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Chapter I My first weeks of college had been turbulent for multiple reasons, even though it would not be long before I learnt they were all the same. Since I had started college there had been multiple violent murders in town. All of the victims were male and while a majority of them were students or staff members, found in various placed on campus so brutally mangled that forensic pathologists claim they must have been run over by a freight train, two victims with no college ties were found equally disfigured near the scrapyard on the other side of town. A general sense of panic and dread had come over the town, but I seemed to be the only person who was not particularly concerned. This was because my mind was preoccupied with one of my fellow students: Gustavo. I constantly thought of him, almost every night I would dream of him and wake up with cum-soiled underwear. Whenever I spotted him in hallways or striding across campus I would try to steal as many secret glances as I could. I’ve been obsessed ever since I first laid eyes on him the day I moved into my dorm. I remember it clear as day. I was looking out of my window after having moved in all my things when I saw him carrying three big suitcases with no strain at all. He seemed to be a solid 6’ tall, but that was not what made my jaw drop and dick stiffen. He was wearing an oversized hoodie and baggy pants, but I could tell he was very muscular underneath it. Ever since I could remember I have had a shameful obsession with muscles and muscular men and I had developed an impeccable skill for spotting them. After that one quick peek at him from a very far distance I made it my mission to find everything out about him. He was an American-born Italian, a fact I could have easily deduced after seeing his curly black hair, his dark facial stubble and his always lightly tanned skin. He was 20 years old and majoring in sports science. Wearing baggy clothes, like he did on that first day, was more the exception than the norm for him. Usually he wore a tight shirt that seemed on the verge of tearing apart with the slightest flex of his burgeoning muscles. I estimated him to be a staggering 250 lbs when I first saw him, all of it shredded muscle. He was probably the most muscular 20 year old in the world and looked ready to step on a Mr. Olympia stage. Gustavo did not seem to have many friends and in my first two months of college I never saw him speak a word with anyone. The football team tried to recruit him multiple times but he always refused. I attempted to map up his schedule but he seemed to be skipping many of his classes and have no regular schedule. The only thing I knew for certain is that every time I saw him he would be bigger than the last time. It was then after two months that my life changed forever. Up until then I had been living in my gigantic dorm room on my own without a roommate. The only drawback was that my floor only had a large communal shower without stalls, while rooms on other floors had their own private bathrooms. I quite enjoyed it, because while at 5’8, 140lbs with a slightly below average penis I didn’t have much to be proud of, I loved stealing looks at some of the jocks who showered there. It was then a great mystery when I got an email from the student administration saying a student had requested to move to my floor, because they were uncomfortable with their private bathroom because it was “getting too small”. As I was the only one without a roommate I already knew the student would be moving in with me but little did I know it was Gustavo. I opened the door to my room one day after class to find him already moved in, sitting on his bed as it groaned under his enormous weight. I froze. He was scratching his neck and his bicep bulged against his sleeve like balloon. He wasn’t even flexing hard and it looked to be 23 inches granite boulder. He had gained maybe 20 lbs in the past two months and was a mind numbing 270 lbs. He stood up to greet me and I fainted. When I awoke I was in my bed and he was looming over me, casting a massive shadow. Immediately I began stammering an excuse but he just laughed. “I get that sometimes, don’t worry. Name’s Gustavo by the way”. “I-I-I’m David” I shakingly took his hand. It was massive and sinewed. I could tell he was trying to be gentle with his handshake but it still hurt a little. After that he left to go to the gym and I jerked off furiously. I awaited his return excitedly and could not even eat or sleep. I waited and waited and six hours later it was midnight and he still wasn’t back. I knew monstrous bodybuilder like him had long workout sessions but this seemed excessive. Perhaps he had picked up some girl. I hadn’t heard any rumors of him sleeping with any of the girls from our college, but a god like him with what looked to be a massive dick bulging in his underwear surely fucks a new girl every night. Finally at 2am I heard the door unlock and saw his godly silhouette as he opened the door. He had to step into the room sideways because his shoulders were so fucking wide. I pretended to be asleep, hoping he would feel comfortable to undress right there. When he switched on the lights I was shocked to see him butt naked and covered in blood. My first reaction wasn’t disgust, but to instantly get hard. Even underneath the blood I could see pencil thick veins crisscrossing his body. He was insanely pumped and somehow looked way bigger than today afternoon. He was sporting a massive 11-inch boner that almost reached all the way up to the top of his abs. Tennis-ball thick testicles were pushed out because there was no space between his thighs which looked to be bigger than his waist. I just wanted to lick him. His face, which was so rugged and masculine usually still had boyish dark eyes which made me fall for him but now his eyes looked manic. Like an animal with rabies. There was so much muscle to take in, but before I had a chance he grabbed his towel, switched the lights off again and went towards the shower.

Below is my new story. I've been quite busy so it's taken me a little while to get this out... but here you go. It is my own take on the Bully revenge story... with a twist. I got the idea when a friend of mine visited an herbalist to assist with his low sperm count. The rest I just imagined after working out. Hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think!! Thanks. Simply Winning Justin has seen the storefront hundreds of times on Charing Cross Road, but had never thought about entering it until the downpour of rain made it a requirement. It had been pissing down all week, a common March occurrence in London, and one that Justin was usually always prepared for. He just never had expected Gavin to take the umbrella right from his hand and stroll away. Justin had worked for the same accounting firm for the past fifteen years, and although he found it possibly the most boring of careers, it fit who he was. Maybe Justin was not the most exciting person, and maybe he might follow the same routine day in and day art, but he was a good person and had a big heart. When Gavin joined the firm last year, Justin saw his whole world change, and not for the better. The younger, larger, and more boisterous man appeared to enjoy making Justin’s life hell. It started small: pens would disappear from his desk, files were moved, his rubbish bin would be tipped over, and salt would be put in his tea if he walked away from it. They were all harmless, and no one would admit it was Gavin, but Justin knew it was. Then the attack’s got worst: clients would be given to Gavin when they were rightfully Justin’s, the personal assistant that they had once shared soon became Gavin’s alone, the hard drive on his computer had been wiped clean three times, and now today, Gavin was given the promotion to partner that was rightfully Justin’s. When Justin had confronted Mr. Webber, the founder, the excuse he had been given was that Gavin was a much more self confident man, and that impressed clients. They felt assured in his presence. Sure, Justin was great and they were happy with his work, but Gavin just brought something extra... more confidence... a spark. Justin couldn’t argue with this. In fact, He agreed with this description. Gavin was more confidant then Justin. He did have a spark. He should!! Gavin had an athletic build where Justin was slender... Gavin had thick brown hair where Justin was thinning on top, going grey, and couldn’t grow a beard at 40... Gavin was tall where Justin was short, and Gavin exuded sex appeal where Justin has none. The two men just couldn’t compare. Justin knew Gavin would always win; that was the way the world worked. These were the thoughts spiralling through Justin’s head as he opened his umbrella to go grab lunch. He usually brought his lunch everyday, but he had woken up late and forgot it as he ran for the bus, so today he would just have to treat himself. It had been raining all day, and it appeared to be coming down harder now then ever. He was just about to head out into the downpour when a hand grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. He looked up to see Gavin standing next to him. ⁃ I’ve got a lunch date, mate. Justin just stared at him wondering what that had to do with him. He realised what when Gavin grabbed the umbrella and began walking down the street with it. ⁃ Thanks, mate! He called back to Justin with a small wave, leaving him alone. Justin thought about going back to his desk and not having anything for lunch, but he was so angry, and didn’t want to give Gavin the satisfaction of seeing him run back inside. Also, he did need to buy another umbrella... Justin’s short walk up Charing Cross Road on his quest for lunch and an umbrella couldn’t have been more miserable. The rain proceeded to come down harder and harder, and the wind was blowing it all in his face. Of course, a bus roared down the street, throwing water and mud onto him, soaking his shoes and trousers. Each block that he walked got him wetter until Justin simply couldn’t take it anymore, and ducked into what he thought was a used bookstore. Instead, it was the Chinese herbalists Justin passed by everyday. As the water puddled around him, Justin looked at the many posters that cluttered the wall advertising a better life through reflexology, or medicinal tea, or acupuncture. Among the many claims were pictures of the human body and how their ailments could be cured easily. The most impressive object in the whole place, undoubtedly, was the immense wall stacked with drawers, labels announcing the many herbs that were hidden inside. ⁃ Can I help you? A man of around 60 or 70 entered from a back room-with a teacup. He looked Justin up and down and smiled. ⁃ Trying to get out of the rain? ⁃ Yeah... I...kind of lost my umbrella. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m sorry... I’m drenching your floor. ⁃ Easily dried! Come. Take a seat. I just made some tea. ⁃ No really... that’s okay... ⁃ Sit!! Sit!! I’ll be right back. The older man ducked into the back room and began fumbling around for a second teacup as Justin sat on the white hard-back chair. Within moments, he was back and had deposited the cup in Justin’s hands. The tea smelt spicy and refreshing and after a sip, Justin knew this was exactly what he needed to make him feel human again. God, he thought... I really am English if a simple cuppa could cure all of my problems. Not realising it, Justin smiled at the man. ⁃ What? ⁃ No... Nothing. Thank you so much for this, Mister... ⁃ Huang. ⁃ Huang. I really appreciate it. It’s been a rough day. ⁃ I understand completely. ⁃ This is really very good... your own blend? ⁃ Fortnum and Mason. ⁃ Right. Jason and Mr. Huang sat in silence for a few minutes drinking their tea. As was custom, and to keep his hands busy, Mr Huang began sorting some of the herbs that sat on the desk into paper packets. ⁃ So, those herbs are better then Western medicine? ⁃ Much better. Western medicine has learned a lot from the east, but unfortunately don’t give us the credit we deserve. ⁃ It must be healthier... being all natural. ⁃ Much better for you, much better for the environment, and much better using what the Earth created for us. You take vitamin every day? ⁃ Yes. ⁃ This here... this combination is much better then any vitamin you find in a store. Take it. ⁃ I couldn’t. ⁃ Take it! It’s a present. ⁃ Thank you. How do you... ⁃ Dissolve one packet in warm water each morning and drink. ⁃ I’ll try it. I never like taking tablets anyway. ⁃ Cure all of your problems. ⁃ I wish!! ⁃ You never know. What ails you? Maybe I can help. ⁃ You’ve helped enough already. This tea was perfect. Now, I really should be getting back to work. Justin stood and handed the teacup to Mr. Huang. ⁃ Thank you for the vitamins. ⁃ My pleasure. Are you sure there isn’t anything else you need? ⁃ Unless you could give me a complete over haul, I’m happy with this... and the name of the tea. This time Mr. Huang smiled. ⁃ Ginger and Sicilian Lemon Infusion. ⁃ Wonderful. I’ll need to stop in and get some. Have a great day, Mr. Huang. ⁃ And you. Justin opened the door, but stopped when Mr. Huang called out to him. ⁃ How much of a complete overhaul do you need? ⁃ Believe me! I need everything done. The small man quickly ran around the desk and closed the door before Justin could open it further. ⁃ Sit down. Sit down. Let’s talk. ⁃ I really need to be going. ⁃ You want an overhaul... I can give you an overhaul. Now, what do you need? Mr Huang sat down, removed a pad and paper, and began writing. ⁃ Honestly, I probably just need a psychiatrist. ⁃ That can help...yes... ⁃ I’m bothered by this guy at work. He took my promotion. ⁃ I see. ⁃ Maybe he deserved it... I don’t know. ⁃ Big jerk? ⁃ Everyone loves him. ⁃ Everyone except you. ⁃ Exactly. I think he’s an asshole. ⁃ Right. ⁃ He’s perfect. He’s athletic, has great hair, straight teeth, perfect completion... ⁃ Right... As Justin spoke Mr. Huang began writing more and more on the pad. ⁃ What else? Go on. ⁃ He’s just simply perfect. That’s it. That’s all I can say. ⁃ And you’re not. ⁃ Please!! ⁃ If you could have what you want... what would it be? ⁃ I don’t think you can give me a new body. ⁃ Humor me. Justin looked at the man and finally took him in. Mr Huang was just as slight as he was. Mr Huang wasn’t balding, but was grey haired. Mr Huang didn’t have a very muscular built. Maybe he would understand. ⁃ I just want to win, Mr. Huang. One day I’d just love to win. ⁃ I can do that. ⁃ Can you? Mr. Huang put down his pen and looked at Justin. ⁃ My wife and I have been married for 48 years. ⁃ Congratulations. ⁃ For the first five, we tried to have children. No luck. We tried and tried. Nothing. She went to the doctor and had many tests. She was healthy as a horse. I went to the doctor and discovered I was the cause of our problems. Low sperm count. I cried to my father who was an herbalist before me. He made me a tea that solved all of my problems... maybe too well. Mr. Huang stood up and in front of Justin grabbed the large penis that lay hidden in his trousers. ⁃ In one day I grew six inches, and my testicles were as strong as an oxen. Four weeks later, my wife was pregnant with our first child. ⁃ Wow. ⁃ I have eight total. ⁃ Wow!!! You really are a stud! ⁃ My wife can’t keep her hands off it. ⁃ Well, I’d definitely want one of those!! ⁃ Of course!!! Mr. Huang went back to writing, sure that his story had opened a door. A few moments later, he knew that it had. ⁃ All my life I just wanted to be big. Muscular. Hairy. A real mans man. You know those guys. ⁃ Of course. ⁃ They ooze testosterone and walk with a swagger and get every guy or girl in the room, ⁃ Guy? ⁃ I’m gay. ⁃ And you have a partner? ⁃ No, but I’d love one. And with that between my legs I bet I’d have a lot of them. Both men laughed. ⁃ Seriously, if you could give me just that, I’d be happy. ⁃ A partner? ⁃ No. A bigger penis! ⁃ Ah! Right! Of course! Describe your ideal man. ⁃ Tall... hairy... muscular... self-assured, simply takes up the room. ⁃ That’s what you’d want for yourself? ⁃ For me? I thought you meant for a partner. ⁃ No. If you could build the perfect you, what would it be? Humour me. ⁃ Honestly, all that and more. Not just tall, really tall. Not just muscular, huge. Not just big down there... simply massive. ⁃ I think I understand. Mr Huang got up and for the next ten minutes, Justin watched as he removed herbs from different drawers, measured them, put some in a packet, and put the rest away. Everything he did was so precise and with such thought. Several times, he would stop, think, look at Justin, and then run and grab some additional herbs from another box. When he was nearly finished, he stopped what he was doing. ⁃ When you heat water to make tea, how do you do it at your house? ⁃ In an electric kettle. ⁃ Okay. I just need to factor that electricity into how potent this mixture is. Mr. Huang added more of one herb to the packet and removed a little of another. When he was finished, he approached Justin with what looked like a large tea bag. ⁃ Now...this is very simple. After work, you will go home. You will get undressed. You will heat a mug full of water in your electric kettle and you will bring it to a complete boil. You will place this sachet into the mug and pour the boiling water over it leaving only a pinch of room. You will set the timer on your phone for three minutes. In three minutes, you will remove the tea bag. Do not ring it out. Just remove. Then you will drink the tea while it is still hot. Do not drink it cold. Drink it all down. I promise it will taste awful. Tomorrow morning you come back here and tell me how it went. ⁃ That’s it? ⁃ That’s it. ⁃ And this should... ⁃ It will. I promise. ⁃ How much do I owe you? ⁃ Come back tomorrow and tell me how much it was worth. That’s what you’ll pay me. ⁃ Thank you so much... for everything. Even if this doesn’t work, you don’t know how much I appreciate your kindness. ⁃ It will work. Have faith. For once you are going to win. Despite the rain, Justin walked back to work with a smile and a spring in his step. Perhaps what Mr. Huang had proposed could be the answer to all of his problems. He did say his cock had grown six inches just from drinking a tea, and what reason would he have to lie? He hadn’t asked for any money, and he had been nothing but nice since the moment Justin had walked in his door. No. Justin had faith in the old man. Taking the plastic bag Mr. Huang had placed the large teabag in from his coat pocket, Justin smiled thinking of all that his future could hold for him. Opening up the plastic bag, Justin smelled it. It smelt sharp and earthy. It was a good smell. A strong smell. This is how Gavin must smell after a hard workout, he thought, taking another deep inhalation. Makes me want to lick his pits... his chest... Justin found he was getting hard simply from aroma of the teabag. I’m going to win, he thought. Justin was beginning to grow impatient with his watch as the time moved slowly to 4:00 pm. Soon, he thought. One more hour and I can go home and see if this works how I imagine. Justin smelled the inside of the baggie again and couldn’t help getting hard from the aroma. ⁃ Justin... Mr. Webber would like to see you in his office regarding the Cuan audit scheduled for next week. ⁃ Thanks, Angela. I’ll be right in. Justin grabbed the files and his laptop and spent the next hour and fifteen minutes going over the most boring and mundane of audits. It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter that his life was boring. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t gotten the promotion. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t bought an umbrella and would have to walk to his bus in the rain. No, what mattered is that tonight he would drink that tea and tomorrow he would be the man he always wanted to be. With a slight skip in his step, he walked back to his desk, set the laptop and files down, and felt all of the colour drain from his face as he realised the baggie was gone. Frantically looking in his coat pocket, under his desk, and in the drawers, Justin began to panic. Where could it be? His phone rang. ⁃ Hello? ⁃ Can I see you in my new office, Justin? It was Gavin. ⁃ I don’t think... ⁃ Now. ⁃ Of course. Justin felt a cold dread as he walked down the silent hall to Gavin’s office. It was after five and most of the staff had gone home. ⁃ Come in and close the door. Justin did as he was told. Gavin stared at him with a smile on his face, and before him sat a mug. No... it wasn’t a mug. It was bigger then that... enough to hold two cups of tea. ⁃ Have a seat. Justin did. ⁃ I felt it was important to talk about your future... under me. I... one second. I’m suddenly quite parched. Gavin lifted the huge mug in his hand. ⁃ One of the first things I need for you to do is order teabags. It seems we’re all out. ⁃ Wait! ⁃ What? ⁃ Please don’t do this. ⁃ Do what? ⁃ Don’t drink that. ⁃ Drink this? Gavin looked at the mug in his hand and then at Justin. ⁃ I’m doing this to make a point, Justin. You’ve kept me waiting nearly an hour since I made it. Can you believe that this tea has sat for nearly 55 minutes... but I’m a patient man. I knew sooner or later we would sit down and chat... I waited so long. In fact, by the time you got out of your meeting...this cheap teabag had completely disintegrated leaving loose tea behind, but it doesn’t matter. No. What matters is the point. See, Webber felt pity when you cried on his shoulder, and he wants me to mentor you... groom you to assist me. Can you imagine that? You assisting me? I don’t need any assistance... well Angela did assist me in microwaving this to make it good as new, and now... now I’m ready to finally make my point. I don’t need any assistance... SIP ⁃ You should start looking for another position as soon as possible... SIP ⁃ God, This tastes like shit!!! I don’t need losers on my team. SIP ⁃ I will always get what I want. Always!! Justin watched in horror as Gavin lifted the large mug to his lips, and in eight huge gulps, drank the entirety of what closely resembled sludge down. Gavin even went so far as licking the entire mug clean, swallowing any residual herbs that might have remained. Smiling at Justin with a cocky grin, he proceeded to pick bits of herb out of his teeth. ⁃ Do you understand, Justin?? Do you understand the point I just made? Gavin stood up and crossed over to the window. As Gavin walked, Justin could hear the tea sloshing in his stomach. ⁃ That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted, mate. I fuckin hate herbal tea. It’s for fuckin pansies. Next time bring in some Earl Grey. Fuck!! Gavin opened the window and leaned his head against it, breathing in the cool rainy air. ⁃ Are you okay? ⁃ I’m fine!! Just drank that shit too fast. It was still hot. Gavin belched and belched again. Scratching his face, Gavin turned around, faced Justin, and benched a third time. ⁃ Much better!! Exactly what I needed! ⁃ I think I should go. ⁃ Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just getting to know each other!! Gavin scratched his face again, and then his stomach. ⁃ I want you to take tomorrow off. Tell Webber you’re ill. You might as well take home all of your shit since you actually won’t be coming back. Gavin scratched his right arm, then his left, and then his stomach again. As he continued to speak, he intermittently continued to scratch himself. ⁃ On Monday, you’ll tell Webber that it will probably be for the best if you didn’t return. I’ll tell him that you deserve a six month severance package... for all that you’ve contributed... which I’m sure he’ll agree to. I’ll... I’ll... Gavin stumbled a little and proceeded to lean against the desk. ⁃ …rooms spinning... Justin jumped up from his chair and went over to Gavin. ⁃ Maybe you should sit down... ⁃ GET YOUR FUCKIN HANDS OFF OF ME!! Justin could only watch in awe as hair began to erupt from Gavin’s face until he had the darkest five o’clock shadow he had ever seen. Gavin began to scratch even more now, pacing around the office. ⁃ FUCK!! It feels like someone’s sticking needles in my entire body. What the fuck are you looking at? ⁃ You’re... You’re face... ⁃ What about it? Gavin moved his hand to his face, and for the first time recognised that he had suddenly grown more then a days growth of hair. It was more like three days of growth... and as he crossed and looked at his reflection in the window... four days. Gavin moved closer to the window and took in a giant gulp of air, watching as slowly the hair growing on his face was gaining length and body. He rubbed his hands through the growth and Justin could only believe he was marvelling at how it felt. In less then five minutes, Gavin Costa had the beginnings of a beard growing on his face. Looking down at his hands, Gavin saw that they were also getting a covering of dark hair. Panicking, Gavin ripped off his shirt and tie and stood half naked in front of Justin. Gavin could only look on in shock as his chest, stomach, and arms also joined in on the sudden influx of hair growth. Gavin continued itching himself like crazy, but Justin suddenly realised he didn’t look angry anymore. It was obvious to Justin that it itched like crazy as it grew in, but apparently, Gavin couldn’t be happier. In fact, Gavin had a wide grin plastered on his face. Within minutes, his five o’clock shadow had developed into a proper three weeks worth of growth. Gavin could now run his hands through the beard and tug at it! His chest also had a thick pelt growing on it, traveling down to his crotch. ⁃ What was in that tea? ⁃ I... ummm... I.., ⁃ What the FUCK was in that tea???!!! ⁃ It was from this herbalist… ⁃ It’s supposed to be doing this? ⁃ I guess… ⁃ You guess??? ⁃ I just... Gavin grabbed Justin by his suit jacket and began to roughly shake him. ⁃ What was in that tea??!! ⁃ It was supposed to make me more of a man. ⁃ Really??!! What the fuck is it gonna do to me?? Gavin threw Justin back into the chair and continued wandering around the room. Justin did wonder what it was going to do to Gavin. He had broken so many rules already, and it had been made specifically for him... not someone who was already the epitome of a man. Gavin kicked his shoes and socks off, and pulled off his pants to admire his newly hairy legs and the treasure trail that was going down to an excessively hairy crotch. ⁃ I always wanted more hair on my body!! Guess my wish came true!! He looks amazing, Justin thought. Maybe a little too much hair now, but he could always trim or shave what he didn’t like. What did matter to Justin was that it looked like Gavin now had even more testosterone pumping through his body then ever before. Gavin lifted his arm to flex his bicep, admiring the thick and black underarm hair that had grown in. ⁃ Bet you’re enjoying the view. Like how I look? ⁃ I.... ⁃ If it was supposed to make you more of a man... and it’s already done this... tell me what else is its gonna do? ⁃ I don’t know... taller, more muscular... a bigger penis... ⁃ Fuck yeah!!! I think today just turned out to be the best day of my life!! Imagine this cock even bigger! It’s already pretty large already! Gavin was strutting in front of Justin when it appeared like the wind had been knocked out of him... as if a mule had kicked him squarely in the stomach. He quickly leaned on the desk for support. Through gritted teeth Gavin asked, ⁃ What the fuck is happening now? As the kicks and the spasms continued, Justin could make out the fine outline of abs beginning to protrude under Gavin’s skin. With each punch, Gavin’s abs became larger and thicker, taking on serious size. Running his hands over his spasming abdominals, it was obvious Gavin loved the way the cobblestones felt with a layer of hair over them. He couldn’t stop feeling them, and soon he was putting one finger in the crevices between each ab, then two, then three. Gavin’s waist became thicker, straining the briefs he was wearing, but he was also becoming leaner as well as any fat that had once settled over his abs disintegrated to allow more room for muscular growth. Fingering the fractures between each abdominal muscle began turning Gavin on as Justin saw his cock begin to get hard in his ripped black briefs. ⁃ My body looks insane with such abdominal definition!! If that shit is doing this to my core... fuck me!!! I’m gonna be a beast!! Fuck!! He spoke out loud as he felt his own hairy stomach and slowly massaged the head of his cock through his briefs. From his shit-eating grin, it was obvious to Justin that Gavin loved the feel of all of this size just above his cock. Even a deep Adonis belt, which had never existed before, began to form on his body. Gavin cried out as he felt another jolt, but this one came from lower down. He stopped stroking his cock head and moved his hand down to the bulge below that was slowly increasing size. Wanting to see for himself what was happening, Gavin swiftly tore the half ripped black briefs from his body and threw them in the corner of his office. ⁃ Balls starting to grow... you can’t imagine how good this feels... Letting out wave after wave of testosterone... I feel light headed... too much happening at once... Justin didn’t know how large Gavin’s testicles had started that morning, but as he watched Gavin orgasmically feel himself up, it was obvious that they were beginning to look much larger in his tightening sack then a minute prior. Within minutes, Gavin’s balls had doubled in size. As his testicles swelled and erupted, and as the feeling of pure pleasure began to expand around Gavin’s whole body, he began to moan, quiet at first but growing in fervour. ⁃ My body feels so fuckin alive!! I feel like I’m hooked up to some supernatural power source and it’s just getting stronger and stronger!! FUCK!!! You can’t believe how I feel!! I can’t even describe it... I’m... I’m becoming the epitome of a man!! No one will understand what I’m going through!!! It’s almost getting too strong!! ⁃ Maybe we should get a doctor! ⁃ Are you fuckin crazy?! And have them possibly stop this?? ⁃ It’s just... you broke a lot of the rules. The tea bag was only supposed to be in for three minutes... you weren’t supposed to microwave it... who knows what could... ⁃ ARGH!!!!! Fuck!!!! My balls!!! ...giving off so much heat... balls feel like they’re burning... Fuck!!! They’re on fuckin fire!!! Gavin’s balls had continue to swell and were now the size of two large oranges, and still growing larger. Gavin placed his hands on his ball sack, but it looked to Justin like he could barely touch them. ⁃ So much testosterone building up in these balls now!!! When it’s released... FUCK!!!! Gavin’s balls continued to swell, and it wasn’t long before his sack began to stretch, giving more room for growth. As Gavin was reviling in the ecstasy of his growing balls, he soon became aware that his quads were beginning to both swell. ⁃ Oh, fuck yeah!!! Look at my quads blow up!! Before, his legs had been those of an avid football and rugby player. Now they were both beginning to take on that muscular look that comes with year of serious lifting in the gym. Within a few minutes, both were so thick with muscle that he had to widen his stance in order not to crush his balls between them. ⁃ My quads are nearly the size of my waist and still growing!!! Justin... my man... when this is done... I think Im gonna be a fuckin beast!!! Come on!!! Grow bigger!!! BIGGER!!! Gavin was nearly screaming at the top of his lungs for more growth when both calves began to swell as well. ⁃ What do you think of these legs, Justin? So huge and powerful and all fuckin muscle!!! I can feel it spreading to the rest of my body, now! The rest of me’s gonna grow to... match... my... legs... ARGGGHH. Gavin reached up and grabbed his neck. Justin was concerned that something had gone seriously wrong since it looked as if Gavin was having trouble breathing, but realised fairly quickly that it was simply his neck joining his legs and exploding with muscle. Quickly his shoulders and deltoid muscles joined in and began to expand, growing rounder and more dense. Gavin’s shoulders looked to Justin that they were getting both broader and thicker, and in no time at all they were definitely nearing the width of a door. Justin’s penis was painfully hard as he watched Gavin going through his remarkable transformation. Gavin’s own cock was hard as well and had started leaking pre-cum. His hands were traveling all over his body, massaging, caressing, and worshipping himself. ⁃ I’m like a power plant getting ready to explode!! When Gavin spoke now, his voice was deeper, more commanding, and oozed sexuality. His hands kept returning to his cock and huge balls, slowly stroking himself, enjoying the feel of his own body. Looking directly in Justin’s eyes, Gavin wiped the head of his cock with his fingers, brought it to his face, smelled them, and then licked them clean. ⁃ Taste so fuckin good!!!! Was his voice even deeper then a moment ago? It couldn’t possibly be, but Justin was sure that it was. How long has this been going on, he wondered... and when will it end? How will it end?? Gavin began to massage and squeeze his nipples as his pecs began to swell. ⁃ Oh yeah... that’s it... No amount of hair could hide the musculature of Gavin’s blossoming body. His pecs, easily classified as merely athletic before now pulsed their way into the epitome of power. Each pec grew so immense so quickly that Justin wasn’t sure if Gavin could even see his feet anymore. The crevice in between those mountains of manhood was so deep and so dark with hair that it looked to go on forever. His nipples, grown large and virile, feeling the weight of being attached to such mass, were forced to point down toward his abs. Gavin panted in delight as his muscles continued to grow. With the birth of his colossal chest, his arms proceeded to become engorged with muscle as well. Justin watched in awe as Gavin’s biceps and triceps ballooned in his arms until they were nearly as large as his own head... and still they grew. Gavin’s forearms became as thick as his calves had once been, and as he flexed his upper arm, he began to run his tongue up and down the peaks. Enamoured by his own growth, Gavin could only whimper as the growth of his lats forced his arms further and further from his side. Although his waist was thick with muscle from his abs, his upper torso proceeded to widen until Gavin had an indefinable wasp waist! As every muscle in his entire body continued to swell with more and more growth, thick hose-like veins began to erupt over every inch of his body. To Justin, Gavin’s skin looked paper thin and threatened to easily split if any more mass was added to his body. Veins traveling down his abs wove there way over his pubis and down into his penis. Gavin could barely speak as his cock proceeded to thicken, being engorged further and further with blood. Gavin did his best to grab onto it and stroke it, but the thickness proved to be a challenge for his average sized hands. No sooner had it become thicker then a pint glass when it began to lengthen, a flesh anaconda replacing the admirable penis he had once had. Using both hands, Gavin proceeded to stroke himself, gaining speed and fervour, his moans bellowing throughout the room. ⁃ Look at me!!! Every inch so massive... so strong... so masculine... I feel... I feel... FUCK!!!!!! I feel like a fuckin... ARGHHH!!!!! Gavin’s penis head swelled even larger and proceeded to erupt everywhere. Gavin, lost to his immense orgasm let go of his cock, allowing it to shoot cum all over the walls... all over the windows, and all over Justin. When he finished after continually cumming for nearly three minutes, Gavin collapsed against the desk, forcing it to slide into the wall and causing an immense hole. A minute later, unable to handle his muscle mass, the wooden desk disintegrated beneath him. The only thing Gavin could do as he fell to the floor was laugh. ⁃ What do you think of me? Gavin’s voice floated on the air, filling the entire office, and oozing sex and virility. ⁃ Incredible... ⁃ That’s all you can say? Gavin has some trouble getting up from the floor, but Justin didn’t help him since he knew there was no way he could assist in lifting such weight. Eventually, Gavin was able to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position, hoist himself onto his knees, and then stand. His shadow completely covered Justin as he moved toward him, his entire body involuntarily flexing as he walked. ⁃ There are no words to describe what I’ve become!! I always led the pack, but now I am the epitome of the alpha male. Look at this cock!! It’s longer and thicker then your arm!!! Gavin stood inches away from Justin, his immense body radiating heat and masculinity. His cock was hard once again and leaking onto the floor. ⁃ Lick it. You know you want to. ⁃ I can’t. ⁃ DO IT!!! Gavin placed his hand on Justin’s shoulder and forced him to the floor. On his knees, Justin looked up at Gavin’s cock defying gravity by sticking straight up. ⁃ Try and put your mouth around the head... now... Nervously, Justin placed one hand and then another on Gavin’s penis, feeling it pulsate and breathe beneath his hands. Through the veins, Justin could feel the gallons of blood being pumped in and out to keep it as rigidly hard as it was. I’ve never felt anything like this before… its so hard yet feels so smooth… it practically feels alive… Even with both hands he couldn’t encircle it. The veins that crisscrossed the entire length were thicker then Justin’s own fingers. ⁃ Suck me. Justin tried to pull the cock down to on level with his own face, but discovered he wasn’t strong enough. ⁃ Let me give you a hand. Gavin took his own hands and proceeded to force his cock down till it was parallel with the floor. Justin opened his mouth, and as he got closer to the head, knew there was no way he would ever get it in his mouth. ⁃ Lick it. Justin did as he was told, running his tongue over every inch of the head. Gavin kept one hand on his cock but placed the other behind Justin’s head so he could manipulate him wherever he wanted his tongue to go. With his tongue, he began to work the sensitive area right under the glans. Gavin breathed in and out, his cock proceeding to leak even more. ⁃ Tongue fuck the slit. ⁃ What? ⁃ Stick your tongue in the slit. Justin moved his tongue to the massive mouth-like slit of Gavin’s penis head and began to lick it. ⁃ Stuck it in! Justin forced his tongue to enter Gavin’s slit. ⁃ Deeper! Tongue fuck this cock!! Justin felt Gavin’s hand force his head forward till he had no choice but to put his tongue deeper into the slit. Pre was leaking all over his face as Gavin forced him in further. ⁃ Oh yeah. That’s it. Tongue fuck that cock. Fuck yeah!!! Feels so good!! Imagine if... this had... been you?! You bursting with... with... all of this muscle... and power!! Your body covered in hair... reeking of sweat and testosterone. Your balls... your balls... don’t stop, Justin... I... I... Fuck... I’m... Fuck.... As Gavin was talking, Justin began to hear a cracking sound coming from in front of him and behind him. Focused on what he was doing, he didn’t pay it much heed till it proceeded to get louder and louder. ⁃ ... I’m fuckin growing!!! My whole body getting taller!! My fingers getting longer... my hands swelling... Justin could feel Gavin’s hand that was on the back of his head getting longer and thicker, covering more and more space each second. Justin looked down and realised that Gavin’s feet must have doubled in size and were continuing to grow. ⁃ ... growth so strong... every part of me getting bigger... taller... thicker... stronger... Within a few minutes Justin could no longer kneel any longer and had to stand to reach Gavin’s cock. Looking up, he saw the behemoth in ecstasy as he stretched taller and wider and gained more and more muscle mass. ⁃ Almost too much... so much growth... getting so tall... muscles expanding... nearing the ceiling... need it to stop... becoming a freak… do I realy want this… NO!!! I don’t want it to stop... so massive... Justin only comes up to my abs now... even the hair on my head is getting longer now... how much do I weigh... can’t see below my pecs anymore... my head’s gonna hit the ceiling... so much power... I’m gonna cum... oh fuck... of fuck... OH FUCK!!!!!! Gavin screamed at the top of his lungs as his colossal penis began to ejaculate again. As his cock spasmed, it hit Justin in the face and sent him flying to the floor. As he looked up, all Justin could think of when he saw Gavin was Goliath. He was simply that massive... his shoulders so broad, his torso like a marble sculpture, his arms and legs so thick, and he was nearly as tall as the ceiling. What else could the Biblical giant have on Gavin? ⁃ I need to get out of here! I need to show this body to the world. Gavin began to move toward the office door, but Justin was quicker and blocked his path. ⁃ We need to get you some clothes first... you could get arrested if... ⁃ I doubt I’ll ever wear clothes again!! Who would want me to??!! As if he were swatting a pesky fly, Gavin easily moved Justin to the side. When he opened the office door, Gavin ripped it right off its hinges and held it in his hand. Admiring his own strength, Gavin took his other hand and began to fold the metal door in on itself. Once he had folded the length in half, he placed it on the floor and proceeded to fold the top into the bottom. Pre was flowing from Gavin’s cock as he took the metal square that had once been a door and simply crinkled it into a ball and threw it into the corner with a bang. Gavin looked down at Justin and grinned. ⁃ I thought that would test me, but it was too easy... barely felt anything. I have to be the strongest man on Earth!! With his hands, Gavin ripped the metal doorframe from the wall to try and make it easier for him to get through, but he was still too tall and too wide. Finally, he simply pushed his way out of the hole that had once been a door, rubble falling down onto him, the dust coating parts of his sweaty body. Even his ass is pure muscle, Justin thought as he followed the behemoth lumbering down the hallway, trying unsuccessfully to make his way to the main room without taking down all the walls. In his dreams, he had never imagined a creature as muscular and as sex filled as what Gavin had become. A scream from one of the remaining PA’s greeted Gavin as he finally made his way into the core of the building. ⁃ Not the reaction I expected... but I like it!! Several remaining employees, including Mr. Webber ran into the room to see what the commotion was about. They were greeted by a grinning and flexing eleven foot, 1,500 pound, hairy, and hard version of their coworker. Mr. Webber was the first to speak. ⁃ What the hell happened to you? ⁃ My appearance finally matches what I always was inside. ⁃ ...how??? ⁃ You wanted an Alpha to lead your firm into the 21st Century... and that’s what you got!! Justin could see that several of the employees were turned on by Gavin’s new size, but Mr. Webber wasn’t having any of it. ⁃ Get out of this building before you take the whole thing down with you! I’ve never seen such a disgusting display of... ⁃ You call this disgusting?? Gavin flexed his entire body for the onlookers. ⁃ GET OUT!! ⁃ You’re just jealous, old man!! Gavin reaches down and easily lifted Mr. Webber up till hey were eye to eye. Urine quickly fell onto the floor from where Mr Webber had relieved himself. As he spoke, Gavin shook Mr. Webber so forcibly that Justin worried that he could easily kill him without even realising it. ⁃ I am the future!!! I think from now on there’s no need for you ever to come in again!! I run this firm now!! I make all of the decisions!! Don’t you agree with me, Lionel?? ⁃ I...I... ⁃ I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!! ⁃ I do... it’s all yours... ⁃ That’s what I... what I... Gavin stumbled backward and threw Mr. Webber to the floor. ⁃ Happening again... power welling up inside my body... even... FUCK... even stronger then before... Justin could only watch in astonishment as Gavin proceeded to commence growing again, this time even faster then before. ⁃ I was always meant for more... ALWAYS... always meant for greatness... and now... now... FUCK!!!! Getting even stronger!!!! The remaining employees ran outside to get away from what would certainly bring the entire building down around him. Justin remained rooted to his spot, knowing he had to see it through to the end. ⁃ How can it keep getting stronger... but it is!!! Never felt this kind of power before... this kind of strength... Gavin’s head slammed into the ceiling. Justin ran into the foyer to avoid the rubble that was falling down around Gavin. None of this seemed to bother Gavin as Justin heard his bass laugh echoing around the entire building. From the foyer, Justin could only see Gavin’s massive feet and his buttress-sized legs. No... they surpassed mere buttresses. They were thicker then that... thicker then redwoods... massive, muscular, and hairy behemoth legs that were now beyond description. The entire building shook and began to fall apart around Justin. Not prepared to die watching Gavin grow even larger, Justin ran outside to join the mass of people on the street gawking at the immense form as it forced its way out of the building, taking it down with him. Gavin smiled, as he looked down at the world around him, his massive cock leaving puddles of pre on the street. The hair on his head was even longer now, down past his shoulders, and his thick beard cascaded over his pecs and down to his abs. His testicles, simply enormous, and audibly churning inside producing an endless supply of sperm and testosterone. Gavin, who had once been athletically handsome before now appeared far more primal, his eyes deep set, his eyebrows bushier, and his body covered in hair. For fun, Gavin gyrated his hips and watched his cock knock down an entire building. The moment after he had accomplished this feat, he began to moan and shot cannon fire of sperm onto the street and the onlookers below. Once his orgasms had finished, Gavin moved into the street to have more room to stand. Trying to get away from the monster invading Charing Cross, a bus and two cars ran into his legs. The automobiles were destroyed, but there was barely a scratch left on Gavin. Kicking the bus to the side, he took down further buildings around him causing panic and chaos, which only appeared to turn him on more. Lifting a car that had been abandoned by its driver, Gavin effortlessly raised it up to his head to stare at it, then grinned, formed a ball out of it with his hands, threw it up in the air a few times, and then hurled it into The London Eye. ⁃ Always hated that fuckin eyesore!! Police arrived on the scene, uselessly staring up at the mega man. His growth had finally stopped, but he now towered over the world 35 feet in the air. As before, any movement caused nearly every muscle in his body to flex, sending what appeared like currents of pleasure through him. As he stood there admiring the view, he stroked his cock, an appendage that was now longer then his own arm. ⁃ Have you ever seen anything like me??!! Look at me and know that there is no one more powerful then I am!! I declare myself King of England!! Try and stop me and you’ll see nothing but destruction. Worship me, and I might let you live!!!! Gavin laughed and licked his own pre covered hand. ⁃ None of you will ever know how intoxicating this feels!! I have no peers... no equal... I am the greatest, most beautiful thing to have ever lived!!! Justin... if you’re down there... find that guy and get more if what you gave me!! I’m gonna want a mate soon!!! Justin tried to hide his face from the crowd so they wouldn’t recognise it was he who had assisted in creating this magnificent abomination. In the back of his mind, he wanted to be Gavin’s mate... feel him take control and fill his ass with his cock. Fuck... he thought!! He is so beautiful!!! ⁃ Can you smell me down there? My own scent is turning me on!! Here, let me help you smell me!! Gavin reached down and picked up an onlooker from the street. The man began to scream as Gavin raised him up off of the ground and brought him to his right hairy pit. ⁃ Lick my pit!! Smell me!!! You’ll never be as much of a man as I am!! The man did begin to lick Gavin’s pit, nervous at first, but then with more and more passion. ⁃ Good boy!! Maybe I’ll let you worship my cock later. Gavin lowered the man to the ground who just lay there, convulsing in orgasmic lust. ⁃ All of this growth has made me hungry. Bring me food!!! Lots of it!! And Guinness! I want barrels of Guinness!! Bring me this and I’ll... YES!!!! Gavin’s voice was suddenly even deeper and filled with more lust for power then ever before. Justin watched Gavin sway on his feet and recognised what was about to happen again. ⁃ Too late!!!! It’s building up inside me again... each time even more powerful then the last!!! Soon you’ll be nothing but ants beneath my feet... unimportant... Justin covered his ears as Gavin let out a deafening roar. His body was once again pulsating with power, swelling and growing larger with growth. Gavin’s quads had gotten bigger then ever before, resulting in a loud crack of his pelvis snapping and then repairing itself to enable more room for growth. Several buildings were demolished as Gavin stumbled around trying to maintain his footing. His pecs were so mountainous now that they totally prevented him from seeing what lay below them. Justin watched as his co-worker flexed for the crowd beneath him, long resolved to being the god he was quickly becoming. As his feet became larger then the cars below him, Gavin intentionally leaned over and swiped at any building in his way that prevented him from standing on solid ground. The police forced the crowd to safety, away from the falling debris. As he was moved all he could hear were the shouts from Gavin above, loving what he had become. ⁃ YES!!! RUN!!!! THIS GROWTH IS STRONGER THEN ANYTHING I’VE FELT PRIOR… MY MUSCLES EXPLODING WITH MORE AND MORE SIZE… MY COCK BIGGER THEN SOME BUILDINGS!!!! GETTING SO TALL… SO MIGHTY!!! THIS IS WHAT I WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO BE!!!! IM THE MOST POWERFUL CREATURE ON THIS PLANET!!! NO ONE EQUALS ME!!!! NO ONE!!!!! Gavin rocketed up further, his size quickly multiplying. Cum fell onto the street like rain as he ejaculated over and over again. Justin kept an eye on him as he ran up Charing Cross Road. Surely, Mr. Huang would help him if he claimed to be doing it to help the city. Someone had to stop this monster... He would say anything to get what he wanted. He knew that now. Once he had the teabag, he would let it sit in a giant mug for over an hour, microwave it, and swallow it all, including the herbs. This time he would win... he would join Gavin… and together they would get what they deserved. Yes… today he would win.

(Short edition from a little while back) The Growth IV “In here sir, this way.” A voice echoed in the locker room as, Tim, a thick and beefy cadet led Jake into the shower area. His massive frame extensively shifting side to side from his thick thighs and swollen lats, squeezing himself through the smaller openings. “Here.” Tim said pointing to the insanely huge mountain of mass before them. Brad looked like an enormous bloated beef whale lying on the floor, immobilized from his own growth. Of course, he would have certainly grown bigger, but his bones and tendons didn’t grow fast enough to accommodate. “I found them just a few minutes ago.” Faint moans were coming from Brad. “Them?” Jake looked down at the bulging pile with a grin, seeing two figures that looked like a couple of empty or deflated bags in front of Brad with a foot and a hand sticking out from his huge bulbous butt cheeks. “Should I go get someone to help?” Tim said almost urgently. Jake just looked over the awesome sight briefly. “No, everything should be fine.” “But we should really get…” Tim blurted quickly. “You did good Tim.” Stroking Tim’s hair and massaging his neck ever so gently when he suddenly thrust him down to his knees. “Such a good cadet.” Holding his head as his swelling cock rubbed Tim’s face. “Mmpghh.” Tim tried to breath as thick pre-cum gushed into his mouth and nose, squinting his eyes with his hands trying to pull himself up. Jake then crammed Tim’s head directly into his cock’s slit, pushing him in even further as the suction eventually took over, pulling the cadet down the inside of his shaft; his huge member was inflating even bigger to take in its meal. The entire process took just a few minutes for Tim’s body to wiggle and squirm all the way down to Jake’s balls where in just a short while all motion ceased. The huge muscle monster waddled up to Brad, dragging his swollen nutsack. “Looks like you got yourself into some trouble boy.” He rubbed the cadet’s overly thick traps and squeezed his huge pecs which looked like they were suffocating him. “Things don’t look too good for you Brad…this ship can only have one alpha.” He pulled Brad’s hair tight as he jammed the rock hard head of his cock into the cadet’s mouth; already having decreased its size to a reasonable, yet freakishly huge length and thickness. Brad started to gag on just the head as it painfully stretched and pulled his jaw in every direction. “Mmphgggglllleee…” Brad gurgled as more pre started to escape from Jake’s huge penis, flowing down into the cadet’s gut. “It’ll be over soon…a necessary sacrifice that many of your brothers have already faced…but growing is my destiny.” Jake winced his eyes and tensed his huge ass as thick creamy cum started to blow out his dick and into Brad’s already distended body, expanding quickly in his mid-section into a huge belly. The overflow went into the rest of his tissues, bloating and filling them to immense pressures as Brad looked like an over inflated balloon. The final orgasm arrived with a white rapid burst of ejaculate as Jake bellowed out in his deep tone, “YESSSSS!!!” Nobody heard the burst in the shower; a surprise for how loud and violent it was. The only thing that remained was a huge sticky mess, but easily vacuumed by Jake’s hungry cock. Overall it was the most he’d ever consumed in one day. His balls were so massive and tender, walking was the most uncomfortable thing he could think of doing. He needed time to absorb and rejuvenate. Jake plopped down on his massive glutes and leaned his head back against the shower wall. “Jake?” Dr. Matton’s voice softly chimed with a knock on the door. “You here sir?” The huge door to Jake’s quarters slowly opened as the doctor looked around, not seeing anyone. He stepped in fully, gazing over the large openness of the room. Everything had been significantly modified to accommodate Jake’s extraordinary size. There was no furniture, but just large blocks to sit on and a reinforced metal frame with a massive mattress for his bed. The dividing walls were torn out and just left open; the bathroom was even just an open space now. Matton looked over and saw a pile of torn and tattered clothes, some completely shredded, a testament to the progressive growth he was experiencing. The doctor stepped back and heard a wet squish under his boot, looking down he saw a large, thick puddle of white goo. “Ah shit.” He moaned, trying to wipe it off on the floor while inadvertently stepping in another puddle. The shit was everywhere. A good amount was even dripping from the ceiling; it was even noticeable that all his clothes in the torn pile were saturated with it. The entire room was literally oozing with Jake’s cum. Matton looked around as he pulled a specimen cup from his coat and scooped up a small wad. He headed out the door closing it behind him and began heading back to the lab as he sealed the cup. Jake finally came to, waking out of a relatively short, but deep slumber. The lockers were dead silent as the only sound heard was the humming of the lights and drips of water hitting the floor. He slowly stood up, pulling on one of the shower heads as it bent. “Ughh fuck.” He moaned, feeling like he was overcome with an intense hangover. Jake looked forward as everything seemed like a hazy fog, rubbing his eyes in hopes for a little more clarity. He started to take a few steps when felt a cramp in his right thigh; he reached down to rub it when he felt it on his left side. “Ah shit, this i…aAAGHHH!” He screamed out as both legs suddenly went into a violent spasm; gripping both of them as he could feel them push into his hands. His teeth grinded together feeling his legs swell and even his ass as his skin pulled painfully tight. “OHHH SHIIIT!!” Jake heard cracking and popping coming from deep in his leg joints; his toes and fingers thickened and inched out, snapping with each centimeter they grew. Every muscle in his quads was exploding out from each other, getting denser and longer while his already full hamstrings filled out even more. “CRACK!” Jake squealed as his left calf fanned out, causing the calcaneous bone to whip into a bigger socket as it too enlarged; his right calf soon followed suit. It started to feel like his rolling glutes were getting so big so fast that it was pushing his body forward, but it was soon countered with a thickening mid-section as his abs, staying as hard as granite, bulged and swelled. “NahhGHH!!!” Jake punched the wall with agonizing pain leaving a large broken hole and white powdery mortar on his hand. His back musculature flared out, pulling his ribs with them, it was getting large enough to project movies off of. Jake’s neck started to roll around his head while on the other side his already thick and meaty chest was growing so fast it looked like a couple of water balloons being filled from a faucet. He couldn’t imagine it going on for much longer, but he felt his jaw start to pop and click as it widened and lengthening, “OHHH!!” Jake moaned in an even deeper, thicker tone as his neck swelled and bugled with every vein visible. He tried to hold his face to brace the pain, but his arms weren’t immune to the growth as his biceps blew up bigger than giant watermelons, pulling down from his mountainous delts. He felt his jaw widen even more as he sensed something start to fill his mouth. It grew more and more until suddenly Jake gagged, throwing his mouth open as a huge, long, wet tongue slithered out. Jake’s eyes widened at the sight down his nose as it headed even further down, over the tremendous cliff of his pecs, through the valley’s of his abs, and then finally to his long, massive cock. He couldn’t fucking believe it, he was licking his own shaft, and it felt amazing. He was receiving more sensory input that he could with dozens of hands. The long and thick tongue slide up and down the monster appendage as it too grew with his body, not to mention his beanbag balls. Jake worked his tongue over the entire surface as he felt himself up with his even bigger hands, squeezing his pecs and running his fingers in the ridges of his ripped abs. His hands slide their way back to his magnificent ass, gripping and pressing on the meaty cheek bags, and giving one a hard slap. As he ran the other hand over to give his balls a good feel, he felt something else, something long, hard, and smooth…it was another cock, growing just outside of his main manmeat. Although it was probably a good 10 inches, it was nothing compared to the near 3ft he had in the center. He smiled as he stroked his new shaft, feeling it harden and drip pre, but as he brought back his other hand he found yet another. Feeling it dangle on the other side he started to stroke the other in unison. His tongue came back up and started to lick all over his pecs, twisting around and slipping over his tender nipples. “Mmmmm.” He moaned in delighted satisfaction. More pre oozed out and was sticking to his hands. But it just wasn’t enough, Jake’s tongue leeched down just under his balls by his man taint and began licking his own ass over. His huge drooling tongue lunged up his asshole, rimming himself deeply and passionately as he double jerked. The energy and power started to rush and surge through him as he tensed yet again, feeling his large toes dig into the ceramic floor as he cracked it, groaning deeply with an orgasm about to burst through his body as he howled to himself, knowing he was a true musclegod, “FUUCCKKKKKK!!!!” Three huge jets of cum exploded out of his cocks, spraying everything down with so much pressure tiles broke with the backsplash hosing down Jake himself. With a heavy sigh he let go the two dicks on his sides as they slapped back down into his meaty thighs. Jizz dripped from every inch of his even more massive body as he glided his fingers back through his hair with thick squish sound. His huge tongue rolled out and started to lick himself clean. To be continued...

Author’s note: This story feels like a bit of a risk for me. It is a muscle growth story, but it’s unlike any I’ve written for this site. I know that most of the stories I publish on this site have an emphasis on character, theme, and plot, but this story has even more of a focus on those elements. Also, it’s more of a slow burn than any of my other stories, and my stories already are quite slow burns (by design). In fact, these aspects of the story were so unignorable to me that I was very close to removing the muscle growth aspects of the story and working it into a novel that I would try to publish elsewhere. Ultimately, though, I decided the muscle growth aspects of this story were inextricable and un-excisable, so I let the work stand as it is. At the same time, it felt unfair not to give the reader a head’s up. I will continue to update Weird, but Sweet and this for as long as there’s an audience for both. TL;DR: if you’re looking for a quick wank, try another story. If you’re looking for a story with some erotic elements, read on.

