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  1. michaeldavid

    Surprise! (Part IV added May 11th)

    Joe's Perspective I fell in to this line of work quite innocently. I mean, I'm not innocent nor devoid of what's called "a past" but I didn't seek out turning tricks. I'm good at it. That's probably what sent me down this path. One after another lover, one night stand and boyfriend told me I could charge. So did the women. It's not just the size of my cock - ample, extremely hard and bulbous when I am visually stimulated - but as a former dancer, I can move my hips in ways many others only admire. And stamina...that was my nickname amongst a tight group of swingers I enjoyed through college. I'm Joe. I'm a gigolo. I'm bisexual. I'm doing well for myself. In my early thirties, I'm just a year or three into playing with a pretty exclusive clientele. I have a handler that watches my back, checks out the Johns and takes a chunk. But I'm worth a lot, so it is of no consequence to share a cut. What he does is useful. Being relatively fresh in the game - I'm still desirous to many, a regular repeat to some and experienced by enough. I've learned how to read a client, man or woman. I can make them crazy with the heat, as it were, no matter their base tastes or unique fetishes. I qualify as a stud to anyone that likes orgasms. True, dark brunette Superman curl hair with that all-so-playable length that tousles perfectly as I command and looks excellent wherever it lands. It can't ever look dirty it's so healthy. The kind of thickness that belies my age and will never thin.A face that is handsome, but not devastating. Kind eyes that I use to kill, which is ironic. I have a deep, five o'clock shadow by noon, but look baby smooth right after shaving. You feel like you can look at me and admire without having to be jealous. Really, despite my incredible body, this face is my secret weapon. I've worked hard for a competition level physique. I maintain a degree of strength that surpasses even the size of my muscles. My pecs are perfectly hairy, though trimmed to model status. They are full, jut, and feel pillowy when relaxed but change species and show every striation when I flex. They bunch, practically growl, roll bottom to top and all but pull up the surface of my midsection. That core has all the trimmings...eight cobblestones, obliques before a crunch, a beautiful little outie and the belt Adonis bequeathed me when he died. Arm with all three heads in the triceps and both heads in the biceps. If one can see that clearly with the slightest flex - I don't need to describe any more. I'm clearly strong but apparently agile and capable. Rather than arms that are over built and definition-less, they are arms of work and talent and so, so usable. Many a John has blown in the crook of the biceps and forearm and many a Jane has been slightly penetrated by the flexed peak while I lift her, flex into her and let her ride to bliss. Suffice it to say I have wheels to match. All of it. Great hair pattern and length, no skimping on muscle, but really more of rugby size than no fat. Large feet, but not ridiculous. Obviously, an ass that not only has seen a squat rack, but makes it my bitch with sometimes hours of pounding. I found, long ago, that nothing takes my stress away like sweaty hours in the squat rack until sweat runs rivulets down my troughed back into the deep cavern said squats are creating by building mounds of ass. You might not believe more women than men get in that ass. They LOVE it. I oblige. Most men hire me as top because of my clear alpha look. Truth is - - I like everything. Anything that gives pleasure is in my toolbox. I use all the tools and enjoy them all. Variety is one of the things that drew me into this world. As much as I like to receive pleasure, I relish giving it. Nothing makes my civilian life happier than knowing that after a solid glance with a nod or wink, a slight flex or bounce, a hearty laugh in a crowd or a moment to bend over or push my curls back that several people in any group use me as masturbation fodder that night. Some, even sooner in a stall. Delights me. Use me, I say. John's Perspective The craving has been building for months. I want a man. A big man. One who knows he is stunning, but is kind about it. One who could crush most anyone. One who knows his way around the male anatomy. Despite searching in the usual places, I'm failing at achieving a moment with a stud. It is hard for me to attract a man. There are barriers most men don't experience. Even as I've gotten a few men to commit to time in the sack with me, it is usually brief. I'm interested in several turns. I want to give and receive. I want to be manhandled. I NEED to be manhandled. After faltering so many times in the past year, I'm ready to take the plunge. Spend some big bucks on a professional. I'm willing to shell out for a great experience. I have saved a specific sum to do so. It has taken time to find the right man. And now that I've seen him, I can hardly breathe thinking about - - imagining what we might do together. I'm building up quite the expectation level based on his reviews, some inside information and those God damned pictures floating around of him. Joe. God...yum. Professional black and white head shots showing a face you want to have rather than just look at. A face that can sell anything from cologne (and you KNOW how chiseled those mugs have to be) to flannel draped paper towels. Lips and mouth that ask for a kiss. Ears that are perfectly grabbable from under a mane of hair that is all at once styled and free. I've seen him bearded. Perfectly so. No space, but so smooth when shaved. Colorful, full motion shots from athletic endeavors. Rather than the standard workout pics, or even more mundane, the pic in the mirror after the workout, Joe has multiple photos of him in action in varying sports. Always appropriately clothed. Always filling those fucking clothes to the brim without looking like they bought a kit way too small to show off. He's just a lot of man. I'm a sports junkie and I'm telling you he looks like he knows what he's doing in every shot. A powerful swing of a golf club with a twist clearly driving the ball while his polo just sticks to everything. A big leap from the floor with huge Jordans, legs too thick for ball and a jersey that rides up to show a lower torso that appears photo shopped and arms reaching the ball to the rim exposing these dark, deep, muscle surrounded pits that are only overshadowed when you realize he's near the rim and not that far from the ground. And he is going to stuff it in that hole! Damn. You know - those kinds of sports shots. Eye candy. He wears his fucking clothes, too. They always look good enough to buy because you believe they'll look as good on you. Picture after picture. But I can't find video of him. He must be very careful about that. And I haven't seen a single shirtless pic. Nothing gratuitous, really. For a quick second I wonder if he is maybe not equipped for a weekend like I'm planning. He has to be willing to reciprocate completely. He has to be ready to pitch and catch. Oh - did I mention his ass in the baseball pics? What if the lack of this kind of evidence means he can't make me believe he wants me? I need him to make me believe he wants me. Joe's Preparation My handler has secured a lucrative weekend for me. I'm to arrive midday Friday at a popular and expensive resort on the outer banks of Carolina. Strange place for a higher priced meeting. The closeted red, middle coastal states don't exactly welcome free sexual expression and though there are boys there with some of my height and a little of my strength, I haven't seen one that isn't just there for school from out of state that is anywhere close to the shape I'm in. I'll stand out for sure. But that just gave me a semi. I make myself fully available to the gentleman, who requires the promise of privacy by remaining device free until Monday morning. That's a L O N G time and I hope he is playful and fun. The rich usually have a lower chance of that. But I always rock their world. I feel like I'm sounding super cocky. Ha - I just said cock. I can actually be very youthful and silly, too. Rather than cocky, I am confident and powerful in my self. That includes being able to take a step back and give others the lead. I've been told to be prepared for a surprise. This gentleman doesn't have the regular physical abilities of others and I have strict instructions to treat him like every other person and not acknowledge his limitations. I've actually been in similar situations and I'm sure I can handle it well. I've been asked to pack for a round of golf, time by the pool, time at the beach, nice dinner out and to bring workout clothes. Specific mention of no pajamas, which is adorable. I plan to arrive having shaved on the plane so I'm smooth and ready and freshly scrubbed from a morning HIIT workout that will make all my muscles and veins standout. Those workouts also make me very horny. I'll be ready. John's Preparation I've decided to meet Joe at a hotel resort about thirty minutes from where I live. I've never hired for a weekend. I'm really blowing a wad for him and hope to blow many more, as it were. I dream of his huge arms around me. I dream of my face close to his. I imagine his breath sweet. I want those eyes locked on mine, though from my seated position he'll have to angle. I want him to touch me everywhere, even where I might not feel it. I want him to undress me because he wants to undress me. I'll need his help, of course, too. My friends tell me not to get my hopes up. I only have a couple of close friends since my situation is off-putting to many. Folks just get uncomfortable when they don't understand what life is like. They gawk, they turn away when I look at them, they whisper. And it has happened for as long as I can remember. But this weekend promises to be my escape. It WILL be great because I'm determined for it to be so. Hopefully the money will help Joe comply with all my wishes. Perhaps the awkwardness will not touch us because of our arrangement. I want it to feel authentic. It's really time for something to feel authentic... Even if it isn't.
  2. Omeganomicon

    Week of the Omeganomicon (Finished!)

    Week of the OmegaNomicon: Monday: Tom awoke one morning to another shitty day in his shitty life. He was an absolute baby bitch and everyone knew it. Not even a smart one. Just a little dweeb with no friends, no self esteem, and no future, doomed to walk through his 13th year of post-highschool (seriously who's idea was it to have a whole extra set of classes with nothing but 19-21 year old students in a high school setting?) as the biggest and most forgettable loser on campus. e; He hated it, every day he'd wake up, go to class, watch as the two jocks of the football team, Mike and Ethan, practically fucked their bitches in front of him every day for every class. Every day mike would let Lisa grind atop his lap through homeroom, directly in front of Tom for what seemed like hours, licking each other like savages... Lisa was by far the sexiest woman in the STATE and had the reputation to prove it with tales of being able to drain a man's balls by kissing him. meanwhile Ethan would be flirting with a different girl every week. He was a man who liked his variety. Emphasis on the variety. To make matters even worse, Tom had Mike for EVERY class of the day, and both of them for P.E. where things were outright ridiculous. I've heard of shirts vs skins but what fucking teacher let them play jocks vs losers, underwear only, winner plays the girls? Ethan and Mike were the absolute alphas of the campus and everyone from the international club to the principal knew it. What they wanted, they got. Passes on unrully behavior, chicks flooding their lockerrooms each begging to be pimped out to the team, and MOTHER FUCKER their genetics. Perfect pectoral muscles in both of them jetting at MINIMUM of an inch and a half from their rock hard six packs leading a cobblestone path to their massive cocks. Tom had only heard rummors, but stacy-suck-em-dry-spencer(obvious school slut is obvious) was apparently a reliable source claiming both to be well over seven inches and thick as paper towel roll's cardboard center. But today was different from normal. For Tom was soon to discover a brand new addition to the school library.... The OmegaNomicon Lost for centuries, and recently discovered in an abandoned opium den, this legendary tomb carries with it the incredible power to create, destroy, or even steal the alphabetrium from any source (in laymans terms, it's a muscle growth story catalyst). Tom opened his locker after a grueling day of being beaten senseless by the jocks to discover the book. Curious he picked it up and carried it with him to the library, where he spent his recess. "For the alphas hidden among us cursed with the bane of weakness, there is hope for thee yet. Simply adhere to the enchantments listed within to transform yourself into whatever form you wish." Tom became fixated upon the "Alpha male in a week" recipe from within the first few pages. Within it was instructions: -Step 1: Create an alphabetrius tentragram (like a pentagram but with a stronger triangular shape) -Step 2: Cite the right of growth at midnight, each night, for seven days. -Step 3: Once recited, one simply needs to give forth a binding offering of one's ...love essence... to the circle.... (At this point Tom was pretty concerned this book was a bit filthier than he initially thought but he was desperate to stop being a loser) -Step 4: The effects of the ritual will depend on the condition of which the essence was released based off a set of rules: -Rule 1: All catalysts must elect to give themselves to the transformee of their own choice. Forcing ones self on others against their will negates all the effects granted by the omeganomicon. -Rule 2: All catalysts must chose to participate without the transformee being knowlegable of prostitution. -Rule 3: The transformee must attract the mating catalyst on their own, otherwise the effects of the omeganomicon will transfer to the true alpha upon discovery of wing-manidry. -Rule 4: Love essense of one's self will cause growth, but only at a minimal rate. Conditioning the essense by combining it with a catalysts's essense will strengthen the effect by the total mass of that catalyst. -Optional Rule 5: If one wishes, including the blood of the catalyst in the ritual will double one's yield by absorbing additional mass from the catalyst. To tripple ones yield, one may also throw the entire catalyst themselves, reducing their essence and conscientiousness to the transformee's own energy. Tom returned home that night to an empty apartment, as his roommate had left for the weekend, shaking in anticipation. As midnight approached, he created the symbols on the floor exactly as the book depicted, and jacked off into a small shot glass with his tiny three inch dick cumming after less than five minutes of staring at a modern living magazine cover. As midnight approached he spoke the words of the book and poured his sperm into the center of the triangle.... And nothing happened. After a few minutes, he gave up and decided to clean up his mess in the morning... TUESDAY MORNING: IT WORKED! Tom screamed into the bathroom mirror. He almost didn't notice the muscular improvement, but he sure as fuck noticed his completely cleared up vision and luscious hair styled like a boyband douchebags! He was thrilled! Amazed! Mystified! ...... Hungry.... He prepared himself his normal breakfast as he mulled over his situation.... Poking his arms and pinching them to confirm they'd grown.... Seven days.... He thought.... Quickly doing some mathmatics in his head... I'll only be about the size of Parker... (A medium sized kid on the swim team) and after that... There's no telling if this will even work ever again! Then the reality of the situation hit him. It wasn't enough. Like a malicious ghost waiting in the distance, Ethan and Mike were both still there, still just as big and still going to humiliate him as they always have. Even with alpha-alchemy on his side the jocks still win.... He needed more.... And he needed it faster.... -End of Part 1- Stay tuned for what happens on Tuesday! Part 2: Tuesday: It was clear there was only one means of emerging victorious: Tom was going to have to get laid. The book was pretty particular about this. He couldn't force himself on anyone (not that he had the power to do so), he couldn't pay someone to do it, and he had until midnight that night to do it or risk losing one of his precious remaining days. The twink eyed himself in the bathroom mirror. It was notably improved, but he needed more to get that "quickie-behind-the-sports-shed" sex Tom's superiors enjoyed at any moment's notice. He had small mostly-flubber biceps running about 12", a couple of abdominals if he flexed them, the illusion of pectorals, and a cock that while notably longer (5") and thicker than before, still wasn't much to work with considering the competition... He thought about it all the way to class when he noticed someone in the hallway: Grenda Hawks Grenda was the most horrible person Tom, or anyone else, had ever met. She was short, frail, angry, narcissistic, and repulsive to look at because of her misshapen teeth and weird body. ( You'll understand why I didn't provide visual aids for this one) But above all, she was desperate. See Grenda was in the same boat as Tom and appealed to absolutely nobody sexually. She was the female beta, cast to the outskirts of the campus library to snitch on people for chewing gum. Tom didn't like this plan. It didn't seem to be the best fish in the sea, and if given time his new twink body may have hooked someone far less pungent... But he needed the leverage. He bit his tongue and began reciting to himself over and over "You're doing this to get bigger, you're doing this to get bigger..." as he walked up to Grenda. "Hey... Grenda is it?" "Yeah? What do you want? Who are you?" "It's me, Tom! You know the small guy from Homeroom? I sit in the back?" "I sit in the front so, no, I don't know you." "I was just wondering.... If you'd like to do something later tonight?" "EXCUSE ME?!?" "I... I... I'm sorry I just figured I'd try to ask you out because you... Just seem like a fun time..." Grenda was not happy about this, and promptly kicked Tom square in the shin as she turned to walk away muttering something about "The nerve of that little punk..." Tom was flabbergasted. He had expected her to be a complete bitch about the scenerio, but he at least thought he'd be able to talk her into some fooling around after a day. With this, his dreams were crushed. If he couldn't get Grenda Hawks to go on a date with him, there's no way he'd EVER get the chance to capitalize on the book's time-limit, and decided to just continue to lunch. Towards the end of lunch, and as Tom stared miserably into his french fries, his phone lit up. It was a message to him through twitter, to his disbelief, apologizing for her actions earlier, chalking it up to distrust, and accepted his invitation to dinner that evening. Tom used the remainder of his lunch period to go buy a box of condoms from the gas station with a strange happy yet concerned outlook. Tom had only just opened the door to Grenda when he found out JUST how desperate to fuck Grenda was when no one was watching... She instantly started rubbing her tongue against him as soon as she saw no one else was home. Tom was disgusted and gagged a little in the back of his throat. The rest that followed was humiliating, sad, and honestly quite cringy to discuss, but by the end of night, Tom had a condom coated in... Grenda ... ready for the ritual. Grenda left at about 8, leaving Tom plenty of time to get ready for the event. He wanted to study it this time. Feel it happening. The exact nature of the process down to the wire. He had a small notebook with notes, a video camera, and a scale set up. The book described the amplification as dependent on the mass of the catalyst (Grenda), whom for this example Tom estimated must have been somewhere between 90 and 110 lbs. And judging by his own records so far, using his own cum resulted in a mere 5lbs increase in muscle mass throughout the body. Midnight came, and just like before Tom performed the ritual and dropped the used condom into the circle. Unlike before however, the condom fizzled out of existence into a small flicker of flame once it hit the circle. Nothing else happened until about 1:20 am, at which point shit hit the fan. Tom's body began to glow with energy that surged through him like electricity causing every cell in his body to burn with ecstasy. He bent backwards in pleasure as pressure built up in his abs, pecs, biceps and ass, forcing them outward as his shaking hands caressed them. Feint veins started to appear across his biceps as the pressure continued to build, eventually forcing tom into a sitting position, where he promptly ripped of his shorts, and watched as his normal sized cock swelled to a much more impressive 6 to 7 inches. Needless to say, Tom was awake for quite some time exploring his new body. While not too much larger than the last iteration, the changes were MUCH more significant, defining a clear 6 pack and pectorals just large enough to jiggle a little when disturbed, and a clear collar bone pertruding between his two shoulders. He couldn't stop running his fingers across his chissled midsection only pausing to snag a nice fistful of his hardening dick. Eventually he weighed himself, showing that he'd put on an amazing 10lbs of muscle. At this rate, if he kept fucking Grenda, he'd amass to another 50lbs of muscle on top of this by the end of the period. That would be a nice bronze medal. 65 lbs more of muscle would allow him to finally stand up to Mike or Ethan, but not both, and surely would get him some respect, hell, maybe even a spot on a team somewhere... But then Tom looked back into his bathroom mirror and slowly started to grin mischievously. Why stop with bronze? End of part 2! Stay tuned to see what happens on wednesday! Wednesday: The next day, Tom did a few basic calculations. (He wasn't too smart, but he understood basic ratios). Grenda was roughly 100lbs and using her as the catalyst erected 10lbs of growth mass. Now that Tom was quite a bit sexier, with some real definition in his muscular assets, he had a bit more pull in getting girls to sleep with him quickly. Obviously Tom needed to be efficient as possible with this scheme, so the target was obvious: Laura. Laura wasn't the heaviest girl in school, only weighing in at least 300lbs. She was teased relentlessly for this still, but she'd lived with this adversity her whole life, and had developed a pride with her weight and had refined that into a unique aura that worked for her. If the math he'd done was right, he would earn 3x or maybe even more, the mass from using her as his catalyst. In just two days with Laura, he'd have already accumulated more than the remaining four days with Gretta. Today was the perfect day for it too, as he had gym with her that morning. All he had to do was wait until she was the last one out of the locker room after a class-period of showing off and she'd be putty in his hands. Something startled Tom as he entered the locker room though... (Besides the normal display of extreme masculinity) "Who the fuck is the new kid?" Said Blain, (some kid from the soccer team) Tom hadn't had thought of this. He'd just assumed that people would continue to ignore him or some magic nonsense would change his classmate's view of him... Guess that's expecting too much from the Omeganomicon... "Uh... Yeah my name's Tom, I... Just moved here!" Tom responded. "Huh... Guess that makes sense... He seems pretty good, what you think Mark?" Blain said to his friend Mark. "Fuck him, that little twink's got definition, but he's got no mass. We're going to wreak him. Hell, maybe it'll be fun for a few minutes before we dominate again." Mark said. Tom wasn't happy. He figured he'd at least have enough to make it off the loser team... This made things complicated. Tom tried relentlessly to look sexy in front of Laura, but it's not nearly as captivating if you're constantly shoved to the ground by people bigger than you... Never the less, after getting his ass handed to him, he took the rest of the game out after seeing laura had returned to the femail locker room alone. Tom followed her in and knocked on a locker so she could hear before she started undressing. "Hey." "Wha... Who are you? What are you doing in here? TF?!" "Woah, chill out. I followed you in here... I just wanted to meet you personally, because I think you're fine as fuck and I'd like to take you out on a date sometime..." "What the fuck? So you followed me into the locker room?" "Hey I could have been silent and watched you undress.... But I'm not a monster. Come on... Please?.... Don't make me beg..." Tom responded slowly walking closer and smiling the sexiest he could. "... You for real?" "I got a thing for larger women, and there's nothing sexier than one as comfortable as you are being one. Especially when they own it in that dress!" "Ok... Yeah, sure. A date, tomorrow at six." "To...Tomorrow?" Tom thought, and quickly. "Yeah, I got a piano lesson tonight I need to focus on. Besides, tomorrow there's going to be a meteor shower at about 8pm..." "Sounds romantic! I'm totally in! See you at 6!" "Bye little boy!" Tom considered that a win... But now he had a whole day he was going to have to waste.... He returned to the locker room where only Blain was left. "Hey kid... I saw you out there. You just took that beating like you've taken it every week for months, and didn't 'say SHIT about it." "Huh? Oh, pssh, yeah, I'm pretty tough. Mama didn't raise no bitch." "Hey, I'm not supposed to do this, but me and the other soccer team members were going to have some fun behind the pool house later at about 4pm, you can be my plus one. Let you get that taste of what a real man gets after a hard day of kicking ass. You earned it." "You serious? I mean I'm pretty busy but I guess I can... "You won't want to miss this. Trust me." Blain said as he walked out of the locker room. At the end of the day, Tom went to the pool house and walked around back. Back there was the whole team, stripped to their underwear passing a bong packed with what must have been a whole ounce of kush that they passed from person to person. Blain walked up and patted Tom on the back. "Hey guys, this is Tom. He's my boy. Took a ruthless beating today, LIKE A MAN! If he can do that, I think with some training he may be our new midfield." Before Tom could ask any questions Blain put the bong in Tom's hand and ordered him to take it. Tom had never done drugs before, but he sure as fuck wasn't going to piss off his new friends. Perhaps it was his improved stamina, but Tom ripped it like a champ and coughed for a solid minute, much to the amusement of the Alpha crowd around him. After he finished coughing a voice came from behind him: "Ooooh, fresh meat! Careful little boy, I want you coughing on some other shit real soon!" Tom turned around to find the source of the voice: Stacy-suck-em-dry-Spencer, the school slut. Tom became confused. "What's she doing here?" Only to be met with a roaring uprising of laughter from the team. "What do you think she's here for?" Suddenly it made perfect sense why everyone was in their underwear... "Lets get to it boys." Stacy said as she started removing her top and what little skirt she was wearing. Meanwhile a couple of the bigger athletes ripped off (I say ripped as in they didn't pull them down under their legs, they forced them bitches off tearing them to shreds) their underwear revealing their rock-hard cocks of various sizes. Tom had never seen another man's dick before so this put him off a bit, but gained his curiosity back when he saw two of the bigger guys start slamming Stacy between them. It didn't take long for the two to finish all over her, at which point she stood up. ' "That all you got daddy? Oh well mama needs a little more then THAT... Come on in babies, come get a piece of this." The rest of the team surrounded her menacingly and whipped their dicks out as they prepared to gangbang this slut. Maybe it was just the weed, but Tom was heightened to new levels from this experience. She was taking it all like a pro, not even flinching when they finished all inside of her ass face and pussy. Finally it was Tom's turn to saddle her up, which drew her attention. "Oh little boy isn't so little is he? Hmm? Gimmie that big boy cock baby... " That's when Blain chimed in "Lucky break dude, She doesn't fuck with small dicks. I guess that means you really are a winner like us!" That's when Tom realized the opertunity he was being presented with... All of these people were having sex with this girl... They must have had a combined mass of over 1000lbs! JACKPOT! Tom turned his bucking on high as he pushed Stacy faster and faster, until eventually she came all over his dick. "Wuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhaaaaaaa YEEEESSSSSSSSSS.... Ohhh fuck boys... You cleaned me out.... Same time Friday?" She said as she dipped herself into the pool and licking her own cum and others cum off of her. Tom went home after that with a sock he used to wipe the cum off his pelvis, shacking in anticipation. He could be an absolute titan. A god among men! He'd establish a new school order with the inhuman mass he would soon bestow upon himself. The ritual went forward with no hiccups, and the circle consumed the sock in the same way it consumed the condom. As the sock fizzled, the Omeganomicon burst open and flipped to the rule page, where in red, one of the rules became highlighted: The transformee must attract the mating catalyst on their own A shiver just went down Tom's spine before he realized his miscalculation, and realized how big of a bullet he just dodged. Considering the circumstance, it's very possible that gangbang would count as wingman-dry, in which case, ALL that extra mass would be transferred to the guy who got him laid... Blain... However, because the rest of the rule was NOT changed to a shade of red, he took that to mean it wasn't violated.(Which was accurate) In such a sceinerio, the various gangbangers do not count towards the total, only the gang-bang-ie who elected to fuck Tom of her own choosing or Stacy in this case. SO this wasn't the perfect storm of sexual conquest to make him a muscle god, so what? He was still fucking stoked as shit! He got to enjoy a gang-bang, he's still gonna get a decent amount of mass out of it, AND he still has Laura's date tomorrow! Tom quickly fell asleep and awoke the next morning to his new body. He was gorgeous, popping on another 10lbs of muscle, his arms were noticeably thicker, at least an inch or so more in circumference, he could feel the larger weight in his pectorals as they bounced atop his rock-hard 8-pack, but the big changes happened down lower. His gluts were huge now, making his ass finally fill out into a nice attractive bubbly shape, while his legs now seemed to almost double in size. (Don't worry, saved the best for last) And his dick was now a solid 7-8 inches. And thick as fuck. He weighed himself in, he was now a solid 145lbs (A whopping 30lbs more than he was at the start of the week). Tom was pleased with this transformation, and as he stared into his reflection admiring his new athletic build, all he could think about is how great it was going to feel doubling that increase in a single day. End of part 3! Thursday's coming out pretty soon! Thursday: Thursday was old Tom's favorite day of the week, no gym, or P.E., just basic average boring studies and club meetings. A pretty boring day. But this was the day Tom spent the most with Ethan, you remember him the second alpha of alphas... And today it was more awkward than normal... Ethan normally only focused on his harem of the week, but today, he was watching Tom like a hawk. He just sat there menacingly for the whole day. Eventually Tom just ignored it and carried on with his time. However during lunch, Tom was interrupted in the restroom by the sudden headlock of a man much larger than him... Ethan, "Whats up Tom... Heard quite a bit about you lately.... Gotta say, you look quite a bit bigger than the soccer team said... " Tom confused and concerned simply asked "Dude, let me go!" "Oh, no no no tiny Tom, see, I know your game. See I know what the fuck you're doing, and I take great offense to you cheating the natural order of things... " Tom bit his tongue. "Thats right little bitch, I know about the Challenge of Champions." Now Tom was confused. "I don't know who the fuck you're juicing off of, or how you're doing it, but if you gain another GRAM of mass without our permission, I will personally drain it back out of you." With a heavy shove and a punch later, Tom woke up and Ethan was gone. What the fuck was he talking about? The Challenge of Champions? He contemplated this over and over in his head, until eventually, he decided to consult the Omeganomicon. Sure enough, there was a chapter on a process of such a name. The Challenge of Champions was another method of gaining mass and alphabetrium from other sources, simply put, the Challenge was a sort of wrestling match, where the winner would attempt to sexually mount the opponent to climax, with whomever left in control of the situation would absorb the alpha energy of the loser. Tom remembered reading and discarding this method for a variety of reasons, for one, the Challenge of Champions, once accepted, can never be discontinued without forfeiture of the mass gained, so at any point if Tom were to become bottom-bitch to anyone, he'd lose ALL his progress. For another, the mass gained was at a much slower ratio. Did Ethan use the Challenge to get to his immense size now? Was that his secret? Who else knew about this book? After contemplation, Tom became worried. It could become problematic if Ethan decided to take Tom's mass... But he couldn't stop now... He just needed a plan for Ethan... But what? Tom arrived to pick up Laura at six and took her to a nice secluded spot on a private cliff to watch the shooting stars in the night-sky. Laura was fascinated by the stars, and the two enjoyed a meaningful exchange about the mysterious origins of the universe neither of them would ever discover. But after a few minutes of cuddling, Tom worked his way from groping her large ass, to kissing her, to kissing her neck, to unfastening her bra, to getting a very nice bj in the light of his car's headlights. It didn't take long for this to graduate to sixty-nining. And soon, Tom's face was covered in the golden essence of heavy muscle-growth, which he nonchalantly rubbed off into a handkerchief. Later that night he assembled everything for the ritual again, and watched with an evil grin as the handkerchief fizzled into nothing. He had the video camera ready for this, he wanted to see this happen over and over again. And sure enough, the powerful feeling returned, but in a powerful enlightening new form. Tom didn't know where he was. It was as if he was looking into a new dimension as every synapse in his brain was overloaded with this power and pleasure. He knew he was in great pain, as his bones were being pulled apart and forced to grow back together as his body expanded more than it had ever done so before. His pectorals ballooned to be jetting well over an inch and a half from the rest of his well defined chest, with powerful shoulders supporting the massive slabs of muscle his arms had become with massive biceps pulsing with his heartbeat as each vein above it stretched his skin. His abs were harder than cement and the v-shaped hips made an impressive arrow dirrectly onto his new 9 inch monster cock. He didn't even know how he was going to fit THAT monster into his pants the next day... Or if any of his pants still fit him! Tom proceeded to carry on about what joy he'd reap from Friday, but unbeknownst to him, there was someone else... Watching him from his window... Thats it for part 4! Friday will be up pretty soon (and boy oh boy is it going to kick things up a notch)! Friday: Tom paced back and forth amidst the early hours of the morning. He was troubled. He only had but a taste of true alpha-levels of mass, and Ethan loomed in the recesses of his mind like a cruel thief willing to drain him dry... He pondered this over and over... Until a though occurred to him: Ethan didn't know what ritual he was juicing from... Ethan thought he was using the Challenge of Champions.... But... That requires one to accept the challenge, which Tom hadn't done... What would happen if Ethan tried to take him, but he didn't accept? He read the Omeganomicon's specifics on this, but from what he could obtain, the Challenge would effectively just act as normal non-consensual sex... Still not preferable to Tom... Then he noticed the dartboard on the edge of his room and an idea sparked into Tom's twisted imagination. He skimmed back through the Omeganomicon and grinned evilly. "That's how I'll do it..." Tom decided to blow off class from now on and spend the entirety of friday in the gym like many of the jocks do. On the off chance something were to go wrong, he at the very least wanted to feel the power of his new body in action. At first he just looked stupid. This massive beast of a man, pissing around with weird exercises using dumbells far too small for him in inefficient ways. This whole room was completely alien to him, but his body craved it. Like a wonderer lost in a desert finding an oasis, Tom wanted to try everything, he wanted that potent feeling of dominance that came from being able to lift these massive weights to pulse through every fiber in his body. He wanted to show the world the mighty machine he'd become. With every push, pull, lift, and rep the sweat from his own body seamed to evaporate into pure pheromone and fuck it was making him horny. The massive package in his pants became more and more noticeable, and he didn't give two fucks who saw it. "Good" he thought. "Gaze upon the titan's gift and worship it." Suddenly, behind him while he was curling a 20lbs bar, a voice spoke out to him: "You can easily curl the same amount of reps with 40lbs on the ends" Startled, Tom turned arround to see .... Her.... Lisa Doing some leg exercises in an outfit that was revealing as fuck, pushed her breasts out, tightened her waist like a hydrolic press, and forced all of her other mass into her gorgeous bouncing ass. She didn't stop, but she stared at Tom dead in his eyes relentlessly as she continued to crush the two panels holding a massive amount of weight together using nothing but her thick thighs that must have been sculpted by the gods themselves. Tom just stared back awkwardly, until he glanced down and found his erection was rock hard, very noticeable, and his arms were still doing curls. When she finished, she walked up to Tom and grabbed him by the boys. "Lets talk in the girls locker-room for a bit ok? Follow me in when that clock says "1:30"" Tom was practically cumming in his pants as he entered the lockroom, and for good reason. Lisa had taken full advantage of the steam room and was stripped naked apart from her scrunched up thin top. "So... Big boy... How are you going to do it?" "Oh, baby I'll figure something out..." Tom said leaning in, only to be met with a seductive finger to his face. "Oh no no no baby. I'm still Mike's queen babydoll. You're not getting any of this today." Tom paused, confused and very-blue-balled. "Ok... So what did you mean by..." "You're really fucking naive aren't you... " She said chucking with an extremely cute little voice causing her chest to jiggle slightly. "I meant how are you going to steal Ethan's body?" Tom was stunned. "I don't know what you mean!" Lisa started rubbing her fingers across herself and bending her body, just ever so slightly, to make every feature she touched burst with divine beauty. "You know why I'm still wearing this top? It's not because I don't want you to see the whole package, I mean you can clearly see that..." She placed her hands around the back of Tom's neck, but swatted his hands away as he tried to do the same. "No... No no.... I wear this top, soaked in sweat and steam, because it makes every inch of my chest look *that* much sexier now that you can't see it directly. Psychologically... You want me more now, and I've shown you just a lil bit less..." She straightened up, turned around and walked towards one of the lockers bouncing her ass like a basketball with each step. "That's one of the tricks you pick up early when you have a reputation as queen bitch." She opened the locker, removed an item, spun around and said, "If you stay on top long enough you get to know about this... " She said holding the Omeganomicon. "Now... Which is more likely Tom? That this hulking mass of a man just moved in, grew easily 40 lbs of pure muscle over 2 days and doesn't even know how to bench press properly? Or some nerd got a hold of a naughty book meant for big boys?" Tom was incoherent, and just mumbled a bit. "Oh yeah baby, all the Alphas know about this book. Its how most of them got to their alpha state in the first place... Tsk Tsk... Working hard for things just isn't really worth it in the end is it?... Thing is, not everyone has the whole book like me, most just have a portion of the wisdom, some, like Ethan, only a few chapters..." "He thinks I'm using the Challenge of Champions..." "Really?" She said perplexed. "So that's what he's had all this time.... See, Ethan and I have been at a practical arms race for domination for years. He and I act buddy-buddy on the surface, for Mike's sake, but deep down, if one of us knew *exactly* which ritual the other was using, we'd whipe the floor with the other and take all the mass they could for themselves. The only thing that's stopped us is that neither me nor Ethan knows the other's method." "So what are you going to do now that you know?" Tom asked. "Nothing. I don't have to. You're going to take care of all the hard work for me aren't you?" "Won't you then just come for me?" Tom said raising an eyebrow. "Mmmm... No I don't think so. I'll go after Mike. If he's not top hulk anymore he's not worth anything to me. I don't even care if he DID obtain all his muscles legitimately without the Book." Tom was surprised by this, and underestimated Mike. "He's just a clueless pawn in my little game. Once he's reached the other side of the table, I'll sacrifice him for a better piece. After all... Once you absorb Ethan, you'll certainly be the big man on campus won't you? And I already know you want some of this baby...." She said slapping Tom's hand on her ass. But then Tom reached to put the other hand on her, and suddenly found his arm twisted and forced onto the ground by Lisa. "Ah ah ah baby, you're not big enough yet." "How are you so strong? I'm easily twice your size!" Tom said from the floor. "I told you. I've been queen bitch for a long time... I've absorbed more mass than anyone else on campus. The *full* book has a variety of ways to "Hide" that kind of size so I can keep my lust for power secret from Mike, he's against using any kind of cheating... Bless him... But if you're currious to exactly how big I am.... " Lisa then stepped back onto the bathroom scale that groaned from under her. Tom couldn't believe his eyes, he knew she was thick and muscle weighed quite a bit, but Lisa was 445lbs and showed NONE of it. She had the abs of a super model, and the power of a body builder. "Ok Tom... That's all I can help you with... Now... Let me give you a little taste of victory..." List ran her tongue over a single vein on Tom's neck, and like a clogged faucet he came a solid bucket full all over the floor (At some point his erection had worked its way down and out the side of his gym shorts) "Sigh... I hope getting some Ethan in you will improve that stamina.... Now get lost, the cheer squad's about to be out. " Lisa said as she stepped into the shower section of the locker room leaving Tom amazed, hypnotized, excited, and.... Wet.... The rest of the day was largely uneventful. Right up until it was time to leave. Ethan finally appeared, and it was clear he'd been serious about this. Hey bitch boy. What the fuck did I tell you about gaining mass that aint yours? "I think I don't take shit from scared little bitches. I got this mass fair and square, you want to challenge for it?" Tom said coldly. Ethan smiled at this. "Oooooh boy... You just fucked up son. 5:00, in the gym. Come alone. "Ill be there, don't lube yourself up though, I'm taking everything you have dry" Tom said as Ethan turned and walked away. Tom arrived at the gym early to check for traps or secret trump cards hidden outside or around the building, but there was none. It was just Ethan, standing in the center of a rolled out wrestling mat, staring at the door waiting for Tom to come in. He came in, and neither said a word, but just stripped naked and stared each other down. Ethan was a pro at wrestling, and Tom knew it. He had to rely on something else to win. Ethan eventually spoke "Do you accept this challenge of champions Tom?" Tom looked at Ethan and said "Yes." In one quick movement, Ethan dove behind Tom, yanked him to the floor, and mounted him from behind: "Say goodbye to you muscles bitchboy..." Ethan said as he began furiously pumping himself into Tom. Tom however had a secret plan, as while Ethan had him in a body lock, he bit into Ethan's arm with the dart hidden inside his mouth (A risky and dangerous move, don't try this at home!) Ethan cried in pain but didn't give up furiously thrusting into Tom. Then, his arms and bones began to hurt all over as a warm feeling developed in Tom's rectum. It was excruciating. Tom curled up into a little ball writhing in pain. Meanwhile, Ethan had climbed atop Tom's fetal possition with all his weight pressing down on his naked body. "You feel that bitch? Fuck, you're the biggest guy I've ever taken. FUCK IM HUGE. Ha! I'll finally be able to force that bitch Mike's alphabetrium away from him, and take that fox Lisa all for myself. Then, when I'm done with her, I'll take all her alphabetrium too! I'll be a god! Women worship me now, but by Monday, they'll establish religions for me! I'll become emperor of this fucking school and farm muscle so I never have to stop being the FUCKING BEAST I AM! Ethan picked Tom's shriveled body up and tossed it into the trashcan as he left the building. Tom lost it all. He was shriveled up and possibly even weaker than before. But after Ethan left the building, Tom climbed out of the trash, and using a dishtowel from home, cleaned up a bit of Ethan's blood off his face, and cum from his ass. Then grinned at it evilly. Tom returned home eager to complete the ritual. He didn't NEED to win the Challenge against Ethan, he only needed his blood and cum for the regular ritual. But first, Tom quickly disavowed all connection he had to the Challenge of Champions, which meant forfeiting all the mass he'd won (which was none), as to keep him from losing his mass to the Challenge afterwards. Midnight came and he tossed in the towel which burned with a brilliant black flame and charged it'self with energy, soon that energy passed to Tom... This was a big one, and it started from the begining.... First he was a twink... Then a jacked twink... Then he was a small athlete... Then he was back to what he was this morning, a jock But now he advanced to the next stage. Absorbing what Ethan had on top of what was already his.... He was an Alpha His biceps expanded even more than before taking the traps with him, as they grew, they crackled with a dark energy leaving black vein-like marks on his arms when he willed them to appear. His pecs were gigantic. Each one an absolute boulder that could stop a truck. They felt heavy, a satisfying heavy. The power in their weight was not something Tom was meant to ever control... Until now... His abs had upgraded to a ten pack, and fused to his ribcage, ripping it out forcefully, leaving only disconnected bone for framework and asthetics. He didn't need a ribcage anymore, his chest was more powerful than the bone ever was. His cock was inhuman. A solid 12 inches when erect, and thick as a pringles can. Tom stared at the goliath in the mirror, he'd done it. He'd become the goliath he always wanted to be. Ethan must be out somewhere scared and confused as a little shriveled up twerp. And Tom was far bigger than mike was at this point. He smiled at this and stared into the mirror with a grin that was no longer an evil grin, it was a king's grin. An emporor's grin. An Alpha's grin. He had Lisa all to himself.... And with her inhuman mass... He could grow another 80 lbs in the last two nights.... End of part 5! ( It's not over yet folks! But how could it get any hotter from here? Stay tuned for the two-day final part: The Weekend !) Finale - Saturday: Tom awoke the next morning as late as he fucking wanted to. He then spent the following hour jerking himself off to his own reflection. He had it. This is everything Tom ever wanted. Power. Control. Respect. He absolutely dominated every visual inch of his bathroom mirror. After a bit he heard noise from the common room. "Huh" he said. Either Jack had returned from his trip early, or there was about to be one very scared bitch ass shitting himself in his kitchen. Tom was pleasantly surprised to find out it was neither. "Morning baby..." Lisa said whipping up a variety of strange concoctions in Tom's kitchen. "...You done exploring yourself? Because mama needs some attention too." "I won Lisa." Was all tom could focus well enough to say. "I see that. And damn. It's hot. You're the biggest man I've ever touched baby." Tom grasped Lisa by her generous assets