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  1. Chapter One "Oh, you were able to come!" As Roger gave Henry the biggest hug ever recorded in history, his friend gasped "I'm not the Ultimate Musketeer" and as Roger let go he chuckled "Although I could be if you wanted me to!" "We'll save that for the masses!" smiled Roger and with that opened the doors to the SUV and as Henry and Roger piled in all the materials they would need for the Olympia, they jumped in and pointed in the direction of Las Vegas and said in unison "Olympia, HO!" and with that Roger gunned the engine and they were off *** "Your destination is 809 miles away" announced the sat nav as they left Fort Collins "and will take eleven hours and thirty five minutes!" "Wow!" exclaimed Henry, "you do realise that's the same as travelling from where I live to Aberdeen and about two thirds of the way back again. You were right when you said that America was a large country!" "A large country" smiled Roger, "with large men heading to a contest with even larger men!" and with that they both laughed before Roger said "So, how was the flight?" "Flight?" asked Henry, "what flight?" "The flight from the UK to here!" replied Roger "Really?" asked Henry raising an eyebrow, "why on earth would I want to waste money on a flight?" "You never!" gasped Roger to which Henry replied with a chuckle "I did" and with that stated his journey. "I left my home at midnight today" he started, "remembering of course that I'm seven hours ahead of you. I had my luggage with me and so wheeled it down to the beach where I live. Then, and considering it was now a quarter past midnight, I went to the beach hut I have and there I..." "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "you did, didn't you?" "...became the Ultimate Musketeer!" added Henry and as he did Roger roared "Oh, fuck, yeah. Go on, tell me what you did!" "Well, after wrapping the luggage onto my back, I dived into the Irish Sea and headed due south west until I got to the Azores a little after three in the morning my time!" "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "how fast were you going?" "I'm not sure, but give me a moment" and as he consulted his tablet he replied "About three times faster than an aeroplane, but then I always like to go full throttle when I start!" "And then where?" moaned Roger "Well, I took a right hand turn and headed towards the United States. I think I arrived in, oh, now what was it called?" and with that he looked at the map and said "Ah, yes, here we are, Beverly Beach in Maryland, and that was just about sunrise" "You swum the Atlantic in a little over twelve hours?" gasped Roger "Give or take, yes!" "Oh man, your heart must have been pumping!" "Two hundred and forty beats per minute" said Henry, "about the same as a brisk jog. And from there I ran all the way here" "How long?" moaned Roger, "or should I stop the car now and cum?" "Let's see" came the reply, "I arrived in Maryland at around seven in the morning eastern, so that's five in the morning mountain, we'd agreed to pick me up from the airport at eleven mountain so five hours!" As Roger moaned, he pulled the car over and started scrabbling for something. Pulling out what looked like a drinks bottle, he pulled out his eleven inch cock, thrust it into the bottle and moaned "Speed?" "Three hundred and thirty nine miles per hour" came the reply, "a little under half the speed of sound!" "OOOOOOHHHHHH, FFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!" screamed Roger as he came into the bottle and as he orgasmed panted, "Tell Adam, the next time he visits, take the aeroplane. I don't think I'll be able to stand too many of his go it alone journeys!" "Hear that, Adam" said Henry tapping his head, "on the return journey we book a plane" to which Adam grumped in reply "That's not fair, you know I wanted to swim through the Panama Canal!"
  2. arbotimus

    The Iron Bug - Part V

    Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the plot-heavy one. Feel free to skip through at your leisure if that is not your jam. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V -- The Well We have lingered in the chambers of sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown. - T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" The clouds were painted flat and grey against the sky, leaving a muddy warmth in their wake. The pale morning light that made it through lent a calm air to the morning, the blue-hued rays filtering through the needles of trees. It was a day like any other. I waited outside Charlie’s house for him to leave for class. I had no plan. Short of makeshift handcuffs, I was out of ideas. He could probably knock me out at any time, and I had no idea how he did it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask nicely. He opened the door wearing a white wife beater that was just tight enough to show his abs through the fabric. When his verdant eyes turned to face me he looked amused. “You look different, little man,” he said. I stared at him blankly. I wasn’t sure what to do. He chuckled. “What is it you want from me anyways? You made your wish and it has nothing to do with mine.” He said. “What are you talking about?” I inquired bluntly. “I never made any wish. Frankly I have no idea what’s going on…although I’m not complaining, I guess,” I stated, rubbing my thick hands across the deep, shredded crevices of my abs. God, what was happening to me. “Sorry, that’s become a force of habit lately,” I mumbled. “You’ve never been to the well?” Charlie asked. “No. What well?” I asked impatiently. “Then what happened to you?” He seemed genuinely interested, the amusement on his face giving way to curiosity. And he clearly knew a lot more than I did. It couldn’t hurt to share. I described the metal bug, the insatiable desire to lift, the ravenous hunger, the euphoric growth, the second bite, and the dream. Well, the relevant parts of the dream. I also left out the parts about Delilah. He gazed at me intently before breaking into a smile. Then he took a deep breath. “Well, so much for class today. We’re going on a field trip.” Charlie said, dropping his backpack inside the door and then shutting it for good. He stretched and I could see the soft shadows of his triceps that I had felt in my dream. I was bewildered. Apparently my ignorance was enough to warrant his help. “Get ready for a bit of a hike. It’s not too far, but more than a quick walk.” After that he started ahead off without me, and I jogged to catch up. I followed him quietly as he led me through the neighborhood to a trail into the forest. It was a path I had run a few times before. Tall evergreens surrounded us, soft and inviting in the pale morning light. I spoke up once and he looked at me stolidly, telling me to “Just wait until we get there.” The rest of our trek was conducted in the relative silence of the forest. Only the frogs made sounds as they fell asleep for the day. I tried to focus on our surroundings instead of gaping awkwardly at his chiseled backside. I worried he would catch me staring and knock me out. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Squirrels ran through the leaf litter and up the trees, eying us cautiously as we made our way up the path. After about forty minutes we came to a unique collection of ovoid rocks that were stacked against one another, and he led us off the path to wade through the remnants of a trail overrun with forest scrub. I was forced to watch him as he guided us through, and I found that the longer I focused on him the less I was able to focus on anything else. There was a certain magnetism about the way he moved, confident and alluring. My eyes ate up his every motion hungrily. Everything about him was perfect. His back sculpted like the smoothest stone, his walnut colored hair reflecting beautifully in the sunlight, the beefy heads of his calves separating every time he took a stop, the sweat rolling off his caramel tanned skin, his clothes hugging his tight body with every motion. Amongst all the beauty of the forest, including my own, he outshined us all, a guiding light in the darkness. His radiance enraptured me, made me feel whole. A branch swept across my face, forcing my attention away from Charlie. The trance was lifted, and the rest of the world came rushing back into view. I felt on my face where I had been struck but could not find a cut or any pain. Another part of the transformation, I guessed. I wondered silently if anything could hurt me. When I looked back up at Charlie he seemed like an ordinary person again. Still just as attractive, but I was no longer transfixed by him. I found that if I stared for too long, however, I started to lose clarity again. It was best to focus elsewhere and follow the sound of him moving through the scrub. The last of the wildflowers were wilting in the mild summer heat. Another half an hour of trekking found us in a small clearing that was mostly shaded save for a few sharp slivers of sunlight that pierced through. Charlie stopped and took a long, deep breath. Leaf litter from the surrounding trees covered the ground, but few plants grew here. The ones that did had long, thin leaves almost like needles and vibrant red flowers that let their stamens out towards the ground. In the center of the clearing stood a stone structure resembling a well. The clean cut stones were a deep, mottled grey that I did not recognize. The well overflowed with water, and it spilled into a shallow pool of the same stone that encircled the structure. The water that flowed out seemed unnaturally dark, like it refused to let any light leave its shallow prison. A wooden covering was held by thin posts ornately carved with various animal and plant designs. It looked like it had been built long after the primary structure by someone other than the original architect. A small wooden bucket hung from the roof as well, although it did not seem to serve much purpose. “Welcome to the wishing well,” Charlie said with false ceremony. “I…don’t get it, honestly. Why are we here?” I said, perplexed. “Just go up to it. You’ll have to take your shoes off and put your feet into the water to look inside. Then you’ll see.” I agreed reluctantly. The whole structure, although simple enough, gave me an ominous feeling. Light and sound seemed to move oddly through the clearing because of it, sometimes enhanced and sometimes subdued but never what was expected. The well itself had a certain Lovecraftian alienness about it, as though whoever built it had tried to create something familiar but had failed in the details and instead made something entirely foreign. I steeled myself for whatever fate awaited me, taking my shoes off before the water. What the hell, I thought, rubbing my cheek where the branch had hit me. I am practically invincible now, anyways. The inky water was smooth and cool on my feet. The flow from the well gave me the impression of wading through the tide rather than standing in a pool, and I noticed that the water drained into holes along the pool’s stone edges. The closer I came to the well the more everything around it seemed to go dark in my vision. Soon the only thing I could see was the stone and the water, and my feet moving through it. The rest of the world had faded into a giant expanse, endless, vast, and humming with a vibrancy of life despite its emptiness. I rested my hands on the well, feeling the cool rush of dark water flow over them, and looked inside. Images swirled and began to take shape and form against the darkness. Soon I was a part of them, as though I was in a dream. I could not tell at first if the visions I saw were scenes from the future or memories. At times they felt like both. Each one was a snapshot from my life, not always in order but generally progressing forward. They came slowly at first, then faster and faster until they began to blur together. Important moments and small moments rubbed up against one another in a ceaseless barrage: graduation from university, a gentle kiss from a stranger, my election to head of an engineering firm, the desert view from atop a tall rock, my sister’s funeral. In every image I was the same age, and as time sped past I was oblivious to its effects. I traveled the world and experienced more than most do in a lifetime, summiting mountains and skyscrapers, exploring though canyons and across highways until I felt there was no more to see. I met others, many of them, from all walks of life. I talked with them, laughed with them, loved them, fucked them. I grew from each of them, and I cherished every one of them. In the midst of my travels, in a dark city alley lined with high adobe walls, I found a mirror. The humid air and sandy floor of the alley faded as I gazed into it. The reflection was my own, but I had grown to titanic proportions. At least twice my current size, and all muscle. The shelf of my pecs eclipsed the sun for those who stood under me, and the strength a single arm was enough to topple buildings. I was invincible, the epitome of eroticism and power. In the mirror’s visions, I filled my time with prodigious displays of my boundless strength, lifting ships with the flick of my wrist, stopping bullets and tanks that would stand in my way, eating and drinking and fucking whomever I pleased. I was indomitable in the world of men, a god for others to worship. I looked away from the mirror and continued on my own path. But the visions from the mirror stuck with me, haunting me. Time continued its march and I moved with it effortlessly, but the others did not. I watched my friends and loved ones die, and new ones sprang up to take their place. The stars continued to turn overhead, but I stopped counting the revolutions of the earth and the numbers of days that passed. Time was just an excuse for everything not to happen all at once. I watched the world change as my body refused to age. The seas rose and dried up, technologies advanced beyond what I thought possible, the natural world around us dwindled and was restructured in our image, countries rose and fell in what felt like minutes, and soon we left the earth behind. Eventually I jumped across stars with the rest of our species through the grandness of the cosmos, watching patiently what became of us as we traipsed from galaxy to galaxy. And just when I felt myself start to slip into a boundless infinity a hand pulled me out from the well. I inhaled sharply, as though I had just been rescued from the bottom of a pool. “What did you see?” he asked calmly. “I was immortal. I saw everything.” Charlie regarded me cautiously. “That’s a new one. Must have been why you were out for so long. “Look, just be careful. The well shows you the wish you want, but it doesn’t always grant it. Mostly it works out, but sometimes it fails and things get tricky. That’s probably where your bugs came from, too. Whoever made that wish may not have even been bitten.” I paused, considering what monstrous incarnation of eternity would spring forth from the well to grant my own wish. Finally I regained the courage to speak. “What did you wish for?” I asked. “I haven’t. I’m like you. The product of someone else’s wish.” I stared at him blankly. “When my mom was young she found this well by accident. Just like you and everyone who comes across it, it showed her what she wanted most, although she didn’t know it at the time. She says she saw the most beautiful woman in the world, one that no man could resist. When she asked the well to make it real, a branch grew from the water and offered her a fruit. “She got her wish. Not only was she beautiful, but men became obsessed with her. She drove them mad. And when she spoke, she could ask them to do anything she wanted.” “Like what you did with me?” I asked. He nodded. She had asked to become Helen but had become a Siren instead. And apparently it was heritable. “The way her wish was granted, she never knew if men loved her or were just lost in a trance. But she managed to fall in love with my dad, somehow, and they lived together long enough to have me. “Then one day while he was working on his car he cut his arm pretty deep, and when he looked at her she was a stranger. It took him a long time just to remember who she was, and after he couldn’t even look at her. They split after that. That’s the short version anyhow.” “What happened to her?” I asked. “She still lives here with me. She rarely goes out now. Too many eyes watching. Now she only talks with the others who have been to the well. Most of them online. They tend to scatter.” “What about you, then? Have you ever looked in the water?” “No, I haven’t. Too risky. I don’t have it even a quarter as bad as she does,” he said, gesturing down to his body, “And you can barely even look at me for more than five minutes.” I blushed. I wasn’t sure if he had noticed. “I have my whole life to think about what my wish will be. There’s no rush.” “So I could wish for everything to go back to normal?” “I don’t know. Whoever or whatever built this well doesn’t seem to need it anymore, so we can’t ask questions. We only know what we know from the wishes we’ve made. “Look, I only brought you here so you could understand what’s happening to you. It probably would have drawn you here anyways, even if I hadn’t shown you. That’s what happened to me, sort of like your dream. I can’t stop you from making your wish, but you should know it doesn’t always go according to plan.” I thought to argue, but it was useless. He had made up his mind. And so we left the clearing and headed home in silence once more. The siren’s son led me from the water, safe to dry land. -- The night was dark from thick cloud cover and an absent moon. I had spent all day packing, throwing away most of my clothes that wouldn’t fit anymore. I was already a day and a half late, and I tried to rush but I found it hard to focus. My mind was preoccupied with the well. My head buzzed with the wish that I would make, what, if anything, I would tell Delilah, and the behemoth that had stared back at me in the mirror. If I wanted to, I could ask for it. But that was someone else’s wish, I had to remind myself. Although, even still… I loved the way the downcast lighting reflected off of my body, the way every single crevice formed by my impressive musculature made a deep shadow. I thought about how I could make men cum just by letting them worship me, how even my fingers had the strength to bend metal with ease, and how the hard flesh under my skin was now akin to the metal that I lifted. Pre leaked ceaselessly from my hard cock as I subtly flexed and explored what my body had become. -- My flashlight barely lit the forest path as I made my way out to the well. I got lost a few times, having to turn back before I found the rock formation I was looking for. I stumbled my way through the trail, freshly beaten by our steps from this morning, and found my way to the clearing. The red flowers glowed with a soft phosphorescence in the darkness of the night. Only a few scarce stars were visible overhead. I took a deep breath, removed my shoes and placed my feet into the water. The temperature had not changed, and against the cool night air it was warm on my feet. The infinite expanse opened up to me again, my surroundings even darker than the night I came from. I saw the same visions pass before my eyes, including the mirror. And when it was done I stood silently for a few moments, the weight of eternity on my shoulders. Then I made my wish.
