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“Well, it looks like it’s just you and me . . . hey, what’s your name, little man.” “Jose.” “Good name. Well, it looks like it’s just you and me, Jose. Are you ready to go take on some bad guys . . . who actually used to be your leader and comrades?” “I only work for Mr. Alpha now.” “What’s that, Jose?” “I am your assistant, now . . . sir.” “Hey, I always wanted an assistant. Do you do laundry? Not that I have a lot. I mostly wear posers. I’ve just always wanted to ask someone that.” “I can do laundry, clean, and cook.” “You’re hired. When we’re done here I’ll take you back to my pad. Oh, do you do light repair work . . . you know, like holes in the ceiling.” “I do construction and painting.” “That makes you even more invaluable. I tend to break things, if you haven’t noticed.” “Trust me. I notice.” “Okay, to the big house we go, my friend, Jose.” The Ecuadorean smaller ex-guerilla had clearly become accustomed to the big man, in just a few hours. He raised his arms slightly, so Antoine could wrap a big arm around the guy’s torso for carrying. It was as natural as a child expecting his mother to lift him when he needed something, except, to Antoine, the small man weighed even less than a small child. The superhero had just lifted a tank as easily as someone lifts a paper cup. Jose was now an official sidekick. A normal human assistant, who would help clean up after Antoine got too excited and made a mess when he destroyed things. The giant knew his old friend, Marty, would be happy that he had a new ally in Jose. Marty didn’t appreciate Antoine’s strength the same way Jose obviously did. Mr. Alpha assumed he’d now get begged for strength feats at home. Each day would be filled with Jose making up labors for Antoine to do – just like some modern day Hercules. The thought of pleasing the little fella made the superhero contemplate wrapping up his present assignment in less than a minute – so they could head home – but then he realized all the exciting things he could do here to show off for Jose and that got him even more excited. By this point, Antoine had his new sidekick under his bulging right arm and was soaring through the air to land beside the big house. Jose was getting used to the way the powerful thrust of Antoine’s legs made the wind super strong as it whipped by his body. The big man, of course, felt nothing, but it was like being in the middle of a hurricane for his sidekick. After they landed, Antoine set the little guy on the ground. “I was thinking they could use some double wide French doors in this spot. You know, to catch those beautiful sunsets on those hills behind us. That’s me, always thinking of someone else. There are a few men on the other side of this thick wall, Jose. I’d stay to the side until they run out of bullets. Trust me, even though word had surely gotten out that bullets do nothing to me, they’re still gonna let loose like I was a hundred men invading. It’s just what the bad guys do – even if they know I’ll deflect them like they were feathers. Here we go. Stay protected little man. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get to watch all the good stuff.” “It is awesome, yes?” “What’s awesome, Jose?” “To know you can, how do you say . . . bust, yes bust in wall with hands.” “Oh . . . yeah, yeah it’s really awesome. There are a lot of things I can do. It will be fun to show you. It’s actually pretty easy for me to ram my fist through a wall . . . well, actually anything. I can punch through anything.” Antoine smiled at his little sidekick. He knew at that moment he had made the right decision to bring the strength junkie into the fold. Having an adoring fan around him all the time was going to be fun. Marty got tired of strength displays and destruction. Mr. Alpha had the feeling that his new partner had no limit to his love of strength. It was weird – the guy was not in love with Antoine, he wasn’t wired that way – but he was, however, in love with what the big man could do. Antoine turned back toward the wall and raised his larger-than-a-man’s-head fist to easily plow through the wall. An almost imperceptible light tap on his other biceps stopped him. When he turned to look down toward Jose, the small man was smiling and holding up his little pinkie. Mr. Alpha immediately understood. “I like the way you think, little friend. It is time for a workout for my little finger.” Antoine’s pinkie was actually thicker than both of Jose’s thumbs put together. The small sidekick kept renewing his envy of the big man’s hands every time he looked at them. He felt inadequate every time. Mr. Alpha pressed his small finger against the big wall. He applied pressure – the same amount another guy might push against wet tissue – and suddenly there was a popping sound and cracks started shooting out all over the concrete, originating from the fingertip. Tiny fissions turned into long cracks. Long, narrow cracks turned into big cracks, which then turned into gaping valleys until, with a loud crash, and elephant sized hole in the wall fell inward. Inside it had probably sounded like some kind of monstrous machine was barreling through the wall. The stunned looks on the guerillas’ faces inside made entering with just a pinkie push that much more exciting. Antoine just smiled at the armed cadre of soldiers as dust settled and the sound of destruction subsided. “Ooops, sorry fellas, I might have pushed a little too hard.” Antoine knew what was coming next, so he pushed his small friend behind the part of the wall that was still standing. He knew the minds of criminals – especially when they were introduced to the unimaginable strength of Mr. Alpha. All logic escaped the brain. No matter how many times these guys had been radioed that the giant, mostly naked muscleman that had arrived found bullets nothing more than a nuisance, that information left all consciousness as soon as they were gazing upon his massive bulges in person. Without even thinking, they wanted to put a ton of bullets between him and them – in hopes all the stories they had heard were untrue. Even if the guy had just taken out an insanely thick wall with what seemingly seemed like nothing more than a press you’d use to ring a doorbell, they hoped to heaven they could stop him or slow him down enough to make a run for it. Thousands of bullets shot out towards Antoine. And each one flattened against his hard flesh and fell to the ground. To make the guns look even more useless and to put on a little show, Antoine began to pose as he was sprayed with machine gun fire. It was sort of surreal, even for the superhero, to be throwing his arms into a double biceps pose or crunching out a most muscular as he deflected bullets the way most people’s bodies absorbed and popped bubbles. Jose was close enough to see the bullets compact on themselves as soon as they touched the muscled-packed body of Antoine. It was just like bugs hitting the windshield of a car traveling over a hundred miles an hour. The big man just kept on flexing – as if it was only sprinkling rain a little onto his huge body. Guns finally ran out of bullets and the cacophony ended. “I see you fellas didn’t get the memo. Your bullets don’t even dent in my skin – they do tickle a little. I’m sorry you wasted so much ammunition, but it really is your fault for not listening to the shocked voices of your friends earlier screaming through their walkie-talkies. Everybody give my buddy, Jose, your guns.” Antoine reached behind the wall and grabbed the back of his small partner’s collar. Lifting him off the ground easily and moving him through the hole in the wall and setting him on the floor. Jose still had his fingers in his ears because of all the rapid fire from before. He took his right finger out and made a meek wave to his former comrades. He then quickly went around the room and gathered the ten to twelve guns in the room. It was difficult for him to carry them, but he finally made it back to Mr. Alpha. The big man wrapped his arms around the bouquet of machine guns and squeezed – tightly. To say the guns molded together was an understatement. It was more like some giant machine had melted the middle of each weapon, wrapped them all together like someone wringing out a dishcloth, and then let them refashion into one glob as they solidified again. It looked like some weird piece of modern art. Jose wasn’t sure if Mr. Alpha had increased his body heat a hundred fold to make it happen or if he had merely squeezed so hard it happened automatically. Either way, it was impressive as hell. “I don’t think you guys will ever get those things apart again . . . and even if you did, I can guarantee you they won’t work. Just imagine what a hug from me could do to the group of you fellas. Whoa, the looks of fear on your faces say you’re definitely imagining it. Well, look at this, Jose. These fellas are trying to get into the door where the Ambassador and his family are imprisoned. It seems like something’s keeping them out. That’s a mighty big drill you have there, fellas, if I do say so myself – and I know big drills. Looks like you haven’t gotten very far. Mind if I give you a hand?” It was clear that Antoine’s earlier handiwork – inside the prison vault – had definitely worked. A computer console with multiple gunshot holes over near the door led the big man to believe the soldiers had gotten quite disturbed when nothing they did would open the mechanical door. He was sure they had chosen to machine gun the console – just to see if that would make it work. Now, they had a major heavy looking, artillery-grade drill, which they had been clearly using to try and get through the huge thick metal door. It was clear that the piece of machinery was so big it needed three normal men to use it. Antoine walked over and easily picked the thing up in his huge paws, handling it like it was nothing more than a water pistol. “Now that I’m here, guys, you won’t be needing this thing. I’m much more powerful than this little thing.” With those simple words, Mr. Alpha snapped the huge drill in two – ripping it apart being nothing more than child’s play for him. The thing screeched loudly as Antoine pulled it into two pieces. Jose was starting to love the sound of metal when it screamed because Mr. Alpha manipulated it in a way that was not normal. As a matter of fact, the noise was beginning to be an automatic stimulant below his belt. Antoine then smashed the two drill pieces together in his hands and pushed so hard that they basically became one. He then tossed it on the ground in front of the still stunned soldiers. The poor men still hadn’t gotten used to the powerful masked muscleman in front of them. “Let’s open this little door, shall we?” Antoine was so ‘in charge’ that he turned his back to the little cadre of guerillas and faced the huge vault like door that was about the size of a garage opening. The big man knew the soldiers were so enwrapped in what he was doing that they would be passive and obedient, even without him giving any orders. They definitely wanted to see what came next. Antoine’s back seemed almost as wide as the door, itself. He inhaled deeply, sending his shoulders back and highlighting his insane V-shape even more. The man’s physique truly was spectacular – even for a superhero. Antoine had not wanted to just be powerful – he had desired to look powerful, too. He wanted to be one of those men people always begged to take off his shirt. He desired to look strong and huge no matter what he was wearing . . . or not wearing. The big man could feel the others in the room admiring him – and feeling deep awe as they gazed at all his beefiness. “It seems the combination for opening this door, fellas, is pretty simple – it’s muscles, strength, and Mr. Alpha.” Antoine spread his arms and pressed his fingers against the metal of the vault door. His arms exploded with veins and deep striations as he pushed in – his fingers sinking into the metal as if he were some chef fingering dough. His hands sank into the thick steel until his fingers completely disappeared – total submerged. He braced his thumbs against the door and bent his fingers – anchoring them securely inside the steel frame. Every muscle on his body exploded as Antoine pulled – his upper body responding to the powerful pull from his biceps and his legs bulging out because of the door’s resistance. Mr. Alpha was immediately surprised that his super strength didn’t rip open the door with one tug, but then he remembered, that he, himself, had secured the thing on the inside, so he was battling his own work as well as the door and wall. The huge muscleman also knew, however, that the door would certainly submit – it would just take a little more effort. That was the best part of being a superhero, never having to doubt your power. Antoine, wanting to make sure he still impressed his onlookers, let out a deep, guttural growl and doubled the strength in his pull. Jose could not control himself when he saw what was happening. He made the sign of a cross on himself and spoke out loud. “Santo infierno and holy hell!” Muscles exploded bigger everywhere on the superhero. It seemed that he doubled in size or grew like the Incredible Hulk from the exertion. Ripping the steel door off wasn’t enough for Antoine; he was ripping most of the steel, double enforced wall off the front of the room, as well. The entire façade was coming off in his tight grip; like it was some kind of doll house you could open up to play. The entire house seemed to shift as Mr. Alpha pried steel from steel – tearing an entire room apart. Steel girders popped in two, concrete disintegrated because it was powerless against the man, and the entire metal front of the vault was carried away in Antoine’s hands. The entire room sounded like it was part of an explosion – the men shielded themselves in case the wall came tumbling down. That, however, didn’t happen. Antoine knew everything was connected to the giant thick metal wall that had been the fourth for the room. He continued to hold the huge thing in his hands and turned to his new friends. “Now that’s what I call an entrance! What does one do with a wall? I guess lean it up against another one.” The big man kind of looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He was looking around – trying to think of how he could best deposit his handiwork somewhere. Ripping off a wall isn’t something one does every day, so there wasn’t really a precedent set as how to handle it. Antoine carried it over to a far side of the big lobby-like room they were in and leaned it against the wall where his earlier hole had been shoved through with just a pinkie. He banged the thing around like a bull in a china shop – hitting the ceiling, knocking furniture over, and causing men to run quickly as to avoid being smashed. As soon as he had dislodged his hands from the steel, Antoine shot his arms into a double biceps pose and looked at his now freakishly big peaks. “There’s nothing like plucking out a wall to build up the arms. Wouldn’t you agree, Jose?” The guerilla-turned-sidekick merely shook his head up and down as he gazed at his new friend’s huge arms. They were now bigger than small children. The biceps ballooned beside Antoine’s head in a way that made him seem like a living morph. His strength was certainly amazing, but the combination of his strength and size was beyond what anyone would think possible. Antoine dropped his arms and walked over to the giant gaping entrance he had made to the prison vault. “Oh no, fellas, look. The vault is empty! There’s no Ambassador or his family. I completely forgot to tell you I saved them a couple of hours ago. Yep, see that big hole in the middle of the room – where the metal floor is ripped apart like wrapping paper. That was me, fellas – busting up through the floor and helping your prisoners escape. I didn’t let on because I still wanted to have some fun – you know, ripping apart a tank, deflecting missiles with my pecs, and tearing out walls with my bare hands. So here’s what I think you should do, my friends. I think you should jump down that hole and when you get out on the other side of the tunnel I think you should return home and be good men. I could have easily flattened all of you with the wall, but I didn’t, did I? I don’t think you all are bad guys; I just think you were convinced by someone to do turn bad. What do you say, fellas? Do you want to escape or shall I show you what these monstrous arms can do to each of you?” There wasn’t even a heartbeat between the end of Antoine’s question and the moment when every single guy in the room started running towards the handmade torn hole in the floor. No one doubted the strength of Mr. Alpha – they had seen what it could do, firsthand. They also had no intention of finding out what kind of damage a bear hug could do to their bodies. Even Jose, getting wrapped up in the moment and forgetting about Antoine’s earlier proposal, started running toward the hole. Seeing the wall so easily destroyed made him a little nervous about his new friend. Mr. Alpha quickly reached out and grabbed his intended sidekick at the back of his pants – lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing more than a toothpick. Jose’s legs kept pumping hard and it was clear the guy thought he was still traveling across the room even though he wasn’t moving. He finally stopped and looked up at the big man. “I didn’t mean you, Jose. I still want you as my sidekick, if you’ll have me.” The look of relief on Jose’s face definitely gave Antoine the answer he desired. It was quite clear that the little guy was still trying to grasp the full extent of the power his new friend possessed. It was not every day a superhero asks you to be his sidekick. What did you bring to the relationship to match his ability to fold a tank into something the size of a napkin or the strength it took to rip apart houses. Jose was still dangling in the air – held easily by the one hand of his big friend. That’s when they heard the sound of what could only be the motor of a plane being started. Antoine looked down at his friend and smiled. “Rubio is trying to escape. This ought to be good.”