*This is my first story ever – please feel free to critique + add suggestions!* Zap! Once upon a time, there was a man named Jake. He had always been self-conscious about his body, growing up he was bullied for being overweight and never felt comfortable in his own skin. However, he had always been attracted to men with big muscles and strong bodies, and he had always dreamed of having a physique like that. He had always wanted to have bigger muscles, to feel more confident and to be able to defend himself. He spent hours at the gym, trying to achieve his dream body but never really seeing the results he desired. One day, while browsing through an antique shop, he stumbled upon a tiny ray gun. The shop was dimly lit, with old dusty items scattered about, and the smell of musty wood in the air. The ray gun was an ancient-looking device, with intricate engravings and a strange arm symbol on the handle. He had no idea what the ray gun did, but he was intrigued by its unique design and decided to buy it. As he was leaving the shop, he saw a gym across the street and decided to check it out. Inside, he saw a guy with huge arms and chest lifting heavy weights. The guy had biceps that were so big they looked like they were about to burst out of his skin, his chest was also impressively massive, and his pecs were perfectly defined. He was lifting weights that Jake couldn't even dream of lifting, each dumbbell easily weighed at least 50 pounds each. The man’s body was dusted in a light coating of hair, glistening sweat running down his rippling muscles and had coursing blood flow of testosterone filled veins popping out of his arms like pythons. Jake couldn't help but feel a rush of arousal as he watched the guy flex and lift. He decided to try out the ray gun and aimed it at the guy's arms. The ray gun made a tiny electrical buzz but the beam was completely invisible. Nothing happened for a few minutes and then, to his surprise, the guy's strength slowly began to fade, making it harder for him to lift the weights rep by rep. His first set had started at an easy set of 12 but the second set he could barely lift the dumbbells for three reps before failure. Jake couldn't believe what was happening, but he couldn't deny the feeling of power and excitement it gave him. As he continued to watch the guy struggle with his lifts, Jake's own muscles began to grow and his clothes started to stretch. He could feel the power coursing through his body, and he couldn't stop himself from staring at another gym-goer with huge quads. Jake: "Wow, look at those quads on that guy. I bet he's really strong." Jake said in a noticeably deeper voice Friend: "Yeah, he's been working out for a long time. You should talk to him, maybe he could give you some tips." Jake: "Yeah, maybe I will." As the second gym-goer was doing squats, Jake zapped him with the ray gun and watched as his strength slowly began to fade. The guy had legs that were massive, his quadriceps were bulging out of his shorts, and his muscles rippling as he lifted the weights. He was lifting weights that Jake couldn't even dream of lifting, the barbell was loaded with plates that weighed at least 600 lbs. Jake couldn't stop grinning as he felt his own legs growing bigger and stronger. He could see his own quadriceps bulging out of his shorts and his muscles rippling as he flexed. His calf muscles became round and firm, his thigh muscles rippling with power. As he continued to use the ray gun, Jake noticed some changes in his body. He had more body hair and a slightly deeper voice each time he used the ray gun. His muscles were getting bigger and harder, and previously barely-there chest hair was becoming coarser, slightly catching on his tight workout shirt as he stood up. Jake's boyfriend couldn't help but notice the changes in his body. He kept commenting on how the gym was paying off, and she couldn't get enough of his growing muscles. Jake felt a surge of testosterone as he flexed in front of him, showing off an impressive physique. Jake: "I can't believe how much stronger I'm getting. I've never felt this good before." Boyfriend: "I know, it's amazing. Your muscles are getting bigger and bigger every day. I can't keep my hands off of them." "I don't know how you're doing it, but it's working. Keep it up." Jake knew that he had found a secret weapon that would help him achieve his goals faster and more efficiently. He continued to use the ray gun every time he went to the gym and he saw his muscles grow at an alarming rate. His biceps bulged out of his sleeves like he had always dreamed, his chest became more defined and his legs became bigger and more muscular, filling out his shorts like tree trunks. He had never felt so confident and attractive. He was addicted to the feeling of power that came with the ray gun, and he knew that he would never give it up. He was determined to become the most muscular and attractive man in the gym. Jake's newfound confidence and muscle mass attracted attention from other gym-goers, and some of them even asked him for tips on nutrition and how to use machines properly. He couldn't help but feel powerful and in control as chose victims to “borrow” a bit of their strength. However, Jake kept the secret of the ray gun to himself, enjoying the feeling of power it gave him and the attention it brought him. One day, after a hard workout set that left him feeling pumped and energized, Jake decided to head to the sauna to relax and unwind. As he entered the sauna, he felt the heat envelop him, and he couldn't help but feel invigorated. He slowly stripped off his shirt, revealing his hot, glistening body, and as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he couldn't believe what he saw. He saw a man with an Adonis-like body staring back at him. His muscles were perfectly defined and rippling, his chest was impressively massive and his pecs were perfectly defined, his abs were like a washboard, his biceps were like bowling balls. He couldn't help but admire his physique, he felt like a Greek God, he flexed his muscles and felt the power coursing through his veins. He knew that he had finally achieved his dream body, and he felt proud and accomplished. He was built like a tank, he had shoulders as broad as a door with every muscle perfectly defined. He turned around to check out his back, he was impressed by the way his lats flared out and his traps stood out like mountains. He was truly a sight to behold. He couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and arousal as he admired his own muscles in the mirror, he knew that he had worked hard to achieve this physique and it was all worth it. Then, just after Jake was finishing up in the sauna, a new guy walked in that caught his eye. He was tall, with globe-like boulder shoulders and a chiseled chest. Clearly, he had been working out for years, dedicating himself to achieving such an impressive physique. Jake couldn't help but stare, shoulders were always his weak point, and he had never seen such a massive set before. He felt a rush of arousal as he watched the guy walk by, the way his muscles flexed and bulged with each movement, it was like watching a work of art in motion. He smiled mischievously and introduced himself as he offered to help spot his new gym buddy. The guy looked at Jake with a smile and said "Sure, I could use a spotter."

Brad lost consciousness against Taranis’ billowing, heaving, and granite-hard chest and beneath his thick and powerful arms. His dreams were filled with images of his hulking creation of biological and genetic manipulation using his power in demonstration of his destructive and brutal superiority. He awakened to the inviting Hawaiian sun streaming through the windows and a note from Taranis on the bed next to him. “Good morning, Uncle B!” it read, “That will be the last time I call you that. I will now refer to you, and introduce you, as my dad, and you will refer to me, and introduce me, as your son. Thank you so much for hosting me on my visit to the University. I’m sure you’re worn out from our initial meeting yesterday. LOL! I want to reiterate how much I love you and how appreciative I am that you created my embryo and agreed to implant me into El. Kai and El were a perfect choice to be my adoptive parents and, for your sake, I am sorry that my realization of what I am resulted in their demise, troublesome to you as it may be. Take solace in the fact that, even had they not been consumed with desire for me to unveil my true nature as they beheld what I am, their lustful craving to be ravaged out of existence by me radiated from their core. They both ravenously yearned for what happened to them in that basement, Dad, believe me. They both died rapturously happy and thankful, praying for the ways in which their endings were granted.” The lengthy note continued, “Also, please know that how I treated you after we arrived at the hotel was purely to feed that deep-seated hunger for what I am which I know you have repressed and hidden your entire life. You know there is no purpose for me to spare you from my desire to expunge such puny insects from the face of the earth, nor to please one so pathetically insignificant as you truly are, but I choose to do so, Dad. This choice is in appreciation for your bravery in creating me and your insatiable, worshipful lust for me to be, well, the titanic muscle monster you have spawned!” Brad began stroking his spent dick as he continued reading. “Obviously, I will not be returning to the mainland after this week, Dad. I will stay here and live with you. The time for me to reveal my true nature will transpire solely for my enjoyment and pleasure. My lustful desire to feel worshipful awe and instill terrifying fear within puny humanity pulses powerfully through my veins and is growing constantly, as I have no doubt you had hoped it would when you created me, my loving and faithful little power-slut! I know that you are incapable of denying the worshipful devotion you are feeling towards me even at this very moment. You are so piteously incapable of resisting me, you weak little bug! Rest assured I am feeling your desire for everything Taranis at this second. Be VERY thankful how pleased I am with you right now, Dad. Thank me, Dad . . . NOW!” Brad gushed lovingly and prayerfully, “Taranis, thank you, my godly and perfectly malevolent, living conception!” Taranis, just entering the admissions building, heard his dad’s voice thanking and praising him. He grinned broadly and licked his thick, sexy lips hungrily as his cock twitched and pulsed. Instantly, Brad heard Taranis’ powerful voice in his head, “Mmmmm, yes, good, dinky Dad. Your obedience pleases your brutally powerful and beastly son!” Brad jizzed powerfully at the inaudible sound of his son’s omnipotent voice. His dick rocketed cum with each of his son’s words. “Oh, GOD! He knows even my THOUGHTS!” burst into his brain, more a reverential thought than a fearful exclamation. “That I do, Dad . . . ” Taranis’ voice lovingly thundered in Brad’s head, “. . . and I also know something else you have always longed for. That which I now bestow upon you, favored little insect.” Brad immediately felt a heat in his crotch as his dick lurched, pulsing with painfully pleasing hardness, almost feeling like the long, thick and muscular pleasure slab would explode. The heat quickly pulsed throughout his body and his muscles tensed, hardened, and began to swell. Soon each beat of his heart felt like the eruption of a full-body orgasm. Muscles rippled and rolled, swelling larger, harder, more defined. As quickly as it began, it subsided. Brad got off of the bed and walked into the bathroom. He felt disoriented, but enjoyed the feeling of walking, muscles hardening to larger masses than he could ever have dreamed of, rolling against each other, rippling and venous. He looked down and grinned. “Thank you, Son!” His formerly respectably-sized package was now befitting a bull. He looked in the mirror and his jaw dropped. His former size was enviable, but now! FUCK! He was massive and GORGEOUS . . . and looked more bodybuilder than scientist. His new long, thick, and venous cock detonated in spasmodic explosions of orgasmic bliss at the sight of his body’s new Taranis enhancement. Brad’s now large hands roamed the expansive ranges of thick, hard muscle encasing and rolling over his incredibly stunning body. “Oh, Taranis! I am not worthy of your kindness to me!” he cried in joy. “That you are not, pathetic little bug, yet you please me.” Taranis projected. “And, Dad . . . I need you sturdy enough for me to fuck mercilessly without being torn apart. You want me to fuck you, boi, don’t you . . . to stuff you full of my brutally destructive muscle-cock, splitting you apart with my size and power?” Brad fell to his knees. “Oh, yes!” he drooled lustfully, “I am yours to use as you please, my son, my GOD!” ____________________ Taranis smiled broadly and stepped into the Student Services building, enjoying his Dad’s complete acceptance and submission and, also, drinking in the astonished stares of everyone in the office as he entered. He rumbled down to the girl at the receptionist desk, “I am Taranis here to see Mr. Kekoa.” The receptionist drooled back, “First or last name, sir?” “I am Taranis.” Taranis answered, “That is all.” “Uh. Okay. Whatever you say, stud.” the receptionist responded blankly, flustered that her thoughts escaped her lips. Her hungry eyes devoured the muscle barely constrained by the fabric stretching tightly across the boy’s arms and torso. “My, you’re absolutely huge, Mr. Taranis!” she stammered as her brain practically screamed, “GOD! I want to see what’s under that shirt!” she thought as her mind continued to undress the muscle-bound boy smiling down at her. Her eyes landed on the prodigious bulge of the boy’s crotch, mushroom cock-head clearly outlined at the end of his thick tube of cock-flesh snaking down his tight shorts. Her pussy gushed with desire and she began to pant. She fumbled at the phone and finally pushed the intercom button, “Mr. Kekoa. A ‘Taranis’ is at the front desk to see you.” “He should be here in a moment, Sir.” Olani told Taranis as he grinned at her and implanted a picture in her head of him flexing nude over her, bulging obscenely in all his glory as his arm-sized phallus basted her in his ever-flowing, steaming, masculine nectar. Olani looked into his deep blue eyes and panted out in orgasmic ecstasy under her breath, “Oh, fuck!” as she rubbed her wet, hungry pussy. She didn’t know where such a sexually charged and pornographic thought had come from, but basked in the overwhelming feeling of lustful horniness. Taranis grinned knowingly, “Tell Mr. Kekoa I’ll be checking out the Warrior Recreation Center, would you, Olani?” He turned and walked out, revealing his muscular, barn-wide lats, bowling ball shoulders, massive triceps, and solid, mounds of rippling, rolling ass muscle, all flexing powerfully, rising and falling, inflating and solidifying, as he left. “Now, HE could protect me from Makoa.” Olani couldn’t help but think. Makoa was her abusive boyfriend. She imagined the colossal and obviously powerful boy dominating and overpowering the pathetic bastard, totally destroying him so he would never abuse anyone again. Taranis’ mind absorbed that thought as he walked away and made a mental note to give her whatever she desired. Olani whimpered as Taranis left the building. Before she jumped up and rushed to the restroom to clean up and compose herself, Mr. Kekoa appeared at her desk inquiring where Taranis was. She pointed to the door. “Heading to the Rec Center to wait for you.” she muttered, seemingly out of breath. He looked out the door and saw the massively muscular teen heading over to the Rec Center just across and down the street. Taranis strode towards the Warrior Recreation Center on Campus Road, enjoying the stunned looks he received as he walked up the street. He stepped off of the road towards the Rec Center when he felt a small hand on the outside of his bulging and rippling triceps and biceps. ____________________ Mr. Kekoa caught up with Taranis on Campus Road. As he approached, he realized that, even having absorbed the massive muscles the boy had, he had misjudged the truly colossal size of this colossal and, obviously, powerful student. The triceps rippling off of the back of the boy’s arms were larger than the counselor's head. They fought barn-door wid lats for space that tapered down to a rounded, muscular ass. The thick torso was held up by legs rivaling the smaller man’s chest in circumference. Thick, pulsing, deep-blue veins mapped over every visible muscular surface, exuding pure power and supreme superiority. The flexing mass of the split calf muscles left no doubt as to the incredible strength this muscle-boy must wield. The counselor reached out (and up) and placed his palm on the boy’s arm. “Holy SHIT!” escaped from his lips as his palm contacted Taranis' hot, hard muscles. His palm stretched out on the outside of the boy’s massive arm. His fingers didn’t even reach the top of the mountainous split biceps of Taranis’ mighty arm. “Jesus CHRIST, this kid is MASSIVE!!” he thought to himself as he felt his dick twitch appreciatively. “Taranis, I’m Mr. Kekoa.” the stunned and unabashedly admiring counselor bleated, clearing his throat. The veritable mountain of teen muscle slowly turned and grinned down to the man touching his arm. He flexed slightly, causing his arm to expand and harden even further beneath the astonished counselor’s hand as the expanding flesh covering the powerful muscles slid beneath his touch. “Nice to meet you, Sir.” Taranis boomed, feeling the smaller man’s shock and awe being in the presence of the powerfully muscular and breathtakingly handsome young titan. Suddenly there was a screeching of tires, a loud CRASH, and the squealing of tortured metal on the street. Taranis shoved Mr. Kekoa behind him and stretched out his massive palm as a car, sliding on its roof, slid towards them. The front of the car crumpled upon impact with Taranis’ unmoving hand, his mighty body unmoving and bringing the car to a dead stop. The other car jumped the curb and came to rest as the passenger side crumpled into a tree. Mr. Kekoa, now on his back from Taranis’ saving shove, witnessed Taranis’ tight t-shirt shred from his torso as the boy’s muscles exploded with immeasurable power, stopping the car as if it had hit a concrete wall. Being a straight homophobe, his brain couldn’t process the instant blood-engorging erection that sprang to salute ultimate masculinity in action. The terrifyingly transcendent Taranis’ dominant supremacy was tangible in that moment. The now sexually confused man began to drool as Taranis stepped to the overturned SUV, slipped the fingers of one hand beneath the car and effortlessly flipped it over as unstoppable brawn and sinew erupted beneath every inch of his his dark, smooth, and perfect skin. ____________________ Makoa had been driving to the Rec Center when he saw the most massively muscular student talking to one of the University’s counselors. Being distracted by someone so young having attained a body beyond anything he could ever hope to achieve by working out, he crossed into the oncoming traffic lane and collided with another car. He saw the herculean boy put out his hand and stop the flipped car’s slide. He was sure that he was in shock when he thought he saw the bare-chested behemoth slip his massive hand under his SUV and flip it back onto its wheels with just one barrel-sized arm. ____________________ Tarnanis placed his hand on the crumpled door of the SUV and clenched his fist, fingers piercing the metal door like it was butter before simply tearing it off of the body and dropping it on the street. All Makoa could see was rippling, writhing muscle ballooning through the hole left by the door’s effortless removal at the hands of the giant teen now addressing him. “I’m Taranis, sir, are you okay? What’s your name?” the muscle-boy boomed. “M-M-Makoa is my name. Thank you, young man.” Makoa responded weakly even as the sensual aroma of testosterone charged male superiority accosted his nostrils. Tiranis stood and turned his head on his thick, sloping trapezius muscles to ask his counselor if he was okay. Mr. Kekoa nodded yes, mouth agape in disbelief. Makoa gawked at the arm-sized fuck muscle stretching this boy’s shorts out and into the side of the vehicle. He could clearly see the thick, venous shaft and mushroom head outlined beneath the stretched shorts. Hefty, churning nuts were also clearly visible. The all-powerful boy’s fingers then pierced the roof of the vehicle and peeled it back like it was nothing but tin foil. He looked up to see the dark, angry face of the most stunning man he’d ever seen, planetary pectorals flexed and rippled with a power that couldn’t be imagined. Bricks of abdominal beef larger than Makoa’s hands ground together hypnotically. “Makoa, eh?” Taranis growled, “Olani asked me to give you a message, you pathetically weak little abusive pussy-boi. I see you’re impressed with a REAL man’s cock, pencil-dick, and its going to fuck you up, litteraly as well as figuratively.” With that, Taranis flexed his colossal cock and his short’s began to tear with the pressure his slight flex elicited. Sirens could be heard approaching. Makoa pissed himself as he looked up at the gorgeous titan stating his sentence matter-of-factly. He passed out even as blood flooded his worthless little dick in the presence of real manhood. ____________________ Taranis looked around and it appeared that no one had witnessed what had transpired. The woman in the other vehicle appeared to be okay, but was unconscious. Taranis turned back to Mr. Kekoa and said, “Okay, Mr. Kekoa, let’s get back to your office before the cops arrive and begin asking questions. We’ll grab me something to cover my torso from the Rec Center, first. You okay with that?” “Yes, Sir.” Mr. Kekoa responded obediently as he drooled with worshipful desire. Taranis had allowed his counselor the privilege of seeing his plans for Makoa, a glimpse of what true, unrestrained power can do. His homophobia was forevermore eradicated and his desire for sexual satisfaction from his wife, and for women in general, was replaced with desire and devotion towards only one.

Chapter 1 Brian Salk was walking down the street in a tight-fitting T-shirt, the kind that clung to him so snugly that you could see all of his muscles beautifully pressed against the fabric. People who saw him thought he lived a charmed life as one of the world’s youngest self-made billionaires, at 25 he was the latest wonder kid to make it big in the tech industry. He was on the cover of magazines and billboards. The media was taken by his other talents as well, particularly his prowess as a body builder. Shirtless photos of “the Billion Dollar Six Pack” were everywhere. That combined with his ability to speak 10 languages, play piano and violin like a virtuoso, and his status as a chess master made him into quite the modern-day renaissance man. Brian didn’t mind the attention. He liked people checking him out. It was the closest he could get to imagining what being in a relationship was like. His father, to whom he felt he owed everything, did not approve of his son being in a relationship, not because he was gay. His sexuality was common knowledge and all of his “brothers” were (something that was not common knowledge). Rather he and the old man shared a secret, the key to all of Brian’s successes. A secret that if the world were to know, could end Brian’s freedom forever. Brian was the last of the “Children of AIM” (AIM being the Army Institute of Mutagenesis). A military agency devoted to the development of the American Supersoldier. After a disaster that led to the catastrophic quarantine of an entire town, and the “loss” of one of the founders of the program, the project was deemed as too dangerous to continue. The three remaining super soldier subjects or, “Children of AIM” as they were known, were sent to various families within the United States to be raised as normal children. However, Dr. Gregory Salk was unable to say goodbye to the child he had created undertook to raise the boy as his own son and hone his abilities for the good of humanity. His superior intelligence and athletic prowess were the result of billions of dollars of secret investment. But Brian had abilities that went far beyond that. As a gift from his treatments at AIM, he could change his body size and musculature at will, a skill that would have made him nearly invincible on the battlefield. As he was now a free man, that particular talent was no longer strictly needed. It did however come in handy in another of Brian’s hobbies. You see, Brian always felt the need to give back to society, so he led another life, the life of a crime fighting hero. A life that was about to be tested once again. “Hey Brian!” came a familiar voice. “Huh?” he said, looking around. “Oh! Hey Jake!” Jake’s father owned a bank and as his son, he managed all of his charitable work. Being a philanthropist himself, Brian ran into him all the time, which was torture because Jake was the most gorgeous man that he had ever seen and the young billionaire was head over heels for him. To make matters worse Jake was openly gay and single. Brian hated having to keep his feelings a secret. To be fair, Brian only thought he was keeping it a secret. Anyone with half a brain could see the way he blushed whenever Jake walked in a room or fumbled for words. Or the way his package bulged up whenever Jake touched him. “I was just grabbing some coffee big guy,” Jake said, walking over, casually placing a hand on his friend. “You want to join?” “Yeah well… I… uhhh coffee sounds nice… you ummm like coffee?” In truth he’d been on his way to a meeting but those fingers on his arm made him temporarily forget anything about that. “Uh… yeah…” Jake chuckled. “We had coffee together at Autism Gala, and that cancer event before that. For a genius you’ve got a lousy memory.” He said gently prodding his large friend in the side. “Oh right… yeah sorry…” he said, blushing and scratching the back of his head. Soon the thoughts began again. He had a condo in this neighborhood. He could just take Jake up there and they could have glorious… “Earth to Brian.” His thoughts were interrupted by a slightly impatient Jake. “You want to join or…?” “Oh… yeah… sure…” he stammered. “Excellent.” Jake took Brian by the arm, effectively leading him like a puppy. The two walked a few blocks together and were having a great time enjoying their coffee when Brian’s highly engineered hearing picked up a disturbing sound. “Gimmie da cash or I use your guts to paint dese bricks!” That was followed by the sound of someone pleading. “Crap…” He pulled out his phone as cover. “Look I’m really sorry, I’ve got to run!” “Always on the run…” Jake sighed. Without another word Brian jumped up from the table. As soon as he was out of Jake’s line of vision he ducked into an empty alley and pulled a spandex wrestling mask from his back pocket and placed it over his head. Then he pulled off his shirt and pants, stuffing them away into the backpack that he always carried with him and hid it in a corner of the alley, revealing nothing but a tight stretchy bottom. Clenching his teeth and concentrating on his body, his already impressive biceps began to bulge out, his famous six pack bulged into an eight pack, his back muscles went into a state of upheaval as his traps and delts began to broaden. His pecs ballooned out, forcing his nipples even lower. His clingy shorts were stretching against his inflating bubble butt and thighs. He was becoming… The Tank. As his body swelled with more and more muscle he began to grow taller, passing 6’ 6’’ then seven feet. The rush of power flowing through his veins was incredible as pound after pound filled into his body. He passed the 8-foot mark with 800 pounds of raw muscle with arms and legs the size of tree trunks, abs bulging out like grapefruits, with lats that pushed his arms outward. Time for action. He bounded away after the sound, leaping over the street as agile as a deer, darting from alley to alley as if he were flying until he came upon what he was looking for. Three guys had a Somali immigrant pinned to the wall. “I told ya, if ya don’t buy de insurance in dis country, bad t’ings can happen!” “Please… I wont have enough to feed my kids if I pay that much!” he begged. “Sounds like your company needs to go out of business.” It wasn’t the best line but Brian was working on that part of the job. “What da hell?” One of the thugs looked up just a trash can came hurtling at them, knocking two of them off their feet. The remaining one looked up at the behemoth standing before him and realized his worst nightmare had found him. The bulging, masked goliath took a few steps toward him. “De Tank…” he muttered, legs shaking like noodles, and pulled out a gun. Before he could get off a shot, The Tank had slammed a massive elbow into his gut, sending him flying into a nearby chain link fence. He turned to the immigrant. “Get out of here!” But there was no need for that. He’d already taken off down the alley. Brian reached down to the two thugs he’d knocked down with the trash can and picked them up by their shirts. “Now I want to get one thing clear with you punks.” He growled, his voice deep and booming. “There’s gonna be no insurance racket in this town as long as I have anything to say about it. So if I see you again you better have a new occupation.” Suddenly there was a loud bang and flash of pain in his left arm. He knew it instantly, he’d been shot… again. The man he’d knocked into the fence had gotten up and pulled out another gun. He effortlessly hurled the two miscreants on top of his assailant and walked over to the pile and picked up the dropped hand gun as a steady trickle of blood ran down his arm. “You know, that just pisses me off,” he said crushing the weapon in his other hand. “You better be pretty glad I’m not like you.” He said dropping the useless pile of metal. Unhooking a belt from his waist, he stretched it out and wrapped around the three of them. “That ought to hold you.” He said clipping it together, causing a light to begin to flash. Once locked it was nearly impossible for them to get out. The homing beacon would alert the police, and an electronic USB stick would play a recording of the event. He might even make the news tonight, he thought as he bounded away back to the alley where he had dumped his clothes. When he got there, he flexed his arm until the bullet popped out. They never went in very deep. Shrinking back down to his usual size, he pulled a compression bandage out of the backpack and wrapped it around his arm. Bullets didn’t do much damage when he was ‘tanked out’ (as he liked to call it) and his modified body was pretty good at healing without a scar but they did hurt. It was like getting stung by a giant hornet. Quickly getting his clothes on he headed up to the condo he owned in the neighborhood to get cleaned up, sending an email to his colleagues that he was sorry to have missed the meeting. He had five new text messages but one of them in particular was difficult to answer. It was from Jake. “See you around, handsome. Maybe one day you won’t be too busy to hang out.” It bit him to the core. He felt like he would have given anything to have been able to finish that cup of coffee with him. ‘But then that man might not have been able to go home to his kids.’ He heard his father’s voice in his head. That evening, his walk back to Mid Town where he and his father made their primary dwelling on several floors of a skyscraper was a lonely one. “You really could have built me to make the bullets hurt less,” he told his father Gregory that night as the 65-year-old gently attended to the wound. The old man laughed. “You should have seen how some of the other super soldiers reacted. Some of them had better healing than you do and they would scream and run away at the mere sight of a gun.” “Maybe that’s what I should do,” Brian grumbled. “You’re the one who chose to be ‘The Tank’. I would have been just as happy for you to devote your life to computers, arts or science,” his father said. “But I’m proud of you. Every person you save makes my life’s work seem more worthwhile.” He smiled and then added, “Also if you wouldn’t grow so large you wouldn’t make such an easy target. I’m sure you don’t have to be so massive to deal with street thugs.” Brian chuckled. “Do you want to take away the one really fun part of my life?” His father sighed. “I suppose not.” “I met Jake today for a coffee.” Brian threw in as casually as he could. “Oh? How’s his family doing. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen his father.” “They’re fine I guess. I… mostly forgot to ask,” Brian said with a sigh. “You know… we do a lot of charity work, we should plan an event with them or…” “Brian…” his father said, sealing the wound with a special adhesive he’d invented for his son. “Is that really a good idea? I know how you feel about him. There is such a thing as tormenting yourself for no reason.” “Well I wouldn’t have to torture myself if you’d let me see him,” Brian retorted. “And what would he think of us?” Gregory said, “What would he think of our life?! Of who and what you really are?” He sighed and patted his son on his uninjured shoulder. “The army is clear on this. If people find out about AIM through you, they will ‘reposess’ you. It took everything in my power to get them to release you to me when you were 18 months old… I don’t have the connections that I used to have.” “Well what if he doesn’t know?” Brian asked. “I don’t have to tell him!” “Son you grow in your sleep sometimes… It took me four months to design a bed that you wouldn’t break when you were 12. When you get too “excited” you start to morph. These are things you just can’t hide from a partner.” “Well, why can’t you just fix those things?” Brian said. “You come up with solutions to everything else.” “I gave you a mind easily a match for mine, and it’s still young and in its prime. If anyone could fix the kinks of the super soldier program it would be you,” Gregory said. “But I think that Pandora’s box is left closed. You are the last of them… and the most functional I might add.” He said with a bit of pride. “Right now I’d give anything to just be normal. To finally know what it’s like to truly be with someone,” Brian muttered. “I know it’s hard… I’ve had to make the same sacrifices you have. You’re all I’ve got.” The big guy heaved a remorseful sigh. “I’m sorry Father. You’re right.” “Why don’t you stay in tonight.” His father said, patting him on the back. “You’ve done enough for one day. I’ve got something I need to work on in the lab.” Brian was left alone to look out over the city lights. While he was designed to easily be able to go many nights without sleep, and he often did, this particular day felt like it needed to end. So he went to bed. That night he tossed around in his sleep. His dreams were troubled by visions of masked men dressed in black, hunting him down. He jerked himself awake in bed with a loud “No!” and looked down at his swollen body, buffed up by the fear in his nightmare. The pounding of his heart echoed his head. He’d only gained about 100 pounds in his sleep this time. “Perhaps Dad’s right… I just can’t control this.” His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Uh… yes?” The door opened and to his shock, Jake stepped into the room. “I heard you shouting and I thought you might need some company.” “How… how did you get in here?” Brian stammered pulling the sheets over his naked body. His dream growth shredded anything comfortable he could sleep in. “Does it matter? I’m here now,” he said walking over to the bed. “Do you want me to leave?” “No… no… I just don’t get…” Brian was fumbling with his words as Jake pulled off his shirt and began to crawl on top of the sheets over to him. He’d seen that lovely chest before, at socials where there was a pool. His cock was throbbing, he’d wanted to touch that body so often and here it was crawling into his bed. Jake climbed onto of his massive target and straddled him before licking those massive pecs which began to swell under his touch. “Fuck… no! I can’t… not in front of… awww fuck.” It felt so good. Jake pressed his lips against Brian’s’ and massaged those nipples as his inflating pecs pushed them downward. “Mmmmm, that’s a neat trick. Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” Jake said licking Brian’s traps, making their veins pop out as they bulged into his face. “Didn’t… think… you’d understand…” Brian said, gently pulling down Jake’s pants so he could feel that luscious ass of his. “I only understand that I’ve never wanted anything more,” Jake said, pulling down the sheets and driving his cock into Brian’s massive abs. “God, you’re incredible,” Brian moaned as his abs bulged around the cock that was riding up and down the slit between them. “Wanted this for so long,” he said, growing taller as the man he’d wanted to be with more than any other began to move up and down his massive frame. His balls began to swell larger than fists as his cock began to grow, poking Jake in the back. “Seems like someone’s ready to play,” Jake said reaching and stroking the massive rod. “Never… done this… before,” Brian moaned. “Let me show you how it’s done,” Jake whispered and mounted the giant member and slowly slid himself down on it. Brian’s balls were so excited that they began to swell like mad first to cantaloupes then to basketballs. His cock grew to 24’’ and Jake had to balance himself on the giant balls to ride it. Brian could feel his ass expanding into an enormous bubble butt. Jake took notice and reached down to squeeze it while he could still reach it. His fingers spread the massive ass cheeks expanded in his hand. The reinforced bed was beginning to creak and strain under the new weight as Brian’s biceps grew larger than Jake’s entire torso. He passed 8’ 6’’ as his balls swelled to the size of beach balls. Each of his massive pecs weighed over 100 pounds of raw muscle as he bounced them in delight. Jake felt the expanding lats pushing even further out from Brian’s massive sides. As he was skewered on the enormous dick like a toy. Pre-cum started to gush out of that giant cock, overflowing Jake’s ass and spilling out down his enormous shaft, completely soaking the bed. “Awww fuck I’m gonna cum!” Brian shouted when suddenly an alarm went off. He opened his eyes as one of his massive balls slid off the cum soaked bed and bounced onto the floor, stretching his sweaty nutsack. A jet of cum blasted him in the face as his balls unloaded onto no one but himself. He was alone it had been a wet dream. His body had expanded so much that the bed alarm had gone off to wake him. Brian had passed the 1000-pound safety limit. He coughed a little as another massive blast of cum covered his face and chest in spunk. He laid there panting for a moment, unable to shrink just yet. The hottest thing he’d ever imagined had just happened and it wasn’t even real. He idly rubbed his cum soaked nipple wishing so hard that Jake could be there but he’d proven his father’s point. As globs of jizz rolled down the bedsides he realized that being intimate with anyone was going to mean revealing his true identity.

In case you didn't see, this is a continuation of Chapter 1 posted earlier this month. I've still got more to finalize, but keep the comments coming! Chapter 2 I awoke with a start, completely disoriented and unsure of my location. The room I was laying in was dimly lit and sparsely furnished. I was definitely not in my condo... then just as I began to remember the costume & the bracelet…BOOM. The door slammed open and the bright lights flickered on. “Its party time Dearie, are you happier now?” the older women said, indicating a extra-large mirror on the far wall, “I want every customer to be 100% satisfied.” Moving to stand in front of the mirror, I watched my rugged jaw go slack. I had been in shock from my earlier transformation, but I simply could not believe my own reflection now. When I had walked into the store I was a 230lb jacked bodybuilder, who also happened to own a pornstar’s cock. Hell, that guy from Starbucks had told me I was the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen and I would have easily agreed with him. Until Now. There was no denying it at this point; I was a god among men. The face staring back at me would put any model to shame. Rugged, manly, and flawless with a dazzlingly smile I could have been on any magazine cover. Bright emerald eyes, careful arched brows, and hair and stubble that seem to have its own golden glow. I would have made Brad Pitt feel insecure. Below my perfect features, every part of my body was now bigger, better, and more masculine. Miraculously my costume still fit, although it was now almost pitifully small and stretched to the breaking point, which simply highlighted my incredible body. My torn pants were now capris due to my increased size and height. My now visible calves bulged below the hems, their diamond shape visible even from the front. Above them, the individual heads of my quads appeared to be making new tears in the taught fabric with each breath, but really they fibers were so defined they were actually visible under the thin fabric. In fact, the pants were so tight my quads were threatening to rip them completely to pieces at any moment. My VERY obviously thicker cock and balls weighed down the fabric in the front to the point that not a bulge or inch was left to the imagination. The weight of my basket was so great that the skimpy fabric was pulled taught around my thick glutes, making my phenomenally perky ass seem even more incredible. Up top, my pitifully undersized vest barely came down to the top of my rippling 10-pack. Each ab was perfectly defined, with my obliques and even those little muscles on your rib cage standing in proud attention at every breath! There was absolutely no hope of my vest ever closing across my chest anymore, it was basically child’s size now. My pecs were wider, broader, and thicker than two line-backers, accentuated by a thick division down the center I could Lose a few fingers in. My thick back and wide lats made me seem to be twice the man I was before, and my shoulders appeared to be wider than most people were tall, with bowling ball delts that redefined the word “shredded.” I swear I would have to turn sidewise just to get into my apartment now! Finally my eye’s got to my arms, and I’d obviously saved the best for last. My arms were easily thicker than most guys legs. My biceps and triceps bulged, even unflexed, to mountainous proportions. I could see each head of the muscles clearly, and each were accentuated with thick veins that highlighted their vascularity. Even my forearms were a roadmap of veins and rippling muscles, and probably nearly as big as my biceps had been! “Holy shit! This is INCREDIBLE.” I said flexing my powerful biceps in the mirror. I was completely mesmerized by their parabolic shape. “Any chance you can tell me how big I am now?” “Sure, measuring tape is right hear for customers. We can make modifications until you are fully satisfied. Please undress for measurements.” She said with an easy smile. Whoever this lady was, she really took customer satisfaction to an extreme! Ten hours ago, I would never have have stripped in front of a stranger. Hell, I wouldn’t have stripped in front of anyone. But today had been an eventful day. I’d fucked someone in Starbucks, and now gained at least two hundred pounds of solid muscle, what did I really have to be embarrassed about? I quickly stripped and damn did I look HOT! I was a wet-dream made flesh. My massive muscles stood in bold relief, flexed even when I was just standing there. My glowing tan skin accented by body, making me look looked a bronzed statue of some gorgeous hyper-muscled Greek god or X-Men comic superhero. Of course, at the center of it all, my massive equipment hung low and full, so maybe it was more like XXX-Men. Despite my huge proportions, I didn't look just like some overgrown freak. My muscles were all perfectly complimentary…Its hard to explain but I just looked like one prime specimen! I flexed on command as she measured, giving me my new measurements as she went. I now stood 6 feet 4 inches tall, not a huge gain in height but my extra width made me seem far larger. My neck was 22” around and my incredible chest was 64”. My arms were each 24” though they looked even bigger thanks to my incredible definition and parabolically split-bicep peaks. She measured my poster-boy 10-pack abs at 32”, a far cry from my blubbery 44” waist that morning. My quads were 34” around, each bigger than my waist! And my calves were no slouches either at 23” massive inches each. Stepping onto the scale she told me I now weighed 335 lbs and my bodyfat was at 4.4%. In one eventful afternoon I’d gained 4 inches in height and over 200lbs of solid muscle. All the number and flexing got my juices flowing more. By the time she was done measuring, I had a raging hard-on. Again, the old me would have been mortified, but that really didn’t make sense anymore. Before I could even suggest it, she grabbed her tape measure and stretched it up and around my oh-so-sensitive dick. 16” long and 6” around. Damn, I must to have the biggest cock in the world! Just hearing those numbers caused my dick to spasm, sending thick ropes of cum across the mirror for nearly a minute. I started to apologize, but she just silenced me with a look. “You seem happy now, are you satisfied?” I just smiled, unable to take my eyes of my reflection. Perfect body, massive cock, and ruggedly-handsome face. This really was a dream come true! “Very satisfied,” I said with a deep chuckle. “My only problem is I am going to need a lot of new clothes!” “I have plenty more to fit BIG men like you. I will get some together while you get dressed, you don’t want to be late for the party Dearie!” She said with a smile, leaving me alone in the back room. I got dressed, still amazed at how this costume stretched to fit my every curve perfectly. I honestly couldn’t say if I looked better naked or clothed; hell I didn’t really matter. I looked fucking amazing regardless. I didn’t even need to flex to look hotter than any bodybuilder I’d even seen. It was all simply unbelievable. I was just about to leave the room when my wide shoulder brushed up against an drawer she’d left open. As I turned to close it I noticed a collection of rings, all with similar markings to the bracelet she’d given me before my transformation. Out of character, I took 6 of the rings, throwing them in the inner pocket of my vest. I had no idea what they did, but they seemed to call to me. Walking to the front of the store, Janice, she finally told me her name, handed me a large bag full of clothes with a warm smile. “These should get you started, I keep things in all sizes for my customers. All the essentials plus there are a few surprises in their too. If you need anything else come back to see me, I will be here next Halloween weekend as well. I hope you will be happy for now.” “How could I not be happy?” I replied smiling and pulsing my big pecs, “this is what I’ve always dreamed of. I never thought I’d be so happy to have gone costume shopping.” She gave a slight bow and I headed out of the store. Finally I was on my way to the party, preparing for what was bound to be the greatest nights of my life... ******************************* All I can say is, Thank God I had a Wrangler. I never would have fit in a normal car. As it was my 335lbs were feeling cramped as I pulled into the parking lot about 40 minutes after the official start of the party. I would be walking in late and, hopefully, all eyes would be on me for my BIG entrance. After flexing in the reflection of the windows one more time, I buckled my toy sword (man did this thing looks small now) and headed into the reception hall. The first person I walked into, literally since she was so small compared to my now gigantic form, was Amanda. My boss was dressed up as cat-women, and I have to admit she pulled off the tight leather outfit well, filling it out in all the right places. Her appreciation for my costume my obvious, because her mouth dropped open as she bounced off my line-backer sized pectorals. “Holy Shit Mark, is that you? Are these for real?” She said, placing her tiny hand on one of my thick pecs. I bounced and flexed it for her approval, watching as she licked her lips in unadulterated lust. “I had no idea you had that hiding under your work clothes! You are certainly going to be a hit with that costume! How about we get you a drink?” She asked. I just smiled down at her as she wrapped her arm around my colossal bicep, noticing how her small her hand looked in comparison to my strong bicep. Our trip to the bar took forever, mostly because Amanda insisted on taking me around the party and showing me off. I quickly realized she was trying to make it seem like we had more of a connection than we truly did, but to be honest I really didn’t care. I simply smiled, flexed, and enjoyed the endless stream of compliments on my “costume” and body. Nearly everyone asked to feel my flexed bicep, chest, or abs. I was all to happy to oblige. I’d never had any muscles to speak of, let alone flex. I’d only been at the party for 30 minutes and already was the star of the evening. I’d had nearly a dozen numbers slipped to me when I realized I really needed that drink. Finally, after reassuring my new fan club would return, I broke free to get to the bar. It was great watching the crowd part for me as I walked, and seeing the eyes move across my pumped torso to inevitably land on my packed crotch. This was going to be one hell of a party! When I, got to the bar my night took a whole new turn; that’s where I met Chris. Chris had been one of the first people I’d noticed at work, and one of the few in the office that morning. Not only did he have a beautiful smile, but his well-tailored suit accentuated what was clearly a fantastic body. Now I saw just how good a body it was! Chris was wearing a small leather gladiator skirt, a sword buckled across his beautiful chest, and some leather sandals. Combined with his Italian skin, thick black hair and piercing blue eyes made him a real stunner. Not even one of the digitally enhanced guys from 300 could have held a candle to him; He must have been 250 lbs of solid gorgeous muscleman! Confident in my new body, I walked right up to the bar next to him. Chris spilled his drink as my massive framed filled his field of vision. Clearly he wasn’t used to having someone bigger than him around. To intimidate him a bit, I placed my significantly larger arm on the bar next to him. Flexing slightly, I ordered a scotch on the rocks. He was staring at me this whole time in awe, so while I waited for my drink I turned to him with a smile. That’s when I noticed it. Right around his left-wrist was a tiny intricate tattoo. Yep, nearly identical to the one I had early that day. Now things were really getting interesting. “Chris,” I said in my deepest rumble, “My names Mark, I’m the new guy.” He just gulped in response as my hand engulfed his during our handshake. “Love the costume, Janice pick it out?” The look of shock on his face was priceless, although he quickly covered it with that handsome smile, “Yeah, she uhhh... helped me out two Halloween’s ago when I first moved here. I’ve been, well...enjoying it ever since. You obviously went with a larger costume?” “Well I have to tell you,” I said leaning close, “I didn’t plan on it, but I’m certainly loving the results,” I flexed my massive bicep in his face, letting him take in all 24 perfect inches of it. “What do you think?” He leaned in close, practically whispering to me, “I think you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I also think that if I don’t get what’s left of those pants off you soon I’m going to rip them off in the middle of this room.” My deep rumble of a laugh made heads turn. Never before had I thought I would be proposition like this at any bar. And to have it happen over my Halloween “costume” and by one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen, yeah never! “Well we wouldn’t you to have to do that, might start a riot.” I rumbled with a sly smile. “Then how about we solve both our problem’s? Meet me upstairs in conference room 3C. Five minutes, don’t be late.” With that Chris speed off through the crowd and disappeared out the doors. ****************************** What a day of firsts. I’d started a new job like any normal person. Then I’d grown an extra 200+ pounds and 4 inches of absolutely astounding muscles, had someone beg me to fuck them at Starbucks, become the center of attention at a party, been propositioned at a bar, and now I was fucking an insanely gorgeous muscle-stud on my company’s conference room table with my 16” cock. Chris, the fuckee in this case, was loving every second of it. He couldn’t get enough of my size and my strength. I’d been lifting the conference table and flexing every muscle for him, all while he jerked himself off and licked every inch of my god-like body. Eventually, like Daniel, he started to beg me to fuck him. I easily lifted him up and placed him on my 16” cock, his augmented ass sliding perfectly around it. He went wild at my show of power, wrapping his thick legs around my powerful body. Soon both of us were lost in ecstasy as I fucked him on the conference table. He licked/rubbed/squeezed/tweaked every part of my superior body. I don’t know how much time passed while we fucked. But as I unloaded my third incredible orgasm inside Chris’ beautiful ass I heard a gasp. Amanda, my boss, was standing there staring at me. She watched with a slack jaw while Chris moaned with the removal of my huge hard cock out of his overloaded ass. Flicking a drop of cum from my still rock-hard cock, I smiled at her and waved. “There is plenty of me to go around. Ready for a ride pussy-cat?” This was going to be the best Halloween ever. ***********************************