  3. arbotimus

    The Iron Bug - Part IV

    Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the sexy one. A short summary of previous parts will be posted below. Part I Part II Part III Part VI -- Metamorphosis As soon as I closed my eyes I found myself drifting in a vast darkness. Everything was black and empty except for a dull, growing warmth inside me, like I was on the cusp of a fever. Time was hard to gauge here. I passed what could have been minutes or hours through the emptiness before the pulse in my veins began to rise. Slowly at first, but then stronger and stronger until it was near bounding. At the same time my muscles swelled and tightened to their own rhythm, every fiber burgeoning with more power from each flexion. The pleasure of each muscle filling out to its rightful proportion was exhilarating, almost orgasmic. Pre leaked out of me in streams and floated aside me through the abyss. I was lost in a tranquil euphoria, becoming something greater. More immeasurable time passed before the transformation slowed to a halt, and I realized that I was still dreaming. The darkness faded into a blue sky, my body falling gently into a field of tall grass. I opened my eyes slowly. The sun shone radiantly, casting its bright light over my body and a few crimson flowers that each rose like its own little sun from between the long blades. The warmth of the grass pressed against my now cool skin, the bristles soft against my hard flesh. I laid there calmly, basking in the afterglow of my metamorphosis. When I lifted my head and sat up, Charlie stared down at me. His expression was almost mischievous, like a little kid caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t. His feet dragged through the tall blades as he stepped towards me, pushing me back down with his foot as his body towered over mine. Even when he lifted his foot his confident gaze was enough to hold me in place. Something about him was spellbinding, commanding. My titanic strength was useless before it. He kneeled down on top of me and I felt the softness of the grass on my back mirror the smoothness of his skin on mine. Every muscle on his body was solid, smooth, and flawlessly proportioned. Running my hands across his triceps I felt each curvature as they flexed with the simplest motion. His eyes shone marvelously and effortlessly. Our lips touched. The physical separation between us faded as we continued to explore each other. I guided my hands along his burly arms while our lips played with each other’s, and then he ran his nose thorough the deep crevice of my solid abs, his fingers gently toying with my erect nipples until he brought his tongue back up to meet them. In an instant I rolled us over and pressed him down, forcing my tongue into his mouth. I was stronger, and it thrilled me. I pinned his arms on the ground and held his legs down with my massive quads, rubbing my dick slowly on top of his. Our abs slid across each other as my dick throbbed in anticipation of my load. Suddenly his lips left mine and he gazed into my eyes with a sort of smug expression. He guided me gently with his hands, and I could not help but yield to his touch. He flipped us back over. He stared at me again with that overwhelming confidence, and then started to kiss his way down to my cock. I leaned my back onto the stone well that had appeared behind us, as objects sometimes do in a dream. Just as he started to reach past my apollo’s belt, I let out a deep groan… -- I awoke to rain pounding on the roof. It was heavy and full and warm with summer. I stared at the fine grains of the wood of the ceiling for a long, hard minute before I was convinced that I wasn’t dreaming anymore. My heavy breathing and the drops on the windowpanes were the only sounds that filled the room. The paltry, muggy light of dusk gave me just enough light to see the vague outlines of the walls. Apparently I had slept for a long time. The blankets had tangled from my tossing and turning, and I carefully unraveled my cocoon of sheets to find freedom. A sharp inhale filled my lungs, my chest expanding outward proudly to let the air rush in. Even without seeing it, I felt thicker, stronger, more powerful. My muscles moved like steel under my skin. When I flexed them I felt as though I had the strength to lift buildings and move mountains. The sheets tore as I gripped them in anticipation. Fuck. I flipped the light switch on to guide my way to the bathroom, swelling with the suspense of my image in the mirror. To my horror, I found my body hadn’t changed at all. My heart fell out of my chest. All of my work had been for nothing. My cock head begged to differ, however, flaring larger than any I had ever seen and standing atop a dick that was one and a half times its original size. I had gone from just above average to well endowed, with thickness to match. When I touched it lightning ran through my body. But I held on, stroking gently. Watching myself jack off in the mirror was still something to behold. I lifted my 18 inch arms and watched each belly stand out in relief, chiseled, rock solid, perfection. My abs crunched down and formed a cobblestone eight pack. Fuck, I was starting to get weak in the knees. I grabbed onto the shower certain rod for support. Instead the metal bent in my hand, removing the rod from its holds. I fell on my butt and the rod clanged on the floor. Without getting up, I picked up the warped metal and gave it a quick bend with just my right hand. My left stayed dedicated to stroking off as I twisted the metal into whatever shape I pleased, watching the muscles on my forearms danced as I contorted it like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. It was exhilarating, knowing the strength I had in just my fingers. My cum reached the ceiling from the floor as I came. Good thing I was just tall enough to reach up there now. I kept playing with the rod as my cock finished its final spurts. A note for the iron bug manual: a full bite grants you Priapus’ cock and Hercules’ strength. Good to know. And then I had an idea. -- Two hours later I found myself in a big city, noticing the streetlights' reflection off of my old beat up truck and a few scattered puddles on the ground. The apartment building I was looking for seemed to rise up stoically out of the cement, featureless and foreboding for its onlookers. I felt the cool, fresh night air run across my hard flesh as I walked inside. The lights in the lobby flickered fluorescent and bright, in stark contrast to the melancholy world I had just left. A shell of safety and warmth. I took the elevator to the third floor and walked the long, sparsely decorated hallway down to room 304. When he opened the door he smiled at me. I’m sure he was surprised at what he found, since I had used pictures from two transformation cycles ago to find him. “Come on in,” he said, his deep voice complementing the hypermasculine stature that stood proudly before me. Head shaved, white skin, shirt that looked tailored to show off the size of his chest and the slimness of his waist. I guessed he was between 32 and 35, his face showing the subtle signs of aging that were combated by a life dedicated to lifting and fitness. He turned around and left the door open. I liked the way he walked. It was a mixture of that arrogant jock sort of saunter and the stilted, muscle-bound waddle of bodybuilders. His confidence was exuberant. That was going to be fun to break. He was just finishing dinner. In a large red cast iron pan, some inedible-looking green paste was still frying. He offered some to me. I looked at him and gave him a sly smile. “I don’t really watch what I eat,” I said, my expression falling back to the cold, elusive demeanor that I had adopted since the metamorphosis. He started to coach me on the impacts of diet on fitness and health and my attention drifted. I noticed his chest bounce every time he made a gesture. I could tell that he liked the way it stretched the fabric. Every movement was proud, calculated. I got up and moved towards him, him still going on about the lean muscle he had gained on his current diet. I took his wrist in my hand. It was solid, doubtlessly from years of lifting and perfecting his body. I wanted him to resist me, to give him a hint of how this night was going to go, but his hand moved with mine. I lifted my shirt and placed his rough fingers along my abs. “Does it feel like I need to go on a diet?” I said. He whistled, and a horny grin followed. “Okay, fair point,” he said. “Let’s head to the bedroom,” I said. He didn’t hesitate any further. “Wait, I need to use the bathroom first,” I lied. “Sure. It’s just around the corner there,” he said, pointing behind me. I watched him practically skip his way down the hall. He had a nice ass, perky and firm. Hi torso twisted to get through the doorframe. Meanwhile I took a quick detour to the garage. I got lucky. It was full of weights. I took a few minutes making preparations for the night. When I came back I found him with his shirt off, trying to look casual but clearly giddy with anticipation. I had to admit, his body was even more impressive without clothes on. Slightly marred by age, he still had a tight six pack and his lats stuck out noticeably from his sides, making his waist seem more trim. I could even see some of the striations in his pecs. He could compete as a lightweight bodybuilder if he wanted to, and maybe he had. “You like?” he said, lifting up his bicep. Probably over 18 inches. Bigger than mine. I smirked at him. “Sure, it’s alright.” He must have thought I was being sarcastic. “Where do you wanna start, big guy?” I said, playing to his pride. Having waited long enough, he pressed his lips into mine, softly. His lips were practiced, and his tongue moved skillfully in and out of my mouth. He led me over to the bed, but before he could lay on top of me I flipped us around and pushed him down onto it. He scrambled to take off his shorts and underwear and I took off my shirt slowly, letting him savor every moment of the reveal. I may not have gained much in size, but there was something of an unspeakable strength and dignity to my body. Every part of me was like iron, the flesh just barely containing the strength that lay under it. I stood over him for a few silent seconds before I revealed the metal bar I had kept hidden in my waistband. Normally it would be twice as long and more suited to hold weights, but I had torn it in half for what I had in mind. His expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. I bent the bar into a U shape right in front of him. It was like wire. I barely even felt the resistance. Without warning him I grabbed his wrists with my hands. He was in shock for the first few moments, but then he remembered that he should struggle. It was kind of cute. He thought he was strong, that I couldn’t possible keep him in my grip. It turned out the power in my fingers was more than he had in his entire upper body. I took the bar and put it around his burly wrists, clamping the metal shut with just one hand. The horror on his face was juxtaposed with his throbbing erection. Even if he didn’t understand what was happening he sure liked it. “How do you feel?” I asked, crushing off the loose ends of the bar and tightening down the space between his hands to form makeshift handcuffs. “What are you?” he responded, exasperated. “I honestly don’t know,” I replied. “Does it really matter?” I noticed that with his hands stuck together it made his chest stick out. Even while he was indisposed, the fullness and definition in his pecs were still admirable. My dick hardened at the thought that I had incapacitated him with so little effort. I reached down for his cock that was sticking out of his boxers. He was leaky. Hell, I would be too in a situation like this. There wasn’t a single part of my body that wasn’t worthy of salivating over. I threw him a few poses while I had him as my captive audience. Then I drew his throbbing member from its cotton sheath and whistled at what I found. At least eight inches, hard as stone, head throbbing with anticipation. Gaining momentum, I lifted him up off the bed and hefted him over my shoulder. Then I pressed him up with one hand. The metal dragged along my back as I lifted him, and I could feel the indentations my fingers had left. He stared at me with an expression of wonder and lust. I smiled at him and brought him back down towards me, allowing our lips to meet. Then I worked my tongue down his neck, past his nipples, across his abs until they met the head of his cock. I was pleasantly surprised that he lasted for more than a few minutes with my tongue wrapped around his head. I took my time, never letting him drop an inch even as he started to leak. When I felt him getting close I held him with both hands around his waist and started rubbing his cock against my chest. The idea must have really riled him up, because he came almost immediately. I laughed as his rather prodigious volume splashed up against my chin. Some of it found its way to my lips. It was sweet. I tossed him on the bed to marinate in his own juices while I went to wash off. But before I got in his shower, I spread the substantial volume of semen that I had earned across my chest. I liked the “oiled” look, the way the lighting made every fiber in my already awesome chest stand out even more. Turning the water on, I took turns bouncing them up and down as I washed them. I went slowly, admiring the absolute control I had over every muscle in my body. Soon I was touching myself all over… My cum stained his ceiling. I was sure he wouldn’t mind. When I got back to the room he lifted his bound hands towards me and begged: “Please, officer?” I obliged, twisting the metal off of his wrists without a drop of sweat. “Can I see you again?” he asked, almost pleading. I frowned. “Sadly, I’m moving tomorrow. I was supposed to leave yesterday, actually, but some business came up. If I’m ever back in town, you’ll be the first person I call.” I left him on the bed, still soaked in his own cum, dazed from what I had done to him. I felt sated. It was time to get some answers. Part V
  4. EcchiMultiverse

    Marvelous Man - Chapter 17

    All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1ttWgu6jKoc52k89119nNB9i67VQz9vzRdVRrizgSR1I) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1ttWgu6jKoc52k89119nNB9i67VQz9vzRdVRrizgSR1I) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN Chapter 17: The Cobwebs of Sunnysville “Wait, that’s it?” frowned Gemini. Justice nodded, “Yeah.” “Just walk on through?” inquired Gemini. Justice answered back, “Yeah...I thought you said this was dimensional magic. You know how it works, right?” “Well, yeah, point A to point A2 instantly, but what we’re about to do is teleportation magic. Point A to point B...Assuming that…Sunnysville is in this realm...right?” hesitated Gemini. The Soulem stared into the closet that had the silver key in it. With it finally opened, Gemini was able to look at where the destination of the magical closet led to. His eyes laid upon the drab, white interior walls of the CashIThere loan office; the building that held the entrance and exit to Sunnysville. “Why does the other side look like the inside of a sad office building?” he questioned. Justice explained, “Well, my parents didn’t want me to accidentally find the door that led outside of Sunnysville to this apartment. So they hid it inside of a loan shark office, cause it’d be the last place I’d ever want to explore. But even if I did find it, I still needed the key to get through it. So I’m not sure why they hid it…” “Not so much the sharpest tools in the shed, huh?” remarked Gemini. The bodybuilder thought back to the childhood he had with his parents in Sunnysville. He remembered how they loved to overkill with dramatics, which caused them to overthink certain issues. The thought of his tenth birthday sprung to his mind. He wanted a bike, they gave him a motorcycle. Papa Ares included a helmet and joint pads for safety. Reflecting back on that event, Justice was now glad he was too small to get up on that motorcycle. He loved his parents dearly, but none of them are gods pertaining to intellectual features. His father, Apollo, might have been the exception for his deity over medicine and art, but his brightness was not the kind that helps one understand math problems. As for Ares, using weapons and a passion for violent outcomes does not at all require a brain cell. Justice’s mother, Aphrodite, causes the lower body to do the thinking; a skill she can pull off even in sweatpants and a moth-eaten t-shirt. Justice smiled, “I mean...huh...now that I think about it, they overspecialize so much in their areas that they have almost no foresight...and maybe common sense. I guess that’s what happens when wisdom isn’t their defining characteristic, heh.” “Same could be said about you,” sassed Gemini, “Welp, let’s head into town then. Lead the way in, slave. Now mush!” Gemini jostles the Dragon Pearls™ cord as if he were cracking a whip or the reins of a dog sled. Justice sighed, as he rolled his eyes and smirked. He wanted to tell Gemini to quit it, but the third wish would remain active until the Dragon Pearls™ were completely out of his bowels. Instead of feeling frustrated, his heart palpitated at the excitement of showing Sunnysville to his friend. The musclebound slave grabbed the silver key from the closet door; not wanting to be accidentally trapped on the other side when they closed the portal door. With no pocket to place the keys in, Justice kept it within his grasp. Strolling through the door with his ankle bells ringing, the hulking bodybuilder led the bulky Soulem through the dimensional doorway. It felt weird to walk into another world in such a casual manner and arrive in an area that was completely dull and empty. As Gemini closed the door behind them, the Soulem shivered. “Whoah,” said the Soulem. Justice looked back, “What’s wrong?” “I