and pulled her in close where he kissed her passionately. As he ran his lips up and down her powerful neck and lips she wispered things to him: "You earned this baby. This is your prize. You're the king now baby. Claim me." But as Tom tried to remove her top, Lisa stopped him. "Hold on there tiger... You're about to get way out of your league.... Don't worry... I'mma guide you baby. But we gotta do this right..." Mmm... First breakfast. We're going to be going for quite a long time so you'll need the energy. Eggs, Milk, Protein powder, Bacon, and I got you some sardines too they're packed with protein. For desert I've got six apples for you, already sliced. Tom was confused about this but decided to go with it. He needed some time to recharge after he'd just filled his toilet with hot cum. After he was served breakfast, Tom asked "So... How did you get into my house? And how did you know where to go?" "Oh I followed you in after you lost to Ethan. No way I wasn't watching that match like a hawk. You had me worried there for a bit, I thought I was going to have to skip town to avoid that roided monster.... Mike texted me that Ethan was about to either absorb him or kill him right before Ethan shrunk down to the size of a fucking sixth grader. It was apparently hilarious to watch him run away like that." "Oh... You're still talking to Mike?" "Pssh, of course I was baby. I didn't find out how big you'd gotten until I saw you through that window this morning." "You were spying on me? Naughty girl..." "Wana see how naughty I looked doing it?" Lisa said as she left the room only to return in an impossibly fast 9 seconds wearing the most revealing hoodie Tom had ever seen. "How did you change so quickly?" "Oh you'll understand once you get to the Omegaplane." She said. "Whats that?" "Mmmm... Want a taste of it? Take those pants off baby. I need to see all of you. OOh! And lets go outside. Your backyard is gorgeous." Tom did as he was told. Ripping off the pants and walking out onto his patio. "Like what you see baby?" Tom called from outside. Lisa was staring seductively, and had begun to undress, but stopped mid pose to take a nice long stare when Tom revealed his monster cock. "Fuck how am I going to take that thing?" She said "It's so fucking massive... I'm going to drive myself crazy riding that... Oh well. We're starting with a taste anyways." Lisa tore off the rest of her clothes with her mighty strength and seductively moved towards the naked giant in the backyard, slowly revealing more of herself as she approached. "Sit down" She said. And Tom did as he was commanded. "We're going to start with a taste. Just a little crossover. When you're ready... We'll go all the way." "Baby this isn't my first rodeo, I'm ready to go all the..." "If you try to fuck me now your brain will start to reject reality and you'll be driven completely insane, now shut up... Close your eyes... and let mama take care of you.... " This was not like Laura's blowjob, this was something else. As her throat consumed more and more of his dick, Tom could feel small muscle movements from within her throat pulling and pushing his dick like a vacuum cleaner. He started to feel light-headed, Lisa responded with "That's it baby. Let go..." The pressure in his junk began to feel immensely powerful and forced Toms eyes shut. When he opened them again a second later, he noticed something weird about Lisa's hair. It was glowing gold, and the dark area around him appeared to be enveloped in a shimmering light. That's when he noticed the odd patterns and fractal-esque shapes on objects where they weren't before. He was hallucinating. After a few minutes of this, Lisa pulled up, and the precum in her mouth seemed to dance with rainbow colors After a few minutes it wore off and Tom turned to Lisa: "What the fuck was that?" "That was just a taste of the Omegaplane. The Alpha dimension. It's what Alphas experience during sex. Most just experience it for a breif minute, then forget it's divine beauty as they return. But the true Alphas... They can tap into a whole new realm of power over the body, soul, and mind in this world... And bring it back with them. I am a true Alpha, so I've had this ability sense I first lost my virginity to Mike... We explored that world together and taught ourselves what would take monks and scientists eons to master in a few weeks. You've had a taste of it, and you came back coherent... So you're ready to go all the way to it if you'd like. " "I'm ready." Tom said. Lisa smiled, licked her lips, led Tom inside, and climbed on top of her King. A blowjob will trigger a cross to the Omegaplane, but to get there fully, both partners must be engaged in powerful passionate sex. So.... Big boy... It's time. Fuck me. It started out otherworldly. And Tom knew it was only getting better from there. He pounded Lisa's pussy harder than even Lisa was prepared for, but she took it like a champ. After a few minutes, Lisa's hair flashed gold again as Tom was holding her ass cheeks from behind. Suddenly he felt heavy. Really heavy. And as the immense pleasure enveloped his body 1000 fold, he crossed his eyes as he began staring into the ceiling, unable to control any joint in his body as this wave of ethereal enlightenment pulsed through him. Nothing he saw made any sense, but he knew it was good. Everything he saw in his spaced out trippy world was beautiful to him. He watched as two figures that appeared before him fucked wildly. One was a massive muscular beast, the other a busty sensual woman. After a few minutes he realized he felt everything this man felt. After a bit longer, he realized he was looking AT himself, staring down upon his freakishly large body making love to this goddess. He was mesmerized from this, but the image was shattered like a stone being thrown into a pond, by the emergence of Lisa, wearing nothing but a chain crossing her chest, appeared before him. "Hello Tom.." "Lisa? What is this?" "The Omega plane, the enlightened path accessible only to the most powerful among us. It envolops us. It is in tune with the universe arround us. Go ahead. Interact with the world. It is yours to control." Tom was puzzled but decided to look away from the beautiful display as Lisa commanded. As he picked up and threw a pencil, it create a sort of ghost version of the pencil, that landed on the other side of the room while the original laid on the bench still. However, quickly after, real-world-Tom picked Lisa up and began thrusting her against the bench violently. The force of which caused the pencil to land EXACTLY where the ghost outline landed. That's how this world worked he could control all of causality through his astral projection... No... His Alphral Projection. Tom noticed his neighbor was watching from across the street from their bedroom window. "Can't have that can we?" Tom said, and willed himself to move Lisa to the main hall, where a big glass window allowed the neighbor to veiw every inch of what Tom and Lisa were doing to each other. Lisa appeared behind Tom and spoke. "Your interactions here translate perfectly to different forms of sexual experiences between us. Will yourself to look deep into my physical eyes my king... " And Tom did. The world around him grayed and slowed down. Time had almost stopped. He had the freedom to manipulate whatever he wanted. Lisa grabbed Toms hand and led him outside. Tom knew exactly what he and Lisa were still doing to each other, despite not being in the room anymore. "I must show you the extent of our abilities my king... I will bring you to the grand connection." Lisa said snapping her fingers. Suddenly, Materialistic Lisa began to lactate, which Tom drank eagerly and shared with his partner. Like a rocket, etherial Lisa and Tom were shot into a new state of being. Tom found what happened impossible to process, and much MUCH harder to explain. Essentially, Tom had been given a glimpse into the heart of Alphabetrium energy. It connected the will and minds of every Alpha's subcontious mind on the planet. For a brief moment, Tom was god-like. Everywhere and nowhere. All powerful yet powerless. And it brought him to tears. He wept for such beauty was not meant for his eyes. It burned. Such a sight may have blinded his physical body forever if it were here.... And then he descended. Devolving back into his primitive materialistic form. For both he and Lisa had climaxed and the energy link created by their passionate fucking receded. Before long, Tom was staring back up at his ceiling, cradling Lisa in his arms. Tears had been rolling down his face as he stared around the room. It was completely decimated. Tom rolled over and checked his clock. It was 5pm.... It'd been six hours.... Tom got up, got a drink from the kitchen, and stared at his reflection. What had he become? He was a monster. And he loved it. "Rested up baby? Ready for round two?" said a voice from the hallway, Lisa's of course. "Fucking yes. You'd better fucking believe I'm ready." As he began caressing lisa's body in the foyer, he thought for a breif moment about the ritual he needed to perform later... Eventually he thought it through. "Fuck it. I'm large enough. Why would I ever need to get bigger than this?" And shortly after doing all this again, Tom blacked out entirely. Sunday: It was dark. Weirdly dark. Why was it so dark in his room? That was tom's first thought. Then he tried to get up, only to find his wrists and ankles chained to the bed he laid upon. "What the..." Tom said worried. As he did, the chains swiveled upwards forcing him to a standing position with his arms stretched out, and a large floodlight illuminated the area he was in. What was this? Was this some kind of bad dream? In the shadows, a slow clap began. "Well well well... You're finally awake..." Mike said as he stepped out of the shadows. Tom was worried. He didn't like this. What the fuck was Mike going to do to him? "Did you really think it was going to be that easy? A fucking weeks worth of stooping to the easiest challenges you could find, stooping to fucking the nastiest hoe on campus, all so you could pass ME? A man who's never even used the book before? Oh no... No Tom... I'm afraid it's never that easy... But you've Inspired me. Maybe I've been a bit too harsh on myself... I think I'm finally ready to use the book's powers for myself." "It's about damn time baby" Said a second voice from the shadows. It was lisa. "Lisa? What... What are you doing?" Tom panickly asked. "Using you. To get what I want. What we want." She said, coldly. Tom was agasp. He'd shared enlightenment with this queen of sex not the day before.... And she... She was just using him... "We've been using you from the beginning champ..." Said Mike. "Gotta say. Love what you did to that cocky asshole Ethan. I was getting so sick of his smug bitch ass. I should have taken him out sooner, but I guess aged alphabetrium is the purest form of aquiring alphabetrium. I should do this again with him instead of you all over again... Oh and pro tip kid, a true alpha NEVER turns down the desire to get bigger. EVER. You can take it slow like me, or try to rush it like ethan, but don't ever even THINK that what you have is "Good enough".... What a fucking pathetic thought..." "What are you going to do to me?" Tom said. "Not much actually. Nothing you didn't already do to yourself. Recognize that triangle at your feet kid?" Mike said. It was the tentragram of his own ritual. "I knew you'd go for this ritual, the 7 days one, because you're a little beta bitch who doesn't like to take risks. Truth be told there's lots of these spells in this book... But that's kinda the point isn't it. See... There is no magic book willing to help betas become Alphas, never has been. See... This book is cursed knowledge. There's a reason every ritual comes with tiny little strings attached. Thats why I never used it. Lisa over there used it to its full potential... But now she's a slave to it, she's forever doomed to be the top bitch no mater what the cost. She'll spend hours of her free time exercising, disciplining her muscles to be able to achieve the Omega connection, failing to resist a powerful sexual desire to the strongest man nearby and taking risks to maintain her god-like physique. In fact, she's how I learned about the secret use of the book... " Ethan paused and smiled evilly at Tom. "While the user will always end up getting their comeuppance some way or another, there are often times outside recipients, call them lucky bystanders, who just *happen* to receive all the benefits of the ritual, without being tied to its curse.... I think you experienced this first hand when you stole all that delicious mass from Ethan.... And if someone were to limit the options of the book to only show rituals with these anonymous beneficiaries... Well... Who could blame them for that?" Tom didn't know what was coming. What did he not know that was about to ruin everything? "Now, your case was actually rediculously easy... See it all started with *This..." Mike tossed the Omeganomicon in front of Tom where the page in front of him read " -Rule 3: The transformee must attract the mating catalyst on their own, otherwise the effects of the omeganomicon will transfer to the true alpha upon discovery of wing-manidry. " "But I didn't use anyone's help for me to attract any of those bitches!" Tom pleaded. Mike turned towards Lisa and whispered "You ready baby" to which she nodded as she began filming the scene on a tripod camera. Mike then turned towards Tom, approached the behemoth, and showed him his phone. From within it was a conversation.... A conversation with Grenda. Tom froze and a chill ran down his enormous spine as he read it. "That's right Tom...Remember when Grenda turned you down? .... I asked Grenda to go through with it in exchange for a prom picture.... Pssh. She's never getting that...." "I guess that'd make me... Your wingman of sorts wouldn't it?" The book began to burn bright as a dark red light shimmered around Tom and Mike. "Oh and lets not forget, the only reason you got in on that action with Stacy and Laura was because of the mass you obtained... From Grenda. And to top it off, the only reason Ethan challenged you, was because of what you obtained from the three of them... Or to put it another way.... All of your mass, power, and alphabetrium you've gained sense tuesday... Is rightfully mine! Now... HAND IT OVER!" In a flash the pages of the book began to suck the alphabetrium straight out of Tom, shriveling him up from the Alpha tank he was to the twink he was the first day. He lost so much size he fell right out of his shackles. Mike grinned as he was beginning to feel a powerful rush surge through him. He was already amateur bodybuilder size... So what he grew into frightened Tom just as much as it turned Lisa and Mike on. Yes.... YES! YES! FUCK YES! I'm a giant.... I'm a fucking giant! Lisa began to touch herself behind tom, crushing him under her foot. "Oh, and here's the best part baby...." Lisa said as she began to speak to the ritual... Tom knew the phrase well, as he'd contemplated using it on Ethan, but never had the balls to do it... He was frightened before, but now he was terrified. He was going to be absorbed entirely. His whole body, and his essence as a person... Were about to become one with Mike.... In a flash Tom's frail body burned into nothing, and his conscientiousness fell into the spiritual state he had experienced with Lisa. It was much like it was before, but instead of having his own body, Tom was chained to Mike like a dog... No... Like a slave.... And no matter what he did, even if he closed his spiritual eyes... He was forced to gaze upon the muscular teenage god whom was about to tripple all the mass he'd just received. Tom began to speak lower and lower... "I am a king... A KING OF KINGS! A FUCKING POWERHOUSE. A MYTHICAL BEAST OF LEGEND! I. AM. YOUR. GOD! Tom gazed upon his new master, his arms had the circumference of beachballs. He had a new line of muscle connecting his biceps, triceps, and various other power-houses along his limb. His ass had filled out to take up and entire couch. Each leg powerful enough to push a deep-rooted tree right out of the ground. He now boasted an amazing abdominal region. An elite 10-pack of abs hard enough to stop bullets without breaking skin. And his pectorals were enormous. Jetting at least 7 inches away from his chest at any time, these massive slabs of pure muscle had become so strong they each took on the possition of a second and third heart, necessary for Mike to have to extend his new monster cock. I don't know exactly how massive it was, but you'd need a yard stick to measure it, not a ruler. This hulking mass It was too much for Lisa to bare, as she violently ripped off her clothes and began riding the huge mass, screaming in pain as she took the entirety of the dick to her base. Soon they both arrived on the omegaplane alongside each other to face what was left of Tom. Lisa was now wearing a thin bikini of blue aura. And mike was bare-chested with a pair of sports compression shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. Get comfortable Tommy boy. You're going to get a birds eye view of this from now on. "In a way we've helped you. Now you've become part of something truely greater than yourself." "Yeah, me." Tom would spend the rest of his days forever tied to this goliath as Mike would continue his escapade into the powers of alphabetrium, growing past even what he is now, to ascending to new levels of thought and power. Every day, he'd fuck Lisa til she bled, but she loved the pain. It made her feel like the power hungry tryrant she was. But what now? Tom's story is over, but there's still more for me to work with here. Please go ahead and vote for the storyline you think I should pursue next! The origin of the Omeganomicon amidst the dark ages? A day in the life of Lisa after this as she now needs to become even stronger to please her man? Or maybe Jack will find something interesting in the wreaked apartment once he gets back? VOTE NOW and PLEASE leave any suggestions or comments bellow! I get off on criticism and praise alike!
  3. musclegin30

    Corona Tales: An Anthology

    Like many of you, I'm social distancing, and had a little time to write. This Coronavirus pandemic inspired me to write a series of short stories, each with muscle-obsessed characters having a little fun (or maybe not, in the case of one), while the pandemic rages in the larger world around them. There are 5 stories that all take place in the same un-named New York neighborhood. Growth: Scott and James are two friends, bored out of their minds while in isolation. When they decide to workout to pass the time, James reveals a new supplement that promises miraculous results. Sex: Seamus is Gay and obsessed with his huge alpha-male friend, Jamie. The only problem: Jamie is straight. But luckily for Seamus, Jamie's girlfriend, Carmen, has a surprise request for both of them. Theft: Nick is young, buff, and hot. His life couldn't get any better. But it could get worst. Does the sexy MILF, Grace, want to fuck him or does she want something else. Strength: Nathan is a skinny, lazy teen, stuck at home with his annoying kid sister. Suddenly, life get's interesting when he sees the size of his neighbor's two friends, and the things they can do. Domination: Little Wayne is a slave to his demanding 330-lb boyfriend, Connor, whom he calls master. Master wants to have some fun! Read all the stories or only the one that piques your interest the choice is yours. These are: "Corona Tales" Growth “What the fuck are we gonna do, Scott?” James said. “Nothing’s open except the grocery store and they’re pretty much empty.” “We have Netflix,” I said. James let out a grunt of disapproval. “This is a boredom not even Netflix can solve. I can’t believe we have 2 weeks of this shit. No movie theaters. No clubs. No parades, concerts, restaurants!” He grabbed his hair and pulled dramatically, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion. I shook my head and smiled sympathetically. The governor had shut down the state due to a viral pandemic that was sweeping the globe. With 20,000 reported cases and 1500 deaths in New York alone it was too little too late, but oh well. Honestly, I didn’t mind being shut in. I was a homebody anyway. My roommate, James, however had to be out doing something. He liked to be around people. I just liked being around him. To put it plainly: James was hot, a total package. While my looks were average, he was an 11 out of 10. It was really no wonder that he enjoyed being around people. Wherever he went he was the center of attention, like a great celestial body pulling everything around him into his gravitational field. James had dark hair, ‘styled’ messy and olive skin that belied his Mediterranean roots. His jaw was square and peppered with a five-o clock shadow and his eyes were honey brown. And don’t get me started on his body, a sight I was blessed to see on several occasions. He liked to work out. and it showed in how he filled out a shirt, bulging in all the right places. I worked out as well so I looked fit, but James had the genetics of a top-level physique competitor. He’d rival any pro if only he were bigger. Now that was a thought. If only he were bigger. My eyes wondered over his body as he sat their staring blankly at the TV. If only he were bigger… Let me stop and tell you I’m not gay. You may think I am, with the way I’m obsessing over James right now, but trust me I’m bisexual. I actually lean towards woman more often than not, but James could make even a straight man question himself. “Hello. Earth to Scott. What are you staring at?” James asked. I blinked. I was imagining you growing, every muscle on you swelling with size and power until your clothes couldn’t take it anymore and they burst at the seams. Your swelling form set free from the prison of those confining threads to expand ever outward with lean, hard, striated, veiny muscle. Your body growing so large it would never ever again be contained by clothes, not only because no clothes would fit you, but because it would be a disservice to mankind to cover you god-like magnificence with clothing ever again. “Nothing dude. I just spaced out for a minute,” I said. Then I had an idea. The apartment had a gym in the basement. It was pretty well stocked, for an apartment gym, and always empty. Maybe I could get him to develop a pump and that would satisfy my desire to see him grow. My cock grew stiff at the thought. “I know what we can do.” I said, smiling. “Let’s go down to the gym and do a full body workout.” James stared at me, tilting his beautiful head, obviously considering it deeply. He shrugged his shoulders and said “Fuck it. It’s better than sitting around doing nothing.” “Great!” “There’s a new supplement I just got that I’ve been meaning to try anyway,” James said. “New supplement?” I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah,” He pushed himself up and darted into his room. He returned with a small grey container in hand, and passed it to me. “Superpump,” I read aloud. The rest of it was in a foreign language. “What language is this.” “Not really sure. Maybe Russian or some other language in that family. I think it’s Russian, though, because it was that huge ass Russian guy at our gym that told me about it one day. You know who I’m talking about?” I nodded, my eyes still fixed on the container. There was a picture of a grotesquely sexy muscle man on the label, who had to be photoshopped because h looked bigger than Greg Golias. “The dude said this stuff works like magic. One scoop in a shake before working out and you’ll be amazed. Those were his exact words. You’ll be amazed. I whipped my phone out and ordered right on the spot.” “Cool.” I nodded. “Let’s see if it works.” The Russian guy James was talking about was the largest man I had ever seen outside of the Olympia. His arms had to be over 25 inches. And the dude seemed to grow consistently all year without ever putting on fat. We changed into out workout clothes: tanks, sweatpants, and sneakers. James mixed up a protein shake and added one heaping scoop of the Superpump. He poured a little into a glass for me, but he drank the lion’s share of it straight from the blender. The stuff didn’t taste bad. “Ready to get pumped!” I exclaimed, psyching him up. “Fuck yeah!” He slapped his hands down on my shoulders. “Let’s go!” We grabbed a couple of water bottles and James did a most muscular pose before we headed out the door. The second he turned around I adjusted my swelling cock. This was going to be an awkward workout. It’s so difficult to hide a hardon in sweats. We found the gym empty, as expected. After a quick stretch and a warmup with light weights, we got straight to work. James grabbed two 60 lb. dumb-bells, sat on a weight bench and began pumping out rep after rep of shoulder presses. I was doing standing curls with 40 lbs. in each hand, while stealing glances at James. The cords of muscle in his arms rippled beneath the skin, contracting with each rep. His arms were a thing of beauty. Each muscle group was clearly defined, from the upside-down teardrops that formed his delts, to the croissant-like triceps. He let out guttural grunts on his final reps as he strained to finish his set. I always loved how hard he pushed himself when working out. “Yah!” He called out in pain and satisfaction as his arms fell to his sides and he dropped the weights to the mat. He leaned forward, shoulders pumped and glistening with sebum and sweat. I put my dumb-bells back on the rack, and felt the telltale tightness of a pump in my own arms. “Feels good doesn’t it?” James asked, between breaths. “What?” “Getting a pump.” “Yeah, man. It does.” I flexed my biceps, knowing that he would do the same. James bought his arms up into a double bicep pose, forming two perfect peaks wrapped in a near symmetrical network of blue veins. He was so symmetrical it was like an artist had painted half of him and while the paint was still wet, folded the paper in two, to form the other half. “I don’t know why you don’t compete,” I said. “I’m not big enough for that.” I impulsively reached out and squeezed his bicep. A quick, playful squeeze between bros. Just long enough to feel it hardness in my hand. “You’re big enough for a local show,” I said. Though I agree, you should be bigger. “I’ll think about it.” He grinned. “Who knows, if this Superpump works as good as the Russian says I might just do it.” We continued our workout, moving from exercise to exercising with no real order, just having fun and passing time. Throughout the workout James’ pump went from the normal to the insane. Every muscle was swollen. I had developed a pump as well, but nothing like what I was witnessing on James. I was doing lateral raises while James was laying on the bench doing dumb-bell presses with 100 lbs. in each hand. As I watched the mounds of meat that were his pecs contract It seemed the cleavage between them was growing deeper with each rep. The slabs of muscle widened as well, right before my eyes, pushing his nipples out from behind the straps of his tank. Impossible. This was no ordinary pump. Looking down at my own body, I could see changes as well. I looked a little bigger here and there, but James was flat out inflating. He seemed oblivious to it. It had to be the Superpump. James had taken more of it than I did, so he was getting a greater effect. Combine that with his superior muscle building genetics and… James let the weight fall and sat up on the bench. “God! This fucking pump is unbelievable! And I feel like I could lift all night!” My cock sprung to attention. It was the fasted boner I had ever had, going from flaccid to turgid in the time it took James to utter his sentence. I quickly adjusted it, hoping he hadn’t seen the pitched tent in my sweats. “You know, I’m not sure that’s a normal pump.” “What do you mean?” James looked at me expectantly. “I think that Superpump is making you physically grow.” “Get the fuck outta here.” He laughed. “You can’t physically grow more mass by a noticeable amount in less than an hour. There’s laws of physics and shit.” “Didn’t the Russian say it worked like magic?” “Figure of speech,” James said, dismissively. “How much did you weigh this morning?” “190.” He said. “There’s a scale over there. Weigh yourself.” He stared blankly at me, then shook his head. “Ok, just to prove you wrong.” He rose, and I could see his cobra back was pushing his arms away from his side. He stepped on the scale and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “210!” “210!” I repeated. “A full 20 pounds more.” “No way!” He hopped off the scale and began looking himself over in the mirror, flexing, poking, and rubbing. Then he peeled off his sweat soaked tank, revealing the divine sight of his brick-like abs. “Fuuck!” I said aloud. My hardon was painful, stretched to its limits, rising above my waistband onto my stomach. “Fuck is right, dude. The Russian said that stuff was like magic and he wasn’t lying. This is incredible.” James was clearly infatuated with his own body. He nipples had swollen, looking like hard little pacifiers, pushed downward by the bulk of his pecs. A bulge was growing in his sweats, snaking down his left thigh, thick as a toilet paper tube. God! Everything about him was perfect! Then a though struck me. “James, It’s obviously the working out that’s activating the Superpump. So how about we keep going and see just how big you can get?” “I like the way you think, man.” And so, James continued lifting, more and more reps with more and more weights, until he had maxed out every machine and lifted the heaviest dumb-bells. Several times I caught myself absentmindedly stroking my raging hardon through my sweats, but James was so focused on his own growth that he never seemed to notice. After an hour of intense pumping James’ body was nearly unrecognizable. Just mounds upon mounds of striated veiny muscle fighting for space on his frame. His legs had grown so large his sweats now looked like legging stretched tight across his shelf-like glutes and quads like loafs of bread pressed together. The growth had stopped and I suggested he weigh himself. He was all too eager. He swaggered over to the scale and stepped on it. 260 lbs. of solid beef. I nearly fainted. James began flexing, smiling widely as I looked him over. The finest specimen of a man I had ever laid eyes upon. “Well come on dude and have a feel,” James said. “And not like you grabbed my bicep before. Really feel me up. I know you want to.” “Whaa?” I temporarily lost the ability to speak. “I’ve got two working eyes you know. You’ve been eyeing my muscles, practically salivating, for the longest time, even before we got down here. And that hardon! Dude, you know if they last this long your supposed to call a doctor.” He laughed. I blushed. “Are you asking me to worship your muscles?” “It’s what you want isn’t it?” Jason grabbed his sweats and with one quick yank pulled them off revealing his stunning legs. He tossed the torn fabric aside. “It’s alright.” I placed a hand on each pec. He bounced them. The vibration of those thick slabs of meat was enough to send waves of pleasure through me. The size. The power. It was all so much and it was all in my grasp. My fantasy had come to life by way of some magic. As the world outside descended into chaos my world in here was perfect. My hands wandered to the mounds of his shoulders and squeezed the hard muscle. “I’m so fucking horny,” James said. “Suck my nipples.” I did, taking his tender nipples into my mouth, tasting his salty skin, caressing his pecs with my tongue. He moaned in pleasure. His strong arms enveloped me. “We’ve got two weeks of quarantine,” James said. “Just you and me and the rest of that container of Superpump. I think I finally know what we’re gonna be doing.”
  4. Omeganomicon

    The Gamma

    This story is a continuation of my last story "Week of the Omeganomicon" which follows the story of Tom. If at any point you become confused about this I suggest taking a look through that one here: The Gamma Jack pulled into the driveway exhausted and angry. For three years he'd been hunting for the secrets of alphabetrium, and alas his final clue as to their whereabouts which brought him all the way to the amazon jungle, had fallen up short. With no where left to turn, he returned to his highschool career, annoyed. "At age 20 I'm old enough to start up my own business, but am still forced to pursue yet another year at high-school no less..." Grabbing the essentials he entered the apartment and flipped on the light.... What in the fuck? Is all Jack could muster... The entire apartment was decimated as if some beast had torn through the walls and furniture. What in the hell happened here? What the FUCK Tom? What did you do? But after storming around he couldn't find him. Anywhere. He called the police and began searching through the rubble for anything that might be of worth. That's when he saw it. Virtually unscathed by the event was this book. Jack knew it well. The Omeganomicon, created by the last great Omega as a torture method for Betas and a secret siphon to amass great power if you were clever enough to manipulate someone into sacrificing a part of themselves for you. I'd seen five of these before, some much thicker than this one, so I know it was already missing information and on any account would be worthless to me, I don't see the need to sacrifice anyone to cheese my way back into alpha-dom. No, what was Tom doing with that book? Is it possible? Jack began slamming his head into the wall debris repeatedly." IDIOT!" he yelled at himself, I TRAVEL ACROSS THE WORLD TO FIND A CROSSOVER TECHNIQUE, and ONE JUST SO HAPPENS TO DESTROY MY APARTMENT WHEN I LEAVE IT?! It was then that he saw something shiny.... It was a camera with a recording of everything that happened... Including Tom's transformation from friday night. As well as the intense event with lisa from school. (She had stopped in front of the camera to pose for it) Hmm.... Lisa huh? ... Wait... Thats when he got to evening on saturday, and saw Mike and Lisa dragging Tom's immense body out. But... But why would they... Then the final scene began to roll, as the camera fell under some debris, where it had perfect view of a different camera, same type and style, set up in Tom's room, and on sunday morning, Lisa came and retrieved the other camera. Jack thought it through, Lisa had retrieved the wrong camera, thinking there to only be one, unaware of the camera Tom had set up to record himself which she took in place of her own. Why would she need to ... wait.... it can't be... He rewound the video to Saturday during the bit with the blowjob on the patio and watched it. Of course... The Omegaplane.... He couldn't believe it! His luck! He got to view the ritual right in front of him. That's why she came back for the camera.... Well that's one reason, I'm sure evidence of what destroyed this house and who Tom was with before his disappearance is also motivation enough for her, but the sexual dance of which she uses to reach the Omegaplane.... That is sacred. It is only meant to be passed down from Master to Apprentice. Tom stared at Lisa, this was his ticket, and she'd led him straight towards him, soon, he'd turn everything about his life around. The story of Jack's life was quite bizarre. At the young age of thirteen, jack was the newest son of a powerful Alpha family. He was soon to be taught the secret arts of Alphabetrium, but first he had to be tested to see if he were a jock at all first, and not just a beta, completely secretly. For his final test, he was to seduce his prom date into any form of sexual act. He got her all the way to bed, but despite this, he did not want to go through with the act, saying he just wasn't really all that into sex. Jack is what we call a Gamma, where an Alpha is typically a straightforward system, there do exists weird outliers called Gammas. They possess the mindset of an alpha, but despite being completely functional, simply are not interested in sex. Sex, of course, is considered the most sacred act one can perform to an alpha, and thus those whom reject that are outcast-ed. Jack was shunned by his parents and sent to prep school to never see them again for seven years. Prep school was cruel, restricting meals to simple carb diets, with very little protein intake. Despite working his hardest for five years, Jack just became starved as despite his effort, only maintained an average body. However, there were factors beyond the school's control. Deep down, Jack was still an alpha, and while he had no desire to massage his cock, he had a relentless thirst for power. Raw power, influence, magic, science, information, control, worth, he yearned for it. And after just five years, managed to use the profits of selling off his self-made online business to transfer to this school and live a life of his own control. From here he began his own department of Alphaology at the highschool, he researched a variety of strange artifacts he'd heard his father discuss with his mother during their sexual sessions and learned all about the secret link between Alphas known as the Alphaplane. All he needed now was a means of visiting the plane so he can use it. This however, was a problem. The only way to cross into the Alphaplane is for two alphas to have sex. The thought of inquiring power aroused jack plenty, but finding a partner was much harder. Alphas don't worry about finding new partners as they naturally attract each other, but if your sexual compass is shattered, it's much harder to pinpoint who has the skill necessary to cross over. He'd even spent 30,000$ on a trip to the amazon to meet a retired alpha priestess who as it turned out couldn't help him. How was he going to find her? And even if he could, how would he convince her to let him in? He stared at the camera, and grinned evilly. Two days later Lisa was enjoying a nice day at the gym when a voice spoke to her directly. "Hello Lisa". "Do I know you loser?" Lisa replied. "Ouch... Harsh, and no I don't think you do. I'm Jack." "Look I'm pretty busy and I'd appreciate it if you'd fuck off Jack." She rolled her eyes as she continued her exercises. "Cute, most just tell me to Jack-off, I think they like the word play, but I'm afraid you're going to want to pay attention to this one. It's about Tom." Lisa froze. Her hands ran over her far-too-tiny bikini only to realize her phone was in her bag. "Oh, I'm afraid you won't be calling to help Lisa. See, I'm Tom's Roomate, and you'll have to understand there was a BIG concern for me when I got home a couple of days ago. And look, don't worry, I've already cleaned up the mess. Tom was a fucking douche anyways, and I really don't care what you did with him or who's reaping the reward. What you should be more concerned about is this. " Jack held up her camera and tossed it to her. "Amazing coincidence, Tom just so happened to have the exact same tape recorder set up in his room as you did in the living room, I guess when you went back to get this you accidentally grabbed his instead, see it's interesting. This tape shows you almost entrancing Tom when you first start to suck him on the patio, see those odd motions you make with your hips and throat, and I just so happen to know these acts are sacred to an alpha priestess... God knows the punishment for this getting out would mean exile... " Lisa was frozen. She could feel it. Jack was legit. And she was in no position to not follow his demands. "What do you want?" Jack pointed at the video, "THAT, I want to experience that. I want you to help me cross over into the Alphaplane, I need to see it. All you need to do is fuck me once, you can come over later today, and let me see the power of dominance in it's rawest form." "You're blackmailing me into sex?" Lisa accused. "Call it what you like, just know I have three secret associates somewhere else in the world, If I can't respond to each of them tomorrow, a copy of this video will go viral, and we both know what happens to both of us if that happens....Better if this just never gets out" "You're pathetic. But sure, I'll stop by after my jog, like you said, better if this just never gets out." Later that day Lisa arrived at the location Jack designated, inside a few associates lead her down an elevator into some kind of laboratory. "What are we doing here?" "What can I say, I have my fetishes. Now... how about we get started with this..." Jack said as he led Lisa into the chamber. "It won't work..." "Hmm?" "It only works for alphas, you need a specific mindset, and powerful enough body to cross over." Lisa said raising an eyebrow to Jack's strong, but not alphetic body. "Not big enough for you babe? Fine." Jack walked over to an intercom and ordered "Project 22" be brought to him. "The effects of this technology are temporary, and won't last for more than a day before causing a series of nasty side effects for several months due to my body's inability to produce alpha energy. But I don't think that will be a problem anymore..." Jack said this as he stabbed himself with a golden syringe into his left ass cheek and began to strip. That's condensed alphabetrium there, it's an artifact I found years ago, it's incredibly condensed in crystalized form, but it will eventually fizzle out of existence once my body absorbs it long enough. Lisa suddenly became more and more turned on as she watched Jack slowly hulk out into the size Ethan used to be. "Hows this?" Lisa just rolled her eyes and went to work. Pretty soon her hair turned golden and the two began to hallucinate vividly. Pretty soon Jack found himself staring down at his own roided out body pounding Lisa like a toy. "This good enough for you?" she asked. "Perhaps for a while, I want to explore this reality as much as I can before we finish." Jack spent hours in the slowed space making record and jotting down notes about different observations on what he could do before finally talking to Lisa. "Alright, I've understood enough, there's just one more thing I'd like to see. The connection." Lisa backed away. "You can't possibly know about that..." Jack just stared at her before rolling his eyes. "Whatever, don't help, I know how to get there myself". Jack grabbed a syringe from the drawer and stuck it into Lisa's breasts forcing them to lactate which he greedily lapped up. Lisa could only watch in horror and protest as Jacks mind ascended into the Plane. He stood there frozen for minutes as the sounds of his physical form became more and more powerful and loud. Finally, she became relaxed as he returned normally. Jack then declared that that was enough and pushed a button on the wall, which after a few minutes brought in associates to separate the two from having sex. As they returned to their physical bodies, Jack reviewed the data his men had just brought him, then smiled, and turned towards Lisa. "Consider your video erased for good, your help has been invaluable, and this data is supurb is there anything else you'd need?" Lisa was confused. "What data?" "Oh did no one tell her? This whole room is lined with state-of the art motion detection which record and analyzes every small movement in this room. If your eyelash twitched, this room knows it's exact coordinates." "What are you going to do with that information?" Lisa said worriedly. "Do? I think you mean "DID" baby." He then pressed a button on the wall revealing a chamber within. "Meet Ellie, she's your replacement. Any time we need more data or tests to run, we can get there with just her." Lisa had never seen this girl before, but soon realized why, Ellie was a machine. "She's learned everything you did inside and out and can replicate it at whim." Lisa was then lead outside the room before snapping back, knocking two guards unconscious and grabbing Jack by his neck. "You know... I haven't cleared your blackmail yet..." Jack said grinning evilly. Lisa glared, quickly dressed herself, and took a nice long stare back at the Ellie device. Once she'd left, Jack called a meeting with his second in command, Conner. "How well did that turn out?" "Wonderful sir! In a matter of weeks we'll have what you want prototyped." "Good, the pain the artifact caused me will torture me for days as I revert back from this form." "Sir.... If you don't mind me asking, what is the goal of this? It seems like a lot of work for this "Connection", what does it do?" Jack smiled. "Well on top of being a wondrous scientific advancement, I believe I can harness the power of the Connection and absorb the combined knowledge, alpha-energy, and will of the combined mindset of the alphaplane." He knelt down to Connor and whispered to him secretively "This power will allow me to transcend this world and become the most powerful being known to man." before laughing hardily as he walked away. End of Part 1/5, stay tuned for the continuation! Part 2/5 : Roy This is Roy. Roy is neither Alpha nor Beta, nor a subset of either. Rather Roy is something else. Roy..... Is a complete jackass. Raised as an entitled, racist douchebag, Roy sought after every possible shortcut and easy path available to him. At age fifteen Roy was intimidated by his fellow classmates, particularly those on the football team, so he began using Steroids. The results were to be expected, Roy became the king (in his mind) of the Weight Training course and regularly enjoyed mercilessly beating the shit out of other students during P.E. That is until he turned 18 and his regular dealer was caught by the Police. Roy became stranded with no juice, and on top of the adverse physical effects of just using steroids, his new dealer was a shifty con man who began lacing his Roids with other addictive substances. Nicotine was just the start, by age 20, Roy had given up on his physical shape as had become a full on meth-head. He was perfect for the experiment. Jack dispatched Connor to retrieve the meth head in the files and brought him in. "Hello Roy, my name is Jack, welcome to our experimental trial." "What the FUCK am I doing here ASSHOLE?" Roy said spitting a clump of snot from his throat onto the floor. "Connor did you not explain this to him?" Jack queried. "Of course I did, he's forgotten sense I told him." "Well, Mr. Roy, I'm a scientist and I believe I've found a fantastic new body enhancement treatment utilizing a unique set of proteins and compounds I believe I can instill a normal person with superhuman strength and possibly even eternal youth." Roy explained. "I AIN'T INTERESTED IN NO FANCY SUPER MAN DRUGS!" Roy screamed. Connor piped in with "Really? Well that's a shame. You seemed much more keen on the event when I told you the base component is methamphetamine" Roy's eyes lit up. "Woah woah woah, now you're speaking my language!" The next day the trial began Connor strapped Roy into the chair and began explaining the expriament to him. "The process involves four parts, the first is cleansing, we need to remove all toxins and outside influences from your body. But don't worry, these IV drips will introduce our own chemicals into you to keep you from experiencing withdraw." "Alright... Then what?"' "Stage two is called incubation, you'll be kept in a chamber for a few hours, maybe a day or two, and left to your own devices with what you'd like to see come out of this experiment. You will be unstable however during this process, which is why it's essential that you can't leave, but we will bring you anything you'd like." "And after that?" "Once you've reached our goals, we'll begin a process called stabilization. The effects of the drugs will subside so the body can begin to support the changes naturally. You'll be unconscious for this period." "Now hold on you said four parts..." "Ah, yes, the final part is called "Advertising", you may not realize this but in order for this program to gain traction we'll need you to flaunt your new body constantly for a few weeks, if it's successful." With that Connor finished up and exited the chamber, rejoining Jack from behind a one-way mirror. Over the course of the next week, Roy began cleansing his body of the various toxins piling up within it. This had little to no effect on his mindset, but due to his muscular enhancement appearing and the adverse effects of the steroids and meth on his body had begun to subside, he became even more of an asshole. GEEEEEERRRRR! LOOK AT ME!" Roy yelled at the mirror as he slammed his hand against the mirror again. "I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING BODY BUILDER!" He ripped off his underpants (again) and began furiously jacking off his now 5 inch dick. "GOD! LOOK AT MY DICK! IT'S HUGE! I COULD FUCK A THOUSAND WOMEN WITH THIS SAUSAGE!" Connor chimed in from the hall: "Well I'm glad you think that way Roy, because today we begin stage two of the trial. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your new habitat for the next few days." Roy was lead down the hall into an out of place room It was pretty much a gymnasium, comprised entirely of weights, with a large bed, much larger than a king size, in the far corner. "Feel free to use any of the equipment here to test your newfound strength at any interval you'd prefer." Connor explained. "Nice, move bitch" Roy said as he shoved past Connor to load a pair of 45s onto the bench, Connor watched as even with his newfound mass, he was only able to do but a handful of reps at a mere 190lbs. "If there's anything else you'd need just push this button and ask the monitor, we'll provide it if we can. Understand?" Connor explained as he lead Roy over to what looked like a blood-pressure reader. "This device is called a blood-reader, it's VITAL once the trial begins for you to probe your blood using this machine. It's how we'll get compounds into you, and without the right substances, you may go into cardiac arrest." "Huh?" "sigh.... Wrap this cord around your wrist when the green light appears to get your drugs, without your drugs, your heart will stop." Connor put it bluntly. Roy rolled his eyes and said "Sure, got it." Connor for a brief moment considered the ethical reasoning behind what he was doing, but then ignored it and injected Roy with the priming fluid before returning to the observation room to meet Jack. Over the next few hours, Roy's mass began to increase like he was slowly being inflated with muscle. Pretty soon he realized he could speed up the process by actually exercising instead of drooling over himself in the mirror. As the final refinement of his abdominals and shoulders began to round out and his dick reached a length long enough for his own fist to wrap around it, Roy had begun to convince himself that he was a god to be worshiped and began making rediculous requests to the monitor. "I'd like my own city! Call it Roy-YORK! I want a damn statue on every street corner dedicated to my body!" and other things of the sort which I will not cover as they get unneededly offensive. Then eventually he made a new request. "BITCHES! YO JACK-OFF! HOW ABOUT YOU SEND SOME BITCHES TO MY CRIB! I got a dick like an Airplane and it needs to TAKE OFF!" Roy demanded as he tossed another weight at the wall. Jack turned to Connor and shrugged "Guess it's time, send in Ellie" Roy was awoken from a nap shortly after to the sounds of a few small weights hitting the ground. On the other side of the gym was an Ellie droid. Roy would have no idea this sensual woman wasn't a real person. And he really didn't care either. He was far too mesmerized by her large sweaty breasts and tight bouncy ass. He approached the "woman" cocky as ever. "Whatup slut? I guess my boi Jack sent me your fine ass to keep me company. Why don't I slip into something more comfortable?" Roy said. This confused Ellie for a moment as Roy was already bare-naked (as he began spending all his time). However it was clear that what he meant was "why don't I slip you out of your clothes" as Roy violently ripped her tight gym pants right off her legs. Ellie did not have a sense of purpose outside of pleasing her host, so she didn't object. And soon she was being pounded ruthlessly against every piece of equipment available. Eventually Roy lead Ellie back to the bed. From the other side of the mirror, Connor activated the connection process. However, as Ellie began the complex and sensual process to bring Roy over, Roy only experienced a violent rush of pleasure. He wasn't connecting to the Alpha-plane like before. "Of course he won't make it today, he's not a full-on alpha yet. But just the experiment alone should stimulate the drug within him. By this time tomorrow, he'll be an absolute titan." Jack explained to Connor. After the experience,Ellie, with little to no battery left, went into charging mode (which to Roy appeared to be just her leaving) Deep within that sleep however was a display that for the first time in his life, gave Jack a proper erection. He grew astronomically fast, even better than the predictions. After an hour: After three hours: After six hours: (At this point he had achieved Alpha-dom) After nine hours: The processes slowed and stopped after about 12 hours, with Roy's end result an absolute monster: Connor chimed in over the intercom: "Well, what do you think?" Roy said nothing as he stared deeply into the mirror, running his hands all over his massive shoulders, the size of watermelons, pectorals which felt like stone slabs, and his favorite part, a massive fourteen inch long monster of a cock. "Roy? Roy you can hear me right?" Connor asked. Roy walked over to the monitor and pushed the button "I believe I asked for BITCHES." Roy asked "I'm sorry?" Connor replied. "Bitches. Plural. More than one. At least three. Send in some of your own pussies too, I need worshipers to watch me while I dominate more of these whores. Make it snappy." Roy said before returning to his bed. Connor turned to Jack and shrugged. "Send in four more Ellies. Make sure they're varied in appearance so he doesn't get suspicious" He said to the subordinates awaiting his commands. Connor turned to Jack: "What do you think? Will he achieve it now?" Jack: "Unless something about our process is wrong, I believe he's now a perfect connection to the alpha-plane." Connor: "What should we do with him?" Jack: "Same as the others, wait for the connection, paralyze the process, extract the area of the brain responsible for this behavior and toss him out into the street. " Connor: "But this one has actually become a massive, AND I MEAN MASSIVE threat! Don't you worry what he'll do once he..." Jack: "Not at all. Without the part of his brain critical for the connection, he'll lose all confidence in himself. Without the "Alpha" lobe, he's just a beta in a jacked body. He'll likely fade into obscurity taking a meaningless job doing fuck all, or maybe even returning to methamphetamines. Either way, it's not our problem. Connor once again reflected upon his moral compass before tossing it aside and carrying out his orders as the three new Ellies entered the room. End of Part 2! Sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy! Part 3 coming soon! Part 3: Roy's Advancement Connor entered Roys chamber as he started up with his harem for the fourth day in a row. "Alright Roy, we've reached about as far as the drug can take you, you ready to move on to stage 3? Make all this permanent?" Roy chuckled. "As far as it can take me? Hell no. Get your fucking science bitches to improve the effects, I might have the strength of a bear now, but if you start selling this anyone can become a god like me." Connor began to grow annoyed with Roy as he loaded another Ellie droid onto his cock to begin the ritual once more. Two others were using their tongues to pleasure Roy's feet. "I'm sorry Roy, but your body simply isn't capable of expanding any..." "DON'T TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK MY BODY CAN DO!" Roy roared at the top of his lungs "IT CAN'T DO ANYTHING ELSE! JUST LOCK IN WHAT YOU HAVE!" Connor started to argue. " YOU DARE TALK BACK TO YOUR GOD THAT WAY!" Roy snaped. Connor was going to just give up and wait for Roy to run out of energy, but he was horrified at what happened next. Roy, whom hadn't stopped fucking the Ellie droid for the conversation, had grown so angry at Connor's defiance, that he ripped the droid's legs off and split her torso down the middle in a harrowing display of power and arrogance. The interal organs of Ellie are mechanical, however the various liquids that make up Ellie's heating/cooling components are all red liquids, like normal human blood. Everyone was shocked by what Roy had done as he stood there eyes shut as the warm red liquid covered his face. The other two Ellie droids, whom normally are programmed for service, did have a sense of self preservation as well, and thus backed off into a corner in fear and terror. Jack watching behind the glass had already pushed the alarm button to send militarized personnel to the chamber. "You killed her...." Connor stuttered, now fearing for his own life. "Yeah, I did. If you have a fucking problem with it, I can kill you too." Jack spoke up over the intercom: "Wonderful Roy, I'm glad you wanted more from the treatment, if you let Connor go we'll get you some more compounds. " Roy smiled evilly and threw Connor at the door. "MAKE IT SNAPPY!" As Connor retreated to the observation room, military personnel entered the chamber and cornered Roy. "Thank you sir! But we don't have anything else to give him!" "Connor don't be stupid, you know I just told him that to get you out of the room. But we have a new problem... Look." Jack pointed to a monitor they had attached inside of Roy's brain next to the Alpha lobe. Connor spoke up: "I don't understand the Alpha lobe is exhausted isn't it? It ran out of juice because we overworked it with the compounds..." Jack: "We did... And it was dormant... Up until a few minutes ago when he split that Ellie droid in half. Now it's clocking in at 400% higher activity than during the trial.... " Connor: "Wait are you saying...." Jack: "He's going to grow again....And really fucking fast!" The two looked up in horror as the military personnel surrounded Roy. "You dare defy your all-powerful leader?" Roy frowned at the police. "Just come quietly Roy, no one else needs to get hurt today..." Suddenly Roy screamed. "FUUUCK! MY CHEST! MY FUCKING CHEST!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?!" Everyone in the room became mesmerized as Roy's already titanic frame began to expand even further. AHHHHGGGG!!!! THIS POWER! "THIS ABSOLUTE POWER!" As Roy finished growing he rubbed his hands across every inch of his new body. It had transformed. Most all of his bones had been split apart and replaced by a complex connection of virtually invincible muscle. He no longer needed lungs, as he could now will oxygen to be pumped through his body where needed subconsciously. His heart now seemed tiny compared to his massive pectoral muscles pumping pure oxygen and energy throughout his body, and eventually was crushed by the expanding slabs of pure power. Veins as well had begun appearing all over him running straight up his now foot-wide spine connecting straight to his brain, giving him complete control over every cell he touched. Roy looked at the guards around him, each one shaking in fear. Two of them fired their guns, smacking him right in the heart and lower jaw. The shot that hit his heart simply ricocheted off, and the one that hit him beneath his jaw simply reformed within second after being shot off. Without opening his mouth, Roy willed the air around him to reverberate as a cool soft but clearly evil sound: "Worship Me....." Two of the officers ran away in fear, only to slow and drop to their knees, having lost all hope of ever defying such power. The three female officers began stripping They muttered quite a bit about how they didn't want to do it, one even stabbed her left hand to try and snap out of it, but Roy wasn't having it, he simply smiled and ripped down a nearby wall into a make-shift throne. Each of the girls and the Ellies who were still in the corner began pleasing Roy however they could. Eventually even some of the guys offered up their bodies to Roy. "Sir... The Alpha lobe has gone hyper-critical... It's evolved Roy into some kind of god-like entity. He appears to have complete control of his surroundings, and is even manipulating his musk into a neurotoxin, one whiff and you're completely under his control, even the Ellies were affected despite not needing oxygen. He can even survive multiple gunshot wounds, and that's all without even raising a finger." Roy began to lecture the room "This is the dawn of a new era, in which the world devotes itself to me, it's all-powerful master. As my first act as king, we shall commit a great cleanse...." It was horrific, this monstrous beast was speaking like hitler, talking about the removal of anyone who didn't fit his racist agenda from the world. Truthfully I don't wish to repeat what he said here as it's just deplorable... Two of the officers bearing witness to him shot themselves upon hearing his commands. "Jack this is bad... We've given godlike power to the next Hitler... And it's all our faults!" Conner worried. Jack was less worried. "Hmm... It's terrible the damage he's caused so far... But I don't think he'll get much further." And with that Jack pushed a large red button on the wall. The ceiling above Roy opened to reveal a series of rail-guns, seven of them, each armed with a two yard long sharpened bolt with a corrosive interior. Roy managed to deflect the first twelve or so, but soon enough the bolts pierced his massive body and separated his head from the rest of himself. With that a series of agents in hazmat suits burst in and began spraying and quarantining the head and body. With that catastrophe was eliminated, and Roy was dead. Connor turned to Jack as the two left the office that day. "Jack... I... I know I said I'd serve you until the very end... But... I don't know if I can keep doing this... Today was too close. One more botched experiment on another rogue asshole and we might cause an endless era of pain and suffering for everyone on the planet!" "I couldn't agree more Connor. We simply can't have that kind of power getting into another loose cannon like Roy..." "So... You're for real? You're shutting down?" Jack chuckled for a bit and turned to Connor. "No. We just need to start experimenting on more trustworthy personnel." "Who? Connor asked." "Isnt' it obvious?" Jack answered. "You Connor." End of Part 3! Part 4 coming soon! Part 4: The Hybrid Connor was not a normal person. He was born a beta to a family of accountants and nurses, all of whom worked at the mercy of Jack's family for generations. Their treatment towards Connor and his kin was to be expected of a typical beta-alpha relationship, abuse, mockery, humiliation, ect. However Connor hid a deep secret. His father was (as to be expected) a complete cuck with nothing special for a wife, and regularly had to watch as the love of his life was fucked mercilessly by Jack's Uncle. Typically, most betas don't get to see the end of an alpha's sex experience, passing out or giving up partway through, however due to Jack's uncle being severely drunk in a cold December evening, an accident occurred, and nine months later, Connor was conceived in secret. Connor lived as a beta and took after his parents, with one small blessing hidden with his pants, a massive ten inch sausage with golf-ball sized testicles to match. Never the less, Connor's beta teaching never even allowed him to understand the gift he was given. It wasn't until Jack was rejected from the house that he met Connor in the showers at a local gym. The two had met before, but didn't give another thought to one another until Jack recognized Connor's shlong and realized his potential. From there Connor and Jack would pursue revenge on the family that had wronged them and anyone else that would stand in their way, quickly forming their own company for their dark research into the history and nature of Alphabetrium. ----------------- Two weeks had gone by sense the Roy incident and Connor had begun treatment. Jack rested within his office, fixing paperwork for what seemed like hours before Connor's temporary replacement Justin buzzed in with a concerned tone: "Uh, sir, I believe there may be a problem approaching your Office sir, Should I engage needle protocol?" Jack turned to the series of monitors behind him to see what the issue was. He recognized who it was quickly and signaled Justin to engage needle protocol. Within a few moments, Jack surrounded himself with a small squadron of Ellie Droids. Jack only recognized one approaching threat: Lisa, no doubt pissed about how she was wronged and here with her boyfriend Mike, the hulked out muscular giant, to return the favor. But he was ready for this scenario, and simply waited patiently in his chair, only to turn arround and find one of the largest specimens Jack had ever witnessed tower over him. "What's up runt? I hear you're getting friendly with my bitch, hope you don't mind if I just break your little punk ass dick off do you?" Mike growled with an enraged grit in his teeth before Lisa pulled him back sensually. Lisa then walked up and spoke to Jack: "Look, I found out you already destroyed the tapes, don't ask how, I just know. So I think I'm going to enjoy fucking you in the ass a bit before we kill you." Jack didn't flinch a muscle as his droids surrounded Mike. Lisa laughed "You really think a few piles of scrap metal can stop the beast Mike's become? HA! You're even dumber than you look. He'll smash them all to pieces before they even pierce his skin." Jack simply laughed into "oooooh Lisa, Lisa, Lisa... I don't need to hurt Mike, but you're correct to assume he'll be smashing them." Lisa turned around in horror to see her boyfreind being sucked off by various girls with pristine skill. Despite Lisa's begging and attempts to intervene, it appeared as though Mike was completely subdued. Practically red with rage, Lisa turned back to Jack and smiled. "And who's going to stop me and my superior strength from ripping you apart?" she said. "I am!" said the cheery voice of Connor from behind her. The compounds had worked such wonders with Connor's body it brought a smile to Jack' face. Connor was huge, powerful, and finally tapping into his suppressed Alpha psyche. As the powerful stud finished cuffing Lisa to a chair, Jack began to explain the situation to Lisa. "So, you're probably wondering how I turned my weak little underling you met a few weeks ago into the hunky Goliath we can't take our eyes off now... " With that, Jack explained the whole situation regarding Roy to Lisa and showed her the footage and imprinting a face that combined horror and extreme power-lust into her. "And so as you can see, the first successful specimen had some serious issues...." "No shit..." was all Lisa could muster after seeing the god-like Roy gunned down by the same turret now sitting a few feet above her. "That's why for attempt two, we used Connor. Not only is he immensely loyal, but his brain is now linked to my command center, giving me full control over his actions. Don't worry, he wrote the wavers signing over this control himself. We have complete trust in one another. "Now, here's where we seem to have an issue. We can't seem to re-create the conditions we did with Roy to achieve the ascension stage... We've worked all the power into Connor that we can, and we think he's even stronger than Roy was initially before he split the Ellie droid in half, all of which is good news. But despite exposing Connor to the same concoction of chemicals and the same ritualistic sexual experience, he didn't evolve to the next stage like Roy did." Jack pondered. "Now, here's where things get interesting. We have a hypothesis. When Roy ripped the poor robot in half, he had no idea he was destroying metal fluid and wires, he thought he was killing a real human. In his mind he believed, in his soul, that he was better than everyone else and that he'd earned the right to murder through his acquisition of power. Connor however, knows the girls I send him are all droids, and thus can't achieve the same mindset despite our attempts to work around it." Then Jack smiled evilly and crouched down to the fearful Lisa. "That's where you come in." --------------------------------------- Before long Lisa was strapped with her own personal mind-controller and put into Roy's now repaired chamber where she sweat profusely at her oncoming fate. As Connor stood in the doorway, menacingly, he grinned evilly. "Test 4, Subject Connor _____ beginning now. Ascension phase sacrificial criteria experiment requires the base be on red alert in case of immense threat." This warning continued as Jack pushed a series of buttons allowing Connor to begin the ritual of connection with Lisa and two assisting Ellies. Jack then turned to his captive in the Observation room. "I am sorry about scaring you Lisa, I needed Connor to think I'd actually risk human life over this experiment, you understand." Jack said to the gagged REAL Lisa chained to the chair next to him. Jack was determined but also not a stupid man. If the experiment failed there'd be blood on his hands he didn't want to have, so instead Jack simply prepared a duplicate Lisa-droid based off the information he'd already gathered from his sexual experience with her and sent the droid to be sacrificed to Jack's new pet Titan. Lisa was shaking, dripping wet, and gasping for air as she watched the beast that was Connor fuck herself in front of her. It entranced her to think about the way she saw herself being touched and the power that would soon be unleashed through this. "Here it comes..." Jack said as he watched Connor lift Lisa-droid into the air just as Roy had. And in one beefy rip, Connor bathed in the red fluid of the fake Lisa, triggering the process and sending his Alpha-lobe into overdrive. As Jack and Lisa watched, Connor felt a surge of incredible power flow into him. He can't describe where it came from but it fueled every cell in his body with more energy than a nuclear blast. Connor's legs were the first to feel the effects as the already massive tree-trunks swelled up giving even more form to his tight and massive ass. Next came the chest, where Connor's massive pectorals pushed and pushed themselves into new crosshatched patterns, giving him even greater strength and flexibility throughout his whole body. Inside, various parts such as the liver, heart, lungs, and skeletal system morphed and twisted as they realized they'd become useless. Connor's blood would now transfer oxygen throughout his body instantaneously by forcing the atoms within him into the form they needed to be to serve him, he no longer needed voice as his sheer dominion over the air allowed him to vibrate what he needed people to hear even more perfectly than vocal cords could ever achieve. As the expansion of muscle slowed, the control of Connor's body increased, smoothing Connor's muscles into pristine forms, granting him skin-tight definition to his hard-as-steel twelve pack abdominals each one acting as a self-charging battery, granting Connor immense energy that he could transform at will. Finally, at the peak of the transformation, amidst his cries of self-praise and ecstasy, Connor's already large cock filled with pure alphabetrium, expanding slowly and obtaining new lines of muscle, granting control over the organ as if it were a powerful fifth limb, easily capable of lifting over seven women. Lisa was foaming at the mouth at the sight of the new evolution of Alpha and a tear fell down Jack's cheek. It was like looking at a monster. A huge, overpowered, hunk of a monster. Connor was calm as he continued to explore his new body. As he touched it, his cock grew harder and harder, eventually resting just in front of the foot-deep ridge between his pecs. As a team of neutralizer agents entered the chamber, Jack began to speak to his creation. "Connor? How does it feel? What do you think of your new form?" Jack asked from the observation room, forgetting to activate the speaker. None the less however, Connor replied without opening his mouth. "Hello Jack.... You're so small now..." "No kidding, you look like a god kid." Connor laughed at the notion of being referred to as "kid". "It feels.... Complete. Which saddens me. Part of being human is finding new ways to grow, to improve. But I have achieved all I will ever be able to achieve. It's odd truely. To bear witness to absolute power, even greater than what I am now, and know I will only act as your final stepping stone to achieve what only you can. I have seen the infinite, Jackovia of Omega, and we have already set a course towards the beautiful conclusion." "What do you mean Connor? Is this not enough? Is this not the exact power we've stove for endlessly for years?" "Of course not my friend. This is simply the opening of the door to such power. The final step... Is to step through... A feat only you can obtain soon... Jackovia... " Connor spoke before pausing for a breif minute. "Jackovia... Only you can hear me, and only you may need to hear me.... I have but one thing left to do in this world before I ascend to the right hand seat of what will soon be your throne in a dimension of pure power beyond the limits of human perception.... In three... Maybe four weeks time.... My body will reach the peak of it's ability, and I will shed it. I will pass this might into the person I deem worthy of obtaining it, and you will transcend past me, past imagination, into a new empire. The final test will be to drain the purified Alphabetrium from my magnificent scepter. When properly forged, it will take the power of another being as strong as me to maintain, but any creature accustom to Alphabetrium will never be able to reach the potent compound. Indeed, the only being capable of wielding such power, is an alpha whom isn't an alpha." Jack stared at the beautiful man he'd created as he continued to rub himself all over and thought to himself: "This is it. I'm coming Connor. And no one is going to be ready for me" as he penciled in the preparations for his own ascension process. End of Part 4! Final part will be out soon! How will this end? Part 5 The Omega Lisa had been gnawing savagely at her bindings. She had to get out. On one hand she saw the writing on the wall: Jack was going to have to kill her to achieve the catalyst... But on the other hand, the instinct within Lisa filled her head with thoughts of the raw liquid power inside Connor. She lusted for it. It drove her crazier than her concern for her own life. Such power had never before been wielded by any alpha. And what it'd done to such a beta... What a waste... In the dark recesses of her mind, Lisa fantasized about a paradise she could create for herself if she could JUST get out of these binds... But it was no use... Eventually Jack came to see her. "Now, Lisa, I know you feel hopeless, but I want to assure you, I am quite a fair man. I wouldn't just slaughter you in cold blood... That being said, you or your boyfriend try to land a hand on me or Connor, and we will not hesitate to take you out..." "What do you want..." Lisa growled "I... Dislike conflict Lisa... And at the end of the day, I truthfully want the ability to rest easy at night, knowing that nobody will have the ability to oppose me. So, I'm giving you a chance." "A chance?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. "I've started Mike on the treatment. The results are fantastically impressive. We're actually starting to run out of hyprolic silicon for the Ellies and have to switch to normal silicon." Lisa stood dumbfounded. Jack had everything he needed. He could ascend to a throne of untold might and no one stood in his way or even knew of his plot. And here he was, giving monstrous power to a man who absorbed his roommate and attempted to kill him. Why? Then she caught a glimpse of her boyfriend. She was drooling at the mouth as she gazed upon Mike's somehow even larger frame in awe. "You like him? Yes he took to the serum like a duck to water. Best results yet. He'll weigh over eight hundred lbs in muscle alone. He'll enter the ascension phase tomorrow, and we'll send in another Lisa droid, and he'll become superhuman like Roy and Connor, granting him new abilities far beyond that of a mortal man." "Why are you doing this?" Lisa steamed. "Well... Because tomorrow I will begin my treatment. And after about a week, I'll begin my ascension phase. At which point, I shall drink from Connor's elixir, and ascend to my throne as the last stage in evolution. The Omega. I offer this week as a trial for Mike. If with all the power available to me, Mike can not drink Connor's elixir, I will prove my dominance, and use Mike as my catalyst for ascension." "And... If he is able to drink from Connor? Or if he doesn't take kindly to the idea of you killing him?" "He will have every opportunity to fight back, but in the end, I will win." Jack left the room with that thought as Lisa sat in fear at what she'd been told. Jack was clearly insane... Why would he do this? The next day Jack sat in the observation room as the ascension phase was undertaken by Mike. Mike had already had most of his vital organs replaced by the effects of alphabetrium-overload when he absorbed Tom, maxing that out even further gave Mike even more control over the universe around him. In Mike's short time as an evolved superspeciman, he learned to extend his will further than the limits of physical force, to the point that he could will changes in subatomic Quarks, Bosons, and Leptons to change the effect of gravity around him to whatever degree he saw fit, giving him virtually unlimited strength and total control over the behavior of objects in his immediate reach. With such power at his finger tips, the thought of sex seemed lost to himself as no ordinary human could even survive anything that would please Mike, so instead, utilizing the real Lisa as the epicenter of his exerted sexual ability, Mike plowed Lisa and a variety of other women, both real and android, simultaneously through quantum feilds linked to Mike's pleasure receptors and his victim's entire body, effectively paralyzing the receiver in mid-air until released by Mike. Still, Mike's rein was short lived. Holding this kind of power allowed Mike a vision of absolute power, and it was but a drop away. A sip of Connor's essence would give Mike power beyond the perception of mortals, but to his horror, he could not approach Connor. With Lisa's help, he managed to enter the room Connor rested in, but despite his might and control, he could not bring himself to even glance at Connor's divine beauty. At his core, he understood why, as the very energy that had given him god-like abilities was now being forced to work against him. He stood no chance at ever acquiring what sat just outside his reach. Jack had pulled out all of the stops in his bulking process, utilizing artifacts, a strict diet and workout schedule, and purified substances distilled to perfection to ensure the perfect results. The final results had Jack finally controlling a body more powerful than Mike's when he met him. Huge perfectly sculpted pectorals rested atop a wall of abdominal strength, connected to two trunks of amazing squatting power, and a throbbing powerful cock drawing looks from any who gazed upon it. He was a titan among men, and it was finally time for him to obtain the throne he'd sought after for so long. As he entered Connor's chamber on the final day, Lisa sat crying in the hall, as after seven days, and the supernatural level of power obtained by her lover, Mike could not drink the elixir. Mike laid on the floor, his face pressed against the floor as he tried harder and harder to approach Connor to no avail. As Jack stood above Mike, a single tear rolled down Mike's face at the sight of him. Mike was easily the stronger of the two, and under normal circumstance could crush Jack with a flick of his wrist. But these weren't normal circumstance, and despite the immense power forcing the mighty Mike to the ground, Jack stood in the same room, unaffected. "How pathetic" was all Jack said as he approached Connor. "This is it sir, I'll be waiting for your command on the other side." said Connor as his skin faded to a crisp golden glow. Jack sucked the essence of his friend directly into his bloodstream, then turned to the weaping Mike, grabbing him by the pectorals and splitting him open down the middle, absorbing Mike's body into his new form. As the energy of a billion stars flooded Jackovia's body, Jack gained dominion over a higher plane of existence. He marveled at genius of it and it's complexity. But alas the power of Jackovia's mind was well equipped to analyze all of it impossibly efficiently. Jack looked over his new kingdom and the reality that came with it. He now controlled the rules of reality. He had ascended all the way to the end. The will of the world was now bound to Jack and he had freedom to roam the various multiverses at will, to interact with any universe he found as he see fit. As he stared across the infinite, the infinite stared back, telling him all kinds of stories and tales from across causality, and inserting himself as he see fit to stimulate realities to pursue paths he preferred. From atop this throne, Jack spent eons being worshiped by alphas, betas, and between alike. Eventually he bored of fame and worship and pursued a life of curiosity in the shadows, appearing as a mysterious entity into the lives of normal people and granting them extraordinary power to see what they'd do with it. Connor would offer his services as a loyal servant, but Jack treated him as his personal friend. And that's the end of Jack's story! How'd you like it? The next episode in this saga will follow the perspective of a normal amateur bodybuilder existing in a world warped by the power bestowed to average civilians by Jack and his minions! It's also going to function somewhat differently, acting more episodic and focusing on the use of acquired power rather than the constant thirst for more and possibly being extended to a continuous story. Let me know what you want to see more of to help improve!
  5. Hey y'all. Another story here. Couple of things to lay out before getting started: This story is complete. I'm just posting it in 4-5 portions to keep it digestible, since it's pretty long. This story is going to end up in a different place than it begins. No one in this story is particularly nice or gets what they deserve. If you like stories about nice people finally getting their break, this one is not for you. Hope someone out there enjoys reading this as much as I fuckin' enjoyed writing it. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Final Part --- Logan Mitchell sawed off a piece of sumptuous steak and placed it daintily into his mouth, savouring the taste. It had been so long since he had tasted meat. He was celebrating, he needed this. “No,” he thought, “I don’t need to justify eating meat anymore.” He had just come off a bad breakup that had caused him to put his entire life into perspective. He’d been working for the last five years at a small tech startup that had consumed his life. They “worked hard, and played hard,” which mostly meant that he worked sixteen-hour days, six days a week, and got to wear a pink tie on Fridays. His girlfriend had gotten fed up with his not spending any time with her and dumped him, and then the week after a large tech giant bought the startup and restructured the entire original dev team out of the company which had left Logan both without work and without the girl who the work was getting in the way of. It was then that Logan decided his life needed a change. Both work and his girl had controlled him for too long. He was 27, and it was time that he did the things he wanted to do with his life. Luckily for him, he was able to leverage his past experience at his startup into a cushier gig at a more established company, with both a strict 9-5, and what looked like a relaxed management team. His mind reeled at the thought of all he could do with the extra 48 hours per week in his life. Having finished his steak, he looked at his reflection on the empty metal plate. He took his napkin and wiped the juices off to see himself better. Auburn-haired, 6’4”, with a deep-set brow and decent jawline. He had narrow eyes, but upon close inspection they revealed startlingly green irises. He was a catch, he told himself. He didn’t need that… that… that bitch. He needed to make an effort to spit it out, even in his head. Under his breath he tried again, “That… b-bitch. Bitch.” No more vegetarian diet. No more Sunday social justice rallies. No more acceding to her decisions on every wardrobe purchase. No more baby-faced-clean-shaven “I don’t like the way your stubble scratches my skin.” He drained the rest of his beer. No more “alcohol is for wife-beaters and hobos.” He was going to do what he wanted, and what he wanted, was to fuck every bimbo from Calhoun’s to O’Kelly’s looking for a one-night stand. So, he decided he’d better work on himself first to make sure they found him irresistible. He grinned into his reflection. No more moping, no more feeling sorry for himself. He was going to hit the gym first thing tomorrow morning. --- It was 5 am, and the gym was mostly empty, by choice as he was sure he was going to embarrass himself. The gym had always intimidated Logan, as his long hours sitting behind a desk had left him with a rather doughy physique. He was 160 lbs and his past few years of vegetarianism had done little to put real muscle on his naturally tall and slim figure. “The very definition of skinny-fat,” he thought, using the new knowledge he had learned from a night of scrolling through every bodybuilding and hardgainer website he could lay his eyes on. Scanning around, he instead found that only the most hardcore lifters in the gym were around at this time, and his jaw gaped in awe at the ripped physiques around him lifting incalculable weights all the way overhead, then letting hundreds of pounds of iron crash thunderously to the ground. The way those muscles moved and worked… fascinated him. A pang of regret hit him. If only he had even walked into a gym any time since high school, he was sure he’d have fallen into it by now. He couldn’t take his eyes off of them. Eventually, his desire to work on himself managed to rip his eyes away. Using video links from a beginner’s routine, he started to teach himself how to do the exercises he had planned for the morning. He was only supposed to use the bar and easy weights, but he felt unsatisfied by the lack of challenge. He decided to add some weight, ahead of schedule. Feeling the resistance as his body worked… the sensation was euphoric. He loved every second of it. By the end of the workout he was sprawled out on the ground with his face to the sky, sweating buckets, the burning soreness hurting so good, his only regret that he needed to wait an entire day before he could do this again. As he showered off the cooling water on his burning up body washed away his fatigue and he began his workday with a focus he never knew he could muster. That day Logan ate like a madman, gorging himself on meat, potatoes and vegetables and sipping at protein shakes non-stop throughout the day. As soon as he went home, he went right back to researching workouts, diets and supplements that would help him reach his goal. “Thank god,” he thought, “for same-day shipping.” --- Two weeks later, after cleaning up from his fifth enormous meal of the day (“code compiling” time became “stuff his face” time twice a day now), he went to the bathroom to do his business. While washing his hands he noticed that his shirt didn’t quite sit on himself the same way. Looking up, he was startled to see his own face, bristling with two weeks of stubble growth. He ran his hands over his growing beard, feeling the hard bristles scratch against his skin. He looked good. “Fuckin’ good,” he corrected himself. He couldn’t swear at work, so he was still being careful, but he was cultivating a devil-may-care attitude for when he finally worked up the courage to head down to the bar and swim with the fishes. But seeing his face like this was a revelation, a new perspective. He’d been clean shaven all his adult years and didn’t realize how beard could shape his jaw just so, and make him seem, older, tougher, stronger. “I’m never going to shave again”, he resolved. He growled at himself, snarling to see how intimidating he could be, and the muscles of his neck tensed, drawing his attention down to his collar that seemed to rise a little bit more than before. He put his hand beneath his shirt and felt it – small hard mounds that had replaced the softness that had previously been there. Nowhere near the size and definition of any of the guys he stared at in his peripheral vision at 5 am every other day, but a far cry from the softness he had felt all over for years. Unable to resist, he pulled his shirt off over his head and looked at himself. He saw pecs. Pecs just on the verge of existing, where you can rub your chest and finally feel some flesh moving underneath. His suspicions confirmed, he donned his shirt again. He rubbed his stomach, still bulging a bit from all the food he had just ate, but quickly put that from his mind. He closed his eyes and summoned the testosterone within him. Imagining it coursing through his veins, addling his brain, giving him confidence. In his mind’s eye, his handsome face and shape clinched it. He was ready to head to the bar. “Whiskey, neat,” he demanded, for the fourth time straight. Just like the other three, he downed it in a single gulp. From his college years, he knew he needed a few to get the liquid courage going. Slamming the glass onto the bar, he looked up and scanned around the room. The busty babes seemed to glow in front of him. There! One was looking straight at him. Perfect. He flashed her an easy smile, then sauntered on over. Ten minutes later he was jamming his fuckrod down her throat in a bathroom stall. Waves of pleasure coursing through him, he tilted his head up, closed his eyes and sneered, his growing whiskers opening up to reveal his teeth in a cocky grin. He couldn’t believe how easy that had been. Before he could nod in her general direction and grunt “Yo, wanna fuck?” she had thrown herself onto his arm and they were off to the races. Granted, she wasn’t a bombshell, but what had he even been psyching himself up for? Thirty minutes later, he was done, but his ego demanded more. Three whiskeys later he was on his second lay of the night. Eventually, he blacked out, deliriously happy. The next morning, at 4 am, still buzzed and roaring with testosterone, he told the bitch to get out, made himself the breakfast of champions, and headed right to the gym, where he hit the weights harder than ever. --- Two weeks later, Logan found himself at a gun show upstate. He’d never fired a gun before, except in video games, years ago, before he’d been indoctrinated by his “we need more gun control, and violent video games cause serial killers” ex. Tripping on how much he had enjoyed rebelling against his former, meatless, beardless, tee-totalling self, he was raring to go on the rest of that guns and ‘merica shit. Glancing around the room he knew he had found his type. This is where the real men were – rugged, burly individualists who didn’t take shit from no one. He found himself a buddy in a redheaded giant of a man with a Van Dyke named Bronson, covered head-to-toe in 5.11 Tactical gear. After some good natured offensive jokes and back slaps, Logan found himself down several thousands of dollars and up a glock, an AR-15 rifle, and some tactical wear of his own. Now 180 lbs, he was finally starting to fit into the clothes he owned, which, tailored to more proportionate 6’4” guys, had always swamped him. Nevertheless, he had bigger plans and knew he’d be needing clothes made for beefier folk. After the show Bronson took him to the range and showed him how to shoot, and Logan fell in love with the loud crack of gunfire and the instantaneous destruction it caused on the other end. He loved the way the recoil kick of the shot would put tension on his frame and body. He resolved to come back once a week and fire to his heart’s content. “Yee-haw!” Bronson cried, “Next tahm, I’ll take ya huntin’! Shootin’s fun an’ all but there’s nothin’ like killin’ somethin’ an’ eatin’ it right there!” Logan salivated at the thought. They headed over to a nearby buffet and emptied it out between the two of them, before saying their goodbyes. Unfortunately, Bronson lived two hour’s drive in the opposite direction, so they wouldn’t be able to do much but meet at the range once in a while, but Logan had never before had a real buddy the way men do, who needed few words between them but could shoot and eat a horse together all the same. --- “An adult male weighs at least 200 pounds.” Logan had read Rippetoe’s words over and over again during he research, and no matter how the ladies grabbed at his muscles, after each personal record set in the gym, no matter how tight his clothes were feeling over his frame, in these long past three months he had never felt adequate because of this phrase. Stepping on the scale after his post-workout shower, his mind seized as he saw the number: 202.6. He ran over to the mirror, nearly bowling over an older man. His scowling, fully bearded face oozed aggression as he tensed every muscle, pumped as hell from the bodybuilding routine he had switched to after hitting his initial 225 lbs bench goal just last week. His eyes glanced at the frail man beside him, then back to himself. He roared and then exhaled powerfully in and out like a gorilla. No one would mistake him for a computer nerd now. In fact, at a company-wide meeting the day before, several of the new hires mistook him as the CEO of the company because of how much his simple presence dominated the room. Right after, he had a performance review with his manager where the portly, bespectacled man stammered and muttered his way through the interview before offering him the biggest raise of his life. No one questioned him about his changes over the past three months, as he was more focused and productive than ever. Sauntering into his workplace after yet another record-setting breakfast, he winked at the secretary who he’d laid just last week, filled his favourite mug with protein shake from the gallon jug of it he brought every day, then went to his desk, cracked his knuckles, and then had a thought. What he would do with a bit of extra time in his day… He had been enjoying his extra 48 hours a week immensely between the workouts, hunting, eating, binge drinking and fucking but he felt like he could be doing more. A lightbulb went off in his head – automation. For the rest of his day, he browsed Stack Exchange seeing which of his tasks were automatable and what it would take to do them, but it wasn’t easy. Still, he started to imagine what he could do with more “compiling time” in his day and looked forward to the challenge. The day flew by and he was on top of the world. Feeling high from his progress both on his body and at work, Logan stepped into the bar, downed a whiskey, and arrogantly scanned the room. He wasn’t looking for clearly flirty bimbo this time, he was looking for the most beautiful woman in the room. He found a trophy blonde, beelined for her, tilted her chin up towards him and demanded. “You. Me. Fuck. Now.” She giggled, seeming torn somehow, until Logan felt a tap on the shoulder and realized a jacked, stubbly frat boy building like a linebacker was looking up at him. The frat boy shoved himself between the babe and him and snarled. “She’s mine.” Logan sneered but before he could say anything a fist was flying at his face. He took a painful stab to the jaw and swung right back at his assailant’s abdomen. The frat boy tackled him to the ground and they wrestled it out, while a circle formed around them, yelling encouragement while the blonde fanned herself, living out a long-imagined fantasy of being fought over by two jacked-up studs. A bouncer came over but a bystander took a swing at him, and soon everyone in the circle had joined the fray. After thirty minutes of wrestling at each other, everyone else long since having dropped out, exhausted, Logan and the frat boy separated, and lay side by side laughing heartily. “Damn, fucker, you’re strong!” The frat boy picked himself up and offered a hand to Logan, “I’m Darryl. Yourself?” “I’m Logan. Fuck, man. Don’t I see you at Metroflex all the time?” This guy had been one of the ripped gymgoers Logan had been so intimated by three months ago. Sizing him up now, Darryl clearly still had twenty pounds on him, but on a 6’ frame that made him seem even more jacked. “Yeah dude. Join me for a smoke outside.” It was Logan’s first smoke, but he had grown to love the smell of tobacco at gun shows. He took deep drags that heightened his sensations and he found he could easily stomach a lung full of acrid smoke. He liked smoking. It made him feel tough. That night, the Darryl and his blonde, Candy, introduced Logan to the concept of a threesome, and Candy took both of their caveman dicks hungrily all night. Logan left that night satisfied by both a good fuck and by having found a new workout buddy. --- The next morning, Logan and Darryl met up for their workout and Darryl had a little locker room secret to show him: steroids. Darryl was juiced to the gills for the varsity team and needed to start selling to help pay his monthly costs. Logan didn’t need a second thought – instantly money changed hands and they jabbed each other in preparation for what Darryl promised was going to be a mindblowing workout. Starting to get pumped even before beginning, Logan licked his lips in anticipation. It was better than he could have ever imagined. Aggression pumping through his brain, seeing red. Logan roared with each rep, smashing each of his previous lifts by thirty pounds each. His pump was so rock hard and ready to burst that he could feel himself squeezing, growing out of his skin each time he flexed in the mirror, hair matted with sweat, wild eyes and a toothy grin peeking through his full beard looking like a wild beast. “The fuckin’ best part?” Darryl remarked cockily, “on gear you can lift every day. You’ve been around every other day, I know, but you haven’t seen me on your off days since you’re so fuckin’ consistent. It’s time for you to bless this gym daily now. Every. Fuckin’. Day.” Afterwards, Logan treated Darryl to an all-you-can-eat buffet for breakfast. By this point, Logan barely went to any other kind of eating establishment, and even Darryl could barely believe how much Logan could eat: thirty strips of bacon, sixteen eggs, eight pieces of toast slathered in butter, three bowls of plain Greek yogurt and eighteen sausages, washed down with six glasses of milk. They parted ways and Logan growled, still raring to go. At work, for the first time ever, Logan couldn’t keep focused. He decided it was time to pull the trigger on his automated scripts. As they ran, he did pushups, dips, pistol squats, anything and everything that came to mind. Once the first script was complete, he found that with the extra exercise he had settled down a bit and could sit down and complete tasks that required his full attention. Every couple of hours he would find himself filling back up with pent up energy. So once again he’d run one of his scripts, workout or eat in the meanwhile, then come back with enough of a clear mind to keep working. By the end of the day he was calm enough to do more complex tasks and so he had a new routine established.
