ohhhh yes..." Aaron moaned, and closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn't, but he gave in to the pleasure of the strokes, to the feeling of all these tiny hands trying to heft up his cock that flaccid had to be like two times the length of their average height. He began to see in his mind a man.... a fairly big man. He wasn't a giant of a man, but he was tall, taller than many, but still there were many tall men his height. However, he did stand taller than Aaron, almost a whole head and shoulders taller than Aaron. He had a really good muscular build on him, the kind Aaron saw gymnast having. He was tan, with inky black hair, a beautiful smile and the most beautiful sparkling green eyes. But then something happened...the man shrunk... Aaron was closer to his height. And then it happened again and now Aaron was standing almost head and shoulders above this man. "Oh yeaaaaaah." Aaron thought to himself. Again the man shrunk smaller and smaller until the man was only as tall as the bottom of Aaron's thighs. Wait! The man was shrinking Aaron was getting bigger and bigger...taller...and broader...thicker... and stronger.... "Oooooooooh!" Aaron snapped to as he began to feel so many sensations. His dick was rising up and rising very quickly, becoming fully engorged, hard a titanium, and getting criss-crossed with huge thick veins plumped so full of blood. Up and up it grew until Aaron could feel a tickling at his cock head. Squinting down his body, but up above it, Aaron could see a hole in the top of the cavern. The men below had pushed and leaned or pulled and tugged as hard they could one way or another, so that when his cock became erect, it was aimed at that hole. The hole has covered in dozens upon dozens of animal skins and then wetted down with something. But Aaron felt a little troubled. He could see how much space his body took up. He vaguely remembers coming to the cavern, but he was able to fit into much better. Now... now he took up almost all of the space. He mustn't grow... He can't grow again! "OOOooooohhhhhO!" The tiny men had continued their dancing and stroking, and now that Aaron was fully erect, they were jumping onto and sliding down his cock as best and as fast as they could. Other members were stroking his balls and his nipples. Aaron began to dream again of that gorgeous man that was getting smaller and smaller. He knew he shouldn't grow more, but for some reason he wanted to. He began to see a whole group of men, that were anywhere from as tall as the hunk he saw to slightly shorter, and they all resembled him in some fashion. He knew he wanted to be bigger than them. Way bigger than them. Yes... they should become mice to him. Suddenly he felt a sensation build up in his balls. It kept building....and Building.....AND Building....BUILDING! Stronger and stronger, more and more.... Aaron's breathing was becoming rapid and heavy, uncontrolled. "AUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!" Suddenly the sensation burst forth inside of Aaron, striking his cock first and causing it to have a massive growth spurt...up...Up...UP! Up into and poke out of the cavern roof hole! "WUUUUUUUUUUH!" His prick growing taller and taller getting thicker in girth and harder in its pump and erection, soon pushed its own head up and out of the hole. The feeling of the growth against the slicked down furs surrounding the hole, sent more sensation down Aaron's schlong, causing him to buck in pleasure and throw the tiny men dancing on him off balance. Another just from his groin and his legs and arms shot out getting longer and longer and longer and longer.... His neck and head, back too rose up and up and up, or in this case scooted across the cavern floor. "Oh no..." Aaron thought. He could feel the back wall of a section of the cavern with his head. His shoulders were widening too, stretching out broader and broader until he could feel the sides of that part of the cavern with them. His butt and thighs began to feel the sides of the cavern as well, and his feet began to feel cool night air, just like his prick head was. He was growing so big now, that he was filling up the inside of the cavern, and if the muscle growth hit... Hit it did. Another sensation sent waves of power coursing through Aaron's blood, feeding his muscular body, causing the muscles to swell, thicken, harden, become denser, stronger, harder. He felt his calves bunch and swell in size, rising his legs further and further off the ground, almost causing his feet to rise and his heels to float in mid air. Aaron could feel them bunch and grow and harden into these massive heart shapes that were so big, he thought they, not the thighs, should be described as hamhocks. Next he felt the cables that were his hamstrings tighten from the calves, across the back of the knees, and up the thighs, becoming harder, thicker, stronger. Dear God! They could probably help support a suspension bridge! Then his thighs ballooned out, swelling this way and that. The cool cascading breeze streaming into the cavern gently kissed Aaron's quads and helped him feel their development: one tear drop, two tear drops, three tear drops, the meaty back bicep of the thigh swelling even larger. Aaron could feel his legs getting pushed and spread apart by his thighs. If he could stand, whenever he could stand, he would surely always have a stance with his feet shoulder, his sized shoulders, width apart! Aaron could feel them swelling so, that they became wedged in the cavern, the rock walls desperately trying to cut in his skin and carve out more tear drop shapes. But as big and thick as his thighs developed, another presence made itself known. The next surge pushed power, size, and testosterone into Aaron's nuts. He suddenly felt his scrotum become so tight it was racking his own balls, but then it began to slowly streeeeetch with the swelling and mounding as the balls grew larger and larger, fuller and heavier, even proportionately they were getting bigger. As they grew, Aaron could feel a huge swirling sensation in them as they went into hyper-drive, producing what surely was gallons and gallons of cum. Going crazy over the feeling of the heft of his balls, Aaron wished he could raise them up. They were but not how he was anticipating. The sensation moved up his thighs and into his buttocks, causing his ass to grow out just a tiny bit, and then shrink in tight, full, and compact. His ass was bubbling out to match the size and power of his thighs, causing his groin and abs to raise up just a bit. The power now spread up to his lats, back, delts, and traps, making them all bunch and lurch, swell and grow, widen and broaden, thicken and inflate, harder and denser, fuller and rounder.... swelling and growing, pushing his body further into the sides of the cavern, jamming itself in and getting completely stuck. He could feel how hard his lats pushed against his arms, how powerfully his back, shoulders, and traps pulled on his arms, if he ever got out of here to stand up, his arms would not be sticking straight down, nor at a slight angle. No...they would be hanging in mid air and would hand even further out according to the sensation hitting him now. The power coursed through his arms, snaking down the super internal highway that was his veins, which were rising up thick and full like mighty rivers and smaller streams and criss-crossing creeks. All of them sending power and nutrients to his muscles, in this case the arms, to feed and cause them to explode. He felt