English version in here. UNO Mis padres siempre me educaron en la cultura del esfuerzo, por lo que a ninguno de mis amigos les sorprendió que a los veinticinco años me comprara mi departamento. Había trabajado mucho para conseguir la plata suficiente, haciendo horas extras, trabajando freelance los fines de semana y ahorrando todo lo que podía y gastando lo menos posible. Pedí un préstamo a un banco y eso fue todo. Me mudé apenas me dieron la llave y durante seis meses disfruté de la soledad y me relajé. Pasado ese tiempo decidí que lo mismo que había hecho para conseguir la mitad del departamento lo podía hacer para conseguir la otra mitad y para eso no iba a escatimar en nada. Si volvía a tomar trabajos freelance, un poco de horas extras y alquilaba una de las habitaciones que me quedaba libre, entonces no tardaría en juntar todo el dinero que necesitaba. Así fue como le comenté a mis amigos que tenía una habitación disponible para alquilar. A varios amigos les interesó pero ninguno tenía suficiente dinero para pagar el lugar, no era que yo cobrase demasiado, lo que pasaba era que ninguno tenía un trabajo que todavía les permitiera vivir solos. Los días pasaron y una mañana me llegó un mensaje de Fran: -¡Hey, me enteré que estas alquilando un cuarto y yo necesito irme de la casa de mis viejos! ¿Quien era Fran? Habíamos sido compañeros en mi trabajo anterior donde yo era desarrollador y él tester. Era un pibe jodón con quien siempre nos hacíamos bromas. No podría decir que fuese lindo, quizás si agarrabas tan solo su cara no dirías eso, pero había algo en la manera de ser que resultaba seductor, sumado a que tenía un cuerpo… ¿que digo? Un pecho enorme. No era lo que se dice musculoso, tan solo tenía las proporciones perfectas, hacía mucho deporte y le gustaba cuidarse. Practicaba lucha libre y eso debía mantenerlo bastante entrenado. Él siempre supo que a mi me gustaban los hombres, pero nunca le importó. Tenía bastante claro que le gustaban las mujeres por lo que siempre le pellizcaba el culo a alguno para molestarlo, ¡incluso a mí!. En él era tan normal como darte una palmada. Sin embargo todo lo confiado que era con los hombres, con las mujeres se desvanecía. Simplemente cuando una chica le gustaba demasiado apenas podía hablarle. Recuerdo también que muchas de las chicas “que no le gustaban” estaban tan calientes por él como yo y más de una le chupó la pija en el baño de alguna fiesta. La idea de vivir con Fran me excitó desde el primer momento. Me lo imaginaba desnudo en el baño de mi casa y la sola idea ya me servía para acabar. A la semana siguiente dejó caer su bolso en el cuarto vacío y se instaló en casa. Al principio las cosas fueron bastante normales. Ambos desayunábamos juntos y después cada uno se iba al trabajo. Yo volvía por la tarde y disfrutaba de unas horas solo para trabajar hasta que caía la noche y él llegaba. Los mejores momentos era cuando andaba por la casa solo en calzoncillos. Tenía un pecho enorme, tal cual yo recordaba, marcado y ancho. Fran me sacaba una cabeza por lo que si nos cruzábamos en el baño yo tenía la imagen perfecta de sus músculos. —¡Cuidado, enanin! —me decía cuando nos cruzábamos de esa forma y lo decía para molestarme pero a mi me excitaba. Fran necesitaba ahorrar plata pero a diferencia mía no tenía voluntad para trabajar y no gastar. Salía con amigos y se gastaba demasiada plata en cada salida. No me sorprendía que no lograse ahorrar dinero. Según me enteré por un amigo en común solía pagar para tener sexo y al parecer necesitaba tener demasiado sexo por semana. Otra cosa que hacía con ese hermoso cuerpo que tenía era lucha libre por lo que tenía esos trajes ridiculos de spandex que le quedaban de maravilla. Resaltaban sus anchos hombros, su pecho y su pija. Me lo imaginaba luchando con esa ropa con algún otro hombre vestido igual y la idea me alcanzaba para toda la noche. Las cosas comenzaron a cambiar una tarde que vino enojado de entrenar. El entrenador le había dicho que necesitaba ganar peso para competir en el torneo. —¿Cuanto tenés que ganar? —le pregunté. —Tengo que pesar 80 kilos —me respondió. No me parecía tanto y se lo dije. —¡Diez kilos de músculo! —me dijo como si fuera algo obvio— ¡Vos porque nunca ganaste ni un kilo en tu vida! ¡Apuesto que no levantás ni cinco kilos en el gimnasio! Para ganar tanto músculo tendría que comer muchisima carne, ¡con lo caro que sale!, tomar suplementos que son carísimos y además ir a un nutricionista. ¡No puedo pagar todo eso!. Más allá de que la idea de que se volviera más musculoso me excitaba y no tardé ni diez segundos en imaginarme una versión de Fran más fuerte y musculosa… con el pecho enorme y los brazos abultados… también era verdad que lo quería ayudar, al menos a que aprendiera a ser riguroso para conseguir lo que quería. Entonces le ofrecí que si durante un mes el podía enfocar todos sus esfuerzos en este desafío y usar la plata solo para sus objetivos entonces yo lo ayudaría. ¿Como? Durante un mes no le cobraría alquiler. —¿En serio? —me preguntó. —Pero solo si veo que te lo tomas en serio. —¡Obvio! ¡Ya vas a ver! ¡Me voy a volver una bestia! No sé si fueron mis palabras o las ganas que tenía de entrar al torneo pero algo en su actitud cambió de la noche a la mañana. Dejó de salir con amigos y se anotó todos los días en el gimnasio. Nuestra cocina se llenó de suplementos y la heladera de carne, pollo, verduras y otras cosas de las que ni siquiera sabía el nombre. Todos los días después del trabajo se iba a entrenar y llegaba para comer. Ahora él cocinaba para ambos y comía unas cantidades impresionantes de carne y carbohidratos. Tomaba sus suplementos de forma rigurosa y se iba a dormir para descansar lo suficiente. En pocos días noté la diferencia. Cuando salía de bañarse podía ver los cambios. Músculos sobre músculos se le marcaban en la espalda que de pronto había crecido unos cuantos centímetros. Sus hombros se volvieron más redondos y su pecho se marcó como si de pronto quisiera salirse de su cuerpo. Sus brazos se volvieron más grandes y sus piernas comenzaron a convertirse en jamones. Lo que también comenzó a suceder es que se tomaba duchas mas largas, después de las cuales siempre decía con una sonrisa y guiñándome un ojo: —Hay que atender a la bestia —y se rascaba la pija debajo de la toalla. Y así como él se masturbaba todos los días yo hacía lo mismo después… imaginando su cuerpo, sus músculos duros y fuertes y sobre todo su enorme pecho mientras crecía. El mes pasó pronto y una mañana me dijo: —Gané 5 kilos. ¿5 kilos? ¡Parecía como si hubiera ganado 20! Todos sus músculos se habían vuelto más grandes. —Lo que pasa es que perdí algo de grasa y gané más masa muscular. Y para remarcar su punto flexionó su brazo. Era enorme. —¡Felicitaciones! ¡Yo sabía que podrías hacerlo! Pero en lugar de sonreír se puso serio y me dijo: —¿Doble o nada? —¿Eh? —Doble o nada. Hacemos otro mes igual a este y si no llego a ganar otros cinco kilos te devuelvo toda la plata… —¿… y si lo lográs? Se quedó pensando durante unos segundos. —No te pago el alquiler por dos meses más… Más allá de que la diferencia de recibir o no el alquiler era importante, la idea de verlo crecer más aún me estaba calentando. —¡Trato hecho!—dije y le estreché la mano que me ofrecía. Fran apretó con fuerza. El mes siguiente fue una locura. Por alguna razón que desconozco Fran dejó de usar remeras de un día para otro. Todos los días veía sus enormes músculos pasearse por toda mi casa. Sus piernas todas marcadas, sus abdominales y su enorme pecho (cada día más grande). Cada día cocinaba cantidades más grandes de comida que comía frente a mi solo en calzones. Cuando terminaba se golpeaba la panza y sonreía. Era como verlo inflarse delante mío. Sus duchas eran interminables, era demasiado obvio que se estaba masturbando como loco. Y yo después de él, pensando en él y en lo enorme que se estaba volviendo. La noche anterior a que terminara el mes trajo una balanza. —Mañana es el gran día —dijo y se fue a dormir. A la mañana siguiente cuando me levanté ya había hecho el desayuno. Se estaba levantando incluso más temprano que yo. Solo llevaba puesto unos calzones calvin klein que le marcaban la pija… —¿Lees? —me dijo parado sobre la balanza. —92 kilos —¡Ja! —dijo y se bajó de la balanza flexionando ambos brazos— ¡Soy una bestia! Dicho eso se puso a comer. Yo todavía no entendía que había pasado, estaba demasiado dormido. Tardé unos segundos en hacer las cuentas, había ganado más de 5 kilo, ¿no? Los dos meses siguientes que había ganado para vivir gratis fueron más de lo mismo. E incluso llegué a creer que se había vuelto loco, era una persona totalmente diferente. Estaba obsesionado con las cantidad de la comida, con las horas de sueño, con las cantidades de pesos de cada ejercicio. Pero todo eso parecía estar dando resultado ya que crecía cada día más y no solo sus músculos eran mas grandes, estaba creciendo en altura. Una noche que salió de la ducha vi como su pelo rozaba el marco de la puerta. Pero no solo eso, sus hombros también. Se tuvo que comprar ropa nueva porque la anterior ya no le entraba. Sus brazos eran demasiado gruesos y su pecho parecía ser el doble que antes. Cuando los dos meses que había ganado gratis se terminaron algo cambió de repente. La semana siguiente usó remera todos los días. Yo me había acostumbrado a ver su impresionante cuerpo lleno de músculos pasearse por casa… ese enorme pecho al que imaginaba todo el tiempo creciendo cada vez más… Al quinto día le dije: —¿Che, Fran, pasa algo? —¿Por? —me preguntó él levantando la cara del plato de comida. —No sé… digo… estás como raro… —¿Yo? ¿Por? —No sé… digo… —jamás podría decir lo que pensaba… ni siquiera sabía lo que estaba pensando… Ahi Fran sonrió. —¿Me estás preguntando porque no ando más sin remera? —¡¿Que?! ¡No, obvio que no! —¿Entonces? —No nada… dejá… Esa noche se sentó frente a mi con su enorme plato de comida y me dijo serio. —Okey, necesito plata… Lo miré sin entender. —Con lo que gano no me alcanza y necesito plata. —¿Y que vas a hacer? Me miró serio, corrió el plato de comida y me dijo: —Quiero hacer un… trato… —¿Un trato? —Si… —¿Que clase de trato? —Bueno… ¿viste… viste como yo…? Lo miré esperando su respuesta. —¿Alguna vez pagaste por ver a alguien? —¿Eh? ¿De qué estás hablando? —¡Dale, chabon! ¡Ya sabés de lo que te estoy hablando! ¡Un stripclub! —Fran, no te sigo… pero no, nunca fui a uno de esos lugares. —Bueno, es un lugar donde uno paga por ver a minas… o tipos… bailar desnudas… desnudos… Lo miré sin poder creer lo que me estaba diciendo. Debajo de la mesa la pija se me puso dura en un segundo. —¿Me estás diciendo que te pague por verte desnudo? —Algo asi… —dijo sonriendo. —¡¿QUE?! —por dentro mi corazón estaba saltando de alegría pero al mismo tiempo no entendía que estaba pasando. —¡No pienses cualquier cosa! ¡Pensalo como un… win win…! Yo necesito plata… y vos… y a vos te gustan los tipos… digo… dado que a mi me gustan las minas con tetas bien grandes me imaginé que a vos quizás te gustaban los tipos… musculosos y fuertes… como yo… —¿Estás loco? —¡NO! Pensalo así…es como que me auspiciarías… me darías una mano… y yo a cambio te dejo ver mi cuerpo… mis músculos… ¡daaaale! ¡No me vas a decir que te dan ganas de ver el lomo que tengo! —… —Imaginate esto… vuelvo de entrenar a casa… y estoy todo duro… tengo todos los músculos enormes… tan duros que apenas puedo bajar los brazos…. ¿no te ganas ganas de ver lo fuerte que me estoy poniendo? —Estás loco… —dije y me levanté y me fui a dormir. Esa noche apenas pude dormir y me masturbé 5 veces antes de que sonara el despertador. Me levanté destruido. Fran comía el desayuno. Me senté frente a él intentando despertarme. —No dormiste nada, ¿no? —No… —¿Cuantas veces te pajeaste? —Cinco… —¡¿Cinco?! ¡Ja! ¡Zarpado! ¿Tanto te excita mi cuerpo? Dije si con la cabeza. —¡Que chabon! Y pregunté pensar dije: —¿Por cuanto tiempo? Fran me miró y sonrió. —Lo que vos digas. —Okey… vamos a probar con un mes y vemos. Se levantó y se acercó a mi silla. Me levantó como si no pesara nada y me abrazó apretándome contra su pecho. Después me soltó y sin esperar un minuto se sacó la remera con el movimiento más impresionante que vi en mi vida. Con ambos brazos agarró la parte de abajo y como si levantara una bandera se sacó la remera. Sus abdominales perfectos aparecieron uno encima de otro y después su pecho enorme… fuerte… —¡Vas a ver! —me dijo mientras flexionaba ambos brazos—¡Vas a disfrutar cada día de ver el lomo que tengo! ¡Me voy a poner enorme! Me voy a volver el hombre más musculoso que viste en tu puta vida y me voy a pasear delante tuyo para que lo veas. Me despeinó con una mano y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese mes fue una locura. Fran crecía como una bestia. Todos los días lo veía más y más grande y ya no solo se paseaba sin remera, sino que cada tanto flexionaba ambos brazos y me decía: —¿Y? ¿Que tal mis músculos? ¿Te gusta lo que estás viendo? ¡Me estoy poniendo enorme! Yo me quedaba mudo, viendo el tamaño imposible de su pecho. ¡Así tenía que ser el pecho de un hombre! A fin de mes no solo pesaba casi 100 kilos sino que además me sacaba dos cabezas. Cuando nos cruzábamos en el baño me decía cosas como: —¿Que tal la vista desde ahí abajo, putito? ¿Estoy demasiado grande? ¿Cuantas veces vas a pajearte hoy después de verme en bolas? —y flexionaba su pecho enorme y fuerte— Apuesto que tengo el pecho más grandes que viste en tu puta vida. En el gimnasio no hay nadie que tenga unas tetas como yo —dijo y mientras se masajeaba el pecho con una mano— No te das una idea la fuerza que tengo en mis pectorales, te apuesto a que puedo levantar más de diez veces tu peso. Cuando termino de entrenar tengo el pecho tan duro que apenas me puedo poner la remera. ¿Te acordas el traje de lucha que usaba cuando me vine a vivir acá? ¿Te imaginás como me quedaría ahora con estos músculos? ¿Te gustaría que me lo pusiera? Sin pensarlo dije que si… —¡jaja! Que puto que sos… Esa noche me masturbé sin parar hasta que me dolió la pija. Cuando llegó el mes siguiente le dije: —¿Como seguimos? Yo solo quería verlo sin remera… cada día más grande y musculoso… lo imaginaba teniendo que agacharse para pasar por la puerta. —Hagamos esto… ¿Que te parece si hacemos un arreglo por peso? —¿Por peso? —¡Claro! En lugar de que yo no te pague el alquiler… vos me pagas por kilo… —¿Por kilo? —Es así, ya hice las cuentas… vos ahora me estás “dando” esta plata que es igual al total del alquiler… ¿no? Si dividimos este numero por mi peso… da esto... ¿me seguís? Entonces pensé que quizás podemos bajar un poco el precio por kilo… de ese modo yo tendría que ganar aproximadamente… mmm… veinte kilos más para seguir sin pagar… ¿se entiende? Agarré la hoja donde había hecho todos los cálculos y la miré mientras pensaba: ¿20 kilos más de músculo? Fran ya era enorme, o sea podía aparecer en cualquier portada de cualquier revista de deporte. ¿Podía ganar más músculo? —De esa manera me estimulo a crecer y vos… podes verlo… ¿que te parece? —dijo y me guiñó el ojo— ¿Te imaginás lo que va a ser mi cuerpo con 20 kilos mas? Lo que pasó ese mes cambió todo. Yo había imaginado que Fran seguiría creciendo como venía haciendo hasta entonces… quizás un poco más lento, pero que todo sería mas o menos igual. Estaba muy equivocado. Ahi fui cuando vi lo que podían hacer los anabólicos. Al términar la primer semana fue como si de repente hubiera inflado todos sus músculos y los mantuviera todo el tiempo en tensión. Fue como si sus músculos adquirieran otra calidad, otra fuerza. Al principio no me imaginé lo que estaba pasando, pero algunas cosas me empezaron a llamar la atención. Poco a poco estaba más agresivo… —Mirá puto, mirá el tamaño de mis brazo —me decía y flexionaba sus brazos para después mirarme sobre su pecho como si mirara una basura— Así tiene que ser el cuerpo de un hombre…no esa mierdita enana que sos vos A veces se me acercaba demasiado y “sin querer” me empujaba: —Uh, disculpá putito, no te ví ahi abajo. A veces no me doy cuenta lo enorme que estoy. O a veces tan solo me decía: —¿Y? ¿Te está gustando lo que ves? ¿Que sentís al verme sin remera? ¿Te calienta mi pecho musculoso? No te das una idea lo fuerte que estoy. En el gimnasio estoy levantando como un toro. Después de cada una de esas frases yo solo podía encerrarme en mi cuarto a masturbarme. Una mañana de sábado recuerdo que me levanté temprano, fui a la cocina y me preparé el desayuno. Primero escuché la puerta de su cuarto abrirse y después los pasos de oso que daba Fran al caminar. Yo estaba preparándome el café cuando sentí su sombra enorme pasar por encima mío. Sin decir nada abrió la heladera y la volvió a cerrar. Cuando lo miré estaba tomando leche directamente del cartón. Solo tenía puestos unos calzoncillos que dejaban a la vista la enorme pija que todavía estaba un poco parada. Su cuerpo era una montaña de músculos. Sus piernas apretaban contra la tela del calzón pero su cintura era del tamaño justo, solo si seguías subiendo su cuerpo se ensanchaba hasta ser casi del tamaño de una puerta doble. Un pecho impresionante todo musculoso coronaba los abdominales marcados y a ambos lados unos hombros gigantescos con unos brazos abultados llenos de venas. Un poco de leche le cayó sobre el pecho y dibujó un río entre los pectorales gigantescos. Entonces me di cuenta que Fran me miraba. Me guiñó un ojo y tuve que irme despacio al baño y masturbarme con la imagen de su cuerpo desnudo y duro tomando leche. El último día del mes, después de desayunar, dijo: —Veni, putito. Vamos a pesarme. Se paró sobre la balanza pero ni siquiera se asomó sobre su pecho para mirar. —¿Que dice? Me agaché para ver. —125 kilos… —jaja… te dije… Yo no lo podía creer. O sea, se notaba la diferencia. Fran estaba enorme, una montaña de músculos todos marcados, uno sobre otros. —Me debes esto —me dijo mostrándome un papel con una cuenta. —¡¿Que?! —Es lo que habíamos arreglado… el arreglo era por kilo y ¿ves como acá dice que si pesaba 120 me pagabas exactamente lo mismo que el alquiler? Bueno, ahora peso 5 kilos mas que eso. Por lo que me debes esta plata. No es mucho… Yo no lo podía creer y me lo quedé mirando con la boca abierta. —¿Que pasa? ¿No me querés pagar? Su cara cambió de repente. Dio un paso hacia adelante y yo uno hacia atrás. Estaba contra la pared. —Te das cuenta que no es muy buena idea no querer pagarle a un hombre de 125 kilos, ¿no? Mirá el lomo que tengo… ¿Sabés lo que puedo hacerte con estos músculos? Eso bastó para que saliera corriendo a buscar mi billetera. Traje la plata y la puse sobre la mesa. Él la miró todavía enojado y en un segundo cambió la expresión. Con una sonrisa dijo: —Te estaba boludeando, enano. Quedátela, estos cinco kilos de músculo van por mi cuenta. Disfrutalos —dijo e hizo su pecho subir y bajar— Seguimos entonces con el mismo arreglo… ¿te parece? Solo que esta vez aclaramos que sin importar cuanto peso gane no me tenés que dar plata vos. ¿Te parece? Yo todavía estaba temblando. Dije si. —Pero si te parece podemos agregar esta otra hoja. Y me pasó una hoja con precios. Me miró con una sonrisa. La miré sin entender nada. —Te lo explico… esto que vez acá es el precio por tocar… y esto que vez acá es el grupo muscular. Por ejemplo si me querés tocar el pecho durante un minuto sale tanto… ¿se entiende? Mi cabeza de pronto se había detenido. —¿Que pasa? ¿Te lo tengo que explicar? ¡Es fácil, enano! La idea es que me pagues por tocarme. ¿O me decís que no te dan ganas de tocar estos músculos? Mírame el pecho… bueno, sale esto. Se paró y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese día llamé a la oficina diciendo que estaba enfermo. Me masturbé hasta que pensé que me moría. Después dormí y cuando faltaba poco para que Fran volviera a casa me fui a caminar. Mi cabeza no paraba de dar vueltas, nunca me había pasado algo como eso. Simplemente estaba perdido…. era una locura… O sea, era mucha guita. La verdad… ¿que estaba pensando? ¡No iba a pagar por tocarlo! ¡Era ridículo! Cuando volví a casa él estaba terminando de comer. Puse la plata en la mesa y respiré hondo. Fran sonrió, se limpió la boca con la mano, corrió la silla, abrió las piernas y mirándose el pecho con una sonrisa perversa dijo: —Todo tuyo. Incluso sentado me sacaba una cabeza. Yo era un enanito frente a un gigante musculoso. Me acerqué temblando y apoyé ambas manos sobre su enorme pecho. Era mucho más duro y suave de lo que había imaginado. Era impresionante, casi tan grande como mis dos almohadas. Era pesado y cada vez que lo levantaba caía de nuevo. De pronto lo puso duro y fue como si se volviera una roca. Comencé a masajearlo… —¿Te gusta enano? ¿Te gusta tocar mi pecho? ¡Así es un pecho de hombre! Salí corriendo y me encerré en el baño un segundo antes de acabar. No había llegado ni a tocarlo durante un minuto. Se imaginan como siguió todo. Bueno, yo no… nunca pensé que me podría pasar algo como esto. Cada día que llegaba a casa me decía a mi mismo que no iba a pagar más… que esperaría hasta la próxima semana… o bueno, hasta dentro de tres días… aguantaría hasta mañana… Cada día pagaba por tocarlo. Y cada día pasaba lo mismo. —¿Te gustan mis brazos? —decía y los flexionaba mientras yo lo tocaba— Apretá fuerte, dale. ¡Apretá como hombre! Ja, imagínate la fuerza que tengo que ni siquiera podes apretar un centímetro… ¡Dale apretá con fuerza, putito! ¡Mirá las manos de enano que tenés sobre mis enormes músculos! Lo toqué todo y cuando lo toqué todo varias veces trajo una nueva hoja con “promos”. “Cuerpo completo” o “después de entrenar” o “en pose”. Las probé todas… y al final del mes me di cuenta que había gastado todo mi sueldo. No podía creerlo, pero al mismo tiempo no podía parar… Al día siguiente fue Fran el que dijo: —Ahora no puedo, mañana. Se puso una remera sobre sus enormes músculos y salió. Esa noche no pude dormir y tuve que masturbarme de nuevo hasta que me doliera todo. A la madrugada lo escuché volver, pero no estaba solo. —Shhhh, no hagas ruido que mi amigo está durmiendo… —dijo en voz baja. A los cinco minutos la mina empezó a gritar mientras él se la cogía en su cuarto. Intenté masturbarme de nuevo pero solo logré que me salieran lágrimas de los ojos. Fran empezó a traer mujeres casi todas las noches. Algunas tuve que conocerlas ya que me las cruzaba en la cena y otras tan solo las escuché gritar… una… dos…. tres… cuatro… cinco veces… Fran estaba cogiendo por todo lo que antes no había cogido. De seguro estaba aprovechando toda la plata que yo le había dado por tocarlo para pagar por esas mujeres… porque no había duda de que eran putas… o sea… eran mujeres demasiado impresionantes como para no serlo… Una mañana después de que desayunásemos Fran, yo y una de ellas y de que ella se fuera sin siquiera saludarme le pregunté: —¿Cuanto te cobra? Fran me miró sonriendo. Su cuerpo estaba inmenso. Hacía varias semanas que no tocaba esos músculos y solo podía imaginar lo duros que estaban ahora. Estiró los brazos dejándome ver el tamaño de sus músculos. Estaba inmenso, nunca había visto un hombre tan grande. Dejó escapar una risa. —Ya no pago… —No entiendo… –Yo no soy el que paga… Lo miré sin entender. Se puso de pie para ir a su cuarto… su espalda era una montaña de músculos haciendo un trabajo perfecto. Cuando volvió traía un cajón. Adentro estaba lleno de fajos de billetes. —Son ellas las que pagan. —¡¿Que….?! ¿Me estás jodiendo? ¿Cuanto…? —¡ja! ¿Que pasa? ¿Querés saber cuanto cuesta que te coja esta montaña de músculos? —dijo y su pecho subió y bajó para después flexionar sus brazos… ¡Dios mío, eran enormes! Me quedé mudo. —Jaja, que puto que sos… Acá está el precio. Era imposible que alguien pagara… que una mina pagara… era mucho… ¿aceptaría tarjeta? ¿También era para tipos? —Vení que te muestro —me dijo y casi se me paró el corazón. Pero no fue lo que yo imaginaba. Se sentó en el sillón y prendió la notebook. Me senté a lado. Apoyó la notebook en la mesita y le dio play al video. Se dejó caer contra el respaldo y pasó la mano por arriba mío, me apretó contra su cuerpo —mi cachete apretado por su pecho— y dijo: —Vas a ver todo el show. La mina estaba en cuatro sobre la cama moviéndose hacia atrás y hacia adelante. Estaba filmado con el celular. Fran lo levantó y filmó el cuerpo de ella desde arriba y después se filmó a él. Todos sus músculos enormes y transpirados brillaban por la poca luz del cuarto. Era un compilado en el que se cogía a una mina tras otra. Algunas de parado. Otras contra la pared, otras las aplastaba bajo sus músculos. Era una locura…. pero lo que era una locura era el tamaño de su pija. Era imposiblemente grande. Fue entonces que puso su enorme mano sobre mi pantalón y empezó a acariciarme. —Mejor sin esto —dijo y me sacó el pantalón en un segundo. Mi pija estaba parada debajo de calzóncillo…. parada es una forma de decir… nunca tuve una pija grande… bueno, okey… la tengo bastante chica… Fran ahogó una risa y me empezó a masturbar con dos dedos. Cada dedo suyo era mas grande que mi pija. —Es como un pescadito —me dijo con tono de burla— ¿No se te pone dura? La verdad era que no se me ponía nunca muy dura… Estaba por decir algo cuando vi lo que estaba pasando en su pantalón. Era como si hubiera metido dos bananas… tres bananas en su bolsillo. —¿Querés ver una pija en serio? —dijo y con su otra mano llevó la mía hasta tocar su pija. Acabé en un segundo. —¡Uhhgg! ¡Boludo! —dijo y se limpió el semen en mi remera—. ¡Que chabon! Vení… encárgate vos de esta… Y se sacó el pantalón. La pija más grande que vi en mi vida se paró delante de mis ojos. —Tan grande como el resto de mis músculos… —dijo bromeando mientras me miraba y miraba su pija gigantesca—¿Y? ¿No vas a hacer nada? Con la mano temblando le agarré la pija. Era tan grande y estaba tan dura que no podía cerrar la mano. —Con las dos —me dijo. Y lo agarré rápido con la otra. Apoyó la cabeza contra el respaldo y se echó para atrás. —Mas fuerte. Su pija era mas grande que mi brazo extendido, era simplemente enorme y no pude imaginar quien podría aguantar… que mina podría soportar que se le cogieran con una pija tan grande. —Mas fuerte, enano. Todo su cuerpo estaba cubierto de músculos enormes, duros y brillantes. Incluso desnudo era como si tuviera una armadura puesta y su pija era una espada… un cañón. —Más fuerte… ¡dale! Estaba apretando con todas mis fuerzas, pero él apenas lo sentía. Se puso de pie y me levantó con una mano. Me cargó hasta el baño, prendió la luz y se paró frente al espejo. Todo su cuerpo musculoso brillando bajo la luz del baño. Me sentó en su pija y me dijo: —Hace como si fuera tu pija… ¡Dale! Me agarré para no caerme. —Imaginate que te creció una pija enorme de repente… ¡Dale! Imagínate que te podes a coger a todas las minas… que todas se mueren por chuparte la pija… por tocarte los músculos —y mientras decía eso flexionaba ambos brazos— que sos el hombre más musculoso del mundo, más fuerte que un toro y más duro que un tanque. Imagínate que empezás a ganar guita porque todos quieren tocarte los músculos y vos solo creces y creces y tenés una fuerza de la puta madre y estás todo duro y podes garchar por horas y horas y acabar una y otra vez. Ahhh… soy enorme. Mirá el lomo que tengo, putito. Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos. Soy una bestia… ¿sabes lo que hacen las bestias como yo? Cogen… Me bajó de su pija y me dejó en el piso frente a él con su pija apuntando a mi cara. Era el gigante musculoso más grande que había visto en mi puta vida. —Mirá putito… mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… imaginate lo que te haría si te garchara con esta pija… te rompería el culo… no podrías volver a sentarte en tu puta vida… ¿querés probarla? Apuesto a que me querés chupar toda la pija… —Si… —Jajaja, que puto que sos… está bien, esta corre por mi cuenta. Y con una mano en mi cabeza me sostuvo mientras me acercaba la pija. Era enorme, era demasiado grande, imposible que me entrara en la boca. —Abrí grande… jaja, te voy a romper la boca, boludo… soy enorme… Yo respiraba por la nariz intentando no ahogarme… —¿Que pasa, enano? ¿La tengo muy grande? Eso te pasa por querer chuparle la pija a un gigante como yo. ahhhh… Te rompería la boca solo porque sos un puto de mierda… Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… Esto es un hombre… No esa mierda enana que sos vos… Mirá mis brazos… Mirá lo fuerte que estoy… Esto es un hombre… ¿Me escuchaste, putito? ¡Abrí la boca o te la rompo con mi poronga! Apuesto a que te morís de ganas de tocarme los músculos… No podes pagarlo enano. Estoy demasiado grande, demasiado duro, soy demasiado fuerte. Y ni bien acabó me atraganté y todo se volvió blanco y después negro… A la semana siguiente Fran había renunciado a su trabajo. Cuando yo regresaba de la oficina (lo más rápido que podía) encontraba el tacho de basura lleno de preservativos gigantes y ropa rota de mujer. Fran se había convertido en un prostituto… Con la guita que ganaba empezó a comprarse ropa de marca, perfumes, computadoras, celulares, todas cosas carísimas y para coronarlo se compró una camioneta tan enorme como él. Estaba cobrando tanta plata que me regalaba guita: —Comprate algo, putito. Pero yo solo quería pagarle… Quería tocar su enorme lomo… Ahora que yo apenas le llegaba a la cintura Fran se había convertido en un dios inmenso, fuerte y musculoso… y en mi bolsillo yo apretaba la plata que había sacado del banco. Un día encontré en el piso la hoja con los nuevos precios… Ni siquiera el sueldo de un mes me alcanzaría para tocarlo durante un minuto… Fran se había vuelto un prostituto VIP… Las mujeres que se acostaban con él eran millonarias. Mujeres que solo existían en las revistas y en la televisión. Y Fran se las cogía a todas. Tenía sus clientas regulares que lo amaban, que le tocaban el pecho y se volvían locas con su fuerza, con la enorme pija que tenía. Cuando desayunábamos juntos muchas veces alguna de ella dejaba caer un fajo de billetes sobre la mesa solo para tocarlo mientras él desayunaba. —¿Te gusta mi cuerpo, putita? —le decía él. Una noche llegó con tres mujeres. Con solo verlas se notaba que eran más grandes, quizás tendrían cuarenta años. Todas operadas, con las tetas enormes y llenas de guita, de oro por todos lados. Las llevó a su cuarto y se las empezó a coger… me di cuenta porque empezaron a gritar como locas. Pero de un segundo a otro se quedaron callados y entonces Fran entró en mi cuarto… desnudo. Era como si una montaña de músculos pasara de pronto por la puerta. Tenía todo el cuerpo brillante, cubierto de un aceite que lo hacía verse todavía más grande…. y su pija… gigantesca… parada… dura como un tronco… un mástil frente a mi que estaba acostado en mi cama… —Che, necesito que me hagas un favor… —me dijo desde arriba de sus increíbles músculos… era una bestia toda inflada— Necesito que me filmes cogiéndome a estas viejas… —¿Que? —Son clientas mias y quieren tener un video mío cogiéndomelas… Dijo eso y salió (agachándose para no destrozar la pared). Lo seguí. En su cuarto la ropa estaba tirada por todo el piso y en su cama estaban acostadas las tres mujeres, desnudas, con sus tetas inmensas, sus culos operados y con la cara y el cuerpo cubiertos de semen. —Awww que tierno tu amiguito… —dijo una. —¡Que precioso! ¿Nos vas hacer el favor? ¡Que ternura! —Queremos que lo filmes a él… y ese cuerpo musculoso que tiene cogiéndonos… Sos hermoso, Fran… Un semental… —Filmale el pecho, mirá el pecho enorme que tiene… ¡que macho! —Filmale la pija, mirá esa pija. —¡A mi primero! —gritó una y Fran se la cogió contra la pared, apretándola con sus músculos mientras ella le chupaba el pecho que la aplastaba. —Filmale la espalda, mirá esa espalda llena de músculos… mirá lo fuerte que es… —Mirá esas piernas… Dios mio… es una bestia… Y Fran se las cogió a todas dos veces y yo filmando todo. Cuando terminó se acercó a mi y yo retrocedí hasta quedar pegado contra la pared. Me sacó el celular y se puso a ver el video. Su pija parada todavía goteaba sobre mi cabeza, sus piernas musculosas y enormes me impedían cualquier movimiento. Olía a mucho sexo. Y todo el cuerpo le brillaba. —Bien filmado, putito… estoy enorme —me dijo y con una mano me despeinó me apretó contra sus piernas para luego acostarse en la cama con las tres minas. Los cuatro se pusieron a ver el video mientras ellas lo tocaban y lo besaban y mordían. —¡Gracias, precioso! –dijo una y me tiró un beso. —¡Que buen ojo! ¡Mirá como se ve todo tu cuerpo, Fran! ¡Estas enorme! ¡Mirá estos brazos! Pero una de ellas no decía nada y me miraba. Tenía los ojos grandes y una mirada que entendía las cosas. Se lamió los labios y dijo: —¿Como podemos agradecerte? —mientras le tocaba el pecho a Fran. Pasó su mano sobre esos enormes pectorales y después le agarró la pija todavía dura. —Fran, ¿como podemos pagarle a tu amigo? —¿A él? —me miró y me guiñó un ojo— Creo que ya está contento con verme coger… —¡Aw, en serio? ¿Es de “esos”? —Precioso, ¿así que te gustan los músculos de tu amigo Fran? ¿Viste lo enorme que es? ¡Mirá este pecho! ¡No hay ningún hombre con un pecho tan grande! ¡Que duro! ¡Aw, Fran, sos inmenso! —¿Fran, cuanto te debemos? —Ahi está la lista de precios —dijo él señalando la pared sin dejar de ver el video. La mujer de los ojos grandes se paró y se acercó a la pared. Leyó la lista de precios y después me miró. –Chicas… —dijo y regresó a la cama— ¿Que tal si le hacemos un regalo a nuestro amiguito? —¿Un regalo? —preguntó otra y cuando la primera le susurró al oido sonrió. —¡Un regalo bien grande y musculoso! —Aw, sí, ¿te da ganas, chiquito? ¿Querés saber lo que se siente que te coja el hombre más musculoso del mundo? Mirá el tamaño de esta pija, mirá los hombros que tiene. Mirá este pecho y estos brazos. Es un macho inmenso y coge como los dioses. —Tomá, Fran. Esto es por lo nuestro y esto es por tu amiguito… queremos un servicio completo… así disfruta de todos tus enormes músculos… Fran se puso de pie y se acercó hasta aplastarme con sus piernas. —Parece que es tu día de suerte, putito —dijo mientras se masturbaba la pija llena de semen— Vas a poder disfrutar de todo mi cuerpo… —dijo y me levantó y me sentó en la punta de su pija, pero antes me arrancó la ropa de un tirón. Sentí su pija gigantesca contra mi culo y como se mojaba todo. Su pecho me apretaba contra la pared, intenté empujarlo con mis manos pero era como empujar una pared, una montaña llena de músculos. Fran estaba todo duro y caliente. —¿Que pasa, chiquito? —dijo una de las minas. Ambas se acercaron a Fran y empezaron a tocarle las enormes piernas. —¿No querías esto? ¿No querías tocar los enormes músculos de tu amigo? Mirá lo grande que es. Aprovecha y sácate las ganas de tocarlo. Mirá el pecho que tiene. Mirá estos brazos enormes, mirá lo grandes que son sus músculos. Uh, estás re duro, Fran. Tocale el pecho, dale. —¡Que flacucho de mierda que sos! —me dijo Fran. —¿Que se siente estar sentado en la pija más grande que vas a ver en tu vida? —preguntó una de ellas. —¿Te das cuenta que te va a romper el orto? —preguntó otra. —Intentá defenderte —dijo Fran apretándome contra la pared— Dale, empujá, empujá en serio, dale putito. ¿Que pasa? ¿Estoy muy grande? ¿Soy muy fuerte? —Abrile ese culito que tiene, Fran. —Te voy a mostrar como coge un verdadero hombre. Uh como te va a gustar esto —dijo Fran flexionándo ambos brazos. —Fran, queremos que pongas toda tu fuerza en romperle bien ese culito que tiene. —Ja! —se río Fran— Lo voy a matar solo con abrirsle el culo con mi pija. La tengo demasiado grande para un culo tan chiquito —y después mirándome a mi con una mueca dijo— Dale, enano, tocame todo, sácate las ganas, toca todos mis enormes músculos. Uf, estoy enorme. —Espero que estés preparado, chiquitín —dijo una de ellas—Te va a violar un semental de 200 kilos. Y eso fue lo último que escuché, antes de que Fran me rompiera el culo con su enorme poronga.

“Nah. Still no. I don’t get it.” Harry stood with his brow furrowed in front of Jacob, clearly perplexed. Jacob sighed. He’d been ready for this, it was very complex stuff, and Harry wasn’t exactly known for his outstanding intelligence. “Ok, so first off, time isn’t a straight line. We can’t really look at time, but it’s really convoluted…” he began. Harry nodded but already seemed to be lost. “It’s complicated and it crosses over itself and collides at different points.” He drew a big squiggle on the whiteboard to illustrate his point. He gestured to where two parts of the line crossed. “Here, where time collides, is what we call a ‘junction.’” Harry continued to nod. Jacob pointed at the machine. It was essentially a computer hooked up to a helmet, covered in strange electrodes and wires. “This machine sends a signal at a frequency that should be able to pass THROUGH those junctions.” “What, so to a different time?” Harry asked. “Exactly!” Jacob said, excited that his friend was getting it. “This helmet scans your brain waves, and using a sample of your DNA, encodes the signal in a way that would only affect you, but at different points in time.” “Wait, so what, I can get messages from the future?” Harry said, seeming interested suddenly. Jacob rolled his eyes knowing he was thinking about the lottery or something. “Not exactly. Think of it like a really strong hypnosis tape. We put a prompt into the computer, and that message is sent out as a signal. It would be like having an idea soaked into your brain all through your life.” “What do you mean.” Harry said. “Well, it would just be an idea that would be reinforced, like training a dog, but… retroactively. Imagine being able to break a drug addiction by stopping it before it happened, or just changing the way you think just a little bit so you never chose to stop going to the gym or something…” he trailed off, almost revealing too much of his own desires. “Or, for instance, rewriting a lab rat’s mentality so it lost the ability to feel full.” With that he gestured to a glass enclosure which housed a morbidly obese rat, it’s little feet wiggling just enough to reach the floor and roll itself over to the food bowl. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting.” Said Harry, repulsed. “Well, it was a perfectly healthy rat last night. In fact it was a little underweight.” “Jesus. Wait, hang on, so you’re basically telling me that this machine can rewrite history?” he asked, snapping back to attention. “To a degree. It only works on the person wearing the helmet, and it can only change their thought patterns so much. If you try something too radical, the person would consciously reject the idea, and when it kept coming back they’d probably get doped up by a psychologist.” “Ok, so why are you telling me this?” “I need you to be my first human test subject.” Jacob said sheepishly. “Wait, what? And end up like Chubs over there?” Harry said, standing up quickly and pointing at the obese rat which had now rolled onto its side, struggling to get right-side up again. “No, I mean, well, yes, but we don’t need to make the prompt make you FAT, it could be anything!” Jacob said desperately trying to regain Harry’s calmness. “This is for my doctorate, and I need to be able to prove that the machine works.” “Well why don’t you do it yourself?” “I will, but I need to be sure first. I hard-coded it so that whenever my own DNA is used, a secondary prompt will always be used to implant the idea of the machine into me. That way it shouldn’t be able to cause a change that would destroy the machine and prevent me fixing anything that gets fucked up.” “Like me for instance?” said Harry, raising an eyebrow. “Well, yeah.” Jacob said. “Point is, I think it’s completely functional, and it worked on the rat. I just need a human test to make sure the prompt works with the human brain and doesn’t get muddled up somehow.” Harry thought for a while. “And I get to pick the prompt?” he asked, coyly. “Sure. That is, as long as it’s something we can clearly observe.” Harry continued to think. “Fine. But no judgement alright?” “Great! Of course not! So what do you want the prompt to be?” Jacob said, rushing to the computer’s keyboard. “Well, I’ve always been… decently fit I guess.” Started Harry, blushing. It was true, Jacob had always thought Harry had a beautiful body. He was tall and lithe. He wasn’t muscular, per se, but he had a tight swimmer’s build that looked good in everything. “Yeah, and?” “Well I only started really hitting the gym hard recently, and I feel like I sort of missed my prime for it.” “Harry, you’re 24.” “Yeah, I know, but like, if I had’ve worked out seriously through puberty, I could be pretty… hot.” “Ok, so basically you want the prompt to be something like ‘I love working out in the gym.’” Jacob said. “Yeah, that’d make a nice start.” “A start?” said Jacob, half laughing. “Well, if I can rewrite my life, you think I’m stopping after just one go?” “Ok, ok, let’s get to that when we get to it.” Jacob hammered on the keyboard, inputting parameters and the prompt; “I love working out in the gym.” “Alright, we are ready to go, and… done.” He pushed the enter key with a decisive motion. The loud clack of the key was followed by a high-pitched whirring from the computer as fans buzzed to life. Harry felt a tingling sensation in his scalp as automatic sensors wormed their way across his head. After a few minutes, the machine’s activity died down and Harry looked around expectantly. “Is that it?” he asked, sounding a bit let down. Jacob looked at the computer monitor. A blinking, green phrase on the screen read “Transmission successful.” “Yeah, it looks like it worked.” Said Jacob smiling widely. “Really?” asked Harry, looking down at himself. “I don’t feel any different. Don’t tell me this is the improved me and I just don’t remember cos my past changed.” Jacob smirked. “Well the rat took about 10 minutes to see any difference. I noticed the changes so I don’t imagine we wouldn’t notice it happen with you.” He began to finger through a small pile of notes on the machine. “The machine sends messages through junctions in the timeline, which in turn affects the present, and the future, but because we’re making a change that never happened before we basically cause a paradox.” “Can you explain that a bit, I’m not a nerd.” Said Harry, rolling his eyes for effect. “Ok, so there’s a timeline where everything happened normally, which brought you to this point where you made the decision to change your past. Since you changed your past, when you got to this point in your life there’d never be a reason to make that change since it already happened, meaning your past WOULDN’T be changed, and would happen normally.” Harry just looked confused again. “Ok, so in order for you to both make the decision, and not make the decision, you basically have two distinct pasts now. Both have to exist for the other to make any sense.” He drew on the white board again, drawing a line that split in two, and then rejoined, like a river splitting and then coming together again. “As far as I can tell, there’s no reason it shouldn’t work out just fine, in the grand scheme of things.” Jacob looked back at Harry, only to see he was barely paying attention. Harry’s hand was scratching at his chest. As Jacob watched he saw that it was less the way you would scratch an itch, and more the way you would rub a sore muscle, almost massage-like. “Something feels weird.” Said Harry. He took the helmet with all its sensors off his head and got up from the chair. “It’s like, lik- AH!” he said jerking his head back. “Like something’s moving under my skin.” Jacob got up to get a closer look. “Take your shirt off, let me see what’s happening, something could be wrong.” Harry started to pull his t-shirt upward. As it got up to his chest the material grew tight and was fighting being pulled from his skin. “Ow, Jesus, it’s so tight!” Harry protested. “I can’t get it off. As he let go of the hem, Jacob saw the problem. The material was stretched impossibly tight over Harry’s chest, because his chest was getting larger. He watched as what was once a thin, tight chest ballooned into dense, meaty pecs. Two wide, rounded lumps grew in front of Jacob’s eyes as Harry’s nipples grew from almost 2D into thick, swollen tits, and then started to push downwards as the expanding flesh above them continued to grow. There was a harsh crack, and Jacob looked up to see the collar of Harry’s t-shirt had given way. The red material was moving steadily to the sides, accompanied by a loud ripping noise as the split spread downwards. In seconds, Harry’s chest was bare. His pale chest was immense, somehow seeming even bigger now that it was uncovered. A deep crevasse ran between the two huge slabs of muscle, each with a half inch-long tit neatly sitting under it. As the rip continued downwards, Jacob’s eyes followed, and to his amazement he watches as Harry’s stomach contorted and flexed, bringing forth two, then four, then six, then eight spectacular abs. Each was big enough that Jacob could’ve fit his hand around one just barely, and they sat perfectly symmetrically down Harry’s front. The bottom of the shirt gave way, and as it fell to the sides, shredded obliques were revealed below ribs, revealed by the complete lack of body fat. Harry, still somewhat dazed, grabbed at the two sides of the shirt hanging off him and tugged. In one swift motion the sleeves of the tattered garment were obliterated, revealing still swelling delts. Each looked to be in competition with his head for size, but had deep striations that looked to go almost to the bone. Harry roared in approval, raising his arms in a double bicep pose which started unimpressively, but pure muscle rocketed down his arms, twisting into colossal football-sized biceps, and equally impressive triceps. Veins twisted and wrapped around the surface looking like a spider’s web, but as thick as a normal person’s fingers. His forearms broadened until they could be confused for a whole ham. Jacob, both enthralled by the success of the experiment, and enamoured by the changed he was seeing in front of him, reached forwards to fumble with Harry’s belt. A huge meaty paw pushed aside his smaller, fragile hand and grasped at the buckle with seemed to shatter in his grip. As his belt pulled away, his jeans started to drop to the floor, but were caught quickly as, even undone, the waistband was significantly narrower than the legs it was trying to slide past. “Oh shit!” Harry let loose, as the denim filled quickly and began to strain. Jacob had never heard a sound like the resounding splintering noise the jeans made as solid, alabaster steel burst out both sides. Harry’s legs looked freakish, they grew enormous, and the contrast with his narrow waist would have been almost laughable if it weren’t so hot. As the legs of his boxer briefs were forced upwards, deep cuts in the muscle were revealed. Each of the quads was thicker than Jacob’s whole torso, and the cuts were so intense he felt drawn to wrap his fingers around the long, thick muscle heads. As far as he could tell Harry wasn’t even flexing, he was just so immense and so shredded that every single fiber was visible through his paper-thin skin. Beneath the quads, teardrop calves clung onto sturdy lower legs, though at this point they were resembling a capital “P” more so than a teardrop. Jacob almost had to step back as the last remains of clothing on the behemoth twitched before him. The bulge in Harry’s too-small boxer briefs began to swell until it looked like an overgrown banana was being restrained by them; every pulsing inch clearly discernible through the stretched fabric as it sat atop two orange-sized balls. He could even see several inches of thick, vascular cock where the waistband was being pulled away from Harry’s abs, by both the new narrowness of his waist, and the weight of the monster restrained there. Jacob looked up at Harry, his mouth open in awe. Harry looked down, but nervously had to take a step back as he couldn’t see Jacob past his new pec shelf. Just moving his head felt strange, as he could feel the vast muscles of his traps reaching up almost as high as his ears twitching against his thick neck to move. He reached an arm up to feel his neck, and was surprised to meet resistance as his biceps collided with his pecs, limiting movement. Touching his neck he found that it was as thick as his own head, maybe even an inch or two thicker. “Holy fuck.” He said, to Jacob, his voice multiple octaves deeper than it had been, minutes ago. “I mean… holy fuck.” Jacob could barely think, and only managed a few astonished words. “All that from ‘I love working out in the gym?’”

This is my first story I've ever posted on here! Let me know what you think and what you think I could improve as I move forward with writing this! If you have an suggestions on where the story should go, don't be scared to leave those too! I'm still brainstorming where this might go! The AntiHero Chapter 1: Frankie no more... Frankie was just your ordinary lad. He wasn’t too muscular, not too athletic, and not at all coordinated. In fact the only thing he had going for him was his devilishly handsome face and his charming grin. Other than that Frankie was the definition of average at best. This was a big difference compared to Quinn, Frankie’s longtime rival who consistently one-upped everything Frankie tried to do. Quinn was a lad’s lad. He had the good looks, fit body, and boyish charm to get any girl swooning. He knew it too. Quinn exuded confidence and always walked around like his shit didn’t stink. He’d consistently take sexy shirtless selfies with a seductive grin for his Instagram and other socials. Day by day, Frankie could do nothing but watch his rival get all the attention and praise. Frankie was sick of living as the “average at best” kinda guy. But he didn’t know how to change it. For months he went to bed wishing every night that something would change. That he could become the better man. A real “man” among the “men”, if you know what I mean. Halloween was quickly approaching, and for once Frankie wished he could be the hunk at the costume party that was strutting around in a seductive getup. But alas, once again it would be Quinn who would most likely come dressed up as some sexy superhero, a spartan warrior, or a chippendale dancer. At least…. this is how it was supposed to be. But sometimes plans change and people change too. In fact, Frankie’s wishes may just be coming true after so many months of hope. Soon he’ll be this “man” among the men. And soon he’ll be the one strutting around the costume party in a sexy head turning getup. It was on Halloween morning when the mysterious package that would do all this arrived at Frankie’s door. Frankie was sitting and watching TV just like he does any other day, when the doorbell rang. He wasn’t expecting anyone or anything, so he was quite off-put when he opened the door to a package at his feet. He looked around for a few moments before picking up the box and bringing it inside. “Maybe it was dropped at the wrong address” Frankie thought. But alas, his name and address was on the box. Curiously, Frankie began slicing open the taped up edges with a box cutter. “I wonder what’s inside” he pondered under his breath. As he flipped open the cardboard lids, Frankie was not only taken back by what he saw, but also beginning to feel a pit of rage in his gut. “Fucking Quinn’s such an asshole” Frankie snarled through gritted teeth as he pulled out the contents. He held up what looked like a military vest and then threw it aside. His face became redder and redder as he went in for the second item in the box. He wrapped his hands around the leather straps and metallic clasps. He instantly knew what this was. “The prick thought it would be funny to get me a bane costume.” Knowing it would look awful on his slim frame, Frankie was infuriated and humiliated at the same time. There was no way he could go to the costume party now. “I bet Quinn is probably gonna wear the same costume too, just to show me up” Frankie internally sulked. He threw the mask aside, not noticing the note that was sitting at the bottom of the box. Hours passed as Frankie sat defeated, stuffing his face with junk food. The annual Halloween party was in just 45 minutes, so at this point Frankie couldn’t even think about getting another costume ready. He felt every negative emotion in the book. He was ashamed with his physical form, but also loathed the fact he was gonna miss the opportunity to attend this event. That’s when something strange happened. His phone began buzzing to a mysterious text from an unknown number. “Put the mask on Frankie, we will be one soon. Just be patient.” “What the fuck is this shit. Is he really texting me from a fake number now?” Frankie growled. “You know what fuck Quinn. I’m going to go to the party dressed as bane and be perfectly confident. That will show him.” Frankie stormed over to the box and grabbed the mask. He began to pull it over his head, and it immediately fit quite snugly around his jaw. As Frankie squeezed the mask over the back of his head, he felt a several slight stings, almost as if he was being pricked by several needles in the back of his skull. “Must just be my hair getting caught” he thought to himself. But Frankie was quite wrong. The second Frankie put the mask on, his fate was sealed and forever changed. Almost immediately, Frankie began to feel an enormous amount of pressure in the back of his head and temples. At first he thought he was going to pass out, but this sensation was quite different. Frankie felt buzzed, and quite energized. Without warning, the pain began shooting down his spine and then out towards his lats. As the pain wrapped itself around his rib cage, Frankie could feel a heat flooding his body. It went down each arm into the fingertips, through his legs, and even into his groin. “What the fuck is happening to me!” Frankie squealed in a high pitch scream of terror. He grabbed the back of the mask and attempt to pry it off his scalp, but it was just too tight. Even more, it felt like the back of the mask was latched inside his skin where the pinching feeling was felt. The pain was rapidly increasing and that’s when it began… Frankie heard a loud crack as an unbearable pain shot down his spine. He let out a blood curdling scream as his spine began stretching his frame taller. “No! Make it stop, please!” Frankie whimpered as he fell on his hands and knees to the floor. “I don’t want this anymore!” He slammed his hands into the floorboards as the unbearable pain shot to his lats and ribcage which began cracking and spreading wider apart. To Frankie’s surprise, his hit caused the wooden board to crack and splinter. “So fucking strong” Frankie moaned animalistically. There was an evil gleam in his eye for a second, but he quickly snapped out of it. “No! Did I just fucking do that.” He winced. “This isn’t me. I’m a gentle guy.” He sat on those words for a few seconds before beginning to snicker to himself. “I’m not gentle. I’m fucking powerful and dominant” he growled sadistically. As he said this, the pain moved into his chest and biceps. Interestingly, the pain wasn’t bothering Frankie as much. He actually liked how it was beginning to feel. Every second he was feeling more and more manly. More authoritative. More godly. Frankie snapped back into reality when he saw the veins in his forearms begin to plump. As they pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, they grew green in color and began to push against his tightening skin. Frankie watched in horror as his forearms and biceps grew thick and solid. A spider web of veins entangling around them. With his voice trembling, he whimpered “please no more!” He stood up and once again tried to rip the mask off. Despite his arms being much stronger, the mask still wouldn’t un-latch itself from the back of his skull. Frankie was beginning to feel angrier than ever. But with this anger came a feeling of power and an even greater desire for more power. He began puffing his chest out, giving his pecs room to expand into big, veiny globs full of muscle sinews. Frankie’s Black T-shirt was stretching to its limits. Any onlooker would have just assumed he was wearing an athletic compression shirt if they didn’t know it was once quite loose fitting on his frame. “Fuck this feels so good” Frankie growled while throwing his head back, letting his pecs and lats extend to their full size. At this moment, his shirt snapped open and slid off his arms. In one swift motion Frankie threw his fist at the wall, creating a crumbling crater in the cement and wood barrier. Frankie cackled and sneered a cocky grin. Frankie moved to a nearby mirror to see the god... - I mean “man” - he was turning into. Upon seeing his reflection the real Frankie suddenly came back. “No! This isn’t who I’m supposed to be. This is a monster. I’m not…” He stopped talking, transfixed on his expanding legs, which he now didn’t even notice were in a great deal of pain. In a deeper octave than just seconds ago he muttered “I AM a monster.” The hulking beast emphasized the word AM. As the last of the masks venom spread through his body, Frankie let out a guttural and baritone growl raising his biceps into a double bicep pose. “Fuck ya! I am a monster! I am fucking bane!” Bane felt an instant urge to use his strength… to break something. The first thing that came to mind was the couch his former self was sulking on all night. With a single hand he lifted the 900lb object over his head. “I’m so strong... So powerful. This feels fucking fantastic!” As he said this, Frankie… -I mean Bane - brought the couch down onto his knee, cracking it in two. He no longer feared the beast he was becoming. In fact inside little Frankie was beginning to lose himself to the power that he felt. He loved that he had become an inhumanly strong god among men. He loved that his muscles were absolutely bulging with striations and chiseled beyond belief. And most of all, he loved that he was going to show Quinn what a real “man” is supposed to be. Frankie grabbed the vest that was sitting in the box and tried to strap it over his shirtless torso, but there was no way it was going to fit. “Fuck it, I look better shirtless anyway” he snarled. Then he noticed the note sitting in the bottom of the box. He picked it up and read it aloud with his dense, baritone voice. “Frankie, I’ve chosen you to become the next King of our beings. Just put on the mask and you will be Bane. Attend the party as Bane and I will find you. Then we’ll merge and become strong enough to rule this world and force everyone to bow to our power! I know you want this Frankie. You always have, so just put on the mask.” The note was signed “Venom.” Bane’s bloodthirsty growl said it all. Deep down, the last bit of the innocent Frankie faded. “You’re right Venom. I was born to be a fucking god! I may have been Frankie, but from now on my worshipers will know me only as Bane!!!!” And with that… little Frankie was no more.

Hulk el adolescente cachondo parte 2 una masturbación placentera *I feel this story is a bit short but in the third chapter I will make it much longer and more detailed* alex jhonson un chico guapo pero a la vez un poco nerd con cabello castaño y ojos azules pero usa lentes lo cual no le ayudaria mucho tiene una figura delgada el cual siempre ha tenido problemas de ansiedad y tenor pero a la vez esta demasiado cachondo cualquier cosa que veas de hombres desnudos sus pectorales y su culo y lo más importante su polla este tipo se convierte en una bestia bastante temible, hermosa y muy musculosa llamándose a sí mismo "hulk" ante todos... Recién sucedió esa noche cuando se transformó por primera vez, desde que estupeó en una videollamada" alex-hulk estaba corriendo en el bosque destruyendo los pinos y árboles grandes que se interponían en su camino fácilmente los rompió fácilmente sin rasguños aunque algo sucio, corriendo en toda la tierra bastante rocosa y húmeda con sus enormes pies verdes y dedos llenos de polvo se detuvo a ver un hermoso paisaje con una gran cascada y un hermoso cielo esa noche Alex-hulk se asombró y se detuvo a ver la hermosa luna gamma, la cual para agradecerle su destino comenzó a darle un fuerte rugido Alex-hulk: ROOOAAAAAARRGGGG !! (un grito bastante poderoso asustando a los animales y pájaros) Alex-Hulk ve su polla y con ganas de follar empieza a manosearse salvajemente, tocando sus sucios y embarrados pechos musculosos pero no le importa Pero lo que importa es tocarse y la mano derecha agarra su enorme polla verde y rápidamente la masajea y hacia abajo varias veces. Alex-hulk: AGHHH...mmmmmj..SI...VAMOS A LA MIERDA (gemidos y palabras sucias de Alex-hulk) su cuerpo comienza a crecer un poco más haciendo que sus músculos sean más perfectos sus pantorrillas más voluminosas y sus bíceps más fuertes haciendo que alex hulk crezca hasta la medida de unos 3 metros de altura alcanzando su altura máxima de la bestia Alex-hulk hulk aún no le importaba su de altura pero empieza a explotar demasiada leche fertil y verde, Alex-hulk sigue agarrando y levantando mas fuerte su pene trata de parar pero es inutil su orgasmo crece mas y mas que se puso a cuatro patas y apunto de eyacular dice.. . Alex-hulk: HULK... ¡¡¡COÑOS!!! (grito liberal y gemido con una voz demasiado grave) Alex-hulk eyacula lo suficiente que su pene comienza a perder el control y se corre incluso en las paredes y en el piso, eyaculando demasiado, Alex-hulk gime de placer y agarra su pene para tragar su semen el cual esta mas descontrolado y todo su cuerpo se tiñe de verde, a lo cual cae aliviado en el piso con todo el semen derramado, su pene comienza a terminar de sacar leche y deja de palpitar, hulk alex muy cansado y acostado toma la decision de dormir y descansar después de una masturbación muy placentera, aunque olía demasiado a semen, a ella no le importó mucho y aún en la oscuridad, en la noche con un fuerte frío y una tormenta de lluvia, todavía estaba caliente... 8:30 de la mañana el amanecer... que le duelen mucho los ojos pero no mucho es normal que una persona que se levanta temprano camine algo dolorida sin poder caminar derecho, bajando de la cueva y buscando un camino oh chosa para buscar alguna ayuda oh refugio. .. continuará...

Hey guys, this is just a short story (?) idea i had in mind, so i decided to write it down, hope you guys will like it! Hey guys, im new to the sub, but i thought about a thing i've been seeing recently. Im a super young gay guy who's still a teenager and i've seen that recently a lot of gay guys have started going to the gym and a lot. Why is everybody getting so huge? It's crazy, i've never seen such a epidemic of massive muscled guy ever before, if you see somebody who completely dwarfs all the other guys and looks like a giant you're almost certainly sure he's gay. I have this uncle, he's at the end of his 20s and so far he's always been feminine and on the fat side but recently he started going to the gym, in a matter of a year or two he gained 8 pack abs and 20 inches biceps, he started loving the gym as he's closed himself in it and he does want to get much bigger. He started eating like a pig, getting richer, taller, adjusting his looks and now hes just an adonis. But he's not the only one, i've been to a gay bar recently and when i got in i was surrounded by a multitude of gigantic men, some even bigger than pro-bodybuilders and much much taller than me, what's happening to the gay scene, why is everybody getting so big that they completely dwarf straight men? I heard on the news recently of this upcoming bodybuilder that's concurring for mister olympia that 's way bigger than all the bodybuilders of the past. He's almost 3 meters tall and has incredible 27 inches biceps. He looks like one of those morphed guy but in reality. And guess what? Turns out he's gay! Even the not that muscular guys are way bigger than you, it's crazy. What do you gay guys eat? Im finding out that being as big as a pro-bodybuilder now is a starting point. Why is everybody getting so muscular and manly? I did meet up with a man i found on grindr, he had just a photo of his face and seemed so goodlooking. What i found was a well over 2 meters tall giant that had biceps that were as big as 2 times my head, he was looking at me like i was a steak, i decided to run away cause i was too scared. I'm starting to feel like an ant when searching for a boyfriend. Everybody seems to be so powerful, and not only in the strenght department, they are getting extremely intelligent and rich. Then i thought muscular gays were only into muscular gays but i'm a twink and my grindr it's been flooding with huge guys tapping me and wanting to know me. I'm so scared of big guys! Can please somebody please explain this?