  6. Hi all. I am a loooooooong time lurker (maybe around 15 years). I have written a lot of short stories over the years. One of my original inspirations was O's artwork on cyoc and BBMSN's stories. More recently my inspirations have been the work of gitbigger (rest in peace) and scriptboy. Anywho, I decided to finally join and post one of my stories that I have been working on. I really have no idea whether it is any good, but I hope someone at least gets some enjoyment reading it. The events in this story are very loosely based on truth. I do have a friend that the character "Mikey" is modeled after. I added the "brainwash" tag since the characters cannot perceive reality. Game Nights Part 1 - Introduction I used to go over to my friend Mikey's house every Friday for game night. I was a pretty big guy - 6'5" and 270 pounds. I carried my weight well, as most people would tell you that I weighed 190. It always annoyed me that people thought that I was smaller than my actual weight. Unfortunately for Mikey, he did not carry his weight well. He was only 5'2, but weighed 200 pounds. I envied his body shape since we first met. My body shape had always been an enigma. I was tall and had somewhat lanky arms and chest like an ectomorph, but my shoulders were not much bigger than my wide hips similar to an endomorph. You might say that I was cross between a triangle and rectangle. If I gained any more weight, I would look sloppy with fat just hanging from my stomach, legs and hips while my upper body would maintain a slender look. Mikey was more of an apple. He had wide shoulders and narrow hips. I always surmised that he was a mesomorph that just had gained too much weight. Of course I had not measured it, but have often wondered if his shoulders were actually wider than mine (even with being over a foot shorter). His gut was more like a ball. Instead of hanging like mine would at that size, it defied gravity and just stuck out in a big rounded shape. Any shirt he wore always had trouble since his wide shoulders begged the shirt to be pulled upward with any motion and the gut was somewhat happen to get the stretched fabric off of it. I got on to a health kick after around three years of game nights. Mikey said that he wanted to work at his waistline too. They always say that apple shapes are more prone to heart disease so shrinking the waist-to-hip ratio would definitely be in his favor. Seeing him every week, it was really difficult to tell whether he was successful or not. It wasn't until I looked at an older social media picture that I was able to see a difference. His waist did not look any smaller, but he definitely looked healthier, if that makes sense. Another couple of weeks went by and we found ourselves chatting before starting to play some games. We were in his kitchen prepping some snacks. Apparently his eating habits hadn't changed that much, but he definitely looked better than even the picture from two weeks prior. When he turned and bent into the refrigerator, I finally saw something that had definitely changed. Mikey had always sported a plumbers crack whenever he bent over because those narrow hips provided nothing for his pants to hold on to. He still had the crack, but the shape was different - highlighted by the presence of glutes. Not that I check out my friends' butts, it is just something you notice when someone bends over in front of you. When he stood up and turned around, I finally figured out why he looked healthier. He had a ruddiness about him. His chest and arms were a little bit more muscular than before and he filled out his shirt in more ways than just his gut. The normal movements that might have caused the shirt to ride up were stabilized a little by his chest sticking out. I did not really notice anything more for the next few weeks. Though, I confirmed the ruddiness by looking at previous pictures again. He definitely had slightly bulkier muscles than pictures from the last month and especially when compared to pictures more than three months old. One of the game nights he was happy to see me after a tough week and gave me a hug as a hello. It turned out that it was Mikey's birthday and I was happy to oblige. His slightly spikey hair brushed my chin. He had hugged me as a greeting or to say goodbye after events before and I always leaned over to pat him on the back. I tried to picture why I would lean over so much before when I was only a head taller. I just shrugged it off. At another game night, Mikey decided to wear one of his older shirts from his college days - it looked like it might have fit better fifty pounds ago. It was stretched pretty tight around his shoulders and chest. His arms caused the sleeves to roll up to the bottom of his delts which highlighted their round globular shape. He kept pulling on the shirt, but it would not go below his belly button. Without even bending over you could see his ass crack. But it had two mounds shoved into his pants. You could see that the waist on his pants was tight as it squeezed his glutes. He wanted to pull them up, but his belly wouldn't have it. At the next game night, he wore an even smaller shirt. In this one, his belly button was fully exposed. Depending on which way he turned and shadows hit him, you could see somewhat of a turtleshell pattern forming on the exposed skin. A couple of months later he must have finally gotten off his college clothes kick. His shirt was long enough, but still filled out at the chest, shoulders arms and gut. The following month, i could have sworn that he was wearing the same shirt. This time, it was just barely covering to the bottom of his belly. In addition, the seams at his shoulders looked a little frayed and even separated a little from moving around during the night. I stayed and chatted for a while to see how he was doing. After a couple of hours, it was late and I had to leave. Mikey decided to hug me goodbye. As his arms swung around behind me, both sleeves ripped. Mikey was surprised by the feeling and turned quickly. His noise bumped my chin, and both of us laughed about it. Something was bugging me about the sleeves ripping. Mikeys always had wide shoulders for as long as I had known him. He was the type of guy that always had his arm up on the seat next to him in a car or at a table - probably to make sure his shoulders were not intruding on someone else's space. So knowing his own body, why would he buy a shirt that is tight in the shoulders? I looked at all of the pictures over the past few months and found that he had relatively the same proportions in every one. It was quite odd. Two weeks later, Mikey turned at one point in the game. From my vantage, his chest was almost protruding out as much as his gut. When he turned back, the shirt pinched inbetween the pecs and stomach. I could then see that his pecs had become big globes. In addition another friend who was a former football player came by to play. He was sitting next to Mikey and across from me. Mikey's arms actually looked bigger. I am not sure how much bigger, but the stocky friend had to have measured at least 18 inches and upwards around 20 inches. It was tough for me to judge shorter people's arms since mine were over 18 inches and his looked bigger because of his shorter limbs. It was then that it dawned on my that Mikey was wearing a much bigger shirt than before and yet the arms were still highlighted by the tight sleeves. The tag was sticking up slightly and i was able to nonchalantly see that it was an XXXL. It is so funny how different manufacturers cut things. I wore XL at 270 and his 3x looked like it was a tad too small in some areas. As we were saying goodbye, I found myself staring straight at his hairline on his forehead. I thought i used to see the top of his head. But that couldn't be right. We had to cancel game night for a few weeks because of severe weather in the area. Mikey and i still chatted online. He said that he was still trying to trim his waistline but nothing was working. It was actually up ten inches from when he started. I sent him a couple of pictures showing comparisons and told him that he still looked the same but with bigger muscles. Whatever he was doing was working. That was encouraging enough to keep him going. =========== A couple weeks turned into a month. A month turned into over a half a year before I saw him again. You know how it is when you get out of the habit of doing something - the longer you put off doing it, the harder it becomes to do it again. He wanted to celebrate his birthday with me again. When he opened the door, we were looking at each straight in the eyes. He was wearing the same shirt from the last time (~7 months prior), although it totally shrunk in the wash. I smiled to myself thinking about how he needed to learn to hang his cotton shirts instead of drying with heat. That was something I learned a long time ago, #tallpeopleproblems. It was a wonder that Mikey hadn't figured it out considering we were the same height. Or actually, our eyes were level, but the top of his head was maybe 2 inches above mine. Mikey's neck was maybe half as long as mine and our shoulder were probably close to the same height. I immediately noticed that the sleeves on the shirt were gone and little tears were at the shoulders coming inward. The shirt was no longer stretched at the waist, although his gut still appeared to be the same proportion. The bottom of the shirt only reached to his belly button so i could definitely see the gut still there and it just barely protruded on the shirt hanging over it. Instead, the top of the shirt was painted on to his chest and hanging somewhat loosely down. It definitely was odd that the shirt shrunk in the dryer but still maintained the same waist. He gave a big smile and hello, with an emphatic hug just like at his last birthday. When he did this, the shoulder and trap movement forced the shirt to ride all the way up and wedge under his pecs, revealing the solid turtle shell underneath. You could slap that belly and there wouldn't even be a ripple. All that was left covered by the shirt was his chest. It looked like two volleyballs stuffed into a pillow case. Mikey didn't seem to notice that his shirt had ridden up as he turned to walk over to the couch. I had never seen his full back before - just his lower back from shirts riding up as he would bend over. That instance I got to see almost all of it. When the shirt had ridden up, it also wedged into his armpits. It wanted to take the path of least resistance and completely exposing his lats was much less strain than being pulled and stretched over. I was a little shocked at how much his back flared out from his waist. Isn't it funny how some fat people look like they have an incredible v-taper from the back? You would never expect that he had a big gut until he turned to the side or faced you. I looked down and chuckled at seeing his underwear exposed. His pants were always drooping somewhat, showing the plumber's crack and portions of his underwear. Even when he pulled up his pants in the past, they almost immediately fell back down again. In this case, he must not have even bothered pulling them up since the top of the pants were beneath his bubble butt. Didn't I say earlier that his narrow hips didn't give pants anything to hold on to? Why would I have thought that when his oversized glutes could have held them up. Briefly my brain also wondered whether he could even have pulled up the jeans since they looked completely stretched over his quads as it was. Looking down further, the jeans left a good 5 or 6 inches exposed from his ankle up his leg. The bottoms of the jean legs were stretched to the maximum below his calves. So that must be why he didn't try to pull them up - there was no way any more of his legs would even fit. I always preferred loose fitting khakis to jeans so I never run into that issue. You would think that 3/4 length jeans would have had wider legs. My gaze was drawn back up as I entered the house and shut the door behind me. His thighs forced him to roll each leg over each other as he walked. This cause his glute to completely flex and then bounce on top of his jeans with each step. The boxer briefs containing them did not cover all the way to the top. You could see the top 3 or 4 inches where the glutes inserted into his pelvis. The top of the boxer briefs stretched over the glutes didn't even make an indentation. Traveling further up I noticed something odd about his head. First off, I could not even see his neck since his traps rode all the way up to the base of his skull. Even the bottom of his hair line was distorted into 3D as it curved out on the the traps. But still there was something odd. I silently did that thing where you mimic taking a picture with your hands. I cropped out most of his body and just showed his head in my field of vision. It looked like it was almost double the size of my head. He always had a wider head that me from being overweight, but this was bigger in all directions. I lowered my hands and stopped walking. He turned around at the couch and noticed me staring quizzically. He asked me what was up. I took a moment to consider the previous pictures I had looked at. His head was exactly the same proportion to his body as always. In fact, his entire body looked exactly the same in proportion except for the increased muscle mass. I cannot even remember exactly what I replied with, but it was something about how he looked good with more mass even though he was having trouble shrinking his stomach. Just from the increased muscles, it already gave the illusion of a smaller gut. He got a big grin on his face and patted his stomach. My earlier assumption turned out to be correct, it did not even jiggle slightly. Mikey did, however, feel that his shirt had ridden up. He exhaled fully and sucked in his gut to pull down his shirt - the way normal people do when they are trying on pants that are obviously too small. When he did this, his entire stomach tightened into corrugated muscles. His obliques popped out through the skin, perfectly framing a massive brick wall of abs. They were the most spectacularly shredded abs I had ever seen, which is quite a sight on someone trying to trim their waistline. His abdomen tightened so much that it was easily smaller than my 39" waist. He held that pose for a good 30 seconds struggling to pull the shirt out from under his armpits and pecs. Each motion sent shockwaves through the tightly flexed muscles. By the time he finally got the shirt pulled out, his waist looked like it was 2 or 3 inches smaller than a few seconds ago just from being tensed so much. He let the air rush back into his lungs and released the tension in his abdomen. Without actually taking measurements, his full sized gut also looked slightly smaller than when I first walked in. Actually, his gut wasn't even pressed up against the shirt anymore and the fabric just completely hung off of his pecs. Mikey crashed down into the sofa seat, a tad winded from the struggle and holding his breath. Finally, I got a visual on his gut again in the seated position otherwise I would have exclaimed that it magically vanished. I sat down beside him on the couch. Or a better description would be that he took up one and a half sofa cushions and I sat on the third one. He put his arm up on the back of the sofa like he always did and his hand stretched out reached almost past me on the other side. I also realized that he was basically sitting on the couch in his boxer briefs since his pants were not pulled up, but it was his couch so he could do whatever he wanted. Spurred on by what I just witnessed, I talked to him about doing stomach vacuums to help exercise the core. I also mentioned that they usually help shrink the waist by a few inches. He accepted the proposition and promised that he would try it out. The rest of the night was fairly uneventful - we watched a movie, played some video games and drank a few beers (me only a couple early on since I would be driving later on). Every breath and movement he took during the night, made the shirt creep up again. It made it up under his pecs and armpits about halfway through the evening. By then, he had had too many beers to notice or care. Game Nights Part 2 - Wardrobe Limitations One thing I haven't mentioned so far is that Mikey and I both worked from our homes. I had a small home business run out of my tiny apartment and he did hourly work dealing with global supply shipping and logistics. He moved into a new house before I started wanting to get healthy. It was actually on his moving day that I got inspired and then mentioned it a couple of weeks later. I heard that his housing community had a gym in it, and just assumed that Mikey was working out there. Working from home, he rarely went out (especially after trying to get healthy). Anything he wanted, he would just order it online and get it delivered. That was probably one of the reasons that his clothing never seemed to fit exactly right, because he would not have tried it on before buying. After the birthday, it was another 9 months before I saw Mikey again - just around his two year anniversary in the house. After much coaxing from me, he finally started up game nights again. I got pretty lucky with traffic heading over to Mikey's house. I also left earlier than normal in my eagerness. I wound up arriving 45 minutes before our scheduled time. I knew that he would just be getting off from work. I texted en route and let him know that I would just chill out while he did whatever he had to do. I was shocked when he opened the door in just his boxer briefs. He had a towel in his other hand and was rubbing his hair to dry it more. He had just gotten out of the shower and had not known about the text. My eye level was a little above mid-pec. The left pec was stretched upward connected to his arm drying off his hair. The right pec was just a huge and round - soccer ball? no... basketball? no... Maybe a smaller sized yoga ball would be about right for a description. I took a step back from the door to get a better overall view. His proportions were a little bit off. Obviously the enlarged pecs were a change, but I mean the head-to-shoulder-to-waist width-to-hip width proportions. His hips still had that narrower than they should be look to them. His shoulders were definitely wider, but that could just be from the bowling balls stuffed into them. His waist width looked comparably about the same as before. I guess the proportions were about the same and the increased overall mass just gave an illusion. He looked at me with a little bit of concern and asked what was wrong. I shook my head and told him that he was looking really good and I just wanted to take it all in. He just smiled and laughed, stepping to the side to let me in. Even with him to the side, I had to maneuver a bit to get through the door before he closed it behind me. As I walked into the room, I finally realized what was so off with his proportions. He had the proportions of a short guy - where his torso was longer than his legs. It was quite odd since he had at least 15 inches in height on me. His legs looked like they were a tad shorter than mine, but his torso was where he made up a foot plus of the height difference. Then his big ol' head - that I noticed 9 month prior - gave him another 6 or so inches in height. Before I turned back to him, I mentioned that I totally saw a difference and he was definitely making a dent in his waist. It was not that he was lean or shredded or anything, just that his gut was not protruding like it used to. Mikey got really excited and told me to take a seat. He tossed the towel to the side and put both arms above his head and exhaled. His entire stomach sucked in and even went upwards into his ribcage. He lowered his hands slowly and felt around his stomach. He got a look of concentration on his face and expanded his ribcage a bit to suck in the stomach even more. After feeling around again, he smiled - satisfied with what he imagined it looked like from practicing in front of the mirror. He turned to the side to give a better view. With the ribcage contorted, his pecs jutted out at least 2 and a half feet from his stomach. From this angle, the one visible pec totally looked like a ball. From his collar bone, the pec went up past his chin and curved all the way around below the top of his stomach before curving back up to his ribcage. Just like my previous commentary about how his stomach did not hang, neither did his pecs. I could not even fathom how those things defied gravity like that. Superior genetics, I suppose. Mikey was still on the stocky side even with his core/stomach exercises. It wasn't like his stomach depth was close to zero like you see on completely ripped and lean bodybuilders. With his stomach sucked in, he still had a bit under two feet from back to front. Part of that was his incredibly thick lower back muscles. I guessed with pecs like those, the lower back would grow thick out of necessity. His lats and traps flared out of his backside. If I had to guess, from his back to the pecs, it had to be four feet - maybe even closer to five feet in depth. That meant his upper torso was almost 3 times as thick as his lower torso at that moment. His lower half (i.e. less than half) was equally as impressive. Now I had said that Mikey opened the door in his boxer briefs, but that is not an adequate description. His legs basically gave zero opportunity to have boxer briefs pulled down. I could imagine that even if he had tried, they would immediately roll up on his legs. So at that point, his boxer briefs looked smaller that trunks and maybe a tad bigger than regular briefs. He had a good five inches of his glute exposed above the waistband, similar to last time, and a third of his ass was hanging out the bottom of his boxer brief "legs". At least he did make an attempt to cover his butt before answering the door. Those things could easily have turned into a thong if not positioned right. With his bubble butt sticking out over a foot from his lower back, he could tear any undergarment if he wasn't careful putting it on. As indicated, his quads looked like they were 3 feet in diameter and would not have allowed for the boxer brief legs to be pulled down. Mikey turned back facing me. My mind raced was with all of these proportions I attempted to calculate. But all of that shut down when I came to the realization that Mikey's legs were much bigger than his waist. From the front they looked about the same width, but from the side, back to front, his stomach was under 2 feet while his legs looked over 3. Shaken a little, I pushed all of those thoughts out of my head. I hadn't been counting, but it had been at least a few minutes since Mikey had started flexing. I muttered something about him having to breath. He put up a finger in a "one moment" sort of gesture. He then lifted both hands up above his head again and crunched down. He still had the vacuum sucking in any exposed skin, but abdominal muscle filled in almost all of the space in an explosion of power. While nine months ago, exhaling made his stomach look corrugated, this was light years beyond that. I couldn't even see the linea alba as it was pulled in so far from the vacuum that no light was reaching it. In between each ab separation, there were a few inch deep grooves. I would say that you could have grabbed on to then with your hand, but each ab itself was like a 24 ounce steak. Possibly you could stretch your hand to each side, but there is no way you could grip it. Normally when someone flexes during a vacuum, you just see the abs pop, but Mikey's obliques also showed up for the party. With skin stretched over top of them, it looked like someone was scoring a piece of meat with a knife for even cooking. Even the space between the abs and obliques was pulled all the way in like the lines alba. I surmised that I could fit most of my hand into those caverns and probably get up to my wrist in the lines alba. After twisting from side to side and maneuvering into different positions for a minute, Mikey finally let go and started breathing again. He wasn't even gasping for air or breathing heavy, it was like that took no effort at all. I had to know how all of that was possible. Mikey was happy to talk about it and plopped down on the sofa next to me. I was almost launched out of my seat when he did that. Luckily, he put up his arm in his normal style (giving me enough space to stay there). His narrow hips took up less than two couch cushions, but his shoulder width would easily take up the entire thing by himself. His hand hung off the far side of the couch and his bicep propped up my head some like a pillow. I was about to say something, but Mikey continued with his tale. He told me about how he started doing stomach vacuums after his birthday. At first he could only do it for about 10 seconds and the strain would wind him. After 9 months, he could hold his breath for 12 minutes doing the vacuum. With taking a deep breath, he had managed to reach about 30 minutes. He said that usually while working he would just hold his breath without actually timing anything. Mikey would alternate between taking a breath and doing a vacuum for most of the day. He estimated that a moment ago he had only flexed for about five minutes. I also wondered about how he had such shredded abs without any veins. Mikey furrowed his brow and mentioned that he still held about 35% body fat. If my jaw could unhinge, it would have hit the floor and burrowed a few feet into the ground. That absolutely mind blowing abdominal display with a hand deep groove in-between was done at 30+% body fat. That was another avenue that I had to push out of my mind before getting overwhelmed. As we continued talking, I noticed that Mikey had gone back into a vacuum. He was using minimal breaths to speak and kept everything sucked in. He started talking about how not breathing actually increases testosterone. That is why some of those celebrities died while suffocating themselves, because the increased testosterone leads to heightened arousal. Instead of torturing himself, Mikey opted for just learning how to hold his breath. That insight certainly accounted for his increased muscle mass in his pecs and shoulders. It was nearly an hour before I realized we should start playing games. Mikey was still in the same vacuum pose. As we set up the game, Mikey explained that taking shallow breaths, he could keep the pose almost indefinitely. We joked about it and I bet him that he couldn't keep it up for the rest of the night. He took that bet and immediately vacuumed again. He kept flexing and unflexing his abs the entire game just to distract me. Close up, I noted something interesting about his obliques. They stuck out from his pelvis almost like handlebars. To the untrained eye, they would be called love-handles. However Mikey's were solid and had the shredded look that obliques can get at low body fat percentages (????? I know, right?). From those handle bars, they actually curved inward before flaring out to the ribcage. It certainly gave the appearance that his waist was smaller now than before. I asked him about it and he took on a forlorn look on his face. He sadly noted that his waist was bigger now than before. I could not offer a good explanation. He clearly had shrunk his waist just from the vacuums. It did not make any sense why he would have gained a few inches. We kept playing and chatting well into the night. Sometime after midnight, Mikey lost his concentration and couldn't hold his vacuum any longer and conceded defeat. With that, I decided to take my win and head home. I did applaud his effort in holding a vacuum for somewhere around 5 hours straight. I didn't mention it, but his waist was absolutely smaller than when I arrived earlier. At the door, Mikey asked me what I wanted since I won the bet. I looked him up and down and told him next time to put some cloths on. Mikey looked down at his bare chest (obviously not able to see past it) and blushed profusely. He apologized 20 times before finally closing the door behind me. Over the next couple of weeks of game nights, Mikey taught me more about what he was learning on stomach vacuums and waistline reduction. Things were going great until we had to cancel few times in a row and fell out of habit again. =========== Less than three months later we were both eager to get back into it because Mikey's birthday had come around again. The door opened to me staring at the lower side of Mikey's pecs. I looked up and only saw pecs going on forever. Mikey kneeled on the floor, but that didn't help - darn his shorter than they should be legs. He got all the way down to a pushup position and I could finally see his face in-between the massive mounds of his pecs and traps. Not like his face was small. It looked 4 times as wide as my own face and twice as tall. Even if I was over 9 feet tall like Mikey, looking towards his face would still be half obscured by his pecs. I chuckled a little because in his pushup position, the top of his head was about as tall as me. He laughed too (although probably not knowing the reason for mine) and gave me a big welcome. Once inside, we went to hug since it was a birthday tradition. I got bumped away by his legs. He tried to lean over and I was almost shoved to the floor by his pecs. Wait, hadn't we hugged before? We both had confused looks on our faces, although we couldn't see each other. I decided to just bend over his legs and grab on to his obliques since there was no possible way I could get around his waist. Hey, I was right, his obliques were like handle bars - except really meaty as if I was holding on to big rolls of salami at a deli counter. He chuckled and reached under his pecs to pat me on the back. I let go and slid my way out from under his pecs. Obviously he was wearing clothing this time or I wouldn't have tried that... probably. Calling it clothing was somewhat of a joke though. He had on some leggings that basically looked like a second skin. They could not have been any tighter. In fact, they were so stretched that you could see Mikey's skin in a couple of places in the right light. His "shirt" was a string tank with such long strings that it barely covered the bottom half of his stomach (although a lot of the top half was already covered by pecs). We pretty much dove straight into movies and video games after that. I won't bore you with all of the details from that night. Mikey took the couch by himself. He was just barely able to fit onto it. I did not understand why he would have bought that brand in the first place if it was that small for him. It was better having me on the floor or grabbing one of the dining room chairs. If Mikey had sat on the floor, he would have completely blocked my vision. I was a little taller than his torso and head if I had been standing up, but his ass and legs propped him up by another 3 feet. There would have been no use trying to go to either side because the caps on his shoulders were almost 3 times as wide as the sofa from tip to tip. One nice thing to note was that after years of trying, he had finally gotten his waist under his hip measurement while vacuumed. He told me how confusing it was because his waist had actually gained quite a few inches over the past few months but somehow his hips gained more - most likely from those salami obliques. Games nights surprisingly lasted for most of that year. Every once in a while we would cancel, but we kept up the habit. It went back to me not noticing changes in his muscular or gut development since we were seeing each other every week. Game Nights Part 3 - The Release *NOTE: This part does include some sexual themes. Fair warning in case you do not like that sort of stuff. By the end of the year, we got busy with the holidays and such. We had vowed to celebrate his birthday again in a few months. By then, we were both eager to get back into it. The door opened to me staring at Mikey's crotch. It was covered by one of those sheath underwear styles. The sheath and rest of the briefs were forced upward by his quads. The pouch was resting in a little bed created by the protruding muscles. The sheath was draped over top, cascading over the muscles and down a little. I looked up and his turtle ridged boulder of a gut filled the doorway. I leaned in a little and just saw pecs blocking anything above. I said a hello with an obvious question mark at the end. Mikey tried getting down into a pushup position again and I could see his hair obscured by the massive pecs jutting out from the pose. Even in this position, the top of his pecs were still a couple of feet above my head. Finally, Mikey just completely plopped down on to the floor and looked up (looking straight at me from my view). My head was finally above his, but his traps and lats still stuck out far enough to be taller than me. His head was gigantic from this frame of reference. His nose alone was getting close to the size of my entire head. I probably could have climbed into his mouth if he stretched his jaw a little. I wouldn't have been able to get all the way inside, at least up to my waist, though. The thought of this brought a little smirk to my face. Once inside, we went for a traditional birthday hug. I tried to grab at his obliques again, but they were far out of reach. I told him I had an idea and dove on top of his legs. I grabbed on to the only thing I could find, the sheath underwear. It was difficult to hold since it was soft and bigger than my hands could grip around, but the fabric gave me something to hang on to. I used it to mountain climb up his legs. I then reached his gut which blocked my way from getting completely on top of the mountains. And I could not keep climbing since I was faced with a ceiling made out of pecs right above my head. He understood what I was trying to do and said he could help with it. He then performed his vacuum pose that he had been practicing for a couple of years now. Mikey's ribcage jutted out and lifted up his pecs, finally giving my head some room. His gut completely sucked in and up into his ribcage. I was able to climb into the cave and comfortably kneel on top of his legs inside of the space. If he managed a little bit more, I might even be able to stand. I tossed my climbing rope aside and went to try to hug him. That turned out as easy as hugging a brick wall. Feeling what I was doing, he exclaimed a quick apology and flexed his abdomen. I felt like I got hit by a car as I was catapulted away. Luckily my climbing rope was close by and I was able to quickly grab on before flying out and probably smashing into a wall. Mikey obviously felt the movement but could not figure out what was going on. Determined to do that hug, I scaled up again, entered the cave and dove into the abs. I remember thinking at some point when I saw him vacuum that I could stick part of my hand into the groove between his obliques and abs. I was wrong, I got up to my elbow. I was actually able to feel the space behind abs and almost touch my fingers inside of his stomach cavity. He put his hand on my back and gently pressed me into his abs to reciprocate the hug. Before descending again, I reached in-between his ab columns. I got up to my shoulder and still couldn't feel the end of the tunnel. Also curious about something else, I scooted back a little and reached up towards his pecs. I easily slid my hand in between the two. It was hot and slick in there. With the pecs jammed up against each other all of the time, he must just build up body heat and sweat like crazy. I reached my other hand in and continued to stand. Once my head entered, the entire world went dark and silent. It was like those movies where a bomb goes off and they mute the volume for a couple of minutes for effect. All light and sound vanished except I could hear Mikey's heart beat pulsing through the muscle tissue. By the time I got to my waist, my hands were feeling the deep crevice at the top. When I was fully standing up on his legs, my head reached fresh air again. I felt like I was in a funnel. Directly in front of me, was the top of his sternum, leading to his neck. In all other directions were pecs jutting upward. Mikey craned his neck and looked down as best he could. Think about trying to look at the bottom of your neck to see a cut or a mole or something. Now picture that mole as being a person almost 1/3 of your height shimmying up through your pec cleavage. He grinned and said hey but it was a cross between a croak and a whisper since he was holding his breath. The vibrations from his voice box were almost overwhelming - If continued for an extended period of time in that position, I would have disintegrated. As for getting face-to-face time with Mikey, I figured this was as good as it would get. Nonchalantly, I started just telling him about work and where my company was going. It was pretty much a one sided conversation, though he did nod and croak a few one word responses. I must have been fairly comfortable standing with his pecs holding me up, because we maintained that position for a good 30 minutes. I didn't even realize how fast the time had flown, and wanted to allow Mikey to breath again - though he seemed perfectly content. I began to adjust my footing to determine which would be easier, going up or back down. Diving through the pecs even came to mind, but I did not know where I would land once I came out. I managed to start turning myself around and found a mound of flesh that gave me some traction. As I continued turning and stepped, I heard (and felt) a rumble emanating from Mikey's chest. When I had turned myself completely around, I realized that I must have stepping on the underwear's pouch and the fabric was why it was easier to maneuver on. I tried to adjust where I was stepping but it was too late. Mikey's pecs squeezed a little bit harder and I knew it would be impossible to get out. Mikey slowly started to gyrate his hips and I could feel my feet be rubbed back and forth over the underwear pouch. My climbing rope solidified into a pole and started to rise up. The solid surface gave me something better to stand on and I began pushing with all of my strength but only managed to get a few inches higher. My attempt made the rumble grow in strength. I heard a whack and felt a ripple through his pecs in front of me. The space between the pecs started to part and I silently cheered that I would be free again. This turned out not to be completely wrong. Instead, the sheath fabric entered my space and the pecs closed in behind it. The top of the underwear was around my chin. While before, my climbing rope was bigger than both of my hand wrapped around it, it had grown to be larger than my torso. Realizing what might be coming, I really began to scramble to get out, pushing with my feet at the base of the sheath and pulling down on the fabric in front of my with my hands. Thinking that I would use the fabric to be able to climb up again was another incorrect assumption. All I managed to do was make the sheath harder and wedge me in more. I kept struggling and it became like quicksand where everything I did made it more difficult to escape. I started to get crushed in-between sternum, pecs and underwear. I never would have imagined saying that sentence before or ever again. I couldn't breath. The world was beginning to turn dim. With everything I had left, I pushed at the base with my legs since that had worked originally, knowing full well that it would accomplish nothing. Mikey bucked a few times while I was doing this and thick cream began to ooze out of the top. It didn't spray or shoot any where because fabric. I began blacking out as a warm feeling crept up my neck. A jolt shocked me out of it - Mikey still hadn't taken a breath in 45 minutes. And, oh my gosh, I can't breath and am going to drown. The cream was still being produced. It started pooling in the crater that I now lived in. Mikey's pecs relaxed a little bit and I no longer felt the life being crushed out of me. However, the cream was quickly passing my nose and almost my eyes. I hadn't taken a breath in well over 2 minutes and that was without training, scrambling in fear and almost blacking out from being crushed. I tried to move with whatever strength I could muster, but it was no use, any place I tried to move my hands was too slick to get any traction. Everything below my shoulders was still pinned, anyway. I quickly found myself fully submerged and the level was still rising. I would have thrashed about, but I had no strength left and no direction I could thrash in. My chest started hurting from holding my breath. My diaphragm started convulsing up and down, screaming for me to fill my lunges with air. All that was left was giving in. I just relaxed - resigned to my fate now - and let the liquid into my lunges. Minutes went by before I realized that I was not dead. I couldn't see anything. There's wasn't any air. Was that not death? I took a deep breath. That wasn't air that entered my lunges, but at the same time I no longer felt like I was drowning. In fact, I felt better than I had in any recent memories. Just then, something hit me in the back of my head. I felt the same thing hit my hands a couple of times and then swivel around my head a bunch. Finally my vision cleared some and I was able to wipe my eyes. The object was Mikey's tongue. He couldn't reach everywhere, but did manage to get my head and hands. The bottom half of my face was still submerged and the fabric was still producing cream, albeit at a slower pace. Mikey croaked to get that, then paused and croaked a please. It was definitely coming out at a quick enough pace to submerge me completely once more in another minute. I leaned my head forward and began to breath through the fabric. Doing this caused Mikey to start bucking again before the production started to go faster than it had originally. I compensated by breathing quicker and much deeper. When it started to slow after around 10 minutes, again Mikey began bucking and it became even faster. It kept happening a countless number of times. Each time was faster than the previous one. I do not know how I kept up, but I did. Finally it slowed up until it stopped. I breathed in everything that was around me, using my hands to scoop things up. I even scraped down Mikey's skin and my own clothing. I was a little bit disappointed when I had to breath air again. I felt the world shift as Mikey sat on his sofa. I never understood why he had bought such a small sofa. I couldn't see it, but knew that Mikey would be hanging off both ends. He croaked a question asking if I was ok. I tilted my head all the way back and could see the exhaustion on his face. I attempted to respond but all that came out was the sound of someone trying to talk under water. I waved at him and tried to push on the sheath. He nodded and spread his arms out and as far back as he could go. That was enough for the sheath and me to get dislodged. The sheath was still hard, but slowly becoming softer. I rode it down like an elevator and got off at the floor. I coughed a few times to clear my throat before being able to talk. I quickly exclaimed that Mikey had to breath. He finally took in a deep breath and was breathing heavy for a few minutes after. I asked him why he wasn't breathing before and he said that my feet would have been crushed where they were. That made sense. I thanked him for allowing me to continue to walk, with a chuckle. Although, I found myself standing on bare feet. I had come in with sandals on, but they must have gotten lost somewhere in there. I certainly wasn't going back to find them. I asked him how he managed to hold his breath for an hour. He told me about how when he made himself calm, and the testosterone started being produced from holding his breath, he could go for around two hours. He said it was like something inside of him still allowed oxygen absorption or that it replaced the need for oxygen. He looked over at the clock and gestured. I glanced at it and saw that it was 3 AM. Mikey was standing there with me standing on him for over 8 hours. He just smiled and said that he knew he had to do it and somehow managed to get past his previous record of 2 hours. He then got a solemn look on his face and thanked me. It was a genuine heartfelt thanks - I had never seen him with such a serious look on his face and knew that he really meant it. He said that for the past three years, he was unable to "do the deed" and in fact couldn't get it up in the slightest. During any diet or exercise routine he could not focus on it at all and needed some release from the tensions of work and life. He felt like he was exploding for all of that time and I never knew about it. After 50+ times tonight, he felt like he could finally breath again (pun intended). Game Nights Part 4 - My Turn After chatting for close to another hour, I decided to head home. I looked at my clothes and they were not in good shape. When I had looked at my bare feet before, were my clothes in this condition? I shook my head to clear my thoughts because I was actually having trouble seeing my feet under my pecs. I had to bend over way more than usual, but that was causing some light headedness. Over the past few years, I actually had kept up with working out and attempting to maintain a good diet (attempted, but not exactly succeeded). I was not as pear shaped as I had been before Mikey's moving day. My hips were still on the larger side, but at least my shoulders were a bit wider. In the previous few months, I had started gaining somewhat of a V-taper. With the wide hips, it formed a little bit of an X-shape or maybe you would call it more of an hour-glass shape, but that was much better than a pear. I was hovering around 20% body fat, so I did not have visible abs and a little bit of a gut. My pecs were always the hardest to get to respond, but I guessed I had made more progress than I originally thought. I asked Mikey if he had any old clothes I could borrow since I did not look so hot with dried sweat (among other things) and ripped clothing covering my body. Even if they didn't fit it was fine since I just needed to get home. After eight hours of standing there and experiencing all of that, I felt ready to explode and really needed to bang one out (but not in a million years at my friend's house). Mikey said that he still had some older clothes in his office closet. I went upstairs to check out what I could find and just threw my shirt and pants into the trash. There was a nice 3xl shirt in there. I started to put that on, but I couldn't even get my arms in there. My memories of Mikey wearing that shirt and how the manufacturer's cut was wrong flickered. I also found that one frayed t-shirt and jeans he had on a couple of birthdays ago. I held it up and wondered how he ever fit into that. I also pulled out the pair of jeans. Even though I remembered them being short on him, they should have been gigantic on me since he was over 15 feet tall, right? I pulled on the shirt and laughed at the torn sleeves. The little tears at the shoulders were growing a little bit more inwards while I was looking at myself in the next door bathroom mirror - that was odd. Pulled down, the shirt didn't even reach to my belly button and it was completely stretch at my chest to the point of being slightly see through. I looked like two cheese wheels somehow managing to fit into a spandex knee brace. Without a rounded gut like Mikey's, the shirt did not roll up. It was basically form fitting over top of my flared out lats and ended around the middle of my "hour glass". It wanted to take the path of least resistance and staying in place made less strain than rolling up would have. With the shirt ending right at my stomach's mid-point, it totally highlighted my nice v-taper that I was getting. I nodded in approval. I slapped my small gut hard as a salute to my nice bulges everywhere. It jiggled a little. I attempted one of Mikey's vacuums in the mirror. I exhaled fully and sucked in my stomach. I was taken aback that my stomach tightened as much as it did and actually made the shirt hang loosely from my ribcage in the front. Corrugated muscles popped out all over the landscape. My obliques were absolutely massive - a pear shaped advantage to the apple's narrow hips. Proportionally, they were definitely bigger than Mikeys, though his would be comparably longer because of his longer torso:leg ratio. My abs were not as shredded looking as Mikey's, and they had big globular shapes to them. It was interesting that Mikey's abs at 35% body fat looked a little bit better when flexed. His big ball gut must have been incredibly dense. I found holding my breath to be somewhat easier given the 5 minutes or so that I was forced to hold it earlier and then around 8 hours of not breathing any air. I ran through some different angles and poses that I had seen Mikey do with his vacuum. Each motion sent shockwaves through the tensely flexed muscles. Sucked in like that it wasn't too shabby and spurred me to work on my waist a little more once I got home. When I released, I did not feel winded. My gut even looked slightly flatter than a few minutes prior. I attempted to adjust the shirt a little, but it wasn't having any of that with my pecs straining it up top. I looked at my underwear and it was so tight that it resembled a thong. That was so weird, I did not remember wearing a thong to come to my friend's house. I tried to pull the pants on, but couldn't even get close. Things stopped around midway up my thighs because it was just getting too wide. This left my big muscular bubble shaped glutes - with a thong squeezed in-between - fully hanging out. I tried pulling from the bottom, but that was useless. The cuffs on the bottom left 6 inches exposed from my ankle up my leg. A few inches up from there, the lower part of the pant legs were completely wedged into my calves. I realized that I wouldn't be able to get these jean shorts up to the knee. Or were they more like daisy dukes - they looked short enough that they wouldn't even cover to mid thigh if I could have pulled them up to my waist. I took off the jeans and felt ripping near my armpits. The little tears started pulling apart, running down my lats on both side. Immediately after, the center of the shirt split at the collar and around my pecs. I was not entirely surprised given how tight the shirt was when I had put it on. A wave of something between euphoria and nausea overtook me. I felt like my time was running short and I needed to get home immediately. I was about to pop like that shirt just did. I went back into the office just as my thong burst free. I didn't even care, though. I just opened the closet and grabbed the first thing that I saw. There was a big piece of fabric on the floor. I picked it up and quickly looked it over. The logo was the same that I remembered from around a year and a half ago. It was that pair of underwear Mikey was wearing after his shower. I would never in a million years wear someone else's underwear, but this was a special million and one circumstance. I just needed to get home. I knew that the underwear would be way too big for me, but I could just use a belt. Wait, my belt. I fished through the trash and found that my belt was a little torn, but still usable. I threw on the underwear and started wrapping the belt around my waist. Except, it did not fit around my waist. It barely even fit across my back. It must have been torn in half during all of the events of the night. I tossed the belt back into the trash and realized that I didn't even need it. I must have been mistaken about the boxer briefs being from over a year ago. I went back