those arms thicken and get heavy, form into tight peak and a horseshoe, to swell further in size and density, to become huge and round and now swelling to become perhaps almost squarish. They sent the power to the forearms that grew and grew and laughed at cartoon people like Popeye, they were so much bigger sick with all those veins crossing down into the finger that grew and popper with muscle themselves. And with Aaron being so tall now, he could flex a finger and have it raise a bicep larger than any Mr. Olympia. Aaron felt his head get pushed into the wall a little further, as the column that was his neck, inflated even larger and thicker in girth, becoming solid column that could rival any from Greece, Rome, or Egypt. He could feel his traps mounding up to meet this column and threaten to engulf his head. But thoughts on that were soon lost as the sensation hit his chest and he watched it just ooze out, thicker, wider, broader, heavier, more and more like barrel, rising...rising. higher and higher, until his vision down the front of his body was blocked by the sheer massiveness of his pecs, which helped to push his fully swollen arms farther into the side cavern walls. Aaron felt like he had a whole other person, his size, sitting on his chest. As he tried to adjust his labored breathing, with each breath in and exhale out, he could feel his abs and obliques bunch and tighten, every single brick bunch out and define in, he knew he had an entire section of cobble stone road for a mid section. An entire armor of brick plates! He had a washboard one couldn't scrub clothes on, because the would get shredded and torn on these abs. "HU-WAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The sensation suddenly just dropped back down right into the pit of Aaron's stomach, his groin, balls, and cock. The dancers, were now back on their feet, madly stroking the much larger phallic pole that was in front of them, chanting away, jerking off onto the giant engorged member, and rubbing it for all their worth. Aaron felt his cock head push just a bit more into the night time air. Despite the fact of being covered in so many pelts with fur, he felt the cavern hole cut slightly into the girth of his schlong. He could feel some men outside around his feet, and although he couldn't see them, could tell that if he was standing, they wouldn't come up any more on him than his ankles, if that. He had been transformed into a god... "OH HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHU HU HU HU HUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" The men who had clamored up the mesa to get to the top of the cavern and the hole outside, saw a sight that looked like old faithful going off, but this stream of hot, steamy liquid wasn't water and it didn't shot out of the hole in the ground, but a large bulbous something from the hole in the ground. They danced and cheered, as the white, hot liquid, showered down upon them, coating them completely. Aaron, meanwhile exhausted from the orgasm, the growth, and still lingering affects of whatever it was he had been doped with, fell asleep once more.
  24. TheWeremuscleForest

    The Facility

    Imagine yourself as a fairly nerdy guy with glasses and you have a decent body. You have minimal muscle brought on by natural genetics. You have never stepped foot inside a gym before either. A trusted friend of yours tells you about a special gym across town. You are afraid to go because you are socially awkward and have never truly interacted with any other men about your secret fetish. After some deep thought, you get the urge to check out this place. Your friend, Simon says that you have to go alone and that this is strictly for your own benefit. You enter the front lobby of the facility and notice that all of the men inside are incredibly muscular beauties pushing around obscene amounts of weight on the machines and the racks. You are trying to retain your composure as you watch these gorgeous men grunting and posing in front of mirrors located all over the facility. They are so infatuated with what they see in the mirror that they never notice you standing in the front doorway watching them. You are met by a very attractive guy with a hugely muscled body. He refers you to a side door that leads away from the main part of the facility. Your fears increase as you approach this door. You ask him to please come with you through the door and he nods. You are unknowingly attracted to him as you grab his right hand and squeeze it. The feelings you get as you hold his hand creates a sort of pleasant calm inside you. At the end of the hall, you ask the guy if he will come in with you, he says he cannot because this door was meant for you and not him. He tells you that he will wait for outside the door and promises that you won't regret ever going in. Your nervousness grows substantially as you enter. Once you do, the air feels completely different than the rest of the complex. You feel almost lightheaded from the pressure now being exerted on your head. A voice inside your mind begins speaking to you and telling you that you will give in to your pleasure and your nervousness will only heighten the process if you try to resist it. It even mentions that the hot guy waiting for you outside the door is your soul mate and that he once was a nerd himself. He apparently went through the process too and became what he wanted to become. It is just you in the room and you must decide what will happen to you next. It now feels as if there is something trying to burrow itself into your mind. It scares you immensely and you don't know what to do as this unseen force tries to take over your mind but you are not going to let it. You scream in agony as the pain begins to rush through you. The force begins to travel through your body as it infiltrates your muscles and won’t let go. There is an extreme amount of pressure building up in your chest as your body now shakes violently. The sweat is pouring and soaking your clothes. You keep resisting this force in your mind, but it is about to take over your body. Your clothes are now stuck to your body because of the extreme amount of sweating. The pressure has now turned to a pain that you can't feel anymore, and basically you have gone numb. It is at this point that you have lost control over most of your body. This force will unleash its fury on your muscles. You watch as your muscles explode in size shredding your shirt instantly. Your pants cling for life as your quads squeeze so hard an explosion goes off and the seams fling open. The underwear you are wearing is barely holding on as your cock and balls expand to twice their size. Now they are making tons of luscious cum. The force successfully overtakes every part of your body except the mind and it will try to do so once again. The numbness now subsides and you feel an unreal surge of power moving through your body. The force tries to get you to give in to your urges and to make you feel like you can do anything you want. Your soul mate, Howard, outside the door can hear everything going on in the room and is going through another change himself. His excitement over your anguish and transformation actually makes his own balls grow too as he also makes considering more cum than before. Your anguish soon ends because you cannot endure this kind of pain again. The cum building up in your balls is a way to make you give in to the force. It tries turning you into a sexual beast and you can't help but to run to the door