As stated in another post, I've been asked to upload some of the stories I wrote for the old site. The one below was the first story I ever wrote...I may have been 17 or 18 at the time...and I could only find the first four chapters. It ultimately had 14 or so if I remember correctly but the forth chapter ends at a pretty nice spot so I figured a partial story was better than none at all. The other chapters are on the legacy site; I'll post them if I can get around to digging them up. CHAPTER I: THE JOURNEY THE SUN was just reaching its midday peak. Tyson, shirtless as usual, was taking the hard way up the hillside and climbing up a rocky crag while Jason lumbered up the leaf covered path to the side. Jason couldn’t help but notice the muscle rippling under Tyson’s tan back. “Showoff” was all he could mutter. The two made an odd friendship but then again, middle school doesn’t see the segregation of cliques quite the way high school does. Both fourteen and days out of eight grade, Tyson and Jason had been friends since kindergarten even if it was apparent even then that they were destined for different futures. Tyson, then and especially now, visually screamed the word jock. He had featured a six-pack from the womb it seemed and throughout his life had never had a drop of fat on him. He was your standard muscle-kid: not thick but shredded enough to show every line of muscle that was roped on his frame. Tyson knew that description would be ending soon; over the last few months he had noticed Tyson beginning to thicken out. Although still thin in adult terms at 155 lb and 5’10, the telltale signs were there. His lats had begun to expand out when he strained them. Striations could be seen in his chest and back and his arms had begun to expand from their circular baseball shape to a more adult football shape. His body was begging to grow and beginning to get its wish. These changes had just begun and would be hard to notice at a casual glance but Jason knew his friend and couldn’t help feel a little helpless. Jason was the opposite of Tyson. A little shorter at 5’8, he weighed a good eighty pounds more and all of it was fat as far as Jason was concerned. A portly child from a portly family, he had accepted his fate as being the cliché chunky, fat kid. He was active. In fact, he did almost everything with Tyson and he extended energy as much as anyone did. That made it worse, for Jason’s physique was not for lack of trying to change it. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt that made his arms look like upside down bowling pins for their lack of definition and pale coloring. His gut hung over the top of his shorts and sweat stains made a nice outline of what his less-than-friends called breasts. Jason seemed to be the only one of the pair who secretly assumed that high school would separate the two of them; he would join the chess club while Tyson became the star quarterback. In spite of himself, Jason smiled, for the time being he did have a great friend and had no real reason to feel sorry for himself. “Don’t be hating, Jason, just tell me how awesome I am and hurry up.” He turned around. The overhead sun shined on Tyson, shading his body in vertical contrast and making him look larger that he really was. His pecs and abs cast shadows on the creases of his torso all the way down to the slight ‘V’ that tapered into his low hanging basketball shorts. While he patiently waited for his friend, Tyson began flexing his forearms. Jason wasn’t the only one who noticed Tyson’s growth spurt. “Just taking the scenic route,” Jason said. The two of them were doing what they had done each summer since elementary school: exploring the seemingly endless wilderness behind Jason’s house. As far as any map insinuated, the woods were endless. There wasn’t a city or road to speak of in what was labeled as a government preserve, whatever that meant. Jason’s father said it had been such since after World War II. The two continued their aimless quest deeper into the woods and the sun continued past its zenith and began to descent. They went through the lunch they packed themselves and lost track of time until mid-afternoon when Jason’s stomach started requesting more. “Ready to turn back, Ty?” Jason asked through his panting. Tyson turned around, looking at his watch, and his eyebrows rose. “Wow, we’ve been out here for eight hours. That’s got to be a record.” “Eight hours!?” Jason exclaimed. “That’s was in a straight line, man! It’ll take us just as long to get home.” “Relax, Jason,” Tyson said in his carefree way. “It’s all down hill anyway and—What’s that?” Tyson looked past Jason’s shoulder towards a flatter spread of forest. “What’s what?” Jason turned and saw a chain link fence that stretched off to the distance until hidden by hill or forest. “A fence? Out here? Looks old.” The fence was completely brown with rust and in many parts was at an angle other than ninety degrees from the ground. The two walked up to an aged aluminum sign hanging on a section of the fence. Without the sign, the boys would have missed the fence completely since it blended so well with the wooded background. They had to strain to read the sign since most of the lettering was faded: WARNING Government Research Installation Trespassers will be Prosecuted !DANGER! Fence energized with 10,000 Volts DO NOT TOUCH “Well that’s inviting,” Tyson chuckled as Jason reached for the fence. “Don’t touch that, you jackass, you’ll—“ He was cut off as Jason touched the fence and screamed at the top of his lungs, shaking from head to foot. Panic stricken, Tyson began screaming too and began setting up to tackle Jason away from the fence just as Jason’s scream transformed into laughter and he let go of the fence. Panic turning into anger, Tyson charged and tackled his still laughing friend to the ground anyway. “You fucker! I had images of having to drag your ass all the way home.” Tyson, fending off his friend’s punches as best as he could, continued to chuckle. “I don’t care how buff you’re getting, you couldn’t drag my fat ass a quarter mile before passing out.” “True, so I’d just have to heave you into a tree and hope the bears didn’t snack on your corpse, you ass.” “Whatever. That fence is a shove away from turning into dust. You thought it was actually still electrified?” He started laughing again. Throwing one more punch in the gut that cut Jason’s laughter off with a grunt, Tyson got off of his friend and helped him up. While Jason brushed the leaves off his sweat soaked shirt, Tyson walked over to the fence and did give it one solid shove. The fence broke off its stabilizing beam and fell to the ground with a clang. “Looks like a door to me,” he said and stepped into the recently forbidden territory. Feeling that sense of adventure that only young teenagers feel, Jason followed, careless of the sun continuing its journey to the horizon. CHAPTER II: THE DISCOVERY At first their misdemeanor appeared to be about as exciting as two rocks facing each other. The world behind the fence was the same as the one they left: trees, foliage, and rocky hills. After about fifteen minutes, Jason’s hunger began to signal his sense that they should begin their return home. He was just about to voice it when they both saw the clearing. Once passed the trees, they stopped and stared at the stretch of seemingly abandoned buildings that clustered together at the end of an uncared-for road that ran off into the forest. Whatever the maps said, there apparently was once humanity here. The boys looked at each other and with sparkling eyes started off to the buildings. The structures were anything but permanent. Perhaps five large steel buildings made up the ghost village, most missing windows. They went in and out of them at random. One building held what was once dozens of beds lining the wall. Another may have been a kitchen once. Another may have been an exercise room discernable only by what might have been a basketball court. The entire place had ancient junk strewn about. Here an old comb, there a clipboard. The place looked as if the occupants left in a hurry. The largest building was the last they came to. It was more sturdy but still in major disrepair. It also differed from its neighbors in that its now glass-absent windows were fortified with bars and the front door had a lock that had since rusted to a solid lump of brown. Not one to allow anything to get in his way, Tyson grabbed the lump and began twisting. The muscles on his back once again began to dance. The striations in his shoulders made waves across his skin and the veins in his chest began to stand out as he flexed every muscle in his torso in a vain attempt to get the lock off. Regardless of the display, Jason knew his friend’s efforts were useless. Rusty steel was still steel and that lock was one of the few things in this area built to last. After another few minutes, Tyson released the lock, gasping for breath. “It’s useless, man, that lock is on there pretty--” A crash cut Tyson off. He looked at its source where Jason stood about 10 feet away, smiling; the bars that once covered one of the windows lying at his feet in a cloud of dust. “A half-inch bolt rusts much faster than a three inch lock, Ty,” Jason lectured. “Who’s the showoff now?” Tyson snorted as he lifted him self up into and through the gaping hole without another word. Jason followed right behind. The sun was at an angle now where it cast its fading light directly into the building. The disarray was magnified here. Everywhere lay what looked to be science equipment: broken vials, dusty stools, splintered desks, and translucent goggles scattered at random in the large room. It was like the people here left with the fear of god in them. Tyson began rummaging in the back corner where it appeared a makeshift vault had been built into the wall and Jason went over to one of the desks. A manila folder lay on it, making it the only paper either had seen since coming here. On its spine, in letters to faded to make out completely: HU-AN GRO--H INI--ATI-E : MUSC--AR DEVE-OP---T D—ARTMENT Before he could attempt to make out the words, he heard a scream. Turning towards his friend, he saw Tyson grabbing his forearm as a weasel darted across the room. “Fucking rodent!” Tyson moaned as blood started trickling from between his fingers. Jason watched as the animal darted to a hole in the wall and as the sun caught its black leathery tail he gasped. That was no weasel; that was the biggest rat he had ever seen. It had to be the size of a mailbox. He turned to his friend, who was wiping his arm off on his pants. Aside from where a few teeth had punctured his skin, there wasn’t much to see. “You ok?” Jason asked. “Animal bites can get pretty nasty if you don’t treat it.” “It’s fine,” Tyson shrugged, obviously embarrassed he had made anything of it in the first place.” “Dude, I’m serious, we need to get back now.” Tyson looked at him then out the window. “Jason, it’ll be dark in a couple hours. We’re crashing here for the night.” “What?” was all Jason could retort. They argued for a few minutes but in the end Jason knew his friend was right. Walking home under the darkness of night was a good way to break a leg or get lost. He sat down hard on the ground in defeat. At any rate, their adventurous spirit died with the sun. They made a camp of sorts in the vault at the back of the room, Jason falling asleep against a chest shoved in the corner. His last thought was whether or not he’d have to drag a rabies infected friend home in the morning. CHAPTER III: THE BOX Jason awoke to the crackle of a fire. The vault was dark but through the open door he could see Tyson sitting over a fire. He stretched and walked out to his friend. Over the fire was a makeshift spit with what looked to be a dog roasting on it. Closer inspection showed it to be a rabbit, if the largest he’d ever seen. Then again, if rats could get so big in the wild then why not rabbits. Off to Tyson’s side were the bones of at least 2 other rabbits. Another lay ready for the fire nearby. “Where the hell did these come from?” Jason asked in shock. “And how did you gut them? And…” He didn’t really know what to say. Tyson turned around, swallowing a mouthful. “Morning champ. It was the strangest thing; I woke up with my stomach growling something crazy. At first I thought that rat bite got me sick but then I just realized I was jus starving. It got so bad that I had to get up and find…something. It took a while but a few well-thrown rocks was all it took to bring these massive bunnies down. Want one? I got one for you too.” He gestured at the corpse lying next to him. “No thanks, I just lost my appetite.” He sat down across the fire from Tyson. “You feeling ok?” “Actually, I feel great. Like I could run a marathon or push over a tree,” Tyson said as he tore into the third rabbit and got the forth on the fire. Jason’s jaw dropped. If the other rabbits were as big as these two then Tyson was about to devour the equivalent of half a cow. I guess he is feeling fine, Jason thought. He stared at his preoccupied friend across the fire. The light danced across his body, casting shadows over his muscle His shoulders were as striated as ever, completely separated from his biceps. His chest bounced with every moment of his arms and his abs were clearly defined even while sitting down. He must be flexing every muscle in his body, Jason thought. He’s going to be trouble… I’ve never noticed how defined his traps were, either. It was true. A slab of muscle now rose up out of his shoulder and connected halfway up his neck. He almost glowed. After finishing his forth animal, they both got up. Jason had to convince Tyson not to go out for more food. “I don’t care how hungry you still are, there’s plenty of food at my place. Besides, you just ate like thirty pounds of food. Look at your stomach for god’s sake.” Tyson looked down at the now prominent bulge that stretched his abs. “Heh, heh, yeah, I guess I’ve had enough. Weird though, I’m still famished.” “You’ll make it home before wasting away, I promise.” Jason stated as he turned to go. “Wait,” Tyson said. “One more thing.” Jason turned around, exacerbated, as Tyson raced into the vault. After a few grunts and thuds he emerged from the door with the same chest that Jason had fell asleep against. It looked heavy whatever it was. Each yank moved the thing about 2 feet. “What on earth are we going to do with that?” Jason demanded. “Take it home of course,” Tyson said as he continued to drag it to the window. “I tried to get it open in there but it’ll take a screw driver to get that thing open.” “Like hell we are,” Jason snapped back. “The two of us together couldn’t lug that thing a mile. We couldn’t get it through the window.” Tyson stared at the window sitting just at chest level. “If I can get it out of here will you help me the rest of the way?” Jason looked at the window too and smiled. “Sure, but I’m not helping you get it through the window.” Tyson smiled and hoisted himself through the window. Confused, Jason looked out of it to see Tyson run to the door and grab the lock again. He twisted it with all of his might and within a few seconds the lock groaned and gave way, falling to the ground. “Holy shit,” Jason gasped as he ducked back from the window while Tyson kicked the door in. The sun silhouetted his heaving body as he stood smiling. “I never said HOW I was going to get it out.” Now Jason was stuck in a promise he didn’t want to keep. They each grabbed an end and began hauling it the long track home. The chest must have been made of lead; it may have weighed over two hundred pounds. Not like Jason had much to go by. He wasn’t much of a weight lifter. Tyson did most of the work. He took most of the weight as they trudged down the hills. “Man, look at this pump,” Tyson commented on his own body during one of Jason’s frequent breaks from the trek. Jason, now also bare from the gut up and using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, looked at Tyson as he flexed his arm. Pump indeed. His friend flexed a bicep the size of a baseball. Veins protruded from the muscle seemingly pumping with blood. Veins stood out everywhere, seemingly struggling to feed his body. Tyson flexed his chest, making them bounce like Jason had never seen in person. The sides of Tyson’s abs were absolutely shredded. Muscle could be seen clearly, everywhere. What was going on? Tyson’s eyes looked hungry. He put his hand over each muscle as he flexed it; flexed it harder and harder as if willing them to grow more. A they seemed to be doing just that. Jason shook his eyes away and went to pick up his side of the box again. “Let’s just go,” he said with a sigh. Tyson came up and moved him away. “Don’t worry, man, I got it.” And with that he hoisted the chest up and carried it himself. Jason stood there awestruck. There was no way Tyson could have done that this morning. Granted, the chest was still heavy; Tyson labored under its weight as if each step would be his last. All he could do was follow though, and stare at his friend’s back as they worked their way home. The hours rolled by without any conversation. They both knew their way home. Jason was lost in his own thoughts. He kept staring at his friend and his ever-increasing “pump.” He just kept swelling up. The veins snaked across his back and seemed to pulse with blood. His lats began to flare out. His back, constantly under the strain of the chest, swelled out with added layers of muscle. It was covered in rolling bulges; striations forming at his lower back. His traps continued to grow upward. His triceps, which shouldn’t even be feeling any strain, also started to bulge, every muscle defining itself as if he had trained only that muscle for hours a day, months on end. It wasn’t that he was getting massive, he was just nothing but skin and muscle and that skin was stretching to cover his muscle for all it was worth. His calves were shredded as well. They strained and seemed to grow larger with each step. What was going on? Suddenly he noticed that in the two hours they had been walking by in silence, Tyson had not put the chest down once. In fact, he walked as if he were carrying a box of books. He strained, sure, but not nearly as much as he had when he first picked it up hours ago. He couldn’t just stand there anymore. “Tyson, I-” He cut himself off. Tyson turned around and put the chest down effortlessly. Pump nothing; his friend was growing. The veins had died down a bit, as if their job was done. Tyson looked at his body and touched it with both hands. “What’s happening to me?” He turned around and faced Jason, “Holy shit!” Jason blurted out. Tyson was a different person. His biceps were, in a word, huge. No pump could explain it. What had been a baseball was now swollen from his inner elbow to his shoulder. He flexed it and it peaked up a good two inches it seemed. He touched his abs. “Dude! Feel this shit.” Jason couldn’t help himself. His hand immediately went to Tyson’s abs and pulled away just as quickly. “Holy shit” he said again as his hand returned to Tyson’s midsection. It was like touching skin-covered metal. Not in a figurative sense, either. His body was as hard as any substance he had ever touched, covered in bronze skin. His hand, having a mind of its own, moved up to Tyson’s chest. All sinew and mass, they were two heaving slabs of beef. All in all he looked like an anatomic model of skeletal muscle that had skin vacuum-packed around it. He looked strong. Every movement of his body sent Tyson’s muscles dancing. Pulling his pant leg up revealed quads that rivaled a bodybuilder’s; each muscle separated with deep enough grooves to put a finger in. Jason stopped and took his hands away. It was more than he could handle. Tyson was still enthralled with his new physique, his hands all over his new eight pack. “The rat bite,” he said suddenly. “It must have done something to me. And those rabbits. All those animals were huge. What was that place?” “It was a government lab,” Jason answered. “They must have worked on human growth formulas and got shut down somewhere along the line. I guess those animals were decedents of the animals they tested. They—“ Their eyes suddenly went to the chest. “Let’s get home and get that thing open,” Tyson demanded. Jason had no hesitation about complying. CHAPTER IV: THE EXPERIMENT They made their way home in record speed. A quick of his home told Jason that his parents were gone, apparently not worried about their son not returning home the night before as the letter dated for that morning told him his parents were off for a summer vacation for the next few days. How convenient. When he walked back to the porch, he watched as Tyson strained to get the chest open. The miraculous growth had stopped about when they had first commented on it. It made sense; Tyson’s body had absorbed every bit of food he had eaten and even used every shred of what little fat he stored to give him the muscle he had. Question was: Was his body done growing or did it simply need more food? Tyson meanwhile, was grabbing the handle with one hand, the base with the other, and was giving everything he had to try to get the chest open. His body was as tense as iron, every muscle pumped and flexed to its max yet nothing happened. The box was made of steel and so was the lock apparently. And this type didn’t rust. With a last grunt, Tyson violently gave up, kicking the chest with a sigh of rage. He stood up, sweat soaking his taught body, gathering in the channels of his chest, abs and arms and running like rainwater down a window. A simple motion of turning his head even set his neck muscles to work, each one flexing and grinding against another like a pile of snakes. “I’m still hungry” was all he said as he brushed by him and into the house. The next two hours consisted of Tyson consuming every bit of protein in the house, and there was plenty. An obese family of three knew their way through a grocery store. Tyson consumed eight cans of tuna, every pound of hamburger, chicken, steak, and turkey they owned and had even started eating peanuts before he finally felt full. His stomach bloated beneath his boulder-like abs as if he were 8 months pregnant. Hands on the countertop, Tyson stopped to take a breath, then rounded the corner to the bathroom. A quick look inside showed Tyson on the scale, the digital readout displaying 187 pounds. “Holy shit, you’ve eaten 30 pounds of food.” “And twenty of it is still in my stomach,” Tyson said with a possessed gleam in his eyes. “I wonder—Man! I’m tired.” And as if his brain was running solely at the demands of his body, Tyson, clad only in a pair of gym shorts, collapsed on the couch, asleep in seconds. Jason watched his friend lie there for a little while before his grumbling stomach pulled him into the kitchen. He hadn’t eaten since the afternoon before and only just now realized he was famished. He got a good way through a third Hungryman TV dinner before he heard Tyson moan from the couch. Jason scrambled to the couch and saw that his friend’s breathing had quickened and his muscles were twitching. Within 5 minutes, his friend’s veins started swelling in that telltale precursor for growth. They started by just getting bigger, then they began to pump with every beat of his heart. And every beat made his muscles bigger. The bulge in his stomach slowly retreated as the energy inside it transformed him. His muscles involuntarily flexed and twitched as they swelled. His neck strained as it expanded, the cables in his neck expanding. His traps bulged and formed a peak between his neck and shoulder. His arms flexed and relaxed growing to the size of softballs while his triceps, every muscle protruding like it was trying to escape, pushed his arms out the other way. The grooves in his abs grew deeper as the rectangles of muscle that made up what was now a ten-pack pushed out. His lats flared pushing out his arms. The veins continued to pulse as they snaked their way down beneath his shorts and to his legs. His quads rolled in a never-ending battle as one set of muscle tried to grow over another. His calves looked perpetually flexed, shaped like diamonds and probably as hard. Tyson moaned in his sleep and his hand went to his crotch. That was when Jason noticed there was another bulge he had yet to see. His friends cock looked like it was already erect but when his sleeping buddy unconsciously adjusted to give it room he noticed that it was flaccid and probably over seven inches long. Suddenly Tyson’s eyes groggily opened and he sat up, stretching. The movement sent his body rolling as the brand new muscle moved for the first time. He stood up, eyes fixated on the chest, walked over to the chest and picked it up. He tested its weight with both hands then in a solid motion grabbed the latch and the base separately and tore the box open. “I feel so strong, Jason,” Tyson said as he put the opened chest down. His voice was dreamy, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. “It’s taking all of my willpower to not try to punch a hole in a tree or even push it down. Because I feel like I actually could.” At that moment he looked down at his body for the first time since waking up. He grinned and looked at Jason before reaching down into the chest. He pulled out a smaller black chest with an intricate clasp. Placing it on the table, Jason pushed the button on the front and the top opened with a hiss. Jason walked over and looked in the 2’ x 1’ box. Inside lay row after row of sealed vials, each set in a perfectly shaped hole in a cork bed. Tyson pulled out one of the vials. ‘Serum 07D-54’ was stamped on the side. Tyson smiled, looked at Jason, and handed him the vial. “Your turn” was all he said. And it wasn’t a question.

Reposted and reworked from a previous post ------------ Jason Becomes a Man - Chapter 1 At 18 years old, Jason figured he should know by now where his life was headed. But there he stood, looking back at his reflection in his bedroom’s full-length mirror. Sure, this was the face he saw when he shaved every morning, but somehow he felt he didn’t recognize the person staring back at him. Long, somewhat clumsy, thick hair spread about his bare, gangly frame. It had been a long time since he had taken a good look at himself. “I guess it could be worse,” he thought. Finals were a few months away, and he had already committed to school for the fall, but something felt empty… incomplete... Jason was aware he was somewhat of an “early bloomer.” His voice dropped low and early, and by the end of his first year in middle school he was already well used to be addressed as “sir” when marketers called on the telephone. He knew his deep, booming baritone voice stood out, so he limited talking when possible to avoid drawing too much attention. By freshman year of high school, he hit a growth spurt that shot him up to a lankly 6’3’’. By senior year and his 18th birthday, he could already grow a full beard, and while his friends were comparing their single, newly sprouted chest hairs, Jason’s chest was practically fully covered with a brown, curly forest. As Jason looked himself up and down, he felt a little odd, like the pieces didn’t add up. His face looked thin and young, but he was hairier than his dad and most of his friends. He didn’t even fit in the mirror, and had to contort his long neck to see all of himself at once. Jason was conscious of the looks he got from his peers. Although he wasn’t ashamed of his body, he could hear his friends whispering about him after gym class, and whether or not they were looking at him with jealousy or disdain, Jason knew they were focused on him. “Maybe that’s what it is.” Jason thought as he looked up and down at his long, limber frame. He knew he had matured faster than his friends. That must be why he felt vaguely uneasy and unsure. Maybe they were making fun of him behind his back. Maybe his mind hadn’t grown into the changes yet. Even though it made him stick out among his peers, Jason’s lankiness and impressive height did have a distinct advantage; he excelled on his high school basketball team, and it had earned him a scholarship to an amazing school, much to the delight of his parents. Jason’s parents were much older than his friends’ parents, and had waited until they were well-established college professors in their mid-forties before having a child of their own. Like many of their generation, they emphasized the importance of building a career and becoming well adjusted-adults before having a family, and had pushed Jason toward the long academic path they had followed; Bachelor’s degree, then a Masters, then PhDs, etc. But Jason was having second thoughts. He had worked hard, but was it what he really wanted? He had already developed a fairly successful gardening business over the last year, trimming the yards of houses around town. He found that his large frame, although still fairly lanky, was well suited to the physical work, and he was already making a decent wage with his own business when most of his friends were making pennies at their minimum-wage summer jobs. It didn’t go unnoticed by his friends that girls loved to talk to him and be around him. One time, after talking with his friend Erika in the school hallway Jason overheard Allan, one of his basketball teammates, whisper to another friend, “that guys fucks.” But the truth was, although he had had a passing interest in girls, the pressure Jason was under from his parents drove him toward other pursuits. True, he had been on a few dates, two with Erika, but nothing progressed further than a kiss under a porch-light at the end of the night. *** There was one thing that had recently given Jason clarity and focus as the stress and confusion piled up around him- the gym. Jason’s basketball coach had him on a regular workout regimen to prepare him for college in the fall, and Jason found the physical activity cleansing. With a weight in his hand or a squat bar on his long shoulders, he focused in and tuned out. The blood pumped to his muscles, and his brain connected with something deeper inside himself. It was a time to see himself, to be alone and not think. As finals and graduation came and went, Jason dove deeper into his workouts on his own. His friends had all left for the summer for their last vacations before college, but Jason stayed behind. Summer was spent lifting and mowing lawns. It wasn’t long until he started noticing significant changes. The more he worked out, the hungrier he was, and while he always had a high amount of testosterone in his system, it seemed that the testosterone surged over the course of the summer. Powered by the flood of masculine hormones and his new-found voracious appetite, he packed on a solid 15 pounds of muscle by September, and his large, lanky frame began to fill out. His bony shoulders became broader with the added size, and his long, lanky arms swelled with healthy meat. He wasn’t big by bodybuilder standards, but he felt heftier, more substantial, like he took up more space in the world. Even more noticeable to Jason than his added muscle was the change to his demeanor. As he could feel the testosterone coursing through his veins, his vagueness and uncertainty had melted away to a masculine confidence. He felt in control. His hard work had brought results, and he finally started to feel like he had taken charge of life. The reactions of his friends upon returning home for the fall didn’t hurt, either. “Dude, what happened to my gangly friend,” remarked Jason’s basketball buddy Steven when they bumped into each other at the mall. “You’re looking bigger, bro, you’ve been working out?” Jason smiled a humble and yet slightly cocky smile. “Naw man, just trying to catch up to you guys.” The compliments trickled in from all of his friends. It was exciting, and it drove him to work even harder. Life was going well. Work was going well. Why mess with a good thing? Much to the chagrin of his parents, Jason decided to defer college for a year and focus on the gym and his burgeoning gardening business. *** Fall turned to winter, winter turned to spring, and spring gave way to the sweltering heat of summer once more. Now 19 and in the full throes of a testosterone flood, Jason had grown to a solid 225 lbs, filling out his broad 6”3’ frame. His lats widened, his back was broader, and his legs swelled with every squat. He had outgrown his high school gym clothes, and had to buy a new wardrobe large enough to allow for his quickly growing size. The basketball shorts that used to hang loose around his long legs now clung tight around his large quads. He had never thought he would be the dude in a stringer at the gym, but there he was. And it felt natural. One morning, after a particularly thorough workout, Jason tossed off his clothes in his room and caught sight of himself in his bedroom mirror. “Wow,” he thought aloud in his booming baritone, “Puberty really is a bitch, huh?” He thought that his jaw was noticeably squarer, and although he shaved every morning, he had a noticeable, thick brown stubble by 2:00pm. His broad pecs were coated with curly, brown hair that was slightly matted down with sweat from the gym, and it trailed down his tight abs and down to a thick bush of pubes. This looked right. It felt right. And was it his imagination, or had his balls dropped lower and slightly swelled in size? Jason flexed his thick biceps in the mirror, and moved the peaks back and forth. “Huh, cool,” he mused, his semi-erect dick swinging in the open air. The flowing hormones raised his confidence and he swaggered to the other side of the room and posed again. He squeezed his pecs in the light of his room, and even under his fairly thick chest hair he could see the striations ripple like tiny waves. “Shit.” He grunted. “I look like a fucking man.” His cock stood fully erect as he looked at himself in the mirror. A healthy 8.5 inches, uncut, and swelling with his newfound manliness. Jason wrapped his hand around it, almost habitually preparing to jerk off before bed as was his normal routine. But this time he looked down at his thick, stiff cock and a different desire emerged, a hot, impulsive feeling he had never acknowledged before. It was almost like a dormant instinct had risen within him. Jason, who had previously only had a passing interest in the opposite sex, felt an incredible urge to plunge his cock deep into a woman. He felt his thick member pulse. For the first time, he felt his deep, animal purpose as a man; to pleasure a woman and deliver his seed. Jason let go of his stiff rod and admired his masculine frame in the reflection. There would be no jacking off tonight. He smiled a crooked, cocky smile as he flexed both meaty biceps again. He was a man, and men fuck. *** The summer sun beat down hot, and Jason grunted as he re-positioned his lawnmower and pushed it across the Johnson’s lawn. Free from school or strict employment, Jason had let his hair grow out over the past year, and his golden brown hair draped over the back of his neck as he pushed his equipment around the yard. He had let his beard grow out too, although despite its length and thickness it was groomed in a neat, square shape that complimented his masculine jaw. With his height and large, hirsute frame, Jason was often mistaken for a man closer to 30 than 20. He noticed that grown men, even those twice his age, treated him different than they had even a year prior. They deferred to him naturally and treated him with automatic respect. Even the more experienced men at the gym started striking up conversations with him in an almost admiring way. It felt good to be held in such high regard, but as he pushed his lawnmower, his mind wandered. Was it weird that he had become so consumed with sex recently? He knew it was normal for guys his age to be horny all the time, but did they feel the same way he did? With his manly frame and manly swagger came an insatiable manly desire to cum inside a woman and fill her with his semen. Did he want kids? He was only 19, and that would be crazy. It would ruin his life, his parents said. Still, no one else he knew his age looked like he did. “Maybe some people become men before others,” he thought. But at 19 and a virgin who had never acted on his urges, he felt empty and unfulfilled in a way he couldn’t quite put into words. Sure, the admiration and respect he was getting lately was great, but underneath he felt unfinished. He looked every bit the red-blooded, meat-and-potatoes male, but he didn’t feel like a full man. Not yet. Jason had also noticed that Mrs. Johnson was watching him push his lawnmower shirtless in the heat, and could feel her eyes drink in every rippling crevice of his hulking, shirtless torso. He saw her shift when his bulging arms swung around his machinery, and he caught her staring at his broad, masculine shoulders as he unwound the hose on the side of the house. Jason waved. Mrs. Johnson waved back. “Great,” he thought, flipping his hair out of his face. “Another mom who wants the D.” Truth be told, Jason was getting attention from women (and some men) so often that he usually didn’t think twice about it. Girls his age called him a “daddy,” which made him slightly uncomfortable at first, but he grew into enjoying the compliment. Although he found himself horny most of the time, Jason funneled his frustration into the gym and his work. Business was booming. Mrs. Johnson wasn’t the only cougar in town with a lawn that needed mowing. But Jason had no real interest in the moms that hired him to trim their hedges. As his parents had drilled their sense of planning and responsibility into his head, Jason had purchased a few condoms to carry in his wallet for when the moment was right. He wasn’t dating anybody, but with his new primal, masculine urge consuming his mind most days, he knew that it was better to be safe than sorry. *** Jason parked his truck in the driveway. His parents were out of town for the weekend, so there was plenty of room. Just as he was turning his keys in the door, he heard a voice behind him. “Jason?” Jason turned around to see his friend Erika out walking her dog. “Erika! Hi!” “Oh my god, is that you? I mean, I know I’ve been away at school for a year but… wow, you got huge!” Jason blushed a bit at the compliment. “Thanks, so did- I mean- you look great, too!” Jason tried to act cool, but his hormones were putting him into stammering overdrive. Did Erika look like this the last time he saw her? He didn’t remember her hourglass figure, her full breasts, or her wide, perfect hips. Erika laughed. “Thanks.” She walked closer to the large, muscular man she hardly recognized as the boy she briefly dated a few short years ago. “You have a beard now!” “Yeah,” Jason replied, “it grows so fast it’s easier to just let it go.” He couldn’t help run his eyes up and down her perfect curvy torso. So feminine. The animalistic feeling in him rose. His face grew hot, and he slouched a bit to hid his growing erection. He plunged his hands into his pockets and his large triceps tensed in a horseshoe shape. Erika laughed again, “Geez, you’re unreal, dude. Those things are massive.” Jason saw Erika’s eyes drinking in his arms, and he stood up straight with pride, crossing his thick pythons across his chest, a tuft of thick, brown hair peeking out of the top of his white tee. Erika was truly awed by his masculinity, he couldn’t tell how he knew, but it was as if a new sense had opened up to him. Smelling the pheromones. He wasn’t hiding his growing erection anymore. “Nah, they’re not much really,” he said as he pretended to scratch an itch on the back of his neck, flexing his powerful bicep and stretching the limits of his sleeve. Erika leaned in, almost mesmerized, as her dog yanked at his leash to continue his walk. “Listen, Erika,” Jason said in his deep, resonant voice. “You want to get some yogurt or something tonight?” “Sure,” she muttered. Now Erika was the one stammering. “Meet me at eight?” *** Sometime after 10:00pm, Jason opened the door to his house and turned on the lights. Erika followed him in. “Thank you so much, I just need a glass of water,” she said, as Jason headed to the kitchen. “I don’t want to wake up your parents.” “They’re not home,” Jason yelled back, “are you sure you don’t want to come sit in the living room?” “Okay, just for a second,” Erika said as she put down her things. Erika sat on the couch, and Jason gave her the glass of water. He took off his jacket, once again revealing his muscled arms in his tight white tee. Erika saw the way it hugged his perfect V-shaped torso, and she sipped her water. Jason was quiet. “Jason?” “Yes?” “I need to be honest with you. I knew your parents weren’t home.” “Really?” Erika’s face was getting flushed, and she set down her glass. “I don’t know what it is,” she said, “Ever since I saw you I’ve just been… I don’t know… this is a new feeling for me. I saw your body, and that beard… …this is like…” She looked up at Jason and took a deep breath. “I’ve dated a few boys, but… you’re a god damn man.” Jason’s primal instincts were running wild. He felt his jeans get tight around his growing dick, and he moved toward Erika nervously. This large, hulking man was nervous. He kissed her passionately. He had kissed her before, but this time was different. This time he instinctively knew the kiss was a means to an end. “Mmm Jason,” Erika sighed, “I’ve never- uh… I mean with those boyfriends, I never actually…” her eyes drifted to the bulge in his pants. The thought of Erika’s virgin pussy was driving Jason to the brink. “Jason-“ And before she could say anything more, Jason scooped her in his thick arms and carried her up the stairs, and laid her on his parents’ king size bed. Erika removed her clothes, and laid on her back in only her underwear. Jason saw her prefect, full breasts spill down either side of her torso, and his mind raced. He peeled his tight white tee off of his rippling torso. Erika gasped. “Shit, you’re so hairy. Come here.” Jason threw his jeans aside, and flopped on the bed next to Erika. Erika ran her hands across his rock hard pecs, and trailed her fingers through his thick chest hair. “Too hairy?” “No! Dad hairy.” She looked deep into his eyes. “You can call me daddy if you want,” Jason rumbled, “I’ve gotten used to it.” Erika shivered as Jason ran his tongue down her neck and around her pert nipples. He held her breasts in his hands, and delighted in their soft weight. Naive and eager, he explored her feminine curves. Even though he had never been with a woman before, Jason acted almost automatically, his hands moving before his brain knew what was happening. With a strong, nervous hand, he stripped away Erika’s underwear. Jason had seen pictures of the female anatomy in textbooks before, but as Erika spread her legs wide open in front of his face, there it was, infinitely more beautiful than he expected. In a book it seemed so dry, so mechanical, but here was Erika’s pussy, pink and inviting, throbbing in anticipation of his touch. This was for him. He was meant to enter her and take his pleasure. He traced the labia lightly with his fingers, and Erika shuddered. She was giving herself over to him completely, and this was now his territory to conquest. He spread her vagina gently apart with his fingers and licked her soft pinkness with his tongue. She tasted sweet, and the musky scent of her shut his rational mind off almost completely. “Oh, oh god,” Erika moaned. “Your beard, your fucking beard!” Jason’s thick beard tickled Erika as he licked her pussy. The thought of being inside her swelled his dick to its full thick, 8.5 inches. The smell of her in his beard pushed his lust further. “Let me see it, I want to see it,” Erika begged. Jason removed his briefs, and his cock stood to full attention. “Oh my god, I need it, I need it inside of me,” Erika moaned. There they were, both completely naked. Jason, young and inexperienced but in every way a full virile man, and the woman laying legs wide open, ready to accept his manhood. Jason's girthy member had never felt stiffer, and it trembled, eager to feel the inside of a woman for the first time. Jason caught a glimpse of the scene in the bedroom mirror. “Shit,” he said out loud in his booming voice. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” Erika moaned and writhed in anticipation. Jason scrambled to his jean pocket and pulled out a condom from his wallet. He pulled it down across his large dick. It felt tight, but it was worth it to be safe, right? He pulled Erika to the edge of the bed, his primal instincts raging. With the tip of his dick, he gently caressed Erika’s warm, pink pussy. She moaned in response. “Wait, wait!” she gasped. “What?” “Take it off, take off the condom.” “But aren’t you-“ “I want your cum inside of me,” she heaved, “I need it. I don’t care what happens.” Jason peeled off the condom. This was his purpose. As he looked down at Erika’s throbbing pussy, he knew his destiny was to pleasure her and fill her fertile womb with his seed. He slowly, gently penetrated her with his thick cock. It was a feeling like he had never experienced, and yet felt he was meant for. So warm, so tight, and sticky-soft like honey. He could only get halfway in before Erika yelped, “Slow down, too big, too big!” He leaned over, halfway inside her, and kissed her gently on the forehead. He carefully eased all the way in, as Erika drew a deep breath through her teeth. Just as slow, he eased back out again. “Shit,” Jason grunted, “your pussy is so fucking tight.” He drew in and out, in and out, slowly but with increasing rhythm, as Erika writhed and moaned in pleasure. Looking down at her was a huge man, rippling, muscular arms tensed to brace his heavy weight. His face contorted into a wince of pleasure with his rhythmic thrusts as he felt her pussy clench around his stiff cock. Jason saw his powerful glutes at work in the mirror, and flexed a bicep as he thrust into Erika’s warm, tight, hole. He looked powerful, strong, masculine. Thousands of years of evolution had led to this moment, but in this moment, he was king. He was master. Erika screamed and twisted, and Jason felt the strongest clench yet around his thrusting cock. Instinctively, he knew he had made her cum. He continued plunging inside at that angle, thrust after thrust, until he felt her spasm of pleasure three more times. The pleasure in his own dick was growing by the second, unimaginable ecstasy combined with the powerful feeling that, of all available men, this woman chose him to penetrate her and fill her with his DNA. After three thrusts of incredible bliss, Jason tensed every muscle in his young, hulking body. He dove his dick as deep inside Erika as possible, and with a deep, guttural grunt, exploded inside of her. This was not like any orgasm he had ever had before. This time, he was fulfilling his destiny. With every throb of his powerful cock, he was pumping Erika’s fertile womb with his hot, sticky, essence. He could feel her pussy pulling him in deeper, as if to drink every last drop of his virile juices. Spent, Jason withdrew and Erika was left heaving on the bed. “Wow,” she muttered, “just, uhhhh…” Jason looked between her legs, still spread wide open. Her pussy was a deep red from his efforts, and he could see the smallest bit of white semen spilling out as she basked in the afterglow. “Damn,” he thought, “that’s my cum in her pussy.” For a brief moment, he panicked. Did he just ruin his life? But as he crawled back into the bed with Erika, he imagined his sperm swimming inside of the woman beside him, and he grew aroused once more. He imagined her young, feminine figure swollen with the result of his semen, his DNA, his child, and he secretly, in some deep, primal part of himself, wished it would happen. Maybe he got called “daddy” for a reason. It was his fate to pass on his powerful, strong genes. That was the primal urge he felt. The drive that every fiber of his virile body worked together to achieve. He knew in that moment, his large, hairy figure next to the exhausted woman he just fucked, her womb filled to the brim with his masculine essence so much it spilled out of her; This is what it feels like to be a man.

Also known as "Big Dan". This story dates from the 1990s, I believe. The first five original parts were written by Michael Yoder (myoder). TCCowboy wrote the sixth part. This version was preserved by fred2001, with slight corrections by me. Big Dan Part I Dan was a biker. He liked being on the open road and only took jobs when he needed the bucks for food or a good workout. His favorite jobs were construction and logging - anything that worked his huge muscles hard and helped him grow. He was a huge man and wanted to be even bigger! He was 35 years old stood 6'8" and weighed 480lbs. His neck was a thick 25" around and his shoulders spanned 38" across his back! His chest, thick with dark brown hair was an incredible 75". His biceps stretched the tape at 26" but he wanted them bigger. His hairy forearms measured 22" and his wrists were nearly 10" around. His waist was 36" and his abs jutted out like bricks. His thighs were an amazing 40" and his calves were blown to almost 29". He was a giant, totally powerful and totally in control. His hair shoulder length, thinning a little on top and he kept it brushed back, and he wore a mustache that framed his sneering lips. After one his construction jobs, Dan went down to a gym near the Italian district. The place was small, but he noticed the men coming out were big. He figured this would be a good place for him to pump up. He wandered into the small, dark gym and paid for a workout. He stripped into some shorts and immediately grabbed the heaviest weights he could find and started pumping. The other guys were astounded at Dan's incredible strength - warming up his arms with 200lbs! He pumped out 20 reps and put them down looking for bigger weights. He settled on 250lbs for another 20 reps. His arms were ripped and huge, but he wished they could be bigger. Then a guy came over and started talking with Dan. "Hey, big guy! You wanna get bigger?!" Dan put the weights down and looked over. This guy wasn't as tall as Dan - only 6'2", but he was big! He rivaled Dan in muscle size, and probably strength. He said his name was John. "Bigger than this?!" Dan said. "Yeah, Fuck man, I wanna be the fucking biggest freak around!" He flexed his pumped 26" biceps and grunted. "Fuckin' huge, man. You can make me bigger?" "Yeah," the guy said handing Dan 4 small blue pills. "Take one of these, workout for a while and you'll pump so huge you won't believe it. Forty bucks." Dan grabbed his wallet and paid the guy. "If this doesn't work, I'll pound your fucking ass man!" He swallowed one of the pills and started to bench press with 500lbs. He completed a few reps and suddenly felt dizzy. He put the weight back on the rack before it crashed onto his chest. The dizziness persisted for a moment, and then Dan felt a rush - like fire in his veins. The rush ran through his whole body as the steroid took effect. Then he felt a rush of power and grabbed the 500lb barbell. Now it felt like a toothpick! He hefted it up and down, pumping out 20 reps, 30 reps, 40 reps! "Not enough weight!" he shouted, jumping up from the bench. He grabbed another 500lb barbell and started doing curls with it! "Yeah! Fuck man, this is wild!" He watched in the mirror as his arms expanded before his eyes. The 500lbs was like nothing to him as his power increased with every passing second. He wanted more weight. He grabbed the leg press machine - loaded down with plates and lifted the whole thing over his head with a shout of power! He sneered at the puny men gathered round to watch this incredible feat. He pressed the 1500lbs of machine over his head like a toy! "BIGGER! FUCKIN' BIGGER!" He looked in the mirror and saw how his T-shirt was stretched tight over his massive and expanding muscle. The veins in his neck and arms were like thick ropes, Striations were bursting through his skin. His dick was getting bigger, too, he could feel it growing in his shorts which were stretched over his massive quads! He was mesmerized by his reflection and tossed the machine down with a tremendous crash! "Somebody measure me, man!" He held his gargantuan biceps up and flexed. His shirt sleeves tore away. He rolled his big pecs and the shirt ripped open falling to the floor in shreds. He flexed every muscle as the guys measured him. "Biceps - 30"; chest - 80"; waist - 40"; thighs - 40"; calves - 34"... Everyone gasped as Dan posed and flexed his superhuman body. He hit a most muscular pose and gritted his teeth looking like a wild man. His muscle was huge and cut. His dick started growing in his shorts, getting longer and thicker and the admiration he was getting was making it hard, too. He knew before long the shorts would give out. Then he pulled out the other pills and downed them all. "Don't!" John said. "You'll get too big!" With one massive hairy hand, Dan pushed John away as the pills took effect. The dizziness lasted a little longer than before, then the rush pressed through Dan's veins like a train. He looked in the mirror and watched as his body started to grow. The shorts fell away quickly as his thigh expanded and his dick sprang out - huge and hard as a rock! "MEASURE MY FUCKING COCK, MAN!" He bellowed. His voice was deeper and he felt like he was soon going to be the strongest and biggest man on the planet. "15 inches! and 11" around!" they gasped. Dan grinned knowing his dick was bigger than any of their puny ones. Even the largest guy couldn't have a cock harder and bigger than this horsedick - fuck even a horse couldn't! Dan walked over to a weight bench and grabbed four fifty pound plates. He flexed his rock hard cock a few times and then placed the plates one by one over the head of his massive dong. The weights stayed in place as his huge cock flexed. Two-hundred pounds lifted by this monster's prick! "FUCK, THAT'S HOT!' Dan bellowed, showing off the power of his mammoth dick. "JOHN, GET OVER HERE!" John came closer and Dan picked him up in one hand. The giant man, muscles bulging and still growing placed the 250lb man on his dick straddling the massive prick. Then Dan lifted John and the weights with his cock! 450lbs lifted by the muscle dick! "RIDE MY MUSCLE COCK!" Dan bellowed as he flexed John up and down. John grabbed onto Dan's mountainous hairy pecs and Dan threw his head back and laughed as he flexed them for John. John got so hot reveling in the power of Dan that his cock stiffened and he shot in his gym shorts. "FUCKIN' MUSCLE STUD!" Dan shouted. "I'M GETTIN' BIGGER BOYS. LOOK AT THIS!" He flexed his biceps and the peak rose up almost to his fist! His forearms were thick and hard. The triceps extended down in a mass of veins and his muscle was twisted and pumped. He lowered his arms although they sat out at a angle pushed out by his incredible lats. He had to be 3 feet thick! All muscle, all man! His chin rested on top of his pecs and when he flexed his huge hairy pecs, the striations looked about 2 inches deep, hair furrowed through the thick cords of muscle. His abdominals were like slabs of beef stretching over his gut and jutting out in a deep six-pack. His thighs were ripped and every muscle in his quads and calves were striated and thick. He turned around and spread his back. Even relaxed it was cut with mountains of muscle. His traps raised over his shoulders like twisted mountains of brutal flesh! His cock flexed and pulsed with his excitement as he grew bigger. "TIME TO MEASURE ME AGAIN!" he shouted. "EVERY FUCKIN' INCH!" They wrapped the tape around his obscenely huge muscles and called out the measurements. "Neck - 28"; chest - 90"; biceps - 37"; forearms - 30"; waist - 46"; thighs - 48"; calves - 38" Dan laughed as each measurement was read off. "Measure my dick, too" They taped it at 19" long and 14" around! "YEAH! YOU LITTLE GUYS EVER SEEN A REAL FUCKING MAN BEFORE!" Dan's muscle and power had peaked now and he was so hot he knew he was going to shoot off soon. In a burst of strength he gathered up the guys and sat them on top of a long bench. He lay under the bench and pressed it. It had to weigh 2000 lbs. He pumped out 30 reps without stopping and then stood up with the bench in his huge hands. He held it high overhead and started pumping more. His cock flexed with his inhuman strength and the guys were so turned on by his power they started jerking off too. Sweaty hard bodies all swarmed over Dan - like ants on a huge beast. Dan laughed insanely as these huge bodybuilders climbed on him! "WORSHIP THIS MUSCLE, YOU PUNY MEN! WORSHIP MY MASS AND POWER!" He stood still as they used his body like monkey bars, chin raises off his massive arms, pushing at his thighs trying to move them, straddling his 19" rock hard cock as he flexed it for them! Finally, they all started shooting hot loads all over Dan's body. Their total worship of his muscle got him hot. He flexed his cock, throbbing it more and more and shot a load that sprayed over all of them. He was the biggest man in the world, and this was going to be just the beginning of his adventures...

Two enterprising college kids think they can pay their way through school by showing off their ripped bods as part of a web cam business. When a company comes along offering them a ton of money for an hour's work, they learn that when an opportunity sounds too good to be true, you should always read the fine print. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The mattress springs were singing out their usual Thursday night chorus in Howie's apartment. That was the evening he and his friend Chase had free to get together and they rarely missed and opportunity to jump on each other. Chase gripped the bed posts as Howie pounded away in his tight hole. The two college students had found each other in the same modeling agency. That's how these two ripped guys were paying their way through school, at least that's how they had intended to pay the bills. College expenses were growing much more than they could bring in and it was becoming a real problem trying to stay out of debt. Yet for right now, neither of them were thinking about that as Howie's cock pounded away into his friend's tight hole. “UHUHUH..MMMmm” Chase moaned, while Howie continued pounding his rock hard cock into the bottom boy's prostate. Chase gripped the sheets with his hands as his toes curled. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Legs in the air, he bit his lower lip and thrust his ass forward in rhythm with his buddy's thrusts. It was hard to tell which boy was enjoying the sex more. Howie had ahold of Chase’s slender waist and pounded him back and forth, almost like a life sized flesh jack. Howie's eyes rolled back into his head as he reached his climax, unable to hold it in any longer. "Fuck I'm going to cum..." he groaned. He gave Chase one last hard thrust and grabbed him as hard as he could as he loaded his friend up with his cum. Chase followed suit and blasts Howie's ripped pecs with his jizz. They took a moment to breathe and let their heart beats slow down before Howie collapsed on top his naked friend. "Fuck that was hot…" Chase smiled in orgasmic bliss. He could feel his sexy friends hot spunk coating his insides. “Hehe.” He giggled, showing a crooked smile. “Every time!” Chase said, before kissing Howie on the cheek. “Now, slide off me so I can get cleaned up. We need to do that cam show or else we won’t have money for classes next semester. Do you still have that website address?” Since the two of them were on pretty intimate terms with each other already they had devised a scheme to go make money doing cam shows online. So far they had only made $1000 altogether and they each needed $5000 to keep from having to take out loans. But Howie had different plans. "Actually I was thinking we could do something a little different." Howie reached into his backpack and pulled out an ad he'd printed out from the net. "This company called Stretch Studios lets guys do cam shows in their studio and they can make five times as much as we make doing it here." He smiled. "Think about it, we could really make this work!" “Oh really??” Chase said, while perking up. He pushed himself up on his elbows, causing Howie to awkwardly slide against his chiseled torso due to the amount of jizz that was coating them both. “Like, what would we have to do then, big guy? I think we’ve already done everything BUT fuck on cam.” "I mean, I can't say that they wouldn't ask us to fuck each other but hey, this pays even more than the modeling. Nobody has to know. Camming isn't like porn. Only paid subscribers get to see it. And based on what they'd be paying us, I'll bet the fees are pretty high. I'll bet you no one even finds out we're doing it." Chase rolled his green eyes from side to side as he pretended to toss the idea around. Of course he was going to comply with his sexy partner, he just liked being extra like that. “Maaaybe.. But I should get to top you if it comes to that.” he joked, knowing damn well that Howie would never let anyone top him. “I mean, just in case my parents end up seeing it. I think they would take it better than seeing their son biting the sheets and taking a cock... even one as big as yours.” He grinned, scrunching up his face. "Top me huh? Someone's feeling fiesty." Howie said, pushing Chase on his back again. "If your parents are subscribed to this channel then I think they get what they get." He grinned. "I highly doubt they'll be clients." He was getting horny again. "So do you agree?" “Hey, it’s the internet.. you never know who will see it.” Chase grinned. “But yeah, I’ll do it.” He could feel Howie’s cock getting hard again, it was plumping up while pinned between his cheeks. That in turn was also making Chase start to get hard again. "Well... since we've no further business to discuss..." Howie licked his friend’s back and the mattress began to sing once more. In the next days the two of them sent in an inquiry to the company about whether they'd like to book a partnered performance and sent in their pictures. They got a reply within an hour and it blew them away. $3000 for each of them. That would put them more than half way toward their goal. The two made an appointment at studio for 10 AM on Saturday. It was for an hour session. Stretch Studios was about a 20 mile drive from campus. The morning they were scheduled to perform was cloudy as they walked up to the building. It was very large, almost like a hospital or something. They could hear the humming of strange equipment. "Wow this is more industrial than any camming studio I ever imagined." In truth, Howie hadn't imagined one at all. Chase looked around the spacious lobby. He could hear their footsteps echoing as the walked towards the front desk to check in. “You sure we aren’t about to have our organs harvested??” He looked over at Howie nervously. It was clearly a joke, but at the same time... The ceilings had to be over twenty feet tall. He wondered how big the room they would be camming in would end up being, if this was just the lobby. "I guess the camming business is more profitable than I thought." Howie said going up to the receptionist. Without introducing themselves he looked up and smiled. "Hey boys, lets see... Howie and... Chase right?" The two nodded. "My name’s Tim. We have a policy that if we can't recognize you by the pics you send then you can't do the job... unless of course you're hotter than your pics then we make an exception." He winked and pulled out two stacks of papers. "These are the liability waivers and the contracts. The amount each of you'll be paid for one session is highlighted here." They grinned, it was in fact $3000, signing something made it seem more official. The two were shown into their room which was surrounded by two way mirrors but inside was a bed, some chairs, workout equipment, and sex toys. "Whatever you decide to do, you should have enough toys to do whatever you want." He added, "Don't worry about where you are in the room. Unless you're under the bed there are cameras that will see you and focus in on what the operators think is important. The screens you see on the wall will give you feedback from your viewers.” “So we can do whatever we want?” Howie asked. “Well… yes of course you can it’s what your contract said.” Tim said, knowing full well that neither of them had read it. No one ever did. “But… since you guys didn’t get those good looks by reading let me break it down. It’s $3000 base pay for an hour plus $1 for every upvote you get, kind of like a dancer, you make money from tips. Only unlike social media, our clients have to buy the likes, and they can buy as many as they want. Our clients are a little spoiled, they type what they want to see and it appears on the screen if enough of them want the same thing. They usually don’t upvote unless they see what they like.” “Well…” Howie said, “Hopefully they don’t want us to blow our load too early.” “Well that can happen… and if too many of them get bored and log off, you don’t get paid for the entire hour.” Tim saw the look of despair on their faces. “Not to worry boys, as per your contract, we’ve got a special trick to keep you going strong the entire time. It’s up to you if you want to use it or not. Though it will pretty much hand over control of the show to the clients.” “I’m in...” said Chase. He didn’t want to blow this opportunity. He really needed that money. Howie nodded as well and Tim pulled out two little boxes that looked like they might contain jewelry. “Oh don’t worry, I’m already married.” Tim laughed, heading off a tedious joke he’d heard a million times. He handed them the boxes and in each one there was a small device the size of a small wine cork. They didn’t have to ask what they were supposed to do with it, but Tim figuring they were dumb as logs demonstrated it anyway with hand movements. “Have fun boys!” He waved walking out, closing a door that basically faded away to look just like the rest of the wall. “Huh.. No door knob on the inside. I guess we are here until the end of the session.” Chase smiled, looking over to Howie. “Should we get undressed or make them pay to get us that way? I’m not sure what their usual clientele are used to, maybe we should have checked out some feeds before we came today.” Chase looked around the room, it seemed like this company had thought of almost every possible thing a cammer would need to really give a good performance. "Well... I tried to look it up but the pay wall's insane. It's $10,000 a month or $2,000 for a session. I didn't feel like investing that much in our research. We'll just do it like we do in the dorm." Howie said, taking off his shirt. Suddenly there was a voice over the speakers. "Feed will be cut on in 5 minutes, please leave all of your clothes on until the clients pay to have them disposed of. Please insert the devices now." "That's an odd way to put it..." Howie muttered, pulling the t-shirt back on. "I guess we can make out and tease it." They each dropped their pants and helped each other shove the devices up each other’s holes. “I think I’ve heard of these things, they vibrate when someone donates. I hope we don’t have to fuck though,” he said feeling his awkwardly in his ass. “Seems like they would get in the...GNNNN.” Suddenly they both bent over double as the little machines began to vibrate and inch their way up inside of them somehow. The sensations were so powerful it brought them to their knees. “Fuck this thing went up past my prostate!” Chase shouted. Suddenly the screens turned on with a reminder to pull up their pants. A humming sound was activated somewhere in the building like a large machine had just been switched on. The countdown started as they made their way to the bed. 5...4...3...2...1… The two starting to stroke one another beneath their shirts and slid their hands in and out of their pants. "You're so fucking hot." Howie moaned. He knew the cam subscribers liked to hear sexy talk. Suddenly bells started to go off and they saw words flash on the screen. “KISS!” The devices in their asses began to vibrate and they felt an electric tingle going through their body. If they hadn’t been compelled to make out before, they REALLY wanted to now. “Can’t go wrong there!” Chase grabbed Howie by the shirt collar. “Pucker up, dude!” Chase said, then pressing his lips onto the jock. Instantly he could feel Howie’s tongue sliding past his own lips, which he was happy to reciprocate in return. The two hot boys started to get turned on as they continued playing tonsil hockey with each other. Chase’s underwear was getting snug as his dick got hard. It was much harder to not start ripping the clothes off Howie than he anticipated, he keep reminding himself that he was on a job. Then bells started going off again and a new word flashed on the screen. “PECS.” “Pecs?” Chase wondered, what did that mean. He didn’t have long to wait to find out. Their anal instruments vibrated again and their pecs began to feel the electric surge and suddenly their chests began to feel tighter, like the skin was stretching. Their pecs felt heavier. For some reason it took all of their will power to pull away from each other to check themselves out. “Holy shit what’s going on?” Chase shouted. “Fuck if I know!” Howie said grabbing his swolen pecs which pushed out his t-shirt more than he was used to. Then suddenly bells started going off in the room again and the screen flashed. “KISS! KISS! KISS!” With a quick series of vibrations from inside they felt their willpower to do anything but climb on top of each other and make out go away. The screen flashed “PECS ARMS SHOULDERS” and their cut torso’s began to swell with greater and greater definition. Their asses zinged with vibrations from the devices. Their meaty pecs continued to inflate, pressing against their skin tight t-shirts as the names of upper body muscles were popping up all over the screens. As much as they wanted to know what was happening, the occasional “KISS” command made them compelled to keep fencing with their tongues. Their t-shirts strained at the collar from bulging traps, delts, and pecs all pushing in opposite directions. Their sleeves were being strained to the extreme from their bulging biceps. It was just a matter of time until…. “RIIIIP” Their shirts fell apart from their gigantic upper bodies revealing bright red skin, a mixture of embarrassment and sexual flush. Yet they could not stop. As every single muscle in the torso was visibly undulating with their movements in a hypnotizing way. The bells rang on as the words on the screen were flashing “ASS ASS THIGH CALVE FEET ASS” The electrical sensations spread to their lower bodies as their cute bubble butts began to swell along with the rest of their lower halves. Their legs were quickly catching up to their chest and arms. Their asses were ripping the seams of their jeans, their feet were stretching their socks. Then suddenly the screen went wild with “COCK COCK COCK BALLS COCK COCK BALLS” and their junk started to swell and ache within the tight compartment they were confined in. Every time they pulled away from each other to re-adjust or see what was happening to them, the screen would flash “KISS” and they were compelled to press their muscular pecs together and lock lips. Howie felt his cock fighting to push out of the waistline of his pants but his swelling ass had made the gap impassible. Just when they felt like their balls were going to be crushed, their jeans gave way. Revealing absurdly stretched briefs. Their cocks quickly pushed up from the elastic. Soon it was apparent that the ball people had outbid the cock growth fans and the screen was just flashing “BALLS BALLS BALLS BALLS BALLS”. Chase felt his sack stretch as his meaty tennis balls popped out from either leg hole in his briefs. Howie’s had both popped out of the left side. Cum gushed from their emergent, veiny cocks as they rubbed into each other. With their balls swelling to the size of melons, drying up was not going to be a problem. A rich client from Texas had had enough. He paid four thousand dollars to control the board for thirty seconds. He was tired of those clingy briefs. The screen in the studio just read, “ASS QUADS ASS QUADS ASS QUADS KISS KISS” As they were glued together in a passionate embrace, they felt their bulbous glutes and quads vibrate so large that one by one the elastic on their desperate briefs snapped. Howie managed to find the mental strength to reach down and pull away the shattered remnants of his undies. Chase ground his groin into his massive friend until the last shreds of his briefs sluffed off like a cum soaked rag. They were gigantic, 350 lbs of muscle sandwiching two 14’’ cocks creaming up two perfectly sculpted chests. Suddenly the word, “NIPPLE” appeared. Followed by “NIPPLE PLAY”. Howie blew a jet of cum from the sensation of his nipples doubling, then tripling in size. He felt his hands reaching up to explore Chase’s which were growing as well. Returning the favor, his partner’s hand touched his own, and the sensation was so intense he shot so hard it splashed their chins. Their nipples were more sensitive than they’d ever been and with tongues down each other’s throat they both groaned in bliss. “HOWIE SUCK CHASE’S NIPPLE” Clearly someone with a new fetish had taken the reigns. As Howie lowered his face to those meaty pecs and licked and worshiped Chase’s right nipple. Chase moaned in bliss as he continued to tweak his friend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twenty miles away, back on campus a group of rich Frat boys at Alpha Sigma Sigma were bored and wondering how to kill some time. “You know what would be fun bro, there’s this crazy website where you can pay to do weird shit to some cam boys. Like anything you want to them. Wouldn’t it be dank to get on there and totally screw with the fags? No homo.” “I dunno bro, sounds pretty gay…” “Come on brah, it’ll be fun.” After some token resistance so that they could all talk about how straight they were, they all agreed and logged in. To their shock they found that they recognized the cam stars. Not from the camera feed, their bodies were too changed for that, but from the pictures on the side that showed what they originally looked like. “What the fuck dude it’s Howie and Chase… weren’t those the guys who came and got those ho’s who we were trying to get wasted the other day?” “Yeah… dude…”, said Trey. He had an unlimited credit card to use on ‘books’ and ‘meals’ that got autopayed by their parents. “Lets have some fun my bros.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back in the studio Chase was sucking Howie’s cock while tweaking his nipples, making the massive cam star go nuts. “Fuck Chase, what’s...gnnnnn… fuck…. happening… to us…” He was covering Chase’s face with spunk, as his massive cock gushed like a hose. Their spines had stretched as they had grown six inches taller since the beginning of the session. Suddenly the screen flashed with a new command. “EAT ASS” Howie felt the vibration compelling him to shove is face in between Chase’s giant ass cheeks. Chase groaned as he felt the tongue on his ass. When the bells started to ring, “ASS ASS ASS”. Howie could feel those monster glutes swelling around his face, unable to pull away as the giant ass grew out of proportion. Chase could hardly control himself as he reflexively squeezed his friend’s head. Someone was using the option to control them separately. “69 69 69 69 69 69” The screen flashed again and again. They mounted each other with their faces at pec level, since that’s where both of their massive cock heads were, unable to stop each other from blasting each other in the face with massive amounts of jizz. The volume of cum was so much that they could barely get their lips around each other’s slits as they tried to drink the flood of jizz. “CHASE FUCK HOWIE” Their asses vibrated with the new command. Howie couldn’t help himself as he thrust his ass in the air as Chase’s giant cock head pressed against that hole that had never taken a cock before. “God… please be gentle…” Howie muttered as the thick monster pushed its way inside of him. “UGNNNNNN” Howie groaned as his ass was stretched beyond anything he’d ever imagined. “HARDER HARDER HARDER” The screen flashed. Chase couldn’t help himself as he railed Howie against the bed. “FUCK FUCK FUCK” he grunted, spraying his friend’s insides with his jizz. Howie bit the pillow, unable to do anything but take it. “BELLY” Chase saw the command flash on the screen, wondering what it could mean. Howie’s gut distended a little as Chase went to down on his ass like he was churning butter. “BELLY BELLY BELLY” Those perfect abs faded as Howie’s gut began to swell out of control. “Fuck… gnnnn… what’s… fuck… happening…” He wrapped his muscular arms around that inflating belly balloon as the screen just kept flashing “BELLY” Soon his gut was so enormous that it was lifting him up off the bed and he couldn’t even wrap his arms around it. “PEC MILK PEC MILK PEC MILK” Howie felt his nipples growing even more as his pecs swelled until they were full and squishy. Chase bent over and squeezed them, causing thick milk to ooze out of them. “Fuck! Make it stop!” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “BRENT!” A voice shouted down the hall from the study, causing Brent Masterson to check the latest Wall Street Journal article. His wife burst in. “I just got an odd alert from Trey’s credit card. It’s showing over $20,000 for something called Stretch Studios! You think it’s fraud?” “Oh definitely,” he replied. “Doesn’t sound like something our son would do. Shut the account down and call them so we can get our money back. The number’s on the back.” His wife went to leave and then paused. “What are you doing all shut up in here?” “Oh… just taking a break from doing our taxes… so dull… can you handle the credit card for me?” “Sure sweety, you’re so smart with numbers.” She said walking out of the room. After the door shut behind him, Brent said to himself. “So that’s who’s been messing up my show… game over son.” He said as he switched back to the cam. “When you get your own money you can play with the big boys. Now lets fix my studs.” He paused for a moment and thought “Not everything you did was bad.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The screen flashed “CUT ABS SLIM ABS RIPPED ABS ABS ABS ABS” as Howie felt his gut shrinking back to a trim fit waist. Bells were ringing frantically. “GROW GROW GROW” Howie felt his entire body stretching as Chase continued to mount him and Milk his pecs. He was swelling, bigger and bigger. Seven feet, eight feet, nine feet. He could feel Chase’s nipples rubbing against his stretching skin as he seemed like a child in comparison and still Chase hung on and fucked away. Howie outgrew the bed, crushing it under his muscular two thousand pound body as Chase had to wrap his arms around under his shoulders to continue squeezing his pecs. He topped out at twelve feet, as tall as a one story house when the screens went dark, the strange humming sound dissipated, and the vibrations in the ass came to a screeching halt. The hour was over. Chase was gasping on Howie’s back, his face nestled between mounds of muscle. “Fuck Howie… how do we get back to the way we were?” “I… I guess they use the thingies inside us to turn us back.” Suddenly the door opened and Tim walked in the room clapping. “Bravo boys, you did so well!” “So… uh… can we go back to the way we were now?” Howie said. “Of course my dears, you just have to outbid the people who changed you.” He pulled up a tablet. “As per your contract, use of the body modification unit is solely doled out to paying customers. Howie you can go back for $56,000 and Chase you can revert for $42,000.” “But we don’t have that kind of cash!” They shouted. Tim smiled. “Well… I know how you could earn it.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If you liked this story, let me know. Hit "like" or leave a comment. Your feedback is how I know what gets you guys revved up.