into the bathroom since I had trouble seeing what was going on any more without a mirror. Those boxer briefs were definitely too small even for me. They were completely wedged up between my legs and constricting my groin. I turned to the side and saw that they were completely wedged up my ass, looking like a thong. What was with underwear looking like thongs tonight? I tried to pull it out of my crack, but it was like stretching a rubber band. It kept snapping back to the same position. After one last attempt, the boxer briefs shredded on both sides. I had to crouch down to pull out the mega wedgie they had left in their wake. I got a huge head rush again leaning over like that and felt like I was going to hurl or blow. Nothing happened, and I shockingly was not even hard at that point. The snapped briefs went into the trash, too. They looked like they were much bigger on the floor in the closet. In the trash they seemed incredibly tiny. I found Mikey's leggings from last year and started pulling them on as I walked back to the bathroom. I had to step back to take it all in. The leggings were completely see through from all angles. They were stretched so thin that I was shocked they hadn't just shredded apart. There was no way they would have lasted until I got home - they weren't concealing anything anyway. I peeled them off and checked out the brand name. I thought about getting a pair that fits later on since they seemed to be pretty high quality and durable. Still stark naked, I peeked my head around the corner, looking down the staircase. Mikey was dozing on the couch. His back was propped up against the wall and his head wasn't going anywhere with his pecs keeping it in place. I darted down the steps and into his bedroom to find some of his bigger clothes. I would have worn a tent at that point, I didn't care. I found his underwear drawer, so it must have been a million and two circumstance. Even with his three years abstinent claim, I completely avoided the few sheath style briefs that I found. There was no circumstance where my sword should fit into someone else's sheath. He did have a few large pouch spandexy things. I grabbed one and put it on, holding the top so they wouldn't fall down. I looked into his closet for some type of pants. I found a pair of shorts that an elephant would probably wear. It was good enough. I could just tie them up somehow. I checked to make sure Mikey was still asleep before darting back upstairs to the other bathroom. Quick in and out, I did not want Mikey to find me in his master bedroom or bathroom as I was already over the line for invasion of privacy (going through and wearing his underwear, as an example). As I neared the top of the steps, my heart was racing from running room to room, up and down steps. Another wave completely overtook me and I dropped to my hand and knees (the other hand still holding the shorts and underwear up). I started panting for air and moaning. The pain and pleasure rushing through my head was all that I could think about. I was basically at the point of orgasm for however many minutes I was frozen there. When it finally allowed some of my senses to return, one of the first things I realized was that I was still on the staircase. I used the moment of lucidity to crawl to the top and out of Mikey's field of view. I plopped down on the landing and felt around the front of the shorts for a wet spot. They were completely dry except for a bit of moisture from sweat. I felt a great deal of sorrow for my friend downstairs. If that was anything like what he had been experiencing for the past few years, I would have gone crazy. Still mostly enthralled, I got myself together enough to stand up and head to the bathroom. Approaching the mirror, my gaze was drawn to my legs. My thighs were big enough to force me to roll each leg over each other as I walked. I could even feel my glutes flexing and bouncing with each step. I let go of the shorts and underwear and they stayed in place. I always thought that mens shorts looked stupid because they never seemed to be shaped correctly. Then, when they would hang from the person's waist, the inside or the outside edges always seemed to ride up. These shorts sat below my hip bone and formed perfectly around my quads. I was a bit surprised that being a little more than a foot shorter than Mikey, I could fill out his short this well. The design on them had a lighter color in the middle and dark lines going from the center waistband to the outside edges of my legs. Just the design alone and how it drew my eyes made my hips seem small and my quads gigantic. I could definitely have gotten used to having a better image of myself in a mirror. Did I not have a good opinion of my reflection before? Turning to the side, my glutes perfectly filled out the back of the shorts and it really accentuated the shape. I wasn't able to pull them completely up to my hips for fear of ripping them over my ass, which left a good 6 inches of my glutes visible. My eyes trailed upwards. You know how models are down in the sub-7% body fat range to get their abs to pop, yet someone like Derek Poundstone has visible abs at 15%? The more muscle you have, the more body fat you can have and still show definition. Someone like Mikey at 35% body fat had big and bulbous muscles, giving them all a very rounded look instead of a cut and defined look. While I looking at myself in the mirror, I could have sworn that I had magically dropped under 10% body fat. My abs were these wide bricks stacked on top of each other. The top four were the only ones separated from the pack, with two columns bordering my belly button going down. However, I did not have any visible veins popping up - meaning I was at least 20% body fat, still. I imagined looking up a definition of bear mode in the dictionary and seeing my picture. My pecs showed a nice cut down the middle and a separation near the top at the upper chest. My torso was just thick all the way down (still curved inwards at my waist). My hips looked like hams were shoved in there with a massive adonis belt that joined forces with the ab columns to stretch the front of the shorts unnecessarily. My lats pushed my arms forward by about 20 degrees and to the side by 30 degrees. Unfortunately my smaller proportioned arms and shoulders looked completely eclipsed by what was going on in the middle. If you chopped off my arms, they would look quite impressive on their own. I seemed to remember that I had gotten my arms up to 19 inches, but these were clearly past 40 or 50 inches. It was a shame that they got outshined by everything else. I could feel another wave washing over my brain and just mumbled about how it would have to do without a shirt. I shut off the lights in the bathroom and office before quickly making my way back down stairs. If I let it overtake me again, I could not foresee how long I would be debilitated. Game Nights Part 5 - Finally Some Clarity Mikey was still dozing on the couch when I came downstairs. I woke him to let him know that I was leaving. I wanted to make sure that he locked up behind me - you never know when a robber might take advantage of an unlocked door and overpower you. He groggily smiled and stood up to give me a hug goodbye. I looked down at his legs, expecting to have to scale mountains. But we were the same height, weren't we? What was I doing when we first hugged last night? I looked at my hand and then at his chest cleavage. Wasn't I reaching up into his pecs with my whole arm before? My thoughts were interrupted as he reached me and we hugged. Since i was a taller, i just maneuvered my pecs a little and we were able to pat each other on the back. I held him for a moment remembering that the last time we managed to hug normally seemed like it was a few years ago. That thought too was interrupted as he was asleep again with face on my pecs. I just held him there for a few minutes, gently rubbing his back. That was quite an ordeal he had tonight and indeed over the previous three years. I scooped him up in my arms and brought him to his back patio. He was heavy, but one of the benefits of being over a foot taller and wider was that he was small enough to carry. The back patio was a nice enclosed space. He had a quadruple sized reinforced hammock that he would sleep on when it was nice out. However the hammock did not look big, maybe it was a regular size and I was mistaken about it being larger. I laid him in there gently and lit his firepit. It was a nicely designed space, with ventilation for the firepit to keep you warm without smoking you out, and a cool cross breeze to give you fresh air. As I was lighting the pit, I heard a long rip and the shorts fell from my waist, split in half. I sighed and picked them up off of the patio floor. I got another head rush as I bent over and the micro modal fabric of the large pouched underwear was almost immediately straining in response. I decided to stay until he woke up just to make he was ok. That meant it turned into a million and three circumstance because I could not hang around without getting some relief. I went into his master bathroom because it had an oversized shower stall. I was past caring about invasion of privacy, I knew instinctively that I wouldn't have even made it home in that state. In the bathroom, Just turning on the water started making me harder. I wasn't even done adjusting the temperature when the micro modal underwear just exploded off of me - that stuff was was supposed to be super stretchy. Temperature be damned, this was happening regardless of hot or cold. I jumped into the stall and started shooting before the door closed behind me. Imagining having to clean up an eight hour mess if this was going to be anything like Mikey earlier, I decided to just "self clean" so to speak. Out of habit, I breathed in as opposed to swallowing. Luckily my pecs were much more manageable than Mikey's and I could reach my head to breath in on my own. Since I was already in the shower, I decided to clean myself. I still had residues from the various events earlier in the night. It was quite interesting washing myself in the shower with my head(s) locked in place. It took a good hour for one load, but luckily did not continue afterwards. It would have been awkward shooting again (and again and again and again) like Mikey had. I wasn't stopped up for three years like he had been, either. I finished rinsing and turned off the shower. I mouthed a curse when I realized that I had never searched for a towel. I just shook my head and let myself drip dry for a few minutes. My head was finally clearing and I could use the time to think. I had come in with sandals on and then lost them somewhere on Mikey's body. I bent over and looked at my feet - how in the world could I have lost size 30 sandals on his body? They would have been visible anywhere, even in-between his pecs. I tried to picture the sandals in my mind. I recalled being in the store and buying size 13's. I also remembered my shirt in the trash had been size xl. When I was trying them on, Mikey's 3xl shirt and the ripped one felt like they would be too big for me. So why was my mind telling me that I order custom sized shirts online? All of the underwear ripped apart even though they were drastically different sizes. All of the pants and shorts were stretched around my legs with them also being different sizes. No... my car, it was regular sized. Why did it make sense to find clothes to drive home? I would not even be able to fit one leg in the drivers seat let alone drive home in it. Even my home had 8 foot ceilings. How could I even live there? My subconscious kept telling me to shake these thoughts out of my head, but my brain finally wasn't listening. Wait, Mikey was shorter than me when we first met by over a foot. Then he was much taller than me, more than 2.5 times my height. At that moment I was taller again by over two feet. Mikey was 5'2" a few years ago, right? He said that he was ready to explode for over three years. He was also 5'2" a little over three years ago. I finally pinned it down, things started changing when he started trying to exercise. No that's not it, he also said that he could not focus on a diet and exercise regime the whole time, which meant it started around when he moved into his house. I looked at the faucet, was it something in the water? No, it couldn't be. I knew for a fact that he drank filtered water from his refrigerator. I pondered what could be different between his life and mine. We ate the same types of food, nothing out of the ordinary - although I was more adventurous. He played more video games and was online more than me, but why would that cause this effect to happen? By then, I was no longer dripping wet. I stepped out and found his linen closet for a towel. I quickly dried myself off and went back to his closet to find something very large and stretchy. I was no longer under the fog of my subconscious saying that Mikey's clothes would be too big. I concentrated for a moment on how much taller I was than Mikey, my brain still said somewhat over two feet. At least that meant I was not growing anymore (or even worse, both of us were growing at the same rate). I found a much larger pair of lycra leggings, made by the same company as the ones in the office closet. That would have to do. After stuffing myself into the leggings, I ran the towel through my hair one more time and hung it over the shower stall doors. It occurred to me that I would have a lot of explaining to do with all of the torn clothes now in the trash. I was fine just buying him all new clothes to replace anything that I had touched. The harder topic would be me going through his bedroom and even using his master bathroom shower without asking. Since I was there anyway, I decided to check out what the leggings looked like in the mirror. They were definitely tight, but not to the point of bursting - finally! I tried to get some rough measurements even though my subconscious was telling me that I had already measured many times in the past. My brain was still fighting it off. It was actually quite difficult to measure since everything was so much bigger and my frame of reference was off. I looked at my hand and it seemed like a normal sized hand according to my eyeball judgement. However, just in relation to tiles on the floor and such, my hand had to have been at least 2 feet long. Using both hands as a quick ruler, my thighs were somewhere in the 90+ circumference range (almost 4 hands worth). I tried the same on my arms with more limited success. They were each in-between 2 hands and 3 hands - though closer to 2. A very rough estimate put them around 60 inches. My hands could not stretch far enough to fully cup my delts to judge their size. I felt the heft of my pecs. The felt like solid slabs of beef, though with the increased size they were probably closer to the entire slab of meat hanging to age in a butcher shop. I bounced my pecs in my hands to feel them pounding up and down and that flexed hard in the mirror. I could see slight signed of striations in the mirror, but not very distinct. That was wild to see at 20% body fat. I could recall flexing and barely seeing the separation at the bottom of my pecs before. My eyes traveled down from my pecs and I noticed that my stomach was sucked in. My abs were clearly defined now. The increased muscle density while growing provided further separation (still no veins though). I did a quick hand measurement and it was roughly 80 inches (3 hands plus a bit more). I tried to inflate my gut and tense it again, but nothing happened. I wasn't purposefully or even fully doing a vacuum pose. Actually, I wasn't even breathing. I forced myself to think about it and my last breath of air I remembered taking was at the firepit. I recalled smelling the embers and then getting a head rush when bending over right next to it. I did gasp when the shorts had ripped off, but could not recall actually breathing air any time after that. I tried to inhale but my throat felt like it was closed. I tried to exhale and some air bubbled up and exited my mouth - causing my stomach to suck in just a tiny bit more. I went to inhale again and was still blocked. It was like swimming with a snorkel. If you went under water and exhaled, you could feel the bubbles leaving the tube but then you would be trapped until you reached the surface again to blow out the water. But in this case, i did not feel panicked about not breathing. Instead, i felt like i had plenty of oxygen and did not have to breath. I felt like I would have to address not having to breath at some point, but it was not a critical situation at that moment. So the firepit... could there be something in there? I knew it was some type of synthetic coal and not wood. It even had a pretty yellow color to the brickettes. Some weird smoke could have some hallucinogenic effects and possibly distort perceptions. I knew that Mikey slept out there on the patio most of the time. Whatever residual smoke may have been hanging around the house when I would stop by, but not concentrated enough to have the long term effects that Mikey was facing. Having his breathing stopped while he slept might also explain why he took to doing the stomach vacuums so quickly and could hold his breath for record breaking lengths of time. I also had the marathon of not breathing air for eight hours straight, but I also had everything that was stored up over three years saturating my lungs - it obviously resulted in a much greater impact than residual smoke that had not been completely ventilated. It was around 7AM by then. I went to confirm my suspicions and found that Mikey was not breathing out on the hammock. I extinguished the flames and picked him up to bring him to his bed. I closed the door behind me to prevent any more of the smoke from coming. I smiled at the thought - I would not have imagined this yesterday. Here I was carrying 15+ foot tall Mikey and being able to maneuver enough to close a door without dropping him. But I was always big enough to hold him like that... Damn, I shook my head with disgust. That stuff works fast. Luckily I still wasn't breathing, as inhaling it would probably have a much greater impact. I went to lie Mikey down on his bed, but why did he buy such a small bed. it was supposed to be a double sized king and looks smaller than a twin with him on it. I quickly bit my lip to try to stay centered in reality. I shut his bedroom door and opened his windows to help bring in some fresh air. It was still difficult to concentrate, and took everything I had to keep focused on the matter at hand. I reached up and touched the ceiling. At least Mikey had lucked out by getting 24 foot cathedral ceilings. Otherwise, He would have been smashed into the place some time last year. I ran my hand along the ceiling to the doorway. The door was completely removed with a good chunk of the wall. At some point, Mikey must have had contractors out to reframe the doorways. I had never noticed that his doors went almost to the ceiling and were 16 feet wide. Everything had always registered as normal. Speaking of which, the office wall had been completely removed, along with the upstairs bathroom's wall. The only thing each of the rooms had were those room separator accordion type doors. My mind was still boggling over how these obviously strange things did not even phase me a few hours ago. On the opposite side of the bedroom, Mikey had a bench installed that could hold him. I gently tested it out and it seemed sturdy enough to hold me, too. I then heard Mikey take a deep inhale and then sounded like the normal labored breathing that people do when they sleep. That was good, at least one thing was off my mind. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I had been awake for over 24 hours (minus whatever amount of time i had been blacked out) and it was starting to wear on me. I obviously couldn't leave the house looking like this, and it was going to be difficult explaining the situation to Mikey since he had been under the influence of whatever that stuff was for over three years. To make matters worse, I still could not breath, meaning I also would not be able to speak. I sighed, or rather a couple bubbles trickled up my throat and escaped. I dozed off with the singular thought that I hoped I would wake up in my right mind. Game Nights Part 6 - The New Paradigm I woke up sometime around noon. I felt so groggy, I could have slept for another five hours. My roommate Mikey was in my bed and I was slowly realizing that I was on my corner bench seat. I tried to remember when we went to bed last night. We must have been so drunk. Even though I could not recall, I obviously brought Mikey to my room instead of his hammock. I stood up and stretched, rubbing my hands against the ceiling. I got a sudden chill and noticed the window was open. I rubbed my bare chest and could feel the goosebumps popping up. After closing the window, I rubbed at my arms and shoulders to warm myself up a bit. I inspected the current situation. I looked over my roommate to make sure he was ok. The silly guy was just wearing underwear and it was really cold in there. Other than his underwear being a little bit crusty, he seemed fine. He was in one of those sheath style underwear brands that he liked so much. Normally, I am not checking out my roommate, but laying there with no other clothes on he was basically on full display. He definitely looked bigger than usual - about as long as his thigh. It was kind of like when you have sex and don't fully go down afterwards. That not-fully-done chub state. It was not that I disapproved of the sight. He was actually looking pretty manly like that with the sheath somehow still covering it all. Nodding as a sort of "good for you", I pulled a blanket over him so that he would not catch a cold. We were just roommates and not partners, though I did not mind him being in my bed or basically being naked laying there. We never really talked about sexual orientation, but I suspected that he was bisexual, leaning towards women. I was more asexual, not really seeking the company of men or women. If a situation came up, I would go with the flow and wind up not enjoying it as much as the other party. I knew how to please myself and had not found anybody else who could come close. Just because I was not interested in men or women didn't mean that I stopped having fantasies. Since we were not specifically "into each other", Mikey being in my bed was not a big deal and it was better to just let it go. We shared most things around the house, anyway. Even without being a couple, we still cared deeply for each other. I would do anything for Mikey, even give my life to save his. And I knew he felt the same way. With Mikey safe and resting soundly, I went into the bathroom. It was a little bit warmer there. I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror. I had to brush my hair a little with my hand - it was really messy, as if I had taken a shower and just let it dry with only a quick tussle of a towel. I had at least a day's worth of beard growth going and it was coming in pretty evenly. In another day or two, I would have a nice full beard. Also, I was only wearing leggings with no underwear. The previous night was beginning to be curiouser and curiouser. It looked like I had just jammed on the pants with reckless abandon. I pulled them part way down to take a leak. I really had to go - yep, there was definitely a ton of alcohol last night. I readjusted my package before pulling the pants back up. Allowing my penis to run down my inner thigh prevented any pain later on from constriction. I had to I wiped a little bit of drool from the side of my face and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. What day was it? With the hair, beard growth and pants, it seemed like I had lost an entire day. I pondered the question for a moment as I scratched at the beard. My best guess was that it seemed like a Saturday. That was good, Mikey was off on Saturdays and I could just let him sleep in. I walked out of my room to check email up in the office. On my way, I stopped by the kitchen to start brewing some coffee. I opened up a bag and poured the entire pound of coffee grounds into the filter. I grabbed two gallons of water from the pantry and filled the machine's reservoir. I flipped the on switch and sauntered towards the staircase. Through the front window, I noticed a car parked on the street. Those crazy neighbors were always parking in front of our house. Mikey and I never minded though since we both worked from home. He had his work with the global supplies company and I was sole proprietor of my home business. The weekends were always my time on the main computer and he took 7-4 (or longer) on weekdays. We had a laptop floating somewhere around if either of us had to use the computer while the other was working. Upstairs, I started responding to client emails and creating a priority checklist for the weekend. Things were pretty light, which was both good and bad. Nice to get some free time, but hard on the wallet with less billable hours to submit. I could hear the coffee machine beep downstairs. On the way out, I noticed the trashcan full of ripped clothing. Mikey and I really needed to stop getting drunk (or AS drunk as we must have been last night). At minimum, I missed out on something wild. Before getting started on my weekend list, I had to wake up a bit more. I poured myself a cup into my gallon sized beer stein (which doubled nicely a coffee mug). With coffee in hand, I stared out the back windows. The firepit looked like it had been used and then snuffed out, but nothing was cleaned up. Perhaps we had sat out on the patio for a while and Mikey had passed out. Or maybe Mikey had slept there at some point during the night and then had come upstairs because it was too cold even with the fire running. The coffee was nice. It was the perfect amount of heat on a chilly afternoon mixed with enough caffeine to bypass whatever lack of sleep I was feeling. It certainly did the trick and I decided to go for a quick run. Especially when exercising, my body produced so much heat that I forewent with putting on a shirt. I was like a plugged in laptop power cord. When I was off, I was cool to the touch. When I was running, you could burn your hand. I figured a nice brisk run would certainly get me going without overheating. I grabbed a set of keys and attached them to my leggings. Then, out the door I went. Whenever I went for a run, I always had to use the street. There were some complaints from the neighbors since I would have one foot on the sidewalk and one foot in their yards. More so when it had rained recently, I would leave footprints around the neighborhood. Whenever I tried to run on just the sidewalk, the path was so narrow that I eventually tripped every time. The street was perfectly fine, though. I could run faster than the 25 mile an hour speed limit in the neighborhood and also easily hopped over any cars that might be coming in the other direction. See, Mikey and I lived in a community of little people. All of them were only like five feet tall or something. Maybe a few came up to Mikey's waist, but none reached mine. They were all extremely light, too. Mr. Briggs down the street complains about weighing 350 pounds and thinking that he is too heavy. Either Mikey or I could shot-put him maybe a quarter of a mile away if we were so inclined. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration. Another guy, something Italian like Donatello or Donato (I just call him Donny), talks about his big muscles all of the time. He is a tiny 200 pounds soaking wet - I would totally put my money on Briggs in a fight. I might be able to punt little Donny at least a mile if I caught the wind just right. Those two are probably considered the biggest fellows in the neighborhood next to us. All of those little people drove in these cute little cars. They reminded me of an electronic jeep that I had when I was a kid. I was sure that our neighbors all thought their little vehicles were impressive. I kept my opinion about them looking like toys for children to myself. Who was I to tell them otherwise. I came up to Ms. Ellie's house after a couple minutes of jogging. She lived around two miles away from us on the other side of the neighborhood. Ms. Ellie was an attractive 50 something year old little lady - nice as could be. As I approached, she greeted me and called me "hot stuff". I often wondered if Ms. Ellie was a cougar. I gave a cheerful wave in response. She looked me up and down and lingered on my legs. She then made a sly comment about how the cold didn't have any shrinkage effect. It occurred to me that I forgot to put on underwear before leaving and was obviously on display down my inner thigh. I blushed profusely, but there wasn't much I could do about it. She got a big grin on her face for still having the ability to make a man over 3 times her height blush. The grin faded quickly as she asked me for a quick favor. The Delinger boy next door to her constantly parked too close to Ms. Ellie's car. She always had to go next door and ask them to move it. Since she was just running to the store for a few things, she asked if I could help her out. I happily complied and gently grabbed the undercarriage of the car with both hands. It was a little bit of a strain to pick it up, but I could have carried it all the way back to my house two miles away. As gently as I could, I placed it into the middle of the street. She winked at me and said that she would stop by over the weekend and drop off some cookies from Mikey and me. Ms. Ellie worked at a bakery and always brought home extra dough that would otherwise be thrown out. She usually had cookies overflowing from her kitchen and loved to give them away. Mikey and I were both trying to watch our weight, but who could say no to free freshly baked cookies. Plus, she would bake a single cookie per cookie sheet whenever she made them for us. It was divine compared to the store bought junk where you need to eat an entire sleeve of cookies for one mouth full. Her eyes were lingering on my legs again as she said that she would see me later and called me hot stuff again. Although it sounded more like she freudian slipped - calling me hot stuffed. I then upgraded her in my head to: totally a cougar and possibly into me. I jogged next to her car for a minute as she approached the main connecting road outside of our community. At the last street, I made the motion of blowing a kiss to her and took off to the left. I jogged for another twenty minutes before turning back towards home. A few blocks from us was a park, mostly for the neighborhood kids. They had a bunch of salvaged or repurposed items. It was really neat that the crafty people in the neighborhood spent the time and effort to make a beautiful playground out of reclaimed pieces. The park was ideally situated right in the middle of the community. Most of the kids had less than a mile to walk before getting to play - good suburban planning from the original builders. There was this old monster truck with most of the exterior stripped down. Sandpits were placed around so that the kids would have a soft landing if they fell. A slide was constructed over the engine block to prevent anybody from falling in. Kids could climb up the tires, play around in the flatbed in the back and pretend that they were driving it. Overall, it made for a nice big jungle gym for the little people and their kids. It also made for an excellent piece of gym equipment for Mikey and me. Generally, we would only use it if nobody else was around. Every once in a while, we would stand with one of us on each side and "fly" it around with the kids inside. The rules were they either had to be in the front seats or sitting on the flatbed holding on to the constructed railings. If anybody at all broke those rules, the game would be over for everyone. Needless to say, none of the kids ever broke the rules so that they could get the chance to fly in a monster truck. We would make the motions like they were launching off of a hill and landing on other trucks. We would make the crunching sounds like there were big metal-on-metal collisions. All of the kids cheering was sometimes deafening, but it was so much fun. With all of the extra additions and construction, the monster truck weighed around 12,000 pounds. I slid under it and grabbed both wheel axles. I then started pressing it slowly into the air. While neither Mikey nor I could perform the "flying" carry by ourselves (at least not stably enough to prevent the kids from being launched out of it), we could use it for bench, squats (with assistance) and deadlifts. Deadlifts were the hardest to perform because we basically needed to grab the flat bed side and stand up with the truck sticking straight out in front of us. I could bang out a couple of reps since I was taller and had a longer reach. With the truck standing 12 feet tall and 12 feet wide, while Mikey stood a little over 15 feet tall, I had to provide assistance on the slide side to maintain his balance. 9... 10...... 11............. Try as I might, I could not lock out a 12th rep. Still, 10 was my previous max so getting one more was great. I stretched my arms out to the sides for a minute before grabbing the axles again. 7... 8........... My arms started sinking back, but then I gritted my teeth and gave it my all - 9! I slowly lowered the truck back down. My entire body was shaking by this point, but I wanted to milk that negative rep for all it was worth. My chest was burning like lava was about to erupt out of it. Steam started billowing off of my pecs into the chilly air. I was not looking down, but I could imagine that they were turning pitch black with my sulfur rich blood pumping through them. The wheels finally touched the ground and my arms flopped to the side like they were made of jelly. I closed my eyes and concentrated on flexing my pecs to keep the blood in them. I imagined what it would be like if they keep expanding and my entire body would grow to match. I had to stop myself from that train of thought because I started getting hard. The last thing I needed was to run the rest of the way home naked if the leggings gave out on me. After the much needed minute of rest, my arms were ready for action. I slid out from under the truck. I brushed a bunch of the sand from my back and ass before starting on some pushups. I performed 100 regular, then 50 with each arm, and finally 20 handstand-to-planche pushups. Now completely pumped, it was time for one more set under the truck. 4... 5..... 6............ Game Nights Part 7 - Introducing Morgan Mikey found himself in an unfamiliar place. Darkness was covering the room, but he could feel cold stone or concrete below him. It took quite a bit of time for his eyes to start adjusting. When they did, he could start to see walls - one, two, three, and the fourth seemed to be open. He started walking in the open direction but something impeded his movement. It was cold, cold iron bars - he was in a cell. He quickly searched the other three walls to see if there was a means for escape, to no avail. He called out through the bars for help, but he had no voice. He was trapped and nobody was coming to save him. Some amount of time passed: days, weeks, months, or maybe even years. There were no windows to tell the passing of time. The halls were just as dark as his cell. Some light must have been coming from somewhere or else he would be in total darkness. However, the amount of light always stayed the same without a day/night cycle. Nothing was there except for Mikey and the cold iron bars. Time started to bleed together and trying to determine days became irrelevant. Mikey knew that he was in prison awaiting his execution. The passing of time also grew his anticipation for the event. When would it happen? How would it happen? The only question Mikey was not asking was why, because he already knew the answer to that one. When the stress became unbearable, he began to grow. At first it was unnoticeable. You cannot tell that you have grown an inch without even being able to see your surroundings. It wasn't until he was around a foot taller when he started detecting a difference. The bars on the cell seemed smaller. From the day before or even a week before, the bars would have seemed the same. But Mikey could recall the first time he touched them. The growth continued. By the time he was three feet taller, he found out that there was a ceiling. By seven feet taller, he could no longer walk around the cell without scrapping his head. The unbearable anticipation turned into agonizing torture. Mikey finally realized the method of his execution. His fate was to be tormented with size until finally being crushed within the cell from his own growth. Though with the size increase also came an unbelievable strength increase. Mikey began to fight back. He spent his days slamming his fist into the wall - at the same spot over and over. He could feel the stone being chipped away. When he reached around 15 feet taller than he was originally, Mikey could no longer sit up in the cell. That did not deter him from his mission of slamming the wall. By then, too, his gargantuan fists shook the room with each jab. The hole in the wall was a few feet deep, but the wall's thickness seemed to go on forever. Eventually, his escape attempt had to come to an end. By 25 feet taller, he was too big to maneuver any more for a punch. He still dug his finger into the hole he had created, scrapping whatever he could out of it. That too eventually came to an end. Mikey grew to the point of feeling like a sardine packed into a can. There was no more available space and the execution date was finally upon him. Suddenly, the entire jail exploded from some unknown source. Mikey was not injured and was just extremely relieved that he could continue growing in peace. And grow he did. He quickly reached 50 feet. Looking at his hands, he was reminded of the rock golem in the Never-ending Story. They indeed looked like such big strong hands. He felt like he could crush the former prison with just one punch. By 100 feet tall, Mikey could no longer determine where the prison was. Not like he cared, anyway. The power rushing through him was all that he ever needed to know until the end of time. By 500 feet tall, he knew that he was a god and would rule over everything now and forever. Fate had other plans, though. The visage of his roommate came into view. They reached for each other, but the roommate vanished in a cloud of smoke before they could touch. Mikey began to shrink rapidly. Before he knew it, he was under 50 feet tall and still shrinking. The prison was in view again and quickly approaching. Mikey felt like he was falling, but his feet never left the ground. Cold wind rushed by him. He reached his original height, standing amongst the rubble, and continued his descent. He became buried under the stones and cinder. Any one of the pieces of rubble could have completely crushed him. The wind was still blowing and Mikey could no longer tell if his fate was to to vanish, be crushed or freeze. He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and then a warmth covering his body. All of the anticipation and fear melted away. The prison no longer existed, Mikey was finally safe. ========== Mikey roused from his slumber. He felt nice and cozy with a blanket wrapped around him. He rolled over, wrapping himself into a cocoon with the blanket. He smiled as the dream/nightmare faded from existence and then dozed off again. ========== After my last set under the truck, I rolled out and brushed the sand off again. I went back to doing pushups. I continued going, without counting, until reaching failure. Even then, I rested for a few seconds and pumped out a few more. I kept doing that until I could not do a single pushup after the few seconds of rest. I slammed into the ground - slam is a fairly accurate description. If one of the little people was doing pushups it would have been more of a plop, while me hitting the ground vibrated all of the houses within a 500 foot radius of the earthquake's epicenter. I felt like a turtle on its back (even though I was on my chest). My arms were absolute mush. I couldn't even use them to roll myself over. I sort of wiggled my feet for a bit and then used them as leverage to pry myself up on to my side and then on to my back. I did a kip-up, although at my size a kip-up only helps me to reach a seated position. There is no way in hell I could move the amount of mass needed to land on my feet. Or maybe I could, I made a note to myself to try it when I had use of my arms. With some smart maneuvering, I was able to get up to my feet to start walking home. My chest was completely black and pumped with blood, with it spreading to my shoulders, triceps, neck and upper abs. From a distance, it looked like I was wearing a black cut-off sleeveless shirt. I only had a couple of blocks left to walk and then I could try to bang out my weekend billables - I thought about how one might think that was a sexual innuendo as opposed to a business term. I tilted my head while in my "pondering" face. It would probably be both ways. ========== Morgan patted himself off after getting out of the shower. His dark ebony skin always looked fantastic wet. The drips of water trickling down his body highlighted and accentuated all of his bulges and curves. He wrapped the towel around his waist and put on his glasses to check himself out in the mirror. He still had a great body from his years of playing football, but had definitely gotten fluffy after being out of the gym for 9 years. Even with the accumulated fat, his overall muscle size had not diminished much. A couple years ago, he and his friends were going to start working out, but you know how it is. You just get busy and there always seems to be tomorrow. Back then, Morgan used to go over to his friend Mikey's house for games nights. Then, life started getting in the way. He was too tired after work, or his wife took his attention away, or he just forgot. With all of the cancellations on his end, Mikey seems to start cancelling, as well. Then, game night almost completely stopped all together. The previous day was Mikey's birthday, but again with work and the wife, etc., etc. - time just slipped away once more. They had agreed to run a game night on Saturday (today), starting in the early afternoon, since Morgan's schedule was freed up. A few other friends were also going to come over. Morgan flexed his bicep in the mirror. It mounded up to an awesome 19 inches cold. He recalled being at Mikey's house a couple of years ago and Mikey had been bigger. He did not say anything at the time or even act like he noticed it, but Morgan was definitely a little jealous. As far as he knew, Mikey did not even work out so it was a slap in the face to have smaller arms. Morgan gritted his teeth and crushed his arms a little bit harder, gaining a bit more of a peak. He made a silent resolution to himself that after today, he would make time for the gym and regain his arm dominance over the rest of the game night group. It wasn't that any of them ever talked about muscle size when playing games, but Morgan knew that the others stole glances at his rolled up t-shirts and now that attention was being shifted to Mikey. Morgan moved into his bedroom, still with the towel wrapped around him, and grabbed a couple of dumbbells hidden in the back of the closet. He began fervently pumping out bicep curls. Even if Mikey was still bigger, Morgan wanted to give the best gun show that he could. His wife, Ashley, entered the room and smirked at the sight. The two of them were polar opposites. Ashley was a humble high school teacher - she taught STEM courses. In college, she fell in love with a jock on the football team. They dated for a few years and got married. Everybody could see that they loved each other, but they had nothing in common. Morgan played football and cared about his body (even though he let it go somewhat), while Ashley was an intellectual and put more effort into Morgan's body than her own. Morgan had quit football because he was secretly a gamer and wanted to spend 10 hours on a console rather than 10 hours a day on the field. Ashley had never even played a single video game and wanted to breed animals in her spare time. Morgan liked anime, sci-fi and fantasy vs. Ash's dry British shows, romantic comedies and teen dramas. How they made it work, nobody knew. But when they were together, they somehow were the perfect match. Ash wanted to come over to game night with Morgan. She was actually friends with Mr. Briggs' sister up the street. The two Briggses lived together in the same house. Ash and the sister could then hang out while Morgan and his friends played some board games. Morgan grunted out his approval of the plan and did not even lose stride in his reps. Silently, both of them were impressed that Morgan was able to curl so much without having worked out in such a long time. If he really dedicated himself to the gym, his muscle memory would totally be like the Colorado Experiment. He grinned at the thought of gaining 50 pounds of muscle in a month. Then, there would be no way Mikey could come close to his own arms. Ashley sauntered over to her husband. His biceps were definitely getting pumped from the exercise. She had been first interested in him because he was a jock. However, things changed and their relationship evolved. When they got married, Ash stopped caring about Morgan's body because she loved his heart. Unfortunately, he had also stopped caring about his body - leading to his current state. She still loved him for him, but if he did get super buff again, Ashley would have no complaints. She ran her finger along his exposed back. He was still a little moist from the shower. His little display of power and beautiful skin was totally making her hot. Ash tilted her head a little and ran her tongue around the curve of his shoulder. Morgan slowed his reps a bit to really squeeze out at the top. He held that position as Ash buried her tongue in the bulges and grooves Morgan's pumped arms were creating. He gave a low moan of pleasure in response. Ashley went up and kissed his neck and then his cheek. While she did this, an expert flick of her wrist sent the towel to the floor. Ashley then abruptly sauntered away and out of the room, keeping one eye over her shoulder to indicate that they would save "that" for later. Morgan had a silly grin on his face, completely naked. He was also completely hard both from his wife and the bloated pump his arms felt. Even if Ash hadn't removed the towel, his cock probably would have done the same job in another minute. Morgan, still smiling, naked and hard as a rock, resumed his bicep curls. Ash basically sealed the deal in Morgan's mind. If doing a few bicep curls elicited that sort of response from his wife, he was most certainly going to dedicate any extra effort into working out. Happy wife, happy life. The prospect of what he could accomplish and how Ash would respond made him even more hard. If before he was as hard as a rock, he could now drill through steel. His dick even started to hurt from blood pounding into it. He focused on the pain and the burning sensation in his arms became background noise. On and on he kept curling the weights. His arms became so tight that he could only get halfway up before being blocked by his own skin and sinew screaming out like Popeye - it was all it could stand and it can't stands no more. Any blood not going to his arms was diverted towards his dick. It too was screaming out that it needed release. With his hands otherwise occupied, the pounding cock was on its own. Just as Morgan was about to blow without even touching himself, he slowly lowered the weights on to the bed and picked up his towel. He smirked down at little Morgan, knowing that he was going to save the energy from that masterful edging for later. Ash was going to get her just rewards for encouraging him on his new path. Morgan wiped down any remaining moisture and sweat that had built up. He draped the towel on the shower rack and turned back to the mirror. He had to clean his glasses off since they got a little condensation from the steam still in the air around the shower. Just that 10 minutes made his somewhat fluffy body look borderline jacked. He flexed his arms hard and could immediately feel the cramps that were creeping in. He didn't even care as he flexed even harder. The peaks easily exceeded 21 inches now. Then Morgan groaned as the cramp in his arms overtook him. He shook them out and massaged his biceps some. He couldn't wait to see how Mikey compared. ========== Mikey entered a dormitory at his college. He hadn't been there in many years and things looked the same yet slightly different. It was his freshman year of college and he had just arrived for the first time on campus. Inside of the entryway of the dorm was a courtyard (inside of the building). There were plants and trees, surrounded by a walking path. Birds chirped in the trees. In the center was a large ornate fountain with multiple tiers. Mikey looked up at the ceiling and there was a mural of the sun and clouds and the sky. The clouds were moving through the painting. His class for the day was meeting at the fountain, in the courtyard, inside of his dorm building. Because that's just how they roll in dream colleges. Still carrying his luggage, since he had just arrived and not yet moved into his room, Mikey walked over and sat on the grass by the fountain. There were thirty or so other students there. One was his freshman year roommate but he did not recognize any of the others. The professor stood on the edge of the fountain and began lecturing. Mikey could not hear any of the words, but instinctively knew that it was a biology lesson regarding anatomy. The professor continued speaking in garbled words, but Mikey understood all of it. The anatomy lesson went into ways to make muscles grow and change peoples sizes. The professor was now standing on the second tier of the fountain. She continued on with the lesson but somehow was on the third tier without breaking any stride. Each tier she went up, she became bigger and bigger, as if to give a real time demonstration to the class about what she was talking about. Without even Mikey realizing it, the professor was on the fourth tier and was a massive giant. Mikey was confused and impressed at the same time. He wondered how she was doing it. He looked at his fellow classmates to see their reactions and they were all giants, as well. Mikey looked down and found that he was sitting on a single blade of grass that was strong enough to hold him up. A chime rang out like in a high school, indicating that class time was over. The giant professor began to describe what everyone had to do for homework. The chime rang again, indicating that class was over once more. Mikey was distracted from his homework assignment and his heart pounded loudly three times in his chest. The other students began to pack up their things as the chime started going continuously telling them that class was over. Wait, what? Mikey's eyes opened slowly and he found himself in bed, wrapped up in a blanket. There was a rapid pounding on the front door. He groaned and dragged himself out of bed. With eyes still pretty much shut, he walked out of the bedroom like a zombie. Game Nights Part 8 - Game Night Returns Morgan parked his car after dropping off Ash down the street. He noted that someone must have already arrived since there was a car in front of Mikey's house. That was fine, Morgan