and rip it off it hinges. You grab Howard and make him service you. He starts sucking you off and stroking his cock making you lose sight of your change. The force is winning the battle and you are losing your mind. As this happens, your body continues to grow and Howard is feeling his body grow as well. The thick cum building up inside your balls is now flowing from your cock into him and making him a slave to your muscle. You pull your cock out of his mouth and start spraying jet after jet onto his growing torso. His growing muscles begin shredding his clothes. He gets up and places his growing cock onto your body and starts spraying his own jizz onto it. It is at this point that you both have given your minds up to your lust. The facility itself goes into lockdown and neither one of you can get out. The two of you are completely unaware of what has happened and continue to have sex with each other. Behind a mirror in the back of the room are two men who helped create the facility. They created this room in particular to transform once downtrodden men into godlike behemoths for their own enjoyment. They watch the two of you fucking and sucking and worshipping each other while both of you still expand in size. It gets them so hot and bothered that they start having sex themselves. Your growth continues as you and Howard keep spraying each other over and over with thick gooey piles of cum. The force inside both your minds has changed your thinking completely and all you want to do is grow. The men behind the mirror, Rochester and Whitman, can see that you two are not going to stop and can't help their selves but to watch. They start fucking each other watching the carnage occurring. If the mirror breaks from within the room, the force will find its way into where they are. Whitman actually fears this could happen and tells Rochester that he is going to leave because he doesn't want that to happen to him. The bigger man of the duo, Chester, steps in front of him and says that he will not leave because he does want to see it happen. The two of you still growing in the other room are starting to get as big as the walls. You stick your gigantic hands out to push against the metal as you hear the walls beginning to buckle and cracks forming. The mirror separating the two areas is also starting to crack as Whit tries desperately to run away from it. Chester though is holding him down on the floor making him agonize over what will happen next. As the mirror shatters, the air changes inside the area and consumes the man holding Whit down. He starts to laugh as his body explodes with growth as muscles start popping out everywhere on his body. Whit tries to fight off the force but it takes him over quickly as his body rips through his clothes almost immediately. The two of you in the other room are now attempting to break out of the complex and take off. You and Howard shatter the steel walls like they are made of styro-foam and start speeding your way through the city like lightning. Chester and Whit are now not too far behind. While the two of you have sort of regained a small amount of your minds back, the other two have gone mad with their insatiable desire for more. The force that was being held from within the facility has now been released into the air outside and is starting to make its way to wherever it can. You and Howard both realize that by breaking out of the facility, they have unleashed a power that cannot be stopped, but they also know that nothing can stop it now. Both you and Howard stop to look behind your backs to see that Chester and Whit are chasing them down because they obviously want to take in more power. They start running again down the main street of the city and hear buildings shaking and windows breaking. They stop again for a few seconds just to see a man in a nearby cafe physically grow out of the walls and soar through about two floors of the building before he finally stops expanding. He eventually breaks out of the building and starts chasing after them too. You and Howard begin running again as they race towards the ocean ahead. You feel the man from the cafe getting closer to both of you and stop to turn around. Behind this man you notice that Chester and Whit are being raped by numerous supermen that have also transformed. The man in the cafe catches up to both of you and starts to squeeze the life out of Howard. You punch him and realize that you can't do anything to him because you all have the same amount of strength. You manage to wrestle him to the ground and Howard gets loose. You both turn to start running again as the mob of supermen eventually trample the man from the cafe. Finally the two of you get to the ocean and have to make a quick decision. You both fear that if you jump in, neither one of you will be able to swim and might even die. A decision is made as you both close your eyes and hold each other as the mob continues to race towards you. When the timing is just right, you both separate and run about 50 feet away from each as hundreds upon hundreds of crazy supermen go barreling into the ocean. You both watch as these men start flailing incessantly since they are now too big to swim. Next, both you and Howard run away from the ocean and start looking for a way out of the city. Neither one of you know what will happen next as this force is loose throughout the entire world. It is an uncertain future for the two of you, but at least you both have each other. The sequel is here: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4896-the-facility-ii-the-return-to-where-you-started-living/
  25. TheWeremuscleForest

    The Achilles Effect

    Achilles strived to be a big bodybuilder for many years and finally did so after a lot of hard work. His once skinny frame filled out with big thick bulky arms, a giant bull neck, and a huge beefy chest. He always was an attractive guy with a handsome face but deep down wanted to be a hulking brute. He achieved these goals through the normal process of lifting, eating tons, and sleeping right. Life gets in the way of these things sometimes, but he never wavered. His job as a barista is sometimes quite hectic and his personal life could also get in the way of his training. He is quite the intellectual too always wanting to focus on his writings and his interests in poetry and music. While Achilles was already a large man by anyone's standards, deep down he’d wanted to be even stronger and much bigger than he already is. So one day he put his thoughts into his blog, but he would never push the ‘post’ button. He closed his eyes while sitting in his desk chair and just imagined himself bigger and more massive than he already is. Achilles always wore his favorite denim shirt because it made his arms look very impressive and has a favorite pair of black pants too that he wore to the gym because they were comfortable. Sitting calmly in the chair, his imagination became his reality as his arms, pecs, legs, and back started to expand stretching the fabric on his shirt and pants to the point that they bust and shred without much effort. He hears something crack and discovers that it is his chair. He crashes to the ground and makes everything in his house shake under his growing frame. Achilles was 240 pounds before he started growing, but after his sudden growth spurt, he is now up to 260 after getting on the scale in his bathroom. He goes ahead and erases his blog entry after what he just experienced. Achilles is originally from England and wanted to