just got cut off from the wifi. Can’t access the cloud or anything. It feels weird to not have information at my fingertips. I’ve only felt like this during the few minutes I was first activated and when I transitioned to my new body,” answered Gemini. Justice asked, “Umm, do you want the password for the city wifi here?” “I’d very much like that. Thanks,” replied Gemini. Justice spoke, “It’s ‘flamingchariot’. One word, all lowercase.” He continued thumping his musclebound body through the empty hallway; echoing the jingling ankle bells on his gold-plated slave ankle cuffs. The two walked towards the end of the hallway and came to face with a door. Opening it, Justice strode through and arrived in the lobby. It looked the same as when he first came to this loan office. A place that reflected broken dreams and false hopes. A place that had metal bars on the windows, old black gum grouped with mysterious stains on the dark blue carpet, and the aged fluorescent bulbs with moths circling about it like sharks. Justice figured such a scenery would be the picture definition of shithole. Heading to the lobby’s counter, he spotted the miserable-looking clerk. She sat behind the white counter, reading a magazine with a lit cigarette in hand. The unkempt woman looked up at Justice; her hair still messy enough to serve as a bird’s nest and her coke-bottle glasses completely cracked. Upon eye contact through the counter’s bullet hole-riddled glass divider, she took a long puff of her cigarette. She exhaled in a deep, cracked voice, “Fuck off. Can I help you?” Justice flexed his eyebrow at the absurdity. He had forgotten how crass the clerk was. Saying nothing, the bodybuilder placed the silver key on the counter. Gemini stared at the messy clerk, while his mood rings switched to the color orange. “Well, aren’t you such a ray of sunshine cunt,” commented Gemini. As Justice turned away, the unkempt woman went back to reading her magazine. The bodybuilder smiled at Gemini’s remark; feeling happy that his friend came to defend him. He then remembered that his friend was defending him from a fake being who could only say one thing. Gemini frowned, “Mmhmm. Better check that attitude of yours next time.” “It’s fine, Gem. Let’s just go,” said Justice. The bodybuilder continued making his way towards the entrance with the Soulem following behind him. Pushing open the door, Justice strode outside. He looked about himself and noticed how odd it was that the location of a loan office was dark even during the day. Gemini huffed, “What a bitch. You don’t have to take that, you know.” “I know, but it’s okay. I think she was put there to keep me away from the portal if I ever got curious,” replied Justice. The Soulem remarked, “Then I dunno why she’s still got that attitude if you’re already using the portal. Then again, if I looked at her, I’d stop giving a shit about what I say to people too.” “It’s just how she is,” said Justice. The musclebound slave looked up at the sign of the CashIThere loan office. A few of the dull, yellow neon letters were still burnt out that made it seem like it was displaying “shIThere”. Justice smirked at the lit sign; causing Gemini to follow the bodybuilder’s gaze and transforming the mood rings to a shade of light blue. Apollo tried his very best to make the scene in front of Justice unapproachable yet a tad comedic. Gemini smiled, “Heh, shit here.” “Yeah. Or shit there,” spoke Justice. Gemini giggled, “Well, it’s definitely shit.” “It is,” said Justice, “Come on, I gotta show you the rest of Sunnysville. It definitely looks better than this.” “Let’s hope,” grinned Gemini. As the two began their walk again, Gemini looked down. The Soulem stared at the bodybuilder slave’s globular buttocks. It was inflated with so much muscle and fat, that it wobbled like two giant water balloons with every step Justice took. Gemini’s digital white eyes lingered on the glutes for a moment before descending onto the Dragon Pearls™ sticking out of the bodybuilder’s pumped anus. The color of his mood rings changed to black, as his eyes drifted to the three exposed orange orbs. Gemini would have to issue five more commands before the entire sex toy can be taken out of Justice’s rectum. The Soulem ordered, “I wish you couldn’t stop preeing!” Gemini yanked the cord that was attached to the silver ring on his finger. The fourth crystal ball exited the slave’s virgin hole with a loud, wet plop. Justice gasped, “GAH! FATHERFUCKER!!!” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Upon leaving the dark zone that held the CashIThere office, the two were immediately embraced by the sunlight Justice was familiar with. The duo continued their walk upon the sidewalk, while they took in the sights. Justice’s dark skin could feel the warm rays of the bright sun, and the cool breeze gracing against it. Another normal day in Sunnysville where the temperature was perfect, and it only rained on Mondays. “Gotta say, the weather here is kinda tropical. It feels nice,” mentioned Gemini. Justice nodded, “Yeah. It’s always perfect here.” The bodybuilder stopped in his tracks, as he felt the Dragon Pearls™ inside of him tug like an anal leash. Looking behind himself, Justice spotted Gemini gazing at the property on their right. “Guessing that’s Sunnysville’s high school?” pointed Gemini. The overly-muscular slave followed to where the Soulem indicated. Next to the two was an open football field, yet the Soulem finger was not aimed there. Across the sporty landscape was a large grade-school campus. The architecture stood three stories high and was made up of three buildings interconnected with one another. Planted next to the education facility was a large sign colored in yellow and orange. Printed on the sign in giant letters was, “Sunnysville School. Proud home of the Flaming Chariots”. Underneath the words was the school’s mascot; a being made out of wooden wheels with eyes covering the outer rims. The wheeled abomination was also embalmed in fire. Justice answered, “Yeah. But it’s also my middle and elementary school. It’s a small town, so all the schools got made into one big building.” “Huh. So how’d an angelic Throne get turned into a mascot? I get why it can be called a chariot, but it’s just inaccurate,” inquired Gemini. Justice explained, “A long time ago, I entered in a school contest for redesigning the flaming chariot mascot. And since I was playing this one game that had a whole bunch of mythological characters in it that you can summon, I found Throne in it and got the idea to use it for the contest. I ended up winning, and that’s how it became our school mascot.” The Soulem looked up at Justice; his mood rings now becoming gray. “Huh? But you didn’t you say you were homeschooled?” said Gemini. The sound of a school bell rang in the air, as Justice was about to reply. Students then poured out of campus building; heading to their respective homes. Justice spoke, “Come on. Let’s go. I want to get out of here before Greggory shows up.” The Soulem followed Justice’s lead, as they resumed their walk. The sidewalk the two walked on drew closer to the school before coming upon a split that one led towards the school and the other leading to a street crosswalk. “Who’s Greggory?” he asked. Justice sighed, “A childhood best friend I would hang out with from time to time. We did stuff together but never really talked.” “And he’s still in high school?” questioned Gemini. The bodybuilder replied, “He never graduated.” Greggory was another thing from Justice’s past he did not want to think about. Another android from Sunnysville that was incapable of socializing. He was another object in Sunnysville that Justice thought was a person. The moment Justice decided as a child that they were best friends, it was a role Greggory never stopped playing. It was another role Justice was trapped in. As Justice began to set foot on the crosswalk, he heard a young boy’s voice calling out to him. “Hey, buddy! Let’s hang out!” shouted the boy. The musclebound slave muttered, “Shit.” Looking down the concrete sidewalk leading towards the school, Justice spotted a young boy in a simple white t-shirt and jeans running towards him. The boy looked to be about the age of a high school teenager and waved at him while running at a speed faster than any normal child could possibly run. The child’s running pattern was almost like a machine running at top acceleration and was unhindered by the hefty backpack attached to the school boy’s back. “Holy hell, he can run. I’m guessing that’s Greggory,” commented Gemini. The teenager reached the massive bodybuilder in seconds. He immediately stopped exactly one step away from Justice and looked up at overly-muscular slave. The child showed no sign of exhaustion, and no sweat could be seen running down his white skin. The school boy smiled, “Hey, Justice, buddy. Let’s hang out. We can go to the mall and play at the arcade.” Every part of Justice wanted to talk to Greggory; as if he were reacting to a muscle memory. But he knew that it would just be taking part in a lie. Justice willed himself to ignore the teenager and look back at Gemini. He knew that as long as he did not make eye contact or say its name, the android would not respond to whatever he said. “J-Just ignore him. He’ll probably go away if we keep walking,” he said. Gemini frowned, “What? No. That’s rude, dude. He’s your childhood best friend.” “I don’t want to,” gritted Justice. Gemini commanded, “I wish you’d talk to him!” The Soulem yanked on the Dragon Pearls™. Another orange orb popped out of Justice’s wet rectum with a loud plop. The musclebound slave bent forward, as his muscles seized. He could feel his insides feel more vacant, while the pleasures of having his hole stretched electrified his hulking body. The bodybuilder’s bulge twitched, and its wet spot began to drip manly fluid at an increased rate. “NGH!...Hi, Greggory,” compelled Justice. Greggory chatted, “So you want to hang out?” “Maybe next time,” answered Justice. Greggory smiled, “Okay. Catch you later then. I’m gonna head home and eat my veggies before doing my homework and telling my parents that I love them.” The fake best friend turned robotically towards the crosswalk and took off. It continued to run at the same charging speed when it first approached Justice. “That’s an odd thing to say. What is he, a Saturday morning cartoon character for five year olds?” remarked the Soulem, “And I’m kinda surprised he never looked at me once. He just had laser-eye focus on you with those creepy blue doll eyes of his.” Justice muttered, “I guess…” “I’m kinda more surprised that he didn’t say anything about what you’re wearing. Or even that you’re leaking pre. Seriously, you’re leaving behind a snail trail with your own goo,” said Gemini. The musclebound slave did his best to ignore his situation but was still completely aware of the predicament. The silver spandex pouch with the golden letters “IT” printed on was nearly soaked. Over the span of time it took to walk from the loan office to the Sunnysville school, the wet blotch on Justice’s sexual package had grown far enough to reach the golden cock ring. The pre-ejaculate that had gathered at the tip like a dewdrop had now dripped every few seconds like a leaky faucet. Whatever strands or drops of pre that did not collide with Justice’s enormous thighs or feet would leave trails of large, raindrop-sized liquids on the sidewalk. Justice reasoned, “He only notices when I say yes or no, or when we do something together.” “Weird,” frowned Gemini. The bodybuilder huffed, “So, is there anything else you’re gonna force me to do, Master? Cause I’d like to show you my old home.” Upon hearing the comment, Gemini’s mood ring changed to black. “Ohhhh. I like the sound of that,” cooed the Soulem. Gemini ordered, “I wish that you’d address me as Master, and that your name and pronouns are changed to Slave.” The husky Soulem yanked his hand back as if he were starting up a lawn mower. Slave’s donut-shaped hole emitted a squishy plop, while the sixth ball of the Dragon Pearl™ toy came out of it. Slave moaned at lower octave, as the bodybuilder lurched backwards. Slave’s spandex-encased pouch twitched; increasing the rate of precum drops to resemble a faucet partially turned on. “That’s two wishes!” Slave grunted. Master shrugged, “The Dragon Pearls™ beg to differ. I guess conjunctions are a loophole, since they combine two sentences into one.” The hulking bodybuilder turned to Master and squinted down at the Soulem. “...Slave hate you so much,” frowned Slave. Master grinned, “Hey, at least I didn’t use that for my eighth wish. That would’ve really fucked you over, since the last one is permanent.” Slave rolled his eyes before turning around to face the crosswalk. Part of him did enjoy being controlled by Master, but it was still humiliating. Slave knew that telling the Soulem how the slave felt would arouse the Soulem even further. “Just don’t wish for something that would make Slave’s life difficult. Slave don’t want it to affect Slave’s ability to fight,” said the bodybuilder. As the two crossed the road, Master’s mood ring returned to white. He inquired, “Oh, yeah. That reminds me. Where did you get that name from? Marvelous Man, I mean.” “Slave’s parents kept saying they wanted to make Slave a marvelous hero. It stuck to Slave, and Slave thought it described Marvelous Man’s powers perfectly. And since Sl-...Marvelous Man found out that he is not as super as he thought he was, being marvelous is fine,” explained Slave. Master smiled, “Ah, looks like you found a loophole in my wish, heh. So what is your rank? Well, Marvelous Man’s rank.” “Rank-D. But it’s fine. Marvelous Man has accepted it. He might not be the best fighter, but he can be the best supporter. He likes it now, because he is more useful in other ways that other supers can’t,” said Slave. Master nodded, “That’s cool. Being able to heal is very rare. That kind of ability really helps cut corners on healthcare funding for all our heroes. Probably won’t be long until the Nemesis Branch tries to recruit you. It’s pretty much the golden ticket of superpowers.” “They kinda already did. But they told Marvelous Man to come back to them when he becomes a C-Rank,” mentioned Slave, “So if healing superpowers help cutting costs, are magical healers in demand?” Master sighed, “Eh, not really. Healing magic is rarely picked up as a magical profession unless you live in a low-income area. Why learn how to incantate a complicated spell on the battlefield when a soldier with basic first aid can bandage themselves up or use Arkos Division’s medical gel or whatever cure-all brand they’ve invented.” “So why not make healing potions or magic beans or something?” questioned Slave. Master exclaimed, “Ha! Only the D.A.B. bothers to keep up that practice. Ignoring the time it takes to make it, it can get pretty costly getting the materials and energy from the arcane practitioners to mass produce it for lots of people. Once again, why bother going through all that when you can science the problem with a bunch of machines with a handful of scientists and engineers.” With the way Master framed the usefulness of magic, why bother even having it in the first place? Slave knew if magic is truly outdated, then the Demonic Authority Bureau would have died out a long time ago. Slave wanted to believe that there is some reason magic is bothered to still be used. “You’re kinda making it seem like magic is…ya know, obsolete,” commented Slave. Master replied, “It does. But there are some things that magic can do, that science can’t. Kinda like you.” “Plus, magic is still used a lot in the middle and low-income areas. Ironically, it’s cheaper for them to use it than to try to purchase medicine or whatever. Some have been able to improvise with whatever they got around the house, and the magical researchers have been losing their shit over that,” continued Master, “There’s also a current rise in witches with the high schoolers and younger kids, cause magic is trending as the cool new thing to do.” Slave thought it seemed like such an odd thing for children to get into. As Slave thought about the only witch the massive bodybuilder met so far, Director Skye, Slave realized something. The reason why minors would become witches is more than likely because of the fluffy, impish perk that came with it. “Slave has a rough idea of why they would probably become witches,” said Slave. Master spoke, “Hm. Hey, do you think you could ask Puzzles more about it? I heard that he’s pissed about all those kids summoning their own familiars, and I want to know why. I thought he’d have liked to see more imps running amongst the populace or something.” “Sure, Slave guess,” said the slave. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The two continued their walk around town, as Slave explained the locations. All the stores were still functional but had thick layers of dust covering the shelves and displays. Only the objects the androids were programmed to interact with were the only clean ones. Master had made efforts to talk to the robots, but they continued to ignore his existence. Slave made the effort to distract the Soulem, but Master’s mood ring would eventually flicker back and forth with purple and orange. The Soulem stated, “So it only rains here on Mondays.” “Yeah,” nodded Slave. Master frowned, “That’s weird.” “I mean, it was weirder to Slave that it rains whenever in Skyway City,” said Slave. Gemini paused, “...That’s how it works anywhere in the world.” Slave did not reply, as Master looked up at the clear, blue sky. “Ya know, I’d ask if there’s some weather magic happening, but there’s something else permeating in this whole town. It’s like...magic but not magic. And it smells like rain too,” spoke the Soulem. Slave flexed an eyebrow, “You can smell magic?” Master tapped the tip of his large, silver nose, as his mood rings transformed to the color gold. “Yeppers. I had my nose modified to smell not just the normal stuff. It picks up on magic’s unique frequencies, and then my brain translates it into scent. So things like curses would smell like rotting meat to me,” explained Gemini. Slave grinned, “That’s probably the third most surprising thing about you today.” “Oh? Was the first my sexy new body?” flirted the Soulem. Slave giggled, “That was actually the second. Slave knew you’d eventually get a new body, but Slave did not think it would be so sexy.” “It was actually finding out that you were Chinese,” recanted the bodybuilder. Master’s mood ring color transitioned to gray. “Huh?” he said. Slave reasoned, “The Director said your last name is Master, right?...You know what Slave mean. Isn’t it Chinese?” As the best friends turned into a culdesac neighborhood, the color of Master’s mood ring became white. “Ohhhhh. Yeah, my dad is Chinese-American, so I identify as that too. Especially when my dad brought me back to China for a family get-together for the Chinese New Years. But nobody has ever questioned that, even though my last name is Yin,” answered Gemini. Master inquired, “So I’m guessing you’re a mixed race or just pure black?” “Slave mean...Slave think Slave Greek even though Slave black,” shrugged Slave. Looking ahead, Slave spotted a structure he spent a better part of his life in. Slave noticed the painted colors fade with age, as the hulking bodybuilder drew closer. It was a three-story house that was painted in coats of red, pink, and yellow. Any other person would have seen it as a life-sized dollhouse with no coordinated colors. Slave pointed, “That’s Slave’s home.” “Huh...not as luxurious compared to your apartment. Do any of your parents still live here? Cause your house...has not been well-maintained,” remarked Master. The two arrived in front of aged house, as Slave placed a hand on the old white picket fence stationed in front of Slave’s old home. Slave could feel splinters ready to prick his skin; a sign of being weathered down without any recent history of repair. Looking down, Slave saw the grass grown to shin-engulfing heights with spiky weeds poking out. Seeing such sights reminded Slave of old lady Judy’s lawn. It must have been a jungle by now. Slave then also spotted a trail created by the greenery being beaten down many times; leading from the old, wooden gate to the house’s front door. Slave frowned, “No. They left when Slave did.” “Hello there, neighbor!” said a man. Glancing up, Slave spotted an anthropomorphic moose standing in the lawn next door. The moose was dressed in khakis and a sweater with glasses. It stood there doing its usual routine every afternoon; watering the lawn. Slave could feel the old habit taking over. Slave waved, “Hi, Mister Wilson.” “Lovely weather, isn’t it. So swell,” spoke James. Slave nodded, “Yeah, it is.” The hulking bodybuilder turned to the gate and opened it. Leading Slave’s friend onto the grassy path, Slave could hear the Soulem call to Slave. “Wait, that’s a transpecies! You said you didn’t know they existed! There’s one right over there! Your next door neighbor!” accused Master. “He’s not transpecies,” said Slave, “He’s not even a real person.” The Soulem huffed, “What does tha-GAH!” Slave spun around upon hearing Master scream. The Soulem was hunched over; attempting to balance itself from what he just tripped on. “I’m okay...the hell did I trip on?” said Master. Slave gazed down at the object protruding onto the path. Slave could see a flat tire with rusted spokes. Squatting down with the wet spandex package touching the beaten grass, the massive bodybuilder parted the grown grass. The slave replied, “It’s...Slave’s bike.” Master looked at the object. The golden cruiser Slave once rode was now covered in rust. Parts of it, including the handles, had broken off some time ago and had become lost in the sea of grass. Slave left it on the lawn the same day the hulking bodybuilder left Sunnysville after discovering the new powers. Slave wondered how much time passes in Sunnysville. “Geeze, it’s rusted all over and broken into bits. How long did you leave it out?” said the Soulem. Slave answered, “A couple months ago. Right before Slave moved to Skyway City.” “Dude, just what the hell is going on. Nobody here acknowledges my existence, the store interiors are covered in dust, and your old house is the only one that looks like nobody has been in for years. And, my gosh, I can’t even connect to the cloud or usual servers. I’m only finding tidbits of history and current events. There’s not even a year available on the internet calendar! I’m wracking my mind thinking you used to be part of some cult, or you’re from another dimension, or if this is some weird playground kind of deal. You just...You need to tell me now, bro,” said Master. Slave could see the stress and confusion in Master’s eyes. The pain in Slave’s heart upon seeing it felt like a hundred knives stabbing into it. The musclebound bodybuilder tried to carefully ease the Soulem into Sunnysville and its culture, but it was obviously not enough. Slave knew what Slave had to do. The bodybuilder started, “Slave…” “Okay, I’m no longer entertained by this. I wish my previous wish was nulled. Speak normally,” commanded Gemini. The Soulem walked past the slave, as he pulled on the cord of the Dragon Pearls™. The seventh orange ball plopped out of Justice’s hole with a soft, wet noise. Justice groaned from the stretching pleasure, and an increased vacancy within the bodybuilder’s bowels. The glistening pre-ejaculate gushed with an increased flow from his wet, spandex package onto the grassy path. Gemini spoke, “Now c’mon. What’s really up with Sunnysville and all the people and stuff.” Justice paused. He tried to think of the best way to explain it all, but nothing came to mind that sounded acceptable. The musclebound man took a breath and braced himself for the anger Gemini would most likely react to. “Sunnysville...isn’t a real place. It exists in a...I guess you’d call a pocket dimension? And like I told you earlier and before we came here, none of the people here are real,” explained Justice. Gemini frowned, “I thought you were being a total edgelord. Like, because nobody got how you felt and stuff, that they didn’t seem like real people. Or they just seemed happy and well-adjusted all the time.” Justice shook his head, as Gemini’s mood rings transformed to purple. “Naw. They’re all just androids that Hephaestus made. But he did such a rush job making them, that they don’t have any social programming in them. They’re like NPCs. They only say one thing or only say or do something different if you say the right thing. If you don’t follow the script, they freak out. Let me show you,” he replied. Gemini inquired, “Wait, do you mean a guy named Hephaestus or the actual god of fire and blacksmith?” Justice ignored his friend and turned to face his next door neighbor. “Hey, Mr. Wilson,” he called. The moose replied, “Hello there, Justice.” “This is my best friend, Gemini.” pointed Justice. James Wilson immediately reacted like old lady Judy upon hearing Justice speak off-script. His eyes went wide and gazed through Justice. Justice knew the person was not real, but it still hurt the bodybuilder to see it happen. Justice felt the old guilt of hurting a Sunnysville resident when not playing the specific role. The moose spoke, “INPUT CANNOT BE DESIGNATED. DIRECTORY NOT FOUND.” Gemini’s mouth gaped open, as he saw the anthro moose reply. “...Holy shit,” he said. Justice nodded, “Yeah, and I think they only recognize me and my parents as people. I guess that shows how little time Hephaestus had when making all the townsfolk here.” “Oh, and about that other question you asked, it’s the actual god,” he replied. Gemini paused, “Oh.” Justice attempted to give eye contact with his Soulem friend. Filled with so much awkward feelings, it resulted in him staring at the grass. The musclebound bodybuilder clenched his hands, as he forced himself to continue talking. “Yeah...I’m...actually a demigod...or something close to that, I guess. I’m the child of Ares, Aphrodite, and Apollo, and they created me to be a superhero to represent them. And the reason why all three of them got together to make me was to increase my chances of survival, since supervillains are as powerful as them now,” he explained. Gemini spoke up, “That’s...pretty cool. So what does that have to do with you living in Sunnysville?” “A lot, from what my parents told me. It turns out that people who are born with more than one...divinity, I think you’d call it, are pretty powerful. But they have a tendency to become...psychotic and have a short life expectancy,” said Justice. Gemini noted, “And you have three…” “Yep. Three gods that gave me a sliver of their essence to give me life. I mean, I shouldn’t be alive right now. My parents guessed that one of the outcomes would be me literally exploding,” nodded Justice. He continued, “But since I didn’t, that just meant that I would probably go crazy and try killing everyone. So they put me in this pocket dimension and watched over me for over twenty years. The other shoe hasn’t dropped yet, but who knows. I somehow turned out right, and that’s why they let me out.” “Sooo…” hesitated Gemini. Justice interrupted, “What’s kept me stable? I think that it’s cause the essences I was given canceled each other to a weakened point that limited my powers. Kinda why Gilgamesh was stronger than me. But I like to think that it’s cause my parents loved me and tried their best to raise me right. There’s a lot of factors, but I just know that I’m unique and still alive.” “...Shit,” said Gemini. Justice sighed, “Yeah.” “Being here with only your family to actually socialize with and the rest of this world being fake, and you didn’t even know it...Must’ve really fucked you up,” commented Gemini. Justice looked up at the sky, “Especially with nothing ever changing, I guess it did. If it wasn’t for our friendship at stake to distract me, I’d probably be freaking out about your new body. I know I would’ve had a meltdown.” The bodybuilder slowly drew in a long breath; his pectorals lifting upwards. He then let out a quiet exhale, as he remembered something else. The musclebound slave mentioned, “Hm, ya know, I didn’t even know superheroes or magic existed. I just thought they were comic book stuff.” Gemini stared up at his friend with his mouth agape once again. The husky Soulem threw his hands up in intense bewilderment. “...Why?!” questioned Gemini, “It defeats the very purpose of making you into a superhero! Unless...they weren’t trying to inspire you to leave.” Justice shrugged, “Who knows. I’ve forgiven them for what they did to me. Don’t get me wrong, I really wanted to be angry and destroy everything here. But...They were just doing what they thought was right. They didn’t know any better. And I still love them. It might’ve been lonely here, but at least they were always with me. Plus...I’m also afraid I might never come back if I go off the deep end.” “And it makes no sense when I say this that...I hate this place, but I still love it here. It’s predictable here. Familiar. No fights. No stores suddenly closing. And nobody is changing. I can still remember some happy memories here, and all the good times I tried to create...I never realized how suffocating it is to live here,” he continued. Gemini inquired, “Well...did you ever come back here when the real world got too much to handle?” Justice thought back to all the times he laid in bed; staring at the silver key. How every time he passed his closet, the temptation of magically using it would eat at him. But every time it did, all he had to do was think back to his experiences in the real world. All the new friends he was able to make, and all the new things he was able to try. “This is actually the first time I’ve been back, since I came to the real world. It was always so tempting to come back here whenever I was upset at something. But deep down...I knew that if I ever came back here, I’d probably stay here for good. And if it wasn’t for you, Gem, I’d also stop being Justice,” replied the bodybuilder. Gemini cupped his chin, “...Yeah, I guess compared to how Marvelous Man is a blank book, you could be whatever you wanted.” “Pretty much. Anyway, let’s head inside. I’m kinda hoping my family have some leftover cookie cake slices in the fridge,” said Justice. Gemini sighed, “Okay.” Heading to the front door, the Soulem placed his hand on the knob. Gemini swung it open without hesitation, while the color of his mood rings changed to green. The husky Soulem immediately recoiled; clutching at his mouth and nose. “Oh my gosh! What the hell is that smell?!” he choked. As Justice began to lumber over to his friend, he was hit with a foul stench. It smelled like mold and rotting fruit. The musclebound bodybuilder staggered back from the vomit-inducing scent. He dared to peek at the entryway and spotted small objects covering most of the ground. Some of the objects were mashed into the ground, while others were still round. One thing Justice was certain was that they were all engulfed by fungus. He coughed, “I think those are Mr. Wilson’s muffins.” Gemini clamped his hand back onto the doorknob and pulled with abrupt force. The door slammed shut; closing off the waft of disgusting odor. “Why the fuck is your house hoarded up with his muffins?!” gasped the Soulem. Justice panted, “He...leaves them in my house...every Friday. But since…-” “Yeah, I get it. Nobody was around to eat them and they got this bad...Does this dimension exist out of time or something?” interrupted Gemini. With the nasty stench out of his lungs, Justice was able to stand up straight. He tried to remember what his family said to him about Sunnysville. The bodybuilder recalled, “I think so. My dad said this place is like a hyperbolic time chamber.” Gemini turned to the overly-muscular slave, as his mood rings became purple. “So, like, ‘a year in here is a day out there’ sort of thing?” he surmised. Justice shrugged, “I guess. That was the best answer they could give me.” “Wow...they really treated you like a tv dinner. Just stuck you in here and set it to nuke. Presto-chango, they now have their superhero ready to fit in with the modern times,” commented Gemini. The Soulem motioned his hands as if he were performing a magic trick. He fluttered his hands about to express a flashy explosion. The herculean slave giggled, “Yeah, I think that’s how it was when it started out. But I know that my mom for sure stopped thinking about that the moment I was born. Probably my dad too. I remembered that he told me that I was the most perfect baby he’s ever seen. Which is the biggest compliment, since he’s...hehe, a pretty big narcissist. And for Papa-” “I’m guessing that’s Ares?” said Gemini. Justice nodded, “Yeah. He kinda put me on a spartan regimen where I was constantly exercising every day and was taught about war tactics. But when he pushed me too hard and caused my knee to dislocate when I was nine...I think that was when he realized I was his kid and not a soldier. Since then, he’d spoil me and train me at my pace.” “But that’s when my dad, Apollo, had to become the strict parent. He’d try to teach me about discipline of the self when performing art or bodybuilding and tried to teach me values by putting me in the boy scouts.” he continued. The Soulem laughed, “Pfff, hah! Boyscouts?!...Actually that does make some sense about you. Such a damn gentleman all the time.” The musclebound bodybuilder smiled. It felt relieving to talk to someone about his life, and it was with someone he trusted. He did not expect Gemini to take everything so well, but it was nice to see his friend still accepted him. With such a secret no longer a burden, a calming euphoria washed over Justice. A thought crossed his mind that if he was trapped in Sunnysville with Gemini, he’d be alright with such a predicament. “It’s all I know,” shrugged Justice. Gemini looked up at his friend, while his mood ring color became sky blue. He smiled, “Welp, we can’t go in there. Anywhere else you want to show me?” “Hmmm...wanna go to the beach?” suggested Justice. Gemini nodded, “Sure, I’m game for that.” The hulking slave took lead; heading towards the beach with Gemini holding onto his anal leash. Justice thought it was nice to be the one who knew things instead of feeling like a cultural imbecile. “It’s too bad we couldn’t go inside, so I could show you my room. My walls are racked with bodybuilding trophies and all my martial art belts and stuff. Got some classic video games too,” he mused. Gemini teased, “I bet you had a race car bed too.” “I actually do. King-sized and with a waterbed mattress,” grinned Justice. Gemini remarked, “...That’s awesome.