was never the first one to arrive anyway. The driveway was free, so Morgan pulled in there. He adjusted his glasses and flexed his arms a little. The pump was still there, but definitely not as tight as an hour before. He got out and clicked the door locks. As he walked up to Mikey's door, he noticed someone was walking in the street about a block away. Morgan barely paid attention as he rang Mikey's doorbell. Patiently waiting, Morgan glanced back at the person approaching. Something was definitely off. The person looked like he was taller than the cars, WAY taller than the cars. Morgan's eyes almost bugged out of his head when he realized the person was a giant - he had to be somewhere in the 20 feet tall area. Slightly panicked, Morgan rang the doorbell again and knocked. He only allowed a few seconds of a response before jamming his finger into the doorbell multiple times and slamming on the door. Morgan took a step back from the doorway, his mind was racing with the fight or flight response. He had to get to his car, but would the giant attack before it made any difference? Morgan had played many video games with giants as enemies, but he had never thought that they were real. The tallest person he had heard of was 8 or 9 feet tall. The approaching goliath was at least double that. Random pictures he had seen of those tall people showed them as lanky and usually needing a cane to walk. The figure a few houses away from Morgan was not frail by any means... and... and... he had blackened skin spreading across his chest. What a chest it was, too. It was large and rugged, obviously pumped up from recent exercising. With his current state of mind, Morgan obviously couldn't get an accurate estimate on size, but it was at least a foot overhang from the giant's abs. The abs were sucked in tight, making the most incredible X-taper Morgan had ever seen. Morgan loved his wife, but the fear and a bit of awe for the muscled giant made his cock ache in his pants. Fight or Flight gave way to silently lusting to be dominated by the figure. The potential energy stored up from edging earlier was coming back with full force. Morgan heard the door open and his flight response immediately kicked back in. He tried to dart inside without averting his eyes from the street. He was sadly mistaken in his attempt as he collided with a massive hunk of flesh. He stumbled backwards and realized that it was a leg, possibly a human leg, yet impossibly huge. He tried to get away, but tripped on his own feet and tumbled to the ground. The giant from the street was upon him almost immediately. The original giant indicated to the new one in the doorway to step back. Then, he easily picked up Morgan. Completely terrified now, all Morgan could do was tremble in fear. ========== I continued walking home. As I reached about a block away, I saw Morgan at our door, ringing it frantically. I smiled and waved, but it did not seem like he saw me. I shook my head, realizing that Mikey was probably still asleep. I wondered why Morgan was visiting without calling first, but it was always a pleasure having him over. I tried to make some signal, putting my hands up to one side of my head to indicate that Mikey was sleeping. All that accomplished was to make Morgan look completely confused. Though, he did back away from the door. He must have understood enough to realize that I would have to unlock the front door and let him in. Mikey finally opened the door when I was passing our next door neighbor's house. Morgan tried to rush in - he must have been really cold standing outside. It was above freezing, but there was a certain chill in the air. I was still warm from my exercise, but quickly cooling down. Morgan took a tumble after trying to get inside. I hastened my last couple of steps to reach him. From a cursory glance, things seemed to be OK, but he was looking at me with wild eyes. I waved at Mikey to step back from the doorway - Mikey was standing there with a slightly dazed look, but did move backwards. I scooped up Morgan and carried him inside. He was shivering violently in my hands. The poor guy was definitely cold from standing outside and probably also suffering from a mild concussion. I thought that he must have hit his head when he tumbled backwards. That also would explain the wild look in his eyes. I gently held him close to my chest to warm him up as I walked inside. He was staring up at my face the entire time. But by the time I sat him down on the couch, Morgan started getting a look of recognition on his face - that was good. It meant that if he did have a concussion, it was not serious. Mikey was finally getting out of his stupor and gave Morgan a big hello with an even bigger smile on his face. Morgan also seemed to start recognizing Mikey, although he was still silent on the couch. I stood to get Morgan a glass of water. As I passed by Mikey, I slapped his arm and made a sharp jabbing motion towards my leggings. Mikey began blushing profusely and ran into the bedroom. That dummy was still wearing the crusty sheath underwear from the night before. Morgan watched the two hulks leave the room. They looked like his friends, but severely oversized. The one was definitely Mikey. Morgan would have recognized that goofy grin anywhere. Mikey always had that same grin whenever he was with other people. Although, Mikey was no where near 15 feet tall. Wasn't he? Morgan closed his eyes and pictured the last time that he came to a game night. It was still the same image that he had from earlier in his own bathroom. Mikey was a little more than 6 feet tall. This guy was over two times that amount and two times wider than Mikey, as well. Morgan also pictured Mikey's roommate at that time and he was something like 6'4" or 6'5" or so. Roommate... Mikey lived alone, right? The coffee I had made around an hour before was still hot and obviously Mikey had not drunk any of it. I knew he wouldn't mind if I poured Morgan a cup. I rummaged through the cabinet and grabbed a little person glass and little person coffee mug. Those things were so silly. Why would anybody ever drink 8 ounces of liquid? That amount could not even be considered a mouthful. But the little people seemed to like it, so Mikey and I kept some of the smaller sizes in our kitchen. Pouring the coffee had to be done somewhat delicately. I tilted the pot slightly so that a little splash could fall into the mug. Then I did it a few more times and got pretty close to the top. I just used the refrigerator dispenser for the water and brought both back to Morgan. As I was placing them on the end table, Mikey came back out wearing shorts and a t-shirt that only covered his pecs and about half of his shoulders. I took that as an opportunity to throw something else on. I remembered my meeting with Ms. Ellie earlier and realized that I too was probably a tad on the revealing side wearing only my leggings. I could hear Mikey exclaim that he had forgotten about game night and just woke up from a nap. He apologized to Morgan - though I still could not hear any responses from Morgan from the bedroom. Morgan was trying to organize all of the questions in his head. The first obvious one was to find out how all of this happened. But the question did not escape from his lips. The relevance of the question faded as he tried to figure out what "all of this" even meant. Mikey just started chatting about some video game he had played a few nights ago. Morgan went through the motions of acting like he was listening - nodding his head and such - but was still focused on his own questions. After that brief distraction, Morgan could not remember the original question. Was he going to ask if Mikey had been working out? Or was it about the blackness on my chest? Morgan turned those questions over in his head and then brushed them aside. Of course Mikey had not be working out because he was naturally big and muscular. And the blackness was obvious from the sulfur rich blood binding to the iron in my hemoglobin. Morgan tried harder to figure out his questions. He knew that Mikey and I were roommates and both stayed in our house since we had home businesses. He also knew that he was a little person, even though in the back of his mind, he felt like he was normal sized a few hours ago. But that didn't make sense to him. How could he have possibly been normal when he was quite obviously small. Finally, Morgan blurted out the question that was bothering him. He asked Mikey why he was wearing only underwear when he answered the door. Both of them started laughing as Mikey tried to explain that we got drunk last night and he did not recall what happened. He had found himself asleep in my bed wearing only that. Since Mikey was woken up from the nap, he was still groggy and did not realize what was actually happening. I could hear the laughter in the other room. It made me feel good because it meant that Morgan was returning to his normal self. I cleaned myself up in the bathroom and put on some underwear and a new pair of leggings. Underwear never seemed to do much, but I bet that my friends appreciated the little bit of extra effort. However, everybody knew that shirts did not really fit me well and that I would always go without them while at home. My chest was still black, but most of it had started fading from everywhere else. I returned to the living room and waved at Morgan. He no longer had the wild look in his eyes and was not shivering anymore. Morgan was happy to see me and asked how I was doing. I smiled and shrugged. I wiggled my hand in a "so-so" motion. He said that he felt the same. Work was always crazy busy and he and Ash had begun talking about starting a family. There was always so much on his mind that he was glad to do something fun other than video games for a change. He also mentioned that Ash was up the street at the Briggses. Mikey made him promise that Ash would stop by to say hi before they went home. Mikey was now sitting on the floor in front of Morgan with me leaning against the wall, standing to Mikey's left side. I caught Mikey staring at Morgan's arms as they chatted. I tapped his shoulder lightly to snap him out of it. He just bluntly asked if Morgan had been working out. Morgan got a sheepish smile on his face and said that he had just started again a few hours prior to coming over. He also went into Ashley's response to the exercise. I was a little taken aback since we usually did not broach the subject of sex or Morgan's marital relations. What he said next, though, really shocked me. He told us that whenever he was at our home, he felt a little bicurious. He still absolutely loved his wife and never wanted to do anything that might jeopardize the relationship. But he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be with a couple of normal sized guys like us even for one night. Morgan started trying to rationalize his feelings by saying that a little person and a normal person being together would technically not break any wedding vows since normal people like Mikey and I could never actually have sex with a little person. Or at least not have sex in any regular sense of the word. Mikey tilted his head back towards me and we gave each other a sharp look. Mikey obviously was having as much trouble dealing with this as I was. Morgan looked up at us in earnest. He had the expression that you get when you know that what you just said is about to be mocked and ridiculed. Mikey and I were totally on the same wavelength. The last thing we wanted to do was make Morgan feel ashamed. Mikey started easing into his response. He told Morgan that any type of sex, even irregular sex, would be breaking his vows. Neither Mikey nor I wanted to be the cause of a failed marriage. Morgan looked down with a hurt and dejected expression. Mikey thought for a few seconds on what he should say next. He reached over and put his hand on Morgan's shoulder, basically engulfing the left side of our friend's body. Mikey continued by saying that there may be a loophole. Muscle worship could avoid the sexual parts and still give Morgan the experience of being "with us". I had to nod in agreement. A married person is allowed to worship muscles as long as it does not go too far. Morgan looked up at us with the cutest smile I had ever seen. It was the look at pure joy and acceptance. He nodded with tears welling up in his eyes. He said that he would like that very much. Mikey pulled in Morgan close to give him a big hug. We were both so happy that our friend felt comfortable enough to open up about his feelings. That kind of subject is never easy to broach if you do not know what the response will be. In the middle of the hug, our doorbell rang. I gave Morgan a light pat on the back as I went for the door. It was Bill Briggs. I could hear Mikey whisper to Morgan that they would talk more later. Then, Morgan went for a tissue before the newcomer could see that he had been crying. Opening up to two friends was his limit. Briggs cheered about having game night starting up again when I opened the door. He was breathing heavy from walking the couple of blocks to our house. I figured he would have driven over, but was proud of my friend for at least getting a little bit of exercise. He put up his fist so that we could "pound it". It was more like him tapping his tiny fist onto my index finger knuckle. I grinned and ushered him in. The three of them all started talking to each other about video games and what not. We set up one of those online party games just to get things rolling. The afternoon faded into evening as they continued chatting and we all switched to playing some board games. It was really nice having Morgan and Briggs back at game night. I could not recall the last time they had visited. Game Nights Part 9 - Let the Worship Begin Later into the evening, Ash and the lady Briggs walked down the street and rang our doorbell. We had just finished up one of the games a few minutes prior and everyone was chilling out before starting up a new game. So really their timing was almost perfect. Everyone seemed happy to see each other and hugs and kisses went around. Bill had already seen Ash earlier when Morgan had dropped her off. It boiled down to just Morgan and Jess Briggs hugging and kissing. For Mikey and me, it was kind of leaning in and patting the sides of our thighs. That was good enough for us, anyway. It wasn't really an occasion calling for us to get all the way to the ground and floundering around for hugs. The Briggses were first to call it quits. They left together and walked back up the street. Jess was on the slim side - a testament to how genetics and diet can alter how even siblings look. I guessed that she would not be winded after walking home in the cold. She had shivered a little bit as she entered our home upon arrival, but was not breathing any heavier than a normal little person would have been. I could definitely feel the chill in the air, but I was still fine being shirtless. Bill was probably collapsing from breathing heavy after the two blocks of walking. Mikey and Ash talked for a while afterwards. Every once in a while, Morgan interjected a comment. Of course, I was the strong silent type - being mute and all. I knew only a little bit of conversational sign language. None of my friends knew sign language, anyway, so my responses were more like charades. I did not feel bad being left out of most conversations. If there ever was something that I needed to say, I could get my point across or write it down if it was absolutely necessary. When Ash started getting tired, she dropped a few hints to Morgan - ones that he was completely oblivious to. A little while later, Ash was still dropping hints, so I tapped on my wrist to get Morgan's attention with a "check out the time on my watch" gesture (not that a watch could even fit on my wrist). It did not even occur to me how odd the gesture was since watches could not fit any normal sized person and were made just for little people. He finally realized what time it was and dropped a hint back to Ash that it was getting late. Both she and I rolled our eyes at each other. Mikey spoke up as they were making their way to the door. He asked Morgan to stop by again tomorrow around noon and we could all catch up more since it had been a couple years of only talking online. Morgan smiled gratefully and wished us a good night. Mikey and I stayed up for a little bit longer playing some video games. Eventually, Mikey passed out on the couch. I could see him dozing before he nodded off completely. He was probably still groggy after having been woken up from a sound sleep 10 hours or so before. I figured it was a good time to go to bed myself. After all, the previous night I felt like I only got 3 or 4 hours of sleep and even then I had slept on my bench. ========== Mikey took a walk through the neighborhood. The street was narrow with no side streets. In-between each of the houses, he could see the backs of neighboring houses on the parallel streets. The street itself was narrow, around wide enough for one little person car to fit down, or one Mikey in this case. All of the houses were the same dimensions in the sub-division and basically had the same beige/tan exterior and reddish brown shingled roofs. Mikey knew this place well. It was his new home and he felt welcomed and comfortable. It was very relaxing walking down the street and he felt like he could do it forever. From above, he could see that the sub-division was based on a peninsula surrounded by water as far as the eye could see. He dove down from the sky and landed on a telephone pole - Mikey was a crow. From his vantage point, he could see the town center and an elderly gentleman shuffling through and intersection in the distance. Immediately, he was upon the man, back in his human form. He could now see that the older figure was a little person, but so was Mikey after his transformation. Mikey was even a few inches shorter than the hunched gentleman. The realization shook Mikey to the core and gave him some recollection that he should not be there in the sub-division. It was not his home and something was very wrong with the place. The calm and relaxing feelings were a facade. Mikey was also able to bring the old man out of his stupor. They both knew that they had to escape. The pair of little people quickly made their way to the town center. They found a tall white skyscraper traveling up into the clouds. It was completely out of place in a cookie-cutter sub-division but at the same time seemed to belong there. The sheer magnitude of the building made them feel tiny and insignificant. Mikey and the old man ran into the building and started climbing the steps. The entrance had looked like an office building atrium. The steps seemed like the best option since they did not exactly know what they were doing there. Around the 5th floor, they exited the staircase and could see a hallway encased in glass. The hallway overlooked the atrium five floors below. As they ran through the hallway, two security guards stepped out in front of them. They told Mikey that the old man was coming with them but that Mikey should leave. As Mikey began to protest, the world began to fade into darkness. Mikey woke up in his bed. He lived with his girlfriend - not as lovers, just a girl who was his best friends with. Mikey knew this place well. It was his home and he felt welcomed and comfortable. It was very relaxing in his bed and felt like he could stay there forever. ========== Mikey woke up and the dream quickly vanished from his mind like a puff of smoke before he even had a chance to think about it. He looked around the room with bleary eyes. He was in the living room and the sun was up. He then looked down and around himself - he had fallen asleep on the couch. He felt something weird on his pecs as he moved his head around. He reached up and felt his face, he could tell that he was sporting a full beard since he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. His pecs were also completely covered with fur. It was emerging from the neckline of his tight shirt. He also felt that his stomach was complete covered in fur, as well. He looked over at the time and saw that it was around 11 AM. He continued scratching at the beard and decided to get cleaned up since Morgan was scheduled to be there around noon. Mikey got up and made a pot of coffee - knowing that I would probably want a cup. During the night before, I had had a half of a cup while Briggs and Morgan had finished the rest. Mikey just rinsed out the pot and set up the machine again. He then lazily walked down the hallway to my room. I had woken up a few hours prior and was already upstairs at the computer. I hadn't completely caught up on sleep, but the 4 or 5 hours that I had gotten were solid. It was enough to make it through most of the day. I realized that I hadn't had time to finish my billable hours the previous day because of everyone coming over. Right when I woke up, I didn't even hesitate to pull myself together. I was past halfway on my contract work when I heard the beeps from the coffee machine. I decided to ignore it and keep focused on finishing up. Mikey stripped down to take a shower in the master bathroom. He hadn't even gotten cleaned up from the adventures two days ago. Since Morgan was coming over for some muscle worship, Mikey wanted to at least be presentable. Nothing would kill the mood more than him knocking out Morgan with some ripe smells. As the water warmed up some, Mikey checked out his fur in the mirror. It seemed completely unfamiliar, but he could not recall when or if it wasn't there. It was a mousy blond color, closer to brown than blond. It completely covered his pecs, but stopped at his neck and shoulders. On his stomach, it framed out his abs with it a little thicker at the divisions between each ab. He sucked in his gut a little bit and flexed. The hair condensed together and formed a much darker outline bordering around the individual ab muscles. He relaxed and it still showed perfect definition even back in the regular turtleshell shape. He ran his hand over the hair and it felt rough and sturdy, not like the silkiness that blondish hair usually has. In the shower, Mikey could see a little bit of residue from my fun in the early hours of yesterday morning. Since he was cleaning himself anyway, Mikey just cleaned the tile walls while he was at it. I had taken a very quick shower before running upstairs and was simply dressed in a pair of boxer briefs, which fit more like tighty whities. As Mikey was finishing drying himself off, he heard the doorbell ring followed by a few knocks. I also heard it from upstairs but wanted to finish up my work. It was pretty quick for Mikey to throw on one of his favorite pairs of underwear - the sheath style briefs and go answer the door. He opened the door and welcomed Morgan in. Morgan found himself in stunned silence seeing the mostly naked man before him with slightly damp fur running up from his crotch and over his pecs. A flashback of yesterday hit him and he remembered bouncing off of Mikey's legs as he tried to enter the house. Morgan absentmindedly started reaching for Mikey's legs, but Mikey quickly turned away. The motion sent his soft penis sheath swinging like a pendulum. Mikey walked towards the staircase and asked Morgan to shut the door behind him. He then came up the steps to let me know that Morgan had arrived (obviously calling up to me would not have received a response). I indicated that I needed a little bit of time. Mikey nodded, getting the drift of what was happening, and went back down to Morgan. I could hear some muffled voices downstairs, but continued pushing through on my projects. ========== Mikey sat on the floor with Morgan on the couch, just like they did yesterday. They chatted awkwardly for a little bit - nothing all too important and basically trying to ease into the topic of muscle worship. Finally Mikey broke past the elephant in the room (in this case the elephant was the topic being avoided and not Mikey and his big "trunk"). He asked Morgan what he was hoping to get out of the muscle worship. Morgan did not really know what to answer. He started talking about seeing size comparisons and then feats of strength and feeling our muscles and seeing both of us wrestle and getting involved with the wrestling (as much as he could) and measuring us and even seeing what spooning with a normal sized person and little person would be like. He was basically all over the place. Mikey had to slow him down. If we got into everything that Morgan was describing, it would take all night and basically lose its meaning. We needed to have a more concise plan so that we could all get the most enjoyment as possible out of the experience. Mikey started out with the feats of strength. To do this, we would basically have to go out into the cold - it was 5 degrees chillier than the previous day - and play around at the park. Mikey described our workout routines with the monster truck. Any of the larger objects at the park would require both Mikey and myself to even have a chance of lifting them. But then Morgan came to the realization that he would have no frame of reference during the worship. He had no idea what lifting a monster truck or anything larger would entail. Morgan could not lift a car, let alone a huge truck. The feats of strength would basically be lost on him other than it was something large that he could not budge with no perspective of the actual weight. The wrestling might have been interesting. I had a bit more strength than Mikey, but he definitely had the leverage over me with his weight and stockiness. Either of us could lift the other one, but we had never tried struggling to stay on the ground while wrestling each other. If we did go that route, we definitely could not let Morgan get involved. That would be a guaranteed injury, if not worse. Even with Mikey and I going at it, one slip and half of the house could be taken out. Bringing it outside would be like driving a massive stake into a major seismic fault line. The tremors would be felt throughout the neighborhood. Yeah, Mikey and Morgan agreed that it might be better to ease into wrestling some other time. So then they started discussing size comparisons and spooning with a little person. Both sort of go hand in hand. Morgan would be able to feel our muscles envelope him and just keep the whole session calm and relaxing. Mikey mentioned too that leaving it more as a relaxed sensual experience instead of a testosterone charged one might keep us on track with maintaining his wedding vows. They then began discussing some positions that they could try out. While talking about it, Morgan got up and started massaging Mikey's feet. They continued conversing as Morgan massaged. Mikey's feet were huge in Morgan's hands. They seemed like they were around 2 feet long and Morgan could not even get close to wrapping both hands around even at the smallest width. Mikey's big toes were a few inches thicker than Morgan's wrists. Morgan moved up to Mikey's calves. Morgan edged his way in-between the big legs stretched out in front as Mikey still sat on the floor. Morgan could barely hug the plump pillows that Mikey's calf muscles formed. Mikey's words trailed off as he watched Morgan messaging his legs. His brain drifted away from whatever he was trying to say and became completely tuned in to the little person's motions. Mikey twisted his left leg - the one that currently held Morgan's attention - and flexed it slowly. The plump flesh began to harden under Morgan's finger tips. It was not shredded looking, but Morgan could feel how dense it was. He tried to jam his thumb into the calf but his efforts were easily repelled. Mikey reached forward and gingerly lifted Morgan up with his hand and set him back down on the other side of his right leg. Mikey then laid down on his side with his legs on top of each other so that Morgan could access both at the same time. Morgan kneeled down and traced up both of Mikey's shins with his fingers. When he reached Mikey's knees, Morgan cupped the massive quads in front of him. He then surprised Mikey by climbing up the shins like a ladder and straddling Mikey's left knee. Morgan turned slightly and placed his right hand on the calf just behind him and left hand on the deep groove in-between Mikey's quad and hamstring. He began to rock back and forth, gently massaging both Mikey's upper and lower leg at the same time. It had been over an hour since Morgan had arrived. I no longer heard the voices from upstairs. It did not matter, though, as I was shutting down the computer. I had just finished my work for the weekend and was curious to see what the two guys downstairs were up to. Game Nights Part 10 - Conclusion of Chapter 1 I came down the staircase and saw Morgan straddling the mostly naked Mikey's leg. Not like I was any better wearing a pair of boxer briefs that that were now wedged in-between my ass cheeks from sitting, standing and shifting around upstairs. Morgan had taken off his shirt by this point, revealing his white undershirt. The sleeves of his undershirt were slightly strained around his biceps and crept up into the space just below his shoulders. He still had his pants, shoes and socks on. Seeing the scene below me, I pictured Morgan riding a stallion as he rocked back and forth rubbing his hands over the mounds of flesh. I sat down behind Mikey, leaning over but propped up with my right hand on the floor. I followed Morgan's lead with massaging Mikey's legs. Morgan was prevented from denting the tissue, but I easily managed to get in deeper into the muscle with my free hand. Mikey let out a low moan. He could not recall having been massaged before, but it felt better than anything he could have imagined. Even Morgan rubbing the skin felt fantastic. It was like when someone rubs their fingers along your scalp. They aren't penetrating any tissue, but it always feels so good. I massaged up Mikey's hamstring to where it met his glute. Not expecting it, Mikey twitched in excitement. Morgan bounced off of the powerful leg like a ragdoll. Luckily I was able to catch him. From my elbow to finger tip, was about five feet long. Morgan landed on my arm and just laid there limp. His head was resting on my bicep and his entire body down to the shoes filled up the space of my forearm, hand and fingers. I shifted my weight a little and used my right hand to gently pull off Morgan's shoes. He shimmied a little to start removing his pants and then the undershirt. I took all of the items and tossed them on to the couch (which was almost within arm's reach). Morgan was then lying on my forearm in his boxers and socks. He felt his back spread out over my forearm and began to grope around behind himself. I could see him tenting in his boxers from the experience of laying on a bed made of muscle. He started reaching for himself but I stopped him. He looked up at my face in protest. I simply smiled and shook my head. He nodded back knowing that the rule was not to go too far with this. Meanwhile, Mikey had rolled over on to his stomach, with his arms out to the sides. I tilted my arm downward and Morgan was able to slide off on to the floor next to Mikey. Mikey's right arm would reach up to Morgan's waist, usually, but Mikey was propped up by his massive chest in that position. The top of Mikey's tricep was now up around Morgan's shoulders. Morgan began to trace the definition between Mikey's arm and shoulder muscles. He once again climbed up the flesh and sat above the elbow, just below where the tricep horseshoed around the arm. As he started massaging the tricep and down around to the bicep, Mikey shifted a little and got into a pushup position with his hands placed closer to his waist than his chest. Morgan was propped up a few feet off of the ground, but still stable. I stayed close by to catch Morgan in case he was flung off again. Mikey began doing pushups, but slowly and only around halfway up to keep the angle small enough for Morgan to stay on. Morgan grasped the edge of a horseshoe with one hand while he felt the rest of the tricep tense underneath of him. Now he looked like he was riding a bull at a rodeo, hanging on while the animal bucked and tried to shake him loose. After a couple of minutes of this, both Mikey and Morgan were panting a little bit from the exertion. Morgan slid to the ground and Mikey pushed himself up on to all fours - knees and hands touching the floor. I shifted around Morgan to get closer to Mikey's head, now kneeling to get a better vantage point and free up both of my hands. In this position, the top of Mikey's tricep was taller than Morgan. Mikey could feel (but not see) that Morgan was going under him. In response, he exhaled and arched his back to pull in a full vacuum. Morgan was about to get on to his hands and knees to crawl under, but the vacuumed gut pulled up enough that he could just walk upright into the space. Morgan took off his glasses and handed them to me. I put them on to the mantle behind me. He then closed his eyes and slowly walked into the cave. Mikey's still damp fur on his stomach was hanging down around 5 or 6 inches and brushed across Morgan's face. He lifted his head up and took a deep inhale. He felt like he was a car in a car wash but at the same time he was in a tropical rain forest. He felt the heat and moisture surrounding him. He was shaken out of his fantasy world when he tripped on a fallen tree. Or rather, Mikey's semi-hard cock got in the way. Morgan knelt down and gently ran his hands from the base of the sheath all the way up to the tip. Mikey's eyes rolled back into his head as he let out a rumble - almost more like a low growl than a moan. I snapped my finger and both of them looked over at me. I waggled my finger at them and they immediately stopped to make sure that it didn't go any further. Almost on cue for not going further, there was a knock at the door. I absently mindedly reached over and opened it. The sweet smell of cookies wafted into the room. Ms. Ellie came waltzing in without an invitation and gingerly kicked the door closed behind her, not even phased by what was happening. Shit, I had forgotten she had said that should would bring cookies over sometime this weekend. I did not even hear the car outside with my mind focused on the action in front of me. Much to all of our surprise, Ms. Ellie put the cookies on the floor and said that she was going to join in (it was said as a statement of fact instead of asking permission). She did not even bat an eye in embarrassment. Ms. Ellie completely ignored Morgan underneath of Mikey - she obviously had no interest in a married man or what adventures he might undertake in his free time. Mikey and I gave each other a quick glance and just shrugged. She walked up to Mikey and rubbed her fingers through his chest fur and then clamped down with fingers intertwined in the hair. She pulled him in for a full on motorboat in his pec cleavage. Morgan felt Mikey's cock twitch next to him and start to get completely hard. Ms. Ellie then pet the side of Mikey's pec and moved on to me. Mikey was left in a daze, but never faltered in his stomach vacuum - knowing that Morgan was under there. Morgan started crawling out from the cave, going in-between the massive pillars of Mikey's arms. It was a tight squeeze getting out with Mikey's hardening cock and huge globular pecs - further enhanced in size from the expanded ribcage - obstructing the way. Mikey finally inhaled again as Morgan got out. He still could not see Morgan, but could feel the little guy at his pecs. Morgan took a page from Ms. Ellie's book and grabbed on to the chest hair. He began scaling up Mikey's pecs, using the hair for hand holds. He easily reached the top and sat down on one of the pecs. He kicked his feet around to rest on the other pec and laid back with his head on Mikey's shoulder. Ms. Ellie climbed up on to my legs and went straight for my abs. Since I did not breath, I was in a perpetual vacuum pose. My organs had all shifted up into my chest cavity at some point, giving me an incredibly tiny waist. It also gave plenty of space for someone Ms. Ellie's size to walk in under my ribcage. She turned around, planted a foot on each of my legs and started grinding her backside ever so slowly over my stomach. My ab columns flexed involuntarily. It gave Ms. Ellie a two foot wide ribbed plank to lean against. She grabbed on to the skin bordering the sides of the columns and held on tight as she grinded up and down, up and down. It was like she wanted to clean her delicates on a washboard just as tall and even wider than she was. With her back pressed up against them and hand gripping the sides, she was basically stroking my abs like they were a gigantic cock. If I could have moaned, it would have been the longest moan in the history of the world. I could literally feel my abs getting harder and tighter as she continued to stroke. They began turning black as night with iron sulfide accumulating in them. They were flexed so hard that my chest was being pulled downward. No longer would Ms. Ellie be able to stand straight up, but luckily standing up was not on her agenda. Meanwhile, Morgan had started crawling around Mikey's neck and was massaging his traps. He then slid, head and hands first, down the middle of Mikey's back. It was slippery enough with some moisture from Mikey's shower mixed with a bit of sweat building as things were heating up quickly in there. Morgan turned himself around and started massaging Mikey's lats. The lats spread out just as far as Morgan could reach. Morgan really pushed hard into the lats to massage them. He placed his feet on to the top of Mikey's glutes to use his entire body in an effort to dig into the tissue. It must have been working because Mikey was grunting from the pressure on his glutes and running up his back. Ms. Ellie stopped her grinding and instructed me to lean over. I put my hands on the floor in front of me as I was told. I was thankful that my abs could get a reprieve. Still standing on my legs, she was now within reach of my nipples and she took full advantage of her position to fondle them. I had never paid much attention to my nipples, but they were now harder than an awl and just about as long as one (though much much thicker). I could have poked a hole in a tree large enough for a family of birds to live in. The doorbell rang, and I instinctively opened the door again without an ounce of brain power dedicated to the task. Mr. Briggs popped in cheering about a second game night, although he barely got one word out of his mouth as he began to grasp what was happening before him. He had seen the three cars at our place and figured we were going to play some more games. He was sadly mistaken, although not entirely upset by what he walked in to. He swung the door closed and just stared. Neither Mikey nor I were fully aware that he had even come in. Mikey was still grunting and moaning when he looked up and saw Briggs standing there watching him. In complete shock, he quickly pushed himself up, sending Morgan tumbling off behind him (luckily Morgan didn't break anything). In the motion, Mikey's fully erect cock thrust forward, impaling Briggs' face on the wall. More accurately might be that Briggs' head slightly impaled the head of Mikey's sheath underwear. Mikey tried to scooch forward to assist, but all that accomplished was pushing further into Briggs. Briggs was lifted off the ground by Mikey's cock, hanging there all 350 pounds of him lifted up by a massive penis sheath. It all happened within a second or two and we could instantly hear cracking from Bill's spine from the pressure/torsion it was under. But something even worse came next. Mikey was already at the point of orgasm when he sat up, from Morgan digging into his back. With someone's head jammed into his cock, it sent him over the edge and he blew his load. Luckily, Mikey was wearing the underwear or else he might have shattered Briggs through the wall to the outside. With his head completely pinned, all Briggs could do was try to swallow, though most of it was spilling out, covering his head immediately and quickly moving its way down his body. Morgan pulled himself to his feet, slightly dazed, and walked around Mikey to see what was happening. He stopped in stunned silence when Briggs came into view. Even Ms. Ellie had stopped fondling me in shock and awe of the scene in front of us. It all lasted for about 5 minutes. Five minutes of Briggs pinned 2 feet off the ground by his head partway wedged into Mikey's penis. The initial shock faded into an acceptance of the situation. What was happening now was just the natural order of things. When it was finally order, Mikey's softening cock slowly slid Briggs back to the floor. He was alive and panting a little for air, but he seemed no worse for wear other than his glasses looking slightly bent. The cracking we all heard must have been from the wall behind him - although there were no visible dents or cracks in it. ========== Bill Briggs was already a cute guy. He had this goofy and nerdy demeanor about him. He had a shaved head (bald since his teens according to him). Bill always wore glasses and sported a thick beard - neatly shaped and trimmed to about 4 or 5 inches long. It was just long enough to hide his neck. He obviously had a ton of DHT going on with the baldness and beard, but also with his body hair. I had only seen part of his belly exposed once (or twice including now with him hanging there), and his stomach was completely covered in fur. Surprisingly, though, his arms and legs were devoid of hair. Bill always wore shorts regardless of the temperature. I remember one guy back in college wore shorts every day like that. There was only once that I saw him with pants on and it was the hottest day of that school year. He probably had an interview or something, but the thought always makes me laugh. I had never seen Bill in pants, though. He always seemed to have a t-shirt on, too. Though he would wear a jacket when traveling in the cold - not today though for his quick jaunt down the street. His collection of nerdy logo-t's must have been as huge as he was. At 5'10" 350, Bill was by no means a tiny man. He was also gay, but still in the closet with his friends and family (especially with his house mate sister, Jess). I could always detect it when he was around. He never did anything remotely "gay", but he would have a far away look in his eye for just a moment whenever the Italian bodybuilder Donny was mentioned in a conversation. He never once had that same expression for anybody else. I always hoped that some day Donny might notice him, but Donny cared about Donny and did not want anything to do with big Bill. When Bill started to grow, it was subtle at first. He still looked like a fat man, but the shape changed more than the size. His chest began to inflate in his shirt, filling in the space in-between it and his beard. The lower parts of his chest were no longer flattened and traveling off to the sides of his stomach. They began to crease the center of the logo on his t-shirt and form gulley traveling down from his shoulders ever so slightly. Bill's shoulder span started to look like that neat thing heavy guys get - where if he wore a backpack, it would be a mile stretch to reach the tips of his shoulders. He did not have any clear definition where his neck met his traps, where his traps met his shoulders or any real shape to his shoulders at all. It was just a football field to get across them. With the mile long shoulder width and chest beginning to fill his shirt, Bill began to look like he was leaning backwards. His shoulders were placed so far behind his head, his chest was now so far past his beard and still his stomach was so far past his chest. Add in that his arm angle was already facing forward, sitting at rest, you almost felt like telling him to stand up straight because he would be a foot taller. But then looking at him from the side, you could see that he already was standing up straight and just had unbelievable proportions. A couple of things did change completely in Bill Briggs' favor. The first was that his arms filled in the t-shirt sleeves. It being a 6XL shirt already, the sleeves just sort of hung there. It wasn't that Bill had skinny arms before, it was just such an excess of fabric. Before, the shirt was draped over his shoulders. Now his shoulders gave a really nice shape to the top of the shirt and then his growing arms did the rest of the work. The second was in his shorts. At one point the shorts hung down with a huge excess of fabric just like his t-shirt had. The waist length on the shorts was very large, but his thighs did not completely fill the legs. So the image you can get from it was completely flat looking on both on the front and back sides. Regular guy clothing is usually very flat, so if you have any bit of an ass or bulge, you have to squeeze in or get a larger size. Yet, big-and-tall guy clothing is massive on both sides and then just hangs awkwardly, giving a horrible silhouette that further kills any body image that the guy might have of himself. This was also true of any of the shorts Briggs would wear. With his growth, the backside of Mr. Briggs' 7XL shorts was stuffed with two large oval-shaped watermelons. There was certainly enough fabric to fit even more size, but his ass at least took care of the awkwardness. On the front, he started filling in behind the zipper. It looked like a cucumber was stuffed in there, but it was completely soft - giving a nice curve that pushed on the zipper without straining it. Just like with his t-shirt sleeves, the legs of the shorts were filling up with stout powerlifter legs. These legs pushed the bulges on the front and back sides upwards and slightly more out. Where alone, they would not have been straining the shorts, with his thighs growing in, it looked like the shorts were now getting close to busting at the seems. Bill was still up against the wall. His head was no longer touching as his massive back propped him up. His lower back still had visible space between it and the wall. I could have stuck my hand into that space. However, his watermelon ass cheeks also now touched the wall, giving a wide curve to his back side. The space was slightly obscured by the huge hams shoved into his triceps. On the front side of his shirt, there was now a shelf. His chest had gained so much meat that it was almost a completely horizontal surface sticking out a foot from his beard. The entire surface almost merged with his shoulders, making his head look like it was sitting on a serving platter. Bill's legs were just thick, so sickeningly thick that they oozed power. His legs now rivaled my waist. The big ball gut was no longer sagging under its own weight, but rather looked like a solid boulder that you could use as a heavy punching bag. With it and his bulge lifted, Bill's silhouette was incredibly attractive. Donny would no longer be able to ignore this powerhouse. I licked my lips looking the new Bill over. I identify as asexual - note that while Ms. Ellie's efforts were insanely pleasurable, I was not aroused by it and kept it in my pants... underwear. Though, even I had the thought in the back of my head about taking the new Briggs for a test run. If only I was a little person, maybe I would try it. We all looked at Bill with some amazement and wonder. Everyone else's breath was as silent as my own. We could hear his shirt and shorts groan ever so slightly before things normalized and he stopped growing. He started a bit under six feet at 350 pounds. He was now standing around 6'2" and quite a bit more than 500 pounds. He looked like he could walk into any World's Strongest Man competition and take the title in his sleep. The flab was still totally there, but he looked powerful. An elite powerlifter might reach 1,500 pounds raw on the big 3 with numbers upwards around 2,000 when on major gear. Just looking at Bill now, we would all be shocked if he couldn't hit a raw 5,000 pounds and then some. Bill was just as much in shock as the rest of us. However, the more times we blinked over the minutes of just staring, the more normal it all seemed. Why were we all staring at Bill in shock? Did he say something unusual when he walked in? Bill looked up at Mikey and mumbled a question about what was happening. Mikey shook his head and the thoughts completely faded. Mikey recounted events of Bill coming in and probably wanting to get involved with the muscle worship. He then apologized for losing control and shooting off. Bill wiped some of the spunk from his face and smiled, accepting the apology. That was what happened, Mikey was correct. The shock we all felt was from Mikey losing his control, it all made sense now. But my attention was then turned to Mikey. After all of this, did he look smaller? In my head, I remembered how Mikey was 10 feet tall, but he was looking like a 9 foot tall person, or maybe even less. A wave overtook Mikey and he flopped backwards off of his knees. Suddenly, all of the dreams he had over the past few days flooded into his head. The prison, the school, the suburb - the memories of feeling like he was falling through the sky although it was really him shrinking. The dreams were coming true. Mikey started crying as the realization that his life was a lie dawned on him. He was not a 7 foot tall man and he did not have any real muscle development. Mikey ended his descent at 5'5". His memories from a few years ago leaked into his subconscious and told him that he should be 5'2". It seemed like he kept some of the height growth from whatever had happened since then. Suddenly, he was very aware of his body and his slightly below average penis with the huge sheath underwear draped over him. He was still crying as he ran his naked little body upstairs to the office. He found some of his old clothing and put it on. Nobody in the living room could think of what to say or how to comfort him. It did not matter, though. By the time he came back down, we looked at each other and smiled. Bill commented about not realized that Mikey was upstairs. Ms. Ellie walked over to him and comforted him. She asked him why it looked like he was crying, but Mikey did not know the answer. None of us did, really. I could not recall why Mikey was even at my house. Morgan had come over for muscle worship. I did not understand why Mr. Briggs, Ms. Ellie or Mr. Mikey had come over. Oh right, Mr. Mikey and Ms. Ellie came over to drop off cookies. They lived together, but for some reason took two cars coming over. I noticed the car keys on the mantel next to Morgan's glasses and tossed them to Mikey. I remembered thinking that it was a neighbor's car, but I now recognized it as Mikey's. Mr. Briggs said that he should head home and gave me a quick fist bump. The jab of his fist really hurt - it was definitely going to bruise my knuckle. He was always doing that to me. Powerlifters never seem to realize their own strength. Morgan thanked me, put on his cloths, glasses and shoes and headed out, as well. Ms. Ellie was still comforting Mikey and told me that they would swing by next weekend to see how I was doing. She always worried about me living alone and working from home. They walked outside and got into their separate cars to drive back to their house. I went about my business cleaning up. I did not remember ejaculating during the muscle worship, but the wall where Mr. Briggs was standing was wet with spunk. I just shrugged, since I lived alone it did not matter too much. I then noticed the sheath underwear on the floor. I scratched my head since I never wear those things - how did it get on the floor and why was it damp?