Like I said before I don't HATE them, they can be pretty annoying. Examples follows, doing stunts that can destroy my neighborhood, cumming on my house, (They can cum as much as they want at will, remember that) and ruin whatever parties I host. But nothing can compare to the thing they try and do CONSTANTLY. Apparently they have this urge to try and cum on me. Key word: TRY. They always fail and each failure results to them trying more drastic measures. Plenty of times they caught me off guard, but I was still able to recover. But as kain carter says, desperate niggas do desperate nigga shit. They have grown their dicks as long as 5ft long, veiny as fuck just to try to cum on me, which I what I will NEVER ALLOW TO HAPPEN. Fucked up part is, the longer and harder and their cocks are, the more horny they become, and to those guys, especially cade, they can cum as much as 500 gallons and be able to shoot to the fucking moon. Now dont get it twisted, they dont do ALL the time, but this happens every other day. Now if Reece cums on my car on more time...

You find his slow, rhythmic breathing comforting. It had been a long, stressful day at work and lying there, being held in his arms was one of the best ways you found to recharge. He was always there for you, helping you breathe through the hard times. The two of you had been together for a while and he had always been your rock. Sometimes you feel like he is a better person than you. You felt like you were always taking, giving nothing in return and he was always there. You had decided it was your turn to give and it was something you knew he wanted, something he dreamed of. Your work as a pharmaceutical rep gives you a lot of advantages. You basically get a lot of over the counter medications for free and prescriptions aren’t that hard to get. You also get to be around a lot of clients testing new drugs, things that might not exactly be public knowledge. Work had been stressful today because you stole from a client. A large agricultural company looking for ways to grow their profits by growing their cattle. He’d always talked about his desire to be bigger, broader, hairier. You felt you could at least give him that. Tonight’s dinner contained the serum. You had thought about taking some for yourself but decided against it. He deserved everything the vial had contained. His chest rises and falls with each breath and as you lay with your head snuggled against his pec you begin to wonder how long before it started to take effect. It was a warm night so you both had decided against covers, which you didn’t mind. You liked admiring his body. He was taller than you but wouldn’t be considered tall at 5’10”. He was built broad to begin with and the muscle mass he had accumulated over the years only seemed to enhance that. He could grow a pretty full beard considering the rest of him only had a light dusting of hair besides his armpits and his crotch. He sported a fairly large endowment, growing to about 8.5” when he was fully erect. Someone you wonder how you were able to catch a man like him. Almost like you knew you were thinking about it, his cock began to stiffen. With each beat of his heart you could see it begin to swell, slowly swinging up towards his abdomen. It pulsed, fully erect, the skin across the head taut, seeming almost overly swollen. You begin to stroke it, wondering what he must be dreaming about, when you see it shudder and stretch up towards his navel. Your heart begins to beat a little faster, your own cock beginning to stiffen. This must be it. You watch as his cock swells and stretches, slowly creeping its way up his abs. You begin to get a little worried. If everything stays proportionate afterwards, he was going to be huge. His balls begin to stir and inflate, knocking against each other, fighting for room with his thighs. They bulge upwards and sag down, his sack stretching with their increasing size. His cock leaves a trail of precum up his abs, finally stopping near his chest. You feel his pec begin to push against your face, the skin stretches, his nipples slowly start pointing down. As his chest expands you can feel it slowly pushing you. You wrap your leg around him, stretching your arm across him and holding on to his other side, pressing yourself against him. You want to feel him grow. His neck thickens and you can see his adam’s apple become more prominent. His shoulders aid his chest in stretching across the bed, you feel his hand move down your arm as his arms lengthen. His fingers thicken, you watch the nails broaden, his knuckles bulge and swell. His hips begin to rise as his ass begins to grow. You watch as his toes stretch out and his feet broaden, you can see the tendons ripple. His calves balloon up and look almost comical until his thighs begin to grow to match them. His feet inch towards the edge of the bed until they slide off, then his ankles, then his shins. His abs are like bricks on his stomach and you can see the veins snaking their way up his torso. A prickle brings you back to his chest and you notice thick, dark hair beginning to spread across his pecs, his already hairy armpits becoming even bushier. The hair traveled down his abs to his crotch and then spread down his legs, even on to his toes. He moans slightly and arches his back, stretching as his body continues to spread out across the bed. You can feel your body begin to sink with him as his increasing weight makes him begin to sink into the mattress. You hear his massive feet hit the floor with an ample thud, his other arm rolling off the side of the bed and you hear his massive hand smack the carpet. You hadn’t realized he was such a heavy sleeper. His cock throbbed and you could see his balls jump. A hot, thick stream of cum came shooting out, coating his chest, splashing you in the face. You could hear him moan in a deep bass, hear the air escaping from him as his hips thrust in ecstasy. With a few final thrusts and one last groan he stopped. It was over but it had done a lot. You’re not the best at measurements but you knew he had to be pushing well past 7’. You couldn’t even begin to guess his weight. He fell back into his rhythmic breathing, his muscles bunching with each movement. You creep out of bed to go clean yourself off and grab a towel for him. You want him to be decent when he wakes up.

Ok, so... Shit I dont even know where to fuckingstart, this shits fucked up. Ok... Lemme do this then. My name is DeMarcus or Marcus or Marc however you want to call me. Lemme start off by saying I am a black male and live a normal life. I have a beautiful wife named Jacqueline or as i like to call her "Jacqui" and we live in the suburbs of LA. We live in the hills in a big mansion living the good life. I mean it would an even better life if we didnt live next to our neighbors we like to call them bitch ass Niggas, The 7 muscle bros... Or the big 7 or any other bullshit y'all can call them. Now lemme get my point clear, I dont necessarily HATE Them, in fact they are good friends but they can be quite annoying. And i mean ANNOYING. Now even though it's about a good 3-5 minute walking distance from our house to their house, still doesn't mean we are safe. I mean we could move to another mansion, BUT, they be coming clutch sometimes and all the other mansions are already bought. As i mentioned there are seven of them. The first one is Elliot, I guess the ringleader of the big 7. This man had long blond hair all the way to his shoulders, blue eyes and has a perfect smile. For some reason he's always smiling and the one time I've seen him with a straight face it wasn't pretty. Now he isnt always happy go lucky like spongebob but you get the idea. He's towards the more nicer person of the group which is good for the people he hangs around with. Next we have Devin. He's about 5'8" with short black curly hair. He's nice to most people he meets but there have been some occasions where he would look at somebody and automatically hate them. He got green eyes always wear a Rolex wherever he goes for some reason. Then we have Reece, the shortest one there and constantly gets Shit about it, but that doesn't stop his confidence. He's the calm one of the group no matter what happens. He has the classic school shooter or the brown "Bowl haircut" with freckles on his face. He also has gray eyes. Now he have Dominic. The overly arrogant one. Now we not talking bout vegeta pride, its much bigger than that. He has a car he's really proud of having and coming from a car guy I can't really cant blame him. Its a 2013 Mercedes C63 AMG. Anyway he's about 6'1" with short black hair and really prideful. But not all the time. Then we Luíz the Cuban boy. He's got once again short black hair (What's with this group and short black hair?) and has a tattoo on his chest on each pec LUIZ HERNANDEZ written in cursive on his pecs. With mixed skin he's more of the lady's man of the group always with some bitch with the spring break titties. Next we have Chase the gay one. Surprisingly you wouldn't have known if he was gay wothout somebody or him telling you. He doesn't have any gay accent or any gay clothing he just looks like a normal person. He has this time short Brown hair and is the tallest one in the group going in as 6'4" tall. He's more worried abiut the the way he looks than anything else except family, but hes constantly fixing his hair or re-ironing his shirt in public. (You're about to find out how) Last but not least we have Case. Cade is even more arrogant than Dominic is. How so? Because he is sex demon. Meaning he is always aroused and horny for some fucking reason... Having nutted 10 times in a span in 5 minutes he's still horny. It get bad when he see a girl he really thought was hot. He nutted nonstop in his pants at target for like 30 min straight. With a black g-eazy havin ass haircut and sex drive higher than a pornstar Cade is the one I dislike the most. Now you're probably wondering shy their called the the 7 muscle growing bros. We have an rare element that we call wishirite. Wishirite can Grant anyone 3 wishes to anyone who possesses it. Elliot came across this gem and got what he wished for. To be friends with other muscle friends and he got what he wanted. The big 7 have the ability to grow and shrink whatever muscle they flex. Bicep flex, bicep grows. But they can only go so far, they can't grow that much taller. Only by like 8 inches. Ok so... Remember how i said chase would iron his shirt in public, well it wasnt with an acrual iron. Its with his cock. Yeah you niggas heard me his fucking cock. They also have the ability to grow their cock to any proportion they want and can even grow their cock taller and thicker than them. They even have the ability to shoot anything out of their cock and other handful of abilities. Heating their cock and using it as an iron, cumming really fast and really hard being able to shoot anything our of their cock like bullets, water, rockets, a fucking kamehameha anything. I had to learn that the hard way when my car was a victim to their machine gun cocks one time. It was a 240 sx too. And since Cade is the sex demon, his cock and get much much bigger and veiny. When he nuts I swear that shit goes to the moon. I've seen his cum break ceilings, lights, his own clothes, etc. Its crazy they each have their favorite muscle too. Elliot is biceps, Luis is his pecs. Reece is his legs, Dominic is his abs, chase is his back, Devin doesn't have a favorite and Cade is to no one surprise his cock. Well they the big 7 have been introduced maybe Elliot will tell the story of how he got the wishirite gem but thats a story for another day

Ok, so... Shit I dont even know where to fuckingstart, this shits fucked up. Ok... Lemme do this then. My name is DeMarcus or Marcus or Marc however you want to call me. Lemme start off by saying I am a black male and live a normal life. I have a beautiful wife named Jacqueline or as i like to call her "Jacqui" and we live in the suburbs of LA. We live in the hills in a big mansion living the good life. I mean it would an even better life if we didnt live next to our neighbors we like to call them bitch ass Niggas, The 7 muscle bros... Or the big 7 or any other bullshit y'all can call them. Now lemme get my point clear, I dont necessarily HATE Them, in fact they are good friends but they can be quite annoying. And i mean ANNOYING. Now even though it's about a good 3-5 minute walking distance from our house to their house, still doesn't mean we are safe. I mean we could move to another mansion, BUT, they be coming clutch sometimes and all the other mansions are already bought. As i mentioned there are seven of them. The first one is Elliot, I guess the ringleader of the big 7. This man had long blond hair all the way to his shoulders, blue eyes and has a perfect smile. For some reason he's always smiling and the one time I've seen him with a straight face it wasn't pretty. Now he isnt always happy go lucky like spongebob but you get the idea. He's towards the more nicer person of the group which is good for the people he hangs around with. Next we have Devin. He's about 5'8" with short black curly hair. He's nice to most people he meets but there have been some occasions where he would look at somebody and automatically hate them. He got green eyes always wear a Rolex wherever he goes for some reason. Then we have Reece, the shortest one there and constantly gets Shit about it, but that doesn't stop his confidence. He's the calm one of the group no matter what happens. He has the classic school shooter or the brown "Bowl haircut" with freckles on his face. He also has gray eyes. Now he have Dominic. The overly arrogant one. Now we not talking bout vegeta pride, its much bigger than that. He has a car he's really proud of having and coming from a car guy I can't really cant blame him. Its a 2013 Mercedes C63 AMG. Anyway he's about 6'1" with short black hair and really prideful. But not all the time. Then we Luíz the Cuban boy. He's got once again short black hair (What's with this group and short black hair?) and has a tattoo on his chest on each pec LUIZ HERNANDEZ written in cursive on his pecs. With mixed skin he's more of the lady's man of the group always with some bitch with the spring break titties. Next we have Chase the gay one. Surprisingly you wouldn't have known if he was gay wothout somebody or him telling you. He doesn't have any gay accent or any gay clothing he just looks like a normal person. He has this time short Brown hair and is the tallest one in the group going in as 6'4" tall. He's more worried abiut the the way he looks than anything else except family, but hes constantly fixing his hair or re-ironing his shirt in public. (You're about to find out how) Last but not least we have Case. Cade is even more arrogant than Dominic is. How so? Because he is sex demon. Meaning he is always aroused and horny for some fucking reason... Having nutted 10 times in a span in 5 minutes he's still horny. It get bad when he see a girl he really thought was hot. He nutted nonstop in his pants at target for like 30 min straight. With a black g-eazy havin ass haircut and sex drive higher than a pornstar Cade is the one I dislike the most. Now you're probably wondering shy their called the the 7 muscle growing bros. We have an rare element that we call wishirite. Wishirite can Grant anyone 3 wishes to anyone who possesses it. Elliot came across this gem and got what he wished for. To be friends with other muscle friends and he got what he wanted. The big 7 have the ability to grow and shrink whatever muscle they flex. Bicep flex, bicep grows. But they can only go so far, they can't grow that much taller. Only by like 8 inches. Ok so... Remember how i said chase would iron his shirt in public, well it wasnt with an acrual iron. Its with his cock. Yeah you niggas heard me his fucking cock. They also have the ability to grow their cock to any proportion they want and can even grow their cock taller and thicker than them. They even have the ability to shoot anything out of their cock and other handful of abilities. Heating their cock and using it as an iron, cumming really fast and really hard being able to shoot anything our of their cock like bullets, water, rockets, a fucking kamehameha anything. I had to learn that the hard way when my car was a victim to their machine gun cocks one time. It was a 240 sx too. And since Cade is the sex demon, his cock and get much much bigger and veiny. When he nuts I swear that shit goes to the moon. I've seen his cum break ceilings, lights, his own clothes, etc. Its crazy they each have their favorite muscle too. Elliot is biceps, Luis is his pecs. Reece is his legs, Dominic is his abs, chase is his back, Devin doesn't have a favorite and Cade is to no one surprise his cock. Well they the big 7 have been introduced maybe Elliot will tell the story of how he got the wishirite gem but thats a story for another day

The following is a written adaptation of the story drawn by @SuperWaffle and has been agreed in advance with me to add the words. Each chapter will relate to each of the panels as drawn by him Chapter One "You wanted to see me, Prof?" As Tim, one of the college's best basketball players entered the lecture hall where the professor had asked to see him, he was instantly struck by the lack of a professor. "Prof? Are you hiding behind that desk again with another big fat F?" Tim wasn't the smartest person in the college, after all his scholarship was a sports scholarship, but he knew that unless his GPA went up a little his place was at risk, hence the belief that the prof was about to spring another F on him, but as he walked towards the desk at the front of the lecture hall, there was no one else there, save a flask full of a bright, green liquid. Tim looked at it for several moments pondering whether this was a wind up by Hank, his best friend and amateur lightweight bodybuilding champ for the last two years, or whether this was a test by the professor he had been asked to see. Thinking it was the latter and this was a test, he fell back on the little science knowledge he knew Chapter Two "I am examining a flask containing an unknown liquid" he declared, hoping that the professor was hiding and taking notes. "The liquid is bright green and therefore might contain copper. My first assessment is that this is a flask of copper chloride, the green colour being caused by a high concentration of negatively charged chlorine ions". As Tim continued to look at it, he hoped that his bluffing would pay off. He didn't know one end of an ion from the other, but knew the next thing was to smell the chemical so popping off the lid he smelled it. "OH, GOD!" he declared, "THAT IS RANK!" However, just seconds later, Tim froze in place. He could feel something happening to him. His entire body seemed to be unable to move, demonstrated by the lid of the bottle falling to the ground where it smashed. Slowly, the sensation eased, but as it did Tim looked at his hands. Was it his imagination or were they fractionally bigger than they had been a few seconds ago?