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The sky had started to take on an orange hue, as the sun began to set. Seagulls could be heard cawing; mixing with the sound of clear, blue waves crashing onto the sand. At this time, the fake people always playing on the beach were packing up to go. On the black boardwalk, a level above the sand, the two were leaving an ice cream cart with delights in their hands. Both of them carried a waffle ice cream cone with a large scoop of strawberry cheesecake flavor. As the best friend duos licked and bit into their treats, they settled onto the edge of the boardwalk. “Oh my gosh. This is so weird!” exclaimed Gemini, “Not the ice cream. It’s so fucking delicious. But even though this is my first ice cream, I get, like...a nostalgic feel from it. It’s both a new and reminiscent feeling I’m getting from eating this.” Justice watched his friend’s black tongue lap at the ice cream and its cheesecake chunk contents. He could not help but be confused at what he was seeing. “So I know this is going to be really obvious when I say this, since I ordered for you. But you can eat now?” he asked. The Soulem shrugged, “Yeah. I have an organic converter in me that burns food into energy. That way, it’s the first reserves I’ll use up, so I won’t have to plug in that often. Plus, it’s pretty therapeutic for Soulems. Helps us take part in the social interaction of human meal time, and it feels really nice to chew and taste.” “Oh...does that mean you poop now too?” said Justice. Gemini smiled, “Nnnnope! Unless, it’s a fetish thing, I don’t got that porthole installed. And cause I’m one-hundred percent top. But yeah, my organic converter creates no waste other than a vapor exhaust.” Justice flexed an eyebrow in confusion, while licking his ice cream. “Meaning?” he said. The bulky Soulem held up his white finger to signal his unavailability to give a verbal answer at that moment. Having finished all of the ice cream exposed above the cone, Gemini began to bite into the waffle cone. He rapidly bit into the cone and chewed his mouthful contents; finishing the sweet snack in seconds. After swallowing the last of it, Gemini paused. A second later, he emitted a loud belch. The Soulem smiled, while flexing his eyebrows several times. He held up his hand to display his face; signifying the answer to Justice’s question. The bodybuilder grinned, “Hehe, that’s cool.” “Not as cool as you,” replied Gemini. The Soulem’s eyes went wide and immediately looked away. His mood ring color had now flashed to pink, as Gemini stared intensely on the ocean in front of the two. He swallowed, “I just wanted to say...I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting like a sexual predator. And that I got angry at you. I get it now. The ignorance and stuff.” Gemini formed a fist with both hands and began to lightly pound them together. “And...I need to come clean about something else. My upgrade was supposed to be a surprise for you, because...I wanted to tell you something...That...you were what caused my awakening,” he admitted. Justice continued to bite into his ice cream at a slow pace. He could feel his heartbeat rise, but he did not want to confirm to himself what his trepidation was about. The Soulem continued, “And as you know, awakenings for a Soulem can happen from experiencing lust or love or other complex emotions. And after you were showing off your silver thong, I felt a thirst...B-basically, I was horny. But...later, after I realized what I went through...I still couldn’t get you out of my head.” “I felt this need to...be...with you. It wasn’t about sex anymore. For the first time, I actually felt lonely not living with you and having to go back to the D.A.B. to recharge and stuff. And I wanted to do more with you. To...hear you laugh. To see you smile. To hold you when you cry...To hold your hand and feel the very atoms and heartbeat of you...I realized that...that…” he hesitated. The husky Soulem stopped bouncing his fists together and gripped the edge of the pavement. Gemini slowly turned his face to Justice with the mood rings emitting a rose red color. A clear lubricant began to collect on the edges of the Soulem’s digital eyes. He confessed, “I love you.” Blood thumped in a deafening rhythm in Justice’s head. He could feel his manhood inflating and straining against the spandex that encased it. He felt happy...then scared...then something else. A spring of different emotions converging at once overwhelmed the bodybuilder’s psyche. Without realizing it, his body reacted to the sudden emotional stress. Justice scrambled to stand up; dropping the ice cream in the process. Taking a leap forward, he attempted to sprint as fast as his musclebound body could move. As he managed to take two steps forward, the Dragon Pearls™ magically bound to his pumped anus yanked on the ring attached to Gemini’s finger. The Soulem was immediately dragged across the ground. “OW. OW. OWWW!!!” cried Gemini. A second after being pulled onto the pavement, the silver ring came off of Gemini’s digit. The overly-muscular slave instantly froze in place; stuck in a running pose. The bulky Soulem pushed himself up and stomped towards the inanimate Justice. Gemini’s mood ring transformed to orange. He shouted, “Fatherf-BITCH, DID YOU JUST TRY TO BOLT ON ME?!” “I’m sorry,” whimpered Justice, “...I didn’t know what to do, and I just freaked out...it’s what I do when I’m really mad or stressed. If I was Marvelous Man, I could’ve handled it better...” Gemini exclaimed, “Maybe just say that you’re not into me?! I mean, it sure as shit would’ve hurt a lot less than being pulled across the pavement! Which, by the way, not cool, bro!” Justice remained silent, as the Soulem finally caught up to the musclebound slave seconds later. Gemini walked around Justice and stationed himself in front of the hulking bodybuilder. Justice could not look his friend in the eye and remained staring at his mammoth pecshelf. “...I couldn’t say that to you...because...that’s not how I feel. Being here with you...I felt...happy. I didn’t feel trapped. And you tried your best to understand me. It’s...one of the reasons I like about you...You’re an ass for being honest all the time, but you listen to me. You actually want to know me other than how much I can lift or if I’m a top. I feel like we have a lot of similarities, and it’s nice to know that I don’t feel like an outcast when I’m with you,” said Justice. Gemini huffed, “Thennn, why not just take it slow, and we, ya know, date.” The hulking bodybuilder wanted to immediately say yes. His voice began to rise in agreement, but the image of Gene Lightfoot instantly materialized in his mind. His heart felt torn. He wanted to be with Gemini, but he was giving his work partner a chance at love. The idea of keeping such a fact secret from the Soulem popped up. But doing such a thing would eat at Justice’s conscious for the rest of his life. “I would...but...I’m already dating Gene,” answered Justice. The Soulem frowned, “Wait...that illiterate bunny man? Fffff-of course you would. Who wouldn’t with all that erotic emotion he is literally emitting.” “Hey! Don’t say that about him! Of course he can read, and that’s not why I’m seeing him,” spat Justice. Gemini pointed at his head, “Uh, no he can’t. Those rabbit ears of his only translates oral language. Anything wrote down is chicken scratch to him. I should know, I was the one who was told to set the language on his electronic scroll to his native language. But surprise, surprise. A country that is closed off to outsiders, and its language that isn’t widespread, isn’t available on any digital format.” Justice thought back to all the times Gene did not or refused the opportunity to read. There was the time the bunny demigod did not use their personal scroll to review information sent by Fairuza. Then there was the first date the two had. The rabbit superhero looked perplexed by the English menu at the Toto’s restaurant and decided to order whatever Marvelous Man chose. At the art museum, Gene asked Marvelous Man to read the placards out loud...Even though it added up, Justice felt it was still not a nice thing for Gemini to say. The hulking bodybuilder looked at Gemini. Realizing his friend was a robot, Justice figured there should have been more than one way to fix the language issue with Gene’s digital scroll. “But…” said Justice, “Can’t you just modify-” “I’m not that kind of Soulem, dammit! I don’t have the mind of a computer programmer, and I can’t ‘ghost’ myself into the coding! Just-fuck. Getting off track. Just...why? Why are you into him if it’s supposedly not for sex?!” shouted Gemini. The overly-muscular slave thought back to the personal interactions with the bunny demigod. Gene was a super strong superhero that had an abundance of beautiful physical features. But the rabbit superhero never let his powers inflate his ego and approached everything with gentleness when it did not involve lewd practices. He always seemed calm and happy but never hid his sad and pained side whenever he interacted with Marvelous Man. The only times he was truly angry was upon witnessing any injustice. He was a model superhero in Justice’s eyes: flawed, empowered, and kind. Justice explained, “He’s...a nice guy. He cares about the people nobody wants to pay attention to. And he’s really strong too. But I also understand his pain. That he has to be here to find better things in life, but nothing ever feels like it can be a second home. He might seem shallow, cause he likes sex...a lot. But he’s much deeper than that. People don’t care to know more about him once they get what they want from him...which is banging him. We’re different in a lot of ways, but we’re able to share our frustrations together.” “I’m sorry, Gemini. I didn’t think of you in a romantic way until now, cause...I was just happy with the way things are. But…” he continued. Gemini proposed, “Then date both of us. I’m...I can do a polyamorous thing. I mean, you got a big enough bed to fit all of us and stuff.” It sounded like a perfect fantasy in Justice’s mind. His giant memory-foam mattress with all three laying naked on it. He’d be sandwiched in between his two lovers with Gene on his right and Gemini on his left and holding both their hands. The threesomes they would have would be legendary, and he would be able to share his love with both of them. But whenever he would give Gene attention, he would feel those mood rings burning into his back with a radioactive green. “It wouldn’t work out. I know you’d get jealous. Wouldn’t be right if I put you through that,” sighed Justice. He requested, “Just...just give me two weeks. By then, I’ll have it figured out.” Gemini paused. His eyes darted left and rights, as if he were mulling over what Justice had asked of him. “Did he even say he loved you? Or at least like you?” questioned the Soulem. The hulking bodybuilder thought back to all of his interactions with Gene Lightfoot. The only reason the bunny demigod went out on a date with Justice, was because Gene thought it would be fun. They shared tender moments together, and the Totochtin prince said he was on the same best friend level as Director Doug. And the kiss the two had...was it really only Justice that enjoyed it? He hesitated, “I mean...we ha-” “Answer the question, Justice. Yes or no?” interjected Gemini. Justice paused, “...no.” The Soulem huffed, as he turned around. Back facing Justice, Gemini crossed his arms. His body lightly swayed about for a few seconds before facing back to Justice. The Soulem’s face showed resignation, while throwing his arms up in an exaggerated fashion. “Fine. Whatever. Have your two weeks. But don’t expect me to be surprised, if I’m not as receptive to when you finally come around. I’m only agreeing to this, cause I love you,” he said. Justice dryly swallowed, “I’m sorry. I really am. This is the first time I’ve ever had to deal with this…with love and the complex stuff, I mean.” “Yeah, yeah. Join the club. Let’s just go now. I’ve learned your origin story, so let’s get out of this town simulator.” frowned Gemini. Justice’s eyes darted about, “Ummm, I’d like to, but I kinda need you to...ya know.” “Oh...right,” said Gemini. Walking around the petrified, musclebound slave, Gemini stopped behind Justice’s basketball-sized glutes. The bulky Soulem leaned down and reached underneath the perfectly round buttocks. He grabbed an orange sphere that was dangling outside of the bodybuilder’s donut-shaped hole and stood up. He commanded, “I wish...that you couldn’t remove a tattoo I put on you.” Justice looked over his shoulder. “Huh?” said Justice, “That’s a weird thing to-GYAH!!!” Next Chapter
  5. Some days you just want to sleep. Wizard World has a way of sapping you of your energy, especially after hours of signings and Q&A sessions. Yeah, you're being worshipped and catered to, but sometimes you just want to sleep. Ian Somerhalder had planned to do just that, arriving at his hotel room after hours on the convention floor. He was alone for a rare con, with people like Paul off shooting their own projects. That meant for a very lonely hotel room, and as much as he needed the quiet time, he missed having some companionship. The actor unlocked his hotel room door and coasted in, clad in a leather jacket over a black v-neck and distressed gray denim. He took a breath as he closed the door, the light in his room on and the bed looking awfully welcoming. With a loud flop, Ian collapsed onto the bed beneath him and took a few deep breaths, when he felt a hard, solid object against his ribs. Annoyed, he rolled onto his side to find a black box sitting on the bed, blending in with the black bedspread. Expecting chocolates or a typical hotel freebie, he rolled onto his back and opened the lid to find a white card, simply reading “From a fan.” Immediately, Ian is taken aback. He's used to getting gifts, but rarely does he ever open them. He certainly didn't expect to find one in his bed. Rolling his eyes, he tossed the card aside and saw a bright blue pillow of fabric nestled in the box. Tugging the blue object out, the fabric unfurls as a sheepish grin crosses Ian's face. Bright teal underwear, silky and cool to the touch. But unlike most of the underwear he receives, these look like they're actually made for men. Taking a closer look, he realized the straps of the underwear taper to a string in the back and thin strips on the sides, with a substantial pouch… a thong. “Well shit.” Ian smirked as he twiddled with the slick fabric. He paused for a second before sitting up on the bed and shucking his jacket. He pauses once more, considering what he's about to do… he's never worn a thong before, though the desire for some spicier undergarments had certainly come up in the past. His shoes come off next, and he unbuckles his jeans and pulls them down. His black briefs bulge generously, half hard with oddly sexual excitement over the new undergarment. His thighs are lean and rounded, body shaved for another season of TVD. Ian kicks off his denim and stands up, grabs his briefs by the lip and tugs them down. Off goes his briefs, his erection growing and swaying as he steps between the straps of the thong. Ian shudders as the blue fabric is pulled up his thighs, the back strap digging between his tight asscheeks, his cock brushing against the fabric, ballsack barely covered by the skimpy pouch. He's fully hard now, his cut member close to eight inches in length, the head peeking against the top lip of the thong. He reaches down and strokes the head, chuckling, and pulls his shirt off to leave him in nothing but his new underwear. Turning to the hotel room's full-length mirror, Ian turns slightly to look at his pert, toned ass in the mirror. He struts a bit, watching his reflection, and chuckles at the sight of him clad in nothing but the teal pouch and strap. A jolt of sudden pain rockets through Ian's stomach and chest as he doubles over, moaning as his eyes widen. The sharp pain spreads from his abdomen up his chest and down his legs, his muscles seizing up as looks back into the mirror, his skin becoming pale as he lets out a loud groan. He jolts back, his chest jutting out, veins pulsing down his neck and spreading across his arms, his breathing becoming harried as he struggles to move. With another jolt, his left arm begins to pulse, the veins pumping furiously as his toned bicep begins to throb and flex. The smooth, rounded surface of his right bicep swells cartoonishly, inflating with new mass. His triceps swells to match, his forearms ballooning outward as his knuckles crack and flex. Ian watches in awe and horror as his right arm explodes with size, his eyes wide, sweat beginning to bead down his forehead.. With a similar jolt, his left arm cracks and stiffens as it too begins to hulk out. His shoulders crack as his neck begins to thicken, his lean back starting to broaden as his traps flare outward and bulge with new size. His deltoids expand to large rounded shapes that taper down toward his chest. His lats inflate as massive veins pulse down the length of his arms and across his chest, his balance failing as he tries to get his footing. Ian begins to gasp as his chest expands outward, his back still throbbing with growth as his lean pecs are stretched across the growing width of his chest, his breath inflating the growing lungs deep within his straining body. His pecs begin to surge forth, swelling into massive rounded slabs, nipples erect and forced to point downward beneath the thick size of his melon-like pectorals. Staring back at the mirror. Ian was a freakish picture of contrast. His upper body was herculean, tapering down to his lean, normal legs and thighs. His cock had certainly reacted, dark spots forming in his underwear as precum begins to ooze from his stimulated member. Ian placed his hands on his expanded pecs, feeling their firmness and warmth, in awe. Ian's abdominal muscles, still taut from the strenuous growth of his upper body, begin to crunch and contort. The smooth six-pack tightens as Ian's spine cracks, his growing back muscles stretching as his body begins to inch upward with new height. His abs thicken, growing blocky and stiff down his stomach as the cartoonish taper to his lower body broadens into a wider, straight, squared shape. Rigid obliques frame his strong stomach as his modest Adonis belt deepens into a cut V shape over his thighs. His cock begins to throb violently, pushing upward against the lip of his thong as his glutes envelope the string of his thong with beefy size. Inches of new cock length push out of his pouch, expanding up his abs and smearing them with precum, curving to the right as it gains new girth to match. Ian's balls churn and swell as precum pumps from his expanding musclecock, causing the actor to moan even louder. Still struggling to maintain his balance, Ian shuffles around as his lean thighs begin to balloon outward, throbbing and shifting into thick trunks of strength and mass in an exaggerated diamond shape. Divots and grooves run the length of the monstrous leg muscles as they meet in the middle, pushing Ian's pouched balls forward as his beefy quads push