take a trip back there to visit his family. While he is there, he wants to meet up with other British blokes from the forum, so he posted an entry in the personals. Almost immediately he got a response from a guy in Manchester. The man tells him that he is willing to meet up with Achilles for brunch and then they could discuss 'other things'. Achilles never tells him just how big he really is, but he does give him a fair description of what his face looks like so the man isn’t completely in the dark. A week goes by and Achilles arrives in London. He goes to visit his family for a few days to catch up on their lives and to let them know how he is doing. They are amazed at the dramatic transformation he has undertaken. He tells them that he has to meet up with a friend that evening and can’t stay long. He promises to make a return to visit again soon. Luckily he still retains his sweet mild-mannered nature and bids adieu until later. He arrives in Manchester that evening and meets up with the other bloke at a small cafe. He is shocked to see that the other guy is also quite large and quite hot. The man's bulging arms go down to his amazing chest and huge quads. His cheeky smile says it all when he says, 'are you surprised mate?' Achilles could hardly say anything because he is blown away by the man's beauty. The man then says, 'should we just skip this and go to the hotel?' Achilles nods and says, 'yes mate that might be wise.' It doesn't take long before Achilles gets the urge to start rubbing the man's huge shoulders before they even leave the cafe. They get to the hotel and without saying anything at all, the man leads Achilles to the suite that they purchased. Before they can get into the door, the man takes his shirt off and starts to flex his guns and bounces his pecs. Achilles does the same taking his shirt off and starts posing his self. It becomes a hot session as both men rub and massage each other taking in each other’s scents and start slowly tasting the bitter sweat off each other. The session lasts for quite a while before Achilles asks him what his name is. The man smiles and says, 'call me Nathan mate.' Achilles smiles back and says, 'sure mate.' Achilles sits down, closes his eyes, and imagines Nathan getting thicker than he currently is. Nathan, still standing in the middle of the suite, starts groaning as Achilles can hear some kind of popping sound with his eyes still closed. He wonders if this imagining process will work on Nathan. Achilles opens his eyes and sees his fantasy come true as the gorgeous Brit starts getting taller. His pants grow tighter and start shredding the seams on the sides. Nathan's already huge frame gets bigger as his pecs grow fuller and his arms grow much thicker. His wide back gets even wider with additional muscles appearing on top of the huge muscles already there. Finally, his pants give way revealing stupendous quads and impressive calves. The growing stops after Nathan gains 40 pounds of muscle on top of what he started with and gains four inches in height. His head nearly touches the ceiling in the hotel suite. Achilles can't help but to go over and start massaging Nathan's newly grown musculature. He rubs his huge chest against Nathan's and the two behemoths start stroking their selves. Nathan pulls his posers off revealing a nice engorged cock and begins to stroke it. The two men eventually get their selves close after a lot of edging and shoot their huge loads onto each other. Achilles says that he has to go soon because he needs to go to America and meet up with a man he knows from Boston. Nathan understands and gives Achilles a hug before saying that he needs to come back to Manchester sometime. Achilles agrees that he will return and they say their goodbyes. He then makes a mad dash out of the suite to get to the airport to catch his flight. It took him several hours to arrive in Boston and is quite surprised at how gorgeous the coastline is. He has a little time to spare before he meets up with his buddy so he goes on to the boardwalk to take in the view. Achilles decides to set up his date with this man on the beach close to the water. The man calls to tell him that he has to finish a social case and will arrive a little later than usual because a family needs his help with some personal matters. Achilles likes the fact that the man is so caring and tells him that he will have no problem waiting for him. About an hour after the call was made, the man shows up wearing a yellow polo with khaki shorts. He is an absolute tank of a man and has reddish blonde hair just about everywhere that Achilles can see and wear glasses. His reddish beard is a sight to behold. Achilles is stunned by how thick and beefy he is for his height since he is not an extremely tall guy. The two of them decided to go eat at a nearby pier restaurant and are discussing the day and evening plans. The man tells him how he wishes he was a little taller because he feels so small for his height. Achilles disagrees completely with his thinking but does understand why the man would feel the way he does. They finish their meals and go back to the beach to enjoy their evening. The man decides to take his shirt off to reveal the thick hairy muscles on his chest and lies down beside Achilles so they talk for a little bit about general things. After about a half-hour, Achilles dares the man to go into the water without any of his clothes on. The man accepts the dare and strips his pants off to reveal nicely shaped quads, a huge ass, and a great cock. He jumps into the water and yells for Achilles to join him. It doesn’t take much for him to take all of his clothes off and join the large man. The two of them gaze into each other’s eyes and start kissing. Achilles holds the hairy stud in his arms and decides to close his eyes. He starts to imagine what would happen if the man suddenly grew taller and gained more muscle on top of what he already had. He asks the man what his name is and he says it is Jon. Achilles smiles and hugs Jon really tight with his eyes still closed. After a couple of minutes, he feels Jon tightening up and hears him moan in a really deep husky tone. The hunky muscle bear is beginning to feel a major change happening from within. Achilles feels Jon's back starting to stretch wider and his spine begins popping adding several inches to his frame. His back continues to get thicker and more developed with each second. Jon's glasses break as his head grows larger accommodating his new size. His hairy pecs are getting incredibly dense and quite hard as well as his abs and quads. Achilles can feel Jon's cock lengthen beneath his own as he continues to keep his eyes closed. As he continues to hold him, the grip he had on Jon is getting looser since he no longer can feel Jon's face. Instead it is his chest that is in front of his head now. Jon's voice has deepened exponentially too as he can feel Jon's growing glutes on his hands. When Achilles does open his eyes, he looks up at the newly tall Jon and smiles at him. Jon smiles back and lifts Achilles up to his face to give him a passionate kiss. The two muscle gods start worshipping each other, rubbing their chests together as the waves hit them and they take in the warm evening sun. They both admit that they like each other quite a bit and must do this again sometime soon. Achilles tells him that unfortunately he has to leave since he has another engagement to attend to the next day. Before he leaves though, Jon grabs a hold of his waist and squeezes