Prologue "Oh, Titan, how can I ever thank you?" "I followed your description of the fantasy you had when you proved yourself to be a Titan, Henri, I trust that it meets with your approval?" As Henri gave Porthos a massive kiss, Porthos thought "Yes, it meets with his approval!" As Henri broke off the embrace he looked at the dungeon and started to moan with desire. Exactly as in his fantasy, a few days previously, Porthos had made two rack like devices, each of them made to fit each other with manacles at the base for their ankles and wrists, along side helmets that resembled the type seen on barbarians in the depth of history. Henri's moans grew louder as he started to undress and with the command of "Buckle me, Titan" he was attached to the device that was his size. "When you absorb my strength" said Porthos, his breathing quickening, "break free of these restraints Henri, I beg you" "I will, Titan, if you promise me something in return. Take out the rock in the pocket of my breeches" As Porthos took out the grey coloured rock Henri added "Whilst you were winning the amulet, I was visited by a friend. I didn't know he was a friend at the time, but when I first met him, his eyes just screamed for help and pity, and as you know I would help anyone. Would you like to know what his name was?" Porthos nodded and Henri replied "Ganymede!" "A strange name?" asked Porthos "For a suitably strange lad, you see, Porthos" and with that Henri looked around, "and pray, never tell a living soul this, he was not of this world, he came from beyond the heavens" and with that Henri explained what happened. How having been given a telescope by the Captain in recognition of his qualification as a full blown Musketeer, he set it up that evening along with Aramis to explore the heavens, how he had spied an object, dubbed a meteorite by Aramis, land in the Bois de Boulogne, how, after seeking it to claim it for His Majesty, he came across the strange lad and how, he had ended up defeating an alien munity and been rewarded with the rock that the Titan was holding concluding his memories with "Porthos, Ganymede said that that rock would transfer a fraction of your strength into me, but as we will be using the amulet to do that I want you to transfer a fraction of my intelligence into you to make my fantasy complete. I become the Titan in mind and body and you become me in mind and body. Please, Porthos, I beg you, I have been dreaming about this every night for the last week, please, please, Porthos, I..." "What is our motto, lad" interrupted Porthos, "and our creed?" "All for one and one for all" replied Henri, his eyes closed "There is no need to ask, mon amis" came the reply as Porthos undressed and attaching the manacles to his ankles and then slamming his wrists into the restraints he smiled and with a proud voice declared "Amulet of Athelstan, your victims lie ready!" As the amulet started to glow, Pierre took a deep breath and announced "Dear Ganymede, I call upon your gift" and the rock next to the amulet also started to glow. As the glow brightened, both men started to breathe deeper and their weapons started to engorge, then looking at each other they roared their devices into action "GIVE THE TITAN'S STRENGTH TO THE LAD!" roared Porthos "GIVE THE TITAN MY INTELLIGENCE!" roared Henri Both amulet and rock sent out beams of energy that stimulated both men causing them to moan and groan in a combination of ecstasy and agony and as they did, they resisted the pain and pulled on their restraints, stimulating their organs even more so and as they did the beams became brighter and brighter until unable to stand the glare both men closed their eyes and as they did so they felt compelled to scream the same thing "TRANSFER!" and with that both men were knocked out cold. *** "Oh yes" moaned Henri as he raised his sword to the heavens, his powerful chest no longer burdened by his Musketeer uniform despite the King's emblem emblazoned on his breastplate, "if this is what it means to be the Ultimate form of a Musketeer, then, non, I never want to let it go!" "And neither do I mon amis" moaned Porthos in reply, in an outfit almost the same as Henri's save for the lack of a breastplate, making his pumped pecs easy pickings for Henri's mouth as he first kissed his lover and then started to suck on those five inch long nipples. Indeed it wasn't long before Porthos could barely speak being able to mumble "Ultimate of Titans" which seemed to do just as much for Henri as it did for him, as both men's weapons unloaded over each other causing them to moan in ecstasy As Henri opened his eyes, the moaning of his dream was the first sound he made, any dream that involved him and Porthos expressing their love for each other and their desire to become the biggest, strongest and most powerful men ever to walk the earth always made him moan as he became accustomed to the light the smile of his face grew so large it might have escaped for he was now in Porthos's quarters, just like last time. His body enhanced by the amulet and now able to pass himself off as Porthos where Porthos would now be able to pass himself off as Henri, but this time, thanks to Ganymede's gift instead of having a blank face when he was asked a question his would be the first hand to be raised as the tutor would ask "There is a detachment of Cardinal's guards, two kilometres from you, marching at ten kilometres an hour. You are four kilometres from headquarters and can run at eight kilometres an hour. Which happens first, you reach Headquarters or bash as any guardsmen as you like?" and with that he got out of bed. Stretching out his massive eight foot frame, the sense of power surging through him, he chuckled as he approached the mirror and with his eyes closed jumped in front of his and roared as he puffed out his chest as much as he could and would have moaned "The Titan is awake" if he hadn't opened his eyes and screamed in horror at what he saw. The reflection was that, not of Henri's familiar physiognomy expanded to look like Porthos, but Porthos himself. Patting his face in a panic he tried to reason what was happening and had a frightful thought. What if, instead of transferring a fraction of his intelligence to Porthos, as he had expected, Ganymede's gift had transferred all his intelligence to Porthos and as he looked in the mirror a sense of dread washed over him. His mind was now trapped in Porthos's body and that meant that Porthos's mind was trapped in Henri's body. Panicking, Henri made for the door and found it blocked by the Captain who chuckled "Who's been yanking on your weapon today, eh?" noting that Henri was still naked. As he let himself in, Henri dived back into the bed and covered himself up, an action that the Captain found strange and reassured him "Porthos, I have seen you naked hundreds of times before, once you have seen one weapon you have seen them all!" and with that sat down on the end of the bed and said "I'm sorry to say that you're needed in my office. The Duke's arrived and he is not a happy person!" "BUCKINGHAM?" exclaimed Henri wondering what manner of mess he was involved in now "No, Bavaria!" came the reply as the Captain explained that Duke Christopher had been prevented from attending the strongman contest that Porthos had won due to an internal dispute and felt that he was the strongest man to walk the earth and therefore had come to Paris to challenge Porthos, and of course, the Captain had accepted the challenge and therefore had come to ask "Would you mind if Henri acted as referee, after all his has such the perfect English accent on occasions, you would think he was English himself!" and with that chuckled. Henri didn't know what to think however the Captain took the slight shaking Henri exhibited as approval and said "Excellent, meet me at my office after lunch along with Henri and I'll explain what the challenges are!" and with that got up and said "Now, you can go and be a man!" as he let himself out. Instantly, Henri leapt out of bed, raced to the wardrobe where he flung the first things that he found on and less than a minute later was running like never before to his digs in an effort to try and get them back in their correct positions as soon as was possible, if not quicker. *** "Ah, Monsieur Porthos, to what does my master...Monsieur...Monsieur, is everything all right?" As Henri dashed past Francois, his manservant of the last three years, he barged into his room and gasped at the sight in front of him. There he was, sleeping completely naked, something he never did at all, rubbing his gently enlarging weapon moaning "Oh, oui, mon chere, to feel this body again, it is magnifique!" and with that he started to breathe deeply. Henri knew precisely what was going to happen next and so shooing Francois away asking him to "get an extra loaf of bread, I believe your master will need it" knelt down next to the quivering mass that was him. "Porthos, Porthos, wake up, mon chere!" whispered Henri but it was no good Porthos was too far gone. "Oui, Oui, Hercules, I hear you and wish to wrestle you" at which point he grabbed hold of Henri and threw him on top of him, then grabbing hold of his sides he started to force his weapon towards Henri's mouth, all the while Henri desperately trying to wake him up. Realising there was no option, Henri raised his hand and with a whispered "Forgive me, mon chere" delivered a slap across the face that was said to be so loud that every single husband in Paris instantly confessed their indiscretions to their loved ones. But it had the desired effect as Porthos opened his eyes and gasped in amazement at the sight before him and lowering his body to the ground listened as Henri babbled his explanation panting at the end of it. "Oh, Henri" replied Porthos, hugging his lover, "thank you, thank you for making my dream come true. I am some twenty five years your senior but when I was your age I wasn't anything like as strong as you are, now, I shall be able to make you even more powerful than me" and with that grabbed hold of his body's arm and giving it a squeeze moaned "Twenty six inches, mon chere, compared to your twenty two, imagine, imagine how much bigger you will become!" "If I survive that long!" replied Henri and explained about the Duke, as he did Porthos's eyes opened wide and he roared "I AM THE STRONGEST MAN AND NONE SHALL CHALLENGE ME!" and instantly reached for the amulet and rock and placing them both on him and Henri declared "Amulet, release us from your power" but nothing happened. Gesturing to Henri who added "Ganymede, mon amis, we need to be ourselves again" still nothing happened and the two lovers realised their dilemma. "Then, if the gods will it" said Henri, "I must defend your honour, mon chere, if you are as strong as you say you are, then this Duke will be no challenge" "But, Henri" replied Porthos, his voice quivering, "you do not know what the Duke is capable of" and recounted a tale he had heard of the Duke throwing a five hundred pound rock the length of his courtyard to which Henri replied "That doesn't sound difficult" before Porthos added that he had done that after running the length of his kingdom, some twenty six miles, in less than four hours and all without any food for the previous day. Henri's eyes widened as he realised the challenge he now faced but stood next to Porthos, unsheathed his sword, raised it high and declared "ONE FOR ALL, MON CHERE!" to which Porthos replied standing next to his lover and holding the sword, "AND ALL FOR ONE, MON CHERE!" and agreed to meet with the Captain that afternoon to formally accept the challenge. *** "Gentlemen" announced the Captain as Henri and Porthos stood to attention in front of the Captain's desk, "the Duke of Bavaria claims to be one of the strongest men in the world, I find this claim debatable at best, but his belief that his claim is valid has to be taken. He has given me a list of the feats of strength that he wishes you to be tested on, Porthos, and that Henri will judge upon, however, I have been told I cannot tell you that list unless both of you accept. Gentlemen, do you?" "AYE" both men announced "The first task will be to carry four objects from one end of the courtyard to the other, one after the other, with the winner being the person who does it the fastest, the second task will be hold two bags of rocks equal to one and half times the weight of the person holding it for as long as possible, the next task is to haul a wagon containing up to four people of your own choice ten times the length of the courtyard running to each end in-between, that will then be followed by holding two anvils off the ground against each other, the person who drops theirs first being deemed the loser" As Henri looked at Porthos with concern, he was pleased to hear the Captain say "After that test, there will be a pause for lunch which in itself will be a test, whoever can devour a full roast pig the fastest will gain an advantage in the next test. That test will be a test of both strength and power as you will have to swim from here to Notre Dame which is then followed by a run carrying the heaviest horse that we have on your backs. That is then followed by lifting an anvil as many times as you can and finally pulling yourselves up and down as many times as you can from the window of my office" "Sir" said Henri, raising a hand, "I make that eight tasks, what happens if I win four and he wins four!" "Then there will be a final challenge, a tug of war between the two of you, whoever pulls the other will be declared the winner!" As both Henri and Porthos looked at each other, Porthos could see the first signs of concern written on Henri's face but as he stepped forward he declared "I realise that I will have to be independent from now on, but wish permission to say something to the Titan" and as the Captain nodded he turned to his former body, placed his hands on his broad shoulders and said "Porthos, you have always been a true paragon of strength to me, I have complete confidence in you and want to know that even when I am being completely independent, this will still be supporting you" and with that he placed his hand on his chest to indicate his heart. Henri smiled in return and said "Thank you, mon amis, that means a lot coming from you" and with that announced in a loud voice "The Titan is really to face all challenges for the honour of His Majesty!"