Calling Adrianna Stone a phenomenon simply did not do her body justice. She has completely and effortlessly dwarfed even the most muscular and freaky male heavyweight bodybuilders for the last 25 years. She was hulked to the max, sitting at around 400lbs in the offseason. There were multiple men, mainly strongmen competitors, who weighed the same or more than she did. But they were all also usually at least 6" taller, and her 6 foot tall body was much, MUCH more musclebound and better proportioned. She was gaining more mass every year, losing maybe only 20 pounds during her competition prep, always retaining her muscular gains.Every muscle in her body was overstuffed and straining for more growth- and so was her clit. At 8 inches long, it was bigger than some men's penises. Adrianna was a cougar personified. At 50 years old, she spent many nights after her competitions having the young studs and muscle-barbies she'd demolished try to please her insane libido. She was a massive, ultra-muscular behemoth of strength and size, and the entire world looked upon her in awe and lust. The entire human race worshiped the ground she walked on, with a tinge of fear. Tonight though, she was earnestly worshipping the monstrous muscles of the sole exception to that rule. Julia Ingrisano has turned 18 last month. She was beautiful without comparison; sparkling mischief-filled green eyes, silky smooth firey red hair, a dazzling white smile, high, rosy cheeks and kissable, red bee-stung lips. All perfectly placed on her angelic face. Her complexion was near perfect, her Irish and Italian heritages giving her a skin a healthy, soft golden glow, along with freckles dotted around her cute button nose. She fit the expression "face painted by God," to a tee. Julia was also a monster. Despite being just over 5 feet tall, this gorgeous beauty queen carried more than three times Adrianna's already unbelievable mass. Today was leg day, and Julia was doing back squats. She had borrowed a bulldozer from a construction site, and had it balanced across shoulders that were almost twice as wide as she was tall. Adrianna couldn't fit her arms around even one of Julia's gargantuan calf muscles, let alone her thighs. Thighs that swelled larger by inches with every strained rep that Julia pumped out. Erotic, lust filled moans filled the air around the construction site. Every sound from the mega-muscled teen distracting the workers from their jobs as they all stopped to watch this behemoth bulk her muscles up to an even larger more massive size. Adrianna's hands were desperately fondling Julia's monolithic wall of abs. They withered crazily with every breath. Even this freak's individually sliced obliques made Adrianna's gigantic pecs look malnourished. "Get bigger ," breathlessly whispered Adrianna. Julia was shaking from effort. At the apex of her final squat, she let out a high pitched shriek as she powered the machine up over head and began shoulder pressing the bulldozer again and again. Before Adrianna's adoring eyes, this super-human teen muscle-goddess began to add even more breadth to her delts, and lats. Her medicine ball sized pecs eclipsed her face completely, swelling to the size of bean bag chairs. Her traps and shoulders had long since risen above her head, squeezing around it with every press. "Fuuuck." Adrianna had tears and mascara running down her face as she watched this impossible muscle-goddess swell even larger. "I want you even bigger," Adrianna breathed. "You'll never be too massive for me. Grow for me..."Julia let out a earthshaking grunt as her pussy squirted her love juices with a terrifying force that forced Adrianna to her knees. She could have filled a bathtub with her juices. The scent of her musk sending the construction workers into a frenzy, more than a few fell into a lust-fueled coma. Adrianna had an orgasm as well. With her record-setting muscle, and giant fake tits, she was a well known porn-star- but barley worth mentioning next to Julia's titanic size, tremendous beauty and cosmic sexual energy.Julia kept military-pressing the giant bulldozer through her seemingly endless string of continuous orgasms. Her model shaming face twisted in a mix of pain and pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head as her juices flowed down massive jutting quads and hamstrings.After several minutes, her pussy-lips stopped throbbing, just a little. She shifted the bulldozer into just her right hand, and continued pressing it. Mind-blowing shoulders creaked even broader and higher, her head now smooshed up against them even at the bottom of the reps. Julia was grimacing- or grinning? "Can't stop growing," she whispered softly. Her flood gates opened again, a pool of cum now forming around Adrianna who had fallen unconscious at the sight of such overwhelming size. "What a pity," thought Julia. "I'm just starting to feel the pump." The absurdly muscular beast that was Julia Ingrisano was only just getting started. *This is an adapted shorty story from @powerfulbodies (now deactivated) tumbler account. All credit for the plot is his!

Hi all, here's the first part of my second story: Entelechy. It's quite different from my first, Control; this story is set in futuristic universe. I won't spoil the details, but suffice it to say that I have conceived of the world in this story as a realistic future for humanity. It'll have plenty of growth, muscle worship and all that lovely stuff, alongside plenty of exploration of the psychology of muscle addiction, but some of the exposition is also designed to be thought-provoking about society, politics and what the future may hold. If you're more interested in the muscle, then fear not - you won't be disappointed! But if you like to be challenged, this story will have a little bit extra for you. Part 1 doesn't have much growth; it's largely outlining our main character. But there will be a hell of a lot of muscle to come, I can tell you that. Entelechy: a word used by Aristotle, 'the state of something that is fully realised'. ---- Entelechy: Part 1 He stood amongst the heaving crowd, almost suffocated by the thronging masses. Blessed with neither notable height nor width, the Youth struggled to get a glimpse of the public screen. There was a ripple through the crowd; a fortunate shift in its arrangement afforded him an unbroken line of sight to watch the spectacle unfold. The screen - an anachronism, since it was actually a one-dimensional holographic projection - showed the Emperor seated upon the Eternal Throne. Clad in his usual impenetrable attire (mask, robes and cloak of black and red), he contrasted with the white, gold and ocean blue of the Throne. A ceremonial guard of Imperial Guardsmen, great staves held straight, lined the gilded walkway leading to the Throne. A number of attendants - various High Councillors and military officials - were clustered around the Throne. The crowd held its breath as the camera panned to show the great entrance doors to the Throne Room, which silently slid open to reveal an alien, surrounded by five Guardsmen arranged in a pentagon around him. The alien looked somewhat reptilian, dressed in fine armour...but the splendour did not conceal the humiliation readable in its posture. “And there he is,” continued the commentator, “Val’syth, Sovereign of the now-subjugated Farith Empire, come to pay homage to our Immortal Emperor.” The people around the Youth jeered at the defeated alien monarch, as his party walked towards the Throne. The camera panned behind them, showing the alien trudging towards the Emperor, who sat unmoved and impassive. The Guardsmen, and the alien, came to a halt at the base of the dais upon which the Throne sat. Two Guardsmen then tore off Val’syth’s ornate armour, throwing it to the floor, followed by his undergarments. In mere moments he stood naked before the Emperor. The crowd’s jeering came to a tense tense halt as they watched the defeated alien stand motionless...before erupting into jubilant cheers as he prostrated himself before the Emperor, forehead touching the cold metal floor. “And there’s the proskynesis, the ceremonial submission before the Emperor,” resumed the commentator. “The act symbolises...” He zoned out the both commentator and the cheers. He did belong amongst these mindless automatons who went about their life. He was different. He couldn’t quite place how, only that he was. He did not fit in the Grand Society; its norms and expectations were…restrictive to him. He would not - could not - conform. Instead, he would leave them all in the dust, revelling in his excess. Let the rebellion begin, he thought to himself. *** He had never felt like he belonged. Not quite ostracised from the Society, but not quite part of it either. In creating the Society three centuries ago, the Emperor had adopted an effective organising framework: within set boundaries, you were free to do what you wished - but cross those boundaries, and the Society exiled you. Moderation was the ruling tenet: most ‘vices’ were acceptable, in moderation. Sex, drink, food, drugs, partying; as long as you kept the habits under control, it was not the Society’s concern. But indulge them to excess, and the Society would quickly sanction you. Assuming the legal order of the Society didn’t formally intervene to redeem you, that is. But that moderation did not appeal to him. It was stale, lifeless - mass-produced. Moderation was easy, and boring. Where was the joy in moderation? Throughout his teenage years, this internal conflict had grown and festered, eventually crystallising into a need to break free, to rebel. His first act upon completing school had been to leave his home city of Copenhagen, crossing the sea to the much-larger Capital - the Eternal City. With a population of 25 million, it was the largest city on Terra. Surely he’d find ways to rebel there? The Society quickly provided him with an apartment (all housing was state-provided, of course), and he’d settled in, but then things had...stalled. Wanting to rebel was all well and good, but how does one go about actually doing it? He’d tried the Lower City, where all the ‘cultural establishments’ were. It had been fun at first, immersing himself in the permanent carnival-atmosphere of the clubs and bars, but it soon became clear that they too all worshipped at the altar of Moderation. He could have over-indulged in drink, drugs and sex but that was not rebellion - that was self-destruction and would achieve nothing. No, he had to be more subtle in his rebellion - and thus pose a far greater challenge to the Society. Undermine the tenet of Moderation, and be revered for it. Excess. But again: how? Within weeks of arriving he felt as lost as ever, his ‘rebellion’ failing before it could even get started. It was depressing. He felt lonely and dejected. Perhaps this rebellion had, afterall, been a stupid idea borne of an immature mind. He could’ve got a job, perhaps (almost all menial or simple work was done by robots, but there were still plenty of jobs where a human touch was liked), but he felt no need to; the Basic Income more than covered his needs. Thus it was that the Youth found himself wandering into a new establishment he had not yet visited, seeking inspiration. He was startled to realise he’d stumbled into a male orgy club, decorated like a Classical symposium: low couches and tables, carved stone columns and walls decorated with reliefs. A statue of Apollo and Hyacinthus, their hands intertwined, stood in the centre. He could make out another floor above. The patrons, in varying degrees of intoxication, were engaging in passionate group sex on the sumptuous couches. He walked through the establishment, studying the men he passed. All conventionally attractive and identically built in the Society’s ideal: athletic and toned, but not muscular or ponderous. Lithe, graceful: a useful body. The Youth himself had such a body. Some of the older men were more saggy, but still fit. This was, of course, simply the old Classical ideal...as part of the Society’s construction, many of the values and ideas of the Ancients had been studiously revived and systematically applied. None of the men interested him. It was not that they were unattractive, but rather they screamed moderation. There was nothing deviant about them; body, hairstyles, clothes (where worn). Even this orgy was moderation; he doubted any of the patrons attended more than a couple of times a month. Everywhere was order; the establishment was a Temple to Self-Control. Credit to the Emperor, the Youth thought. His Society works. Further into the establishment, there were numerous warmly-lit alcoves for more intimate encounters. They were likewise filled with oh-so-boring Servants of Moderation. He had just about given up hope of finding any trace deviance when he glanced into the final alcove. His breath caught in his throat and his stomach fluttered. At last. Seated in the alcove was the biggest man the Youth has ever seen. Not in terms of height (he was ordinary in that regard), but of width. Of mass. Of muscle. His body hung heavy with bulging muscle; he was no longer athletic. No, most of that muscle was useless. An obstacle to human grace. It was instead the body of excess. A Servant of Moderation straddled the man’s crotch, taking his manhood inside of him, while he ravenously devoured the man’s flexed arm, savouring the swollen muscles with lips and tongue. The man’s head was thrown back in pleasure, eyes closed, softly moaning. The Youth was rooted to the spot as a curious rush flowed through his mind. It was as if the disparate pieces of a previously hidden jigsaw puzzle had suddenly come together, inspired by the man of excess before him. In an instant, the fog cleared and his path became clear. The man of excess had shown him the way to rebel - how to subvert the Society. The next morning, he changed his gym routine.

Hi all, this is my first bash at putting up a story. Part 1 is a little on the short side, but serves as the introduction. I write primarily for fun, but enjoy the process (when writer's block doesn't strike, that is) - so any and all feedback is very much appreciated. Part 1: The Hunger He can't stop growing. Not that he wanted to, of course. He was addicted. It always ends up that way. The hunger is dormant at first, biding its time. Like many appetites (or should I say addictions?), it requires a trigger - a first taste. That first taste of muscle is like nothing else after; it stays with him forever. Often it’s a cartoon, featuring some character growing more muscular. Depending on the when he first imbibes, it may not even arouse him...merely intrigue - fascinate - him, for reasons he can’t yet grasp. But the hunger is awakened, and over time it starts to make itself known. Almost subconsciously, he will begin to seek out more. The hunger is insidious, and insatiable. Inevitably, it enslaves them. With each indulgence, it only grows more voracious. Stories of growth are joined by videos of bodybuilders; but the hunger soon demands more. He then joins a gym, and starts to grow, clothes tightening and giving way. Yet still the hunger is not satisfied. Each fall, deeper and deeper into the addiction, is easier to stomach than the last. It starts becoming easier to embrace the hunger. At first he resists the allure of steroids, but that resistance falters when the growth slows. As it happens, the ones who resist tend to perform the best; those who give in early often self-destruct, which just cuts short the pleasure. Inevitably, he succumbs to the promise of more, and faster, growth. Another fall. It will be followed by more - stacking numerous drugs, again and again. By this point, the hunger is all that’s left. Day and night revolve around feeding it. Such an innocent beginning. Such a glorious end. *** He is wanking furiously, pleasuring himself with dreams of enormity. His pecs - heaving as he grunts and groans - are so bloated he can’t reach his arm around to properly grasp his cock, forcing him to violently buck his hips. The chair is smothered by his mass, and creaks ominously with each thrust. His grotesquely swollen body glistens with sweat from the exertion (it’s hard work moving that much mass), filling the screen through which I watched him. He is monstrous. He is beautiful. His face - which looks comically small and awkwardly placed atop his body - is the sole remaining physical hint of what he once was. Boyishly handsome, dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Even contorted in pleasure - as much mental as physical - he remains handsome. That face is all that’s left of the days when he was a mere 120lbs at 5’7”. Today, he tipped the scales at 287lbs. I gave him a smile, to show I was happy with how far he’d come. “You’ve grown into quite the big boy!” I comment. He thrusts and groans as he hears my compliment. Something in the chair breaks. His shoulders are too broad to fully fit in the screen, and with each stroke of his hand striations ripples across the deltoid heads. His arms are swollen with power, each the size of his head, with the intersections of the deltoids and biceps etched in stone. My mouth salivates at the sight of them. Below the pec shelf, so heavy it sags, comes his rock-hard abdomen, with eight thick abdominal blocks carved in splendid relief, as if my a master sculptor. Framing his engorged manhood are splayed quads thicker than my waist (by several inches), the hugely overdeveloped heads of muscle flexing slightly with each buck of his hips. Between his moans - and dreams of being so much bigger - he manages to whisper: “More...please, more…” I cock my head teasingly, pretending not to have heard him. In truth, though, his question has deeply affected me. Tears almost come to my eyes. I can’t help but admire the hundreds of pounds of perfect, beautifully overgrown muscle desperately fighting for space on his tortured body. He has pushed it hard, punishingly so...but it did the only thing it could do: balloon, and balloon, and balloon, with muscle. He can easily go further. How much further? I don’t know. But we both want to find out. Poor boy. So desperate, and oh so so hungry. He’s gone so far. “Please!” he pleads, he begs, between frantic thrusts. His eyes crying out to me. “Make me bigger!” It’s curious. He knows he’s a freak, a monster. And yet, he doesn’t. He sees the great mountains of muscle he has grown, but doesn’t quite comprehend them. He never thought he could come so far, but he cannot imagine stopping now. It’s a vicious - or perhaps virtuous, depending on your viewpoint - cycle. Growth simply spurs the desire - the need - for more. A feedback loop of transitory pleasure. Each fix sets the stage for the next. It does not end. But that is what makes it oh so glorious. I smile again, a tear flowing this time. Such a beautiful, eager boy. He is a wonder to behold. “I think that can be arranged,” I reply. He explodes.

I know it's been a long time and frankly, I haven't been inspired to write very much. However, I recently received a message from someone on this site with a idea for a new story. As we chatted, I started to get an idea. Once I started writing, I realized the potential these ideas had. All that being said, I think this might be my best story yet but I'll let you be the judge. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Introducing Jacob... High School Chapter 1 It was the first day of senior year and Jacob wasn’t looking forward to it. It would be his first day at a new school for the third time in five years. Thanks to his dad getting yet another new job, he was starting all over once again. Not that Jacob really minded. He didn’t have many friends from his old schools to miss and wasn’t really looking to make new ones either. He had only one real priority, becoming as big as humanly possible. Jacob was undeniably the biggest 18 year old on the planet and if he wasn’t, he was certainly well on his way to becoming the biggest. Ever since he was elementary school, Jacob was obsessed with building muscle. It immediately became an obsession and consumed most of his time. When he wasn’t lifting huge weights, he was devouring insane quantities of food. His parents happily supported his choice because it made their many moves easier, as long as they moved his weights, Jacob never complained. By the time he started junior high, Jacob could lift weights only veteran bodybuilders dreamed they could. In fact, to compare Jacob to a bodybuilder would be inaccurate, he desired to become something beyond what the most decorated professionals could ever dream of obtaining. He would scour the internet trying to find someone that had achieved the level of mass he was determined to obtain. Even freaks like Craig Goliath and Big Ramy were too small and weak to Jacob. He often turned to skillfully crafted morphs and artwork of fictional muscular giants just to get additional motivation. Jacob woke up at 5 a.m. this morning so he could workout for two hours before school. He was dreading having to be stuck in class instead of spending the entire day working out. In the month since they had moved in, Jacob had done little else but lift. Aside from the odd trip to the grocery store, he hadn’t spent any time exploring his new town. Stepping out of the shower, Jacob couldn’t help but admire his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He knew he would be the biggest kid at school but he didn’t care, to him, he was still too small. He dropped his towel and slowly raised his arms into a magnificent double bicep pose. He let out a low moan as he reached the full flex. He marvelled at his swollen biceps. He measured them after his gruelling workout at 22”. While he cursed himself about the number not being 24” earlier, he could not deny at this moment, his arms looked downright freaky attached to his 18 year old face. After a minute holding the pose, his arms were shaking but as more thick veins appear on his paper-thin skin, he couldn’t stop flexing. In his mind, he envisioned his arms surpassing his 28” waist. It was only moments later that he released the pose to grab hold of his raging cock. His intense muscle-lust coupled with his teenage sex drive resulted in this scene quite often. As Jacob stoked his cock, he caressed his bloated pecs. He kneaded the thick slabs of beef as the individual muscle fibres twitched and flexed. At 56”, his massive pecs cast a long shadow over his chiselled ads. With one final flex of his entire upper body, Jacob unleashed a thick stream of cum all over the mirror. “Fuck, this school won’t believe their eyes” he said as he cleaned off some stray cum from his pecs and abs. Jacob gabbed a clean tank top and audibly struggled to get it over his wide shoulders and lats. Even thought he tank was only a couple of weeks old, it already looked to be stretched to its limits. Next, he grabbed a very short pair of shorts that looked more like boxer briefs than outer wear. Jacob may not have cared wheat people thought of his body, but he certainly didn’t mind showing it off. After fixing his hair in the mirror, Jacob hit a mild most muscular pose. He heard a seam pop on his tank top and decided it was best to get going before he had to find something else to wear. During his 10 minute walk to school, Jacob consumed two huge protein shakes and ate five protein bars. Just before he reached the front door, he looked down at his exposed quads and calves. He was immediately transfixed by the incredible pump his calves had gotten from the walk. He stopped to flex his left calf and couldn’t help moan as it swelled to a mind-boggling 21”. Thick rope-like veins covered every inch. He couldn’t help but run is hand over his outrageously massive quad, stopping to squeeze the bloated tear-drop muscle that literally hung over his tiny kneecap. “Ok, enough of that. Time to prepare for the main event.” He said to himself as he opened the school main door and stepped inside. “Holy Shit!” “Oh my god!” “Look at that FREAK!” “Gross, that’s so DISGUSTING” Just a few of the comments Jacob heard before he was 10 feet into the building. One guy walked into an open locker door and hit his head pretty hard. With a confident smirk on his face, Jacob walked down the hall searching for his homeroom class. These reactions were nothing new to Jacob. In fact, he had learned to feed off them years ago. Next to using his insane strength and pumping his muscles well beyond their limits, seeing people freak out over his size was Jacob’s favourite thing. The first time he was called a freak really upset him. But as it continued to happen and with increased frequency the more he grew, Jacob realized that it meant he was starting to achieve his dream of becoming a true mass monster. The more disgusted people became the more motivated and quite frankly, aroused he became. Soon, Jacob wasn’t satisfied unless people became physically sick at the site of him. He loved cumming while replaying people’s over-the-top comments in his head. He also fantasied about getting those same reactions in the presence of the biggest professional bodybuilders. Imagining Big Ramy puking just at the sight of his unflexed body caused Jacob to cum the most. By the time he found his classroom, news of the freaky huge new kid had spread to all corners of the school. As he stepped through the door, all talking stopped. Jacob surveyed the room of his slack-jawed school mates as he slowing made his way to the back of the room. Everyone stared in awe but no one dared to make a sound. The teacher looked confused when he walked in to a full room of silent teenagers. It wasn’t until he looked to the back of the class that he figured out why. “Oh my! You must be Jacob!” He stammered. “They said you were big but I didn’t expect so much-“ “Huge, freaky muscle?” Jacob interrupted. The teacher’s mouth remained open, but words stopped coming out. A minute later, he had regained enough composure to instruct the class to find their seats. After the students were seated, the teacher looked to the back of the room to see Jacob still standing. “Um-please find a seat.” He said to Jacob. “Sorry Teach but I don’t think these desks are made for someone like me.” “Please sit.” The teacher said, trying to sound authoritative but it came out sounding scared and timid. Jacob shook his head and tried to sit at the nearest desk. The entire class turned their heads and watched as the massive boy struggled to get seated. Loud creaks filled the room as Jacob’s massive body wedged itself into the seat. The desks were the table-top seat combos that offered very little in the way of adjustment. Jacob could barely fit his meaty quads in the gap between the seat and the desk. He tried for close to 30 seconds before becoming frustrated. Suddenly his fist slammed down on the top of the desk, cracking it instantly. Jacob then gripped the wooden desk and plastic seat and started to pull. His already bloated body exploded in size. There were audible gasps from the class. Jacob adjusted his grip and let out a low roar and pulled harder. With seemly little effort, the plastic seat was torn off the metal frame of the desk. Jacob tossed the seat and repositioned his hand on the metal frame. There was a load groan of screeching metal and the frame started to bend. Jacob’s arms visibly inflated and each individual muscle fibre leap into action. Jacob’s ridiculously wide back appeared to double in size as he continued to bend the metal frame like it was wet pasta. With one final grunt and tug, Jacob stood straight up and the desk disintegrated around him. He stepped out of the pile of desk parts and placed his hands on his hips. “Told you the desk wasn’t made for this body.” He said and slowly flexed into a front lat spread. Slowly his lats expanded until they jutted three feet from his sides. They only stopped swelling when they made contact with his equally massive arms and forearms. Next, his pecs rose upward and outward. Deep striations and countless veins snaked across they surface. Even under the tight tank top fabric, veins could been seen pulsing. Finally, Jacob’s traps rose up either side of his neck as his quads and calves flexed so huge, there was barely any separation between them. At full flex, Jacob could hear loud screams and gags from the students in the room. Many had to look away in horror while others were clearly mortified at the sight they could not stop watching. Jacob turned to look a the teacher who was visible shaking and leaning against his desk to stop himself from collapsing on the floor. “Oh my god! Please stop!” the teacher muttered. “Sorry teach, I couldn’t hear you. Did you say come up the front of the class and show everyone just how insanely massive I am?” Jacob replied and slowly made his way towards the front of the class. It’s fair to say, Jacob always moved slowly, due mainly by the size of his quads. To even call how he moved walking was inaccurate; Jacob waddled. Arriving at the front of the class, Jacob turned to face the class. He pointed to a skinny kid sitting in the first row and motioned for him to approach. Jacob raised his arms and leaned forward. “Strip off this tank top. It’s pretty new and the only shirt I have. I want to try to make it last the whole day.” The poor kid was shaking like a leaf. “Come on dude. My lats are WAY too big for me to get this off myself. Don’t worry, I won’t bite; unless I get hungry.” Jacob said with a chuckle. Slowly the kid started to peel the skin tight tank top up Jacob’s back. When it was halfway up Jacob was growing impatient. “SOMEONE HELP HIM!” he yelled. Another petrified student joined the first kid and within seconds the tank top was pulled over Jacob’s head. Once free, he slowly stood back up and the class was confronted by his exposed upper body and a new wave to terrified screams filled the room. “This is what a 267lb 18 year old looks like. I’m only 5’8” but getting pretty close to being just as wide as that.” Jacob said and started to hit flawless poses each one accompanied by grunts, moans and exaggerated gasps. “No 18 year old has 22” arms, 18” forearms, 56” pecs and a tiny 28” waist. Not to mention some of the biggest quads on the planet. Check out these 32” quads and 21” calves.” “So Gross!” Someone yelled out. “Gross? You think all this muscle is gross. You know what I think it is? SMALL. I’m plan to doubling this size in a couple of years!” Jacob said. He was breathing hard from hitting the different poses but saved the best for last. He extended his pumped left leg and leaned closer to the class. He slowly bent his arms and started to hit a most muscular pose. His already blood-filled body exploded in every direction. Jacob showed incredible muscle control and he willed each muscle group to flex and expand. His arms slammed into his flexed pecs as his shoulders solidified into pumpkin-sized striated bolders. His vein-covered traps rose to graze his ears as his neck thickened to become wider than his head. He tightened his already rock-hard abs so each developed muscle resembled the density of bricks. His shorts could not contain the monstrous beef of his quads and rose up so high it looked like a posing suit. Even with his legs spread apart, Jacobs calves looked like they were about to touch each other. At full flex, Jacob’s entire body was shaking. His skin now covered in the light layer of sweat which made his outrageous vascular look even more extreme. He let out a glass-shaking roar and he somehow continued to flex. Through gritted teeth he screamed “I’m not stopping until someone either pukes or passes out.” Most of the kids were screaming and covering their eyes. A few looked like they were ready to faint and more than one of the boys held their hands over their obvious erections. Still not seeing what he desired most, Jacob let out another scream as his flexed muscles were starting to cause him pain. A pain that pushed him to flex even harder. He slowly turned to face the teacher, who was cowering behind his desk. With one laboured step Jacob moved closer. He could see the terror in the teacher’s face. “DO IT!” He commanded and within seconds, the teacher bent over and puked all over the top of his desk. He stood up and stumbled back, slamming into the chalkboard before collapsing on the floor. As Jacob relaxed his pose he smiled as he realized the teacher had a large wet stain on the front of his pants. His recently spent erection was clearly still rock-hard. Jacob tuned to face the class once more. He picked his tank top off a nearby desk and waddled towards the back of the class. “Is homeroom over yet?”

Synopsis: Aron is an 18 year-old muscle obsessed college freshman who masturbates to muscular guys online. His favorite videos to watch are those of The Muscle Gut Club, four muscle gods who make a living sharing their size and strength with the online world. Steven is a muscle obsessed college junior who likes The Muscle Gut Club videos as well, though he hates himself for enjoying something so blatantly homosexual. Life becomes complicated for them both when the club leaps from the cyber world and into the real one. Aron goes down a path that leads to his wildest fantasies, while Steven takes a darker road. There will be muscle worship; there will be sex; there will be humiliation; there will be revenge; and there will be growth. No ones lives with be the same, including those of the club members in this 38 chapter long, muscle filled, character driven story told from 6 characters' points of view. Come and meet The Muscle Gut Club. Chapter One: Aron Aron Ocampo sat in his darkened room with only the faint glow of his laptop screen illuminating his face. His cock was in his right hand, dripping with pre-cum and steadily growing harder becoming so engorged with blood that it almost hurt. A pleasurable hurt. In his other hand, a tube of lotion, ready to lubricate his manhood. On the laptop he watched intently as a muscle stud moved closer to the camera filling more and more of the screen with his immense size. He was standing in a Starkly decorated living room. Clad only in a tiny red poser that could barely contain his bulging manhood the young muscle monster began to flex. His neck was astonishingly thick. It blended into two mountainous traps that met two cannonball delts. His arms were 19 inches around and framed a pair of perfect slab-like pecs that jutted out so far you could eat off of the shelf they created. He struck a front double bicep pose followed by a most muscular. The muscle god was not lean, but Aron didn’t care. He liked his men big and this fine specimen fit the bill. His muscle gut stuck out just past his pecs, obviously stuffed with a large high protein meal to fuel the muscle bull’s growth. Aron began to slowly stroke his erect little cock. The camera panned down to focus on the muscle god’s thick legs. They were like tree trunks. The monster legs were so big they almost made the meat between them look small, but Aron knew that was only an illusion. That cock was not small. He had seen it many times before. Aron stroked himself faster now. There came a knock. The muscle monster swaggered over to the door and opened it revealing a tiny pale twink, so skinny and short it was laughable but Aron couldn’t laugh. He was just like him, a pathetically small and weak boy who could never compare to a real man like the muscle god who made his cock throb with pleasure. “You came to worship me, your master?” The muscle god’s voice was deep and he spoke with authority. “Yes master,” Said the twink, clearly intimidated. He wore nothing, save for a pair of boxers. Aron wished he was in his position and could be in the presence of such impressive muscle. Lucky bastard he thought The muscle god pulled the twink into the room with one powerful arm so fast that the little fellows feet momentarily left the floor. He landed approximately six inches from the muscle god. The twink’s head only reached his master’s chest. He looked like a schoolboy next to a full-grown man. The muscle man’s biceps were bigger than his legs! Aron continued to stroke himself, slower now. He had to pace it just right. The muscle god handed the little twink a bottle of baby oil. “Get to it shrimp,” he said with a grin as he flexed his huge arms. He looked at his muscle obviously impressed with himself. “God, I’m fucking big,” he bellowed. The little shrimp began to oil his muscle master. He rubbed and caressed each body part. The pecs seemed to be his favorite part and he paid them special attention. He got on tippy toes to kiss them up and down as the muscle god squeezed and relaxed. Squeezed and relaxed. The twink began to suck on the nipples making the muscle god moan with pleasure. “Oh yeah, worship my monster pecs.” “Yes master.” The twink’s little cock was growing pushing out the fabric of his boxers. The muscle monster’s cock was growing as well, straining his tiny posers. Aron began to stroke his manhood faster now. The climax was coming and he wanted to time it perfectly. “You worship my muscles well. Now how about you worship this.” The muscle god grabbed his bulge. At-least 2 inches of his cock was sticking out of the top of his posers. “Fuck ‘em,” said the muscle monster as he pulled off his posers with a loud RIP revealing his 8-inch python. “I outgrew them months ago.” “They fit perfectly to me,” said the twink with a smile. “Shut-up and suck,” commanded the muscle god. He pushed down on the twink’s shoulders and the little guy collapsed to his knees. Almost as fast as he hit the ground he had the cock in his mouth and began to suck with enthusiasm and glee. Aron watched longingly. God, I wish it was me. The twink deep-throated the whole cock, sucking it and pleasing it from balls to tip. He twisted his head from side to side working the thick veiny shaft with such skill that the muscle god was high on pleasure. He threw his head back and moaned, “yes, yes!” Aron was stroking his own cock in almost perfect rhythm with the twink’s sucking motions. The spasms came slow at first and then faster. He was about to blow. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” the muscle monster began to shout. The twink stopped sucking. Still on his knees he looked up at the towering behemoth above him. Its cock aimed square at his face. The twink closed his eyes. Aron closed his eyes. The muscle god blew several huge loads all over the twink’s face. Aron shot his cum into a strategically placed garbage can under his desk. Aron loosed the grip on his cock and took in a few deep breaths. Some cum had made its way onto his hand and he was sweating slightly. The twink’s face was covered in a layer of muscle man spunk, thick and creamy white. He looked like he fell head first into a bowl of yogurt. It oozed by his eyes and dripped from his chin. The twink began to lick the warm cum from his face. “That’s right boy. Suck it all in. You aint leaving here until every drop of that cum is in you.” The huge stud placed his hands on his muscle gut and began to laugh as the twink continued to eat his cum with audible MMMs. The screen went black and Aron was left feeling empty now that the video had ended. He knew it was only a 10-minute video when he purchased it for $50, yet somehow he thought it would go on longer, or at least hoped as much. He had purchased the video from the Muscle Gut Club website. The Muscle Gut Club was a group of four college aged men dedicated to growing their bodies and sharing their progress with adoring fans the world over. With a combination of free youtube videos showcasing their lives and hardcore videos on their for sale site, they took the Internet’s muscle fetish community by storm. The four muscle gods lived together, ate together, and pumped iron together. Aron made his way over to the club’s youtube page, and clicked on one of their older videos: Muscle Gut Club Protein Bloat. The whole club was sitting on a huge black leather sofa. Edmund Moreno, the junior competitive bodybuilder, sat on the far left. His dark brown locks fell just to his earlobes His tanned skin and square jaw were to die for. In the middle sat the two muscle bears, the weightlifters, Brendon Lane and Daniel Hogan. Brendon was smaller here than in the video Steven had just paid $50 for. He still had the same mocha skin, short neatly trimmed beard, and bloated muscle gut. Daniel, the Irish American was pale, hairy, and sported a lumberjack style beard. On the far right sat Thomas Patel, the Indian fitness model and physique competitor. He was by far the smallest of the bunch, the only one under 6 feet and 200 pounds, but his 160 pounds of lean muscle packed on a 5 foot 8-inch frame made him an impressive site. Thomas was hairless save for the short, neatly combed black hair on the top of his head. All four of the studs were wearing nothing but briefs (strained at the seams). In front of them was a table filled with high protein delights. There was a family sized bucket of KFC fried chicken, four steak fajitas, a pound of crispy bacon, 8 hamburgers, and a platter of bbq wings piled so high as to form a mountain in the center of the table. Aron was always impressed by the club’s eating ability and this video was over one-year-old. Surely they could eat twice this now since they had all grown. Edmund was the first to speak. He spread his arms wide. “We are going to eat all of this. It’s enough food for 16 normal people, but we aren’t normal. We’re fucking gods.” He flexed his biceps and the other’s followed suite, though his had the most impressive peaks of the bunch. “What are we celebrating boys?” asked Edmund. “My powerlifting meet,” said Daniel. “The success of my photoshoot,” said Thomas. “Being the biggest motherfucker here,” shouted Brandon with a pat of his gut and a laugh. “And I’m celebrated the end of my bulk. After this it’s time to get shredded for my next competition,” said Edmund, “let’s feed these muscles”. At once these half naked muscle gods greedily dove into the food like they hadn’t eaten in days. Bite after bite, so fast it was a wonder no one got hurt. They grabbed and shoved and gnawed in the sexiest spectacle of gluttony on the web. Four alphas feeding their growing physiques, trying to satiate their oversized appetites. The club members began to rub and pat each other’s distended bellies, laughing at, and admiring the damage done. Aron was growing hard again, and so were the members of the club. The gentle creak of Aron’s bedroom door opening startled him. He quickly closed the video. His heart raced. Mrs. Rita Ocampo, Aron’s mother, entered the dim room and stood just inside the door. She wore a silk night gown and a tired expression. “It’s 1 am,” she said. “Yeah.” Aron did not turn around. He slyly slid his cock back into his pants. “What were you doing Aron?” “Nothing! Just getting ready for bed.” Aron closed his laptop and turned around with a pout. “Can you knock next time mom. You know I’m old enough for some privacy.” His room had no lock. Parent’s rules. “You still live under my roof.” Not for long. “But I will knock next time,” She said, rolling her eyes. When his mother had gone Aron took a deep breath. One of his biggest fears was his parents discovering him watching gay porn or any material that could be seen as homoerotic in nature. Aron discovered he was gay, or rather accepted the fact, when he was 16. His parents had no clue to their son’s true nature as far as he knew and Aron did everything he could to keep it that way. His parents did not approve of the lifestyle and considered it a terrible sin. He had had hopes of sitting his parents down on his 18th birthday and telling them the truth, but his 18th came and went 2 months ago with not a peep. Instead he remarked to a classmate, within earshot of his father, how hot his neighbor’s 19-year-old daughter was, all in an attempt to keep the façade intact. It doesn’t matter. In a month I’ll be in college, free to do what I want and be what I want. Aron smiled at the thought as he crawled into bed, before drifting into a dream land populated with muscle men. Chapter Two: Steven Steven Hess stood naked in his cramped bathroom facing the mirror. His expression was one of disappointment. In 3 weeks I’ll be back in college with this same pathetic body, he thought. Standing at an even 6 feet, with a flabby 180 build, he not an impressive sight. Clothed, he could suck in his paunch and pass for fit to the untrained but here, standing naked there was no hiding his lack of definition. He grabbed at 3 inches of flab on his stomach and shook it with a frown. He performed a front double bicep only to discover there was hardly any peak on his 14.5 inch arms. He was disgusted and only grew more disgusted the longer he stared at his reflection. Still he stared. He squeezed his soft pale pecs and flexed his invisible abs. He left the bathroom in a huff and proceeded to get dressed in a pair of blue denim shorts and a light gray t-shirt. Steven sat at his computer desk. A few thin rays of morning sun speckled his shirt, warming him. But Steven did not want to be warm. He got up to turn on his air conditioner and close his blinds, choosing to sit in cool darkness. Muscle Gut Club. The thought seemed to come from nowhere. Muscle Gut Club. An inner voice seemed to call out for him to watch their videos. I thought these urges were gone. I thought I was cured of these sinful thoughts. He shook his head in anger. Steven had first discovered the club’s videos when he was 18, two years ago. He had started working out at the time and the club served as motivation for him. Their early videos consisted of mostly flexing, workouts, and eating. Steven hoped to look like them. However, his efforts proved fruitless. After eight months in the gym he had gained 10 pound and half of that he believed to be fat. Steven came to the conclusion that the club members must be on steroids, that anyone with big muscles must be on steroids. Steven had decided he would never defile his body with such impure and dangerous compounds so he quit that working out business. Still, he continued to watch Muscle Gut Club videos, even as they grew more sexual in nature. Where once the club would do a video fully clothed (very tight clothes of course) they would now do them in boxer briefs. Steven masturbated to several of their videos, especially the ones focused on Edmund, the bodybuilder. I’m not gay. I’m not gay. I’m just hormonal and young. Everything makes me horny. There’s nothing wrong with this he would tell himself. The more he said it, the less he believed it until he forced himself to stop watching Muscle Gut Club videos once and for all. His abstinence lasted all of a week when he discovered that he went to the same college as the club. There videos were filmed off campus in a private home so there was nothing in them to give away the location. There was no hiding their faces, though. Steven was walking to the dining hall and the four muscle gods walked towards him, Brendon, Thomas, Daniel, and Edmund, Oh Edmund. From that point on Steven was at war with his homosexual desires. Now he sat in is dim room faced a decision. Listed to the voice: Muscle Gut Club or fight it. He chose to listen. I’ll stop tomorrow. It’s no big deal. Steven opened his laptop and immediately went to the clubs YouTube channel. He would not pay for one of their videos. He scrolled through and selected the video titled “Edmond Dominates Benny the Twink.” He stopped himself. No, no. You’re not a faggot Steven. Stop this. Yes, you are. You’re just a muscle loving faggot who’ll never have any muscle of his own. No I’m not, I have a girlfriend. Yes, you are, she’s just a cover. No I’m not! Steven slammed the computer screen shut. “Goddammit,” Steven shouted as he bolted up from his desk. Pacing the room, he hummed to silence the voices making war in his head. Steven had just woken up but now he eyed his bed, contemplating it. Rest may help me. I’ll just close my eyes. He slid under the covers. In no time he was lost in sleep and a dream took him. Steven could not tell where he was, outside or in. A dry fog surrounded him and obscured the boundaries of his vision. Is it day or night? He lay on scarlet satin seats in black pajama bottom with no top. A roll of soft fat curled over the pajama’s waistband as he leaned up to further survey is surroundings. The bed was so large that the edges of it were lost in the fog. The thought to roll entered his mind and so he did it. He rolled and rolled like a child in the grass but stopped when he realized he would not reach the end. He peered deep into the fog. A shadow seemed to take form in the haze. It moved towards him, slowly. “Hello,” Steven called out. No reply. Still the shadow moved closer, growing larger and clearer. “Hello,” he called again. “Where am I? What is this place?” Again there was no reply. The figure was nearly upon him. It was clearly that of man, tall with broad shoulders. The fog seemed to part before him and Steven saw his face. It was Edmund Moreno. His chiseled jawline could have been carved from stone. Edmond stared at Steven with is light brown eyes. His lips formed a cocky smile. He wore a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt unbuttoned at the top. A gold band was on his ring finger. Steven looked at his own hand and found a matching gold band that he had not noticed before. His heart skipped a beat. Edmund’s arms stretched the fabric of the shirtsleeves. His brood chest pulled at the material around the buttons. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and pealed it off his massive frame, then slowly undid each button on the white shirt, working his way lower until he had revealed his washboard abs. Steven had grown completely hard. He pushed his boner down in shame but the iron hard cock was too rigid. It could not be tamed. The muscle god flexed his biceps and ripped open the shirtsleeves along the seam before throwing the shirt into the fog. He motioned to undo his belt and as he did so his meaty pecs bounced with ever movement of his arms. Steven was now jerking off furiously to quell his raging boner. Edmund lowered his pants revealing meaty, striated thighs, and an impressive cock. It was thick, veiny and clearly rock hard but it was so large it hung low and heavy under its own weight. Every part of him was impressive. Steven salivated and rose to his knees, still beating his meat. Suddenly Edmund lunged forward, stopping just short of forcing Steven back. His mammoth manhood knocked Steven in the face. It was more impressive up close, truly a beautiful sight. Steven took it into his mouth and began to suck. He sucked with passion and desire as if there was nothing else he wanted, only that cock, only that moment. He stopped stroking his own cock and concentrated solely on the Stud standing above him. Edmund grabbed Steven’s hair and pushed his head further onto his muscle god cock. Steven gagged. His eyes filled with tears of pleasure. The rhythmic throbs came all at once. Edmund blew a forceful load into Stevens mouth, filling it with thick, warm, salty spunk. He swallowed it all with gusto and squeezed every last drop from that cock. When he was through he looked up at the muscle stud. Steven asked, “Got any more?” As if in answer Edmond bent over and picked Steven up with no obvious show of effort. He turned Steven over and ripped of the pajama bottoms, revealing a pale white ass that contrasted sharply with his own tanned skin. Edmond spit on his cock. Steven’s cheeks were parted by the massive manhood and his asshole was stretched to its limits. Edmund began to pound his ass with ferocity. Steven moaned in pleasure with each thrust. “More, more,” Steven screamed. Edmund blew his second load filling Steven’s ass with his seed. “Don’t stop!” Steven was breathing heavily. He turned and Edmund was gone. He was alone again with nothing but satin sheets and fog. All at once he heard a voice beside him. “Did you enjoy that faggot?” He turned toward the voice and was staring himself in the face. “Did you enjoy that faggot?” the voice repeated in echo. Steven woke with a start. He lay in his bed covered in a cold sweat. His manhood was rock hard. A feeling of disgust filled him, disgusted with himself, with that dream, no, nightmare. I’m not a faggot. I’m not a faggot. I’m not a faggot. He repeated the mantra as he got out of bed to carry on with his day. Three: Aron He struggled to lift his packed suitcase from the trunk of his parent’s SUV. It weighed 50 pounds, half his weight. His father, Mr. Efren Ocampo, helped him. Efren was a man of slight build and medium height, the same height as his wife in fact, 5 foot 8 inches. Both were taller than their 5 foot 5 inch son. “Son, you take this one.” He handed Aron a smaller bag and took the larger one himself. “It looks like those people are welcoming Freshmen,” said Aron’s father as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Come on honey.” Mrs. Ocampo sauntered up to stand by her husband. She wore large black sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat. It was an oppressively hot August day with not a cloud in the sky. The family began to walk toward the welcoming committee. Aron hurried in front of his parents, his arm straining under the weight of the ‘light’ suitcase. God I’m so weak. He switched arms and kept a straight face, refusing to show weakness. The welcoming committee in this section of the campus consisted of three girls and three boys standing behind a long table under the shade of a blue picnic tent. The table was covered with boxes containing shirts, hoodies, mugs, pens, and notebooks, all with the University logo. “Hi!” A girl said, beaming, as Aron surveyed the table. She wore a yellow t-shirt that read “Welcome Freshman” and her name tag read “Alyssa”. “We’ve sure got a hot one for moving in don’t we? So tell me what dorm you’re in and I can direct you- what’s your name?” “Aron.” She extended her hand and Aron shook it. He used the opportunity to put his bag down and rest his arm. “I’m Alyssa.” “Hi, uh, Alyssa. I’m in Jefferson dorm.” “Go down that path, past a big tree, make a right at the statue, and keep going straight. You’ll hit Jefferson. You can’t miss it.” She gesticulated wildly as she spoke. Mrs. Ocampo leaned on the table once Alyssa was finished. “The dorm has air conditioning right? Please tell me it has air conditioning. When we came for orientation they only showed us the new dorms and they have air conditioning, but I wonder if they are hiding something.” Mrs. Ocampo pulled her sunglasses down and stared Alyssa square in the eyes. “Well I know they added air conditioning to all the dorms 5 yrs ago but sometimes in the older dorms like Jefferson it can be a little iffy.” “Fair enough.” Mrs. Ocampo replied. Aron and his family followed Alyssa’s directions and arrived at the Doors of Jefferson. All of them were sweating profusely. Aron looked up the mammoth structure. Jefferson stood five stories and was in the shape of a huge capital “H”. English ivy clung to a brick façade and well-pruned cedars framed the main entrance. Aron had read that the first floor was all boys, the second, all girls, and the last three were co-ed. His room was 312, a co-ed floor to further his illusion of heterosexuality. In Jefferson’s main hall the Residential Assistants handed out the room keys as well as a pamphlet of rules. “Stay cool,” said a male RA as he handed Aron his key. “All even numbered rooms are on the left.” Everyone’s so friendly. I’m going to like it here, Aron thought. The building had no elevators and by the time the family reached the third floor they were all exasperated from the combination of carrying luggage and the heat. Aron opened his room door and saw that his Roommate was already present and had claimed the left side of the room. He was a tall, athletically built and Chinese. Aron remembered his name was Jason Ho and thought he was kind of cute. After a quick introduction (very quick, Jason was not the talkative type) Aron unpacked his bags and the Ocampos left for Walmart to pick-up a few things Aron would need, storage containers, an alarm clock, laundry hamper, lamp, and a small television. With Aron’s room all set up the Ocampos enjoyed one final family meal at a local restaurant, though Aron would have been satisfied had they left immediately after returning from Walmart. “That Alyssa was pretty cute, huh?” Mr. Ocampo said as he cut into a medium rare steak. “I saw the way you looked at her.” Aron had looked at her funny because of her over the top hand gestures. “I think she’s an upperclassman dad.” Aron replied. He couldn’t believe his father was playing matchmaker on his first day in college. “So what. There’s nothing wrong with an older woman.” “Efren!” Mrs. Ocampo snapped. “He’ll be focusing on school his first year. Romance later.” “I was just messing with him honey.” After the meal Aron’s parents dropped him off on campus. His mother had tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Call once a week,” she said. “We’ll miss you.” “If you need any money just call son,” said his father “Have fun and we love you, and learn something.” He hugged and kissed his parents and watched them drive off. Free at last. Free at last. Aron wasted no time exploring the campus. He had seen very little of it on orientation day and was curious to see everything it had to offer. It covered 1200 acres and Aron intended to cover as much of it as possible before dark. He was relieved that clouds had rolled in after lunch causing the heat to subside some. Jefferson dorm overlooked the East campus dining hall. Aron found it drab. It looked like a restaurant that had not been redecorated since the 80s. Not much food was available since Aron had visited between meals, but the food that was available (pizza, chicken tenders, mixed vegetables, and French fries) looked edible enough. As Aron walked down the campus’ main path (called Scholar’s Way) toward the heart of the campus he took in the sights and sounds of college. Students played ultimate Frisbee in an open field. Girls sunned themselves on towels discussing their summers. Two shirtless guys jogged by him and he tried his hardest not to stair too long. A hipster played his guitar under an oak tree. Aron didn’t recognize the tune. It hit all at once. A rush through him down to his bones: the realization that he would be living there with thousands of other students for 3 ½ months (until winter break). New friends. New experiences. And he was ready. He stopped in the center of the path and looked up at the clock tower of the student union. It was 2:30pm and in that moment he vowed not to waste his time in college. He wasn’t going to live life through a computer screen in some dark room. He would have real experiences: a real life. His lips lifted into the largest goofiest smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled in earnest because he was happy and not just to cover his true feelings. He lowered his gaze from the clock tower and in an instant his smile was gone. In its place was an expression of shock. In the distance he saw a familiar shape. A hulking figure moved through the crowd. It couldn’t be. Could it? No. It couldn’t be him. Aron had to be sure. He ran through a crowd of students bumping into some. With rushed apologies, he pushed past them. His quarry was large, not easy to lose track of but Aron’s small stature meant that he could hardly see over other students. He had to be quick and luckily he was. The crowd grew thick the closer he got to the heart of the campus, the food court in the student union. Aron followed his quarry into the food court. He had heard they served much better food than the dining halls and the large crowd seemed to support this. There were several students taller than the one he was following but none wider or more thickly muscled. He wore a red tank top and white shorts with sandals. red certainly is his color. The food court was arranged in two sections. First a semi-circle with various eateries crammed side by side: a taco place, a bakery, a sub shop, a Chinese place, a smoothie stand, and a pizzeria. The second was a rectangular hall with tables of various sizes. His quarry stood in line at the sub shop and Aron positioned himself in line at the taco place, close enough to see him but far enough away not to be noticed. His heart raced as he looked to catch a glimpse of his face. Mocha skin and a well-trimmed beard. He had all the features. It was Brendon Lane. If Brendon goes to this school then the whole Muscle Gut Club must go here as well. Aron felt faint. He left his line without buying anything and made his way to the tables, choosing a seat in the corner that was obscured buy a support column. He felt like a creeper as he watched Brendon get his food with fascination. Apparently the appetite he displayed in his videos was not for show. He ordered two 12 inch sub sandwiches, and a giant size chocolate chip cookie from the sub shop, as well as a milkshake from the shake stand (apparently they offer to add protein powder to your shakes for an extra dollar, an option Brendon took). Brendon sat at a table by himself just within Aron’s sights. He ate with gusto and consumed all of the food within 10 minutes. Aron timed him. When Brendon rose he rubbed his distended muscle gut and smiled before exiting the food court. Aron had a choice to make, follow or not. It had long been Aron’s fantasy to meet the members of the muscle gut club. Now he had that opportunity. Should I take it? He masturbated himself raw to them. He had seen them all naked. What would I say to them? Hey, I like your cock. No. He knew he would probably be speechless, but still… I have to try. Aron rose and ran from the food court. He caught site of Brendon in the distance. Taking a deep breath, he set off behind him. Exploring the rest of the campus would have to wait. Four: Brendon He pushed the weight up with little effort for the fifteenth time. 250 pounds was just a warm up for him now, but two years ago as an 18-year-old freshman it would have been a struggle. At 18 he had been working out for 3 years (seriously for only half that time) and had developed a lean aesthetic physique that could have been the envy of any fitness model. He liked his abs. He liked his striations but he liked seeing the weigh on the bar go up even more. That year something in him clicked and strength not aesthetics became his main goal. Now he lay on the bench in the Muscle Gut Club’s private gym a stronger more robust version of his 18-year-old self. In two years he had grown 2 inches in height and gained 50 pounds. At 6 foot 3 inches and 230 pounds he had no abs but he didn’t care. He was stronger than he’d ever been and only wanted to grow in strength. Bigger. Stronger. Better. He was on a forever bulk. Brendon stood up from the bench. He wore a blue stinger that covered so little of his upper body that he might as well have been shirtless, and black compression shorts that could hardly contain his squat-grown ass. He picked up two 25 pound plates like they weighed nothing and added them to the 250 pounds already on the bar. He proceeded to bench the weight. One rep. Two reps…by the Tenth rep he was breathing heavy, but he managed to crank out two more reps before racking the 300 pounds with a loud clang. Still too light. His cock stirred at the thought. If he could do more than eight reps of a weight he knew he had to go heavier. After a three-minute rest and a drink of BCAAs he added a 10-pound weight and a 2.5-pound weight to each side. The bar now weighed 325 pounds and after a deep breath he lifted the bar. His arms shook slightly but he managed five reps with perfect form. He racked the weight and sat up slowly. Beads of sweat formed on his temples and trickled down the side of his face. His pecs were pumped full with blood (as was his cock). He rubbed them and bounced them, enjoying the sight of himself in the mirror. “Having fun?” A voice interrupted his self-muscle worship session. Daniel Hogan stood at the door with a cheeky grin. “Lifting heavy without a spotter again. You’re asking to get hurt.” Daniel moved closer to him. “I’m not pushing myself too hard.” Brendon said. “You should be if you’re gonna beat me at the meet” Daniel flexed his arms as he spoke. Brendon laughed then said, “First you’ll have to get up to my weight class and I warn you I’ll be heavier by the end of the year.” At 6 foot 1 inch and 215 pound Daniel did not have far to go. “I hadn’t planned on competing in your weight class.” Daniel looked at himself in the mirror before picking up two 60 pound dumbbells and curling them. “Aah, you’re too scared to compete head to head so you plan to dominate in a lower weight class. But tell me how’s our bet going to work. I thought the person who beats the other has to pay $500-” Daniel interrupted him. “No, my idea was the one who wins their weight class pays the other $500. Brendon shook his head and smiled. “Tell me Dan,” Brendon began, “What happens if we both win in our weight classes, or we both loose.” Daniel stopped curling and looked his friend dead in the eyes for a second. He pushed his lower lip out, squeezed his eyebrows together and moved his eyes rapidly from side to side as he always did when deep in thought. “Well I guess of we both win or lose then there’s no bet then is there?” “Guess not,” said Brendon, laying down on the bench. He didn’t really care about the bet. “Since you’re here and so worried about my safety, spot me on my pr.” “That’s a personal record for you?” Daniel pointed at the bar. “That only 325.” “No, you’re gonna make yourself useful and add 50 pounds to it. Thanks” “You’re fucking annoying,” Daniel said with a laugh. “I know.” When the weight was set Brendon took several deep breaths and grabbed the bar. Daniel placed his hands under the bar. “You got this man, light weight, light weight,” he said. Brendon lifted it with a deep grunt. Every muscle in his upper body tensed. He lowered the weight slowly to within one inch of his chest. When the time came to raise it he stalled. Don’t let the weight beat you. Beat it. Daniel began to apply upward pressure on the bar, but Brendon frowned at him and he immediately let loose keeping his hands a half inch under the bar. Slowly Brandon began to raise the 375 lbs. He flared his teeth and half way up stalled once more. Daniel touched the bar again. “No help” grunted Brendon. “Dude you’re going to pop something.” “No help!” He raised the bar further. Yes. Bigger. Stronger. Better. He completed the rep with a howl. Daniel cheered. After racking the weight Brendon sprung up from the bench. Daniel grabbed his arm and shook him. “375 fucking pounds man.” Brendon grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Who’s the man? Haha.” His head was in the clouds. He had hit a new personal record: The heaviest in the club. He peeled off his stringer and began to flex in the mirror. Daniel joined in. “That got me hungry.” Said Brendon “You’re always hungry.” Replied Dan That was true and he knew it. He was a bottomless pit, hungry for size and power, and he fed his appetite whenever he had the chance. “Want to get something to eat?” Brendon asked. “Nah, I just ate a pizza.” Dan rubbed his slightly distended muscle gut. “Ok. Peace, I’m out.” Brendon left the gym shirtless, carrying his stringer in his hand. He could feel Daniel’s eyes watching him as he left. No doubt he was ‘miring. Brendon had already eaten 6 scrambled eggs, 4 slices of bacon, 4 pieces of toast, and 2 bananas for breakfast, as well as a gainer shake just before his bench pressing session, but that didn’t stop him from stuffing himself at lunch. He ate two whole subs, an oversized cookie, and a milkshake in the student Union food court. On an average day he could consume 6000 calories and he certainly needed them. He lifted weights 6 days a week in the morning, focusing on a major lift or body part each time. 4 days a week in the afternoons he performed strong man style lifts for 2 hours: moving logs, farmer’s carries, tire lifts, atlas stones and the like. Today was one of those days. He decided to go home and take a nap to sleep off the meal. Then he would have another shake before heading to the Strong Man Center downtown. As he walked away from the Student Union, he felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned to find a short thin boy looking up at him. The little fellow had peanut color skin, almond shaped eyes, and black hair. He appeared to have some Asian origin. A freshman no doubt, lost. “Yeah. Can I help you?” The little fellow looked away when he caught Brendon’s gaze, then in an instant his eyes darted back to meet Brendon’s. He seemed nervous. “I…uh…my name is…I just want-” Brendon was growing impatient. “Are you lost?” he asked, uninterested. “No.” “Need help finding something?” “No.” There was a moment of silence. Jesus. What’s wrong with him? “Well it was nice meeting you,” Brendon said, sardonic. “But I got places to be.” “I like your videos!” The little guy blurted it out suddenly as Brendon turned away, louder than necessary, and so quickly the words blended together. “What?” Brendon raised his eye brows. “The, uh, Muscle Gut Club videos. I really like them, like… a lot.” The little fellow lowered his eyes to the ground as if he had admitted to grave sin and was now ashamed of himself. Brendon looked him over for a minute, before bursting out in laughter. He placed a large hand on the little guy’s shoulder and patted him so hard his frail body nearly keeled over. “Sorry about that, little guy, sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” Brendon had a huge grin on his face. “Why didn’t you just open with that? I love meeting fans. It doesn’t happen too often. Most of them live too far away and it’s not like we give out our address since a lot of them are creepers if you know what I man.” The little guy managed an awkward smile. He looked relieved. “Kid, you looked like you were worried I’d eat you, haha.” And I probably could if I was hungry enough and you were the only thing around. “So what’s your name?” Brendon continued. “Aron Ocampo.” “So if you want a private muscle video its $50 for half an hour, $100 if you want me to get naked.” “Actually I just want to meet the whole club,” said Aron. “I love big guys and it would be an honor to serve you all. I would work for you all and my only payment would be the pleasure of being around all that muscle. I know it might sound lame and if you want just say no.” Aron lowered his eyes once more. Brendon could hardly believe it. The club had a house boy the previous year, Jason Meed, but after being inspired by the club he traded in his twink physique and submissive personality for a muscle bod and dominant cocky bravado. He soon clashed with the club and had to go. Now a new one had fallen into his lamp. He was cute enough, seemed submissive enough, and he clearly loved muscle. What more can I ask for? “It’s not lame at all,” Brendon said squeezing Aron’s bony shoulder. “Say, how tall are you and your weight?” “I’m 5, 3, 101 pounds.” Brendon tried to contain his inner joy. The Perfect size for lift and carry videos. “Give me your number. I’ll call you when the club is ready to meet.” When Brendon was finished putting the number in his phone he shook Aron’s hand, perhaps squeezing it a little too firmly considering the little guy’s grimace. The two parted ways and both were smiling as they did so. Five: Aron He sat in his dorm room, half present and half absent. His body was there, yes, but his mind was elsewhere. Brendon had said he would call when the Muscle Gut Club was ready to meet him. The first day he waited with excitement hoping he would get the call that night. It didn’t come. The next day his phone rang and his heart skipped a beat. To his dismay, it was only his mother checking in. The third day classes started and he had to walk from one end of the campus to the other to reach them all. He hoped in doing so that he would run into Brendon again or some other member of the club. No such luck. Now as he absentmindedly stared at his computer screen he wondered Did the club not want to meet me? Was Brendon just toying with me? It hurt to think about it. His roommate, Jason Ho, sat in the room as well, earphones on and head in a calculus book. Aron had learned very little about him in the past few days, aside from the fact that he was a Biology major from upstate New York who was crazy about some band he had never heard of. He had eaten with Jason once and after getting no more than three sentences out of him decided he was better off eating his meals alone. Jason didn’t mind. Aron heard a knock on the door. He turned to answer, but Jason leapt from his bed and beat him to it. Four Chinese looking students, 2 boys and 2 girls entered into the room. Hugs were shared, kisses given, and hands shook as Aron watched. They spoke to Aron briefly and he was given a barrage of names he would never remember. He caught them mention a restaurant and within two minutes they were gone, leaving Aron alone. He had several options. He could study, continue surfing the web, go for an evening walk, or masturbate. Truthfully he wanted to do none of it. He had no test to study for and unlike his roommate he was not the type to read a textbook without a reason, though he knew he should. The web had started to bore him. He could only stand so many Facebook posts, forum threads, and funny videos. He had done enough walking to get to class earlier that day. That left masturbation. Masturbation was his old standby. His favorite pastime. It was a stress reliever and form of cardio. In the past year he had only masturbated to Muscle Gut Club videos. It was an obsession. He would do it now but after meeting Brendon and knowing they were so close to him he only wanted the real thing. A video wouldn’t do. He walked over to his bed, removed his shoes and laid down. As soon as he closed his eyes his phone rang. Aron jumped from the bed so fast he nearly fell over. He ran over to his desk and answered. “Hello, Aron, it’s Brendon. When’s your next day off?” “I have no classes Thursday.” He tried his best not to let the excitement show in his voice. “Perfect. The club wants to meet you. Come by at Noon. I’ll text you the directions.” “Ok, great. Thank you Brendon.” “No, thank you,” Brendon said before hanging up. Aron hardly slept that night. Instead he thought of what he would say to the club members and what he would do. The next day he couldn’t concentrate on his classes. His mind raced from thought to thought. What if I say the wrong thing? What if they don’t like me? God, I hope they like me. On Thursday at 11:30 am Aron set off on his journey. He was happy and nervous, so nervous he ate nothing that morning. He only drank a glass of orange juice. The club lived at 43 Stone Street on the other side of town. Luckily between the Campus run buses and the city buses there were trips to and from that part of town every half hour. He took one of the campus buses which were painted an obnoxiously bright blue. It was packed with students heading to off campus housing or going shopping. Aron couldn’t find a seat so he stood in the middle making awkward eye contact with the bus driver in his rearview mirror. His short arms just barely reached the overhead pole. On sharp turns he bumped into the students next to him despite trying his hardest to stay steady. He just didn’t have the weight for it. When he reached his stop he took a breath of relief. He felt like he was being released from a tin of sardines. The ride had only lasted 10 minutes but it felt like it had been one hour. There were no bus stops on Stone street so he had to walk the rest of the way. He took note of how nice the neighborhood was, not rich nice (He grew up in a neighborhood like that), but middle-class nice. Most students who lived off campus rented places in the poorer part of town. The Muscle Gut Club must be doing very well for themselves. At 11:54 he walked up to the front door at 43 Stone Street. It was a white shingled, 2 story Dutch colonial with a yard enclosed by high hedges and a fence. Aron motioned to ring the doorbell but paused momentarily. Nerves again. Surprisingly the door opened. Brendon stood in the frame filling it with his size. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of black nylon shorts, his muscle gut in plain view. His arms stood out from his sides at an angle, lifted up by his well-developed lats. “No, I’m not psychic. I saw you walking up.” Brendon said with a smile. “Come on in and meet the guys.” Aron took one step in the door and was hit with the strongest odor of male musk he could imagine. It smelled of pure masculinity. He stood still, briefly overcome with arousal. “Any day now,” Brendon called from another room. Aron quickly ran toward the sound of the voice, nearly tripping over his feet. When he entered the room he froze like a deer in headlights. All four members of the club sat in the room on two couches staring directly at him. Edmond was wearing only a pair of red boxer briefs stretched to the limits by his massive quads and by his mammoth manhood. He was looking exceptionally lean. Aron wanted to leap forward and place his hands all over his deeply cut cobblestone abs, but he maintained his composure. Thomas wore a white wife beater and black briefs. His fitness model physique, while the smallest of the four, was as impressive as they come. His shoulders and chest were unbelievably developed. His waist formed a perfect v-taper. Aron swooned at his Adonis belt and at the sight of his large, masculine Adam’s apple. Daniel was seated closest to Aron. He was shirtless and wore only a pair of grey pajama bottoms. He was almost as big as Brendon and the palest of the bunch. His muscles were clearly well defined even if he wasn’t very lean. Daniels hairy chest and rugged beard gave him a sexy lumberjack appeal. Aron couldn’t believe this was finally happening. As he looked around the room all he could manage to say was a shy “hi”. “Guys, this is obviously the Freshman I was telling you about, Aron Ocampo.” Brendon said. “He’s kind of cute like you said,” Thomas looked from Aron to Brandon. “In a mousey way.” The other members nodded. “He looks kind of frail, though.” Edmund said with an apprehensive look. “You’re not sick are you?” “No!” Aron replied, shaking his head. “Sir.” He added. The members snickered and shared glances with each other. “Sir? Haha. What a polite little twink.” Said Edmond. “I like him already.” It was the first time Aron had been called a twink by someone. Edmond stood up and walked over to him. He towered over Aron and got so close that the little twink could smell his masculine scent. It smelled good. Without warning Edmond picked him up. “God he’s so light.” He exclaimed. Edmond turned him on his side and began curling him with next to no effort at all. Up and down, up and down Aron went, 15 times. Then Edmond proceeded to press him overhead 10 times. Aron was in heaven. Daniel stood up. “Let me have a go at him.” “He’ll be nothing for you,” Edmund said as he handed him over. Daniel pressed him overhead several times and then lowered one of his arms, holding Aron overhead one handed. He walked over to Brendon (Still with Aron overhead) and said, “You got a real small one this time.” Brendon stood up and took Aron from Daniel and placed him on the ground as easily as if he were a doll. Aron was now surrounded by a triangle of shirtless muscle gods all towering over him. Thomas sat on the couch smiling. “Don’t mind them Aron, they just like showing off how strong they are.” “Someone get the measuring tape,” said Edmond. Brendon left and within an instant he was back with the measuring tape. “Strip.” Edmond commanded Aron. Aron did as he ordered, not wanting to displease the muscle god. He stood before them in his size small white briefs. They began to measure him all over, gaping, and snickering. “Wow only 11 inch arms, my 12-year-old brother has arms bigger than that,” said Edmond. “Holy shit my arms are as big as his thighs,” said Daniel. This humiliation would have sent Aron crying anywhere else, but from these muscle gods it was a turn on. His little cock stiffened as the muscle gut club poked, prodded, and studied his boney body. “Hey look, he’s getting hard.” Thomas pointed. “Pull down your underwear,” Edmund ordered. Aron again obeyed. Edmond took the measuring tape and held it next to Aron’s little cock. “Five inches and fully hard,” he said, looking around at the club. Edmund whipped his mammoth member from his boxer briefs and held It next to Aron’s “Twice as thick and twice as long.” He smiled with pride. “Let’s face it, though, comparing your cock to an average man’s wouldn’t even be fair, much less to that.” Daniel said as he pointed to Aron’s. “You can lift your underwear,” Brendon said. There was a touch of sympathy in his voice. He must not realize I love it. Every minute of it. “I really don’t care about his cock size. You’ll be fucking him, not the other way around,” Daniel said, “And I really don’t care about his looks since people watch our videos for our looks not the Twink’s.” “Is there a point here?” Edmond asked. “My point is. You say he wants to serve us.” He looked at Brendon. “Well that’s what I’m interested in. Will he be good at his job?” He turned back to Aron. Now was the moment Aron had been waiting for. He had been thinking about what he would say for day and finally he was ready to say it. “I’m gay,” Aron began, “and I love muscle men more than anything in the whole world. I’ve watched all of your YouTube videos an even bought some of your XXX videos. I masturbate to you. I dream about you. I’ve always wanted to meet you. I know I’ll never have muscles like yours. I know I’ll never be able to compare to gods like you, but all I ask is the chance to be around you, to serve, to bask in the presence of your massive frames.” “I will serve you with devotion and without question. I can cook and I will cook huge protein rich meals for you to fuel your growth. I will do your laundry and clean your rooms. If your tense after a workout, I’ll massage you. I’ll wipe the sweat from your brow. If your horny you can fuck me or if you just want a blowjob just say the word. I’ll wear whatever you want me to while in the house. I will truly be your slave and you will be my muscle masters.” Thomas’ mouth was agape. Edmund had a devious smile across his face. Brendon looked flabbergasted. Daniel simply clapped. He looked genuinely impressed by the speech. “Did you have that planned or was it off the top of your head?” asked Brendon. “Uh, kinda planned,” replied Aron, scratching his head. “Get on your knees.” Commanded Edmund. Aron did so. The members of the club got up and formed a semi-circle around him, staring down at him. “Kiss our feet.” Edmund ordered. Aron gently kissed each of their feet. “That’s so a slave remembers his place.” Edmund said. “At our feet.” Said Brendon, cutting in. “Rise,” said Edmond. Aron did so as each of the members struck a front double bicep pose. “Now kiss our biceps.” Aron kissed each of their biceps. “That’s so a slave remembers why he serves,” Edmund said. “He serves because of these muscles,” Brendon said, again finishing Edmund’s statement. “You start Saturday,” said Brendon. “Be here at 9 am to start breakfast. Here’s a key, and bring some stuff to cook us dinner. You won’t have time to go shopping after you get here. You’ll be very busy.” He grinned. Aron dressed. The club said their ‘until next times’ and he left for the 1:30 pm bus. He couldn’t wait for Saturday. Six: Edmund Edmund Moreno stood in his bathroom flexing in the mirror. He squeezed his muscles tight and hit every major bodybuilding pose like he was standing on stage at the Olympia. He imagined the crowd cheering him and admiring his perfect physique. I can’t believe I came in 3rd at the Junior Classics last week. I had the best conditioning on stage and the best symmetry. He had stepped on stage at the Classics weighing in at 195 pounds of lean hard muscle and standing 6 foot 1 inch, but he wasn’t the biggest. The 1st and 2nd place winners outweighed him by 15 pounds and that gave them the edge. Next time I’ll be fucking huge. He felt a hand touch his shoulder. His girlfriend, Bianca Bui, had creeped up behind him and began squeezing his muscles as he flexed. She loved his muscles. “Having fun?” she asked. “Seeing what I need to work on. I could bring my traps up and my lats-” “You look perfect to me babe.” “Well, the judges didn’t think so,” Edmund frowned slightly. “I have a better physique than anyone on campus, but that won’t win the competition. I need to be better than anyone in the state.” He bent down and kissed Bianca on the lips. She was of Vietnamese decent, 5 foot 5 inches, and 119 pounds with the perfect female figure. She wore pink silk pajama bottoms and a white tank top. “I guess you’ll be going on a big bulk.” She said. “The biggest I’ve done yet. I plan on putting on at least 35 or 40 pounds before cutting.” “Then you won’t be doing much cardio…” She pouted jokingly. Edmund laughed. “I’ll always have time for cardio.” He pulled down his boxers revealing his manhood. “I’ll just have to eat a big breakfast after to make up for all the calories I burn. Edmond pulled off her top and cupped her firm breasts. She giggled and removed her pajama bottoms. Edmund kissed her neck while slowly pushing down her panties. He lifted her up and placed her easily on his cock. She moaned with pleasure as he pressed her against the bathroom wall with his muscular chest. He ran his fingers through her hair and took in her flowery scent. “Carry me to bed.” She said between moans. He grabbed her supple legs and she placed her arms around his thick neck, his manhood penetrating her deeply. They fell together on the bed. Edmund moved in her wet pussy with slow steady strokes. She grabbed his horse shoe triceps and clawed at him as he began to pound her harder and faster. Her moans of pleasure grew louder as she began to orgasm. “Yes! Baby! Yes!” she screamed. “You like how daddy fucks you?” “Oh yes!” Just as Ed was about to reach climax he pulled out a blew his load on her face. She began to lap up his warm, creamy, salty spunk. They lay next to each other covered in sweat. Ed’s muscles glistened in the morning light that streamed in from the bedroom window. “Good cardio,” said Edmund. Bianca laughed. “Very good. I’ll go make you that big breakfast,” she said while wiping cum from around her eyes. “Can you walk to the kitchen?” Edmund snickered. She rolled her yes. “I’m used to it.” She got up and walked out of the room with a slight limp. It’s hard to get used to a 9 inch cock. He patted his manhood as he lay on the bed and relaxed. He didn’t know who he liked fucking more: men or women. Really he would fuck anyone as long as he liked the way they looked. He had fucked average guys, muscle guys, twinks, skinny girls, chubby girls, Black, White, Latin, and Asian. Any warm hole for his cock. He had only had two serious relationships, though. One with a guy over a year and a half ago and the one with Bianca. Bianca had walked up to him one night in a bar and asked to feel his arm. Ever one to show off, he struck a front double bicep pose for her. She gawked at his size, and he was smaller then than he was now. She confided in him that she had never been with a bodybuilder before. They fucked that night and had been Fucking ever since. She liked muscle and she liked cooking. Two things that made her perfect for Edmund and the club. Several times a month she would cook for the whole club, but she only had desires for Edmund. She didn’t even have a problem with his bisexuality telling him “I don’t mind if you fuck guys every now and then to satisfy the urge so long as you use protection and I’m the only woman.” Edmond could smell the scent of food wafting from the kitchen. He rose out of bed and put on a pair of boxers. As he entered the kitchen Bianca turned to him. She was topless, wearing only her panties. She often walked around topless when she knew the other club members were out. Thomas was at a photo shoot and Daniel and Brendon were in class. They’d be gone most of the day. “I was just about to call you,” Said Bianca. “Smells good,” Ed said as he sat down at the kitchen table. Bianca began to serve him his breakfast. First she sat a down a six egg cheese omelet with 2 turkey sausage links. Edmond dove in with his fork like he hadn’t eaten in days. While he chewed on eggs and sausage she placed a plate of 3 whole wheat French toasts with whipped cream and berries and a bowl of Greek yogurt and granola in front of him. He wasted no time attacking that a well. She ate two scrambled eggs a piece of toast and a banana. “This is great babe.” Ed managed to say between bites and mmms. Bianca beamed with pride. She loved seeing a man enjoy her cooking. When Ed was done eating he washed the meal down with a tall glass of whole milk. He patted his distended belly. The food baby pushing out his abs made it look like he had a tortoise shell for a stomach. “I won’t be over here much in the next week Eddy Bear,” Said Bianca. “Huh, why?” Ed let out a loud belch. “I’ve got a huge test coming up that I need to study for. When I’m not in class I’ll be studying at my place. Here I might be too distracted.” Her gaze left his face and moved down to his muscles. “Already,” Said Edmond, “School just started back.” “Pre-med,” she said, shaking her head. “It might just kill me.” “With the money you’ll be making I guess the hard work will be worth it,” Edmund said. “After I pay off the student loans.” Bianca stood up and cleared the dishes. She started to wash them. “Don’t,” said Edmund. “You’re gonna wash them?” she looked apprehensive. “We’re going to be breaking in a new house boy on Saturday and I want to make sure he has a lot of work to do.” Bianca stopped, and stared at him. “Is he cute.” “I think so.” Edmund smiled. “He’s smaller than you.” “No way.” She looked surprised. Edmond laughed. “What’s his name?” “Aron Ocampo” “Will you fuck him?” Edmunds face was now serious. “Probably, but I haven’t forgotten our deal. You’re the only one for me baby.” He got up and pecked her on the lips. She looked up at him and seemed satisfied. “Don’t work him too hard baby,” said Bianca. “We’ve got to see what he’s made of. Make sure he’s really a submissive.” Bianca showered and changed into her clothes. Before leaving she informed him that she had fixed his protein shake and put it in the fridge for him to drink later They parted with one final kiss. Edmund put on his workout shorts and headed to the garage gym for a heavy shoulder session. Truthfully, he was glad Bianca would be gone for a week. He wanted to use that time to get to know Aron better. Much better. He hoisted up two 65-pound dumbbells and began to shoulder press them. With each rep he could feel his muscles becoming pumped. He concentrated on the muscle contraction as he watched himself in the mirror. In his mind he wasn’t lifting weights. He was lifting the twink, Aron, over his head again and again. His cock grew hard at the thought of Aron’s frail thin body next to his own robust hulking frame. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. More to come...