together. Groaning, Ian reaches down and grabs his cock, a spurt of precum rocketing from the red head of his stimulated member. He jerks furiously as his knees buckle, calves rippling with expanding size as they become thick and rounded in shape. Fisting his cock furiously, Ian leans against the mirror in his new godly bodybuilder size and groans, his eyes closing once more as he's lost in the sudden lust that accompanied his transformation. Unbeknownst to Ian, an uninvited guest had been waiting in the bathroom. A godly frame sat in the shadows, stroking his cock through a crimson thong. The strong brow and jaw of Calum von Moger comes into view behind Ian as the actor pumps his cock, to which Calum licks his lips. “Need some help big guy?” Calum strokes his own leaking member as Ian looks up at the younger bodybuilder. Calum was more proportional in size compared to Ian's inhuman mass, something Calum had planned all along. “Who… who the fuck are you?” Ian freezes as he watches the younger man, refusing to unlatch from his rigid cock. “A fan. You liked your gift right?” Calum strolls toward Ian, smiling as he tugs his thong down and lets his cock free. He places a hand on Ian's warm broad back. “I thought you could use the extra poundage. You're looking hot as fuck, by the way.” Calum presses his hard cock against Ian's massive thigh, his hot breath now against Ian's right ear. Calum's body is glistening with sweat and tanned in a way Ian's pale body is not, highlighting Calum's more aesthetic musculature. “It… feels so good, fuck...” Ian groans as he begins to stroke again, his free hand kneading his broad pecs. “Give me a flex, stud.” Calum pulls his right arm into a pose, his thick biceps tightening into broad mounds. Ian follows the pro's advice and pulls his free arm into a flex, watching in awe as his swollen biceps ball into massive rounded peaks. Calum chuckles and grabs a handful of Ian's thick chest, thumbing the actor's large nipples. “All the mass with none of the work, but a little bit of gyno for authenticity. You sensitive?” Calum tweaks Ian's nipples as Ian moans, unlatching from his cock as it pulses out another load of “Fuck… FUCK...” Ian bellows as Calum touches his body, feeling the pro's hands begin to roam around his enhanced frame. Ian returns the favor, placing his hands on Calum's broad shoulders and stroking downward towards his rounded pecs. The two men reposition themselves to face eachother as Calum's eleven-inch muscle dick pushes against Ian's pouch. “Free the python stud. You should be a match.” Ian reaches cautiously into his thong and tugs his hard cock out, and the two muscular members collide with a wet slap causing shudders of pleasure from both men. “God you're gorgeous. I figured you'd make a sexy fucking muscle stud.” Calum places a warm hand on Ian's shoulder as Ian feels a warm grip around his cock, the slick surface of Calum's member now sliding against it. Calum grips on the two rods and fists them slowly, his hand moving to Ian's still very handsome jaw and face. “Wait… I saw you at the con.” Ian squints slightly, trying to place Calum. “You had the Spartan costume on.” “You said I had better tits than most of the ladies at the con.” “And now I get them up close and personal.” Ian moves his hands down to Calum's pecs, feeling their thickness as Calum bounces them for Ian. “Fun party trick. Hot.” “You should get your cock between them. My treat.” Ian nods as Calum falls backward onto the bed with a loud thud, the bed creaking beneath his mass. He tugs his thong down and tosses it at Ian, who inhales the pro bodybuilder's musk. “Jesus fuck.” Ian grunts as he pulls his own thong down and rears up onto the bed, straddling Calum's legs as he slides across the man's sweaty upper body. Ian presses his cock between Calum's pecs as Calum flexes and bounces them around his length, causing Ian to moan and thrust against his chest. Ian's glutes flex as they shift across Calum's abdominal muscles, Calum's hard cock occasionally meeting Ian's backside and stringing precum between the two. “Fuck… i'm gonna cum just from this, holy shit...” Ian moans as his thrusts become stronger, sliding his wet cock back and forth between Calum's big pecs, only to shudder and grunt as a massive rope of hot cum erupts from his engorged cock and splatters across Calum's cheeks and forehead, globs of cum splattering in Calum's hair and dripping down the aussie's chin and neck. The immense volume of Ian's orgasm surprises even Calum as he shuts his eyes, feeling the volleys of Ian's cum streaming across his lips and against his nose. Ian slides backwards, Calum's dripping cock pulled between Ian's glutes as the bigger man takes a few heavy breaths, recovering from his orgasm. Calum opens his mouth and licks his lips, tasting Ian's seed as he thrusts his cock between Ian's asscheeks. Ian grinds against the younger man's cock, smearing trails of white seed against Calum's abs as the two begin to make out. Calum's hands wrap around Ian's neck as they kiss, moaning as Calum thrusts against Ian's ass. “You wanna seal the deal?” Ian breaks their kiss as he tightens his ass around Calum's erection. “More than you know.” Calum nods in approval as Ian relaxes his ass, pulling forward as Calum begins to push his hard cock between Ian's glutes, probing at the actor's hole. “This isn't my first, don't go easy on me.” Ian goes back to kissing Calum as the pro begins to penetrate the actor, Ian's tight hole parting as Calum forces his rigid dick inside of Ian. Ian groans and thrusts forward from the sensation, biting his lip as Calum's wet cock begins to piston into him. Ian pushes back, working into a rhythm of opposing thrusts as they make out furiously. “Let me ride your cock, fuck...” Ian cranes upward and slides back, taking Calum's full length inside of him as Calum watches the handsome actor ride his thick muscle cock. “Flex for me stud, let me see that new muscle!” Calum groans as he rocks back and forth beneath Ian, watching the older man ride him and feeling his release coming. Ian pulls his arms into classic bodybuilding poses, groaning as his hard cock bobs in sync with his cock riding, his thick frame casting a shadow over Calum as the younger man's cock hits his prostate and cum bubbles from his overstimulated cock. “I'm… ohhh fuck, OH FUCK...” Calum moans and thrusts his chest up as he cums inside Ian, hot spurts of thick cum rocketing deep into Ian's hole as Ian tightens his thick glutes around Calum's rod, bouncing his pecs and flexing his bis as he rides out Calum's orgasm. The deep groans of the two men echo through the hotel room as Calum's cumshots slow, and Ian leans forward and goes back to kissing Calum as the Australian’s cock throbs within him. The two men embrace, Ian's wet cock sandwiched between their abs as they doze off to sleep.
  6. EcchiMultiverse

    Marvelous Man - Chapter 16

    All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1O52F8UJS70fDmrK2gYawUXBtklu8IEUwpOdaOZrPuoM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1O52F8UJS70fDmrK2gYawUXBtklu8IEUwpOdaOZrPuoM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN Chapter 16: Wrongs, Rights, and Rimming? Marvelous Man’s reality felt like it was becoming undone. He had been careful to balance his two different lives without raising any suspicion from his friends and teammates. Adrenaline kept accelerating his heart rate with the sound of pumping blood raging in his ears, and it took every ounce of the musclebound superhero’s will to keep his breath steady. There were plenty of questions racing through his mind, but one statement drowned out the inquiries: SHIT!!! In one huge reveal, Gemini now had a new body that was exotically erotic and masculine. Apparently, he had also been employed by the D.A.B. to act as the team’s new member as a technician. But the one thing Marvelous Man hoped would not happen is Gemini recognizing Justice in his alter ego. The probability of that happening at this very moment can be compared to pulling a pin out of a grenade and not exploding. Gemini had just subtly outed Marvelous Man, while offering a handshake. There was no other choice but to keep playing along in order to keep up face. Marvelous Man accepted the handshake; gripping it with caution. The muscle demigod could feel Gemini squeezing hard enough that it felt like his hand was going to turn into a diamond. This would become the second time today his hand would be crushed. He strained back a smile. Marvelous Man stammered, “R-really? What a coimidam-I mean, coincidence.” “Yeah, I bet,” grinned Gemini. The Director sipped his glass of sweet tea before continuing. “Marvelous Man, I’ll need you to debrief Mr. Yin here about our current situation with the Skeleton Lord,” Director Skye ordered,” As for you, Gene, I’ll need you with me when we start interrogating our petrified guest. I supposed he will respond better with you in his visual vicinity.” “Understood,” bowed Gene. Director Doug turned to Fairuza. He drawled, “Fairuza, I’ll need you to help record our interrogation. Maybe you can find something whatever Gilgamesh spills to get us a better idea about our skeletal problem. Especially with how he is associated with that fiend and how he managed to keep his youth.” “Yes, sir. Of course,” replied Fairuza. The Director smiled, “Splendid. Now if y’all excuse me, we still have about two hours left before our guest thaws out, and I will be taking my lunch.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Being dismissed from Director Skye’s office, Marvelous Man and Gemini made their way towards the elevator. Neither said a word, but Marvelous Man was too aware of the tension between them. It was seconds after they entered the elevator and it closing behind them, that he tried to break the ice. “So…” said Marvelous Man, “uhhh, as the Director told you, we’re dealing with the Skele-” “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a superhero?” interrupted Gemini. Marvelous Man paused, “I...am a superhero. Is my outfit not cl-” “DON’T! Bullshit with me, Justice! I know it’s you. I have facial recognition software like every other Soulem!” exclaimed Gemini. He continued, “I mean, at least have the decency to put on a mask or something. You can blend in with the crowds of other giant black bodybuilders in this city, but that can only fool human eyes.” The muscle demigod said nothing. Marvelous Man stared down at the ground; incapable of making any eye contact with his Soulem friend. The elevator dinged as it passed the fourth floor. “When we first met, you told me you were a trust-fund baby and was in between jobs,” recanted Gemini. Marvelous Man answered, “...That wasn’t a lie...at the time. After I met you that same day, the D.A.B. hired me to become a full-time hero. Before that, I had just got my superhero license and was patrolling as a hobby.” “Oh...Still, why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were friends...maybe even best friends,” frowned Gemini. The husky Soulem’s mood rings turned to a deep blue. Marvelous Man looked up at his best friend. It struck a chord in his heart to hear someone openly validate their friendship with the bodybuilder superhero. “We are! It’s just that...I mean...I wanted to protect you and my loved ones. I don’t want my enemies to know about you and hurt you, Gemini,” explained Marvelous Man. Gemini looked at Marvelous Man with a face of bewilderment, while his mood rings turned grey. He exclaimed, “What kind of fatherfucking logic is that?! Did your understanding of the world come from an old-timey comic book or something?! I ‘supposedly’ have close relations to the you that is Justice fatherfucking Starr. Because of that, I have to know your superhero alter ego, so that I can prepare myself in the event that your well-known enemies try to get the drop on your civilian life by targeting me.” The elevator dinged again, as it passed by the third floor. Mood rings flashing red, Gemini crossed his arms. “You’re doing more harm than good. You’re not helping. You’re just being selfish,” he lectured. Marvelous Man’s vision began to turn murky, as he could feel something building up in his eyes. He clenched his fists. He was a superhero. Superheroes do not cry. They must be a symbol of unwavering strength. But…the fear of losing the only friend Justice had and the sadness of betraying Gemini’s trust felt more painful than Gilgamesh breaking his entire hand. He choked a whisper, “...I’m sorry…” Gemini stared into the muscle demigod’s eyes. As he did so, the Soulem’s mood rings’ color shifted into white. His hand slowly drifted to Marvelous Man’s until it hesitated halfway. Changing direction, Gemini placed his hand on the bodybuilder superhero’s bulging shoulder. “...I care about you, Justice. You’re the only friend around here that I have, and I barely know you. Please...tell me the truth. Just everything...anything at all...Please,” he sighed. Marvelous Man closed his eyes to prevent any seeping liquids. He could barely hear the elevator’s ding of descending passed the second floor. The musclebound superhero sobbed, “...Okay.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Soon after Marvelous Man calmed down, the two relocated themselves at Marvelous Man’s apartment. Marvelous Man did not leave as Justice earlier that day, so the he had to enter the premise through the roof access. The muscle demigod then fished a silver key out of his pocket while making his way down the steps. “Ya know, I think this is the first time I’ve been on your roof. We should go swimming on your roof’s pool before fall sets in,” mentioned Gemini. Marvelous Man nodded, “Yeah, sure. I’ve never dipped in there yet.” “That’s a shame. Too much time taken up from superheroing?” inquired Gemini. Marvelous Man answered, “Yeah, and cause I spend all my free time hanging out with you. You kinda had a fragile body back then, so that’s why all we did was walk around the mall and watch anime.” The Soulem’s mood ring flashed to pink, while he flustered. “Oh...Well...thanks for being considerate,” replied Gemini. The muscle demigod smiled, “No problem.” Marvelous Man then stopped in front of his living room closet. He briefly remember his first time arriving in the real world through there. While the process of going to another world felt somewhat magical, crossing over and arriving into the real world was so instant and tame. The bodybuilder superhero place the silver key into the door’s lock; jangling an ice cream sundae with a cherry on top keychain attached to the silver key. “Soooo, are you gonna tell me who you are and stuff? Cause I assumed you brought me back to your apartment, cause you’d feel more comfortable dishing it here...did I really just say that?” said Gemini. Marvelous Man turned to Gemini, as the Soulem’s mood ring changed to white. He spoke, “I do, but I have to show you something first before I can explain everything about me. I promise it’ll make sense once I do. Just let me change before I show you.” Raising his arms above his head, the muscle demigod placed his golden bracelets on top of the other. Marvelous Man chanted, “Marvelous Muscle Magic, Metamorph!!!” The bodybuilder superhero was instantly transported into his transformation void. After having to do it countless times to maintain his double life, he no longer dreaded it. The feelings from the transportation and assailing on his erogenous zones were at first annoyance, then numbness, and finally accepting it and enjoying the teasing pleasures. His heroic outfit exploded like shattered glass; leaving his musclebound body floating nude in the void. This was then followed by silver paint slapping at his glutes and groin. His muscular globes jiggled in every direction, as silver fabric began to form. Once the hulking man’s silver thong fully materialized, the transformation vacuum collapsed. Justice landed gently on his large feet. Taking a breath to appreciate the pleasurable transformation, Justice could feel his sex at half mast. The bodybuilder looked at his handsome Soulem friend and noticed the bulging movements in Gemini’s zaffre fundoshi. Justice’s mouth began to water, as his thoughts wondered about his friend’s robotic penis. He then realized that Gene’s hypersexuality was starting to seep into his personality. “So...you have to say that every time to transform?” coughed Gemini. Justice sighed, “Yeah. At first it was kinda embarrassing to say, but I got used to it.” The musclebound man attempted to change the subject in the hopes of distracting his thoughts and changing Gemini’s dark red mood ring. “Did I ever tell you where I came from?” asked Justice. Gemini lightly nodded his head, as his mood ring’s color turned into purple. The Soulem recalled, “Yeah, you said you came from Sunnysville?” “Uh-huh. And I want to take you there. It’ll make sense once I show you, I swear,” said Justice. Gemini’s mood ring flashed grey, as he gave Justice a confused look. He replied, “Oookaaay...Like, right now? What, we gonna use teleportation magic or…?” The Soulem tilted his head, while his eyes gazed upon the silver key in the closet’s lock. His mood ring immediately shifted to a purple. “Wait a sec! Are we gonna walk through your closet like that magical wardrobe?!” inquired Gemini. Justice could see the curious giddy in his friend’s digital eyes. The bodybuilder replied, “Ummm, I’m not sure what you’re referencing to. But yeah, we’re gonna be walking through my closet.” Gemini’s white eyes dilated like a cat enraptured by euphoric catnip. “Oh my gosh, dimensional magic?! I am going to flip if you’re telling the-uhhh...wh-what are you doing?” stammered the Soulem. During Gemini’s flabbergast, Justice had bent down in an attempt to take off his silver thong. He continued to slide it down his tree-trunk thighs while looking up. The musclebound man noticed his robotic friend’s mood ring began to constantly fluctuate between pink, grey, and dark red. He replied, “Hm? Oh, I’m just