“Of course, I want to get jacked like you. Are you kidding me? Look at those muscles, huge, iron, sculpted masses! They’re fucking awesome! And dude, 20 minutes ago, you lifted my car, my freaking car! Who wouldn’t want to be that fucking yoked, that fucking powerful? So, how’d you do it?” “Well,” Mitch said, grinning down at me, and giving those massive, juggernaut arms a little extra flex, “It all started last fall during the first week of school. All these organizations had tables set up outside on the quad to recruit new members. I wasn’t really sure I wanted to join anything, but I was bored, so, I thought I’d just look around. Just about every organization you ever heard of was there, everything from the Young Republicans to Greenpeace. “I didn’t see anything that made me want to rush over and sign up. But then in the far corner, just past the Flat Earth Society, I saw this table with these two huge dudes manning it. I mean they were way taller than anyone else there and their muscles were giant, chiseled boulders. I’d never seen anyone like them in real life. They looked a little intimidating so I wasn’t surprised no one was talking to them. But I felt… I don’t know… compelled to go over there. “They were representing an organization called the Cult of the Muscle Gods. And looking at them, well, I thought they looked like muscle gods themselves. And as I walked up, the looks they gave me, it was like they were trying to scare me away. But I went over anyway. “So, are you like a fitness club, or something?” I asked. “No,” the huge dude answered, “We are an organization dedicated to eliminating the plague of weak and puny men, like you.”” I almost waked away after that crack, but something kept me there; I couldn’t say exactly what. “You want to kill us?” I said. “No,” he laughed, “we want to cure you.” “Cure me?” I parroted. “Sure,” he said. “Rob and I used to be about your size, didn’t we Rob?” Rob nodded once, never breaking that intimidating scowl. “Then we found the muscle gods,” he continued “They helped us evolve into our true selves. And they can do the same for you.” He definitely had my interest. I mean, I’d always felt like I could be bigger, and these guys, well they were just massive. By this point, I had pretty much made up my mind that they were some kind of extreme bodybulding club. And even though I’d never gone in for anything like that before, I found myself signing up for their group. But before I did, they gave me a warning. It would be my only chance to sign up for the cult, and once I did, they would not allow me to back out of it. “Forced to get bigger,” I remember thinking. “That might be exactly what it would take for me to actually do it.” So, I signed. Then came the initiation trials. They were tough, a lot tougher than I could have ever imagined. I began to realize that these guys were dead serious about this shit and I wondered if maybe I hadn’t leaped before I looked. I don’t mind telling you there were days that if I could have backed out, I would have. But I got through it. Then, blindfolded, they took me to their main temple. They made me dress in this ceremonial robe, and it was at this point that it finally sank in: these guys were more than just an extreme bodybuilding club. Again, I got that feeling that I might be in over my head. They escorted me to the center of their temple and then the high priest came out. Holy crap! This was the biggest human being I’d ever seen-- or even heard of! He was well over 7 feet tall and all massive, sculpted muscle. I estimated one of his muscle pylon legs outweighed my entire body. He made me repeat some oaths about dedicating myself to getting bigger as well as to their core mission of bringing muscle and power to all men everywhere. He welcomed me into their brotherhood and suddenly I just started growing. It was the most intense sensation I’d ever experienced. My body was suddenly getting hard all over, swelling up, with iron-like, chiseled muscle. I felt my abs bulge into steely mounds, my shoulders expand into rocks, and my back widen into thick plates of rippling sinew. My biceps grew into, big, sculpted masses. I felt them straining against and then ripping right through the sleeves of that ceremonial robe, while my expanding pecs ripped right through the front. When it was done, I was probably about 2 inches taller and I’d put on about 30 pounds, all of it raw unadulterated muscle! I felt big and powerful, sensations I’d never experienced before, and I liked it. The ceremonial robe was in tatters and none of the clothes I had arrived in would fit me anymore. But they were prepared. They had clothes for me, just the right size. “Didn’t anyone noticed you’d gotten bigger,” I asked. “Not really,” said Mitch. “Well… my roommate kind of freaked, but that’s another story. “So are you ready,” he continued. “Do you want to commit to the cult, to getting bigger? Remember, once you do, there’s no turning back.” “What about those initiation trials you talked about?” I asked. “What were they?” “I can’t tell you that,” he said. “You mean I have to commit to these things without knowing what they are?” I asked. “Yup,” he said. “It’s the only way. Do you want to commit?” So, do you commit to doing what ever they ask you to, even before knowing what it is?

You’re really happy to see your friend… but what the fuck happened to him? He’s huge! He’s mammoth! He has to be about a foot taller and he’s bulging out all over with sculpted, rippling muscle, way more than he should have been able to put on in the 9 months since you last saw him. You have to know what happened. There’s a little beach front diner across the causeway and you suggest you guys go there to grab a bite and catch up. “I don’t do just “bites” anymore,” said Mitch. “But it’s just about time for my next meal, so I’m down.” Mitch got dropped off at the beach, but you have your car. So, you bundle all his beach stuff in the back. The diner has a no shirt, no shoes, no service policy, but you have a t-shirt and flip flops. Mitch has flip flops, but what he puts on as a shirt, you’re not sure qualifies. Obviously designed to showcase his ridiculous physique, the neck line of this thing drops all the way past his huge, striated pecs to the top row of his bulging abs. To say it had no sleeves would be an understatement. This thing had no sides. Not only were his massive, veiny arms and segmented shoulders fully exposed, but his broad back was displayed as well, protruding out the open sides. You mention your doubts to Mitch, but he just says, “Trust me, bro, no one is going to call me on it. Would you?” Looking at you friends huge sculpted, veiny arms, you decide you probably wouldn’t. But the change in Mitch’s attitude was startling. He had this kind of “I’ll go where I want to go and do what I want to do” arrogance about him. He never had that before. You get into the car, which seems to be a little bit of a squeeze for Mitch. You are amazed at how much of the front he takes up. As you’re driving across the causeway, you feel the unmistakable bumping of your tire going flat. You get out and open the trunk for the spare and suddenly remember you lost your jack last fall. Mitch just shrugs and tells you to go ahead and loosen the lug nuts. You protest you don’t have a jack, but he just says, “Don’t worry about it. I got you covered.” You loosen the lug nuts and as soon as you do, there’s a jerk and the rear of your car starts to rise up off the ground. Holy crap! Mitch is lifting the rear of your car. You could see he had huge, chiseled muscles now but how strong was he? You sit there, staring dumbfounded for a minute, before Mitch says, “Are you going to change the tire, or what? I mean I could probably hold this all day, but I’m getting kind of hungry.” Pulling yourself back to the here and now, you continue changing the tire. When you’re done, Mitch sets the car down and you tighten the lug nuts. You try and think of something to say, but you can’t and you’re just quiet all the way to the diner. Of course, as soon as you walk in the door, it’s pandemonium. The server takes one look at Mitch and drops the tray she’s carrying. A wide-eyed little kid, waiting for a table with his mother, can’t stop staring at him. And he’s not alone. All across the diner, heads are turning to stare at Mitch. And he just seems to be loving every second of it. The flustered red-faced server seats you right away, even though there were people waiting before you. You sit there dumbfounded as Mitch orders basically half the menu. The server turns around to leave without taking your order. You stop her and order your much more conservative lunch. And when she finally leaves, you ask Mitch the question that’s been on your mind since you first saw him on the beach. “So, what happened to you, bro? How’d you get so big? And I don’t mean just jacked; you’re like a foot taller, too!” “I know,” said Mitch, grinning and flexing one of his massive biceps, which you guess is easily 5 times the size of yours. “Best thing I ever did,” he said. “My life is so much better now than last summer, when I was weak and puny like you.” “What did you say?” you say, not liking Mitch’s attitude one bit. “Don’t get your Jockeys in a twist, bro,” said Mitch. “Just about everybody’s weak and puny next to me. That’s half the fun.” “But how…?” you ask. “I could tell you,” said Mitch, “but first you have to answer one question for me.” “What?” you say. “Why are you asking?” said Mitch. “Is it just curiosity, the mystery of it? Or are you interested in starting down the same path? Be certain you mean what you say, because, once I answer, there’ll be no going back. And you can’t ask me this question ever again. I’ll only answer this once. So, why are you asking?”

Continued from: Not really sure about what you're doing, you reach down and gently nudge the big dude on his huge, hard shoulder . His eyes fly open and before you can blink, he leaps up off the lounger and grabs you by your shoulder with an iron grip. Then, just as if you weighed nothing at all, he lifts you up off the ground by your shoulder and glares up at you. You struggle against him, but are completely powerless against, the incredible strength of that hugely muscled body. "Who the fuck do you think you're poking, little man!" he shouts. Then suddenly recognition breaks out on his face like the sun through a stormy sky. "Jared? Holy shit, dude! How the hell are you?" Suddenly, he pulls you into a bone crushing hug. You can feel his massive iron-hard arms digging into your back, while you're being slammed up against a torso that feels like it's made from rocks piled on top of each other. You're happy to see your friend, but at the same time confused about the changes in him. ...and there's a little pain involved, too. Finally, just when you think you ribs are going to start cracking, he sets you back down on the beach. What do you do now? Do you invite him back to your place to play video games and do your best not to mention that Mitch has somehow metamorphosed into a hugely muscled behemoth, and try to still have the summer you've been looking forward to? Do you suggest the two of you grab something to eat and then pump him for information on how he got so huge during the last 9 months? Or is this all too much for you. Do you need to go home for some alone time so you can process the startling change in your friend and figure out how you're going to deal with it?