EBFs and SIZE FREAKS BY LORUS (formerly JP71) Haven’t written in years. Thought I was done with this. Deleted every other story I wrote. But then this happened. If I get enough positive feedback, I’ll do another chapter. Enjoy. Lee loved working at Aldersons Supermarket. Although the pay wasn't as much as he'd gotten from his previous employer, it had its perks. He didn't have to get two buses there and back, as the supermarket was just a ten minute walk from his flat. The staff were fun to be around, and his boss Eugene was extremely nice to his staff, especially to Lee, as they were both openly gay and sometimes had drinks after work at a popular gay bar called Shirtlifters. But the best perk of all came from the fact that Aldersons was across the street from Gridiron Gym. It was a hard-core gym for genetically super-gifted bodybuilders. Lee was 20 years old but puberty had declined to give him much meat on his bones. He had a lanky, slim build, weighing just 135 pounds despite his six feet of height. But this never bothered him, as he was very good looking, even with glasses, and had no problem hooking up with other twinks. Lee had obsessed over huge muscle-men since early adolescence, when thumbing through bodybuilding magazines, many of which were now ruined by cum-sodden fingers and lots of drool. When he got a computer for his 16th birthday, the internet satisfied his muscle lust to a greater degree. He tried bodybuilding himself when he got a gym membership, but he lacked the discipline necessary to make it habitual. But he liked swimming and cycling, and this way he kept fit but very slender. He wished he had a bodybuilder for a boyfriend, and a fair few bodybuilders were regulars at the supermarket, which, naturally, stocked bodybuilding supplements and even some clothing for working out. To Lee's dismay the bodybuilders using Gridiron Gym all seemed straight, and most of them would be seen getting regular groceries with their girlfriends or wives and kids. Still, you had to be at least 280 pounds to get a membership there. As a result the bodybuilders shopping at Aldersons were very big indeed, so Lee got to at least commit them to memory for wanking about them later on when he was at home. An obsession with huge bodybuilders wasn't the only fetish of Lee's. His other fetish was for trashed denim jeans. He especially loved jeans that had exposed button-flies down the front, but not the women's kind which were so common. He loved to see men wearing them. But they were very uncommon with guys, so Lee and his boss Eugene came up with a plan to change that. Some of the mens work pants as the standard uniform at Aldersons came with an exposed button-fly front, but it was optional. Lee and Eugene wore them all the time, but a new recruit that Lee was given to train in on the register also opted for the exposed button-fly version of the dark navy work pants. Sam was extremely cute, blonde haired, and with blue eyes and dimples. He had envious olive skin and the cutest smile. He was a little overweight at just five feet six inches tall, but the chubbiness suited him, and within a week Lee and Sam were good friends. It was hard to gauge if Sam was gay, although his liking for the same pants that Lee was into suggested he might swing that way. One sunny day in June was a dream come true for Lee Fordham. His shift was about to end and the bodybuilders coming to shop at the supermarket were wearing very little, taking advantage of the warm weather to show-off as much of their musculature as possible, and Lee had had a boner for most of the day, inhaling their sweaty muscle-musk and swooning as the bigger bodybuilders struggled to fit through the checkout aisles, which Eugene had been meaning to get widened to make his burlier customers more comfortable with the shopping experience Aldersons had to offer. Lee asked another staff member, Paul, to watch his register while he went to the toilet. He needed a leak, but also to adjust his dick inside his underwear because he was particularly horny for muscle today, and so it was hard to keep his boner from jumping to attention at every other moment. When he came back onto the shop floor his eyes widened in sheer disbelief at the glorious sight that affronted his senses. This was his first encounter with Umberto. He was the biggest bodybuilder Lee had ever seen. But even more of a shock to Lee was the first thing this gigantic muscle-god said to him: "Hey there, sexy guy. I really like those pants you're wearing. I like the way the buttons are exposed. Where can I get a pair of those for myself?" Lee's two fetishes were stimulated at the same time. He couldn't believe it. Time seemed to stand still for Lee, now, allowing him to take in every inch of the bodybuilder, who, from this moment onward would change Lee’s life for the better. At about six feet five inches tall he had a good five inches on Lee. He was stunningly handsome, added further to by the hint of Italian in his accent. Size wise, he was super-massive, enormous beyond all sane reasoning. He had to be at least five hundred pounds in weight and every part of him was bursting with hard, sinewy and heavily veined muscle all packed in by paper thin skin which was naturally tinted a golden bronze. His hair was in a topknot style, but shaved tightly at the sides and back. His eyes were beautiful brown orbs set perfectly on either side of a Romanesque nose, with somewhat high cheekbones, chiselled square jawline with the manliest designer stubble Lee had ever seen. His lips looked perfect for sucking cocks. He smiled cockily at Lee and his teeth were scintillatingly white. He had a sparkle in his eyes as he winked suggestively at Lee, and they seemed excited to see the four shiny metal buttons on Lee’s pants glinting in the rays of the sunlight pouring in through the glass store front. Umberto’s neck was bull thick and his traps stretched like Alpine mountain ranges on either side of his neck. They tapered down to hugely swollen deltoids that exploded outward in all directions, and with massive ball biceps that looked set to burst even unflexed. He wore as a garment (if it could be called such) a gauzy sleeveless plaid shirt, the sleeves looking like at some point he’d outgrown them and so tore them from the shirt to better show off his arms. It was chequered with blue, navy and white squares. He wore it completely unbuttoned, as there was no way buttons could meet button-holes on this shirt because his gargantuan ballooning pecs would never allow it. His nipples were completely pointing down, and almost invisible due to the huge shadows his pectorals cast over the top two rows of his cobbled eight-pack abdominals. They also appeared darker because he had such large dark brown areolas, and the nipples themselves both had gold nipple rings through them. Lee guessed the nipples to be bigger than the tops of his thumbs. He felt himself growing painfully erect again. Umberto seemed to like this and so he bounced and rippled his pecs to better entice Lee and fuel his muscle-lust. The pec mountains rippled and jostled against each other, bobbing up and down like a roiling sea. He could even flex the upper pecs and different striations independently, which took amazing muscle control. “You’d better be careful not to pop those buttons off your sexy pants, beautiful,” teased Umberto, and he fanned out his lats to their fullest width followed by rolling his abs around before sucking them in. This caused his shirt to part further making it seem like the sleeveless button-up shirt was little more of a stringer tank on the bodybuilding behemoth. He thinks I’m sexy, omfg, Lee thought. He could feel his underpants getting damp with precum. Below his taut waist (which had to be at least a third the width of his chest) Umberto wore denim cut-off jeans. They had slanted cuts to better emphasise his humongous thighs with bloated quadriceps and hamstrings, all beautifully cut and separated and covered in thick veins which bulged more and more as he wobbled his thighs and then snapped them into tight, rock hard muscle relief. The best thing about the cut-offs was not only did they make his legs look even more monstrous than they were, but at some point Umberto had taken a scissors to the jeans, not only to cut them into bodybuilder shorts, but he also removed the waistband, making them look sexier and smaller on him. This also showed more of his cum-gutters that led down to the top part of dark man-bush poking out over the top of the shorts. Lee was transfixed. He once wore a pair of exposed button-fly Levis to a gay bar, and also had removed the waistband to better customise the look and show the beginning of his pubic line when he’d take his shirt off to dance shirtless on the dance floor and hopefully cop off with another cutie who liked the skinny twink boys. So far Lee could tell that Umberto had some of the same clothing tastes as he did. Umberto was in no way modest. He had no problem flirting with guys that all stood around them in shock at his size and beauty. He did a lat spread which further caused his upper body to flex and swell, as if he was growing right before their astonished eyes. Paul was amazed at this display, and forgot to scan half the groceries on his till for an elderly lady who didn’t even notice she was in the presence of a giant bodybuilding muscle hunk. She just grumbled to herself and fumbled in her purse for money. Sam stood on the floor next to the fresh flowers and said nothing, but he was able to get a better look at Umberto from behind. It was simply impossible not to stare at the biggest, most muscular man they’d ever seen. A male shopper, who lived in the same flat complex as Lee, and whose name was Keith, started to drool over Umberto. He was behind the old lady at Paul’s till and he should have been unloading his groceries onto the conveyor, but he was mesmerised by the size of the bodybuilding bodybuilder. He kept mouthing it on his lips: “Bodybuilding, bodybuilder, bodybuilt because he’s a bodybuilder that bodybuilds!” Over and over he chanted this mantra, and Keith, who was in his mid-20s or so, had a bit of muscle on him from playing rugby, but he also had a fair bit of fat on his frame hiding any definition that his muscle had beneath. But he was one of these cocky types who even though they no longer played sports as well as in their younger years, still kept a certain amount of muscle mass. He dressed as if he was a bodybuilder, unashamed of the fact that his once meaty pecs now looked more like man-boobs than pectorals. His arms were doughier, but still muscled, and he wore a cutaway tee-shirt that left just a thin panel of fabric between his tits so that most of his torso front and back was on show. He had a bit of a gut on him but he could still suck it in. He had blue eyes and sandy-gingerish hair, and freckles which lent him a more youthful look. At six foot two inches tall he was quite broad shouldered in that “I lift weights but not as much as I should” way. Were he to spend a couple of months hitting the weights, he’d easily get rid of the thirty-five pounds of fat he was carrying. He also wore denim jeans, but cut off just above the knee. He had wide hips that actually looked good on him. Back to Umberto’s cut-offs. Lee could see that the panel covering the button-fly was pushed away from the buttons by the sheer mass of cock and ball meat he had pushing it out. He was obviously hung like a horse, bigger even, Lee guessed. Unashamedly Umberto enjoyed his cocky display of hyper-masculinity. He cranked out a massive most-muscular, laughing and growling for fun. His traps trebled their mass and his pectorals bunched together creating a cleavage that could hide and crush a rolling pin. Biceps threatened to burst out of their skin and went to war for space against his forearms. Threads began to snap apart across Umberto’s shirt at the back as the seams clung on for dear life. Even though unbuttoned, there was way too much mass for the fabric to cope with. Umberto didn’t care as his muscles burst into diamond-hard relief as veins gorged on blood and thickened all over his body. “Reckon I’ll be popping my own buttons real soon,” he cockily suggested with a wink and smug grin. He nodded his brand of self-assured alpha-male conceit at the males in proximity. He owned the moment as much as he could own them all if he so desired. “I’m Umberto, sexy man,” began the bodybuilder, this time back to making his pectoral masses heave and bulge to a massive degree. Then: “You never answered my question. About your exposed button-fly pants. This huge bodybuilding god wants a pair for himself, sexy man.” “Ughh…um…I… I’m Lee,” was all Lee could manage to stammer, his mouth suddenly parchment dry. Inside in the manager’s office, Eugene had been watching the spectacle unfold (and bulge hugely) on the CCTV monitors. They were constantly recording in HD colour and full audio, so he made damn sure he’d get all this onto a memory stick for further “examination” later at home in front of his PC with his jocks down around his ankles. He’d been listening, too. Omg, he thought, this giant wants to join the EBF club. “EBF” was short for exposed button-fly. But we don’t have pants to fit him in stock. Unless… Eugene gingerly came out of the office holding a pair of scissors and bashfully handed them to Lee, gesturing to Umberto’s bulging crotch with a nod of his head and then back at Lee. Lee knew what to do. “Er…,” he licked his lips, trying to moisten his mouth to speak. “I cuh-could customise your shorts if you like, Um… Umberto. Make the buttons visible. Only take a sec.” Lee had no idea if Umberto would be satisfied with that. Umberto stopped bouncing his pecs and stuck his thumbs into the top of his cut-offs where a waistband had once been. “Sure, that sounds great. I’ll be even fuckin’ sexier after you make my shorts even hotter. Careful though, I’m really sensitive in the crotch area. You never know what’ll happen if your hand slips while using the scissors,” Umberto teased, suggesting Lee perform the “delicate fashion surgery” while he still wore the shorts. “Um, maybe you should take them off, just to be on the safe side,” said Lee, relieved that he could speak again after moisture returned to his mouth. Elsewhere more moisture was gathering in his underpants as his dick oozed precum. A dark stain became more evident down the front of his EBFs. “Good idea. I should go somewhere to change. Don’t want grandma here to get a fright,” said Umberto, briefly tipping his head towards the oblivious old lady still fumbling in her purse. Eugene said they could use his office, which, thankfully, also had a camera, so he could have it all recorded. Eugene put in the door code and gestured for the muscle giant to go in. Umberto was almost level with the top of the door frame, his topknot flattened as he twisted and grunted his way through a doorway not designed for enormous bodybuilders. “Come along, sexy Lee, make my shorts look like your sexy, oh so sexy pants, little stud.” Umberto was full of compliments for the bespectacled hot twink. Since he was new in town, he’d resolve to make Aldersons his place to shop. It was by now obvious he had a thing for slim young twinks in exposed button-fly pants. Eugene took over on the till, but his mind was elsewhere and the customers he served got some bargains in their shopping as he forgot to scan every other item. Once in the manager’s office Umberto’s mood kicked up a notch. He tore the shirt off his bulbous mega-muscled upper body and tossed it at Lee. “Souvenir for ya. You can keep it, sexy Lee. I workout all the time in that shirt, and it’s never washed. My stink is all over it. Here, have a deep sniff of my muscle-sweat stink.” Lee’s dick was rock hard, now. Fully erect it could reach ten inches. Skinny twinks were often blessed with disproportionately large penises, lucky them. But when he allowed himself to inhale Umberto’s pungent bodybuilder whiff, it made him nearly jizz his pants. A bigger circle of dampness now surrounded the four buttons on his fly. Umberto puffed himself up to his biggest size and hit pose after pose, each one squeezing more and more blood through his super-highway of veins, so his muscles could gorge and grow frenziedly with more size and definition. “I had the best workout today, sexy lanky Lee. Benched 1000 pounds for 8 sets of 12 reps. The other muscle-fucks over there almost came when they saw me break by own record for the fifth time straight. Awwww… I feel fucking huge today.” Umberto hit a double biceps pose. His 33 inch biceps crunched up another few inches till his knuckles were almost trekking across their peaks. It was astonishing to think that Lee, being so slender, only had a 27 and a half inch waist. His fucking waist was smaller than Umberto’s titanic biceps. How big was his chest? OMG, it had to be at least 80 inches, maybe more. “Right, get to work on my cut-offs here, and then we can have some fun. I noticed your boss has a bottle of hand lotion on his desk. He must get up to all sorts in here watching his cute male staff at work through the monitors.” In actual fact this was exactly what Eugene often got up to when he should have been doing product orders or staff rosters. And he often liked to wank at the bodybuilders that came in to do their shopping. Umberto was enormous. He had that sexy waddle to his walk, when bodybuilders grow their legs so big that the thighs hit against one another for space, and not only that, the huge junk afforded to him by winning the genetic lottery was forced more outwards from his body. His pectoral shelf of meaty slabs stuck out so far from his upper torso that it was impossible for him to see below them unless he bent forwards, but even that was not always ideal for performing certain tasks. He would always button up his pants in front of a mirror, always making sure never to miss a button. He hated when guys would miss buttons, especially if they were drunk at bars. Lee hated that as well. And being a wearer exclusively of exposed button-fly jeans and pants, he always made sure to fasten his buttons carefully, given they were on show for all to see. Umberto’s biceps and forearms fought a war for space as he tried to unbutton his cut-offs. He was so pumped from his workout, and he knew he was bigger now than he had been before hitting Gridiron earlier. “Oh dear, I’m so fucking huge, getting undressed is becoming a chore for me. Here, Lee, unbutton my shorts for me. Careful now, something huge might spring up and slap you in the face! Hah!” Lee painfully fought the urge to cum right there and then. He walked over to the giant (oh fuck he smelled even better than his shirt). But there was a problem. Umberto’s pecs were so huge (even more so when flexed) that Lee had to get beneath them to unbutton the behemoth’s cut-offs. “Heh heh, sorry my balloons are taking up so much room. I can barely see my dick when I’m peeing. But hey, you gotta make adjustments to your life’s route when you choose the bodybuilding journey. How’s it going down there with the denim?” “Two buttons open so far, Umberto.” Lee tried not to breathe in the spunky musk smell wafting up at him from Umberto’s stinky dark man-bush. Fuck did he even take a shower after his workout? And he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Lee was kind of disappointed, as he’d hoped to see Umberto in a skimpy poser or thong of some kind. The beginning of a mammoth cock appeared as Lee worked on Umberto’s buttons. “Kinda tickles down there, Lee. Go easy on Junior. He gets ‘very’ restless a lot. Umberto made a massive lat spread there and then, simply because he could, heaving his bodybuilder bosoms up higher, the nipples warping from the downward position to almost dead-centre of his fully flexed and insanely striated balloons. “There you have enough room to work with now. I can keep these fuckers flexed like this for as long as I like. Wait, let me grunt out some more, and get the testosterone surging right to my pec-meats. Watch these fuckers grow more. MORE!!!! MOAAAAR!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!” Umberto flexed his upper body more savagely now, ballooning impossibly larger. “Gotta get this chest past a hundred. GOTTA GET BIGGER!” Lee was stunned. He couldn’t move a muscle of his own except to gaze up in awe at possibly the biggest bodybuilder ever to do bodybuilding and look like he was getting bigger by the second. That was impossible, right? Wasn’t it? Umberto became more arrogant, now demanding what he wanted from Lee. “Get those shorts off me, boy. I want EBFs like yours. NOW!!!!” Lee’s lust made all this seem coated in a dreamy haze. He could hear his heart beating in his head. His senses began to melt, then congeal into a soupy puddle. But the bodybuilder had set him a task, therefore he must finish it. Umberto’s thighs were 48 inches of solid muscle, and so getting the shorts off was like rolling on a condom, in reverse. Lee had to force them past his thighs, which took some effort. By now Umberto's dick was out, not quite hard, but not quite flaccid. Lee was amazed to see that it had to be easily over a foot long, maybe more. It had twice the amount of veins on it as average penises, and the mushroom head was big, purple and shiny, and easily four times the average size. A ropy string of precum began to extend downward to the floor from its delicious slit. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to ride a monster cock of that magnitude, although he’d seen several twinks on porn sites fooling around with fake dicks even bigger than Umberto’s, resulting in those horrid prolapsed or herniated rectums that some sick fuckers were into. When Lee finally got the shorts down to his ankles, the behemoth relaxed his flexing and stepped out of the shorts. Lee could finally get to work with the scissors. “Make sure you do a good job on them, Lee. I ruined many pairs customising them in the past. Of course, I was smaller back then. A LOT smaller,” Umberto boasted. “Er… I’m pretty good at this, Umberto. I cut many of my own pairs when I couldn’t buy them off the rack,” said Lee, sitting at Eugene’s desk so he could work on the shorts. “Yeah, they’re hard to find, especially to fit my hulking frame. Clothes and me usually part company way too soon. But that’s the price you pay for bodybuilding.” Umberto bounced his pecs and then allowed some precum to pool in his callused palm. He licked it for no apparent reason but to get off on his own freaky size. Lee worked with his back to the bodybuilder so he could concentrate better. He also refrained from looking at the monitors, one of which was showing the giant making lots of bodybuilding poses. But at least his grunting and moans of self-indulgent pleasure wasn’t too much of a distraction. Lee’s hands trembled slightly due to extreme muscle-lust. The smell of muscle-man stink hung heavily in the musty air of the office. There was an air conditioner on the wall but it hadn’t worked in ages. Oh Eugene, lusting after men on the monitors and forgetting to take care of Alderson’s maintenance. Naughty Eugene. He held his breath as he made the scissor blades connect with the denim. He just about managed to cut away the panel covering the fly buttons of the Levis 501s. They were a bit faded, well worn in, and smelly as fuck. He saw that they might be counterfeits, as there was a “CM” on the back label below the waist and leg measurements, which Lee knew to mean “custom made”. It made sense. Umberto’s upper leg to waist ratio – not to mention his massively developed glutes – meant that shopping for regular Levis was impossible. The little red tag on the back pocket also seemed slightly larger than usual. But fuck it, they still looked hot. After a short time, Lee was done cutting. He was pleased with the result. The inner panel through which the button-holes were punched was a couple of shades darker than the now removed front panel. This was because they were less faded due to being protected from direct sunlight, so this effect made the buttons stand out more. Hey, this was one of Lee’s fetishes (tame compared to the absolute filth some people got off to), so he was an expert when it came to jeans customisation. He swivelled around in Eugene’s chair and nervously held up the now sexier shorts for Umberto to inspect. “Hey, they look great. Bet they’ll look even better when I put ‘em back on, Lee. Thank you for doing this. You don’t mind helping me back on with my new EBFs?” “Sure, but I’m being honest with you, Umberto. I haven’t had a wank since yesterday. My balls are gonna explode if I don’t do something about it,” said Lee in earnest. He stooped to allow the bodybuilder to step back into the shorts. “Don’t worry, sexy Lee. Just do this one thing for huge bodybuilder Umberto Morelli, and I’ll award you and help you take care of your little problem, although judging by how soaked the front of your EBFs are, you must have quite the equipment packed away so Umberto can’t see it.” He made a playful sad clown face. Lee thought it was really hot whenever Umberto referred to himself in the third person, like he was objectifying himself as a big, dumb hunk of muscle. It was much harder getting the shorts back up past Umberto’s redwoods for thighs, but he finally managed it. Now it was time to stuff back in Umberto’s generous trouser snake and orange-sized balls. It suddenly occurred to him that these custom-made shorts (originally full-length blue jeans) had five buttons on the fly, which meant that had the waistband not been removed, there would have been six vertical shiny metal buttons. It made sense. The extra button would be necessary to fasten over a larger crotch size. They looked so good. One by one Lee carefully buttoned up the EBFs, but Umberto’s junk made the crotch front strain so that the buttons were put under pressure, same as the gaps that can appear between the shirt buttons of a strained dress shirt on a fat or muscular man whose lifestyles made them quickly outgrow shirts. It took plenty of effort on Lee’s part, and by the time he was finished he was somewhat depleted of stamina. At least less stamina helped to stem the flow of his impending jizz torrent and delay it slightly. “All done, Umberto,” Lee panted and slumped back into Eugene’s office chair. “Mmmm, they feel a little tighter this time. You sure you didn’t take them in a little?” Umberto was joking, of course. He knew that all Lee did was free the button-fly from beneath its denim concealment. The spicy Italian flexed and rolled his sequoia thighs, hammering out definition and hardness that would make the Hulk faint with jealousy. Unseen by Lee, he flexed his huge glutes around at his arsehole, forcing the button-fly to strain even further. Lee gasped as tufts of the bodybuilder’s pubic forest began to poke through the gaps forced to appear between the buttons. The shorts seemed doomed to come apart, and explosively so. “Nuh-no, sir,” answered Lee, his stammer having returned. “Hmm, maybe the lack of decent air in this office is forcing the denim to shrink, or something,” Umberto offered in the way of a jest. He could feel himself getting bigger and bigger. He loved it. It was his ultimate obsession, to force his muscles to grow bigger, harder, and stronger than ever before in front of a sexy skinny twink set to blow his load at any moment. Umberto brought his hands up behind his head and locked his calloused fingers together (the ones you only get from lifting very heavy weights and wearing out too many lifting gloves). He flexed for all he was worth (which was a hell of a lot), flaring out his lats to their engorged fullest. He tightened up his abs and rolled his thigh muscles faster and harder, taking it in turns to snap the muscles of each leg hard and bulging, which forced his shorts to strain further as his genitals got hungry for some growth of their own. “I’m so fuckin’ huge, Lee. I can scarcely believe it. Look at the fuckin’ size of me. Tell me how huge I am, sexy little man!” Umberto was so turned on by his own masculine fervency. He popped a huge double biceps and then turned sideways to explode into a ridiculously huge side chest pose. His muscle tits roared frenziedly with size, almost bursting like beach balls, and the veins on his forearms flared hot, thick and dark over papery golden bronze skin. “You… are the… biggest, most muscular god of a man… gasp… I’ve ever seen,” Lee stated through a voice heavy with rasping muscle lust. “That’s true, alright. In fact, in reality, I’m not the biggest. Not yet anyway. But I’ll explain all that in due course,” said the bodybuilder who brought down his hands to dig his thumbs into his sides in order to inflate up to a monstrous lat spread. His delta wings swelled and widened. His pectoral masses heaved and burst upwards and outwards with size and power; the upper pecs alone began to constrict his airflow and brush against his granite chin, forcing him to lean his head backwards to better show off the massive size he was capable of displaying. “Hmm, but I really want to check out for myself the glorious sight of me wearing my cut-away EBF slut shorts, only there are no mirrors in here. What’s a massive bodybuilder to do, gorgeous Lee?” Umberto was such a tease, but Lee didn’t want it to stop, not ever. Moaning with lust, his scant chest heaving under his trim work polo shirt, Lee gestured to another door to Eugene’s office. It led to the rear of the supermarket and to a corridor that connected to several rooms, amongst them the staff toilets, changing rooms, plus a showering facility and staff canteen. At the end of the corridor were a set of double doors that led out back to where stock was stored and deliveries taken in. Other double doors connected to the store’s front of house through which staff could move fresh stock on pallets and trolleys for restocking of the shelves; all typical supermarket stuff. “The men’s changing room has a mirror, maybe even wide enough to show you in your entirety. Through there, and second door on the right,” Lee gestured. “Hmm, that may do. But you’ll have to come with me. I need you to witness how I react to seeing me wearing my first pair of EBFs. Can’t do this without a sexy witness to make the event official,” Umberto declared, sealing the deal with a bounce of his floppy, huge pectorals, which he deftly forced to snap taut and hard as bricks. Umberto squeezed his bulk through the door to the back corridor, Lee obediently following. “Um… bring that lotion with you, sexy Lee. We’re definitely gonna need it.” He sealed the remark with another deliciously sexy wink. The doors to the changing rooms (the other one being for female staff, although only three girls currently worked at Alderson’s) were not as wide as the previous doors Umberto had to stoop and squeeze through. This time he made sure his body was pumped up to its fullest as he tried to squeeze through. “Hmm, this won’t do. Good job you brought that lotion, Lee. You’re gonna have to lotion me up to help me squeeze all this muscled manliness through your inferior little changing room door,” said Umberto assuredly. “Oh fuck, Umberto, your sexy little Lee is gonna come very very soon,” Lee said, groaning as his lust gained further power over him. He noticed that he was becoming a little more daring with the choice of words he used to talk to the bodybuilder. “Don’t be shy, my sexy, and quite potential boyfriend-in-waiting. Lube me up so I can revel at the sight of my sexy exposed button-fly denim cut-offs.” Umberto’s voice had deepened to a sexy husky tone, and the slight Italian accent lent it a crisp accentuation that only added to his overall sexiness. His “boyfriend-in-waiting”. Had Lee heard him correctly, or was it just wishful thinking playing tricks on the twink’s hearing? “Okay, just a little bit longer. The right time for you to come is fast approaching. Hang in there a little. But before you unscrew the cap from the lotion bottle, I wanna sniff something to further heighten my own lust, which is now not only just self-adoring muscle lust, but also a lust for something else,” said Umberto, extending his reach as if to engulf Lee with his size and strength. Lee somehow knew what Umberto wanted to do. He completely gave in; he was powerless to resist. He let himself get picked up by Umberto, which the bodybuilder did all too easily. “Fuck, you feel weightless to me,” said Umberto after lifting Lee several feet off the floor. He raised him up so that his crotch was level with the most handsome face Lee had ever seen. Nay, not handsome… Umberto was beautiful beyond sane reasoning. The giant bodybuilder muscle-god pressed his nose and mouth to Lee’s crotch. He inhaled slowly and deeply, enjoying the aroma and wetness of Lee’s precum-sodden work pants. “Yum… you smell fantastic down there, sexy Lee,” said Umberto before running his tongue up and down Lee’s crotch area, liking the taste of the precum and the metallic aftertaste left from the buttons on his fly. He wanted to hold him tight and hug him forever, but there was still work to be done. In order to get to the mirror in the changing room, he had to fit through the door. The lotion was a vital tool that would help make that happen. How did I last this long, thought Lee as he squeezed a good handful of lotion into his palm. He’d lost track of the normal passage of time ever since first laying eyes on Umberto Morelli. It could have been minutes that passed, or hours; he just didn’t know one from the other. Usually he’d have jizzed himself well before now, and that wasn’t even in the presence of a muscle-god, just regular bodybuilders or porn stuff on the internet. He’d fucked plenty of guys since exploding onto the gay scene a couple years previously, and he’d even gone through a premature ejaculatory phase, however, that changed as he learned to fuck properly and make it as pleasurable as possible for both giver and receiver. It seemed as though his libido had developed a mind of its own and was helping Lee to keep itself holding on as long as possible so as not to ruin a single moment of an incredible situation that continued to intensify and drive his lust factor through the roof. “Oh I see your boss likes the good stuff,” Umberto commented, noticing the lotion was one of the more expensive brands. He beamed a broad grin and then turned around so his back was facing towards Lee. “Start by lotioning up my back, sexy boyfriend,” Umberto urged cheekily. Lee was stunned. He said ‘boyfriend’ this time, without the ‘in-waiting’ part. Lee began to worry this was some bizarre dream he was having. He’d passed out right at the till once before because he’d been late for his shift that morning and so had had to skip breakfast. Maybe the same thing had happened this time. Had he forgotten to eat today? His brain melted and turned to runny gloop which didn’t help. But it felt too real – far too stimulating – to be a dream. This had to be real. Umberto appeared to be into Lee as much as Lee was into him. Umberto was everything Lee could have ever dreamed of and lusted for. But was this as far as it would go? Could there be anything beyond this incredible encounter with a muscle-god? Lee made sure his hands and fingers were well-coated with the moisturising lotion. Umberto thought it fun to stand in front of the changing room door and fan out his back to its widest by doing a rear lat-spread, showing how the door was almost half a foot narrower on each side than his back and shoulders. Lee gasped, feeling himself go all wobbly. Still, he must soldier on. Umberto was adamant that Lee carry out his duty to its fullest. “Wow this door is ridiculously narrow, Lee my man. See how I’ve widened my back to make it easier for you to rub on the lotion? Wouldn’t want your delightful digits to get eaten up by the deep cuts between my back muscles. I could hide loose change in those muscle gullies. Heh!” Lee tentatively touched Umberto’s skin, starting at the lower back region. His waist-to-shoulder ratio was insane. Most men opted for a V-taper and so worked out to achieve that. But if Umberto’s taper were to be represented by a letter of the alphabet, it would be a very big uppercase ‘V’ in bold, with three ‘W’s side by side on top. Something like that anyway. Lee was aghast at how smooth, but hard the skin felt, as the muscles were expanded to their fullest. He gasped with a mixture of lust and anxiety as he rubbed in the lotion and quickly relaxed and began to enjoy the sensation of working his lotioned hands up and across the massive delta of Umberto’s back. “Wow, that feels so good, Lee. Keep going. Get more on there. I need to be really slippery with lotion so’s I can get through this fucking door. I can’t wait to see what I look like in my very much improved bodybuilder slut shorts.” Umberto was nothing but playfully and lustily enthusiastic. He was enjoying this experience as much as Lee was. Lee was silent now, concentrating on the task, trying his best to commit every muscle bump and valley to memory, in case he never saw Umberto again after this encounter. This memory would be deposited in his ‘wank bank’ forever after, and hopefully the ruined shirt Umberto had given him as a gift would never lose its muscle man-stink. Lee ran out of lotion half way up the spread of Umberto’s muscle wings, and so he had to squirt another good glob of it into his palm. He lubed his palms up again and returned to exploring the ever-moistening expanse of Umberto’s muscular landscape stretched before him. This time the lotion bottle made that sound when there is more air than lotion coming out of the nozzle. “Jeez, sexy Lee, I hope there’s enough lotion in that bottle. You still need to lube up my shoulders, beachball pectorals, arms and maybe even my legs, if I stand a chance of seeing myself in that mirror. I really can’t wait to look at myself properly since my last workout. I know I’m bigger than I was this morning. I need to see it or I’ll get upset. And you wouldn’t like to see Umberto get upset.” Umberto changed his pose to a rear double biceps. His mountainous arms bunched up and became rock hard boulders, thick veins cracking up through the skin the more he flexed. His rear traps and other back muscles bunched together and bulged to extremes as Lee worked more lotion into them. His palms quickly ran dry of the lotion and it was time for another squirt. There was only one squirt left. “Muh-maybe enough for your shoulders… and pecs, I think,” Lee once again stammered. “Shit, that may not be enough. Look at the fucking size of my shoulders, their sheer width even bones me up more than ever. And my pectorals are fucking gigantic.” Once again turning to face the incredibly fortunate twink, Umberto expertly made his muscle-tits bounce and roll and crack one striation after another across their corpulent masses. His pectorals were actually disproportionately large compared with the rest of his muscles. Umberto liked it that way, having a balloon chest so busty, it was getting harder and harder to see over them. When he’d be lying on the bench, pressing 1000 pounds of weight over and over, his entire field of vision would be taken up by super-swollen biceps pressing against the size of his pecs. In turn, this combined with the superior weight they displaced, making them bulge obscenely upward and forming a muscle cleavage that a grown man could lose a hand and wrist in, possibly half his forearm too. But he still wasn’t satisfied with the size of his pecs, or his overall size. “Lube up my big pecs next, sexy boy,” Umberto commanded, his tone guttural and his breath heavy, “I’ll bounce them like fucking crazy while you’re doing it.” Lee moaned lustily as he worked the cream into the heaving bodybuilder-bosoms. They felt so heavy as his fingers lingered around the swollen under-swells of his lower pectorals. He felt their heft in his hands and they had to weigh at least forty pounds apiece, maybe more. Umberto heaved and squeezed them together, forcing them to bulge hugely, inviting Lee to explore the canyon his busty pectorals formed as they were pressed together. “Work that cream into my cleavage, Lee, and then into the big dimples I can form on each side of my outer pectorals with minimal effort, just by lightly squeezing my biceps. I don’t even have to flex that much to dimple out my titan-tits.” Sure enough a deep delicious dimple formed on each side of Umberto’s pecs, big enough for Lee’s fists to become embedded in. More pec squeezing enticed Lee’s fingers to sensuously scurry his fingers across the massive globes, until finally he could bury his lotion-smeared digits deep into Umberto’s canyon cleavage. The cleavage hungrily devoured the lotion along with Lee’s fingers and even part of the hands themselves. Lee gasped further, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his dick pushing out his button-fly pants even further. He was close to blowing his wad. But still, Umberto demanded he explore further. “My pecs can swell even more if you play with my monster nips, Lee. Go on, tickle and twist them. Enjoy my nubs as much as they will enjoy you,” Umberto urged, throwing his head back in the throes of utter muscle bliss. He was obsessed with bodybuilding. He would never stop bodybuilding. He needed to bodybuild more and more, increasing in size and getting stronger, hotter, and way more beautiful than he currently was. And Lee would be his muse-cum-helper monkey, to put it into an amusing context. Lee got hold of the downward pointing nipples, each bigger than the tops of his thumbs. He started by inserting his fingers into each nipple ring and tugging them downward. The nubs felt so firm, so large and manly, and it took a bit of effort on Lee’s part to make them yield. The rings were quite sexy to interact with, but he wanted to give his full attention to the nipples proper. He removed his fingers from the rings so he could grasp the nipple flesh. He twisted them and played with them for a bit. Umberto gasped and moaned, loving every moment. He bounced the fuck out of his muscle boobs, working more and more blood and testosterone into them and causing a surge of both throughout his body. Both men had completely forgotten they were in the staff back area of a supermarket. This experience for both of them transcended reality, leaving behind the here and now. There was only timeless muscle-lust and the bliss it coerced into being. “Unnngh… so good, Lee. I love how you play with my nubs, and how you made my pectorals moist and glistening. More lotion, though… around my deltoids and upper arms. I need to get through that door now… NOW! I gotta see how I look in my exposed button-fly bodybuilder whore-denims before I fucking EXPLODE!!!! Grrrr!” The lotion was all but used up. Lee managed to get a little out onto his palm and did his best to smear as much as he could over the areas requested – nay, demanded – by Umberto. The melon-sized delts glistened less than satisfactorily as the lotion finally gave up its ghost. Lee began to panic. He needed to let some pressure out from his painfully tight boner crotch. He undid the waistband button and two of the fly buttons of his pants, and pushed his hand past the elastic of his boxer briefs in order to adjust his junk. It helped a little. How have I not come yet, he thought? Is it possible that Umberto exerted such a hold over him that he was capable of delaying Lee’s impending orgasm and explosion of jizz on a subliminal level? This chemistry between them had to be explored further. Umberto had fucked hundreds of men, mostly bodybuilders, and not one of them had had this much of an effect on his muscle arousal as that which Lee was capable of making him feel. A super skinny twink with glasses, and he was driving Umberto crazy with muscle lust, urging him to swell bigger and bigger than his muscles had swelled before. “I could run out to the shop floor and grab some more lotion from the shelf, if you like, buh… but I don’t think I’ll last long enough to get out there. My erection is now at full mast, Umberto. I’m packing ten inches of twink meat down there, and besides, I had to undo some of my buttons. Can’t do them back up again, not yet anyway,” Lee explained in honesty. “There’s no time for that, boyfriend,” Umberto growled. He said that word again. This was their first encounter and already he was calling him ‘boyfriend’. He continued: “I’ll just have to improvise. Grrrrrrr”. Umberto had to stoop and turn sideways to attempt to get through the door. His lotioned pecs and back created a sideways girth wider than the door by almost a foot. He was sweaty now, so at least the sweat was mixing with the lotion and helping him lube up further. But it still wasn’t enough to get through the door and to the precious mirror beyond. “Right. Fuck this!!!” Somehow he managed to squeeze partway through the door, his knees bent to lower his height somewhat. Then he attempted a half-twist of his body to force himself through further. He began to flex. Then he flexed some more. Then he flexed huger and huger. Lee heard the sound of splintering wood. Some plaster became dislodged from around the doorframe. Slowly but surely, Umberto was transforming the dimensions of the door frame to accommodate his gigantic muscle mass. The door itself, which had been opened inwards, immediately broke away from its hinges and flew across the changing room to strike a row of lockers at the back of the room. This gave Umberto a couple more inches to work with. The door frame buckled further. Wood continued to crack and split along with masonry becoming loose around the door frame. “Nearly there. Shoulders almost through!” He had now widened the door sufficiently to stand face to face with Lee, each mighty shoulder pushing the door frame out further on either side. Still with his head bowed forward and his knees half-bent, Umberto proceeded to bring himself up to full height. The backs of his traps bore the full force of mutilating the crossbeam that formed the horizontal top of the door frame. He applied more and more force, deforming the door further as he pushed upwards and outwards simultaneously. Was this a load-bearing wall? Lee was no architect, but Umberto’s incredible display of power made him not care if the entire store came down around them. He had all the buttons of his pants open, now, so it made it slightly easier for him to further resist the urge to blow his wad. The first three inches of his above average dick poked out of the top of his boxer briefs. No point hiding it now. “Wow, I look forward to getting to know your cock, Lee sexy man,” drooled Umberto as he flexed to his full height and titanic width. The door frame came completely away from the wall around it, shattering into splinters, which, fortunately, didn't find a home anywhere near Lee’s delicate skin. Still, Lee found himself having to run to a safe distance further down the corridor as Umberto finished performing such a superhuman feat of strength, The ceiling hadn’t collapsed, so that was something to be thankful for, but the damage was significant. Eugene would not be pleased, but with everything getting recorded by his CCTV, he’d have wank material to last him the rest of his life. A little structural damage could be dealt with easily enough. “There, now THAT’s a door befitting a bodybuilder my size. Fuck the prick who decided to create a door for hobbits,” Umberto boasted, pleased with his handiwork. Once through the door and into the changing room, Umberto pumped up to his full height and width, flaring his lats and bouncing his pectoral mountains simultaneously. He was a bit disappointed when he saw the mirror. “That’s a bit shit. Okay, so it’s a full length mirror, but it’s only two feet wide. I’m three times that wide, maybe. But it’ll have to do.” Umberto relaxed his posing and stood as far back from the mirror as the size of the room would allow. The fluorescent light overhead was bright and sufficient. Umberto looked down at his cut-offs, with their missing waistband, shortened length, and the exposed button-fly. His reflection (or part of it) filled the entire mirror. “Fucking amazing. You worked well on them, Lee. They’re so hot and I want you to convert all my jeans and pants from now on. Make them all EBFs. But you know what? I’m so horny now, I don’t think these buttons are going to hold. What do you think?” Lee didn’t know what to say. He was in awe of the muscle-god. It sounded like Umberto was planning that their ‘relationship’ be a long term thing. He liked the sound of that. “You can blow your load, now, honey. Umberto is pleased with the attention you’ve given him. Now to give you something back as a reward. But first get out of that uniform and your boxers. I wanna see all of you.” Lee went quiet again, eager to please the giant wall of mega-muscle before him. He hurried himself to complete nakedness and stood before Umberto, skinny, lanky, and naked as the day he was born. His erection was at full mast and it shot straight up level with his abs and well past his belly button. Umberto loved how hung he was for such a skinny guy. “Wow, that’s a gorgeous cock you have. Who’d have thought your button-fly could keep all that in without bursting apart?” Umberto’s words were too much. Lee moaned and his entire body shook as his balls began to throb for release of his spunk. It was Umberto’s cue to reach forward and effortlessly lift Lee upwards, drawing his quivering dick up to his manly, too-sexy lips. Just as Lee screamed in release of his salty créme, Umberto took hold of his cock and sucked it all the way into his mouth. Lee’s body tensed like iron in his grip as his spunk gushed down Umberto’s throat. The bodybuilder drank deeply, pleased – and a little surprised – that such a skinny guy could produce so much seed. Five shots of come, or maybe six, gushed down Umberto’s throat and he took Lee to the very last drop. Lee’s scream quietened and his body went limp in Umberto’s hold. The giant bodybuilder had been satiated, for now. He pulled Lee close to him, this time tenderly, and allowed the little guy to bury his face in his huge and beautiful pectorals. Lee nuzzled each pec with equal tenderness. Then he started sobbing unexpectedly. “That was… amazing… ohmygosh!” was all he could say. Umberto hugged him a little longer, before setting him down. There was a bench in the changing room where the male staff could sit down to take their work shoes on and off. He sat there, naked and quivering with a mixture of elation and nervous anxiety. Spent of his seed, his body needed time to adjust to normality again. Maybe it never would. He looked up at the massive muscle-god. “But what about you? Aren’t you gonna come as well?” An innocently put question that made Lee look even cuter. “Well I don’t want to ruin these beautiful improved cut-offs that now exist thanks to you,” Umberto explained. He added: “Besides, I shot a massive fucking load in the gym before I left it. Drenched four bodybuilders in the shower who then started having an orgy to get as much of my come into their mouths. It was quite a sight to behold. I didn’t even bother to shower. Just came over here to get some grub. Which reminds me, I’m fucking starving after my workout.” “So then, this is it? I don’t get to taste your muscle spunk? Can we do this again?” Lee was suddenly greatly concerned that Umberto had been fucking with him from the beginning just to get a mouthful of twink jizz. But Umberto smiled at him, warmly, his cocky demeanour now taking a back seat to something between friendliness and wanting something more. He lifted Lee onto the bench so that their eye levels were now the same. He raised a big callused mitt up to gently pinch Lee on the cheek. Of course, this caused his biceps and forearm muscles to collide, forcing more and more veins to freakishly bloat and swell with power. “Don’t worry, sexy Lee… MY sexy Lee. Had I known I’d meet someone like you at the most unexpected moment, I’d never have shot my litre-sized load back over in the gym. I was super horny after one of the best workouts of my life. Sometimes any horniness remaining manifests as playful arrogance, if that’s even a thing. I’m a little spent now, and I’ve had my fun for the time being. But I gotta pay the bills, so I have to get something to eat and then get to work. I just moved into the big warehouse apartment on Bridge Street and I gotta work to keep a roof over my head, and, of course, to pay for all the food and supplements I need to grow so fucking huge!” A tinge of the arrogant self-indulgent Umberto returned to finish his last sentence. Lee’s eyes grew wide with surprise. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did you say Bridge Street? Why… I live right across the street from that apartment. How come I never saw you before today? You’re impossible to miss.” Lee couldn’t believe that the man of his dreams was very much a reality, and lived just a few metres from his own flat. “Just moved in yesterday. I didn’t unpack. Just hit the weights hard. I’ll have a full gym set up in the place eventually. But for now Gridiron will suffice. It’s for the genetically gifted hyper-muscled bodybuilders who want to grow even bigger. My kinda place. But I really can’t wait to get to know you better. Hey I never even got your surname, did I?” Umberto’s lust had levelled out. He behaved quite gentlemanly now, but he was the type that could explode into a massive most muscular at any moment and anger up the testosterone in his balls again, setting it off like a nest of disturbed hornets. “It’s Fordham. Lee Fordham,” Lee replied. “Nice to meet you, Lee Fordham. Umberto Morelli really likes what he sees. And Umberto Morelli really wants to get to know you better. Are you free tomorrow evening for dinner? I know this great Italian pizza place on Timpani Street. I have an account there. But it’s quite a formal dress code, too. Do you own a dress shirt and bow tie? I’m really into bow ties.” Umberto lifted Lee down from the bench and bent down to pick up his clothes for him. In fairness Lee could have done with a shower before going back to work, but he had a feeling Eugene would go easy on him. Besides, it had to be near the end of his shift, now that a sense of the normal passage of time had returned to Lee. “I also love bow ties. I’ve got a drawer full of them,” Lee beamed. He couldn’t believe it… Umberto was asking him out on a date. A proper date. He’d never been on one of those before, usually scoring with guys at gay bars or occasional internet hookups. “Great. Meet me outside my apartment at 8pm. Hopefully the sun will still be out and we can casually stroll hand in hand to the restaurant, dressed in our finest and turning the heads of everyone we pass. But we won’t give a shit. Fuck them. I’ve got too much muscle to care.” And to illustrate unabashedly, the bodybuilder brought his arms up and popped out a huge double biceps. His muscle peaks blasted upward like new mountains being birthed from the earth. Lightning flashes of veins cracked across every surface. Lee gasped yet again. And then Umberto was gone, squeezing through the enlarged doorway he had made for himself. Wearing only his denim cut-offs with the buttons shining and fully exposed, he left via the delivery entrance, deciding not to cause too much of a commotion given that he was completely shirtless. He could have used a shower. Plaster dust and splinters of wood still clung to some of the more moisturised parts of his muscles. Fuck it, he’d still turn heads wherever he went. He was a muscle-god and so to him normal rules no longer applied. Later on, Lee was at his locker, having had a shower after such a spectacular afternoon. Eugene was upset over the damage Umberto had made to the changing room door, but Lee said all the wanking he’d be doing to the recordings of Umberto being cocky and self-obsessed with his displays of unabashed and jaw-dropping muscularity and strength, would more than make up for the damage. Eugene was okay with it. He looked forward to reviewing those recordings at home on his computer later that evening. Of course first he would have to get in a handyman to repair damage to the changing room. Sam’s shift ended when Lee’s did. Their lockers were side by side. Sam made casual chat with Lee as they changed clothes, mostly about the damage the hulking bodybuilder had caused to the door. Then, more confidently, Sam asked Lee out for a drink, but Lee declined, much to Sam’s dismay. That was the first time the newbie had asked him out for a drink, and it further cemented in his mind that Sam might indeed be gay, given that he’d opted for the exposed button-fly version of the mens work pants, rather than the concealed fly. Feeling somewhat emboldened, Lee decided to raise the issue of Sam’s choice of work pants. “So you went for the sexier choice of work pants, just like the boss and me. I hope you’re not attempting to suck up to Eugene,” Lee joked as he slipped into a tee-shirt and running shorts. His uniform would need washing. It reeked of precum and sweat, otherwise he would have worn it home. The tee-shirt and shorts in his locker were just for emergencies. “Yeah, they’re pretty cool. I like how they look on me. A break from the norm eh?” Sam, despite being a bit chubby, was still quite good looking. Lee had hooked up with confident chubby guys before and they were pretty good in the sack, although Lee’s number one choice of guy would always be a bodybuilder. And Umberto has certainly raised the bar in that respect, only his bar was supporting a massive 1000 pounds for 12 reps at a time. Sam was the type that stripped both top and bottoms off at the same time, unashamed to be seen only in his tiny, sexy undies as he rummaged in his locker for his day clothes. He dropped his deodorant on the floor and gleefully bent down to retrieve it, careful to make sure that the luminous pink thong he wore was in full view of Lee. It divided his portly bubble butt nicely, the thin thong strap at the rear easily swallowed up by his cavernous crack. Being a bit on the short side, he made up for it in other ways. Lee felt his dick quivering excitedly in his shorts. But if Sam had anything planned from flirting with Lee, then it wasn’t happening in a locker room that reeked of bodybuilder muscle stink. Sam slipped into a pair of black Levis jeans cut short to his knees. His thighs were chunky and his hips a little too wide, but the jeans looked great on him. Especially the exposed button-fly front he’d created for himself with a pair of scissors. Lee almost shrieked with delight. Another recruit to club EBF, it seemed. Then Sam, growing bolder by the minute, pulled a stretchy ribbed sky blue tee-shirt out of his bag, only he’d snipped a good four inches off the bottom. It hung from his doughy chest as a crop top, stopping just above a navel encircled with fine blonde hair that darkened slightly to the beginning of a hot pubic line above the waistband of his jeans. Lee’s dick grew instantly hard. He liked crop tops, too, and resolved to start wearing them himself, provided the weather stayed warm and sunny. Lee found himself liking Sam more and more with each passing moment. That was when Sam leaned forward, having to stand on his tiptoes to reach Lee’s luscious lips. What had been a spontaneous superficial friend-to-friend peck on the lips soon saw the guys thrusting their tongues into each other’s mouths, tasting and probing for all they were worth. “Fuck going for a drink,” Lee gasped, much surprised by this sudden turn of events. He added: “You’re coming home with me.” And with a playful pat on his arse, Lee left Aldersons with Sam Wickham, not knowing where the evening would take them. PART 2 “You’re flat’s nice,” Sam said to Lee when they arrived at Lee’s place. It was just a two-roomer, with the bed, living and dining area all combined. A door led through to a bathroom barely big enough to shower, shave and take a leak in. That was it. Lee lived quite frugally and didn’t have a lot of clutter. But he had a big wardrobe full of clothes, and a chest of drawers for undies and socks and so forth. “It’s not much, but all I can afford on Aldersons wages,” he replied, almost bashfully. He liked how Sam had suddenly come out of his shell, but having had his load shot into the throat of the biggest bodybuilder he’d ever seen, Lee was feeling a little depleted. He also liked, however, that Sam had made such a spontaneous pass at him back in the changing room, although he couldn’t get Umberto out of his thoughts. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I live with my granny. She’s always drunk and breaking stuff, so I pretty much just stay in my room playing video games and leave her to her own business,” Sam said, inviting himself to sit down on Lee’s capacious queen-sized bed. “Mmmm… comfy. I wonder what fun we could have in this bed,” said Sam, forwardly. He made himself more comfortable by removing his crop top and unbuttoning the top button of his EBF denims. He rested his back against a pillow and placed one forearm behind his head. With his other hand he started to rub his crotch. Gaps appeared between his exposed button-fly as his dick thickened with chubbiness. Lee watched, interested, but wishing Sam had muscles as big as Umberto. But Sam was truly beautiful even though he was a bit on the overweight side. He wasn’t shy about being overweight, and loved to show off his puffy nipples that pushed out from light brown areolas. Lee wasn’t sure why he did what he did next, but reason and logic had decided to take the day off ever since Umberto came into their lives. “Here, sniff this. Breathe in his smell real deep, and tell me I wasn’t and still aren’t having some amazing dream,” said Lee. He didn’t remember putting it in the pocket of his shorts before leaving work earlier, but there it was: the panel of denim he’d removed from Umberto’s shorts, one of two souvenirs he would hopefully never part with. He tossed it towards Sam and it landed on his doughy gut near to his gorgeous treasure trail of darker pubes. “Oh I see what this is. I bet it smells amazing,” said Sam passing the denim strip across his nostrils like the way toffee-nosed types sniff a fine and expensive cigar. He drew in deeply, allowing the microscopic particles of Umberto’s bodybuilder muscle-stink to intoxicate his senses. His crotch swelled further and more visibly. Lee’s shorts began to tent outwards at the front. “Yum… I could sniff this all day. What exactly happened with you and the giant god of muscle-manliness earlier in Eugene’s office?” “He posed a lot, flexing his muscles and being a total alpha show-off. It was hard getting his shorts down past his massive thighs. And his dick was fucking huge. I think he was growing as he got more and more turned on. I eventually couldn’t keep my load in and when I shot it off he lifted me up in time to swallow the lot,” Lee explained. He reached into his bag for the tattered remains of the other souvenir, Umberto’s shirt that was barely a shirt when worn by a mountainous god. The flat soon reeked of come and sweat far stronger than the most hardcore bodybuilding gyms. Lee continued his account of earlier, and both guys grew more and more aroused: “He was too big to get through the changing room door because he wanted to see how the shorts looked on him, and you know the changing room has a full-length mirror. And you saw what he did to the door.” The tattered shirt was stinking so much now. It was strange, like it was getting stinkier and more arousingly pungent, although that was impossible, was it not? “Yeah he can’t be of this world, Lee. He simply can't be. Do you like how swollen my nipples look when I’m turned on?” There was no denying that Sam Wickham was looking more and more hot and pleasing to the eye with each passing minute. What the hell was going on? Had they somehow crossed over to a parallel universe, where massive bodybuilders that defied all physical laws lived and breathed and reigned superior over the mundane masses? “Your nips are amazing,” said Lee. He wanted to fuck Sam, now, but wasn’t sure if he was a top of a bottom. His arse was big and bubbly, if a bit flabby, but it would easily take all ten inches of Lee’s big, hungry cock. But before he could advance on the short, blonde stud, Sam was off the bed and across the room so as to grab Umberto’s shirty remains off Lee. “I wanna be your randy little Incredible Hulk,” Sam growled, and dressed up in the shredded shirt as best as its tattered flaps of cotton would allow. He looked stupid with it on, but neither of them cared. Lee formed an anxious look on his face as it suddenly occurred to him that Sam’s body odour might interfere with Umberto’s muscle-stink, and somehow change it. But what if it made the smell even better? “Mmmm the smell is amazing. I’d love to be a big bodybuilder and do insane things to you,” teased Sam, rubbing Umberto’s muscle stink into his soft skin. His nipples bulged more hugely, now, looking more like the fertile, nourishing nubs of a woman than of a hot young bloke. “We shouldn’t do this, Sam. I feel like we’re meddling in affairs we shouldn’t be,” Lee chewed his bottom lip to stop it from quivering. His ten incher was now at full mast, pushing out his shorts further and further. Umberto’s smell was almost choking their olfactory senses, but the pleasure of it was indescribable. “Oh man… bodybuilding… bodybuilding… body-fucking-building. I want it so much,” said Sam making muscle poses and growling like an adolescent in heat. Lee lost control and pushed Sam across the room. The intoxicated duo landed on the bed, with Lee and all of his six feet of lanky leanness lying on top of Sam. Lee kissed him forcibly, now also making angry noises as his horniness intensified. They rolled around on the bed, interchanging positions and getting more of the shirt stink on the duvet. The smell seemed to get stronger and stronger. Lee pinned down Sam’s hands and the blonde made no attempt to break free. His mouth and tongue hungrily explored Sam’s face and neck, before working down to his less manly-looking chest with its disproportionately large and suckable buds, which Lee tasted and found delicious. He released one of Sam’s hands so he could fondle his stomach, tracing down through his treasure trail to pop the buttons of his cut-offs and release Sam’s rod. Sam’s pudgy dick was already too extended and swollen for his skimpy thong to contain and it popped out and thickened with mass and throbbing veins. “I’m a grower, a fucking huge grower,” Sam gasped as Lee dropped to his knees so he could suck the precum off Sam’s beautiful cock. It was about seven inches hard, but it was also very thick, and it filled Lee’s mouth sufficiently. Lee sucked him off to a point where it seemed Sam would come in his mouth, but he had to taste more and more of him, especially his wonderfully fat, round balls that were already charging with lusty juices. “I want you so naked,” Lee snarled, pulling the tattered plaid shirt away from the short blonde stud. It was warm in the flat now, and the guys glistened with sweat from the effort of being so suddenly turned on by one another. Sam found the strength to flip away from the bed, simultaneously grabbing Lee and flinging him onto the bed. Now out of his clothes Lee’s super leanness seemed to compliment the chunkier Sam. “Wow, your cock is huge. It must be nine inches,” Sam marvelled. “It’s ten,” Lee gasped and his big dick twitched and pulsed with the energy of sexually-charged youth. “I’d love it to be over a foot long, though,” he added. “I want to be enormous all over,” Sam said, before taking all of Lee’s ten inches into his mouth until he almost gagged. He’d obviously done this thing before, and he deftly pleasured Lee’s big dick over and over. They now reeked of bodybuilder muscle-musk. It was heavenly. “Imagine my big nipples on bodybuilder pectorals,” Sam managed to murmur in between sucks. “Huge… get fucking huge, Sam. Make Umberto look small,” Lee pleaded as his lust rose to critical levels. They changed positions once more, with Sam lying with his back on the stinky bed. He arched his pelvis upward, and Lee caught his legs by the ankles and pushed, bringing Sam’s legs up and over and revealing his plump anus invitingly. “Put it in me,” Sam growled, and Lee was only too pleased to oblige. An arse as well-formed and capacious as Sam’s was simply made for a big dick. Lee wondered how many dicks had been caressed by that tight hole. Lee entered Sam, slowly at first, but then momentum increased and Lee was soon pounding Sam somewhat aggressively, not that Sam minded in the slightest. They fucked for what seemed like ages, Lee taking Sam repeatedly up his hole, and in other positions, too. Then they changed roles and Lee got to feel Sam’s chubby mass of manhood inside his modest anus. Both guys tasted each other’s jizz and they drank each other dry, with Sam’s larger balls producing way much more spurting spunk than Lee was capable of producing so soon after feeding it to Umberto Morelli. After several screaming orgasms, the boys collapsed on the big reeking bed, to reflect on the day that had been. Outside the sun began to set. “Fancy some takeout?” Lee suggested. Both lads had forgotten they had appetites, with food taking a back seat to other fancies. “Yeah, Pizza would be great. But we should take a shower first,” said Sam. “Nah, I don’t want us to lose Umberto’s stink. I forgot to tell you he just moved in across the street, into the warehouse apartment. He obviously needs a lot of space to live in. He’d never fit inside this place,” said Lee. “Wow, lucky you, living so close to him. Maybe he’ll let you play with his muscles once in a while,” Sam suggested. “That would be amazing. He really had an effect on me today. And then what we just did… I really wasn’t expecting that. Have you been with many guys, Sam?” “Um… just a few. I only came out a few months ago. My friends know. My granny doesn’t. My parents are divorced. Mum lives in Scotland, and Dad travels a lot for work. We mostly facetime. I don’t have any siblings. What about you?” Sam snuggled into sweaty Lee, liking how his skinny body looked so anatomical due to his lack of body fat. It contrasted his own doughiness quite nicely. “I moved here to be independent and gay. There’s not much to tell. Just boring stuff. But I like my life and I’m obsessed with exposed button-fly pants and jeans, and also, of course… massive bodybuilders.” Lee reached for his phone and to an app that would order them a big pizza and some fries they could share. While they waited, they cuddled and chatted further. “Yeah I only ever wear exposed button pants. And I love crop-tops, as you’ve already seen. I wished we lived back in the early seventies, when every second guy you’d pass on the street would be wearing EBFs,” Sam’s gaze seemed to look into the aether, as if drawn to a memory of years before they were born. “You know your stuff. It’s great having someone to share a rare fetish with, other than Eugene. I’ll make some crop-tops out of a few old shirts tomorrow. Maybe we could go clubbing in them,” Lee enthused. Just for fun Lee got up off the bed and dressed in Sam’s clothes. The crop-top was obviously swimming on him, and the jeans which Sam had cut to just above his knees ended halfway down his slender thighs. He buttoned up all of the buttons only to discover how loose the waistband was. “Heh, look at how loose they are around my waist, Sam. What waist size are you?” “Thirty-four. I know, I could lose a few pounds, or at least trim off some of the fat,” Sam patted his slight paunch proudly, causing his love handles to jiggle. “Haha, my bony waist is only twenty-eight. But watch this.” Lee turned to the side and put his arms behind his head. He took a few breaths and then sucked in his stomach as deeply as he could. “Holy shit,” said Sam, his eyes almost coming out on stalks. Lee’s stomach vacuum made his torso diminish in girth as though only a couple of inches existed between his spine and belly-button. “Just one of my party tricks. Maybe I’ll show you others,” Lee winked. Then he added: “Hey, let's have some fun when the pizza delivery guy arrives. I usually order from the same place. I got us a meat supreme. Rex is the delivery guy and he’s a hottie. Is it okay to remove the waistband from your EBFs? I promise it’ll make them look even sexier on you. More of that hot treasure trail on show, and you’ll still have the other four buttons down the front to show off.” Sam thought about it. “Yeah, go ahead. We can be all slutty with Rex when he arrives. Maybe he’ll want to hang out with us for a bit,” Sam winked mischievously. Lee went to work on the denims. It only took a minute to cut around the circumference of the jeans with his trusty scissors. “Here, try them on for me now,” Lee playfully ordered. Sam was only too keen to oblige. Lee opened his wardrobe inside of which was a full-length mirror attached to the door. “Wow, they look great. And my nipples are fully erect, too,” said Sam cheerily. Lee then rummaged around in his wardrobe and found a trashed pair of EBF cut-offs that were almost completely backless, save for a thong-strip seam at the back that was easily guzzled up by his crack. “Are these slutty enough, ya think?” said Lee with an impish wink. “So hot. I wonder if Rex will get all horned up by Umberto’s muscle-stink when he arrives and it hits him in the face?” The boys had gotten used to the smell, but it was still very present in the flat. It wasn’t too long before the doorbell sounded. “Pizza!” “Great, I’m famished,” said Sam, but Lee made a face. “Strange, that doesn’t sound like Rex. It’s a deeper voice,” said Lee. He looked through the peephole in the door. “Holy shit, wait until you see the size of this guy,” he whispered back to Sam who was admiring himself in front of the mirror. He really liked the no-waistband look. Lee excitedly opened the door, wearing only the slutty EBF thong that had originally been a full pair of jeans. The delivery guy was a hunk, and very well built, but nowhere near to matching Umberto for size and sheer muscle mass. The bodybuilder was bald, with slate grey eyes, handsome face finished by a trim black goatee. Lee thought he might have seen him in Aldersons once, which suggested he might lift at Gridiron. “That’ll be eighteen seventy, buddy,” he said handing over the food and Lee’s cock began to twitch as the bodybuilder’s eyes were drawn downward to what Lee was barely wearing. “Um, let me get my wallet. My shorts are so small they don’t have any pockets,” Lee teased, cursorily shooting a sly wink back at Sam. “I can see that,” the bodybuilding hunk replied, and then, somewhat boldly: “What’s the story with those anyway? Ever hear of zippers?” “Um, exposed button-fly is all the rage these days,” Lee lied, “and getting quite popular with bodybuilders, too. What do you think of them?” The bodybuilder just snorted something incomprehensible, although he had invited himself into the flat and nodded politely to Sam. “You’re a big fella, have you ever competed?” Sam asked. “Did a contest a while back. I placed seventh. I’m trying to bulk up to get heavy enough to train at Gridiron,” said the bodybuilder. He then glanced at his watch somewhat impatiently. “Ah right. We work at Aldersons supermarket right across the street from that gym. I thought I’d seen you in our store once before, and so reckoned you were already a member. We get a lot of bodybuilders in the store because we sell a lot of supplements and clothing for bodybuilders,” Lee went on. “I’ve been there once or twice. Strange dress code on the pants of the male staff,” said the bodybuilder. “Have you ever heard of Umberto Morelli? He came into the store today. He’s gigantic,” Lee just had to ask. “Yeah, I know of him. He’s freaky huge alright. I’d kill to be that size. Say, it smells like a gym in here. You guys been working out?” The bodybuilder warmed to them, slightly. “Well we were doing a workout, of sorts… on one another,” Sam teased, and groped a handful of his button-fly crotch. “So you two are gay? Easy to tell from your slutty gay shorts,” the bodybuilder laughed. “Here’s the money for the food. You’re welcome to stay and have some with us,” said Lee innocently enough. The bodybuilder considered the offer. “Well I was doing a favour for my brother. He owns the pizza parlour. Three of his delivery guys are off sick. Some bug going around. I haven’t eaten since my last protein shake. Fuck it, my brother’s a cunt anyway.” The bodybuilder made himself comfortable over in the dining corner of the flat. Lee only had two chairs and a formica table from which to eat. He hoped the chair wasn’t too uncomfortable for the muscle-man. “I’m Lee and this is Sam,” said Lee, happy to have another unplanned houseguest. “I’m John,” said the bodybuilder. He took off his jacket to reveal a tight red polo shirt painted over delicious muscles. At a glance Lee took him to be around two hundred and fifty pounds. He had bulging pecs and biceps and was definitely in his bulking phase as there weren’t too many veins-a-popping. “Nice to meet you John,” said Sam, lusting for the hunk. Lee got some plates for the pizza and fries. He indicated that Sam would take the other chair. Lee was content to stand. And so the impromptu threesome began to chow down. It so happened that Lee, never one for having a big appetite, managed just one slice of pizza and some fries. Sam managed three slices, whilst John finished off the rest of the food with gusto. He let out a long, loud belch of satisfaction and then patted his cobblestone belly. “This will count as my cheat meal for the week,” he decided. What he said next startled Sam who at this point had put his crop-top back on. Lee was content to stay shirtless in his trashy EBF thong shorts. John didn’t seem to mind. “You’ve got a decent bit of muscle on you, Sam. It looks good. How much do you bench? Those tits didn’t come from nowhere.” It was then Sam realised that somehow his body had changed. But how was that possible? “Um… huh?” Sam couldn’t respond properly at first. But Lee responded on his behalf. “Fuck, Sam… you… you’ve grown some muscle. Buh-but how?” Sure enough, beneath the crop top the beginning of abs and cum-gutters could now be seen. His waist seemed definitely trimmer. A couple of veins snaked around his forearms and small balls formed – where before his biceps were under a blanket of dough – as he bent and moved his arms. His crop-top tented out a little, caused by a chest that was definitely firmer and projected outward more than before. His jeans felt looser, and the cut-off ends were no longer just above his knees, rather an inch or so higher up his thighs than before. John seemed intrigued by Sam’s and Lee’s reactions. “Maybe it’s the smell… from the shirt. I wore the shirt. We rolled around on the bed in its muscle-musk. Could that be the reason this happened?” Sam removed his crop-top and went over to the mirror. He checked himself out in detail and couldn’t believe his eyes. His BMI had significantly lowered. He still had some fat, but not as much as before. He bounced his new pecs and squealed in delight. “But I got covered in that musk as well, so how come I’m as skinny as ever?” Lee seemed disappointed. Sure, he loved being a skinny twink with a big cock, and he’d failed to make bodybuilding a lifestyle in the past, but he wouldn’t have turned his nose up at some spontaneous “muscle-growth-without-effort”. What had happened to Sam was nothing short of a miracle. Wait, something felt different. Pressure had formed inside Lee’s slut-jeans-thong, of a kind he’d never felt so strongly before. The front of the shorts bulged obscenely, gaps appearing between the button-fly and tufts of pubic hair poking through. He ran half-panicking, half-excitedly to the bathroom and slammed the door. Sam looked at John and neither spoke. After a few seconds of silence: “FUCK!!!!” “What is it, Lee? Are you okay?” Sam checked out his lats in the mirror. They were small, but definitely there. He groped and twisted his body into all sorts of poses, trying to make his new muscles pop. Lee came back out into the living area, this time he was completely nude. His boner was at full mast, and… what a boner it was. It had to be at least a foot long. It seemed a little thicker to Sam than when he had it down his throat and up his arse earlier. “Um…er… Sam… go to the knife drawer and take out my ruler. I need to confirm this,” said Lee, excitedly, shaking a long, slender finger in the direction of the knife drawer by the sink. Even John the bodybuilder seemed impressed by the size of the twink’s schlong. The gym he currently attended had some gay exhibitionists in it, and they’d often get so horny after workouts, they’d be showing off their jewels in the shower and locker room as much as their muscle gains. He was used to that sort of thing. Sam rummaged for the ruler and gave it to Lee. Being so lean there were no mammoth pectorals obscuring his gaze as he looked down at the massive penis attached to so much trimness. He set the ruler along one side of his dick and was dumbstruck that it was shorter than the rigid shaft by at least three quarters of an inch. The dick had gained almost three inches in length. He gripped it in his hand and knew straight away that it had also thickened. Where he’d had a considerably above-average cock earlier, he now boasted a monster dick that would make a lot of porn stars sick with envy. “I’m fuckin’ huge,” he almost screamed. “Whatever you guys are on, I need the number of your supplier,” said John, completely into what was going on in the flat. What had started out as a shitty evening for him, had definitely become something that more than piqued his interest. He hadn’t been completely honest with Lee and Sam. Yes, his brother was down three delivery guys that evening, but John was working for him to help pay off a loan he owed him. John had fallen on hard times in his journey to become a huge bodybuilder, bigger than Umberto Morelli, having spent that loan on as many “get big as quickly as possible” methods in order to fuel and expedite his chosen lifestyle. He was unquestionably a bodybuilder to look at, but he seldom showed off his muscles because his chest, shoulders and back were covered in acne from the steroids. He also found it hard to get an erection, so any HGH and testosterone shots he could get via the black market was why he owed his brother close to ten grand. These two supermarket clerks seemed to have stumbled upon a muscle and cock growth miracle. And he wanted in. “We’re not entirely sure how this happened, John,” said Sam, now also nude in order to see if he’d had any growth elsewhere. Sure enough: “My dick’s bigger, too. I used to be seven inches hard, but I think I gained at least another inch.” The ruler confirmed he was now exactly eight inches with a rock-hard boner. His balls felt heavier, too. “Could it have anything to do with the muscle-cum-stink in here? I’ve delivered pizza to hundreds of addresses. I’ve delivered to other bodybuilders wanting their cheat meals after heavy workout sessions, and they answer the door wearing very little cuz they just had sex with their girlfriends or whatever, and never once have I smelt a scent like this, not even from other bodybuilders. So I’ll ask again… what shit are you two on?” Lee and Sam didn’t take kindly to John’s sudden change of mood (most likely a result of too much juicing). “We’re not on anything. Honest.” Lee was nervous now, as was Sam. John was a lot bigger and stronger than they were, and he was becoming aggressive. “I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” John snarled. And to emphasise his rising impatience, he picked up one of the kitchen chairs like it weighed nothing, and threw it across the room. It missed Sam by inches, and smashed into many pieces when it struck the wall over the headboard of Lee’s bed. Both Sam and Lee cringed in fright, losing their boners and fearing for their safety. Would they have time to make it to the fire escape? They’d never get past John to get to the front door. He had them trapped. John made a lunge for Lee, but he managed to jump onto the bed and then off again to get close to Sam near the wardrobe. The boys now held onto each other for dear life. John’s forward momentum caused him to land face down on the bed. He rolled sideways and landed on the floor with a loud grunt and heavy thud. He was momentarily dazed, giving the boys a chance to make it to the fire escape. Lee opened the window and clambered out first, intending to lend assistance to the bulkier, shorter Sam in case he had trouble getting out through the window. They hoped John was too bulky to pursue. But he didn’t follow them. What was going on? Had he cracked his head open when he rolled on to the floor? “Fuck, this is shit. We should never have ordered pizza,” said Lee as they cowered outside on the fire escape. Thank heavens it wasn’t winter time or they’d be freezing right now. Still, they trembled in fear, not knowing what would happen next. Then, after the longest, quietest minute in their lives: “Thanks guys. I think I found what I'm looking for. See ya around,” said John, his short-lived tantrum abated. They heard the front door slam. But they stayed out on the fire escape a little longer. They said nothing for about a minute. Sam bravely stuck his head through the window to make sure John had left. “He’s gone, I’m sure of it. We can go back inside now.” The boys got back inside and didn’t say much, as they were still a little shocked by how such an amazing day had been soiled by John’s behaviour. Sam set about clearing bits of broken chair off the bed. Finally, in order to break the awkward silence: “My granny has fold-up lawn chairs in her garage. I’ll bring one over tomorrow to replace this.” “Thanks,” Lee croaked. He decided to help Sam clear up the broken chair. Afterward the boys held each other close in bed. They played with each other’s changed anatomies for a little while, but neither were in the mood to do much. “Do you notice something different about the flat?” Sam asked, as Lee caressed his beginner pecs with something short of lusty enthusiasm. His nipples sat firmly on each delicious mound, bigger and more succulent than before. “Yeah, Umberto’s muscle-stink… can’t smell it so much any more. We were covered in the musk when we had all that sex earlier.” Lee pulled some duvet up to his nose and inhaled deeply. The smell was still there, but weakened compared to earlier. “That’s what must have made us grow. You wanted a bigger dick, and I wanted to be a huge bodybuilder. Our lust must have made our wishes come true, fuelled entirely by the shirt of a giant bodybuilder.” The boys looked at one another, their eyes blazing wide. “THE SHIRT!!!” They both cried in unison. They leapt out of bed and started a frantic search for the shirt. They couldn’t find it anywhere. “John must have found the shirt when he fell off the bed, and realised it has special properties. That’s what he meant when he said he’d found what he was looking for.” Sam’s “Eureka” moment was soon dragged down by a sinister undertow. “Well I had the shirt on, and much of my fat melted away to be replaced by at least ten to fifteen pounds of muscle. Do you have a scale here? I’d like to weigh myself,” Sam asked. “In the bathroom beside the toilet. I never use it. Don’t need to. It was here when I moved in,” Lee explained. Sam went to the bathroom, leaving the door open as he stepped on the scale. “One fifty three, down from one sixty eight last time I weighed myself. I definitely lost weight since this morning, but I’ve gained muscle. That’s impossible to achieve naturally in such a short span of time.” “As is me adding almost three inches to my erect penis. And if the shirt gave you muscles, and then I got a bigger dick from fucking you, maybe there is something of a chemical nature to the muscle-stink from the shirt, that could cause John to also transform himself.” Lee grew worried. Neither of them wanted a cunt like John to get any bigger by interacting with the shirt. “We need to get the shirt back, Lee,” said Sam. He had hoped he’d get to wear the shirt again – or at least sniff it – and grow his muscles even bigger. “I have an idea. But we’ll need help to ensure it goes smoothly.” Lee gave Sam an encouraging peck on the lips. The boys got dressed. It was approaching eleven o’ clock at night. Lee took Sam outside and gazed across an almost deserted Bridge Street road and to the warehouse apartment on the other side. With the upper front facing mostly glass, the apartment would get a lot of light during the day. And the boys were in luck. There were lights on inside, which meant one thing: “Umberto’s home,” said Lee with a reassuring smile. PART 3 Umberto scarcely had time to unpack, as he’d only just moved into his apartment the previous day. The former warehouse had been converted into a capacious dwelling, with plenty of living space, as well as storage space in the loft, and an open plan layout which meant his living space and personal gym would pretty much meld into one. Should he require help if he needed it, a few pec bounces, lat spreads, and double bis would easily have the local young men running towards him, heavy with lust for the massive muscle god. He loved bodybuilding. He loved living the life of a bodybuilding muscle-god. He loved to show off his muscles, and in turn have his muscles worshipped by as many guys as he could interact with and still do all the other things you needed to do just to get from one day to the next. Keith Doppler, who’d been buying groceries in Aldersons earlier that day, had decided to follow Umberto to see where he lived. From the second he laid eyes on the man-mountain, he was obsessed with him. He struggled to come to terms with his sexuality, even trying to live a bisexual lifestyle, so at least he could be into chicks as well as guys. But seeing Umberto Morelli for the first time, tipped the balance of his sexual preferences well and truly over the pink fence and into “Gayville” as a permanent resident. He behaved like a muscle-jock, even though he’d not played sports or worked out as much as he should have in several years. He still had more muscle than the average bloke, but he’d built a good bit of fat on top of the muscle. However, he still carried himself like an alpha jock if only to bolster his confidence and mask his insecurities. Umberto couldn’t have muscle-strutted into Aldersons at a more perfect moment. Seeing him altered something in Keith’s brain. He no longer wanted to be one who should be looked up to and envied for his physical prowess on and off the rugby field. He wanted Umberto all to himself, to serve him and worship him as a god. Umberto had walked the short distance home from Aldersons, basking in smug delight as he got so many stares from passers-by. His only clothing were, of course, his EBF denim cut-offs. He was huge, bigger than any bodybuilder the local townsfolk had ever seen in their lives. And he was only too willing to show off his gigantic muscles to the world. Being summer, it wasn’t quite dry enough for a hosepipe ban, and so Umberto beamed a conceited smile when he saw a hot teenager hosing down a Volkswagen Beetle in his driveway. The shirtless youth was dark-haired and really cute, if a little doughy around the middle. “Hey buddy, turn that hose my way. I need cooling off, and I’m dirty from my door-widening experience earlier,” he confidently hollered. The youth turned toward him and looked aghast with that “deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle” look that most people display when they see a massive bodybuilder. The youth’s shorts tented out instantly as his boner formed. But he was happy to oblige Umberto, and so turned the spray on the huge bodybuilder. “Heh heh, I can turn any guy gay just having them look at me,” he sniggered. He stood outside the youth’s driveway and did a full lat spread towards him. His muscle-bod heaved and hulked upwards and outwards and he pushed his pectorals up with such force, the bulbous, beefy shelves whacked off his chin. Thick striations – deep enough to lose half your fingers in – cracked across his chest. He sucked in his abdominals, making a deep and dark vacuum that made him look more enormous than ever. The cool water spray drenched his body, washing all of the dust off him. By now all of the lotion Lee had rubbed into him earlier had been completely absorbed, and so Umberto was pleased to be wet and glistening again. “That feels so good, kid,” said Umberto, doing a full turn so that he could flare out his back for the youth to faint at the sight of. Some distance away, Keith watched from behind a tree. He was in awe of Umberto. His boner throbbed uncomfortably in his boxers. “Bodybuilder, bodybuilding to be bodybuilt ‘cos he’s into bodybuilding his bodybuilder’s body,” Keith chanted as his lust intensified. Simply uttering the word “bodybuilding”, and its conjugations, was enough to get him turned on. He slipped one hand into his shorts, and tweaked one of his exposed nipples with the other. There weren’t many people around this time of the early evening, but he didn’t care. No one would even notice Keith and what he was doing with gigantic Umberto flexing magnificently just a few paces away. And so as Umberto enjoyed a free hose pipe shower, Keith continued to pleasure himself, his arousal intensifying with each incredible pose Umberto pulled his muscles into. That was when Keith lost his footing when one of his feet slipped off the pavement and onto the road. He lost his balance and fell flat, just as a stupid bitch texting on her phone – when she should have been watching her driving – bore down on Keith at speed and seemingly out of nowhere. Keith – suddenly realising what was happening – let out a scream that was a tad bit high-pitched for a buff dude in his mid-twenties and whose dad bod was gradually taking him over. Before dizzy-texting-bitch could slam on the brakes, the car came to a sudden stop, although the rear wheels were still turning at 45 miles per hour. Umberto, quick to react and save Keith’s life, held up the back of the car with one mighty arm. There was only a couple of inches between the front of the car and Keith’s head. It was all over in a flash, in which the driver of the car fainted with fright. Keith had also passed out, but not before seeing a huge, muscular shadow bear down upon him, after which there was just darkness and silence. When Keith came to he found himself indoors, lying on a couch which was surrounded by stacks of packing crates. He was surprised to find he was naked, although a thin sheet had been provided to him for the sake of modesty. The room reeked of the inside of a gym, only the musky odour was way more concentrated. He couldn’t help but inhale deeply. As he regained control of his senses, his surroundings came into sharper relief. Above him was an array of large windows and skylights arranged to let in lots of sunlight. He guessed it to be the apartment warehouse across the street from his flat complex. He wrapped the sheet around his waist as he gingerly got up off the couch. What was going on? Last thing he remembered he was starting to jerk off to the glorious sight of the most gorgeous and most muscular man he’d ever laid eyes on. The rest was a blur. Umberto walked up to him. He’d been in another room in his apartment. A friendly smile adorned his beautiful face, and his muscles rippled with every step he took toward Keith. He was out of his soaked EBFs now, and just wore red spandex knee-length shorts that laced up at the front. His junk was engorged hugely, making it impossible for him to lace them more than halfway up the crotch. His bulging thighs stretched the material to its limit, but it was his genitalia that almost burst it apart. “Welcome back to the waking world. Glad you don’t have a concussion. Well, you don’t seem to anyway,” said Umberto. In each hand he held a can of beer. He offered one to Keith, who took it appreciatively. “Whuh-what’s going on?” The sheet around Keith slipped away as his erection sprung from nowhere at the sight of the enormous bodybuilder. “You don’t remember what happened?” Umberto seemed somewhat surprised that Keith’s mind had blocked out the last hour. “I - I was falling… there was a car?” Keith shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned that he was naked in front of his saviour. “Good job I’m so fuckin’ strong, otherwise you’d be roadkill. I caught that car before it could run you over.” Umberto popped the tab of his beer and took a long swig. He popped up a bicep with the other and the mound of muscle bulged, huge and veined. “I guess I owe you my life. I don’t know how to thank you,” Keith said humbly. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t keep a tab on folks owing me shit. You’re just lucky I was nearby flexing my muscles and getting a free shower on this balmy evening.” Umberto crabbed into a most muscular pose and his body almost tore itself apart as he bulged with size and rock hard density. “This is the converted warehouse apartment on Bridge Street, yeah?” Umberto nodded, and then emptied his beer with another swig. “I live across the street, so I guess that’s lucky,” said Keith, grateful that he didn’t have far to get home, but he hoped he wouldn’t be leaving just yet. “Guess we’re neighbours then. I’m Umberto.” “Kuh-Keith,” said Keith, tentatively sipping his beer. “You have a nice body, Keith. You used to lift? I say ‘used’, ‘cos you look like you haven’t been hitting the weights lately. Once I’m all set up here I’ll have a gym you can use. I’ll leave out some little sissy weights for you. My weight, however… is stuff you could only dream of lifting.” Arrogance returning, Umberto flared into a lat spread that caused Keith’s cock to get even harder. “I played rugby back in college. I did a lot of weight-training but things haven’t been going too well for me lately. I work three jobs just to make the rent and pay off college loans from three years ago. I lost my job two weeks ago, so I’m sort of in the shits.” Keith almost shamefully bowed his head. He stared down at his erect six inches of aroused dick. “Hmm, it’s hard times we’re all living in. I do a lot of shit to make the rent and pay the bills. I’m supposed to be doing nude modelling this evening for a bunch of horny painters. I charge through the nose for my services. But fuck them, you need my intervention, Keith. Besides, I also do online muscle porn, but I charge a fucking fortune. If you set up my computer and cam for me, I’ll pump up with some free weights to get fucking huge for my audience. If you like you can oil me up and play with my muscles on cam. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.” Umberto moved closer to Keith and began to bounce his pecs. The globes of chest muscle were so huge and dense that flexing them actually caused a slight breeze to waft towards Keith’s face. “I… I’ve never been with a… man before,” Keith chewed his bottom lip, hoping it would stop quivering. “Heh heh, well I don’t really count, then. I’m not a man. I’m a god,” Umberto laughed and shot a double biceps pose that made Keith moan with lust and bring him to the verge of jizzing on the spot. A beeping sound from another room diverted both their attention. “Ah, your clothes should be dry now. You pissed yourself back when the car nearly hit you, so I took the liberty of washing your tank top and shorts. I admire a guy like you, who has a lifter's physique under a year or two of sedentary dough, but still manages to pull off a cut-off top and spandex shorts.” Umberto muscle-strutted off to fetch Keith his clothes. Keith just stood there, feeling like he was in the best dream of his life, but that he could wake up at any moment. Umberto came back less than two minutes later, and handed Keith his clothes. “Put them on, leave them off… I don’t mind either.” Then the god of utter and extreme muscular hypertrophy grinned impishly as an idea came to him. He’d thrown his wet EBFs into the dryer along with Keith’s clothes. They still stank of his muscle and testosterone musk, although some of it had passed into Keith’s clothes, hence diluting the stench somewhat. “Try on my sexy muscle slut shorts for size. They should be loose around your thighs and definitely you’ll have plenty of room in the crotch, but the waist might actually be a little tight on you, even though the waistband is missing. I’ve been customising the shit out of these. I wear them in the gym, out doing cardio shit, shopping etcetera. Kinda kinks me out to see them on other guys, no matter how bulked or average they are.” If Umberto had meant to offend Keith, then it was purely for sexy fun. Keith accepted the shorts from the bodybuilder as he felt his lust augmenting. He’d never been with a man before, much less play dressing up with a consenting other. But the shorts smelt nice, as nice as his own clothes the shorts had shared a dryer with. Keith wasn’t in any position to deny Umberto his fun, and so he stepped into the shorts and drew them up his legs and to his waist. They went up like a breeze and Keith was able to button up all but the top button. His abdominal lard wouldn’t allow a full buttoning, and it jiggled as he struggled to get the last one fastened. They were very loose around his thighs and in the crotch. Still though: “Not bad on you, Keith. Maybe the bodybuilding bug will bite you and you can grow and grow and grow. Maybe one day you could be as big as me,” Umberto boasted. He flared out his lats and rolled his deltoids forcing out more size and rock hard magnificence. “What’s with the buttons? You cut away the front panel that conceals them. Kinda interesting. Slutty, yes… very gay, though,” Keith said, regarding the button-fly in a “not sure if I like this” kind of way. “Actually, I didn’t do that part. That was Lee from the supermarket. We were in his manager’s office. I swallowed his cum as a thank you. Huge dick for a skinny bloke. He’s such boyfriend material though. Crazy huh?” Umberto played with his nipples, forcing them to swell to three times their size. “Lee Fordham? He’s my neighbour. I have the flat two floors above his,” said Keith, suddenly remembering that every time he saw his neighbour coming and going, Lee always wore exposed button-fly pants. Obviously Umberto had a kink for that as well. “Yeh, he’s such a hot young twink. I’m taking him out on a date tomorrow, just me and him.” Keith's heart sank. His skinny neighbour had all the luck. Then again, Keith was in Umberto’s apartment, so in that respect he’d gotten his foot in the door first. “Can I take these off now? I’d feel more comfortable in my own clothes when setting up your computer,” said Keith, hoping not to offend the gigantic muscle man. “Yeah, probably a good idea, Keith. Here, give them back to me so I can stink them up again during my workout before we make a porno together for my millions of online adoring fans,” Umberto said with a wink. Keith couldn’t believe his ears. Was Umberto’s intentions for Keith’s benefit? It seemed so. “I… I don’t know what to say. I’m not very experienced, um… what exactly will we be doing on cam?” “Anything you fucking like, sexy man,” beamed Umberto, before strutting over to his rack of weights to pump himself up. “GOTTA GET HUGE!!!!!” He roared, beating his pecs with his fists King Kong style. Keith almost blew a load there and then. “There’s a crate somewhere marked “Nerd Stuff”. Laptop and cam shit is in it.” Keith walked in amongst the crates. He eventually found the right crate on the other side of the spacious dwelling, on top of Umberto’s king size bed. Keith noticed cement blocks underneath the bed to reinforce it. The bodybuilder obviously intended to grow much bigger, so everything had to be reinforced. Over in the gym part of the apartment Umberto heaved and grunted as he got his pump on. There was a desk upon which to place the laptop. Also in the crate was a digicam with microphone and extendable tripod. But as Keith unpacked, he knocked the crate off the bed with the tripod and it tipped over, spewing packing foam nuggets across the floor. “Shit, could I be any clumsier today?” He bent down to pick up the nuggets. Something caught his eye. It was a small ziploc bag containing several greenish-white pills. His curiosity piqued, Keith opened the bag and immediately the strong smell of Umberto’s muscle-musk bodybuilder stink assaulted him. Thinking Umberto was onto him and came over to intervene, Keith looked over his shoulder and saw the giant over at his weights pumping up his muscles and encouraging himself with “Aww fuck yeah!s” in order to bolster more growth. “The smell is coming from the pills,” Keith said quietly. Never in his life had he come across pills that smelled so strongly of pure manliness to the level Umberto exuded. It occurred to him that maybe Umberto didn’t even know the pills had somehow gotten into the packing crate labelled “Nerd Stuff”. Unable to help himself, Keith sealed the bag and slipped it into his denim shorts. it was dishonest of him to do this, given that Umberto had saved his life earlier. But the compulsion was so strong. He put it down to the overwhelming effect being around Umberto was having on him. When the laptop and camera were set up, Keith gingerly approached Umberto to watch him lift and curl. He was curling 550 pounds with each dumbbell. He was glistening with sweat and there wasn’t a vein on his body that wasn’t popping to the point of rupturing. Keith’s eyes nearly came out on stalks. His chubby boner intensified and he felt his balls tingling as they swelled up. “These weights are getting so fucking light. I’m getting stronger by the day, it seems,” Umberto grunted, although realistically the grunting was just for show, as he could’ve lifted much heavier. But his new weights were on order and he’d have to wait a little longer. Lifting at Gridiron was also only for show. The heaviest weights and machine settings felt amateurish to him now. Still though, he did plenty of sets, and so this way maximised his workout as best he could. When he was done pumping his muscles, Umberto checked himself out in a large mirror he’d set up along one of the walls. Keith had to do a double-take when the bodybuilder made a double biceps pose and it seemed like his arms were swelling larger than ever. He changed to a side chest pose causing deep striations to Tsunami across his mega-plump pectorals. Most of his neck and a little of his chin was gobbled up by the heaving bust. His face was stony and emotionless for a moment, until he scowled and blasted a most muscular, squeezing as much blood and testosterone into his muscles as if by force of will alone. “GROW FUCKING GROW!!!!” he chanted. Keith groaned as his lust level shot up. His cock leapt around in his shorts. Umberto oozed more of his signature muscle-stink. Keith drew it in deeply and savoured it. It was like he was smoking a joint, only it felt way better. He briefly thought about the pills again. Could there be a connection? He thought about whenever he’d eat anything with garlic in it, he could smell it in his socks the next day. Now he was thinking about food, and he heard his stomach rumble. Umberto stopped posing, having heard Keith’s noisy churning insides. “Fuck, I never offered you something to eat. You must be starving. I’m starving as well. We can’t do porn on empty stomachs.” In the kitchen Umberto opened the huge American-style fridge. It mostly contained milk, eggs, leftover takeout, some cold fried chicken drumsticks, and several containers of protein shakes ranging from chocolate and vanilla to strawberry. He peeled the clingfilm away from the plate of chicken, and took a sniff. “Phew… we won’t be eating those, they’re off.” But the milk was good and there were plenty of eggs. He rummaged around a little and found some dried parmesan in a container at the back. “I’ll whip us up some omelettes. My Sicilian grandmother taught me a thing or two about Italian cooking. But first…” Umberto took out a container of protein shake and scarfed it down in one impressive gulp. He poured some into a glass for Keith, who was only too keen to accept it. Then Umberto opened a drawer and took out a small ziploc bag identical to the one Keith had found amongst the spilled polystyrene from the crate. He popped into his mouth what seemed to be the last greenish-white pill from the bag and washed it down with more protein shake. Almost immediately Umberto’s muscle-stink intensified to an eye-watering level. “Um… what was the pill, some kind of growth supplement?” Keith hoped he hadn’t crossed a line with Umberto that might set him off in a mood other than hospitable. “For my allergies, nothing more. I must order a refill,” Umberto seemed happy enough to explain. So he won’t miss the bag I swiped. Allergies my arse, Keith thought to himself. What happened next blew Keith Doppler’s mind. Umberto closed his eyes and started drawing in deep lungfuls of air. Keith had to rub his eyes against the now visible miasma of musk rippling out of Umberto’s skin like the heat haze from sun-scorched tarmac. Every muscle on his body started to ripple also, but not as though they were flexing into the forms they had been moulded to. This was more. This was growth. Spontaneous, mind-blowing muscle-growth. Umberto grew bigger right before Keith’s astonished eyes. His naturally golden bronze skin flared red as every blood vessel was flooded with a hypertrophic elixir that caused every muscle to inflate larger than before. But how could his muscles get any larger when there was little room left for them to grow and expand? They already hulked out of every inch of his titanic frame. How could they get bigger? All reason relative to this left Keith’s mind as his lust for muscle-growth in bodybuilders underwent its own growth. Umberto’s upper body bulged obscenely with extra muscle mass, specifically his already massive pecs just ballooned more and more massively. They inched out further than before, wider, becoming more deeply lined and striated. The upper pecs surged upward, gorging on the little free space Umberto had between them and his granite jawline. He smirked a manly smirk of utmost satisfaction and his eyes appeared to be glazed over, as if the transformation had him enthralled by its initiation. Keith was rock hard, now, and so he had to release his manhood. Being a hefty lad himself, at 220+ pounds and standing six feet two inches, he was still tiny compared to Umberto, but his erection didn’t go very far for him. He wished constantly for a massive penis, but had to make the most of what he had. Still, he’d not had a wank since the previous evening, so there was quite a build-up of jizz in his gonads. He began rubbing his dick, feeling the moist precum already lubricating his glans. Umberto’s pecs blossomed hugely, impossible to tell how many extra inches they were adding to his chest. Like the pecs they depended from, his juicy nipples gobbled up the growth energy surging through him, and they grew to three times their size. Incredibly the nipple rings couldn’t deal with the pressure of expanding muscle nubs, and so they simply snapped apart, sending small pieces of gold flying. One piece hit Keith’s cheek, but he barely noticed as his lust rose feverishly. “AW FUCK!!! I’M GETTING HUGE! HUUUUGE!!” Umberto felt his traps expanding, hulking upwards to the point where they actually pushed against his earlobes. Veins erupted all over them, cracking across his shoulders which got wider and wider. His deltoids fumed with mass, rippling and rolling into segmented globes of extreme masculinity. His lats widened further, the delta spread pushing out his arms which fought against the onslaught by bulging more thickly than before. His biceps grew savagely, swelling larger than his head, but still they had to get bigger. Massive horseshoes erupted from the backs of his arms, as his triceps, too, underwent a mammoth transformation. His forearms thickened considerably, pushing out bigger, thicker, and more abundant snaking veins that throbbed with unnatural, godly energy. His waist, in contrast, grew a little narrower as his abdominal brickwork shifted and compacted, expanding, however with size and definition whilst simultaneously tightening up and shaving a whole inch off his waistline. His intercostals burst out further, deepening into fish-scale knots of extremely hard muscle tissue. His shoulder-to-waist ratio increased to an astonishingly beautiful level. He pushed out a full last spread and the lats flared so huge that there was no free space between the lats and his arms, turning his upper body into one huge wall of still-expanding muscle. He was able to heave his pecs up even higher, and he needed to bend his head backwards at his sinewy tree trunk neck to give them room to grow. From Keith’s viewpoint, he could now only see the tip of Umberto’s nose over the titanic horizon of those gorgeous, guzzling globes. Downstairs there was also growth, with Umberto’s hulking junk expanding in size, length and girth, gaining ponderous mass and weight. His balls grew to the size of cantaloupes, and his member thickened and lengthened, flaring red and then purple as the partly laced-up shorts couldn’t bear the strain. From behind, his gluteus muscles thickened, pushed out further, and widened, adding even greater distress to the spandex that struggled to contain all this extra flesh. But they couldn’t. The shorts tore apart, the laces at the front snapped, and several pounds of man junk spilled outward and upward. Umberto was so engrossed in this experience that his boner went instantly rock hard, his dick slamming into his abs wall with a mighty thump. His quads and hamstrings also thickened, with new tissue forming between his muscle fibres, forcing them apart, and allowing extra muscle tissue to form. Likewise, below his knees, his calves thickened and widened, splattered with cuts and veins. He flexed them and they grew to the size of bowling balls. He turned around, knowing Keith would want to see his transformation from behind. His V-taper from behind looked even more spectacular, and Umberto struggled to get his two fists into the proper positions on either side of his waist so that he could belt out the biggest lat spread he’d ever performed. He would have to grow used to overcoming any restrictions of movement affected by his now bigger muscles. But hey, it was all about tasting the sour and the sweet, right? His traps from the back bulged hugely, forming pec-like structures of their own, and making his neck seem to disappear altogether. As he unknotted his muscles by fanning out his back, the spread was insanely enormous. It would be difficult for him to get through a lot of doors from this point forward. With the spandex shorts finally exploding away from him, Umberto was completely nude. He tensed his arse muscles against each other, and deep cuts cracked and rippled across them. He brought up his arms in a double biceps and titanic peaks pushed upward, higher than his fists. At this point Keith lost it, and he shot a sizable gobbet of spunk with enough force to splatter Umberto’s butt. Some of it went in between the hyper-muscled cheeks, moistening the entrance to his hole. “Uunnghhhh,” Keith was in the throes of orgasm, his entire body shuddering with the effort. His growth now slowing considerably, Umberto turned around again to face his guest and hoped to squeeze a little more growth out of his muscles before the transformation ended. He growled and screamed and ordered his body to flex into the biggest most muscular of his life. A couple more inches burst out of his biceps, actually denting deeply into the sides of his pecs, and they, in turn, bulged more outwardly, forced to do so by the amazing pressure the pose applied to them. Many more pounds of muscle bulged out of him, but soon halted altogether. With the breath almost gone from him, Umberto paused to catch it once more. His body glistened with sweat from the effort of holding in his jizz during the metamorphosis, which only he knew at this point was what helped him to attain more growth. Releasing too soon, and the growth process would be less dynamic, resulting in less growth. But he’d had these growth spurts several times now, and he’d learned to execute great control over his libido. He closed his eyes, seeming to meditate for a couple of minutes. Then he relaxed his muscles (although they still looked insanely pumped even when he wasn’t flexing). A serene composure now replaced his previous enragement and cocky demeanour. Silence pervaded. Keith with his shorts down around his ankles, stood looking at Umberto, his six-incher refusing to go back to a flaccid state. “Whuh-what just happened? You… you’re HUGE!!!!” Keith’s question and exclamation came out as a series of gasps. The orgasm caused by watching a gigantic bodybuilder grow even larger left him spent. But muscle-growth is not meant to happen this way. Keith thought about the pills he’d swiped. They were in his shorts pocket. He stooped to pull back up the pants. Umberto immediately went to the fridge to get another protein shake. He decided Keith deserved an explanation. He’d never grown to a spectator present before, not even on cam or during his modelling work for the artists. “About six months ago, I didn’t look like this.” Umberto paused to drink the rest of the shake. He chose his next words carefully. “I had a physique quite similar to yours, only… with less muscle mass under the fat than what you have.” He paused again, this time to let Keith process what he was hearing. Keith began to shake his head in order to punctuate his sheer disbelief. “You did all this in just six months? And just now, right in front of me you look like you added another hundred pounds, maybe more. This happened right after you swallowed your so-called ‘allergy’ pill.” “A hundred pounds? Hmm, feels like more. Let me look at myself in the mirror.” Umberto muscle-waddled across the apartment to his gym area, finding his gait somewhat awkward as his even thicker thighs rolled and jostled against each other in an effort to propel him. When he saw his reflection in the mirror: “Dayum! Looks like a lot more than a hundred pounds this time.” He made a full lat spread and two huge globes of pec meat ballooned and bulged obscenely. His entire upper body bulged hugely. It was actually difficult for him to fully take in his size holding this pose because of having to bend his head back at the neck every time in order to give his pecs enough room. “Jeezus H, I’m enormous. Truly fucking HUGE!” Keith stood next to him and both gazed in awe at their reflections. Umberto was three inches taller than Keith, but he now probably outweighed him by a good five hundred pounds, maybe more. The contrast between their physiques was staggering. “How is this possible?” Keith was stuck for something further to say. Even though he’d shot a big load, his dick was getting aroused once again. It was impossible to stay flaccid when in the company of a muscle god. “I work lots of jobs. My body gets me a lot of attention. It started six months ago when I had a growth spurt overnight. The day before my eighteenth birthday. I sup—” “Wait, you’re only EIGHTEEN?” Keith interjected, convinced Umberto was at least in his late twenties. He was so huge and masculine, his goatee perfectly sculpted, still young-looking facially, but he looked nothing like a teenager. “Well, eighteen and a half now, I suppose. I know, I look a lot older, but in a good way, of course. It’s my condition.” Umberto bounced his pecs and appeared in awe of their extra weight. It was a chore to get his hands up to caress them, due to his new, larger biceps pushing against his even heftier forearms. Simply bringing his hand up to attempt this caused biceps, pecs, and forearms to collide. It was an amazing feeling, as though the muscles might force each other to explode at any moment. “Wonder what happened to my nipple rings. I’ll have to look around for them. Probably need bigger, stronger ones now though.” Then Keith remembered they were destroyed, pushed apart by burgeoning nipples hungry to get longer, thicker, and more succulent. He felt the mark where the piece of gold had struck his face. Thankfully no blood had been drawn. “Your condition? You mean, your allergy?” “I was born with metazeniosis. It’s a man-made condition. My father took part in a hush hush military experiment over twenty years ago, but it was deemed a failure. Being Italian he was selected from about fifty candidates. There needed to be a lot of genetic diversity in the candidates, and so young, fit men were selected from all over the world. “But the experiment failed. It was meant to make the men into supermen, a new breed of soldier with physical enhancements beyond what nature could provide. But it didn't work. The test subjects didn’t respond to the treatments. All research on the project was destroyed, and records erased. The only knowledge remaining was in the mind of the lead scientist, Cyrus Redfern, who years later – or rather because of what happened later – was forced to further his research, this time without any ties to the military. “Not all of the candidates went on to father children, but over half did. I was one of the children born with the enhancements denied my father and his generation. The metazenic chromosomes I was born with should have kick started my muscle-growth from the onset of puberty. I was something of a late bloomer. The ones that this happened to at the right time were at the beginning of puberty, and so their growth was greatly helped along by so much growth hormone coursing through their veins. This helped them get huge from an earlier age, and to grow a lot taller, too.” Umberto now carried himself with a calm demeanour. He could think more clearly when not cocky and self-obsessed. It appeared that Umberto had a reserved side to him, in stark contrast to the alpha male arrogance he displayed when showing off his muscles, pumping the weights, and achieving spontaneous growth spurts. He continued: “We’re all pretty tall in my family. My dad is about the same height as you. I was six one when the first growth spurt happened, but I guess at eighteen, puberty had pretty much finished doing a number on me, although I did gain about four inches in height. But I haven’t grown any taller since.” Umberto went quiet to allow Keith to keep up with his amazing revelation. He had planned to tell all this to Lee over dinner tomorrow, but Keith reminded him a lot of himself before the muscle-growth. It seemed fate had intervened, coaxing him to reveal his big secret to another. “So there are others like you, all around the world?” It was the most incredible thing to observe Umberto’s ability, and even more incredible to learn how it came to be. He thought again about the pills. If Umberto was born with this condition, then what did the pills do? “Yep, about forty or so, as some of them will not have entered puberty yet. Not all of our dads fathered kids at the same time. I’m the only one in this country though, although I spent some of my younger years growing up in Turin. But bodybuilders here are getting bigger over time anyway. More and more crazy shit, like HGH boosters, and myostatin blockers, are circulating under counters and on the web. It’s a dangerous journey for a bodybuilder to take, but the desire to grow often overtakes the risks. “I won’t bore you with too many details. The rest is kinda boring. The lead scientist came into a fortune and used it to further his research into the condition, even enhancing it to make men bodybuild to even greater sizes with and without effort. I prefer a mixture of both. In order to track us down, the Redfern Institute now running the program set up special gyms all over the world to attract the biggest, most muscular bodybuilders on the planet. A bit controversial, in that you have to be at least two eighty in weight to get accepted as a member. “Of course, metazenic bodybuilders such as myself were attracted to these places like moths to UV lamps. You have one right here in town.” “Gridiron,” Keith again interjected, wishing that one day he could be big enough to lift there. “Yeah,” Umberto nodded, “It’s a bit controversial ‘cos it can be seen as discriminatory, I guess. Originally the membership minimum weight requirement was four hundred pounds, but they gradually lowered it, giving ordinary bodybuilders the chance to get big enough to join.” “Sounds like a smokescreen to something sinister,” Keith offered as commentary. “It’s not sinister at all. Just a company trying to right the wrongs of its past. We’re no longer being created to fight on battlefields. Our muscle-growth has tremendous medical applications. The institute is looking into eradicating many diseases, like muscular dystrophy and other wasting conditions.” Keith nodded in favour of such terrible diseases finally getting cured. But he had a myriad of questions he wanted answers to. They all swirled around in his head, giving him a mild headache. “So what’s your allergy that has you taking pills, which you seem to have run out of?” Keith thought about pretending to find a pill on the floor and offering it to Umberto, to see if it would trigger further muscle-growth. “Well, it’s not an allergy in the truest sense of the word. But they help maintain a certain balance when I grow. All the other metazenic bodybuilders continue to grow taller as they gain muscle mass. It means that they maintain the same proportions as regular bodybuilders, just that they look larger. There are a few that have even exceeded eight feet in height, but their muscle mass is proportionate to, say, a super-heavyweight Mister Olympia contestant. “But I don’t grow taller. So the pills were specially developed to help regulate the growth process so I don’t fill out in the wrong places as my muscles continue to grow. Without them I could end up being wider than I am tall, and I’d probably be unable to move.” “So what triggered the growth spurt after you popped the pill?” “I felt it coming on. They can happen sometimes if my testosterone levels get too high. Also by swallowing other men’s cum. It kinda mixes with my own and can trigger a growth spurt. They mostly happen after a workout and when I’m sleeping, but I guess this one was a mixture of a couple of things. I shot a huge load in the showers over at Gridiron earlier, then later swallowed Lee’s load. The Redfern Institute believes I can sometimes trigger muscle-growth just by thinking about it. I dunno,” Umberto shrugged. His delts and traps heaved with size and power. “Plus I kinda like having you here watching me pump up, ‘cos I sense how you envy my body and would kill to have one like mine.” “Wow, I – I don’t know what to say, Umberto. Was I that obvious?” “Heh, you can see in your eyes your lust for muscle is so strong. I always dreamed of being a bodybuilder, ever since I was a kid. I guess my enhanced genetics gave me that longing from early on. I started lifting weights at fourteen, hoping it would trigger puberty, but I’d usually drop the weights after a few dismal minutes, in favour of my game controller. So I was something of a doughboy myself.” Umberto leaned forward to playfully pat Keith’s spongy gut, causing the smaller man to reflexively step back a little. “Sorry, I er… wasn’t expecting you to do that, Umberto,” Keith said, sheepishly. “It’s okay, as you can see, I’m calmer now. After a growth spurt as great as this one, I usually leave the alpha male cockiness behind for a while, although it can come back at any time. It’s just… my muscles get me so aroused. Then it kicks in again.” Umberto resolved to learn better self-control from now on. Keith needed to know more: “About the pills; when you swallowed that last one your body started giving off a haze, like sweat evaporating quickly. And the smell of it was sensational. Your muscle musk is beyond intoxicating.” Keith had gotten the same smell from the bag of pills he’d found when he spilled the packing crate earlier. Was Umberto even aware of this? How could he know the pills gave off the same reek as he did if he was constantly producing it himself? “Yeah, it drives most men crazy, heh heh. Doesn’t affect women though, but I’m gay anyway, so I really couldn’t give a fuck about women. I don’t have any female friends. I have two sisters though, both back in Italy. They’re nurses. We get on okay. I’ve always been open to them about my growth. They know it’s not my fault.” Umberto made his pectorals dance for fun. He loved how much heavier they felt as they hung over his impressive eight-pack, casting crescent shadows over the top four bricks. “So the pills, in a way, do enhance your growth. Would they work on a man who doesn’t have your ability?” Keith was dying to know this. Would the pills work on him? Could they give him the body of his dreams? “Um… maybe, a little. I dunno really. I’m not au fait with much of the science behind it. I did see Redfern do a trial on them a couple of months ago. I go there once a month for check-ups to make sure there are no abnormalities with my growth, and/or negative reactions to the meds. “But with regard to the trial, the results were hardly anything better than a steroid cycle. Some men grew about ten pounds of muscle and also lost body fat in the space of a few days. But the pills aren’t meant to be taken altogether by men that were born normal. You need to only take one every seven days. I have to take one every night, in case I have an uncontrollable growth spurt in my sleep and wake up wider than my bed. I can also take one when I feel a growth spurt coming on just like the one I took in front of you. Which reminds me, I need to get more pills couriered over from the Institute a.s.a.p. I thought I had another bag of them, but they got lost in the move.” Umberto half-strutted, half-waddled, over to his phone to speed-dial The Redfern Institute. Keith tried to hide his excitement. So the pills COULD make him grow muscle. If he was careful not to overdo it, he could finally increase his lean muscle mass as well as burn off his stubborn reserves of fat. Umberto believed the bag to be lost, so he wouldn’t miss them. Keith thought about popping one right now. But he decided to wait until he was home by himself in his flat. Besides, wasn’t there gonna be some porn later? He’d lost all track of time. He looked up at the skylight windows. Dusk approached, as the sun worked its way to the west and was beginning to set. It had been a day Keith wouldn’t soon forget, if ever. As for the evening, well… *** John the bodybuilder stood in front of his full-length mirror fixed to the back of his bathroom door. Like the rest of his shitty apartment the bathroom was dingy and even foul in places. He wasn’t big on cleaning, and really only slept there when he wasn’t working or going to the gym, which suited the cockroaches perfectly. He was completely naked so that he could survey what hard work and too much juicing had done to his body. He still looked good, or so he thought. Women still “digged” him, and he had no problem getting all the pussy he needed. The problem was, thanks to steroid abuse, he needed help ‘getting it up’. Thirty years old and needing Viagra. What a joke his life had become. He was massively in debt, working for his cunt brother, and to top it off, his acne was spreading as fast as his testicles were shrinking. His pecs had developed gynecomastia, and that bothered him even more. He reached for the tattered remnant of Umberto Morelli’s shirt and inhaled its musky odour. He snorted the shirt like he sometimes snorted coke. The odour worked its way into his system, the effect of which actually made his eyes water. How could a garment hold such a strong smell? He’d heard of Umberto Morelli, but never met him or saw him in the flesh. There were plenty of pics of him on the internet, though, but 99 percent of the comments they got were from sceptics who believed the pics to be morphed. But the shirt told a story to John via his senses, and so he smelt it again and again. It was intoxicating. It was the smell of a bodybuilder, possibly the most densely muscled bodybuilder to ever exist. It was the smell of lifting hundreds of pounds of weight thousands of times; it exuded the essence of a man determined to grow bigger and bigger. His sweat screamed of this desire. His musk radiated determination at its most masculine. His testosterone quadrupled the strength of the man-stink. And it also reeked of his spunk, and, most likely, that of other Gridiron members. Lesser bodybuilders compared to Umberto, but still huge men in their own right if John were to compare himself to them. How many of these demi-gods had splashed the shirt with their own essences as they whacked off uncontrollably to the beat of Umberto Morelli pumping himself up in their gym? How much of their own sweat had rubbed off on the shirt whenever the god brushed past them as he moved about the gym on his insatiable journey of growth and power? Every day Umberto would pump up larger and stronger as he broke his records from the previous day surrounded by awestruck muscle-men who could only dream of even reaching half the size of the monster muscle-god. The shirt told all of this to John through touch and smell alone. It had transcended the mundane, no longer a piece of sweat-sodden fabric to be discarded and forgotten. It was a tapestry of power at its most primal and unsophisticated. It could absorb freakish, bodybuilding masculinity as readily as it could exude it. In this way it almost felt like it had a lifeforce of its own. The smell overwhelmed John, and so he feverishly rubbed the shirt across his chest. For the first time in ages, his dick started hardening without the need of medication. He grew more excited as his arousal intensified. John kept rubbing the shirt harder and harder into his chest until the acne pimples mottling his pecs began to ooze. He didn’t care; he was so turned on now. He continued to salve himself with the shirt using his left hand. He used his right hand to masturbate, something he hadn’t done since the steroids determined he couldn’t without a lot of help. He thought about being the biggest and strongest bodybuilder ever to exist, and this only made his arousal much greater. Before he could stop himself, he messed up all over his abs as he shot a torrent of jizz out of his hitherto near-stagnant prick. The air in the room was now saturated with Umberto’s muscle-musk, making it hard to breathe. The wank had winded him, and so John reached for his asthma inhaler, something he’d been using since childhood. It was after midnight when he got into bed, and it didn’t take long for him to settle. He was soon asleep, the chequered remains of a blue, navy and white shirt lying across his imperfect pecs.