  7. geektofreek

    Home From College: Part 2

    Another installment guys! Although many of you have already read this, I have yet to post it here, so for continuity, enjoy! “What do you think son?” He came out of the dressing room, wearing nothing but a pair of blue boardshorts. I remember that gift shop like it was yesterday, the gift shop we found this past July while camping. He stood there almost looking like a kid, checking out the the way his body looked, excited about this new found piece of clothing. I couldn’t help but smile at his immature tendencies. “They look good dad!" I grabbed an identical red pair and joined my dad in the changing room, stripping off my jeans and shirt. Seeing us in the reflection was almost comical, especially after putting on the shorts. Besides the age difference and muscle build, we looked almost identical. We had the same hair, the same height, even the same happy trail. I made a funny flexing pose in the mirror, making dad ruffle my hair with a chuckle. Anyone could tell we were father and son, anyone, until my dad decided to start flexing back.. “Remember these things?” My dad stood over me and chuckled, sliding a pile of eggs onto my plate. To say I was stunned would have been an understatement. Those same blue shorts, the ones that hung down to his knees only four months ago, now squeezed half way up his thighs, verging on destruction. The enormity of my dad's legs far surpassed anything those jeans lead onto believe yesterday. They had to be almost twice as big as mine, hairy as hell and cut up like diamonds. I almost wanted to whimper at my misfortune, that camping trip was nothing more than a dream now. Even my dads manhood seemed to bulge against the shorts like a fucking python. My dad was always decently sized, but the thing never looked this big. “So how’d you sleep?" “..Alright..” “Sorry Denise and I got a little loud last night..” A little loud? I heard some crazy things living in a dorm during the night, but last night was by far the worse. Denise whaled so fucking loud at times, I thought she was almost screaming in pain. Dad on the other hand sounded like a total beast. He grunted with each thrust, banging the king sized headboard against my room, letting the entire neighborhood know when he reached his climax. I could just imagine him holding himself above her with his burly arms, that huge muscle ass thrusting in his impressive member to her small vadge. They must have fucked five times before I finally went to sleep, god the poor girl must have been raw.. “It’s alright, she’s pretty attractive” I continued the usual manly banter “Yea she is..” Dad adjusted his crotch as he walked over again, like her name almost made him ache to fuck again. He slid some breakfast potatoes on my plate, god it almost ached being this close to him. I knew it was probably just the pump, but my dad looked a hell of a lot bigger than yesterday. Above the shorts was this small white shirt, the fabric stretched across his torso so tight it was practically transparent. I could see the outline of his rock hard abs, his big nipples, even his chest hair. Not to mention every movement he made seemed to make the threads strain like a balloon ready to pop. Dad just chuckled and walked back to the kitchen. “I keep forgetting you're not used to all this yet” “Sorry..” I looked down at the table, feeling my face turn bright red. Dad just poured my big glass of orange juice. He must have caught me staring a hundred times by now. My lack of self control was almost embarrassing, I mean this was my own father. I could feel the table thump as he walked back towards me, glancing up to see his big flopping cock move beneath his shorts. I looked back down and remained totally silent, feeling his hand suddenly squeeze my shoulder. “Haha it’s alright Scott” He set the orange juice down “I take it as a compliment. Your dad’s getting pretty big all over” “Thanks.. I’m just not used to seeing you so..” “Muscled? Haha just wait, Denise is going to shave me down tonight. You’ll be seeing every inch of my muscles then..” I took a huge gulp “Where is Denise?” “Out grocery shopping. What do you think of her anyways?” “She seems nice..” “Yea? She’s been so great, especially with learning how to compete. I’m really starting to love bodybuilding” The word made my stomach sink. How did a gay kid like me end up with the muscle dad of the century? He raised his right arm for a quick flex, staring down at it with eager eyes. I just sat there at the table, seeing his big daddy bicep swell up to its full size. What I wouldnt give to feel up a muscle like that. I mean there was a part of me that knew it was just my dad, knew that I could probably grab his arm and there wouldn’t be a care in the world. The other part of me though, the gay side, knew I would just find arousal and lust. “..So you're really into that stuff now?” I spoke up “Totally into it. I’ve already gained 32 pounds..” “32 pounds!?” “Haha Yea. Denise says she’s never seen anything like it. I can’t wait to start packing on even more for the competition” “How much do you weight?” “293 pounds. Here check it out” Dad suddenly grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling up the fabric like some sexy stud in a worship video. I tried not to openly gasp at the amount of muscle that bulged off his chest. Not only did my dad have the most enormous pecs I had ever seen, his abs were shredded to perfection, all six of them. He struggled to get the sleeves past his arms, giving me those momentary few seconds of total lust. At 5’11”, 293 pounds of muscle looked massive on his average sized frame. Without his face, he looked like that massive jock from across the hall, the one I had been drooling over for months. While most men his age would have some sag around their muscles, my dad’s were tight and perfect, like he had the body of a 20 year old. “Therrrre we go” My dad groaned, finally squeezing his shirt past his massive arms and over his head. He quietly smirked at my gawking and expression and tossed the shirt to the kitchen floor. To think that I would ever be this close to muscular perfection. His chest was even dusted in that flawless coat of dark hair, something I found totally arousing. I watched painfully as he bounced his pecs playfully, giving his muscles a few quick fixes. “Pretty great isn’t it? I’m planning on adding at least another solid ten pounds before christmas, get some real size going” “Real size? Dad you're huge!” I said bluntly “Haha glad you think so. I honestly don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner. I love how big I’m starting to get..” He raised his right arm up again, grinning as he practically stuffed his bicep into his face. I know my dad tended to get obsessed with things, but I never took him for having an arm fetish. He took in this deep long breath, like he was sniffing his own musky scent. The sheer size of his deep pits was almost unreal, twice as large as any normal mans. He kept on pushing his bicep closer and closer to his smiling lips. I swear he was about to lick the thing when he opened his eyes and stared right at me. “You ever seen a bicep this huge?” I gulped “Only a couple of times..” “You should take a feel..” My dad got even closer, standing over me like a total muscle god. I took a huge gulp, knowing already I couldn’t refuse. The desire to touch someones muscles had just piled up so high over the years, and now here it was being offered to me on a silver platter. I slowly stood up, looking at my dads more than gleeful face. I almost felt like a virgin again, touching a man's body for the first time. As I placed my hands against his huge 23 inch mountain, my cock almost surged to life. It was so much better than I could have ever imagined, tender but powerful. I rubbed my hands across its warm steel-like mound, smelling the musk of my dads pitts, exploring each revit. My dad pumped his arm a couple times, as if acknowledging my attentive hands. I honestly wanted to burry my face into his arm, go totally gay for my dad. Instead I stood there practically drooling, rubbing his arm like a zombie. “Pretty cool huh? I’m thinking they’ll be 25 inches by next month” “Wow, 25?” I dropped my hands “Did you ever think your old man would be saying that anytime soon?” “Try never..” “Haha, we better eat, breakfast is getting cold” Dad sat down on the other side, still without a shirt on. The amount of food he had in front of him was staggering, especially after last nights dinner. I mean I always knew bodybuilders ate a lot, but the amount my dad was stuffing down, it almost seemed impossible. Yesterday he devoured 4 chicken breast, 3 cobs of corn, a quarter pound of green beans, a half pound of mashed potatoes, and a staggering huge protein shake for dessert. If there was any chance my dad was trying to make me feel pathetic, it was working. “God I’m hungry” He started digging in. The fact that he sounded like an animal while eating his food was one thing, seeing him eat like one, was a whole different story. He looked more beast than man, with the enormous shelf of his hairy pecs pushing down his flapjack sized nipples, his huge shoulders and traps swollen around his face. The grease and slop dripped from his gorging mouth, I couldn’t imagine how ravenous he must have been to be eating like this. BURRRPP “Jesus dad..” “Haha sorry. It’s all this growing I’m doing” He snickered a little, continuing to scarf down his food. It was honestly almost kind of hot in a way. Knowing all that food was helping him grow, transforming into probably pure muscle. He finished off the entire plate in only a couple of minutes, making another loud belch. “Better get ready, I’m going to get one last pump in before the family gets here..” The family, I had almost completely forgotten. Thanksgiving day and all that was on my mind was daddys muscles. He stood up from the table, thumping across the kitchen with a roided out looking belly. I couldn’t even imagine how everyone would react. My dad was already the tallest out of everyone, and here he is packing all this muscle now. He snatched his shirt up and made one last grin at me. “Don’t forget to clean up your plate” “Sure thing dad..” God I felt pathetic. I looked down at my small pile of food, knowing I wouldn’t even be able to finish half that. I was always so envious of the guys that could always eat a ton. It reminded of all my jock friends in high school, scarfing down four or five pieces of pizza at a time, totally horned up and muscled. My dad was like a teenager going through puberty, a big one at that. Here he was working out, growing huge, getting the hottest girl. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one going through college? I guess its like they always say, muscle makes the man.. “GRrrrr” I spent the next few hours in my room, hearing his grunts echo throughout the house. Even though my dad said he just getting in a pump, it sounded more like a full blown workout to me. Over an hour of lifting and there was no sign of stopping. I could only imagine what he must look like using that tiny weight set. We’ve had the thing forever, ever since before I was born actually. Considering the size he was at, he was probably maxing out every weight available. It was shamefully kind of hot in away, my dad outgrowing his college weights. I went downstairs after dressing up, seeing my dad stand by the window. He strapped on the same jeans as yesterday, along with equally tight black shirt. The pump he got definitely made him look bigger, hell it was a wonder he even got those clothes on. I slowly walked up behind him, staring down at his tight bubble butt. “Man I can’t wait to see their faces..” My dad looked down at his arm, looking totally smug and powerful. His family always was competitive, especially between him and my uncles (his two older brothers). For all the randomness of my dad's sudden growth in muscle, it almost all started to make sense. Showing off was always limited by the size of your pocket book, something my dad never had very much of. Investing in your body, although sounds crazy, was almost like the perfect win. While most people are scrambling to buy the latest cars and electronics, dad could just continually pump his body bigger and bigger, grow into his own massive showcase piece. “Grr, yea. So who do you think is going to be shocked the most!? Haha, I bet your uncle Ben is going to..” SNAP “Jesus dad!!” I looked down, seeing my dad's left leg blow through the seam of his jeans. My dad frantically grabbed the gaping hole, covering it up like he thought I wouldn’t notice. “Fuck not again..” “This happened before?” “About a week ago, shit I must have gotten too pumped! I knew these jeans were about to go but..” RRRIIIIIPPPP “Holy fuck dad!!” I practically squealed, watching the other huge thigh suddenly shred through the blue denim. My dad just laughed this time, smirking down at his overly muscled body. The skin and hair of his legs bulged through the small openings, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “God It’s like I’m growing bigger by the second!” DING DONG “What are you going to do dad!?” “You and Denise answer the door. Meet me in the bathroom with a pair of shorts when you’re done” “Ok..” My dad quickly walked off. I could hear his jeans rip and tear even more as he thumped down the hallway, shit it was like he was hulking out. I stood there for a second, my heart practically beating out of my chest. I quickly wiped the sweat from my forehead, hoping that no one needed to use the bathroom. “Hey Uncle Ben..” “Hey big guy, how are you?” “I’m good..You?” “Hungry. Where’s your dad?” “Oh he’s around here somewhere..” I said blowing him off, watching the line of people come up to the door. It was like they had all came out once. Before I knew it the entire house was filled with over twenty people, all while my dad was locked up into the bathroom. I tried to fish my way through the sea of my family, dodging every question they threw out like bullets. My dad always kept some shorts in his duffel bag, knowing that would probably be my only chance. His bag was laying between all the weights and sweaty towels in the garage, the place absolutely reeked. I found a pair of red shorts buried deep within his bag, a little small, but better than nothing. Luckily everyone seemed to be doing there own thing right now, there loud voice filled the living room. I quickly ran to the bathroom across the hallway. “I got some!” I almost shouted, quickly closing the door behind me. I turned around to see my dad just stand there, looking down at his jeans at his jeans with an almost hungry look. I heard the sound of his jeans start to snap and pop again, looking down to see his right leg began to flex. “Dad what are you doing!?” “Sorry son. I just can’t help myself..” RRRIIIIPPPPP My dad laughed, forcibly shredding his right thigh through the seem of his jeans. This time I actually squealed, dropping the shorts to the floor and backing into the door like a scared girl. My eyes just bulged as dad began to flex up his other leg, watching the denim hopelessly inflate. I couldn’t believe what he was doing, actually flexing through his own clothes. He snickered like he had wanted to do this for years, pumping his thigh until it was nearly double in size. I squirmed like a worm as thread by thread of his jeans snapped apart. It wasn’t long before the blue denim suddenly exploded off his leg, unleashing this total tree trunk of hairy muscle. “Fuck that was easy! I bet I could blow through this whole outfit!!” Dad gripped his knuckles together, thrusting his arms forward to flex his pecs. His black shirt suddenly burst open around his fat nipples. My dad laughed like a kid, heaving his chest bigger and bigger, puffing up his lungs with huge amounts of air. I watched mortified as more of his huge muscle torso became exposed. The shirt shred down his thick pecs and steel plated abs almost like a fucking zipper. Next my dad slowly raised his arms, causing the threads around his huge pits to snap. The pump he got from that last workout was insane. His arms looked almost 24 inches now, there was no way those sleeves would survive. My knees practically trembled just knowing I’d hear the sound again, almost wanting to cover my ears. “Show your guns to the judges!!” My dad flexed his biceps, blowing through his sleeves like they were fucking paper. He just roared with laughter, looking like a total god of muscle. He looked down and began tearing the remaining fabric off. My jaw nearly hit the floor as he peeled off the last bit of denim. His briefs were dangling between his thighs, stretched down by one of the most massive cocks I had ever seen. It looked as if his manhood had nearly doubled in size. It must have been over six inches flaccid, thick as a fucking beer can. My own cock was throbbing painfully hard in my jeans, grinding itself almost to the point of cumming. Dad just laughed at my facial expression, arrogantly turning towards the mirror with a quick flex. “What do you think son, should your old dad shoot for 20 pounds instead!? Haha” I stood there speechless. The definition of his muscles was borderline freaky. He hit pose after pose, sneering at his own reflection like the muscle heads at the gym. I looked down and watched his huge cock began to inflate inside his briefs, whimpering at its sheer size. He turned towards me and continued to flex, I could feel my cock about to cum. He hauled up one of his huge arms again, flexing into his signature single bicep pose. My dad really sniffed his pitts this time, grinning with such disgusting satisfaction. “Mmm, you know what the best part is about having all this muscle son?.. It’s knowing you can only get bigger from here..” My cock suddenly splurged, shooting gobs of warm cum into my briefs like a fucking fountain. I dug my nails into the bathroom door behind me, using all my might to hold back the moan of pleasure that tried to escape me. I swear I thought my dad was going to see my throbbing cock beneath my jeans, see me orgasm over his awesome muscle bod. Instead he just kept flexing his muscles, boning up over his own image. I looked down one more time to see his mammoth cock continue to swell, seven inches now and it didn’t even look half hard. My dad with a final chuckle put down his arms. “Bet you’ve never seen that before have you!?” My dad boasted, grabbing the shorts off the floor I dropped. He stood back up and began tugging them up his strong hairy thighs, struggling to even get them past his knees. I eagerly watched my dads cock just flop over his waistband as he got to the top, noticing even how swollen his testicles were. “Guess I got a little excited back there..” He said grabbing its enormous shaft, stuffing it back into his shorts like a firehose. I still couldn’t believe how massive his cock was now, knowing it had to be in the double digits. To think his cock used to be only an inch or two bigger then mine. What middle aged man's cock just starts growing bigger one day? “Fuck this underwears small..” “..I should probably check on the guest” “Wait Scott” He grabbed my shoulder “I need a new shirt now..” “Ok.. Be back in five minutes” I opened the door, feeling a burst of fresh air hit my face. I slammed the door behind me and let out a huge sigh of relief. What just happened in the bathroom was insane. I felt my cum drip down my legs as I walked down the hallway. Nineteen years old and my briefs had never been this soaked. I looked down to see if a wet spot had formed yet, knowing it was about to seep through at any second. Everyone seemed mostly distracted with each other, eating the delicious food Denise had put out. I quickly ran upstairs to my dad's bedroom, stopping off in his bathroom first. I grabbed a washcloth from his counter and pulled down my pants, it looked like I had just pissed myself there was so much cum. I started down towards my feet first, working my way up to my soaking crotch. The image of him bursting out of his clothes just replayed in my mind. I know there should have been some amount of shame, splurging a big cum load over my own dad, but it was honestly the hottest fucking thing I had ever seen! The fact that he was so muscle obsessed, so disgustingly arrogant about his growth. My dad was obviously planning on pumping himself much bigger, bigger than I could probably even fathom. For the first time on this trip I felt my anxiety dissipate, and I knew it was all for the wrong reasons. I slowly pulled up my pants, looking at myself in the mirror, my uncontrollable smirk. Maybe my dad turning into a bodybuilder, wasn’t so bad after all..
  8. Twenty Something Inches (the Remix) Forum Note: I've always loved this story, and ploder4 on our site mentioned wanting to continue it (his continuation here: Twenty Something Inches - continued). I decided to start posting my remix of the original. Please keep in mind that this version, my version, is also relatively unedited, but I wanted to start posting what I have to get some feedback and buzz going. So, its A Work in Progress! I'll be posting updates as the creative juices flow. ** A heavily edited and modified redo of the original "Twenty Something Inches" - credit for the story concept and original content goes to the original author, theEd. ** Where should i start? boys? men? muscle gods? well, in order to talk about these gods-among-men, I guess I need to start with the .. uh ... well, with the blast of gamma radiation ... yeah. its gonna be one of those kinda stories... cept this is real. Let me talk about my life first. Male. 20 years old. I recently moved out of my parents house. No big deal, it was way overdue and I loved the freedom. It was a whole new adventure for me, out on my own, even if it meant living with roommates that were nothing like me. There was Bill, the guy who decided it was safer to park his motorcycle in our living room. There was Chris, a quiet emo kid who raised tarantulas and snakes in his bedroom. And, there was Nick, a very bad guitar player who had a grower connection and sold dope on campus. We were all about the same age, the youngest being Chris, at seventeen. It was a shitty living environment by any standards: bugs everywhere, the shower muddy and barely a trickle, food, clothes, papers everywhere. The roommates had these unexpected parties which only further trashed the house and made the whole place reek of pot smoke. I never partook and really didn't like the smell, so, of course, the thick haze somehow, without fail, would always manage to settle right in my bedroom every time. We were lucky that this house was buried in the woods, or we would've gotten to know our local cops quite well. Another good part was that no one ever knew who the true owner of the house was. We never met, or even had a phone conversation with, anyone who claimed ownership. We all found the house on craigslist and sent our rent checks to some corporate management firm. No one ever bothered us, even if one or more of us had missed payment last month. We enjoyed our freedom in this arrangement, so we tried to pay rent as often as possible. I was the one who almost regularly missed rent payments. I was there because I had no money and the rent was super cheap. Even then, it was rough for me. But, I still had my notebook, so I could write; I was going to be a famous writer someday, and repay all these debts. Writing was my gift, my passion. I approached the world with an open mind and an open heart, pen and paper at the ready, but I never quite expected that I would write about Bill, Chris and Nick. That's all the background you need about them: Bill was always an okay kind of guy, Chris was kind of creepy, really, and Nick… well, we never got along very well. Nick’s all-night-long parties got popular mainly because of the non-stop supply of beer and weed, but he also had live, local bands blasting throughout the night and eventually, the parties became known for the overall "higher" quality of guys and girls that would fill the house. Popular kids from the schools, jocks, athletes, dealers, actresses, up-and-comers, all started flocking to Nick's parties. The house always seemed near collapse, though somehow it would hold together til the next day. In the beginning it was fun; I even scored with some girls and guys. (I’m bi, by the way.) But, then it started to get on my nerves. I couldn’t sleep normal hours anymore, the kitchen was always a total mess, and the bathrooms were beyond disgusting. We had to start pooling money to pay a clean lady to come in two times a week, but after four or five months, even she gave up on our mess. One random Tuesday night, Bill and Nick decided to barbecue at 3am. They fired up the grill on our outdoor roof/deck/rickety-death-trap/patio area and proceeded to laugh and yell and stomp around until the whole house was awake. Drunk and stoned outta their minds, even more than usual, the guys were interrupted by a bright falling star streaking across the clear night sky. Bill laughed, pointing, “Hey man, look at that! Make a wish!" The star suddenly froze in place and started to swell with a white so bright the boys had look away. “Wow, dude, what the fuck is that? It's so fucking bright!" Nick said after a few moments of awed silence. "Where's our wannabe astronomer? Hey Einstein, get out here! You're missing the most awesome thing!” Nick yelled down in my general direction. They called me Einstein, very original, aren’t they? I looked out a nearby window and saw the blinding ball of light, now the size of the moon. “Shit, what the hell," I muttered to myself before reason kicked in. "Guys! Come inside, quick!” I yelled. “Fuck! Who we should call? NASA?” Bill asked, completely ignoring my warning. "Someone get a camera! Grab my phone!" Nick yelled into the house, never taking his eyes off the light. "Come inside! Quick! That thing could be dangerous!" I repeated from inside the safety of our house. Chris rushed passed my open bedroom door with his phone in hand. I followed after him, hoping to at least get him to stay inside. No dice. He quickly tucked his thin frame through the open window and climbed out onto the roof. “Look at that,” he said, watching the light show through the screen of his phone's video app. I peeked out at the scene from the edge of the window frame. The star exploded with a blinding light that turned the entire sky white. I stepped back as the guys outside covered their eyes. Whatever it was, I had to protect myself. Those guys were crazy to stay out there! I slammed the old, leaded window closed just as a burst of purple and green flashes filled the horizon. I crouched down into a ball as I felt the whole house start to shake. I was scared shitless! The rumbling got louder and louder, making everything rattle and vibrate with a deadly intensity. "We're all gonna die!" I cried in a meek whisper, mentally complimenting myself on a wonderful choice of last words. At the peak of noise and shaking, there was a huge BANG! and then it all just... stopped. I was trembling; too afraid to open the window to see if they got toasted by whatever THAT was. I made myself stand and was about to peek through the window when I suddenly heard Nick and Bill yelling "oooh"s and "aaaah"s, like they were watching a 4th of July firework show. Seconds later, they calmed down and that was it. That was the moment that changed our lives. That brief moment... and no one had a single clue. **** Two months later, I started to notice odd things happening to my roommates. Specifically, to their bodies-- They began to ... "swell," i guess is the word ... with muscle. That Bill would grow muscles easily, was expected. But Chris and Nick? Both were sticks. Two totally flat, tall guys. I had always been attracted to athletic bodies, male and female, and Chris and Nick flew under my radar. Nick always dressed tight, emo/punk shirts. I started noticing those old shirts were straining against his now-curvy body. His arms had visible muscles swelling now, and when he played his guitar, veins would start to web across them. I also started to notice, to my quiet anger and jealousy, that he was scoring a lot more often, and off a wider variety of girls. Chris would never leave his room and he when he did, he would always wear baggy clothes, so I had quite a shock when he finally started coming out of his cave. The first time he came up to "chill" nearly killed me! My initial surprise was that he was being overly social all of a sudden, but what really dropped my jaw was that he wearing very little, allowing me my first real glimpse of him shirtless. He had pecs, big pecs, and abs, and biceps-- the whole package! He was still border-line "slim," but he was already becoming muscular, showing off more size and thickness than I could claim on my own twinky body. I knew that this guy had never set foot in a gym, and the last, and only, time I saw his chest, there was not a single, pale muscle to speak of. My brow furrowed in confusion, asking myself, “What the hell is going on…?" I tried to ignore all three of them, chalking up their changes in normal male growth spurts, but each week it became more and more difficult to ignore. I had some abstract suspicions by the forth week, and by the fifth and sixth, my otherwise wacky suspicions were becoming fact. On afternoon, I realized I was now about an inch shorter than everyone. Bill, already tall, became much taller. So did Chris and Nick. I began to wonder how much longer they were going to pretend nothing was going on. How could they continue to pretend not to notice when they were obviously starting to tower over me? My main theory was, of course, something related to that night. I began my quest for answers and searched everywhere i could imagine. I Googled, Binged, Yahoo!'d, and newsgroup'd long into the night, digging deep for a single, tiny shred of information that could connect an odd, unexplainable celestial event to multiple counts of spontaneous, unnatural muscle growth. I found some great muscle growth-related sites, but I found nothing of scientific merit. (I bookmarked the fiction and morph sites) **** One night, Bill knocked on my bedroom door and started shouting through the wood about needing more condoms. Of course, I had plenty. I grabbed a couple from my sad, unused stash and opened my door. My jaw dropped. There was Bill, one hand holding onto a loosely tied towel, stretched taut across the bulging muscle of his thighs. His pecs were huge and thick, his abs deep and defined, his bis swollen and round-- My eyes didn't know where to start! I was drawn back down to his waist, where my eyes froze in place, locked onto his crotch. Pushing against the towel, and outlined in glorious detail, was a full, huge, hard dick. It was big-- abnormally big-- mouthwateringly big. I was speechless. For way too long. Who was this muscle beast?! I already knew (from his loud bragging) that he had 18’ 1/2 biceps, but that stat was from a while ago, and now... now, the rest of his body seemed unreal. “Hey man? Something wrong?” his pecs bounced as he adjusted the towel. “It’s… I... uh... here. I… hope they fit...” “Me too, I already blew three of these fuckin things tonight. They just don’t make rubbers like they used to!" he laughed to himself. "I mean, man, it sucks, you know," he said, leaning in, lowering his masculine baritone a bit, "I have two babes worshiping me down there and these fucking rubbers don’t last a fucking second. Fuck! Can I take more?” I started at his enormous body... Too long, apparently. He raised his eyebrows and loudly cleared his throat. "Sure," I stammered out. “Thanks pal, you’re the best,” he said, bouncing his pecs again as he took the second handful of condoms. I couldn't help but watch him saunter away. For the next hour, I heard Bill absolutely trashing his dates. I decided those girls had to be waaaaaaay too drunk to scream like that. I soon found out, though, they weren't drunk at all. All the screaming and begging for more and "Oh God"'ing was because of, what I would later call, Bill's "Factor." I wouldn't understand any of it until much later. **** One day later that month, I was coming back to the house from school and was surprised to find Nick, tanning on the death-trap-patio above the main entrance. He was completely nude except for a tiny, little pair of white bikini underwear. Now, normally, he was that kind of guy that avoided sun at all costs, but apparently, "New Nick" had other ideas. I was dumbfounded and had to make a snarky comment, “Hey Nick, sunbathing?? You?” This got his attention and he stood up, moving dangerously close to the edge of the roof. The sun was glaringly bright, but I could still see he wasn't big as Bill, but was certainly getting close! I made special note of big swell his legs were showing. "You got a problem with that, Einstein?” he said, looking down on me, like a god surveying his property. “Hey, woah. No problem, man!” I shot back, trying to recall the last time Nick had been a dick to me. I couldn't remember a time, but then again, we never really interacted much. Maybe it was a bad day? I continued on into the house and managed to overhear him taking a phone call. He certainly wasn’t a dick to the person on the other end of the call! I began to wonder, "did I do something to him?" I found Chris fixing himself something to eat in our huge, common kitchen. He never cooked! I quickly took in his impressive new body. His enhanced curves and swells pulled his otherwise shiny, black UnderArmor outfit to the point of being translucent in places. “Hey, Chris, hungry enough to finally cook?” I managed to get out, fighting my suddenly dry mouth. “Yeah. I get hungry a lot, lately.” “Oh. I see… do you…” he turned to me, and my God, his pecs were the size of Bills! Maybe bigger! “…are…” His body stopped my brain, dead. “Are... what?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. His biceps exploded as he lifted a huge jar of water to his lips. He gulped and gulped, but some water spilled from his mouth and soaked his shirt. “err… uh... nothing...” I was sweating. When I first met Chris, we were about the same height and build. Not anymore. He was now quite a bit taller than me. I actually had to look up at his eyes. What. the. fuck!? What is going on?! Is it just me? Am I the only one noticing these sudden changes to my roommates? Am I going insane?! **** I gulped, “Well…uh... I guess you are on the right track…" My eyes followed his hands as they moved around his body, feeling and testing his mass. He paused and I looked back up into his eyes. He caught me staring, again! I had to distract, "but aren’t you concerned about how or why this insane muscle growth is happening? I mean, this sudden gain in size isn't norm--" “Yes… a little…" he interrupted. "But, I have a feeling that whatever this is, it's good for me... and it'sh beyond any of our control… you undershtan, Matthew?” I suddenly realized that he was drunk. “I… guess…” “I shaw that you started lookin at me in a different way, too…” he smiled at me with this cocky grin, totally out of character. “I…. What you mean?” My eyes jumped down to his hands as they cupped at his delicious-looking pecs. “Everyone should look at me the way you do…” Chris let his hands fall to his sides and balanced his weight on one hip. He looked at me through tipsy, yet expectant eyes. “Ok... Chris, lemme put it this way… you… are not exactly my type. You know? Just not a match." He actually looked disappointed! Then, a bit angry. Then, defiant. "I saw you checking me out." “Waaait a minute… you are like… growing bigger, right in front of me! What do you expect?” “And, it doesn’t turn you on?” He flexed his arm under my nose. Whatever gorgeous visage was standing before me and making me drool, I had to remember the person that lie beneath. “Look Chris, sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but…” I could see he was not happy. He had opened up to me and I was treating him like he's crazy for thinking anyone would be into him. I mean, he was a kid! More than three years younger than me and, besides, he had pet snakes and spiders. He was kinda creepy like that... He loved watching his pet predators killing their prey, up close. Growing muscles aside, that kid had problems that I didn’t want anything to do with. “Let’s be friends, okay?” “I understand...” he said coldly and turned his wide back to me. He didn’t talk to me for weeks after that night. I think he always thought of himself as a freak and I just validated those core fears-- I might have even made him feel worse! **** During those following weeks, the musclehead trio bought some free-weights to use in the house. They started to spot one another, spend all their time together, eat tons and tons of food together, and even go to clubs together. I tried to stay out of their way as much as possible. I'd even listen for their heavy footsteps around the old house so I could move around without incident. It wasn't a precise science, but with Bill's extra muscly pounds, I could at least hear where he was; from there I could kinda guess where the other two were. And, throughout every single day, dawn to dusk, I could hear at least one of them lifting weights in the garage. With their all-over size gains, it was hard to guess who was spending more time in there. Then, by early evening, they'd be pounding away at some new herd of slutty "friends." All three of them were fucking as many holes as they could. They didn’t even need to throw parties anymore-- the parties came to them. To the party clique, I was totally invisible. My witty banter couldn't compete with the guys flexing an arm. People just wanted to be near them. Chris was still struggling, though. He was an oddball at heart, and didn't always fit in-- Well, that wasn’t my problem! But, most of the time, I could walk around the party-packed house without any rude encounter. I'd just throw out the obligatory ‘hi’ now and then to the random faces I saw, and scoot along my merry way. But, when I'd actually see one of my roommates, in the center of the throng, I had to fight so hard not to stop and stare at their increasing muscular size. But what would stop me in my tracks, without fail, was the fact that their dicks were getting bigger, too. I think. Each of the guys, with their own clothing styles, managed to wear pants that clearly outlined every lump, flare, and vein of their increasingly huge alpha cocks. The boys now looked porn-star hung and didn't care who saw. It was getting more and more difficult the bigger and bigger they got. For the first month, it was relatively easy for me, but with their bodies lookin the way they do now... **** One day I got really hungry and was too tired to go out and grab food myself. So, I went to the fridge and grabbed some meat to cook-- our fridge overflowed with labeled chunks of various beasts, wrapped in plastic or covered on plates. I was really hungry and ate a whole portion of honey-roasted chicken breast. I didn’t realize the danger I'd put myself in. I turned around to see Nick standing in the doorway, and, man, did he explode at me: “What the FUCK are you DOING?” He was shirtless and huge, and had two of his "groupies" behind him. Nick was bigger than I ever seen him before. And, the last time I had seen him shirtless, he had 19’ arms. He was starting to look like a competitive bodybuilder! I jumped at his sudden appearance and the pure anger in his booming voice. “Man, I was hungry. I'm gonna replace it later when I go to the store! I'm--” his speed surprised me even more, given his new size. He was right up against me and, grabbing my neck, he lifted me in the air, choking the air from me. “You fucking PRICK! Who gave you permission to take MY food?” “I’m… sorry…” my feet were dancing in the air, scrabbling for something to alleviate the pressure on my neck. My face felt like It was gonna burst. “…I--" “Answer me!” “I… am…(gasp) answering… you(gasp)” The two swooning groupies, a blond and a ginger, begged Nick to he put me down after a minute or two. I crashed to the floor, gasping to breath. I coughed and looked up at him to see, much to my relief, that the girls had managed to soothe the beast. As the girls continued to rub themselves against his solid form, I saw his cock starting to swell and push out hard against he jeans. He groaned as the girls rubbed their tits on his arms and back, whispering in his ears about how strong and huge he was. His torn jeans barely held his legs muscles-- every lump and mound clearly visible, with the tough fabric stretched to near-transparency over his waist-thick quads. I found myself staring again. “Listen to me, you fucking idiot. Get my food now, or I’ll fucking rip your fucking arms off!" “Ok," was all I could manage as I scrambled to my feet, stunned. What the fuck was that?!! Roid rage?!! Jesus! He turned and strolled out of the room, leaning in to kiss each of the girls as they grabbed at his hunky muscles. Fuckin steroids! I rubbed my throat, thinking, and it dawned on me. Now I get why he named his band "Roid Rage!" He's fuckin' explosive! And fuckin psycho! About as psycho as the dumbass producer that actually seems interested in signing him. Maybe Nick attacked him like he did me just now, and the dudes too scared to say 'no.' My brain worked to quickly block out what had just happened and I started to ponder Nick's career. He's gonna get signed?? No way! He’s not that good! Not at all... He’s a prick. An immense prick. And dangerous, apparently! But, then there's that body... I followed his movement out of the kitchen and into the chill zone, where two more girls joined the threesome. They all fell onto a couch and basically started a little orgy right there in front of me. Nick was getting too dangerous to be this close to. He could have killed me, the fuck! What the hell could I do, though? Call the cops? Leave? In the end, I went out and bought two big packages of fresh meat which more than replaced what I'd eaten. **** I realized I was feeling fucking submissive. Hearing Nick call my name, or any mocking variation thereof, would knock the wind outta my sails, and he knew it-- Fucking bastard. He never exactly "bullied" me, but there was psychological torture that he definitely enjoyed putting me through. And, his new favourite torture was to tease me with his big muscles. He totally got off on how I got mesmerized by his size. He would even go as far as to taunt me by jumping on my lap, grinning that cocky, hot, alpha grin, and trace his finger along each muscle, going from group to muscle group, pointing out just how much bigger he was than me. I was just an average guy, with an average life and a slim, albeit defined, average body, but Nick... Nick was becoming this arrogant, swole, bulky muscle god-- and I hated that I loved watching it happen. It was quickly becoming hell to deal with Nick. ***** Bill seemed easier to deal with, at first. Even bigger than Nick, he at least started off with a bit of respect for me. But, I saw their growth was starting to do funny things on their heads. Some weeks ago, Bill asked me to take down any random messages that came in for him on the landline. (We all used that number as a dumping ground for spam calls, but I guess he was giving it out more frequently now.) What started as a favor turned me into his personal fucking assistant. He hated electronic stuff, so every email, every call, I had to be there or Bill-- William, I had to call him, now, to sound more "professional"-- otherwise, William would get pissed. He probably be even more pissed if he knew i often called him "Billy" in my head. He opened up to me and finally started talking about how his newfound, massive muscle gains were absolutely changing his life. He proudly went on to tell me about his financial windfalls. He'd grown huge and now he was gettin paid! BANK! His body was generating some serious cash revenue... People all over were sending him money for various reasons. He got a new computer for cam chats, several new phones to help track his progress, brand new cutting edge gym equipment, clothes, shoes, supplements, giant new flatscreens-- even a fancy, 3D, curved behemoth for us to use in the chill room. He got money to buy a chopper and was even given a modded Subaru WRX-somethingerother. He was as surprised as I was! He had no idea that people would actually pay just to touch him. And, neither of us could've ever imagined exactly just how much his "fans" were actually willing to pay! Turned out, by doing absolutely nothing cept flexing on cam and maybe dancing a bit, he was making more per month than both my parents, combined!! I had to admit, tho, he'd gotten to the point where I could totally understand why. He was prime, huge, alpha stud. So Bill paid me to be his personal assistant, which barely put food on my table. I saw the money coming in and quickly decided I deserved a bigger cut. But, typical mousy me, I didn't have the balls to mention it. Granted, greed aside, he was being nice to me as it was... and I did really, really enjoy the primary perk of the job: getting up-close, VIP-level, nearly unlimited access, to behind-the-scenes views of that fuckin huge-ass body! Bill-- William-- was now proudly sporting guns that broke the twenty inch mark weeks ago. He had always been a jock, not necessarily intelligent, or "book smart," I guess you could call it, but he was certainly smart enough to manipulate the hell outta people. **** Once, in his newest gift, a badass truck, I was complaining about friggin Nick when Bill suddenly interrupted me. “Man, you remember that night you freaked out because we were growing…?” “Yeah...” I asked cautiously, quietly impressed that his muscular frame was taking up my entire view. I realized that even with our new working "relationship," we'd never actually discussed that night. “We were playing dumb… Of course we knew it was happening!" Finally! The validation made me smile, inwardly. "C’mon, do you really think that…” he flexed his monstrous bicep pretty much in my face “…that we wouldn't notice... this?” “oh, really...” I let the sarcasm roll off my tongue. “Those days, you couldn’t stop staring at us. It was so funny!" That snapped my mouth shut! I began to blush-- I wasn't expecting that hard truth! I wasn't ready to admit anything to anybody about my inner feelings; I certainly wasn't ready to openly discuss it with Bil-- William-- right here, right now! “What the hell you are talking about, William?” I tried to feign ignorance then anger. He stopped the car at a light and faced me, “Look at my body, bro. I know what you're thinking..." I gulped, my throat suddenly dry, “Oh? What am I thinking, William?” He grinned at me, that cocky alpha sneer, for an uncomfortably long time. He grabbed inside his collar with both hands and tore his shirt halfway down his torso, exposing his gorgeous chest to me. The ripping motion made his pecs bounce into view, swollen with an unnatural weight. I literally lost my breath. My jaw went slack. Bill was so huge that my brain couldn’t compute. I reacted like a girl seeing a penis for the first time. My eyes were everywhere, trying to take it all in. I actually felt an embarrassing rivulet of drool slide along my lower lip. The traffic light had long since turned green, but neither of us cared. He shifted in his seat and grabbed at his bulging crotch. My eyes couldn't help but follow. "Now, you're thinking about the size of my horse cock." He grinned after that matter-of-fact statement. I couldn’t even react because that was exactly what I was thinking. I could only make out lumps and curves, exaggerated by the glow of the truck's console. A car behind us beeped in annoyance and we started moving again, but William kept his hand pressed on his crotch. As we rolled along the street, the evenly-placed street lights began to animate a beautiful thickness, creeping down his thigh. The surreal flip-card show ended abruptly as we pulled into a parking lot and, Bam! There, in his tight pants, the fine details of this massive snake were illuminated-- the lump was just the base, and halfway down his huge thigh sat the most well-known shape in the history of modern man. The drool fell heavily off my lower lip. “It's over ten inches, dude." “…ten…” I dragged the back of my hand across my lips, absent-mindedly trying to wipe away any more tell-tale drool. The slurping sound was abnormally loud. “Each month, a new inch, Matt... Can you believe that?! Fuckin awesome!! An inch a month! Fuckin sex god, right here, bro!" My eyes followed his hand down to the plump cock head clearly outlined by, and straining against, the fabric of his shorts. I licked my lips. "What if we don’t stop growing, man? Can you imagine...?” He kinda trailed off, lost in his own fantasy. His cock flexed hard against his shorts, the mushroom tip starting to peek out from the stretched leg opening. “This is just the beginning, Mat... can you fuckin imagine?” I didn’t have to imagine! It was real. This tank's shoulders took up almost the entire width of the front seats. I was being pressed against my door just sitting next to him. His big-ass cock was now threatening to rip his pants if it grew any longer or harder. I forced my eyes shut and tried to imagine what it would be like to actually have sex with this guy. I would be squashed like those bugs on the windshield. I'd have to hold on to his massive frame for dear life, constantly pushing back against him just to get a breath! I could easily fit on his lap, my legs wrapped around his tiny waist, if I were lucky enough to be given the option to ride him. Then I could focus on surviving all 10+ inches pummeling my insides with animal abandon, it's arrow-straight thickness reinforced by the tree trunk enormity of his quads, flexed hard against the seat of the car. The painful hardness of my own cock suddenly ripped me from my fantasy. Shit!! OMG! I was ready to explode! My rod was clearly tenting out my shorts. I was oozing pre-cum. Dangerously close to "go time." I froze in fear, embarrassment, lust, everything... paralyzed. A sliver of clear liquid inched down my inner thigh. He could do whatever he wanted with me. We locked eyes. And, I would let him. Not that fighting against him would make any difference. And, I would love it. He kept looking over at me with that arrogant grin shining across his huge muscular frame. Bill knew I was trapped-- my senses, lust, fantasies, all locked me up, rendering me totally unable to think properly. I felt completely invaded by his gaze and control over me. “...are- are you going to rape me?” I've never been harder or more horny. I ached. My puppy-dog eyes belied my feigned surface fear, desperately pleading for him to take me. God, how I wanted him to push me down, hold me in place, and just destroy me-- to just fuck me hard. I heard myself whisper in the faintest of secret breaths, "Please--" I could feel the truck shaking. He was howling with laughter! "Hey, Mat, you are so fuckin funny!!" He patted me hard on the shoulder. "That’s exactly what every fuckin client of mine wants! But you might have actually had that pleasure!" Another rough pat on my shoulder shook me totally back to reality. "Fuckin crazy, man! People all around me, hoping I'd actually rape them. Isn’t that fucked up!?" I could only nod. "Grab me another shirt from those boxes in back.” I didn’t know what to think. Did he get his huge cock hard in front of me as some kinda joke? Was ripping his shirt off just a mind fuck? If so, these were games I would always lose. I recovered a bit more and asked, “Are you sure these people don't want normal