You guys wanna try something? I have no idea how this going to turn out, but let's see what happens. Read the story snippet below and they chose what you think Jared, the main character, should do. Or feel free to propose your own option in the comments. Okay, here goes. About a year ago, you graduated from high school with your best friend, Mitch. You then had the best summer of your life, hanging with Mitch, playing video games, eating junk food, and endlessly discussing who was going to die in the next Avengers movie. You voted for Captain America. Mitch was positive it would be Thor. But like all things, last summer eventually came to an end. You both headed off to different schools in different parts of the country. Both of your school schedules proved a lot busier than you expected and you didn't have the time to talk, text, or skype that you thought you would. And a bad snow storm and a couple of missed flights meant you missed each other over the holidays too. But summer is back and you just got home. You realize Mitch must be back too. You try and call him but he doesn't pick up nor does he answer your texts. You decide to stop over and see him, but his brother tells you he's not there. He's gone down to the beach. "The beach?" you think. "That's weird. Mitch never goes to the beach." But you decide to grab your swimming trunks, go down there and find him. "The beach isn't that big," you think. "Should be pretty easy to track him down." But when you get there, you comb the whole place and you don't really see him. But just as you're getting ready to leave, you notice this massive guy asleep on his beach lounger. You do a double take. The face looks a lot like Mitch's, but the body... This dude is huge and yoked beyond belief. It couldn't possibly be Mitch... Or could it? It really did look like his face. What do you do? Do you wake him up to see if he's Mitch? Or do you go home and try calling your friend tomorrow? Vote on the poll page and we'll see where we go. Higher resolution versions of the images can be found here:

My Celtic Cross Tarot Reading I was walking around a Renaissance Faire one Sunday. I barely get any time off, and it seemed like a fun way to spend a day off. At least it would get my mind off of life. I reached a little tent as I walked down a trail, seemingly away from all of the festivities. It didn't even seem like it was part of the faire. Maybe one of the actors lived on site. I called hello a couple of times as I approached, with no response. I just wanted a quick peak inside before heading back. I got close and gently lifted the tent flap. You could hear a pin drop, I was being so quiet and not even breathing. Inside seemed dark, so I got closer. I could barely make out that a table was in there, but not much else. Still holding my breath, I got my head all of the way in, and then I heard the flap close behind me. In shock, I spun around. I was fully inside of the tent and it was lit by many candles. Turning back around, I saw a round table in the center of the room with various cabinets and supplies placed around the exterior. There was an incense stick giving off little wafts of smoke in the middle of the table. There was movement from the back room. Wait, there was a second part to the tent? Wait, wasn't this tent a lot smaller on the outside? Wait, how did I actually enter the tent? "How can Madame Tempest help you today?" A lady in a gypsy looking costume entered the room from the back. I must have looked completely dumbfounded. "Yes, yes. You are in my home, but nobody enters Madame Tempest's home without reason. I can sense that you are confused. But your confusion is not about why you are here. You are confused about your place in life. You are confused about your direction. Come, come. Sit at my table with me." She approached the round table and sat down, gesturing for me to do the same. I did so. "Let me see your hands." I placed my hands on the table. She took the left one and turned it over on to her own. She closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then, she went to my right hand and started tracing the lines in the palm. "Ah, I see now. Your life is not how it should be. You have great strength inside of you, but it does not come through. Others see you as weak and you have begun to agree. Madame Tempest thinks otherwise. Here, let me show you." She clapped her hands together and a deck of cards was in her left palm. None of this made sense, but I was just going with it. "Now, I will take reading. You must shuffle the cards and let your will infuse into them." She spread them out on to the table. "Now really make sure that the cards are mixed. They do not have a correct orientation. Right side up and up side down and both just as necessary to the reading." I mixed them up like I had seen poker dealers do before a game. I then pushed the cards together back into a deck. "Do you want to cut the cards?" I shock my head no. She nodded in approval and grabbed the deck. "This is called a Celtic Cross." She deal one face down and another perpendicular on top of it. She then dealt down, left, up and to the right of the original two cards. "These all represent your past, present and future. This will reveal a challenge you are facing with some reason drawn from your past." She then dealt four more cards in a line to the right side. "These cards will give you some insight into the challenge and what might affect it. Finally we will see what the outcome will be." I gestured at the cards for her to continue. She slid the first face down card out and placed it in front of me. "Present - Temperance in reverse... Not the best start to a reading. It indicates that you are currently being pulled in the extremes. Your life has lost its balance. Things may seem turbulent right now, but it may not be that way forever." She grins devilishly. "Obviously it will not stay turbulent into your future cards since we already drew temperance here." I nodded. She wasn't wrong. It is kind of strange though. I really do feel like my life is all over the place. Am I focusing on the right thing? Am I living my life the way I should be? The perpendicular card was then turned. "Immediate Challenge - The Magician... Since this card was on its side, there is no reverse. Your main goal will be yours for the taking. Make sure to take initiative and you will accomplish it. This is a very nice card to have as your challenge. Things seems messed up right now. But your challenge is to grab life by the horns and do what is best for you. If you accomplish that, you will have what you desire." That was weird. What is my main goal? "Distant Past - Justice in reverse. Your distant past has been plagued with other people affecting your life. You feel like your own decisions and actions have no meaning because you are constantly faced with other peoples consequences. This is probably what lead to you feeling the turbulence surrounding your life. It would certainly lead to temperance in reverse as your present card. Do not fret, as your own goals are now opening to you." She tapped on the Magician card. I really never have had control over my life. Why do I lend myself to others' whims all of the time. Being easy going is a curse. I watched as she flipped the next card. The devil??? Man, this keeps getting worse. "Recent Past, the cause for getting to this point - The Devil sounds like it is a bad card. However, it does not mean that Satan has been controlling you or some evil presence is here. All this means is that your main goal is being driven by you base desires, your animal instincts. You are not controlled by these instincts, instead you desire to follow them where they will lead you." I actually responded for the first time, "I do desire to have freedom. So my desire to be free and my past of having no control over my life is causing great conflict. That makes sense. But what is this goal that is supposed to bring my life into balance? Wouldn't getting balance be a goal?" She nodded thoughtfully. "I cannot claim to know what your base desires are. However, this next card may help you figure that out. This location on the Celtic Cross is the best outcome to the challenge. You got The Tower, reversed... The tower itself represents catastrophe and rebuilding, which would make sense for your situation. As in, everything falls apart from the turmoil but you can rebuild from that. Though, in reverse is has a different meaning. Through your challenge in obtaining your goal, you will be built up instead of falling apart. The best outcome will be that you come out stronger than you were before." I shrugged in acceptance. It still did not answer the question about my goal. But at least it does indicate that things will get better. "In your immediate future, we have The Wheel of Fortune in reverse... In general, the wheel means that sometimes things will go well and sometimes badly. In the end, karma will balance out. In reverse, karma will not balance out and you will be faced with good and bad changes. I am sorry, I know that is not what you wanted to hear. But let's move on to the next card because it should explain things a little bit better. Factors affecting situation..." I nodded. This one would start to get into the nitty gritty. "The Emperor is what will be affecting the challenge. The Emperor is a symbol of masculinity, authority and power. This means that someone in authority will have a big influence on your challenge. Perhaps a boss or a parent will help your reach your goals. Pay close attention to what those around you are saying. There may be an opening where they will no longer control your life and instead give you the reins." "Ah ok. Since the goal is unclear, I need to 'keep my enemies closer' as it were. They may be the ones causing turmoil, but they may also save me in the end." "Oh, there is a second card underneath. Strength in reverse. How odd. I never deal two cards in the same spot. But we mystics believe that when two cards are dealt, both have equal part in the story of your life. We are still on the factors affecting the situation. In reverse, strength refers to a weakened resolve. Your own inner strength will be low. This might be why you need to rely on the authority figure to help." I scoffed a little. These cards are basically telling me that I suck. Everyone else controls me. My own desires are squashed away. I am not even strong enough to accomplish my heart's desire - I need someone else to do it for me. "External influences - Wait, what? There are two cards here again. I believe these extra cards may have more meaning that we think. It is no coincidence that you have gotten two cards on both the factors affecting the outcome and the external influences outside of your control. This leads me to think there will be a duality to the situation. Outside authority versus your own will. Or in this case," she flipped both cards. "The Sun and The Moon. This is a very mixed message. This is a mixture of your fears and positivity, your dark impulses and upbeat attitude. It could also be a literal card definition - the factors influencing the situation would be the sun and the moon... Perhaps you need to focus on your sleep schedule. It might take some trial and error to find a better schedule than what you have right now." That actually made sense in a way. I have been wanting to go out to clubs more at night. Maybe I need to find a job with a later start time so that I could party late and sleep in afterwards. "Hopes and fears - Death in reverse. At least there is only one card this time." She noticed my eyes widen - I fear death? "Just like with the Devil card, this is not literal. In reverse it is more difficult to interpret, though. So your hopes would be that your journey will have convergence. You will not want things to keep changing. Your fear will be that you are at the end. Again, not at the end of your life. It would be that you are afraid you will not get a new beginning." I relaxed a little bit. That was somewhat comforting. Again, not liking the turmoil and change and want something more balanced. So my goal is to find balance in my life and someone above me will help. "Culmination/Final outcome - The World... This is literally the end of a journey. The journey will end in accomplishment and closure. Even though you face good and bad things," she indicated The Wheel of Fortune again, "the outcome will be the completion of the challenge." I smiled, "And all of it indicates that my challenge is to find balance in my life. That goal seems reachable." "Yes, I have full faith in you. Be weary of your surroundings. Start to move away from people that are controlling you and get closer to those (especially bosses) who want your life and work and anything else to be in harmony. Madame Tempest wishes you all the best in your journey. It seems like it will be exciting." I stood and gave her a little wave goodbye and turned around to leave the tent. I tripped on a stick, but managed to keep my balance. I wondered why there was a stick inside of the tent. I looked up towards Tempest to say something, but I was outside on the trail. When...? I stopped myself from asking any more questions and just quickly made my way back to the faire on the trail. The following day at work, I was not incredibly productive. That whole thing with the tent and the strange gypsy lady never left my mind. "My goal is to achieve balance. I need to distance myself from stress but keep some authority figured around for guidance." I was daydreaming and mumbling to myself. I glanced at the time and it was almost lunch. I shook myself out of it and groaned. I had nothing to show for my time so far. I needed to skip lunch and just focus on work. As the clock turned over to 12 noon, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I tried to cry out for help, but the agony prevented anything from escaping my lips. Tears were filling up in my eyes, and then it stopped. It felt like hours had passed, but the clock read 12:01. I just needed a quick walk and a drink of water to clear my head. The daydreaming must have been getting to me. The pain was completely gone, but I still had a lot of work to do. ============================ So do you think Madame Tempest was correct with her reading?