his huge rod into Achilles hole to give him a goodbye fuck. The sensation sends him into absolute bliss as Jon thrusts in and out of him for several minutes before he finally pulls out and cums on to Achilles huge beefy pecs. They kiss one last time and he departs for his next destination. Achilles looks inside his calendar book and sees that New York is going to be his next stop on the way. He manages to hop into a taxi located near the pier and it drives him to the nearest rental shop to pick up a car. Once he gets there, he selects his car and begins his drive to New York. At a rest stop on one of the highways up, he calls his good buddy in the city and asks him where he wants to meet him. The other man mentions a park near where he lives so they can talk. Achilles says that is okay with him but it will probably take a few hours before he can there. The man says that he has to get some errands done in the meantime and eat dinner with his husband. Achilles decides to stop at a local hotel for the night to get some rest before getting up the next morning to eat a hearty breakfast. He manages to arrive at the park, but he is a little late. He sees his good buddy sitting on a bench relaxing and watching the birds up in the trees. He turns to look at Achilles and has a Cheshire cat smile. He is wearing a white t-shirt with white pants and has really wide pecs that jut out quite prominently from his chest. Achilles notices them from the moment he saw him sitting there. He goes to sit beside the beefy man and strikes up a conversation all the while trying to keep his distance because he knew the man was married. After a few minutes of just random chit chat, Achilles closes his eyes and imagines his older buddy getting a lot bigger and thicker. He hears the man squirming beside him on the park bench and hears his muscles stretching and popping. Without opening his eyes, Achilles asks the growing man, 'Richard, are you feeling okay?' Richard answers in a rough tone, ‘uhhh, I think so. I seem to be in the middle of a growth phase right now.' Achilles opens his eyes and notices Richard’s pecs swelling up and out into huge hairy boulders of muscle. His beefy legs are beginning to stretch the fabric of his pants. Incredibly, he watches in amazement as Richard's back and lats bust their way through his t-shirt. His enormous pecs are now shredding the front of his shirt and are bouncing involuntarily when it finally falls off. His beefy arms have developed into cannons and his shoulders are now getting absurdly huge. He is now hairier then he was before. Richard starts flexing his new bis and tris and can’t help but to rub all of the new muscle that just appeared. His greyish goatee has turned back to black as well as the fur on his body. Achilles can hear Richard's pants ripping the seams down the sides exposing his new gargantuan quads with their diamond-shaped muscularity. Achilles starts rubbing him up and down feeling his new massiveness. He won’t try to have sex with him, but compliments him on his dramatic transformation. Richard is quite thankful for Achilles' help in getting him over the plateau and tells him that he will remember this someday when they meet again. Achilles is glad that Richard is happy but has to admit that he needs to go meet someone in Georgia and must leave in just a bit. Before he leaves though, Richard wants him to meet his hubby and to see the reaction he will have to his growth. Achilles thinks this is a great idea and will wait to meet him. After a few phone calls and about twenty more minutes, Richard’s husband arrives and barely recognizes him in all of his buff glory. After a few laughs from the three men, Achilles says his goodbyes to the couple and sets off for the southern states. It will take him nearly two more days to arrive at his next destination Atlanta, Georgia. There he is going to meet his good friend, G T, and take in the sights of the city. He reaches him by phone the night he gets there and wants to meet up. G T tells Achilles to stop by the gym he is at right now. When he gets there, G T is in the middle of his workout. He stands and watches G T pumping his huge beefy chest with some nice sized dumbbells. He has a huge back already, but Achilles is starting to imagine what G T will look like with a much larger one. He wears thin glasses and has very fine curly black body hair all over his chocolate-colored skin. Achilles remains standing and closes his eyes creating a picture in his head of what G T will look like as a much denser version of himself. The clanking of the dumbbells he is using slows down quickly and he can hear the big black man grunting more than before. Then he hears a faint sound coming from G T's body, one that sounds quite promising. This time, Achilles wants to keep his eyes open to watch G T’s transformation, but notices that it halts when he opens them. G T is lying on a bench doing his dumbbell flys, but feels something happening in his chest. Achilles decides to close his eyes again to start thinking about G T's growth once again and starts to imagine his arms swelling. He can hear the black stud grunting again as G T starts noticing his arms getting even beefier than before but much more solid. He doesn't have the vascularity, but his muscles are definitely growing. He does a rep or two and watches his hairy pecs moving up and down growing wider and more defined. His legs appear to be getting much thicker too as well as his back thickening outward. Achilles opens his eyes and looks down at G T lying on the bench nearly falling off the side with his new body. He manages to get up to smile at him while still wearing his glasses. The two men manage to get a few rubs in on each other before G T has to go shower and find some clothes that are a few sizes up from where he was before. Once he dresses, the two studs decide to go to dinner and discuss workout tips. Achilles receives a text from a good friend down in Miami that wants him to come and meet him for a few hours. He tells G T that he can’t stay much longer, but he will definitely come back when he has more time. G T wanted to spend the evening with Achilles and seems a tad aggravated, but he will settle for some kind of parting gift. They determine an arm wrestling match would suffice and it ends with a draw. Achilles bids G T adieu for now after eating a very satisfying meal. His trip to Miami takes almost an entire day. He arrives and is blown away by the tropical setting and the wonderful beaches. He stops at one of them to take in the air and to just peer out on to the Atlantic Ocean. While walking barefoot down the coast, he receives another text from his friend and is told to meet him at his condo. Once he gets there, he is met by a nicely built man wearing all Under Armour gear and has a well-kempt beard with an impressive tattoo covering his huge right arm. The man smiles big at Achilles and hugs him for nearly an entire minute. He then introduces Achilles to his boyfriend. After the nice introduction, Achilles and the hunky man leave to catch a bite to eat. It is decided that it would be natural to go eat Cuban food, so they do. The big Brit can’t help but to take in the man's huge frame and incredible body lines as they head to the restaurant. He knows the hunk has a boyfriend, but is completely smitten with him anyway. They end up in a corner booth at the restaurant and start talking about books and music. They learn that both of them have similar interests. The conversation eventually changes to