Thanks to Dredlifter for the idea suggestion of this little thing - or maybe it will wind up being a big thing. I haven’t written a story like this in a long time - at least 4 years. I hope you will bear with me for a slow burn introduction here and getting my “verbal” chops back into shape. But the fun stuff will start coming next chapter. I am open to any and all feedback as I want to re-hone my writing abilities. Critiques are welcome -------- To Protect and Serve - Chapter 1 - The First Morning Prelude: Just imagine - You’re standing at attention with your peers in your best Class-A Uniform. All around you in the auditorium your friends, family, and fellow officers who can come are here to see the solemn occasion. A freshly earned, freshly shined badge has just been pinned on your chest by the Sheriff. You raise your right hand and take the oath. The oath is a bit different from jurisdiction to jurisdiction, but we boil its meaning down to one phrase - “To Protect and Serve.” So many have taken the oath. Some who took it did little things that made a big difference, while some risked their lives and paid the ultimate price. And some … well … some are special. This is the story of one of those special ones - no, he is even more than that. Though it was not his intention nor mine, he went beyond special. How do I know? He saved me. He has given me a life I could never have dreamed possible that first early morning. And what happened to him? Well, a transformation that is better in the telling. To those who take the oath as seriously as he did; To those who give it a new and bigger meaning as he did; to those who change more than they can imagine by repeating those words as he did, this story is dedicated. This is the story of what could happen if you could protect and serve many thousands of people, and just one man, me, in ways beyond your wildest imagination. ~ Gabriel York ----- A deceptively small man hung his duty shirt onto a dry cleaners hanger and placed it in his locker. As he stood bare chested in the cool air, he appeared to be hiding his body, but he had nothing to be ashamed of - having a lithe but very tight build under that shirt. Nicely shaped, mounded pecs accompanied hard small orange sized biceps. A tight 6-pack graced his lower abdomen to an impossibly small looking waist. He was way better than most men of his age, no “dad bod” here to be sure. But, the man always felt self-conscious in the locker room despite the room being empty. He wasn’t one of THEM, something that had haunted him since high school. He lifted one booted foot and then the other onto a wooden bench before him. Loosening the laces and pulling the side zipper, he removed each boot. He held them in his hands like precious artifacts for just a moment, remembering the first time he put these on. Soon it would be his last, he mused. His time could go on as long as he wanted. But -- he questioned why. What had he done to stay on? What good had he really done? REALLY made a difference? It took but a few more minutes for him to put on his civilian duty clothes (a departmental polo, slacks,and loafers), secure his badge to his belt, and close his locker. Most locker rooms were replete with all sorts of combination locks, but not here. A few men and most of the women officers used them, but it wasn’t exactly necessary. You couldn’t be in a much safer place after all. Deputy Sergeant John Declann closed his locker for the millionth time and went to collect his personal sidearm from the gun locker clerk. He had no sooner than entered the hallway from the locker room, he heard a truly tremendous booming upper bass voice: “WHOA, ONE SIDE DECLANN.” Declann immediately pulled back into the doorway and looked up … and up, to see 5 men in a tight formation with shields and cell-entry equipment. Each one of them was every bit of 6 foot 4 inches plus - although tactical boots always made you look taller than you were. They were more like 6 foot 2 without them - but still, they all out-weighed John by at least 60 pounds of muscle. At his 5 foot 7 inches in height and in normal shoes, he felt positively TINY seeing them pass by. That was sort of the point of those uniforms - to try and intimidate anyone who saw what was coming - and it always did, at least it did Declann. They were in helmets and wore thick padded vests, under which were black t-shirt with black BDUs and those boots below. While those clothes were technically “loose,” they did little to hide every oversized muscle in their massive bodies. Gigantic arms stretched forth from sleeves that seemed to be straining to the breaking point. 2 pairs of arms were thick, powerlifter looking, and 3 more were supremely cut muscle. The CERT - Cell Extraction and Response Team - blew past him looking like they were heading to Mary-pod - the maximum security section. No doubt it was to remove an offender from a cell for morning counts who did not want to be removed. There was no question, he WOULD be removed, no matter what it took. The injury inflicted was entirely the offender’s choice. And, that amount of muscle and its overwhelming power could do plenty of that. Declann had tried out for both the CERT and SWAT teams years ago. But at his 165 lb, it was deemed he just did not have the physical size necessary. “You have all the skills needed and more Deputy Declann,” he had been told. “You should be proud of that. But some other officers just beat you out in the scores. And we need you on the streets. That is where you belong.” Funny, he thought in a moment of jealousy. It was always those guys who were of larger than life proportions that got the spots, even if their skills were not as good as his. After the group had passed, Declann walked down the hall toward the sallyport and stopped. He always did it at times like this, halting at the Officer’s Gym. He looked inside. It was rather quiet, normal at 0545 and shift change. Still, he could see some of the remnants of workouts by the big guys on the force. 45 pound plates left on the sides of incline bench press rack. What looked like 5 plates on a side on the bar on the squat rack. Dozens on the leg press sled. It was a bit of a mess, in truth, but most well used gyms were. Now, Declann was no physical slouch. He always kept in shape and his skills honed as the primary martial arts instructor for the Sheriff’s Office. He could have done well in that room, even though he was pushing 40 years old. Could have grown. But, he sighed and went on. There was just a part of him that never wanted to face big men in the gym. The injustice of being mocked for his smaller size and unfamiliarity with the equipment the one time he went in blazed in him still all these years later. He guessed the big men thought it was good natured fun, but it hurt Declann deeply. So, he kept to his body weight fitness room and small dojo set up in the garage at home. That made him feel less conspicuous. When it came to them, John always saw himself as a small man in boots that were a size too big. And yet - to so many others, he wasn’t that at all. He was everything that made police work an honorable profession. --- John Declann had wanted to be a police officer for as long as he could remember. Since his youngest days, he had been fascinated by police dramas on TV, how they always seemed to catch the bad guy no matter the odds. How they always saved people in distress. In his mind, there was no better calling. No better way to spend his life. He had the mind to be anything he wanted. He excelled in most subjects in school and was a top flight musician. But, those pursuits were not where he heart lay. He was a cop at heart by his teenage years, and he did everything he could to prepare himself. He took JROTC through high school, where he picked up his interest in martial arts and started Aikido lessons. Though he wasn’t the best team sports, he blasted through the competition at his dojo. He became quite fit from the military style calisthenics workouts he adopted during ROTC summer camps. And, that fitness matched perfectly with his blooming skills with his hands and feet on the mats. Before high school was over, his featured had matured into those of a very fit, handsome young man with striking brown eyes. And he had his first degree black belt, the first degree of many. It took a nearly a year after graduating high school to get his first small town commission to the force. He spent his first 18 months in the jails, and then took and passed his Colorado POST exams. He had been a road officer ever since. Now, he was a Sergeant in the Boulder County Sheriff’s Office - an area not unknown for large scale crimes as it held the University of Colorado. “The Berkeley of the East” though had its full measure of minor offenses. But the area wasn’t exactly the worst gang spots in Denver either. He had for served with true distinction for nearly two decades since - being decorated for bravery multiple times for saving civilians lives under fire. He had saved those intent on suicide. He had even delivered a baby once in a convenience store, and the story made the local news. He had had plenty of hands-on run ins with offenders, but he gave way more than he got, never having much more than a bruise or a black eye on occasion. He just never saw what the community and his immediate superiors did - a good man, serving the people Boulder and the kids of the University the best way he knew how. --- John went out to his car - an unmarked Dodge - cranked it, and began the slow crawl toward the Turnpike then Wheat Ridge. One of the things he learned in his own initial officer training long ago was to never live in the county you worked in. It could always lead to problems with local offenders. So, it was up and over the Flatirons toward home. Even though traffic volume was already increasing as it spread toward Denver in the morning rush, his mind wandered as if on empty roads. He made the necessary turns though the city and came proximate to the University entrances, but was running his schedule through his mind. He was due for a weigh in at the doc’s today. And they usually took his measurements too. Height, waistline, all that stu -- John’s senses caught something in the barely lit dawn. Someone moving way too fast to be normally jogging to the right of his car. Moving toward campus. John slowed his vehicle and his brain went into observation mode. It captured the scene in moments with his practiced eyes and mind. A young man -- looking to be just outside of college age but could still belong to the University. Short, black hair. Trimmed beard. White button down shirt and navy slacks. Looked like there was some money invested in those clothes, certainly not cheap. Behind him, perhaps eight or so paces, was running - and running faster than the first - a white young man, shaved head, jeans and ratty t-shirt, tatted with jailhouse tattoos that stood out even under the fading street lamps. And, then John caught sight of a gun in the rear waistband of the second’s jeans. Semi-auto by the outline. Instinct took over. John turned his car in an instant, hit the flasher toggle for his lights, and wound with wildly fast, yet practiced precision toward the danger. Less than 20 seconds later, John pulled his car to a stop where his instincts said he could cut this off. “Boulder County Sheriff's Office -- ON THE GROUND NOW” John yelled as he leapt from his car and drew his weapon virtually simultaneously. The running suspect didn’t listen, just as John had expected. He instead broke his pursuit of the well-dressed man and taken off toward a side alleyway. But, John was good at his work. The offender was fast, but John - was FASTER. He holstered his weapon as he calculated his movements nearly autonomously. He had chosen his intercept point well. John calculated the takedown, knowing an almost undisputable, universal law - 95 percent of offenders have no idea of how to fight, and the remaining 5% seldom need to fight. And this one looked like the former. It took a few seconds, but just a few, for the whole pursuit to be over. Exactly two PPCT strikes and a normal compliance take down and the suspect wa on his back, with John twisting his arms and putting the handcuffs on. He never even had to hurt more than the punk’s pride. Once secured, John kept his knee in place just under the lower shoulder blades, cuffed arms resting on his quad, knowing a bodyweight advantage and leverage would be critical with this man who slightly outweighed him. “What’s your name?” John demanded as he patted down the suspect and quickly removed a 9mm weapon and several baggies of what looked like methamphetamine. “Fuck you” was the response. John smiled a bit and gave a half chuckle under his breath. He loved this a bit too much when it happened, and some mischievous streak in him just drove him to do it. “OK, Mister Fuk Yu. I am placing you under arrest for possession of an illegal firearm and possession of controlled substances. You have the right to remain silent …” John mirandized the “Mr. Fuck,” pulled him up to his feet, and maneuvered him the few yards to his car. He put the offender in the back seat and locked the door of his unmarked. The guy was going nowhere. Now, to more important matters. John made his way toward the young man being pursued - who had by now stopped and was almost collapsed on the sidewalk. Declann withdrew his cell, called 911, and requested uniformed officers to his location. He was upon the man on the sidewalk just as he hung up. John immediately knelt down to do a quick assessment of his condition. There were no obvious signs of trauma at the first once over. He then took a more careful look at the victim’s features. While he certainly wasn’t of student age, he was still under 30, John guessed. And, he was a very nice looking under 30 to boot. Blue eyes setting off dark, intense features. Old enough to just have the barest hint of a wrinkle at the eye but nothing else. John noted a rather slim body - the size of his own would have been were it not for his training in Aikido and Krav Maga. John felt a twinge of attraction.Yes, John was bisexual, but no one cared among his superiors anymore. Besides, he had always kept that part of himself separate when on duty. “You OK Sir? I can’t see any obvious injuries. Do you need an ambulance?”John asked as he came and sat down at the man’s level. “Thank you . . . . officer, thank . . . you.” The man panted in reply with a pronounced British accent. “I was . . . just going toward my . . . lab . . . after my tea . . . when this fellow . . . started chasing me screaming at . . me. ” The young man was now gathering his breath, becoming easier to understand. John was a bit surprised to hear that English accent coming from him. Not unheard of, but still unusual in Boulder. “Did he assault you in any way?” The Englishman finally looked up to see John’s slightly older but obviously concerned and kind face. He visibly relaxed as he looked into John’s light brown eyes. “No, he never caught me but he was close. I am not exactly in running shorts and shoes here. But thanks to you, I’ll be OK. I do not know what would have happened if you had not arrived when you did.” “With what I found, I suspect he wanted to mug you. You are rather well dressed for campus, if I may observe. And, forgive me, if he heard you accent, you may have looked like an quick target as a tourist. When the uniform officers get here, you will need to give a statement to them, or you can give it to me if you prefer. We need to make sure this scumbag gets what he deserves.” “Of course. Anything I can do to assist, although I would be much happier speaking to you.” the man said giving just a hint of a smile. It was then that the uniformed officers in their black and white vehicles showed up. John excused himself for a moment, let the uniforms know what was going on, and allowed them to take the offender back to the jail for booking. John then returned to the man still sitting on the sidewalk. Pulling out a notebook he kept on him for times like this, John got all the pertinent information as he had done thousands of times before. Name, description of what happened, when, and why, if he knew. Any details the young man, who he had come to know as Gabriel York, may have remembered before, during, and after. As he took the statement, John became even more convinced this was an attempted mugging, perhaps for more drug money, maybe even more if that weapon came into play. Knowing he had all he needed, John said, “Finally, is there a way we can contact you if we have further questions. The staff from the District Attorney's office will be sure to want to speak with you about testimony if it comes to that. Although with the evidence we have, this one will probably plea. This is not his first time in jail.” Gabriel reached into his pocket for a very expensive-looking leather wallet and removed a business card. “This is my lab contact information. I am easiest to reach either here on campus or with my secretary. My other lab is ...a… well ... it is easier to reach me here. Again I can’t thank you enough, Sergeant.” “Believe me, Dr. York, it was my pleasure. I am just glad you are safe and sound.” John said. “Are you OK to go on your own or would you like me to escort you to your lab? I would be happy to do so.” “Thank you sir, but I think I’ll be fine. My lab is just over the hill in the Biological Sciences building.” Gabriel replied. “OK” John said, handing Gabriel a card of his own with his name, rank, and contact information on it. “This is my card. If you need anything or remember anything else, please do not hesitate to call me anytime, day or night.” ‘Of course. Sergeant Declann.” The Englishman arose with a friendly hand from John. Almost as an afterthought as he was leaving, York turned around. “Oh, Sergeant Declann, by the way. I do ….ah… certain work down at the Federal Center in Denver. I will have to report this incident to my superiors there and to the British consulate. In case there is testimony or something as you said. They may wish to speak with you. Just to make sure. You understand?” John nodded. Ah, he works with the feds as an international scholar of some kind, and the red tape must be dealt with. “Of course. No problem at all. I’m proximate to the Federal Center half the time anyway.” York nodded an ascent and turned again to walk away. John stood a moment watching - and admiring - Dr. York move until he was sure he was alright AND that he was moving toward the Biology building. He turned around and began to make his way back to his car. As he did, he looked down at the card: Gabriel York, MD. PhD., FACS Research Director/Professor of Medicine Advanced Bio-neurological Applications Project University of Colorado School of Medicine Hmmm, John thought. He looked a damned sight young to be in such a prestigious job, a full professor under 30 and with two doctorates at least. And a fellow of the ACS -- so why talk to the Consulate? John’s “detective sensor” started to sound off in his mind. This advanced applications thing wasn’t a program he was familiar with, but there were so many new research projects on campus these days. But, as soon as the “alert” came, he let it go. Probably a government grant given what he said about the Federal Center. John was reviewing the incident in his mind for his own after action report as he pulled onto the highway. Suddenly, there was a loud roar of a horn and air brakes. John never even saw the tractor trailer that plowed into his car, crumpling it in an instant like so much tissue paper and driving it 30 yards down the highway. *** Two Hours Later *** Trauma room one at the University of Colorado Hospital was abuzz with activity. At least a dozen doctors, nurses, and specialist technologists in yellow plastic smocks and shields hovered over a trauma bed doing a myriad of tasks to the man laying there. “What do we have?” the lead trauma surgeon said as he came into the room and took up control of the life-saving operation. On of the smocked figures raised up and stepped back, raising his shield. “John Declann, caucasian male, age 39. Boulder County Sheriff’s Deputy. MVA - car versus tractor/trailer. Passenger was in a seatbelt with airbags deployed but required extraction by fire-rescue. Initial assessment shows superficial cranial abrasions, with most likely a simple concussion. No evidence of other cranial, brain, or upper spinal injuries. Seat belt bruising pattern is highly indicative of internal organ disruption, but nothing so far on physical examination and plain films of the abdomen. Lacerated and collapsed left lung, reinflated with chest tube. Pneumothorax proximate to same lung injury also responding. Initial x-rays show compromised T-12 vertebral body and possible pelvic fracture. No apparent lower limb trauma beyond cuts and bruises from extrication from the vehicle. CT scans are coming up now for the spinal and pelvic injury areas. This was a driver’s side T-bone crash. I think that this guy’s level of fitness is why we’re talking about saving his life and not pronouncing him. ” the lead resident efficiently rattled off. The lead surgeon took a look at the patient, and agreed with the resident’s assessment. John was alive because of his trained, flexible, body and more than a little random chance. But what kind of life was it going to be? The doctor walked over to the computer terminal screens and pulled up the CT scans. The pelvis showed a simple left side Ilium fracture. Non-displaced. Something the orthopods could deal with easy enough. He then flipped to the scan of John’s spine -- and frowned. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as he looked. He sat down on a stool and zoomed, in, out, rotated, and closely examined the different views provided by the technology. The burst fracture was unmistakable and at precisely the worst spot for leg function. As he walked back to John, the doctor barked orders to the residents and nurses, while he removed an ink pen from his pocket. He ran the pen up first one foot and then the other. Goddamnit, he thought. The veteran doc’s heart sunk even more. “Get neurosurg here stat. Tell them severe impact, burst fracture at T-12, CT visualization and reflex response indicative of cord injury.” The room went silent for a moment before carrying on. It was always hard to treat an officer. Much less for this. The supervising physician turned and again just looked at the radiology. The soft tissue injuries were no walk in the park, but were easily fixable, recoverable in just a few weeks, the pelvis in a couple of months, except …. that. There was no hope for that, in his experience. This man would be paralyzed. Five minutes later the head of neurosurgery looked at the same CT scans, and came to the same conclusion. No hope. They could do an exploratory, check and see if by some miracle there was just pressure on the cord from a fragment, but not likely. Better to just do a vertebral stabilization with the orthopods, but his chances to recover function … Declann had been stabilized and was ready for transfer to have his lung laceration repaired. As he was about to be moved, another man in a white coat burst into the trauma room. One look from him toward John, and his eyes moistened. “I...I...can’t believe it.” the black haired man wept at the side of the bed. “I had to be sure.” The man almost looked skyward, “Why him?” Gabriel tenderly wiped a finger down John’s cheek. “Gabriel?” the head of neuro looked up. “What are you doing here? Do you know this man?” “This man, he saved my life this morning, not even four hours ago. Kept me from getting mugged by this man with a gun. Everyone heard the crash and when I saw that the wreckage was his car. Is he going to be OK?” Gabriel was out of breath and had obviously lost clinical detachment between the events of this morning and the shock of seeing the officer who had been so kind and patient with him lying there. He would have been removed if treatment were still going on, but it was basically complete save moving him to OR. The two attendings just nodded toward the computer screens with the radiology still on it. Gabriel walked from John’s head side, looked, and was overcome with remorse and guilt. Had he just been at his normal time, 15 minutes later, none of this would have happened. But, he just HAD to check on a minor experiment. And now, this man lay here because of him. Gabriel zoomed in to the machine’s maximum sensitivity. He looked again and again. Through a choking voice, Gabriel looked around and almost whispered. “Jack, can you send me these scans please? To my secondary lab.” The lead neurosurgeon looked horrified, searching for a reason not to. “Gabriel. You can’t be serious. You know I can’t do that. It violates protocol, federal law--” Gabriel cut him off, almost angrily “Jack you know I can take care of that with one call to Washington.” “What are you going to do?” Jack asked, never having seen such anger in the young, brilliant surgeon and scientist. “IF I can, if there is anything I can do, I am going to try and help this man.’ “You can’t have a man as a lab r--. I can’t sanc---” Jack stumbled. Gabriel stood to his full height, taking on an almost military bearing. “You know I can and will go over your head if I have to. I will have him removed if I must.” Gabriel took a breath and seemed to calm a bit. “Jack I am not promising that I can or will do anything, I do not know if there is anything to do. But I have to try. I owe it to him. He is here because of me. I have to try or I’ll never forgive myself.” Jack knew Gabriel could follow through on his threats in an instant. He had seen some small manifestations of Gabriel’s connections to political power before, and he knew that interference in hospital functions was the very least of what he could do. As much as Jack detested it, with this kind of anger Gabriel could bring down the mountain on top of his whole hospital. But, as it was, there was nothing anyone could do for Officer Declann, not even York. Jack just silently waved his fingers in a gesture of defeat, nodded an ascent, and transferred access to Gabriel as primary attending physician. “Thank you Jack. I owe you about 10 times over for this.” “I WILL HOLD YOU TO THAT,” the older surgeon replied, his voice suddenly sharpened. “And I insist on one thing. Before you present him any of those things you do that I do not have a clue about, you will at least get his consent.” Gabriel looked like he had been shot himself and his voice shook, “I would NEVER do anything to harm him.” York turned on a heel and left the room, walking out of the ER doors, and toward his car in the parking lot. As soon as he was in the vehicle with the door closed, he pulled from his pocket an encrypted cell phone with just one number it could access, locked to his fingerprint. A male voice answered in military precision, “Yes, Doctor York?” “Codeword Ariana. I want the full computer network prepped for simulator study based on some CT scans that will be coming from CU Trauma ER shortly. Run the program with emergent parameters and stand by to report when I get there. Not a proof of concept level scan, Don, but full cellular level calculations. I am leaving the hospital now. We have 24 hours at the most to complete simulations. And...ah.. Don. This is important to me, personally.” “Yes SIR,” the sharp voice on the other end said. Gabriel could not quite understand what he was feeling, this pull toward this man. He didn’t know the man existed six hours ago. Sure, there was guilt and anger and sadness. But, he just could not remove from his mind those eyes he saw this morning. Those haunted, caring brown eyes. Something about him. This John Declann. He did not know what. But he saw it in his eyes. He deserved more than this, and Gabriel would find out why. He would make it happen, he willed it to happen as he drove toward the freeway. This good man would walk again.