It's Cinco de Mayo time, so I'm re-posting a story I posted on this Forum several years ago. All of the participants are 18 years of age or older, and no sex is depicted. Enjoy! CINCO DE MAYO MUSCLE BY GLAMLEATHERPUNK A/K/A GLAMROCKCOWBOY (AUTHOR’S NOTE: In order to keep this story to a manageable length, I have kept the details about the history of Cinco de Mayo and its significance to the United States to the barest minimum. For more information on this subject, I invite the reader to consult Wikipedia, which has an excellent article giving full details. Enjoy!) It was Wednesday, May 3rd. 18-year-old Billy Masterson was busy at one of the terminals in the high school library, gathering information for a presentation he had been assigned to give to his speech class on Friday. He had just finished gathering the data he needed, and was working on the outline of his up-coming speech when he felt a massive but gentle hand on his shoulder. He paused and stretched for a moment, then looked up into the grinning, handsome face of his longtime best friend, Juan Ramirez. Juan and Billy had known each other since kindergarten. Their families owned neighboring horse ranches in a small town on the outskirts of Orange County, California. Juan’s sister, Rosita, who was now attending a private school, had been Billy’s girlfriend ever since the two had entered puberty. The two of them often double-dated with Juan and his long-time love, Ruby Johnson. Both youths were honor students, and champion cowboys besides. In addition, Juan had been into bodybuilding and powerlifting for a number of years, and he had a massive physique to prove it. Billy had tried going a similar route, but his body had utterly refused to respond. An examination by a sports medicine clinic had disclosed a high level of myostatin in Billy’s genetic makeup—so high, in fact, as to prevent his body from muscling up to any significant degree. As a result, despite the protests of the other cowboys, the rodeo team coach had arrogantly dismissed Billy from the team. The other cowboys had promptly withdrawn from the team in protest, and the coach had thereupon disbanded the rodeo program altogether. His arrogant remarks about Billy, his fellow cowhands, and the rodeo program had so incensed the parents involved that the coach had been transferred to another school, and had been fired soon afterward. The rodeo program had thereupon been reactivated at the parents’ insistence. Billy, however, had not been able to rejoin the team. An auto accident involving both of his parents, whose car had been rammed head-on by a drunk driver, followed by months of rehabilitation and therapy, had forced Billy to give up all after-school activities of any kind. Billy had taken on the role of the “man of the house,” taking care of his parents, and running the ranch as best he could. While his parents were now finally up and about again, Billy had been unable to avoid having to sell off most of the horses simply to keep the family afloat financially. One reason for this had been a continuing battle with the family’s insurance agent on a variety of issues regarding what was and was not covered under the family’s policy. As a result, his parents’ hospital bills had continued to mount, and the hospital’s collection agency was putting increasing pressure on the family despite their best efforts. As a result, although Billy had not mentioned it to anyone, he knew that, barring a miracle, his parents might well have to sell the ranch altogether, and even then, they might still be facing involuntary bankruptcy with-in a matter of months. “So whassup, amigo?” Juan inquired, as Billy rose and went over to retrieve a hard copy of the outline he had just completed. “Just working on my speech for this Friday,” Billy answered. “It’s a short history of Cinco de Mayo.” “Oh, kewl!” Juan gushed, his face lighting up even brighter. “That reminds me—my family and I will be having a HUGE Cinco de Mayo celebration at our place after school lets out on Friday. You’ll be there, won’t you? Rosie especially would love to see you!” Billy sighed sadly. Normally, he would not have hesitated to join in the festivities, especially since the Ramirez family had striven repeatedly to help the Mastersons in any way they could while Billy’s parents recovered from their injuries. Given their current financial situation, however, Billy simply did not feel as though he had any right or reason to celebrate much of anything these days. At that moment, the bell rang, signaling the end of classes for the day. Juan and Billy went to their lockers, put up their books, and retrieved their cowboy hats as they prepared to head home. Juan was quick to notice Billy’s depressed demeanor. His face showed his concern as the two youths headed for the parking lot, where they would get into Juan’s luxury pickup truck and ride home together. Then, suddenly, Billy sat down at one of the school’s picnic tables adjacent to the parking lot, laid his head on his arms, and simply broke down and wept, unable to hold back his frustration a minute longer. Juan, astonished and horrified at his friend’s emotional paroxysm, instantly sat down beside his best bud, putting a hugely-muscled arm around Billy’s slender shoulders. Wisely, he made no attempt to question his best friend for the moment, realizing that it would be better to let Billy ventilate his emotion first. Instead, he pulled Billy close and gently rubbed his back and shoulders, “It’s okay, Billy-bro’,” he murmured, referring to Billy by an old pet name, “it’s okay! Go ahead and cry, babe—don’t be ashamed of it! Let it out, Billy-bro’--let it all out!” The young Latino giant then kissed his best friend on the cheek. Billy responded by actually climbing into his best friend’s lap and continued to weep. Juan kissed him again, and tenderly rocked his best friend from side to side, unashamedly cuddling him, as he continued to gently rub Billy’s back. When at last it appeared that Billy was beginning to regain his composure, Juan gently inquired, “What is it, Billy? What’s wrong?” “It’s nothing you can do anything about, I'm afraid,” Billy replied in an almost croaking voice as he wiped his eyes. “How can you be sure of that if you don’t tell me?” Juan gently pleaded. “Please, mi amigo—we’ve been best friends for a dozen years now! You know my family and I will do anything we can to help you and your family out! If I can’t help you, then maybe someone else in my family can! So, come on, Billy-bro’--tell me all about it, please!” Reluctantly at first, Billy finally managed to choke out an explanation of his family’s plight. Juan’s mouth fell open, and his brown face actually went white with shock as he processed what his best bud was telling him. Then the young Latino’s expression turned stern and hard, his black eyes flashing with volcanic fury, and even more so when Billy concluded his tale of woe by telling of how the hospital collection agent had boasted that he was going to ruin Billy’s parents before it was all over. “We’ll just see about that!” Juan cried angrily. “Come on, Billy-bro—we’re gonna talk to my folks about this!” So saying, the two teens got into Juan’s pickup truck, and drove straight to his parents’ offices. The two elder Ramirezes were attorneys by profession, and were both well-respected in the community. They were just getting ready to leave the office and head home for the day when the two youths arrived. At Juan's urgent request, however, they promptly went back inside. They were both stunned to learn of their next-door neighbors’ financial difficulties. Alejandro Ramirez was a handsome, well-built man of 40, who seldom indulged in profanity. On hearing of the hospital collection agent’s arrogant boast that he intended to ruin the Mastersons, however, he angrily slammed his fist on his desk and erupted like the famous Paricutin volcano in some of the vilest language either of the boys had ever heard. “If that meshugginah cucaracha thinks he’s going to get away with that,” he concluded, “he’s plumb loco!” For her part, Maria Ramirez, a still-curvaceous woman of 35, had an expression on her face that was ominous in the extreme. While her language was by no means as profane as her husband’s, it was nevertheless quite deadly as she expressed her opinion of those who had so arrogantly threatened her family's neighbors and best friends. So much so, in fact, that Billy actually found himself shrinking back in terror. Seeing this, however, both Maria and Alejandro went to great lengths to comfort and reassure Billy. As the foursome headed out the office door together, Alejandro assured him that they would take up the family’s case immediately, and would do all they could to help correct the situation. At Juan’s suggestion, they all stopped off at the Mastersons’ ranch. Billy’s parents were understandably reluctant to accept the legal assistance the Ramirezes offered, but after tearful pleas from both Juan and Billy, they finally accepted. The two families thereupon discussed the Mastersons’ situation in more de-tail, providing the elder Ramirezes the information they needed to investigate whatever legal remedies might be available. To formally empower Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez to represent them, Mr. and Mrs. Masterson paid the Ramirezes a token retainer fee of $1.00. As the Ramirezes prepared to take their leave of their newest clients, Juan put his brawny hands firmly on his best bud’s slender shoulders. “Now, no excuses!” he told Billy firmly. “I want you over at our place for our Cinco de Mayo party after school lets out on Friday! Okay?” “Okay!” Billy replied, as the two youths exchanged a warm hug, kissing each other on the cheek as well. For the first time since his parents’ accident, Billy truly felt able to relax. He slept like a log that night, and awoke the next morning filled with more energy and optimism than he had felt in a long, long time. When Juan picked Billy up to go to school, Billy was astonished to see that his best friend was dressed in a full charro outfit, including a huge, lavishly-embroidered sombrero. “Aren’t you jumping the gun a little bit?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at Juan. “Not really,” his best bud replied with a wicked grin. “It’s the day before Cinco de Mayo, so a lot of my Latino compadres will be dressed up in anticipation. And by the way,” he added, his grin becoming even more wicked, “I brought along an extra charro out-fit for you to wear today—everything from hat to boots—and I will NOT take no for an answer! You savvy?” Billy had been friends with Juan far too long to even think of arguing with him. Holding up his hands in surrender, he said, “Okay, mi amigo, okay!” He chuckled and shook his head. Juan knew that secretly Billy had always admired the flash and extravagance of the charro or “gentleman cowboy” look. Now, with his best bud preparing to give a speech on the history of Cinco de Mayo, Juan was determined to have Billy looking the part—to the very uttermost! The two youths arrived at school early enough to be able to use one of the dressing rooms next to the school auditorium for Billy to try on his new outfit. He stared in awe at the suit, which was in a deep, rich, royal purple blend of wool and polyester, heavily embroidered in gold and silver thread, with gold and silver buttons, known as galas or botonaduras, down the outseams of the legs. A white shirt in heavy silk satin, a purple satin bow tie, also embroidered in gold and silver, a pair of black patent leather ankle boots with 2-inch heels, a 2-inch wide, custom-made, embroidered pita belt, and a huge, heavily-embroidered sombrero with an incredible 24-inch brim, completed the ensemble. At Juan’s insistence, Billy, who had learned to apply and wear makeup in his speech and drama classes, stripped down to his underwear, then applied just enough eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, and lipstick to achieve a smoky, sultry, yet regal effect, complete with touches of silver and gold to match the embroidery colors in the suit. Then, in accordance with the tradition that a real cowboy always dresses from the top down, he put on the sombrero, the shirt and bow tie, the pants and belt, the boots, and finally the vest and jacket. He then preened himself before the 3-way mirror that stood next to the dres-sing table. From the moment he began putting on his makeup, Billy began to experience a feeling of growing strength, power, confidence, and well-being such as he had never known before. By the time he had finished dressing, Billy actually felt as pumped up as though he had just completed a major workout. He was grinning from ear to ear as he turned around and looked himself over. The carefully-applied makeup had enhanced and improved his already handsome appearance to the point where some would have referred to him as “a glam-rock charro pretty boy.” Juan whistled in amazement as he beheld his best friend's transformed appearance. “Ai carramba!” he exclaimed in admiration. “Dude, you look like a super-charro—like Mexican royalty!” “I feel like it in this outfit!” Billy replied with a deep, rich, throaty laugh filled with excitement and exultation. He then actually did a most muscular pose. As if in direct response, his body seemed to fill out the suit, as it al-so radiated strength, power and confidence. Before either youth could comment any further, however, the bell rang to signal the start of classes for the day. Billy then transferred his other clothes to a small laundry bag, which he then put in his locker after getting out his schoolbooks. His face was radiant with exuberance as he and Juan went to their first-period homeroom. From the moment they stepped out into the hallway from the dressing room, Billy and Juan were both showered with compliments and appreciative wolf whistles. Even the school’s most hard-core cowboys and rednecks complimented the two youths on their outfits and appearance. As they moved from one class to another, both boys were repeatedly kissed by their female classmates in the hallways. Not sur-prisingly, Billy and Juan were both on the verge of an orgasm by the time they got to their P.E. class. In addition, Billy’s muscles seemed to be filling out and expanding constantly throughout the day. When the two young charros finally changed into their gym clothes, they and their classmates were all stunned. Both boys’ physiques had in fact grown significantly larger, but Billy’s muscles appeared to have literally doubled in size. Despite this, both their charro suits and their gym clothes accommodated their expanding musculature with ease. The two youths shook their heads in amazement as they headed for the weight room. As he moved from one station in the weight room to another, Billy felt as though every muscle in his body was being pumped and stretched virtually to the bursting point. Even his gonads felt as though they were steadily growing bigger, more powerful, more potent, and more virile. Billy’s hair was grow-ing as well—longer, thicker, richer, fuller, softer, and shinier. In fact, by the time Billy finished his workout, his chocolate brown tresses had actually morphed into a huge mass of the biggest, brawniest-looking curls he had ever set his eyes on—and he loved it! Juan was agog at his best bud’s progress as he went through his own workout. By the time both boys had finished their workouts, Juan was pumped up bigger than he had ever been before, while Billy’s muscles had grown beyond their previous size by a full 25%! Furthermore, Juan’s own straight, jet-black hair had also grown considerably longer. In fact, from being at the top of his collar at the start of the day, it was now fully down to the bottom of his massive young shoulders, which had increased in size and width beyond anything even he had ever dreamed of—and when he flexed his biceps, their peaks actually came up to the tops of his earlobes! As might be expected, Billy, Juan, and all of their classmates—especially the ones from the rodeo team—were going wild with delight as the two young charros headed for the showers. Even as they washed themselves, Billy and Juan simply could not keep from flexing and pumping in front of each other, let-ting out screams of delight, as every pose seemed to make them both grow bigger—and BIGGER—AND B-I-G-G-E-R! In fact, by the time the two youths managed to dry themselves off, Billy was actually as big and massive and full of power as Juan himself! Billy was actually hesitant as he prepared to open up his locker and change back into his charro suit. “As—as big as I am now,” he told Juan, “I’m actually wondering if my outfit will even come close to fitting me!” Juan chuckled and answered, “Same here, Billy-bro’! The way this day’s been going, though, I’ll bet you that our charro suits will not only fit us, but they’ll both be richer and flashier and more glam-rocking gorgeous than they were before!” Juan’s prediction turned out to be squarely on target. As the two young giants changed back into their charro suits, they found that the suits fit them with ease, flattering their newly enlarged physiques to the uttermost, yet with room for further growth. Furthermore, both suits were significantly more lavish and extravagant than before, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight with reflections from numerous sequins in every color of the rainbow. The other students went wild over the appearance of the two teen super-charros, who received even more kisses from the girls than before—and were more than happy to return them! Once again, Billy went to the library for study hall, where he completed work on his presentation for the next day. Then, with permission from the study hall teacher, the two youths went to the school’s music library, which was located between the choir and band classrooms. Billy spent several minutes searching in the file cabinets containing band and orchestral music, until at last, with a cry of “Eure-ka!”, he pulled out a conductor’s score for a work entitled, “Night in Mexico,” by an American com-poser named Paul Creston. Billy then had a quick discussion with the school’s band and orchestra teacher, who gladly allowed him to borrow the score. As they headed for the school’s executive offices, Juan inquired, “So what have you got in mind, Maestro?” Billy then reminded his best friend that their school was one of the few public schools in California that was equipped with a concert organ. Like his father, Billy was a trained organist. “I’m going to see if our speech teacher will allow me to do my presentation on Cinco de May-o in the auditorium, and wind it up by playing this piece on the