talking about beaches. The tall hunk mentions South Beach and how they really need to just go there and relax for a while. Achilles agrees with his suggestion and says they should take their food with them. After packing their meals to go, they get there and find a spot to finish eating. The man sheds his shirt when he finishes and pulls his pants off to show off his incredible legs. He is also wearing a speedo and it makes his butt look amazing. Achilles can’t believe how great this man looks already. The tall stud decides to take a little stroll down the beach for a few minutes, so Achilles closes his eyes and imagines the man growing bigger as he walks. Achilles yells, 'Victor, hold on mate, you are getting too far away from me.' Victor yells back, 'Then get your tush over here.' Achilles remains seated to continue visualizing his buddy growing as he takes each additional step. As Achilles focuses on his fantasy, Victor starts to feel a sensation traveling through his entire body. He looks down to see his quads thickening up and his butt growing. The growth is so sudden that he is not prepared for his speedo to start ripping apart at the seams. His chest, already thick and dense, starts to fill out more than before as well as his back. His big arms are even thicker which makes the tattoo on his right arm appear more stretched. His growing crotch isn't helping matters either as his speedo barely clings to his muscles. He shouts for the Brit to come over and wrap him in a towel before the speedo decides to fly away. Achilles quickly opens his eyes, runs over to Victor, and grabs the towel they used to eat on to wrap the growing stud up in. The speedo ends up falling off on to the sand and looks like nothing but a piece of fabric. Achilles feels how large Victor's cock is, but doesn't attempt to go further since he knows that he has a boyfriend at home. The two manage to exchange a kiss for good sake though. Knowing how embarrassed Victor is, Achilles takes him to the car and drives him back to the condo. Victor invites him in for a drink, but Achilles says that he needs to go since things didn't turn out quite the way he hoped they would. He needs to take the car to the local rental shop anyway. He says his goodbyes to Victor and travels to the rental company. There he grabs a taxi to take him to the Miami airport and books a flight to Chicago to meet up with another buddy. When he leaves the airport at O'Hare, he hails another taxi to take him to Uptown. His friend in uptown Chicago isn’t quite like the others. He isn't muscular by any means, but he does have a strong thirst for it. The man will be off work in the mid-evening and has already talked to Achilles about meeting up at a local Chinese restaurant. The Brit isn't really fond of Chinese food, but he is willing to eat it if it appeals to his friend. The guy gives him the coordinates to 'Panda Express' and they meet up there. After texting him a few minutes earlier, the man shows up wearing glasses, a black t-shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. He doesn't look like the other men Achilles has been in contact with, but he is interesting. He is also very friendly and excited to be eating at his favorite restaurant. The two men talk a lot about guys in general and how the man just wants to be as massive as humanly possible. Achilles figures out pretty quickly that this guy is into macro growth and loves giant musclemen. It is a fantasy that never really came up until now. He didn't want to imagine this happening in the restaurant so he decides to wait until they went somewhere more isolated. When they finish eating, the two guys go outside to walk to the naval pier. The Brit starts checking this guy out and sees that a major physical change could make a difference in this man's life. He stops to close his eyes and begins to focus in on his friend David's voice. Achilles envisions his slim hairy body and adorably nerdy looks transforming into godlike proportions. He hears David starting to growl in a really deep voice. His skin is starting to stretch and the sound of clothes ripping fills the air. The Brit hears David’s arms expanding to gargantuan size. He flexes his biceps as they are growing shredding his t-shirt sleeves. His growing hairy chest is noticeably hairier now and is getting more powerful by the minute by tearing its way through the rest of his t-shirt. He can feel his back getting wider and wider making the growing nerd thirst for more. His thin legs are now thickly muscled and straining against the fabric in his jeans. He feels them busting the seams out the sides exposing his more defined bubble butt. David's long cock is now much longer making its way out of his underwear which has fallen to the ground. Achilles hears him moaning and grunting as he is getting taller also. The muscles in his back continuously pop making additional space for more height. The quiet and reserved nerd is now a massive monster. Achilles finally opens his eyes and sees the new David standing in front of him. The two big men are in such lust that they start to have sex right there on the pier. This date will have quite an effect on Achilles. David’s penetration leads to a growth sequence for the Brit. He feels his body swelling as David thrusts his long cock inside him. David loves it so much that he can feel Achilles’ body reacting to the fucking. The Brit grows nearly 20 pounds by the time they finish. The two studs lie on the pier talking about random things and cuddle lovingly. They have become very close friends now. David refers Achilles to a man he knows on the other side of Chicago. He tells him that he will talk to him after he meets the other man. Achilles gives David a nice long kiss before he leaves and gets up to find a taxi around the pier. The man is described as a giant man himself. He isn't entirely fit, but his sheer size is something to behold. They are meeting at a club close to the heart of Chicago. David tells Achilles what he looks like so he isn't that hard to miss. Sure enough, this man is standing close to the entrance of the club David told him about. They say their hellos and go inside. In the club, they start talking about each other’s muscles and how they both enjoy flexing in front of other men. This guy admits that he only does it on camera for fun and not for money. This surprises Achilles in a way, but he understands. The man sheds his shirt and starts dancing on the floor. His huge pecs and shoulders have definitely caught Achilles eyes. He joins him on the floor and starts rubbing his chest and looking up at the man's big grin as he starts licking his biceps. He isn’t exactly Achilles' type, but he goes with the flow. Next thing he knows, the man starts to grind on him. The Brit pushes him away, but the man just comes back and starts doing it again. He realizes that this man enjoys the aggressiveness of it all so he gets into it even more. With the two still dancing, Achilles closes his eyes and starts imagining this man getting bigger as he talks with more authority. He asks what the man's name is and he says it is Rick. Rick pushes his giant pecs into Achilles face while his eyes are still closed. Achilles immediately opens his eyes and watches as Rick's pecs are swelling and starting to smother his face. The huge man grabs a hold of him and starts to grow rapidly. The club goers are watching in amazement as Rick is growing entirely out of his clothes and beyond. This is not the typical growth pattern Achilles is used