taking these off. Nobody in Sunnysville is real, so it doesn’t matter if I’m naked. You can take yours off too, if you want.” “I’m, uh, I’m good,” said Gemini. As the Soulem watched his overly muscular friend pull the silver thong down to the ankles, his mood ring color shifted to black. A wicked smile crept on his silver face. Gemini spoke up, “Soooo, if you’re not gonna wear anything, mind if ya let me dress you?” The hulking bodybuilder stood up and kicked away his thong. He then looked at the husky android with a puzzled face; unsure if he heard his friend right. “Huh?” said Justice. Gemini pressed, “Just saying. It doesn’t matter if you’re not wearing anything, since you said the people aren’t real...which is a really weird thing to say-Sorry, getting off topic. But c’mon, let me dress you. It’s not like you can be embarrassed.” Justice had never seen the Soulem’s mood ring take on a black hue, but he knew it could not be good. His instinct told him that something was amiss and to say no. But he felt like he would be letting down his friend again if he refused. The bodybuilder already hurt Gemini’s feelings once today and did not wish to do it again. “Okay,” he sighed. Gemini replied, “Great! I’ll be right back!” As the beefy Soulem’s mood ring color changed to light blue, Gemini ran to Justice’s bedroom. Justice tried to shake his unease. It seemed like an odd idea, but it could be fun. He wondered if he had the will to refuse whatever Gemini wanted him to wear. The worst thing the Soulem could do is make him wear his buttplug. He then told himself it would not be so bad, since they are only touring Sunnysville. “Dude, did you buy some anime replica sex toy?” shouted Gemini. Justice flexed his eyebrows in confusion before his eyes bulged at a faint memory. A while back, he thought it would be fun to purchase sex toys from the internet that were shaped like props from famous television shows and movies. There was only one that caught his eye that was quite similar and came at a hefty price. And after purchasing it, he forgot about trying it out; leaving it to occupy a corner of his room. Gemini continued, “Dragon Pearls™ anal balls? Some kind of Chinese knockoff? Oh wow, yeah, instead of stars, it’s got Chinese characters, heh. Geeze, it’s heavy! What is this, fourty pounds?” “Shit,” muttered Justice. Exiting Justice’s bedroom, Gemini lightly jogged back to his bodybuilder friend. He was carrying several objects in his hands, but there was something else that would catch anybody’s attention. Slinged over his shoulders and around the back of his neck were eight orange spheres interconnected with a white string. The crystal-like orbs were bigger than softballs and had red Chinese characters planted in their centers. The Soulem’s devilish smile was even wider than before, and the color of his mood rings were constantly phasing back and forth with dark red and black. Evil seemed to be dancing in Gemini’s eyes; sending a chill down Justice’s spine. Justice quickly reasoned, “Those aren’t clothes.” “Neither is your Marvelous Man bikini, yet you wear it in public cause it technically clothes your immense dong and balls,” shot back Gemini. The Soulem whined, “C’mon, broooo. You said you’d let me dress you. I mean, are you not able to fit this in you?” “I can...but I don’t want to,” replied the bodybuilder. Gemini continued griping, “Justice. C’moooon. Please? You seriously gonna take back your word?” Justice did not need Gene’s ability to sense the sexual hunger radiating out of Gemini. He knew it was going to be awkward getting pleasured by his best friend. The bodybuilder briefly wondered if all Soulems with supposed functional sex organs were as perverted as Gemini was starting to become. Knowing that he would never hear the end of it and probably hurt their friendship, Justice knew what he had to do. “Fine,” sighed the hulking bodybuilder. Gemini beamed, “Yes! I brought some lube if you need it.” “I don’t, but it’ll make this go a lot faster. Just let me clean myself out first,” said Justice. The overly muscular man thumped his way over to the bathroom. His thick cock loudly slapped against his thunderous thighs with every step. Gemini called out, “Maybe you should get a spell tattooed on yourself, so you can stay permanently clean. Unless you’re like, ya know, some sort of supernatural being or have an artificial colon.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The bulge in Gemini’s zaffre fundoshi pushed against the fabric with furious determination at a chance to be fully erect and free of the tie-string loincloth. In one hand, he held a bottle of Crack Addict lube and the Dragon Pearls™ in the other. The Soulem’s mood ring color flashed an intense dark red, as he stared at the erotic sight in front of him. Splayed open was Justice’s rear end. The bodybuilder stretched his legs open into a perfect split; resting his exceedingly meaty legs on the couch. With nothing to keep his massive bubble glutes together, his virgin hole was left exposed for the Soulem to behold. “Well? You gonna do it or not?” said Justice. Upon Justice voicing his impatience, Gemini shook his head to relieve the carnal daze in his eyes. The Soulem replied, “Huh? Oh, yeah! Sure. Just, uh, give me a second to lube up.” “Just put it on the balls. My ass doesn’t need the prepping,” said Justice. Gemini nodded, “Yeah, I can tell. It’s already got a gape. But, ummm, how’d you get it to be so puffy? It’s like a donut.” “Anal pump. I’ve been using it for...huh, it’s been years, but I actually lost count, heh. But I had to get a new one when I moved here,” explained Justice. Gemini exclaimed, “Damn! How are you not a sex obsessed being if you buy all these sexy clothes and sex toys?! You don’t bother eye-banging every guy we pass by when we go to the mall and stuff.” “I still do. Just not with every guy. And I just feel that all my sex stuff should be kept home in my own privacy. But if I was still in my teens, I would’ve let you bang me without question, hehe,” stated the bodybuilder, “But what about you? You’re trying to put a toy in me and keep staring at my hole.” The Soulem sighed, “Sorry. After my awakening and getting my new body, the moderators for my upgrade said that I’d have a hyper interest in sex for the next week or so. So it should go away soon.” “Oh, right! I totally forgot! Congratulations on your awakening! I guess that’s why you got a new body, huh?” said Justice. He then paused for a second as realization hit him. The musclebound man spoke up, “Ohhhh, so that’s why it’s also called robo puberty!” “Yeah...so I’m really sorry if I keep drooling whenever I look at you. It’s just that...your body is really hypnotizing. Especially your asshole,” licked Gemini. While Justice was used to people flirting with him, it was different to hear his best friend complement the sexual appeal of his body. It sent a tingling sensation that aroused his man meat to twitch and harden. Gemini has made comments about his body before, but it was usually about his bigness or strength. However, his Soulem friend’s new statement roused a new hunger in Justice that felt like it could only be sated with more of those sexy comments...or maybe more. Justice hesitated, “Oh. It’s cool. But thanks for saying that. Ummm, can you put it in me now?” Gemini said nothing, as his eyes kept staring at Justice’s pillow-like bussy. He walked towards the bodybuilder’s hole, as if he were in a trance, and kneeled down. The Soulem slowly leaned forward until his face planted against the stretched buttocks. With his nose pressing against the soft, donut-shaped anus, Gemini’s nose inhaled the manly scent. “Fffffuuuuuck…” exhaled the Soulem. The musclebound man flexed an eyebrow in confusion. He felt something odd, but it was not a feeling of penetration. Opening his mouth, Gemini’s black tongue rolled out. It looked almost like a normal tongue until it began to flex and undulate like a worm. As it slithered in the air, the wet tongue started to glow a soft neon blue. The glimmering, blue tongue wriggled its way onto the bodybuilder’s perineum; tasting the smooth, chocolate taint. Floundering about, Gemini’s tongue layered the soft area with Soulem saliva. The blue muscle was still not satisfied, and trailed down the perineum’s line. It met its unfortunate end, as it collided against the couch. Justice sharply gasped, “G-GEM?! Wha-” Tilting his head up, Gemini snaked his glowing tongue back into his mouth. The Soulem’s silver lips brushed against the overly-muscled rump’s. With them perfectly aligned, Gemini’s face pressed further into the exposed buttock. Justice could hear a wet smooch, as the bulky android puckered and kissed several times. “Wh-what are you doing?!” moaned Justice. He could feel a tickling sensation on his anus, but it was hard to describe. It was wet, and it felt so good. It also felt teasing, and he wanted more but not knowing what it was scared him a bit. He could also feel a big object pressing against his thick rear. The object felt smooth and metallic, but it was warm instead of the expected cold. He briefly wondered just what Gemini was applying before a new sensation took over; melting his ability to move or resist. Gemini opened his mouth, during the mouth to anus make out session, to allow his glimmering, blue tongue to squirm out. It swirled over the pillowy rim of the entrance in slow, clockwise motions. Upon completing a rotation, Gemini would return back to kissing. He would smooch the hole’s lips a few more times before releasing his blue tongue in the opposite direction. With the pumped rim now thoroughly wet, the Soulem’s tongue went into a new direction. The blue tongue slowly slid into the gaping hole. It burrowed deep into fleshy tunnel like a worm without a hint of defiance from the muscle ring. It squirmed in every direction before returning into the metallic mouth. Immediately after, the glimmering appendage darted right back into the bodybuilder’s rectum to taste the virgin meat and explore every part of it. Justice laid on the couch in his perfect leg split; moaning in ecstasy. The tickling, pleasurable sensation now traveled inside of himself. He was powerless to stop Gemini’s unseen action, as he could no longer form a coherent thought. The bodybuilder was now mindless; lost in a lust fog with his eyes rolled back into his skull. The senses in his head spun, and he could no longer tell what was up or down. Pleasures of electricity zipped across his spine; twitching every muscle cord in his body. He whimpered, “Gem…” Gemini stood up. His robotic erection strained against the zaffre fundoshi and lined up against Justice’s pumped, wet hole. The Soulem looked down and reached for the drawstring of his mokko fundoshi before stopping midway. The bottle of Crack Addict lube and the Dragon Pearls™ were still in his hands, and his mood ring color switched to grey. His eyes darted about as if he snapped out of his trance and wondering what just happened. Keeping silent, Gemini quickly doused the orange anal balls with the sex lubricant brand. The color of his mood ring during the lubrication changed to yellow, before fading back to dark red upon finishing. Dropping to his knees, the Soulem placed the bottle of lube on the ground. He then grabbed the crystal orb on the end of the white string, and placed it against Justice’s gaping hole. The donut-shaped entrance widened upon the lubricated Dragon Pearl™ pressing against it. As the hole enveloped the orange orb, it accepted it with a soft, wet shlop. Justice grunted in pleasure from being stretched and filled. The gaping orifice then twitched as if it were a mouth hungry for more. Gemini carefully proceed with the second orb; resulting in the same outcome. The bulky Soulem continued to shove the rest of the crystal balls into Justice’s plump opening. As he slid the last ball in, his hand accidentally slipped in. Justice moaned at the sudden fisting, while Gemini playfully rolled his hand about. Smirking, Gemini pulled his wet hand out with a loud plop. All eight orbs were successfully fed into the hungry hole. The only evidence of such a feat was a ring attached to the anal ball’s white string; hanging outside the pillowy rim. Gemini stood up and gazed upon his handiwork. A shiny, orange glint shimmered from within Justice’s virgin chasm. Gemini’s eye wandered about Justice’s twitching body that was still paralyzed by the onslaught of euphoria. His mood ring transitioned to black. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Justice opened his eyes. He felt full and surmised that Gemini successfully inserted the Dragon Pearls™ into him. He then wondered how he ended up on his back, as the ceiling and the top of his pectorals now stared back at him. There was also something clung around his neck, but it did not matter at this moment. The bodybuilder remembered his anus was being tickled and then lost his sense of self and time. As he tried to recall the event, Justice then felt an intense itching on his hole. Trying to sit himself up, Justice spotted Gemini. The husky Soulem stood in front of him; holding a bag of shiny objects. The color on Gemini’s mood ring had now went back to being white. “...How long was I out?” hesitated Justice. Gemini smiled, “Long enough for me to put on the finishing touches of your new outfit.” Justice positioned himself to get up before noticing something else. “Why am I still doing the splits?” he asked. Gemini shrugged, “You looked really sexy doin that, so I split your legs again after I flipped you over. You’re surprisingly flexible for a super buff guy. It wasn’t even a struggle to get your legs to do it.” “Years of gymnastics and yoga,” answered Justice. Gemini flexed a suspicious golden eyebrow. He inquired, “Between all the bodybuilding?” “I had a lot of free time back in Sunnysville,” shrugged Justice, “Anyways, let me see what you did before we go.” Breaking from his split pose, the hulking bodybuilder placed his legs together and stood up from the leather couch. Justice thumped his heavy body back towards his bedroom and could hear a jingling of bells that he could not identify its origin. He could feel the anal balls wiggling inside of him with every thunderous step he took. Justice mentally admitted to himself that although it was weird to feel so much stuffed into his body, it did feel pleasurable and sexy knowing he took it all in. As he approached the bedroom door, he could not ignore another sensation he had been feeling since he woke up. Justice’s hole itched and twitched with an intensity that needed to be scratched. It was greater than its usual urges to be stretched and filled. Justice thought the anal balls were enough but figured it might have increased his endurance to take on more. As he reached down to pet the sexually-hungered mouth, the bodybuilder heard his Soulem friend shout. “Oh! That reminds me,” said Gemini. Dropping the bag of shiny objects, the bulky android ran to the musclebound man and stopped within touching distance. Gemini grabbed the Dragon Pearls’™ ring, hanging out of Justice’s anus on a white string, with one hand and placed the other on the bodybuilder’s wide back. He yanked as if he were trying to start up a lawn mower. Gemini commanded, “I wish you wouldn’t touch your hole until the Dragon Pearls™ are completely out.” Immediately after Gemini said his wish, Justice’s hole began to bulge against an object trying to exit. An orange orb was pulled out of virgin rectum with a wet plop ringing in the air. The bodybuilder gasped at the sudden stretch and partial loss of fullness. Electricity danced in Justice’s body, as the musclebound man was now paralyzed by the pleasurable shock. Before Justice had time to breathe, Gemini yanked the white string again. “I wish that you can’t take off the outfit I put on you until the Dragon Pearls™ are completely out,” added the Soulem. Another crystal anal ball popped out of donut-shaped hole. Justice’s body was assaulted by the multiple sensations but managed to gain enough willpower to do one action. The musclebound man held out his arms and braced himself against the doorframe. In the act of doing so, Justice sacrificed the power in his legs. The bodybuilder sagged to the floor, as his overly-muscular legs could no longer stand. Justice’s rear end poised up upon reaching the tiled ground; held up by the anal leash grasped in Gemini’s fingers. The bodybuilder shuddered, “F-Father...fucker...Wh-what did...you do...that for?” Gemini playfully tugged at the Dragon Pearls™ string. The orbs did not react this time; causing Justice’s round, muscle rump to be lifted higher up. Squatting down, the bulky Soulem slid his white, rubbery index finger halfway into Justice’s pumped hole. He then twirled in finger in a slow clockwise motion; eliciting wimpy moans from the hulking bodybuilder. Gemini licked his lips with his glowing, blue tongue, as his mood ring flashed to dark red. “Just testing it. Apparently, this anime knockoff sex toy is a magical object,” he replied. Justice moaned, “What?!” Even though he should be angry and having many different emotions about this situation, Justice felt himself sinking back into the lust fog. All of his emotions were being drained by Gemini toying with his hole. Justice wanted to fight back, but a bigger part of him wanted to give in. Especially since the itching sensation on his anal lips was finally being relieved a little bit. “Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t look at the booklet in the box. Or at the very least, read the description info on whatever site you bought it from. But I guess when you have all the money to burn, things like that or even the price won’t deter you,” said Gemini. The Soulem rambled, “Basically, the Dragon Pearls™ are a mind control device that isn’t labeled as a magical mind control device, cause those are illegal. Not to mention, they would have been cancelled out by the magical mind control disruptors placed all over the city