organ,” he concluded. “Oh, kewl!” the young Latino gushed. The speech teacher, however, referred the two youths to their school's Executive Principal, as required by their local School Board. The Executive Principal was more than happy to grant permission for Billy to perform on the organ for the occasion. Although it had not been used in more than a year, it was still in good condition, and had just been cleaned and tuned in preparation for the school’s graduation exercises, which were just over a month away. “In fact,” the Principal suggested, “since we’re going to hold a school assembly about Cinco de Mayo tomorrow, why not check with your speech teacher about incorporating your presentation into the program? A performance of a piece like ‘Night in Mexico’ would be a perfect way to wind up the assembly!” Billy and Juan’s speech teacher was more than happy to agree to Billy’s proposal. As the two youths headed for the school auditorium, the final bell sounded, signaling the end of classes for the day. This was a welcome development, since it would allow Billy to practice the piece without being disturbed, and would allow his performance the following day to be a complete surprise to the other students—hopefully, a welcome one! Billy’s teenaged heart was pounding with excitement as the big organ console was brought out from under the stage and moved into playing position. For his part, Juan was only too happy to act as Billy’s console assistant, turning pages for him and helping his best friend to set the organ’s controls for the upcoming performance. Even as they did so, both boys’ muscles were swelling with even greater power and strength, while their hair and their costumes became even more beautiful, more lavish, and more glamorous. It was after 5:00 that afternoon when, having completed their preparations, the two teen charros re-turned the organ console to its storage bay under the stage, retrieved Billy’s street clothes, and headed home. As they drove, Juan, who had been waiting for just such an opportunity, spoke up. “First of all, Babe, in case you haven’t already guessed, that outfit is yours to keep—in fact, I had it custom-made just for you as a graduation present.” He paused for a minute, then continued, “When it was first delivered to me, I asked our family priest to ask a special blessing on it, especially after all you and your family have been through these past few months.” He took a deep breath, swelling his already huge chest still further, then concluded with a grin, “I think you’ll agree that my family’s prayers have been answered—and with compound interest!” “I’ll say they have!” Billy gushed, as they turned into the Mastersons’ driveway. As Juan brought his pickup truck to a stop in front of the ranch house, the two youths were surprised to see the car belong-ing to Juan’s parents was once more parked in front as well. “Could they have gotten some results al-ready?” Billy wondered aloud, as they exited the truck. “My parents never waste time, dude—and all the more so in a case like this!” Juan replied, a wicked grin lighting up his now super-handsome face. Before going in, however, Billy threw his now-gigantic arms around his best friend and literally covered his face with kisses. Then, his brown eyes looking deep into Juan’s black ones, Billy simply said, “I love you, Juan!” His own eyes aglow, Juan replied, “I love you, too, Billy! Please don’t ever doubt that!” “Never, Babe,” Billy gushed, as the two young giants cuddled each other, “never, EVER!” It was several moments before the two of them regained their composure and went inside, where they found their parents deep in conversation. The elder Mastersons and Ramirezes were all astounded at the incredible enhancements in their sons' appearance—Billy’s especially! The four parents shook their heads in wonder as the two youths explained the day's events. They were greatly excited at the news of Billy’s impending performance the next day. “Now let us give you some news!” Alejandro Ramirez said. He jubilantly reported that the problems with the Mastersons’ insurance company had been completely resolved, and so had the problems with the hospital’s collection agency. An investigation of the agents involved had revealed that the two of them were in cahoots, and had forged or altered many of the documents involved in the case, in a plot to steal the Mastersons’ property. The motive for their actions lay in the fact that the hospital collections agent was a former suitor of Billy’s mother, and had long wanted revenge on her for rejecting him in favor of Billy’s father. His brother-in-law was the insurance adjuster who had been assigned the Masterson file by the insurance company, and had immediately joined in the plot to ruin the family. On discovering these facts, the Ramirezes had promptly notified both the hospital and the insurance company, as well as the local District Attorney. The two conspirators had promptly been arrested, and were now being held without bond on a variety of state and Federal charges, including forgery, embezzlement, and misappropriation of contract payments. The Mastersons’ accounts with both the hospital and the insurance company were now being audited, but both the hospital and the insurance company officials had given assurances that all of the disputed expenses would be taken care of, and that no fur-ther collection efforts would be made. In addition, the Ramirezes had filed suit against the collection agency for its unethical business practices. In turn, the agency’s contract with the hospital had been summarily terminated; the agency was itself now under investigation, and would most likely be perma-nently shut down as a result. “It will take a little while,” Maria smilingly concluded, “but in all probability, you folks will come out of all of this in better financial shape than you have ever been!” “And in addition,” Alejandro put in, “we’ve also found out that the people who bought your horses were in cahoots with these two jokers. They’ve also been arrested, and their purchases have been declared null and void by the courts. Your horses should be returned to you in the next few days!” “Will we have to return the money they paid us?” Billy asked. Alejandro shook his head. “As I said, the purchases were declared null and void by the courts. The judge presiding over the case specifically stated that you folks were under no obligation to pay back a single penny, because the purchases were part of a criminal conspiracy. So you folks are out from under your debts completely!” Billy and Juan whooped with joy and hugged each other hard. Now Billy would have all the more reason to celebrate Cinco de Mayo with his Mexican friends the next day. With that, the Ramirezes took their leave for the evening. As he was getting ready to go out the front door, however, Juan whispered in his best bud’s ear, “You be sure and wear that charro suit again tomorrow—you got that?” “Got it!” Billy whispered back with a radiant grin, as the two young giants kissed each other on the cheek before parting for the night. The Fifth of May dawned brighter and clearer than any previous Cinco de Mayo Billy could remember. After showering, shaving, and putting on his makeup, Billy stood in front of the three-way mirror in his bedroom and went into a series of muscle poses. Sure enough, Billy realized, he was even bigger and brawnier than he had been the night before. His hair was also bigger—in fact, it just barely fit inside his sombrero as he began to dress! When he had finally completed donning his outfit, the young charro preened himself in front of the mirror for a few moments. Sure enough, just as it had the day before, his charro suit had somehow grown to accommodate his still-growing physique, and was even more lavish than it had been the night before. In place of the sequins, the entire suit was now festooned with crystals in every color of the rainbow, sending out a shower of multi-colored sparks in the bright morning sunlight. The coat and pants were now lined with rich, heavy gold satin, while the shirt had transformed into the richest white satin brocade he had ever seen. Juan had been right, he decided—the suit really did make him look like charro royalty. Billy had just barely finished eating a huge breakfast when he heard a car horn tooting outside. Hastily kissing his parents goodbye, he ran to the front door—only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of the most extravagant mega-stretch limousine he had ever seen anywhere! Juan was laughing hysterically as his best bud slowly made his way out the door and over to the limo. “This is a Cinco de Mayo present!” he explained, kissing his best bud on the cheek for good measure. Needless to say, Billy promptly kissed Juan on the cheek and gave him a huge hug. They then boarded the limo for the 30-minute drive to school. The school day that followed was a triumph for both boys in every respect. As in Billy’s case, Juan was noticeably bigger and brawnier than he had been the night before, and his charro suit was even larger, richer, and more extravagant. It was no wonder, then, that the two teen super-charros were both mobbed like rock stars when they entered the building, and at every change of classes as well. Nor was it any wonder that both boys received and returned so many kisses that they were in a testosterone haze throughout the entire school day! Finally—you guessed it—both Juan and Billy, as well as their outfits, continued to grow larger, richer, and more extravagantly glamorous all the day long. Because of the special presentation he was scheduled to give, Billy (and Juan, at Billy’s request) were both excused from both speech and P.E. classes that day. Instead, with the assistance of the school's music teachers, the two boys brought the organ console up from its storage area and onto the stage. They were relieved to find that the controls they had set so carefully the previous day had not been disturbed. This gave Billy the opportunity to set the organ up for one additional composition—the “Variations on America” by American composer Charles Ives. Billy explained to Juan that Ives had been only 16 when he had first performed the piece on July 4, 1891, and its humorous character was therefore amply suited to a high school audience, who might otherwise become bored during the assembly. Juan had heard a recording of the piece before, and he grinned wickedly as he remembered its hilarious sounds. He could see what his best bud had in mind, and he therefore looked forward all the more eagerly to the upcoming assembly. The assembly was everything either Billy or Juan could have wished for. After some opening remarks by the Executive Principal, Billy gave his history of Cinco de Mayo, and explained why it is in fact significant to the history of the United States as well as Mexico. In addition, he successfully answered several questions from members of the audience. The school's history teacher then rounded out the speaking part of the presentation, warmly commending Billy for his efforts as he did so. The students warmly applauded in appreciation. At this point, the Executive Principal returned to the podium. The audience was both surprised and intrigued to hear of the impending musical portion of the program. They warmly applauded Billy as he now took command of the program. As he seated himself at the big four-manual-and-pedal console, the young super-charro pointed out that Cinco de Mayo was and is a celebration of freedom and liberty for both Mexico and the United States. Such being the case, Billy explained, it was only fitting and proper to include an appropriate musical selection from each country to round out the assembly. The audience enthusiastically murmured its agreement. His first selection was the Ives “Variations on America.” When Billy pointed out that Ives had been only 16 when he first performed and then wrote down the piece, there was scattered but enthusiastic applause. As his performance of the piece got under the way, the audience chuckled at the appropriate moments. Their chuckles progressed to outright laughter and guffaws as the piece progressed, and all the more so as Billy concluded the work by including a loud, raucous “AH-OO-OO-OO-OO-GAH” from the organ’s built-in Klaxon horn, then played the final chords on maximum full organ. Most of the students had never heard the school’s organ before, and they were clearly enchanted with its wide variety of sounds and musical effects. They jumped to their feet and roared their appreciation of the first selection. As he stood and bowed in response, a wicked twinkle came into Billy’s dark brown eyes. He then held up his hands for silence. Then, looking his best bud directly in the eye, he said, “That number should be retitled, ‘Juan Ramirez Rides Again!'” Juan instantly doubled over as the audience joined him in a bellow of hysterical laughter, followed by a roar of applause. The excitement in the room now rose to fever pitch as Billy announced his second and final selection, Paul Creston’s “Night in Mexico.” He briefly explained the unusual history behind the piece, then resumed his seat at the console and began to play. Numerous heads in the audience nodded in direct response to the music’s infectious rhythm as the piece proceeded. When Billy performed the fiery arpeggio that concluded the work on maximum full organ, the audience went simply wild with delight. They rightly gave Billy a standing ovation as he bowed before them. With that, the Executive Principal dismissed the assembly. As he did so, the final bell sounded to signal the end of the school day. Billy and Juan were both riding the proverbial Cloud Nine as they made their way through the crowd of students and headed for the side exit, where their limousine was waiting for them. Again, any number of their fellow students showered them with compliments and congratulations. Billy especially gave and received so many kisses (although Juan got his fair share as well!) that by the time the two young giants got into the limo he was again on the verge of an orgasm! Somehow, he successfully managed to channel the extra sexual energy into his outfit and his muscles. Juan did likewise, as they both grew to a height of well over seven feet. Their pectoral muscles came up to within a few inches of their chins, while their trapezius muscles swelled up to the tops of their ears! Even the muscles in their faces grew noticeably larger and more powerful, yet in a way that caused them both to become even more glamor-ous and gorgeous! Their already over-the-top, “super-charro” suits became even more so, as the multi-colored crystals became actual diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and other precious and semi-precious stones in every color of the rainbow! As if that weren’t enough, the fabric of the two suits transformed from its original wool-polyester blend into cloth-of-gold, while that of the shirts changed from an already lavish silk satin brocade into cloth-of-silver! Even their sombreros got into the act, as they grew from 24-inch to 36-inch brims to match the new size of their owners, and, like the suits, were covered with precious and semi-precious stones! The Cinco de Mayo party was already in full swing by the time the two now “mega-charros” pulled up to the Ramirezes’ front door. Billy was overjoyed to see Rosita, who had come home from her private school specifically for the occasion. Both he and Juan were pleasantly shocked to see that Rosita, a long-time “femuscle” girl, was now every bit as huge as they were! The kiss that Billy exchanged with his long-time love was overwhelming for both of them. It was at that moment that Billy made up his mind to ask Rosita to marry him, knowing full well that she would instantly say “yes.” Only a few feet away, Juan was exchanging a similar kiss with Ruby, who had also grown into a “mega-femuscle” girl. The party itself was everything that either Juan or Billy could have wished for, with food and drink and dancing lasting far into the night. When at last the party began to wind down, but before they parted for the night, Billy, Juan, Rosita and Ruby got down on their knees together, then joined hands and gave thanks for the miracles they had recently experienced. Recognizing the responsibility that came with such blessings, they prayed for God’s continuing help and guidance as they prepared to enter the adult world and spend the rest of their lives together.