to. Achilles can't get away from him so he attempts to wiggle his way out of his growing hands. Rick is so involved in the transformation that he just lets go of him by accident. His entire body is going through a dramatic change growing muscle on top of muscle. Rick’s cock is now hitting the floor causing him to start stroking it without a second thought. Achilles doesn't stick around to see the rest of the transformation as he is so distraught over what he has done to Rick. He calls David back and tells him that seeing his friend may have been a mistake and that he needs to fly to San Francisco in the meantime to meet up with a friend there. David tells him that he hopes they can meet again really soon because he had such a fantastic night. The two studs hang up and the Brit gets in a taxi located outside the club to go back to O'Hare and fly to San Francisco. The flight takes the entire day so when he arrives in the West Coast city, he goes to a hotel and gets some much needed rest. He will get up the next day to meet with his good friend in person. His friend sent him a text telling him to meet up in the Castro, the center of gay life in the city. Achilles meets his good buddy at a local sports bar and is pleasantly surprised to see the reddish-brown haired muscle bear smiling at him when he goes to sit on a bar stool. They shake hands and the man gives him a nice big bear hug. They start talking and the man tells him that he is in an open relationship where his partner and his self are allowed to pursue their own interests as long as they don't cheat without the other's permission. Achilles thinks that this is an interesting proposition to have. They start talking about all of the events the city offers and how the Brit always wanted to visit. The two men decide to go outside and walk around taking in the sights. Achilles stops for a moment to close his eyes and picture his friend getting bigger and more powerful. He motions him to wait for a minute because he wants to breathe in the air. 'Dan mate, this place has a great atmosphere.' Dan says, 'I'm glad that you decided to come here. I have so many things to show you.' Achilles smiles and says, 'I know you do.' After the exchange on the street, Achilles goes back to focusing on his good friend's beefy body. He hears Dan stop in his tracks and sort of whisper something. He can hear popping sounds coming from the thick bear. He opens his eyes and sees Dan's back stretching wider and getting denser and more powerful. The growing stud starts moaning and grunting seeing his body changing and getting thicker and more developed. His voice is becoming deeper and more boastful. He flexes his huge growing biceps making them rise higher and higher. His clothes have started to rip apart exposing explosive shoulders and traps. He turns to look at Achilles and shows him his wide hairy pecs getting more thickness. He is shocked to see his abs popping out of nowhere and extending to look like large slabs of concrete on his stomach. His legs blow out of his pants and have gotten hairier than before with more reddish-brown fur. Achilles is shocked at how sexy and strong Dan looks with his new body. He goes over to stroke Dan’s new muscles. Dan leans in for a passionate kiss and squeezes the now smaller Achilles in his arms. The Brit places his arms around the bigger bear and is essentially carried up into his chest. The two huge studs start making out and have sex. After this really long session, the two travel on over to where Achilles is staying so he can find some clothes for the new improved Dan. It is at that time Achilles tells Dan he must go to LA to meet up with this young guy he met on the forum. Dan wishes he could stay longer, but that he understands he must do what he has to do. Achilles gives Dan the key to his hotel room and wishes him luck on finding a new wardrobe. He leaves to find a taxi outside to take him to Los Angeles. It takes several hours before Achilles arrives in the one of the largest cities in America to track down his young aficionado. The two acquaintances decide to meet at his apartment in the middle of the city. He arrives at the housing community a little late, but the small man doesn’t mind. He opens the door to greet Achilles and lets him in after a little small talk. After the Brit enters, the college-aged guy reveals his nicely developed chest to him. He’s not entirely ripped, but his symmetry impresses Achilles a lot and sees great potential in the young man. He starts to close his eyes but before he does he says, 'Corey mate, you are looking bloody good.' Corey answers back with, ‘I’m trying, but it has been difficult for me to gain any weight at all.’ He admits that he really wants to massage the Brit very badly, but doesn’t want to offend him. Achilles is fine with allowing Corey to try and loosen up the kinks in his body. Now with his eyes closed, he feels the youngster’s hands slowly rubbing his tired and achy muscles along his shoulders and back. He creates a picture in his mind of Corey’s hands growing while he is trying to massage him. Sitting in a chair in Corey’s living room, Achilles feels something going on behind his head. He turns around to open his eyes and sees Corey's fingers swelling up and knows that the transformation has started to take shape. He hears him start moaning as the growth is moving up his arms now. The Brit sees every single vein and muscle in Corey’s arms start to stretch his skin out and force their way out from what seems like nowhere. This makes the young man react staring at his biceps and triceps growing. The feeling moves up to his shoulders now and eventually down to his chest where his pecs have swollen to twice their size and he is developing perfect six-pack abs. Then it moves to his legs, where he is still wearing his khaki shorts. His quads thicken so much that his shorts start to move up close to his waistline. Corey's growth is quite drastic as his face is much fuller and more mature than before. Achilles is quite surprised to see the smaller guy getting so big and powerful. He decides to get up himself to give the huge youngster a massage of his own since he needs it more than the Brit does. Corey walks over to a mirror to check his self out and is amazed at his new muscles. Achilles follows him over to where he is and gives him a nice rubdown before telling him that the two of them need to set up another time to meet again. The buff youngster wants to know why he would say that. Apparently while the Brit was sitting in the chair, he received a text from a good friend of his in the UK that really wants to see him again. He tells Corey that this bloke doesn't have a lot of time to interact with him because of his schedule and he needs to leave right away. Despite his disappointment, Corey understands the situation and gives Achilles a huge goodbye squeeze. The Brit rushes into the taxi he left there and rides to the airport to fly back to the UK. He arrives in London on time to find that his good mate has sent a taxi to the airport to pick him up. He wants Achilles to meet him at one of the spots he just did a photo shoot at to show him a few things. It takes about a half hour for the Brit to get to the Thames River and wait for his good friend to arrive. He decides to lean down where the water begins and stare at himself to pass the time and admire his size. He currently sits at 280 and would love to add that extra 20 to make it an even number. He flexes his huge guns not noticing that smaller arms are now