sex, not… uh... to be raped…?" What a weird topic of conversation. And, damn, his cock was still as hard as before. I busied myself with finding a new matching shirt for him in the pile of boxed clothes, stuffed in the back of the truck's extended cab. “That’s the weird thing, before all this growth I had this girlfriend that I fucked on daily basis. Her mother fuckin hated me. It was worse with her dad. They totally despised me... But as soon as I realized every hot-ass chick in sight was startin to get all up on me, I dropped my girl faster than flaming shit." I pulled out a XXL polo and handed it to William. "So, last week she called me again. She said she missed me and all that bullshit. I went to her pad to bang her one more time; kinda a goodbye/sympathy fuck. But, when I walked into the living room and her hater family saw me, all brand new, with these swole-ass guns and big-ass pecs…” Bill pulled off the rest of his destroyed shirt. I could hardly pay attention to his story, every move was an explosion of huge tanned muscle. His old shirt was basically glued to his body and the new polo was no different. He pulled it down, covering his godly torso. It was like an angelic light had been suddenly shut off. I could think again! But, was immediately entranced by his cloth-covered, massive pecs, lit perfectly by the lot's security lights. And, his bis!! Good God! They were like footballs tucked under flesh! Everything pressed against his strained shirt, bouncing and bunching as he continued his story, talking loudly with his hands. “...and then, I had her fuckin mother, under the table, suckin on my cock while her fuckin daughter was taking a shower for our date! Unreal, bro!" My eyes fixated on his cock again. "I could fuck anyone in that family. Haha! I came on the old bitch’s face while her wimp-ass husband was sitting right in the other room! I made sure he knew what was goin on, but he kept pretending it wasn’t happening! Man, I totally dominated that fuckin family. Talk about change of respect.” Shit. God. When is William gonna do that to me? Bend me over, break me in, make me a slave to his every whim? Am I gonna have to act like a dog and beg? Get on the ground and look up at him, "Please fuck my face, sir?" What if he doesn't like it, tho? The possible punishments... Would he crush me? Never talk to me again? The truck's windows had completely fogged over and it was friggin sweltering inside. “So, uh, William, let’s go back home?” “Nah, let’s go inside." “Hooligan’s? Isn't this the place that Nick plays?” “Yah. Always a lotta chicks. Haha! Look at my fuckin cock! It's ready to go all night, bro! It ain't gonna rest til I sink it deep!” His arrogance shot right to my dick again. Hot. And, Hello? Billy! I'm right here, mouth open, totally fucking wanting to suck you dry! Right here, fucker! Don't even have to get outta the car. He swung his door open, “I’ll fuck the first set'a huge titties I see! Promise you!” He wasn't even really talking to me anymore, but I didn’t doubt it. Waking side by side towards the club, anyone could see who the real man was. Bill towered over me with his 6’6" or 6’7"-- I wasn’t sure anymore. There was a pretty long line to get in, but William pushed right through everyone, his 10 incher rock solid, bumping asses, and totally on display. The line of generic people hushed as he moved through them. Bill was hunting for a good-looking girl to fuck. Of the hundred or so people, he zoomed in on a decent-looking brunette. She knew she'd been chosen-- her pupils dilated and nipples got hard. She tried to look away as he approached, but went crazy with lust when she finally got a full view of him. He grabbed at his crotch while she feverishly groped his arms and pecs, then, without a word, they pushed out of the line, and tucked around a nearby corner. Bill started to fuck her, right there, in a nasty little alley, just three or four steps off the busy sidewalk where everyone was waiting. Flashes of flesh and clothing would briefly pop into view, writhing and whipping around, giving visual to the unmistakeable sounds of hungry sex audible just under the walla of the crowd. Watching the edge of the wall long enough it was easy to tell he was ramming her from behind, standing, pressing her up against the wall. To Billy, it was quite normal, I think. But to me and others keen to the show, it felt beyond surreal... A cheesy porno plot made real, right before a shocked audience's eyes. To the normal Joe, this would never even begin to take place, but with his model-boy, chiseled looks, his enormously pumped, muscular body, and his 10"-and-growing Magnum dick, all powered by his alpha cockiness and sex drive, this was an expected, regular event for Billy. A typical weeknight, really. After a solid 10 or so minutes, Billy was making his way back to the front door, still stuffing his deflating cock back in his pants. “Shit man, I fucking ruined her clothes.” I looked past Billy and saw her walking back to her friends, with her dress in rags, completely soaked with his cum and sweat. She could've been ashamed of herself, being so openly and quickly dominated and fucked, but instead, wore her fucked-up hair as a trophy. Her friends were asking all about it and him-- they envied her! Wow. What the fuck was going on? He was a total dick to this random bar chick and she still wanted more. Billy was ready to go inside and didn’t give a shit about the line. He pushed to the front and I noticed none of the doormen made moves to stop him. I was pulled inside right behind Bill, but I quickly moved off to the side for a second, so I could adjust to the loud, dark nightclub. My mind was still reeling from the previous 20 minutes, and I was still in shock over the stuff with Billy in the truck. Shake it off. **** While Bill was being showered with attention, I sat at the bar and ordered a beer. Sipping at it and getting lost in thought, someone patted me on the shoulder. Turning around I saw Nick looking down at me, over and between his pecs; his wifebeater left nothing to the imagination, helping to show off their size and symmetry. He squinted his eyes at me before shouting over the noise, “Hey girls! The music critic is finally gracing us with his presence!" In an instant whirlwind, I was thrust into the center of Nick’s ‘friends'-- people whose lives were spent in his shadow, agreeing with any stupid bullshit thing that came out of his mouth. The "yes" crowd. But, man, he certainly did have a lot of these ‘friends.' “I come in peace, Nick,” I yelled over the music, trying to sound cool. “You have to, bro. Joe, tell him what happened to the last… critic." Joe was the original bandleader, the alpha, the number one, the rising star, before Nick’s unexplainable growth. Now, he was a zombie like the others. “Haha! All I remember was him having his mouth too full to talk any shit, right Nick?” The laughed. “Yeah, dude, his face was fuckin hilarious!! But, he -was- begging for it, wasn’t he girls?” All the chicks swooned in agreement. “Tooootally,” said one punk girl as she patted and ran her fingers along Nick's cock bulge. It had to be a full moon! Two muscle-monster roommates of mine, basically threatening to rape me on the same day! Nick adjusted his cock to help it snake down his leg while the punk groupies rubbed him. It grew obscenely large, incredibly quickly. Two other girls were feeling him from behind, cupping at his pecs, squeezing his bis, but none of that stopped him from glaring down at me with a sneer. He flared his muscular back and the two babes gasped and moaned as they continued feeling him up. Hands were everywhere, dwarfed by his frame. It made me suddenly realize, as he flexed, that he'd grown so massive, he now rivaled most pro bodybuilders I'd seen pictures of! He was wearing some kind of purple dark unitard beneath the white wifebeater-- clothes only a Mexican luchador would choose-- clothes that managed to make every line of his growing cock and thick-ass legs stand out with a bright, glowing shine. He was looking like a glam-ish version of Conan, the Barbarian. He was just plain huge. Everyone looked like children next to his 6’5", thick, broad frame. “Show time! Means, time for you to go, critic!" He shoved me away, with a wink. "Later, you gotta tell me what you think of my show!" As could be expected for a band called "Roid Rage," their show was a bunch of guys torturing instruments and insulting their audience. It couldn't even be classified as thrash metal. It was just noise, a very loud noise, created just to deafen any ear. Of course, the primary focus of their stage show was Nick, lit by spots, destroying a guitar and yelling at a microphone. His guitar was a cheap piece of crap because it wouldn’t survive that night. By my side was an older guy, an odd figure amidst the clubgoers. He was entranced by the spectacle. and when Nick ripped off his sweaty wifebeater, this guys eyes practically burst into cartoony dollar signs. Apparently, he was a low-life unsuccessful music producer. Needless to say, he quickly became Nick's producer, but thankfully, and just as quickly, he faded into the background, becoming just another sex slave, worshiping at the altar of Nick's neverending growth. But, for the moment, he was just another guy who couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nick’s crotch. I realized that I had lost track of Bill, and he was nowhere to be seen. He was probably off fucking some girl(s). Some stupid lucky hoes. Some pretty, titty, trashy tramps that... weren't... me. Huh. Was I actually pissed that he was off long-dickin some gutter skanks when he should really be fucking me? Did I fall that hard for him, or, shit... them... that fast? Fuck!! My dick was sprung imagining Billy and Nick just destroying some faceless bar whores, but my heart was aching in an ugly jealousy that it wasn't me being banged unconscious by the two godly studs. Their lives were suddenly heavenly-- like twin white-hot suns, scorching to ash everything they looked upon. It made me think of Kafka’s Metamorphosis; it was about a twenty-something guy turning into a repulsive, very fragile giant cockroach. Enduring this transformation took everything he had. He survived, only to die in the end from hunger and loss, abandoned by all, even his family. It was a fucking sad story. Really. But here, it was the complete opposite-- it was Kafka antimatter! Each day, these boys were getting more and more appealing to everyone around them... Forcing a kind of pervasive mob-mentality onto the throngs of slack-jawed groupies, brain-washing them all into living for one thing, and one thing only, the worship of their bodies-- their muscles, their enormous biceps and pecs and quads-- their unchecked egos, their alpha male monster cocks, their insatiable appetites. Each day, their power and control grew, and their true prime alpha status became more and more obvious. And, stuck at ground zero? Little ol me. I've been forced to watch this whole... ascension... from the very beginning! I couldn’t hold in my own shameless desires for Nick and Billy any longer. Each day, I felt would finally be the day where I crumble and give in to my lust. My addiction was becoming harder and harder to feed. Sometimes, I'd find myself hiding in some cramped corner in the garage just to watch Bill work out. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that tomorrow they will actually be bigger. Bill's musings in the truck that day started to dominate my thoughts: when it will stop? Will it stop? What if they turn into giants, fucking and devouring everything in sight? They weren't anywhere near that point yet, but, my god, these boys were pushing all the right envelopes already. The sound of Nick obliterating his guitar ripped me out of my reverie. His massive frame filled my vision, abuptly interrupted by someone handing me a thick blunt. I glanced briefly at the generous club-goer, shrugged, and took a nice, long, suffocating hit. Nick was moving into a hard double-bi pose, his hips thrust forward, showing off that mouth-watering monster cock. It was just there, on full display under his sprayed-on skinny jeans. The crowd went wild with the sound of the guitar screaming as Nick jerked its dangling strings like some bitch's hair he was holding in place to slap with his dick. The high from the pot helped me finally realize that everyone in this nightclub was sharing the same nasty fantasies I was. We all wanted, minimum, to feel Nick’s iron muscles. Some were even shamelessly begging at Nick's feet, high up on the stage, while others were desperately fighting those insane urges. The latter few were the most amusing to watch; big dudes who thought of themselves as alpha males, realizing in shame that they all utterly paled in comparison to Nick. The deafening band was horrible, but Nick didn't need anything to command the respect of the club. In the center of the screeching noise, I could just make out a devouring kind of energy being evoked; it was chaotic like a hurricane and destructive like a tsunami. I had never heard anything like that. The interesting part of this metaphor was that Nick, essentially in the eye of the storm, was actually fueling the whole hurricane on stage. He spun and whipped, full of energy, full of muscle and veins, swollen and pumped like hell. And, suddenly, a pulse of light and thump of bass was the last… whatever this was. I found myself thinking the show was actually way too short. Everyone shouted and begged for more, but the band-- Nick-- didn’t give a shit. I was gasping for air like everyone in the club when I felt an unnatural, roaring heat behind me. I wavered a bit on my feet and bumped straight into something painfully hard and massive. I turned to figure out what the hell piece of furniture was suddenly behind me only to be shocked that the mass was fuckin Bill’s quad. I looked up at him, reeling, "Hey-hi, Bill! Uh... Where were you?” “Backstage. Fucking some twins." He said it so blasé. “Oh… uh..." I quickly understood why he was so hot-- I mean, his body temperature. You get the idea. Some other girls came to talk to Bill, but he just shoved them away, "Let’s go find Nick!” he said as he took my arm and pulled me backstage. We pushed through the decorations and people and I was stopped in my tracks. There, in the middle of everything and everyone, was Nick, sprawled on a ratty couch, getting his beautiful, giant cock worked over by an absolutely on point blonde hottie. He drained his beer and hurled it at the nearest wall. It exploded in glass, just adding to the nearly impassible layers of debris on the floor. Cans, glass, scraps of food and clothes, cigarette butts, baggies... all manner of shit made me scared to move for fear of falling on my face and catching hep-C. But, then Nick spotted me. “So, critic! I've been waiting all night! How many stars?” People went quiet when Nick spoke. Everyone looked at me. I had no words when Nick stood up, the blond still sucking his cock. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her off his tool. I could see in her eyes that she wanted to be treated like that. Every girl in this room wanted to be Nick’s whore. He casually tucked his huge hard cock inside the weird glam fatigued leotard he'd changed in to. “Answer me!" I jumped. “It... Uh... It was chaotic, like a hurricane. Destructive, like a tsunami." Everyone looked back at Nick, waiting for his reaction. Bill was the only one chuckling. “That’s a good one… I like it!" Nick said, thoughtfully. “Good review. You're safe, for tonight.” It hurt my pride, but I said, “thanks.” I was spared the public humiliation of being forced to deep throat Nick's amazing cock, but I had conflicting feelings about it. He fell back onto the couch and resumed his private sex show. I left before he changed his mind about publicly raping my throat. (to be continued ... )
  9. GiganticBeast

    Gb's Dark Tales

    I am a very normal guy. Ish...sorta...sometimes. Very growth obsessed, as we all know, (or should know by now!) and have had countless years to focus on all kinds of fantasies and 95% of them are all wholesome and good, but every so often I want something more...I want something darker and that's where this thread is going to come in handy! This is by no means a thread for everyone, it has some topics and scenes some may find offputting! (which is why I'm posting it here!) For instance, in this story scene here, there is a woman who grows. But before you close the thread right away, let me explain. I'm a Bi giant beast man, and I've come across SO many growth stories online which deal with "turning the tables" as it were where the girl outgrows the guy. There's even a scene from time to time where the guy reclaims the power only to be trumped later on. I hate that part! With me, it's about the dominance, the POWER and that is something ONLY reserved for the men in my stories. So let me assure you, not all of these stories will have girls growing, but every single one of them will have the main theme of POWER in the absolute WRONG hands! Men who have no RIGHT to grow, and who will cause all kinds of mayhem and chaos and destruction! SO without further ado, enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The smell of the gasoline soaked burning wooden crosses filling the night air with a singeing acrid stench as the loud revelling echoed into night. The hollering cheering group of hatemongers cheering on as the helpless and hopeless were lynched and burned. Some of them hiding their faces with the long flowing white hoods, while others, even more brazen in their hate just wore plain clothes, so proud to be carrying out their twisted view of “God’s work” they want everyone to know! The crowd let out a few catcalls and slurs as the final victim was dragged up, the lithe woman still rebellious to the end after having just watched her father and husband killed senselessly. “You understand your charges? You witch, turning the minds of men with your fucking magic, making them think terrible thoughts all so you can drag them to your bed! For that only ONE sentence is appropriate!” The burly Klansman held her noose in hand staring at her, his thick bulge obvious as he ogled her curvy form, clearly falling victim to that aforementioned witchcraft! While she WAS a healer and a voodoo priestess, she’d only ever used the lessons passed on from her mother to help others, and now this muscled brute was going to end her life. Defiant to the end, she spat one last time, as the Klan leader strung her to the cross, the rage building inside of her, a darkness a seething burning hatred that could no longer be kept inside! It felt like her soul as screaming out of her body as she spit out the curse! "I swear you scum anything you do to me shall be returned to you TENFOLD!" she spat again, as the burly Klansmen struck her delicate face. "Shut your mouth you fucking whore!" he leaned in, closely, sniffing her and giving a lick across her smooth sweatsoaked cheeks "It's a shame that mouth of yours is so fucking filthy because I could think of a dozen better uses for it!" he leaned in giving her a kiss before she bit his tongue, causing him to lash out and strike her again, and damned if he couldn't feel a shock just as bad if not worse than a suckerpunch! Reeling from this, he stood back adjusting his robe, before ordering them to light her up. It was at that point he noticed her starting to moan and writhe on her stake. Far from the fear that was gripping her just moments ago, she was feeling more aroused than she ever had in her life! A warmth spreading over her, and it made him feel just as horny, his mind drawn to her full figure, her firm perky tits, everything about her made him want to fuck! This revelation hitting him just as he watched her breathing get quicker! The ropes starting to fray as she looked just as confused as everyone else! She let out another shrill moan as she suddenly SURGED up, her body bursting free of her restraints as she fell to her knees in orgasmic pleasure! From the center of the crowd rushed out the girl’s mother, the old woman smiling, watching her daughter moaning and overcome with the pleasure of this last minute spell, she was proud of saving her daughter's life like this! "IT worked! NOW my daughter you'll be unstoppable, a black goddess able to crush every one of these fuckers!" and the girl started to grin, stroking herself and feeling her body swell and grow against the hot summer ground! The klansmen backing up in fear as she swelled to 10ft, then 15ft! She never felt so...so POWERFUL! Her foot easily kicking aside one of the men who dared approach her! “EVERY ONE OF YOU FUCKERS IS DEAD!” she laughed, stomping once again the screams of terror of the little bigoted men suddenly falling hushed! She stood, confused as their attention was drawn behind her! Turning around slowly, she felt her heart stop! Watching that burly Klan leader stroking his cock through his robe, his body starting to heave with each deep breath! Every single person was losing their minds, but he was there, up on the hill stroking, and his obvious bulge was getting MORE and MORE obvious! He looked down at himself, watching the veins pulse up and down his thick hairy forearms, feeling his heart pounding faster as he stared up at the 15ft tall amazon. "YOU FUCKING WITCH! What have you DONE TO ME!?!" he moaned his body overwhelmed with the most intense orgasm of his life, as his cock literally tore free of his pants and his robe, throbbing thicker and through the open noose as he held it in his hand! Watching as the beast continued to grow with each thick rope of cum he fell to his knees as he watched the veins pulsing further up his arms and he could feel his shirt growing tighter under the flowing robe! Button bursting after button as he let out a deep guttural groan, which slowly twisted into a laugh! “You did this! You made me UHnnnnnn You made me GROW with your stupid fucking curse! You stupid little GIRL!!” he boomed with laughter as he was just 8ft tall, but by this point his cock stretched down even further, as another orgasm hit his powerful growing body, his arms stretching down his body, growing all the way to the ground as he jerked and spasmed swelling out of control! Watching his biceps fill with powerful thickening muscle as he flexed outwards feeling his lats balloon out so wide his shirt literally BURST off his frame as his arms pushed so far up his shoulders were pressing against his ears! “Mother what have you DONE!?” the amazon cried, terrified, unable to move her orgasmic growth finished at 15ft but still held in the afterglow, and the terror of this hulking hairy brute swelling in front of her! Her mother was in just as bad a state as the growing monster of a man who had just hit the 16ft mark plastered her in cum! “OH GOD it’s just not Uhhnnnn STOPPING!” he groaned barely able to talk, feeling his pecs bulge so thick they pressed against his chin! His hairy sweaty body looming over her now and shuddered as every single ab swelled outwards the thick snaking veins pulsing them into a burly musclegut, as his biceps throbbed so full he could no longer bend his lengthening arms! Struggling now to stay on his knees, moving them apart as his thick quads pressed against one another, the muscled thighs so massive they were running out of space to grow! The crowd cheering now! No longer afraid, but loving every minute, unknowing that this musclebound monster was pumping out so many pheromones that every man and woman in the crowd was overcome with an orgasmic sense of euphoria, even the once rebellious amazon felt herself was too turned on to stop herself from grinding her legs together in awe! His cock stretching down to just a few feet above the ground, pouring precum at this point as his hairy body only got thicker! “OH GOD it’s still HAPPENING i’m still GROWING how much BIGGER am I uhhnnn gonna GET you whore? I’m a FREAK already!” he bellowed shouting down at the flinching amazon before it hit him...10 times...10 times as BIG!? Again he spurted another jet of cum over the crowd, unable to stop himself from growing as he hit 20ft tall! “FUCK you’re making me SO BIG! Do you SEE uhhnnn OH FUCK Do you SEE what you’re DOING to me!?” he groaned punching the ground, his muscles jerking as hundreds of pounds of mass were pumped onto his growing frame every single second! Rising once again to his knees the monster hit 30ft then 40ft his booming guttural groans getting so LOUD they could be heard in the next county, he was trapped here, swelling and growing out of control until his cock let out another throbbing spurt of cum and swelled down to touch the ground once again! But it grew so thick the noose cut off circulation like the worlds tightest cockring! The huge low hanging balls swelling as he felt his body shudder and stop growing! Realizing that he had stopped the growth for now, he let out a snarl “OH YOU DESERVE A SPECIAL THANK YOU FOR THIS! FOR MAKING ME SO fucking BIG!” he laughed, realizing his true place wasn’t doing god’s work, it was BEING a GOD!” The amazon let out a terrified shudder as she felt herself revolted by and so turned on by this hulking monster, she wanted nothing more than to see him dead, but now her body NEEDED that massive cock inside her and as he loomed over to grab her she didn't so much as flinch!
  10. This is an old story that I haven't quite yet finished. It's a different style to my usual stuff and is a bit clinical intentionally to help build a scene. What do you think should I carry on with it...? It's a slow burner so be patient Enjoy TC 28 DAYS BEFORE part 1 and 2 by Tattcub THE DAYS BEFORE THE 28 DAYS AFTER I never know where to start when people ask for my story. To be honest there are some days when I don't know what a keyboard is let alone type on one. There are some days when IT'S ALL ABOUT THE MUSCLE. That's it. Plain and simple. Here's my story, learn something from it while you still can and while I am still with you. We all know about the virus. It took the world by storm, turning everyone who became infected by it into slavering beasts of muscle. They were satisfied only by sex and seemed to become stronger and stronger the more they got. It is now know where the virus came from, well it wasn't a secret. It was me. I did it. I was it's inventor and the father of this brave new world HA.HA. I didn't realise what I was about to unleash would change everything. Please note the D designations are over a period of six months. They are just 28 moments I remember that brought all of this crashing down around our ears. D-28 My name is Damien Clements and I am a biochemist specialising in the field of sports medicine and nutrition. I have always been fascinated by the human body and its ability to overcome stress and adversity. I have studied every type of body dysmorphia there is and am something of and expert in the field. I have several colleagues whose skills and knowledge range from basic nutrition to psychophysiology. We are all involved in a secret government think tank known as the Proteus Group. Our job within the think tank is to come up with new ways man can adapt to the harsh environmental conditions on the planet in places that are still left to explore. The Arctic, deep deserts and the sea etc. As a group some of our experiments range from cross breeding crops to deal with tough conditions to gene splicing and manipulation. Okay before you start judging bear in mind I said we were secret not ethical. We are or rather we were a group of scientists given a carte blanche for our research and a blank cheque to go with it. If you were in my position you would have done the same given that sort of opportunity. We had been together for three years and were beginning to show some results on a particularly difficult problem. The main problem with spreading genetic information is how to transmit that information from and outside source into a host body. You can't just inject it as the hosts own immune system would recognise it as alien and destroy it. We had some disasters with that method I can tell you. Although now looking back at the notes and videos of the tests one or two are strangely arousing. All that growth... D-27 Damien Clements reporting on test no #112 We'd already decided to forget testing on lower forms I.E bacteria to molluscs and suchlike. Over the last 6 months we had made massive strides in our testing and had determined that a viral delivery system was the best way to transmit the genetic data we had isolated on the Alexander test. (please note that is under separate filing in data section 277 beta) Viral delivery was clean and fast and could be injected directly into a host subject. Our initial problem was which virus could contain that much genetic information without a) destroying itself destroying the information and c) Infecting the host with it's actual malady. To be honest it was the last point that the group had had problems with the most. Trying to toughen a cats skin to make it burn resistant isn't nice to see when the specimen breaks out in bloody sores all over your notes. It's also a wasteful use of the specimen. I have lost count over the number we've had to destroy in the last 6 months alone. We at least have an unlimited line of credit in getting more. Trying the various de-activated viral agents was time consuming until one of the others, David Simmons came up the idea of actually using a bacteria and a virus together. We infected the virus with the gene data and the bacteria with the virus. It was a particularly aggressive strain of Ebola (De-activated) Very contagious and spread by body fluids so we already had a good method of introduction into a hosts system. The body would fight and destroy the bacteria but would be too late to kill the virus as it would have had time to proliferate while the host destroyed the bacterial carrier. Sort of a message in a bottle in a bottle. The next test with a cat was a success. The skin toughened to such a degree that it was hard to scratch with surgical needles. Not impervious but a great start. The cat also exhibited slight increase in aggressive tendencies and put on about half a kilo. It was also very hard to get back into it's the one time it escaped. D-26 Clements report no: #223 We've now done several days testing with the delivery system and it works. Everyone is elated here. We're still collating the data but if things pan out as we have predicted we're going to start manipulation of the gene structures for more complicated changes to the test subjects physiology. We've decided to change from cats to something less aggressive. A few of our techs have been scratched or bitten by their charges so we've opted for guinea pigs. Clichéd I know but they really don't bite so much. The one thing we can't explain on the skin tests are the slight changes to muscle size and density. Nothing major but small increases on almost every subject. Reminds me of Alexander. We're not ready to start on muscle work yet. There are a lot of other considerations first, skeleton and other organs first I think. We decided to go slow and steady and not allow our success to cloud our judgement. David Simmons is ecstatic as the delivery system was his idea. I tried to suggest we continue to strengthen the system but Simmons insists on more testing first just in case there's any degradation or mutation in the genetic structures. D-25 Clements report no: # 245 It's been a week since we upgraded the delivery system and made the bacteria far more aggressive a delivery system. Simmons complained as usual but the stronger package means we can put more complex genetic instructions into the viral messenger. We've even Christened the project we're calling the viral system Project Nuncio. It's derived from a Latin term that means envoy. Nuncios were messengers from the Pope who had the powers to cross most boarders on Papal missions. Quite apt really. I have decided that we are ready to take the next steps and begin the inner physical augmentation sequences within the next week. We've seen some great progress with the skin and epidermal experiments. Next it's muscle and bones. The only downside so far that has been noted is the over stimulation of various of the guinea pigs hormone production glands more so in the males than in the females. D-24 Clements report no: #257 Okay now we're cooking with gas, to coin a phrase. We've had near enough a 100% success rate with the new Nuncio delivery system. It's performed better than any of us dared hope. The type of genetic information transmitted this way seems to be unrestricted in size or complexity. We've managed to augment the skeletal structures on numerous guinea pigs. They're structure and strength have improved by about 500 % in some cases. A prime example is when one of the specimens was being removed from a test gantry and was dropped about 20 ft into a ventilation duct that was opened for a maintenance inspection. The creature barely even noticed and started grooming itself. We are also noticing heightened sexual activity in some of the offspring of the test subjects. Even though these animals are naturally highly sexed. Onwards and upwards. I have scheduled the musculature enhancement series to start from tomorrow. D-23 Simmons report no #221 I am adding this to the record as my protest to the enhancement test being accelerated. Clements' judgement is clouded by our recent amazing success. I know that my delivery system made this happen faster but it doesn't make me any less uneasy about the speed with which we're progressing or the corners that some of my colleagues are cutting. We're scientists and we know full well the penalty for going against the natural order without due care. I will be making an official complaint after the first tests tomorrow morning. D-23 Clements report no #259 We had the first successful delivery of the musculature genome sequences this morning. We used one of the guinea pigs that had already had the bone restructuring sequence. So far no side effects or adverse reactions from the animal. I can't say the same for Simmons, somehow the restraining tape used on the animal broke after the test and Simmons went to recover the animal. It turned aggressive and managed to bite him on the palm of his right hand. Simmons received medical treatment for the small cut and as the animals are screened of any other infections he was cleared for duty even though he was given a broad spectrum anti-biotic just to be sure. I'll file all of the relevant data on the animal once the gene sequences have had a chance to work. D-21 Simmons report #225 We started the muscle augmentation tests yesterday. We'd injected the agent into the guinea pig and all was well. It was about half an hour into the test that the creature somehow managed to free itself from it's restraint and get out. I managed to corner and retrieve it but not before it bit me. I received treatment for the small bite and a shot of "just in case." That was yesterday. Anyway it was a small bite and doesn't even hurt any more. It healed very quickly. I also want to add that I made my complaint to the higher ups yesterday. We shall see what happens next. D-20 Clements report #262 Simmons has really stirred up the hornets nest. Apparently he reported myself and several colleagues for cutting corners and unscientific practices. Doesn't he realise we're on the cusp of something truly amazing. If things work as we have planned for so long we've got the keys to cure so many of the worlds ills. He's being a fool. I must try and reason with him. I can't at the moment as he called in this morning sick. He'd been checked after his bite but there was no bacteria infection from the guinea pig bite he had last week. D-19 Simmons personal. 17. I was contacted today. Top brass is concerned about my recent report and want me to take a deeper look into my colleagues activities. Thing is I know what they've been doing I just want them to slow it down. My bite from the other day has healed fully which is a little odd considering how deep the wound seemed to be. Ah well. I guess I was lucky. I am feeling slightly fluey though. Feverish and antsy even. Maybe even a little horny. I can't seem to settle. I feel as if my skin is moving. Must be the anti-biotics, D-18 Simmons Personal. 18. Has been a few days since I last made an entry and I am happy to report that I think I got over the little bug I had and to be honest I feel great! The anti-biotics worked a treat. I even think they sorted out the little bit of acne I had. I must admit I am feeling quite horny too. As if some-thing's been switched on somewhere. After the last couple of days feeling under the weather it seems as if all my senses have gone into overdrive. Everything appears a little sharper and in focus. Everything feels great, even sensual and I walked past Clements this morning and even though he's an egotistical prick he smelled great. I still feel a little sore though. I also think I've put on a few pounds over the last few days mainly because I've been eating like a horse. Whatever bug I had did nothing to suppress my appetite. I am back to work tomorrow. I am going to take up the investigation into Clements activities then. D-17 Clements report #271 After several days off sick Dr Simmons will be returning to duty tomorrow morning. It is good to have him back at this important stage. We are ramping up the test series because of the amazing results we've had so far. I am going to set up a full bone and muscle augmentation series on some of our smaller primates. I know Dr Simmons will have something to say about this but this is my operation and this will go ahead. The results have been too encouraging to stop now. D17-Clements personal. (file number unknown) So Simmons is back. Sanctimonious little shit. I cannot believe he would jeopardise the entire project by going behind my back and whining to the top brass. We have worked to hard to get to this point. Guinea pigs were to much for him. If he thought that wait till he sees the monkey. That will blow his mind and maybe he will see sense. If not then I may have to continue to distract the nosy bastard a little longer. D-16 Simmons personal 19 Was met at reception by the great man himself as I came back to work. Doctor Clements smiled and shook my hand and told me how happy he was that I was feeling better. He even commented how good I looked considering I had been ill. I smiled and nodded and even thanked him. He informed me that he'd taken the project to the next level and had started the series that morning on the primates. Several different species including a chimpanzee called Byron that I had brought in as a control. He was never meant to be tested. Clements continues to cut corners and rules the roost here as if he's a little tin pot god. His arrogance is breathtaking. If he wasn't so god-damned hot... Don't know where that last comment came from but he is a good looking man. Just because he's a prick doesn't mean I don't notice. I need to go to supply to get a new coat. This one seems to have shrunk in the wash. D-15 Simmons Personal 20 I can't seem to concentrate. I have been back at work for two days and even though Clements has started on the next phase of trials against my advice I can't seem to get motivated to do anything about it. Even though I was declared fit for duty I still feel strange. I feel fluey and sore all over but on top of it I feel stimulated, sexually almost all of the time. My clothes feel tight and I have found myself looking in the mirror a lot. Do I look different ? I don't know, can't seem to focus. I need to speak to Clements. He will want to hear these symptoms. I saw Byron this morning and I will admit the results were impressive. His mass has increased by about 15% making him bigger and stronger and more dominant than any of the other Chimpanzees. The thing is rather than become aggressive his dominance is different when he sees me. He just comes to me and wants cuddles or at least that's what he signs to me. We make it a habit of teaching our Chimps a version of ASL to help communication within the lab environs. Damn I think I just ripped my trousers... D-14 Clements report #281 The new range of tests have been an outstanding success. Even Doctor Simmons seems to have taken on a new enthusiasm for the series with the experiments on his favourite Chimpanzee adding another 15% of muscle mass. It does make the animal rather difficult to control and Simmons seems to have a connection with the beast so I let him deal with it. On a side note Doctor Simmons himself is putting on weight. He has requested several new items of clothing from stores in the last week. I will have to ask him to report to the gym more often. D-13 Clements report #292 We had to destroy the Chimpanzee. For some reason along with it's musculature and physiology it's libido was also heightened. Dramatically. Unfortunately to a point where the beast was unmanageable and was trying to copulate with almost anyone who came into the lab. It is very difficult trying to stop and incredibly strong and heavy primate in a sexual frenzy. It got so bad that none of the techs would go into the lab and nobody could approach. The creature seemed to be in a state of perpetual masturbation. The only member of the team who seemed able to approach with "interference" was Doctor Simmons. Interesting. I ordered him to enter the lab and destroy the beast so we could autopsy it and find out the cause of it's aberrant behaviour. He was not pleased and I thought he would get emotional as he does, but he seemed to see sense and went ahead and followed my orders on the condition that he did the autopsy. I agreed. I'll be interested in those results myself. If we have inadvertently triggered a gene that heightened sexual drives or stimulation that could be worth a considerable sum.
  11. VRGoh

    Ménage à Trois

    Matt felt nervous about the entire arrangement he had made with Tara and Raúl a few days ago. Matt had previously replied to a post on Craigslist about a couple who wanted to have a threesome with a "skinny bi guy who's into muscular men." It was an odd request, and he fully expected it to be either a scam or an advertisement for a prostitute. He still doesn't know why he responded to them, but, in hindsight, he was glad he did. When they met in a local coffee shop, he told them about how he was between semesters at college where he studied computer programming and graphic design. He was still working on his goal of making a video game set in a post-apocalyptic China based on the Chinese novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Both Tara and Raúl seemed to be fascinated by it and expressed an interest in seeing the finished product. In return, they told him about their ventures in the fitness industry. She was a certified nutritionist, while he was a bodybuilder and personal trainer and both were part-time fitness models. Their goal was to open their own gym and use their passion for fitness and weightlifting to help others reach their goals in life. A small voice in the back of Matt's mind told him to keep these two in mind. Throughout their conversation at the coffee shop, Matt's gaze darted back and forth between Tara and Raúl's respective physiques. Both looked like the gods took the ideal bodies depicted by the ancient Greeks, made them into flesh, and breathed life into them with half again as much muscle. Tara's body shown enough muscle to be considered stronger than many, yet still retained its feminine features; her physique was muscular, yet not so much where she looked like a male bodybuilder who was one operation away from becoming a transgender woman. On the other hand, Raúl was simply massive. The young Latino powerhouse boasted arms the size of Matt's legs, legs the size of his waist, shoulders that were broad enough to give him trouble with the average door, a thickly-muscled chest that could fill any T-shirt, and, from what Matt could see from beneath the navy blue sweater the Hispanic beefcake wore, abs that would do a cobblestone street proud. Tara looked like the kind of girl Matt wanted to be with, while Raúl was the guy Matt wanted to look like. After a few more minutes of small talk, Raúl and Tara decided to "dispense with the formalities" and got up from the table. Matt took the cue and followed the two back to their condo. Along the way, Matt daydreamed about what it would be like to have a woman with a body like Tara while having a body like Raúl. The young college student could feel his cock hardening at the thought of Raúl's muscles on his body while pounding Tara's wet pussy. While holding this mental image, he could have sworn Raúl said, "Tu sueño pronto hará realidad." If my Spanish is right, he thought, he said that my dream will soon come true. I wonder what he meant by that. Shortly after arriving in the one-bedroom condo Tara and Raúl shared, things started getting hot and heavy. Coats, hats, and sweaters were removed and casually tossed on the couch. Tara's hand absent-mindedly drifted to her boyfriend's bulging biceps, which responded with a prompt flex that seemed to turn the large mound of muscle into a ball of unyielding steel with a peak the size of K2. Tara's other hand made a come-hither gesture towards Matt. "Take off those hot clothes and come here, Matt," she said invitingly, yet with a hint of lust. "We don't bite unless you want us to." Matt could not have taken off his parka, his hat, his sweater, and the undershirt beneath fast enough without tearing them, so addled by sex was his mind. He almost latched onto Raúl's massive pecs like a baby who was nursing, were it not for the fact that the three were heading into the bedroom. Both men were on either side of her as they finished stripping. Hands groped everywhere, followed by lips, as the sexual energy continued to build. Laying on the bed, Tara pulled Raúl toward her waiting clit while gesturing for Matt to get to the otherside of the bed. Grabbing his erect cock in one hand and guiding Raúl's with the other, she spit herself between the two guys. Matt timed his thrusts with her ministrations while the muscle god across from him pounded his girlfriend's pussy. Through the haze of sex, he thought he heard Raúl chanting something in an unknown language. The urge to fuck the gorgeous woman in front of him pushed that thought out of his mind as he sped up his thrusting. After what seemed like an hour, Tara told Matt to "get between us for the ultimate orgasm." Matt quickly ran to her as Raúl got behind him. Guiding his cock, wet with her saliva, into her wet pussy, he gasped as he knew that he was about to pound a girl for the first time in a long time. As he fucked her, Matt heard Tara reciting the same chant that Raúl said earlier. It was as if they were casting a spell or something. All of a sudden, he heard the Hispanic muscle god sat, "Get ready." He bit his lip to hold back a scream as what felt like a foot-long sausage as thick as a beercan invaded his virgin ass. Raúl stayed in that position for a moment so that Matt can acclimate himself with a sensation of a thick cock in his ass. Then, as Raúl started pounding on Matt's prostate, Matt continued his pounding on Tara's clit. Thrusts perfectly timed, they increased their speed and intensity as the sexual energy built up to near critical levels. Matt barely noticed that they both were reciting the chant from before, only this time, he heard his own voice joining in. The three continued fucking at a frenetic pace for what felt like an eternity as the chant melted away to become moans and shouts of orgasmic pleasure. Matt had never felt anything like this in his entire life. The pleasure, the bliss, the indescribable sensation of fucking a gorgeous woman while a muscle god among men was fucking you was beyond his comprehension. In hindsight, he could only conclude that what he felt at that moment was what it must be like for a god to have an orgasm. He wondered if the god and goddess between him always felt like this when they fuck. He was surrounded by sex, swimming in a sea of pure lust driven by the superhuman physiques of the two on either side of him. Within moments, the floodgates burst, and all three cried out in a simultaneous orgasm. Matt's vision blurred before fading to black. That night, he woke to find himself still inside Tara, the powerful muscles of her clit still clamping his still-erect penis. The warmth of her body rousing him from unconsciousness as she nestled against his thickly-muscled pecs. He then sat up with a jerk when he realized that, not only was Raúl's cock absent from his ass, but also that he did not have thickly-muscled pecs. Turning to the mirror on the back of the door, he saw Raúl with a shocked look on his face. Matt reached out with one meaty hand; Raúl copied the gesture. Shaking his head, Matt lifted one arm to scratch his head in wonder. Raúl mimicked the movement, the peak of his bulging biceps leaping toward the steel cables of muscles in his forearm. Matt brought up his other arm and hit a front double-biceps pose; Raúl did the same, displaying a wide back and massive arms that would win Mr. Olympia with a single pose. That was when Matt's universe expanded to allow the truth of the matter: Matt had merged somehow with the massively muscular Latino heartthrob who had propositioned him earlier. What seemed strange was that he seemed a bit bigger, a bit more energetic, and a bit more ripped. "It looks like our spell was a success," Tara said half-groggily as she sat up in bed. "But.... how?" Matt/Raúl said. "We've been doing this for over a hundred years," came Raúl's voice in Matt's mind. "Ever since New Orleans right after Reconstruction." Matt suddenly felt different people, different spirits, linked with his own. It was as if he was in a room full of people, but with the room being the body he currenly inhabited. "We found a spell that could link spirits together," Tara explained. "We used it to protect our good friend and lover, Alan, from a mob of witch-hunters who had branded him a warlock. Needless to say, threesomes were not as widely accepted then as they are now. It was then that we discovered a unique side effect of the spell." "Whenever we would cast the spell," Raúl continued, "the youth and vigor of the third person would be combined with the caster whose gender was the same as their own. In other words, women would bond with Tara, and men with us." He mentally saw the spell that was cast; it was Alan's, the warlock who was being hunted all those years ago. It felt strange, as the only personality he sensed was Raúl's. "Don't worry," Tara said reassuringly, "you have all of eternity to explore your new capabilities. Why don't we start with your stamina? I'm eager to see how long you can fuck now that another has joined the fold." "My time is coming to an end," Raúl projected, "as my consciousness will meld with the Everlasting Spirit, but know this. Whenever you fuck someone, you'll feel my cock pounding at your ass, along with the pleasure of your own cock pounding at an eager hole. Sex will still be for the same biological functions as before, but the spell along with the sex will meld your new partner's body and spirit with either your own or Tara's, depending on their gender." "Now," Tara said with lust in her eyes and voice, "let's start exploring your new stamina. Our record was fucking for six days straight; let's go for an even week." By the way, if it doesn't show up, the middle symbol in the title should be an à. (Alt+133 on the number pad)
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