Physical Potential Foundation, good afternoon. How may I help you? Yes, that's one of the companies we own. The Foundation assist in scheduling customers, in order to optimise their experience according to their particular goals and preferences. Have you received the paper copy of the form, or do you sign it online? I see, Sir, yes I am delighted to assist you. I am well aware of, that it might seem overwhelming, but it is for safety purposes and in order to ensure customer satisfaction. Location, yes? Well, you see, Sir, some of our customers prefer to stay at our centre located in the tropics, because of the weather: To enjoy the sun and have opportunities to take a bath in the ocean. We call it The Physique Pictorial Experience. Other customers prefer our northern centre – especially popular for stays during Christmas and New Year, and particularly popular among those who enjoy the company of bears, if you catch my drift? Our northern centre has several very authentic Finnish saunas, with easy access to snow and ice-covered bathing lakes. Our western centre is particularly popular among bikers, and our Atlantic one among punks, scallies and skinheads, but I can assure you, that there's a great deal of overlap. Many customers prefer to consult the centre closest to their home, in order to cut the travelling expenses short. Aha? Okey? Yes, I see. No, sir, there is nothing to be shy of. We have seen and heard anything by now. Yes, that particular part of the form is in place, to ensure satisfied customers. If you click on that link, you will see some photographs of former customers with blurred faces. So, to begin with, we have the first alternative, which we call FITLAD. It's highly popular, especially among our younger customers and among middle-aged professionals, who have to take their professional career in account. Then we have the second offer, HUNK, which is primarily targeted at young customers. Middle-aged and elderly customers usually prefer our third option, FOUNTAIN-OF-YOUTH, with practically the same effects as the HUNK option. Our remaining options are called BRUISER, SUPER-HERO and BULL, but if you click the links... You do? Yes? Yes, Sir. I see. If you change your mind, you still have the opportunity to select another option up to ten days before arrival. No, Sir. All visible employees are male, but we have many female employees behind the scenes, as it were. We want to create a certain type of ambience. Those boxes are there, to ensure that you doesn't feel embarrassed. Some customers are not easily embarrassed, and go for the second option, which include access to our nearby theme-park, Tom's Land. You have to sign, that you understand the legal nature of a 'no', and, if you tick any of the optional boxes, you will be given a colour-coded hanky-badge at your arrival, in order to prevent misunderstandings. The third option is legal at the geographical locations of the centres, yes, but customers who chose the third option are housed in other buildings than guests who go for option one or option two. We want to avoid embarrassment. Yes, prophylactics are mandatory. Yes, I understand, if the next set of boxes look unusual, but some of our customers want to add one or another of these specifics, to ensure that they are surrounded by the right crowd of fellow customers after The Treatment: Big feet, ginger and shot wound scars. Otherwise, you just tick 'Doesn't matter'. Yes. Yes, I see. No, Sir. We don't do racial profiling. It's an early decision from when the Foundation started the companies, and it still remain in force. Neither do we accept customers or employees younger than 21, for several reasons. You will meet employees and fellow customers of all and every ethnical background, everyone over the age of 21. The gyms? Each centre have five gyms. Two of these do not allow sex in the locker rooms. Non-embarrassment policy, again. The options are: Mainstream, Hardcore, Steamy locker, Fetish and Naked. Yes? Oh, I see, Sir. No. No reason to apologise, Sir. You are very welcome. Do you need more information about the restaurants? No? Online information enough? Very well, Sir. We take the utmost care to combine high nutritional value and an inviting masculine atmosphere, and you will be given the opportunity to plan each meal with our PTs and waiters. You will also be sent information about our work for charities: Preventing STD, projects against bullying, and scholarships for working-class teenagers and young men. Affluent customers like to donate, less affluent customers shall not feel any pressure to do so. Actually, we have stipends to make it easier for less-affluent customers to receive The Treatment. We cultivate a sort of brotherly spirit at the Foundation. Our founders took a certain interest in all these areas, and all our companies try to maintain and realise our founders' vision. No, it was a pleasure to help you. Your form will be processed within 24 hours, and we will give you optional dates to chose between within three days. Just remember, that the waiting-list is quite long, as you might expect. Yes. Yes. A pleasure. You are welcome. Bye. - - - Chapter one is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13680-the-company-chapter-1/

Preface Yes. It is another short story without continuation. There are other sorts of stories than multi-chapter ones. Yes. It is another one in an army setting, as so many other stories of mine. I repeat myself. Yes. It will be dark and dystopian, since this technology would always be abused, if it existed, which is a pity: I would have preferred a bright and colourful world of plucky, cheerful Captain Norways, Captain Luxembourgs and Captain Canadas full of high ideals. You have been warned. The Antaeus protocol He could feel the familiar scent of the hypertrophic solution. The odour made him think of wounds tended by iodine, swimming pools kept clean by calcium hypochlorite or chemistry lessons from school years, but, despite the similarities, the hypertrophic solution had a unique and unmistakeable scent of its own, and by now Sergeant Scott could recognise it anywhere. No one would say, that it smelled good, but, by now, Sergeant Scott had begun to associate it with Project Ultramarine, and most things with Project Ultramarine made him feel excited. Most things. He could vaguely recollect aspects of the Project, that didn't make him feel excited: The simulated interrogations, the simulated torture, the abrupt wake-ups at 3 or 4 a.m., but those things beside, he felt honoured, that he had been chosen for the Project, and he felt excited every time Doctor Ohm scheduled him for The Chamber. It was almost as something out of a comic book: Scott had joined the Royal Marines, been re-assigned to SAS, done well in things related to endurance, marksmanship, diving, HAHO/HALO and intelligence, but he was scrawny, and had weak results in anything related to heavy equipment. One of his superiors had re-assigned him to a top secret project: Project Ultramarine. Sergeant Scott had increased six inches in height and 55 lbs in weight – none of it bodyfat, all of it muscle mass. Scott felt like a different person, and he liked to be one of the chosen for the project. He wanted to serve in the armed forces in order to protect civilians, and Project Ultramarine increased his ability to perform his duty. Just a few weeks ago, he had marched with heavy equipment across the Cairngorm Mountains with a medium speed of 18 mph despite an intense snow storm. He turned around a corner. Brigadier Smythe-Fforbes had invited a handful of high-ranking officers, but it was not of Scott's concern to know any details. Need-to-know-basis. As usual. The scent of the hypertrophic solution was now mixed with whiffs of the dry air and scent left by anabolic radiation. Not exactly like the dentist's, not exactly like a tanning bed, but, despite the traces of hypertrophic steam, the air felt dryer than normal, and it tickled in his throat. He entered the Lab. Quite a few men sat on chairs or stood small-talking, when he entered. Doctor Ohm and Evans, the lab assistant, were the only civilians, and were easily recognisable in their white lab coats and black rubber gloves. He saluted and stood at attention. "Stand at ease, Sergeant!" Scott stared straightforward, but his enhanced senses had already identified an unusually high number of generals, admirals and marshals among the gathered men. For a few seconds his mind drifted – drifted back in time to his first exposure to The Chamber. Doctor Ohm had only exposed him to a low amount of anabolic radiation at that time, but, since it was his first bath in the hypertrophic solution, he hadn't known what to expect, and the experience had been overwhelming. The energy blast had hit him like a blow, and his wiry physique had began to fill out in a very pleasant way, that had taken him with surprise. He had become empowered, he had felt his strength increase, and the formula given to him 45 minutes before treatment had been released by the relentless onslaught of the anabolic radiation. After his first submersion in The Chamber, Doctor Ohm and Evans had permitted him three consecutive exposures, weeks of tests and evaluation apart. Doctor Ohm was reluctant to increase the formula, the concentration of the solution and the intensity of the radiation, and only increased them in small steps, after what seemed like careful consideration. Sometimes, Scott had noticed traces of impatience in Evans' face, but didn't give it much of a thought. He had also observed seemingly inactive lenses in the walls of the chamber – the radiation came from below and above. The Brigadier had been giving a speech, and Sergeant Scott's attention returned to the Lab. "And as you have read in the handouts, Gentlemen, the effect is very promising. Before we proceed, I will let you observe the test subject's present level of ability." The Brigadier waved in the direction of the weights. Scott had been told beforehand, that he should demonstrate his strength before the guests. Scott lay down on a bench, removed the barbell from the stand, and began to press the weight of 660 lbs up and down, up and down: Nine times. He could feel blood rush to his newly trained pecs. It felt good. He rose and stood at ease. The officers were whispering. The Brigadier continued. "As you may understand, this neglected branch of research is in need of further funding, and, as you have seen and read, the results are very promising. But this is not all. You will also witness the next step of the test subject's enhancement. Doctor Ohm? Mr. Evans? Sergeant Scott!" "Sir!" "Please proceed to The Chamber, Sergeant." "Sir! Yes, Sir!" Evans stood at the landing, and helped Scott with the facial breathing mask and the electrodes at his temples. Scott descended down the steps in the still empty chamber. Evans closed the lid. Normally, Scott would have undressed before entering the chamber, but, as he understood it, The Brigadier would give the guests a show, in order to ensure funding. The glass was too thick to allow him to hear all noises from outside, but his enhanced ability to listen would allow him to receive a few fragments, at least. The Brigadier gesticulated outside, and seemed to continue his speech. Doctor Ohm turned to the console, and Evans stood ready by the switches for the gas and the solution. A hissing sound began, and Scott eagerly inhaled. It had become better and better by each time, and he couldn't guess how much better it would be this time. A silent murmuring sound, he now was familiar with, grew in intensity, turning to a hum, and, as the murmur increased into a humming sound, Scott's anticipation increased, too: The anabolic radiation device was heating up, and he was soon going to be exposed to something, that would improve his endurance, increase his strength and enhance the size of his muscles. He swallowed. A whispering sound combined with a slight dizziness witnessed, that the formula was spreading in his body, and it was ready to react to the anabolic rays. The chamber felt dry, and the hair on his forearms bristled like the first time. Like the other times. Any second now. He swallowed. Unconsciously, he tensed his muscles in anticipation of the oncoming flow of energy, and his dick awoke inside his pants and camo trousers. He became acutely aware of his bodily extension: How his feet were enclosed by green socks and boots smelling of boot polish. His camo trousers smelled of moth repellant, and the olive-coloured t-shirt felt snug and tight on his hard and built torso. He could feel the pump in his pecs, from the bench press a few minutes earlier. The humming increased. So did his blood pressure. He wouldn't call it fright or fear, but each step of enhancement was a step into the unknown. He was the prototype. It hadn't been done before. No one could know with certainty, that each latest step was free from risk. Even if the experiments had turned successful in the past, the new factors introduced at this step could have unforeseen consequences. He ran the risk of bodily harm or even lethal effects, but on the other side, if it worked, the positive effects might be far beyond their expectations. He hoped, that Doctor Ohm knew what he did, but the almost exaggerated cautiousness, by which the scientist had proceeded during Project Ultramarine, comforted Sergeant Scott in his doubts: The Doctor didn't take any risks. Any second now. The breathing mask hissed. His throat felt dry. He swallowed. He could hear his pulse in his temples. His dick throbbed against the fabric of his pants. Evans had mentioned something about high testo levels. The Chamber hummed more loudly now. He braced himself. Then it erupted. The rays beamed through him, penetrating every muscle fibre in his body, and there was nothing he could do to protect him from it, had the effect been dangerous. But it felt good. He could feel his muscles react to the radiation, feeling more than pumped, sore and heavy and powerful at the same time, and he could feel the hem of the t-shirt slip out of his trousers, and slide upwards over his waist and belly-button, revealing his cobble-stone six-pack and his steel-hard obliques. He was overwhelmed by the sensation, and only absent-mindedly aware of the splashing sound of hypertrophic solution, that, with increasing force, began to fill the chamber. The t-shirt felt ever tighter, and the anabolic rays empowered him, more than ever before. With a yelp, he flexed his arms, and the short sleeves of his shirt ripped apart. With a moan, he did a crab, and the remaining fabric fell into the solution, tumbling around in the bubbling liquid. Though cargo trousers are supposed to be wide, the camo-patterned trouser legs could no longer contain his growing – nay, expanding! – quads and hamstrings, and the tatters, that once had been trouser-fabric was soon floating together with the former t-shirt. The Brigadier said something. The audience looked amazed. The level of the liquid rose quickly, and Scott felt relief, when he became fully surrounded by it, floating in the hypertrophic solution, that increased the effect of the anabolic rays tenfold, twentyfold. The boots felt uncomfortable around his feet. It had been a bad idea to keep them for propaganda purposes. They actually felt quite painful and too tight! And then his growing feet forced themselves out of the army boots, which sank to the bottom of The Chamber. Only his pants remained, and they were made of some sort of stretchy fabric, that felt comfortable against his bum and dick. Wet. Elastic. Expanding. Keeping his rod in place. Adapting. He was adapting, too. He floated with closed eyes in the warm solution, and he allowed his big, growing hands explore the slabs of power-beef he once had called his pecs. His shoulders were increasing too: Hard! Bulging! Still growing! Each one of the three shoulder muscles clearly separated – which also was true about the two heads of each biceps. He let his index finger touch his biceps and run along the separation between the two muscle heads. His palm squeezed his tensed biceps. It felt hard and good, approaching the size of a handball now. Size of a handball! His dick twitched. Size-of-a-handball-now! The liquid turned the thick glass into a mirror. He could watch his own reflection, and it amazed him, but the thick glass made it hard to hear what happened outside. He thought he could hear fragments of an argument. A few tumbling chairs? Raised voices? The Brigadier? One of the generals? Doctor Ohm? ".... No! Safety precautions..." And then gunfire. A few shouts. An unknown voice: "... proceed... ...increase... ...activate the Antaeus Protocol." "No! Not the Antaeus Protocol! Too dangerous! ... untested..." "... increase..." He felt alarmed for a few seconds, but then something happened. Something amazing. Something that defied all description. The electrodes used for programming of brainwave-pattern activated, and they activated with heightened intensity. It was not like any of the gradual and mild programming sessions he had experienced before. He was overwhelmed. The promise of mental and bodily pleasure made him eager to learn new abilities, and the Antaeus Protocol taught him to kill without remorse, erased his conscience and turned him into an obedient combat-machine. There was a second or two of hesitation and surprise, but the human instincts and hesitating conscience were soon quenched by the unbending and relentless Antaeus Protocol. His resistance was broken. He accepted the Antaeus Protocol, and, in the same second, the anabolic radiation increased in intensity. His eyes widened. His entire body spasmed for a few seconds. He could feel his cock rip the fabric of his pants apart. Testo levels! TESTO POWER! The surrounding hypertrophic solution bubbled intensely now, increasing the effect of the rising anabolic radiation manyfold. It went far beyond any of the earlier experiments, and Scott was now unaware of his surroundings, lost in the overwhelming experience of extreme, unlimited GROWTH. The unknown lenses he had observed before in two of the walls began to lit up, and flashed into life. The chamber, the liquid and anything inside the chamber were now exposed to two different types of power. The effect of the hypertrophic radiation was multiplied by the synergy of the unknown power. Scott's arms and legs thrashed around uncontrollably in the energised, bubbling liquid and his moans increased into bellows and roars: Bellows and roars of pleasure, bellows and roars of unbridled aggression and bellows and roars of a nameless ecstasy going beyond them both. He grew uncontrollably now, but he didn't want to control it. He just wanted more. He wanted all of it. He wanted uncrushable brawn and indestructible muscle mass. In the mirror-like surface of The Chamber he could see his physical appearance transcend all formerly known limits of the human physique. He must have been 6'10'' now, and he was still increasing rapidly in height. His muscle mass was like some unknown matter which was boiling over, but there was nothing random or deformed with his shape: The expanding steel-hard beef was shaping itself into the most well-proportioned and efficient icon of strength beyond strength, masculinity beyond ultra-masculinity. The gigantic shape of a titan emerged. A powerful titan bulging and throbbing of muscular strength. Scott felt the mounds – no, mountains! – that were the building blocks of his body, and increasingly more power was still ever crammed into ever fibre of his being. He could tangibly feel himself grow, and then he saw something, that looked like a liquid metal, like mercury, and shiny like a mirror, form around his body. He could feel the substance surround him and enclose him, and, when the process was finished, he felt entirely invulnerable. He felt indestructible, like a titan of yore. He was undefeatable, like Antaeus. Come hell or come high water, he would obey every order. He was the prototype of the Antaeus Protocol.