wrapped around him squeezing really tight. The other bloke laughs and says, 'whoa mate you sure do know how to make me remember you.' Achilles turns to give the man a huge bear hug and kisses him tightly. After putting him down he boasts, 'Chris mate, you are looking bloody beautiful.' Chris has blonde highlights in his brown hair, looks to have a ripped physique, and may even be more attractive than he remembers. He picks Chris up again to give him another hug and is talking to him in a really playful manner. Chris tells him to close his eyes and just relax so he can tickle him. Achilles knows that he is ticklish and won't budge. Instead he goes into another visual fantasy with his friend Chris still in his arms. He really wants Chris to grow as big as him and to feel every single muscle twitch, pop, and stretch as he holds him. The Brit focuses his energy completely on his good mate. As they stand there by the river, Achilles feels Chris's rippling abs along his own thick abdomen and wants them to grow. He hears the other Brit moaning as his body is starting to react making Achilles have to push his arms out and away from him. Chris’s abs start making popping sounds stretching as his tight pecs blow up into thick balloons. His fit arms are bulging with immense power as they explode in size. His cute face now has a more mature look to it than before the change. Even before the growth moves to Chris’s lower body, Achilles is making love to his friend as he kisses and worships the growing bloke’s heaving chest. He feels Chris's back pulling his shirt tighter and it starts shredding in multiple places. He lets go of him due to the fact that Chris is getting taller now. His back is popping and appears to be making room for more muscle to grow. His legs are starting to rip his pants in half exposing his massive quads. This isn't the typical growth pattern Achilles is used to seeing. He is basically turning Chris into his equal. His mindboggling growth is actually stretching his skin and leaving marks. Achilles pulls his pants down to penetrate him and fuck him. Chris's clothes are already shredded and his fit 160 pound body has exploded to 280. His extreme growth has made him six inches taller now. The two British muscle studs have sex all night long as they fuck each other over and over again. Unlike his previous sessions, Achilles stays with his buddy overnight. When he gets up the next morning, he realizes that he has to make one more stop before he heads home. His time with Chris is most likely his favorite, but he does have feelings for most of the guys. He wishes he can stay with Chris a little longer, but his flight to Sydney is just a couple of hours from now and he needs to get moving. Chris tells him not to worry about it and they will meet again sometime soon. He even rides with Achilles to the airport to see him off. They kiss each other goodbye and the Brit-Kiwi boards the plane for Sydney, Australia. He won’t arrive there until later in the day. He has already been there before so he knows the city quite well. His Australian buddy is waiting for him at a restaurant just a little ways from the airport. He wants to eat a late-night dinner with Achilles after a hard workout at the gym. He has never met this man in person, but he has seen his pictures before. The man immediately recognizes him and kids him about his nervous energy. He is a typical looking bodybuilder, probably just getting off a cutting cycle. There is no hair on him that the Brit can see, since the man is wearing a loose button-up shirt and board shorts. They sit down and eat some of the local cuisine and just talk about random stuff. It is nice for Achilles to just settle down a bit before he goes back to Taupo. Instead of waiting to go somewhere first, Achilles closes his eyes as the man is sitting there talking to him. 'Luke mate, I am picturing you right now growing and enjoying every moment of it.' Luke stares at him as his eyes widen and a smile appears on his face. He is starting to feel something happening to him as they sit there. The Aussie feels a sudden rush of adrenaline moving up his spine. Achilles envisions him with a body that rivals some of the biggest heavyweights in the world. Trying not to make a scene by creating too much noise, Luke quietly sits in his seat and grunts as his clothes are getting really tight. The sound of rippage starts to echo throughout the eatery. His expanding back shreds the entire back out of his shirt and keeps going. His arms sitting on the table blow up like cannons. Achilles feels the table starting to quake as Luke's legs bust out the seams on his shorts. His sandals fall apart as his feet continue growing. He can't move now as his massive chest lifts the bolted-down table from the floor. With his eyes now open, the Brit tries to get out of the way but isn’t fast enough. Luke has so much testosterone pumping through his body that he literally pulls the table out of the floor and throws it to the side. Achilles is lifted up by the hulking Aussie and his shirt is ripped completely off. Luke tries to suck on Achilles' nipples to make him submit so he can dominate. The two men have emptied the eatery and start horsing around with each other. Before the police get a chance to arrive, the two huge studs are hoping they won't get caught and have to pay for damages to the restaurant. The problem is Luke is so massive that he has nothing to wear. Achilles manages to find a towel in the eatery to put around Luke's waist until they can get some clothes for him. He manages to drive the brute back to his flat since he has a boyfriend already and tells him that they will continue this wild adventure when he has more time. Luke isn't that keen on Achilles answer, but will hold him to his promise. Achilles manages to find a taxi down the street from Luke’s flat and rides to the airport. After his journeys all over the world, the Brit arrives back in Taupo and is met by a local who takes him to his house that hasn't been touched in weeks. He goes inside to take a much needed shower, but not before he walks past a wall mirror and notices his reflection. He is amazed at how much bigger he is compared to when he left. He stands there and starts posing, checking out all the muscles staring back at him. He imagines himself growing beyond the walls of his house, becoming more than a man. He doesn't have to close his eyes this time because he can just focus his energy on his body through the mirror. In just a short amount of time, he can feel changes happening. He feels the stretching and popping coming from all over his body and it makes him roar with anticipation. He is nude now and the growth is making his skin feel like fabric. He is soaring past the 300 pound mark and it keeps going as his chest swells up, his legs push even further apart, his arms grow thicker, and his height increases. His immense size starts to make the foundation of the house react and huge cracks start appearing down the walls. He is now living out his ultimate fantasy and never wants it to stop. This might be the end of the story, but then again it might not be. Who knows how far Achilles will go with his imagination. Check out other stories with this character here: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3910-the-other-side-of-the-species/(mentioned, but not a main character) http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2250-achilles-does-a-body-good/(supporting character)
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