"Too big,” they’d said. Lose about 25 lbs and you’d place a lot higher. Tighten it up and come in smaller and more toned, and you’d have a good shot at winning. Those were the judges critiques at last year’s Olympia. It was a shame that women’s bodybuilding was so...so.... lame? Wasn’t the point of bodybuilding to get BIGGER muscles? Why have a heavyweight division if they’re only going to say I’m TOO BIG? Wasn’t that why they created bikini and physique? For those cute little muscle Barbies? Not for us musclebound women intent on being the best. And oh boy, do I intend on being the BEST, the BIGGEST, the MOST MUSCULAR woman alive... Screw the IFBB and everyone at the Olympia. I don’t need them or their contests to know who I am. “Too big.” You’re damn straight. They had no idea just how right they were.. I’ll show them too big alright, just wait until they get a load of this bulky muscle monster now! When I placed at that very bottom last year, I admit...I became deeply depressed. All the hard work, all the blood sweat and tears for naught. Did the judges not know how hard I lifted? How insanely strict my diet was? Did they not appreciate my time and dedication? So much of my life was devoted to winning, only to find out that I was the absolute worst competitor in their eyes? Well screw them! I built muscle so easily. I’d always tried to my hardest to be lean and well proportioned. But screw that, not anymore! My new goal is to gain as much muscle as possible. And let me tell ya, nobody packs it on like me! I am a muscle-building MACHINE! Heck, at 18 years old I had 18 inch biceps, 20 inches at 21, and at last year’s Olympia my arms were 23 inches. I was 33 then...I’ll be turning 34 the day before the next Olympia. Trust me when I say, my arms will be AT LEAST 34 inches. But is that my ultimate goal? NAH! My goals are so much loftier now than they have ever been- impossible for any other man or woman, even with drugs. Am I insane? Am I insane to want this, to add so much muscle? Yes. Yes I am. My entire life has been a balance between my family and my passion for bodybuilding. My husband and daughter are my number one priority. And they always will be. They both could see how devastated I was. I didn’t eat right, or lift at all for 3 months. I was sleeping 15 hours a day. My husband told me to do whatever it takes to feel myself again. Whatever it takes to get my revenge. Thank God for that man. He is so supportive (although we all know he's a muscle-lover so it's a win win for him). I won’t let them down. It was 3 months ago I decided to get absolutely massive. It only took a month to get back to where I was before the loss. Another month to get to my current 350 lbs of rock hard muscle. Like I said, I gain muscle so easily. I still have 6 months before the next Olympia. Over the course of 1 month I went from 200 lbs to 220 lbs. I went from 220 lbs to 350 lbs in the span of 2 months. And still 6 more months to go? Yikes. They said I was too big. Just wait. It was 3 months out from Olympia when my husband purposed steroids. I've never done drugs in my life. Hell, I barley even drank alcohol. We both shared a passion for a healthy lifestyle. I scoffed initially, but kept the idea in the back of my mind. Would it really be so bad if started doping? Everyone else did it, and it was a point of pride for me that I never did. But this was about revenge. This was about getting even, settling the score. Showing them JUST how big TOO BIG really was... Two months out. Last week I had broke the smith machine in my house. I'd been doing seated military presses, just some volume work, light weight- high reps, when my daughter snuck up behind me and started tickling me. I inadvertently pressed up on the 500 lbs too quickly and bent the whole machine. When my husband came running in to investigate the awful noise, I just shrugged my gargantuan basketball-sized shoulders and grinned sheepishly. There really wasn't enough weight in my home gym to challenge me anymore, so no biggie! My brother was in the Navy and had managed to procure some anchor chains from a battleship. An early birthday present he'd said. I was initially nervous, I didn't want him to get in trouble! But he just pretended to zip his lips and rolled his eyes. He's a goofball but I love him. Ironically he did end up in trouble when he returned back to his ship. His superiors weren't happy when he told them he broke three ribs in a "fight." I might have hugged him a tad too tightly. Anyway...back to my workouts. My husband had found an old warehouse his company owned, and combined with the chains and some construction equipment we bought, I was really able to let loose! What were already unheard of gains were now well past inhuman, and they were only increasing more and more. My body was a temple of pure muscle mass and strength. I'd also started pills and injections. An old friend who was a doctor had moved to Brazil, and he’d designed a new muscle-building cocktail specifically tailored to my genetic profile. No negative side-effects: no hair-growth, no acne, no voice changes or facial changes of any kind. It did however greatly increase my aggression. One day, a neighbor had come snooping around to investigate why there was loud banging and rumbling coming from a supposedly-abandoned warehouse. I had barreled across the warehouse, knocking over equipment and flinging anything in my path. My neck veins popped as I ripped the door right off its hinges and tore it in half, spit flying in his face as I roared at him for interrupting. Luckily my husband was there to calm me down. Because I was about to run straight through the concrete wall and go tear the guys house off its foundation. Rampage adverted! Today is the day. The day I take revenge on those ignorant judges. The day I take my rightful place as the best bodybuilder the world has ever know. I entered the auditorium from the rear, just as all the puny contestants were being called out. The main door would attract to much attention...not that I was worried about THAT, I just wanted to scare everyone at once. The fire exit was locked, but I made quick work of it with one quick inward push from my 42 inch forearms. The door was much too narrow- my traps alone wouldn't fit through the standard 32-inch width door. The crowd was cheering so loud they must not have heard the noise as I barged straight through the wall with my obscenely muscle-packed delts. Or the noise and shaking as I rumbled down the hallway. I had been wider than I was tall for weeks. Not hard when you're only 5'3". My 8 foot wide shoulders smashed up against either side. My legs were so massively thick, pumped and musclebound that I had to swing my whole body around to move, causing my shoulders and arms to gouge into the walls and absolutely demolish them. When I got to the stage entrance, a big burly security guard spotted me and tried to stop me. Now, a 6'6" 300 lbs man's size would normally intimidate most people. Haha! I was double his weight...TWO MONTHS AGO. I was easily tipping 950 lbs at this point and growing every minute. Those roids had done wonders! Doing one arm curls with a multi-hundred pound anchor chain attached to a Ford Escort had pushed my arms well beyond 120" and they were freakishly cut and vascular. When the guard put his hand on my chest to stop me, I simply lost it. Anger turned to pure rage as I started clenching my fists- how dare he try and stop me, the ULTIMATE beefcake from her destiny. Freaky veins turned nightmarish as all the steroids began to mix with my hatred for all things Olympia. The 300lb man didn't stand a chance as I walked right through him. The impact of my bulldozer-benching pectorals effortlessly sent the guard flying 15 feet out onto the brightly lit stage. He landed on top of the contestants, knocking a few to their feet. The commotion silenced the cheering crowd. As the MC turned to see the disturbance he nearly fainted at the sight of my giga-mass. My extreme tan contrasted perfectly with my bright white Nike Shox, red bikini top and booty shorts. I looked like a UFC ring-girl who absorbed the Hulk and then overdosed on Human Growth Hormone. Contestants eyed me with both awe and fear. The judges called for more security- two men similar to the first came rushing towards me. Something primal in me snapped as I grabbed each man by the throat and quickly threw them into the crowd below me. I stomped to the edge of the stage and leered down at the judges with a sadistic grin and evil glint in my smoky eyes. My heart began to race as steroid-filled blood coursed through my veins, compounding with my intense rage for the biggest pump of my life. "Look at me now! Am I too big for you now?" I roared, cranking down into THE most muscular pose. I reached down a hoisted up two of the judges by their shirt collars. Spit flying in their faces, I roared, "Look at the monster you've created, this is all thanks to you!" I obsessively began doing bicep curls with their pathetic bodies, pumping my biceps faster and faster. Their weight was far too light and only added to my intense need to make them feel my wrath! Both judges wet their pants and lost consciousness. Angered even more, I hurled the two bodies out into the stands, the impact surely crippling the judges. Seeing them lying their motionless fueled my lust for revenge, for more dominance and violence! Glaring out at the world over my multi-foot deep pectoral cleavage, I grabbed the microphone stand next to me and pulled from either end. The stretched metal sheared in half from the brute power and strength of my bare hands. Audience members and contestants screamed and ran. "Yes! Run! Be scared! Be VERY SCARED!!! You are about to witness the rise of a goddess! The rise of a MUSCLE MONSTER! I am a massively pumped-up muscle building powerhouse, and I. WILL. HAVE. MY. REVENGE!" Swinging my behemoth body I hurled the twisted metal shards at the rear exits, shattering windows and creating more chaos in the audience as they struggled to exit. With an earthshaking rumble, I leaped down from the stage- my now 1,200+ lbs weight cracking the concrete floor like egg shells and sending tremors that registered on the Richter scale. With an animalistic grunt, I overturned the judges table like it was cardboard, sending it careening end over end. Eyeing the carnage and destruction with equal parts glee and fury, my attention fell on my ultimate prize: the stage. Who knows how heavy a full stage is? No seriously...I want to know. There had to have been at least a full ton just in the weight of the dozen or so competitors still on stage. Punching my hands through the wood paneling, I found grip on a metal I-beam running the length of the stage. Roaring like a possessed demon, I began to lift the stage. Nothing. How dare this sorry excuse of human engineering defy me! Tensing my monolithic arms, shoulders and legs, I funneled even more horrific power into my insane musclebound body and began to heave up on the structure. Ever so slowly, more and more cracking could be heard and I redoubled my efforts- pouring even MORE god-shaming , titanic, monstrous strength into my incredibly pumped and still-growing muscles. "You thought I was too big before? HA!!! You think I'm big now? Well just wait, I'm only getting started! Mama Pump is here to show you all true power and mass!" With a horrible shearing noise, a large piece of stage splintered and broke off in my hands. After all, it wasn't built to be picked up in one piece...even if someone was actually strong enough to do so. "Pathetic! So weak!" With a maniacal laugh I beat my chest like King Kong and screamed at the futility of fragile steel. My muscles bloating and expanding and pumping bigger and bigger with every huff and puff. Fleeing audience members tripped as the auditoriums foundation shook from the force of my massively overpowered arms slamming into my wrecking-ball sized pecs. They had said I was too big. There was no such thing. A monster had been born, and I was going to keep pumping and growing until every single one of them regretted ever crossing me.