to prevent mind hacking. But this enchanted sex toy uses lust energy and can only compel a person once they give consent to have the balls put in them. So it would be really hard for a terrorist to use it against the president or something.” “Anyways, once they’re in you, I’m able to give you eight commands, but I have to start it with ‘I wish’. And every time I command you, I have to pull out a ball for it to work. Don’t worry though, I won’t make you do anything rapey like having sex with me. But apparently, the eighth command is permanent, and all the previous ones are temporary depending on how much lust energy was absorbed,” he continued. Justice could not believe what he was hearing. He thought to himself that he really needed to pay better attention to the description info before he bought something on the internet. No wonder that sex toy had all those zeroes. Gemini explained, “So I’m just gonna say in advance that I’m really sorry about all this, and that I don’t have much control over myself. I’m just super horny right now, and I just am now realizing what a sadist me and my dad really are. Sooooo, while my inhibitions are really low, I’m just gonna try to enjoy this as much as possible. Consider it payback for keeping a secret from your best friend that could have explained why we couldn’t have hung out all those times you were heroing before I got my upgrade.” The hulking bodybuilder tried to sigh, but it ended up turning into a moan. Gemini was not going to let it go even after Justice apologized. He then figured it was better to play along with Gemini’s role play, to keep his best friend happy. But when Justice has hit his limit, he will stop pretending to be deceived by the husky Soulem. “Fine. But...why does...my asshole itch...so much?” asked Justice. The Soulem smirked, “Grabbed a bottle of Crack Addict from your room. It’s that irritant lube that makes ya itch wherever you apply it to. Must be driving you pretty wild, huh, bro?” “Yeah...Can I get up now?” said Justice. Ceasing the finger twirl on Justice’s hole, Gemini uncoiled the white string that had wrapped around his finger from the action. The Soulem then slapped his hand down on the bodybuilder’s massive, round glutes; causing the skin and fat underneath it to ripple like a stone tossed into a pond. Justice moaned loudly from the buttocks assault and again from Gemini leaning down to give the donut-shaped hole one final lick with his glowing, blue tongue. He replied, “Now you can.” Justice remained face down for a few more seconds before collecting enough strength in his massive legs to stand up. At full height, his hands remained braced against the doorframe to keep his body straight. The bodybuilder then opened the door and slowly thumped his mammoth-sized body into his bedroom. Other than the anal balls inside of him moving, he could now feel the two orange orbs outside of him slapping against the back of his tree-trunk thighs. It was almost as if he had a tail. Finding the many wall-sized mirrors installed on the wall, he stood in front to gaze at his appearance. He became perplexed at what he saw, and realized he really needed to pay more attention to what he bought. The outfit Gemini made him wear was technically allowed for public dressed, but it was on the same level as Gene’s dating wardrobe. A gold-plated slave collar was now adorned around his neck. It had a short-lengthed chain linked to the front of the collar and drooped down into the cleft of Justice’s colossal pecs. Justice spotted his ankles had also been arrested with gold-plated slave cuffs that had small bells linked onto the sides. Focusing on his crotch, he noticed his hefty family jewels had been fitted through a golden cock ring that had been lined with a stretchy fabric. The shiny, metallic silver spandex housed his sexual fruits and stretched to a skin tightness that every detail of his manliness can be seen. The shiny spandex had the word “IT” printed in large, metallic gold spandex, so that even his crotch spelled out that he was bounded to a submissive, sexual servitude. Justice’s eyes were finally drawn to the last of what Gemini put on him. Shimmering on his belly button and his forehead were body jewelry rhinestones. They were white and sparkled like diamonds. The one on his belly button was the biggest of the two; completely covering the fleshy depression with a circular shape. As for the one applied onto the center of his forehead, it had a diamond-shaped rhombus figure to it. More than likely, these rhinestones were the final pieces, since that is what was most likely in the bag Gemini held when Justice woke up. “Am I supposed to be some sort of sci-fi slave prince?” guessed Justice. Gemini shrugged, “Something like that. I just grabbed what I thought would look sexy on you.” Justice looked in the mirror again to take in his new appearance. There was something exciting about wearing such an outfit, and it was starting to grow on him. It felt as if Gemini had awakened something within him. He always knew he was a power bottom but did being subjugated turn him on? The musclebound bodybuilder felt that Gemini would be the only one he could trust with such a thing for now; even though the Soulem was being a perverted pain at the moment. Though part of Justice relished at how dominant Gemini was over him. The overly-muscular man poked at his forehead rhinestone. “Well...I don’t completely hate it. I’m kinda liking this bindi. And the belly button one is...not bad,” he said, “By the way, how strong is this adhesive? It’s not budging at all.” Gemini stated, “It’s supposed to stay on you for a week, so I’m guessing it’s pretty strong stuff. So unless you want to rip off some epidermis, you probably shouldn’t try. Oh, and it’s waterproof and heat resistant, so a shower ain’t gonna make it come off.” Justice frowned as he played with his metallic spandex-encased bulge. The fabric felt smooth to his fingertips, and he was finding it fun to jostle it in his hand. He then spotted in his wall mirror a wet spot starting to develop on the silver spandex. “Fine. At least I can take off the cuffs and collar when you get those Dragon Pearls™ out of me,” remarked the bodybuilder. Gemini then mentioned, “Oh, yeah. One last thing. I stuck a whole bunch of different-colored rhinestones on your back.” “What?” said Justice. Gemini grinned, “Yeah, I arranged it to look like the Gemini constellation. So that’s my brand on you for right now to show that I own you, heh. But I’m not feeling it right now, so I’ll probably try something later that’s more noticeable and more me.” “Fine. Whatever. Is there anything else you added?” huffed Justice. Gemini pursed his lips, “Hmmmm, nope. That’s it. But let me just do one last thing.” Grabbing the white cord sticking out of Justice’s hole, Gemini yanked it. “I wish that you can’t move unless I’m wearing the Dragon Pearls’™ pull ring or holding onto the string,” he commanded. Another wet plop emanated from Justice’s hole, as another orb popped out. The bodybuilder gasped at the sudden stretch, and its sensation coursing through his musclebound body. It might have been pleasurable to feel and relieved some of the itch, but it also felt humiliating. Justice exclaimed, “Okay, that’s it!” The muscular man reached behind himself and grasped at the sex toy’s cord. Relaxing his bowels, Justice tugged at the Dragon Pearls™. The bodybuilder expected his hole to be stretched multiple times, but nothing happened. He adjusted his grip on one of the orbs and jerked at it again and again. The outcome was the same; not at all budging and locked within his rectum. “The hell? I’m relaxing all my ass muscles. Why isn’t it coming out?!” he said. Gemini smirked, “I did just tell you about a minute ago that you bought enchanted Dragon Pearls™. I even gave you that whole spiel on how it works. Only somebody commanding you can pull them out one at a time.” “I thought you were just roleplaying or something. It’s just too crazy for something like that to exist,” replied Justice. Gemini sighed, “Says the guy that bought an anime knockoff replica sex toy.” Justice said nothing while releasing his hold over the orange orb. The bodybuilder then attempted to touch his itchy anus; his fingers reaching out to the affected area. Justice’s hand stopped in its tracks just as it was about brush against his asshole. It was as if there was some magnetic field that repelled his hand away from his hole. “Dammit,” he muttered. As Justice gave up, the bulky android’s mood ring color shifted to black. Gemini spoke up, “Allow me to demonstrate wish three.” The Soulem relinquished his grasp over the Dragon Pearls™; slapping against the bodybuilder’s overly-muscled thighs. He grinned, as Justice’s body immediately seized like a statue. Gemini’s hands began to wander over Justice’s wide, wing-like lats, as he leaned forward to kiss the musclebound man’s mountainous traps. Even though Justice could not move, he could still hear and feel the wet smooch applied to his skin. The bodybuilder then wondered how the Soulem’s metallic lips were warm, wet, and somehow tickled his skin. As Gemini finished his kiss, he squatted down. The husky Soulem moved himself in front of Justice and looked straight at his friend’s metallic spandex bulge. Extending his glowing, blue tongue, Gemini licked at the bulge’s wet spot that now had a raindrop-sized manly residue leaking through the shiny, silver bulge. “Mmmmm. Sweet. Just like you,” flirted Gemini. Justice felt his cheeks burn. He was not sure if it was from either being flustered at the compliment or being humiliated at his paralysis. “...Thanks...can we go now?” he replied. Gemini sneered, “Don’t want to have sexy times with your best friend?” As the Soulem stood up, he dragged his glimmering tongue over the silver bulge. It then slid across the cobblestone abs and into the crevice of Justice’s mighty pectorals. All evidence of such an act was a trail of the Soulem’s saliva on the hulking bodybuilder’s skin and the newly polished navel jewelry; shimmering in the bedroom light. Gemini then changed his attention to the watermelon-sized pecshelf. He softly bit onto Justice’s left pec multiple times, as his hand molested the other. Chocolate pec meat spilled through the white, rubbery fingers of the hard grip. Justice could only moan at the titillating action and groaned even louder once Gemini switched to the bodybuilder’s nipples. Justice gritted his teeth. It was very hot but also weird to watch his friend make love to his chest. He wanted to ask when Gemini started to have sexual attractions to him, but there was something else he needed to say. Justice could not let himself get lost in the erotic euphoria and excitement from being dominated. The bodybuilder gathered his willpower and thought of the most unsexy thing he could think of. Pickle peanut butter sandwich. “I think that’s why it seems awkward to me. You’re my best friend, and...I dunno...I still feel bad about what happened, and I need to show you the real me. Please?,” he answered. Gemini instantly ceased his erotic activity upon hearing his best friend. He looked up at Justice’s eyes, while the color of his mood ring changed to white. The Soulem frowned, “Sorry. You’re right. I’m getting so easily sidetracked right now, but...I do want you to show me more than anything, dude. I want to understand.” Next Chapter
  7. muscleaddict

    Worshipping Tommy Foster

    This is taken from a bigger story I wrote but I think it works as a stand alone piece. Two muscle loving camera men have been invited to the hotel room of a competition conditioned bodybuilder. Part 1 It felt like the whole world had gone into slow motion as I tried to comprehend what was happening. A genuine bodybuilder in insane, competition condition was inviting me to oil him up. There had to be a catch. I looked down and noticed that the oil was in a spray-bottle. No actual bodily contact had to be necessary. I would press down on the head of the bottle and the oil would spray onto Tommy’s perfectly pumped, alien-like physique, but surely he would be the one to do the rubbing? Surely I wouldn’t actually get to place my hands on his phenomenally huge mounds and crazily developed slabs of thinly skinned muscle? Even though I was convinced that this was the case, the mere mention or thought of any kind of oiling up of a bodybuilder had not only caused a serious lack of space in my underwear, but it felt like I was suddenly sporting my biggest, hardest and most intense erection of the day. Without really considering an alternative option, I cautiously took the bottle of oil from Tommy’s hand, then shot a quick, nervous glance at Stuart Fox, who at this point seemed to be trying his best to act as if what was unfolding was a perfectly normal occurrence. Tommy also looked completely nonchalant as he posed his next question. “Have you ever oiled up a bodybuilder before Charlie”? Oh yes Tommy mate. Every bloody weekend an incredibly conditioned, freakishly muscular bodybuilder in brightly coloured, minuscule posing trunks pops round to my house, plonks himself in the middle of my bedroom and just stands there with his arms outstretched for a head to toe oil up. What the bleeding buggering hell do YOU think?! Still in a state of shock at what was happening, I shook my head and gave him a mumbled “no” and he casually proceeded to give me instructions. “You need to give the bottle a good shake before you spray it on. Just a few sprays on to the chosen body part, and then just really rub it in.” “Rub it in”! Did he just say “rub it fucking in”?! Chances of me fainting dead on Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor? VERY BLOODY LIKELY! “It’s probably best to start with my quads…” His quads! He wants me to place my hands on his ridiculously developed, gorgeously shredded quads! My actual hands. On his actual fucking quads! Fainting on Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor expected in 3, 2... “…and then work your way up”. Helloooo Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor. Do you mind if I just stay here for a while? “Don’t be afraid to be generous. It washes off easily”. Tommy then turned to my filming mentor. “You can get in here too Stuart. There’s enough of me to go round”. His mouth curled into an amused grin at his own outrageously cheeky comment and I couldn’t help but smile in amusement myself, all the time wondering how the hell I was still standing upright and conscious. Tommy Foster/Mr Gorgeous Abs had stopped talking, and the atmosphere suddenly seemed to have become slightly awkward. As he and Stuart Fox glanced at me, I suddenly realised that they were waiting for me to make my move. They were waiting for me to bend down, spray oil onto the insanely thick, deliciously carved quads of a genuine competition conditioned muscle freak, and rub it in using my hands (my actual hands). There was nothing else to do than to oblige. Crouching down, with one knee on the carpet, and my face mere inches away from his absurdly sized wheels, as instructed, I gave Tommy’s bottle of oil a few good shakes, and as I sprayed twice on to his left quad, three questions arose in my head; #1. How can one man’s legs be so monstrously thick and muscular? #2. Why am I so turned on by the scent of the shiny yellow fabric of his posing trunks, now mere inches away from my face, along with the thick bulge that’s still struggling to be contained by it? #3. How the bleeding buggering FUCK is this actually happening to me?! Conscious of the fact that Stuart was standing over me, I reached my hand up and gave him the bottle. Even though he looked more nervous than I’d seen him doing so before, the left corner of his mouth curled slightly into a coy, and excited smile as he took the bottle of oil from me and proceeded to kneel down next to me at Tommy Foster’s legs. As Stuart sprayed the oil onto Tommy’s right quad, I stared at the glistening mound of impossibly muscular, thinly skin wrapped leg meat. Time, once again, seemed to slow down as I prepared to do something I never imagined I would get the possibility to do and place my hands on the freakishly developed muscle of an actual living, breathing bodybuilder. What I certainly wasn’t prepared for was said bodybuilder to suddenly and unexpectedly tense and flex that freakishly developed muscle the second my hand made contact. If I had to describe the sensation of running my hands over the incredible mounds of rock hard, inhumanly thick, gorgeously soft skin wrapped muscle which made up Tommy Foster’s quads and feeling the deep lines and freakish separations under my fingertips, I would probably say it was the closest I’ve ever felt to experiencing an orgasm without actually having one. It was like I had transcended a normal level of arousal. My whole body felt like it was undergoing some hyper-sensual, otherworldly experience that the majority of people would never know existed, let alone have the chance to experience. The door to the world of extreme muscle I had opened when I’d stumbled across the image of the huge, shredded, flexing bodybuilder in my parents TV listings guide all those years ago was long behind me and I was now smack bang in the middle of it, down on one knee with the shiny posing trunk clad bulge of a muscle bull mere inches from my head, rubbing oil into his phenomenal sized, alien-like quads, feeling every ridge, line and separation under my fingers and wondering if I’d ever have an experience so powerful, intoxicating and mind blowingly erotic again. I wondered whether Stuart Fox was feeling anything even close to what I was as he gave Tommy Foster’s right quad the same treatment, and whether it was actually the first time he’d managed to feel the freaky muscle of a bodybuilder, either on one of his previous three shows or otherwise. That particular question hadn’t even occurred to me before that moment, but I’d suddenly become extremely curious to know the answer to it. The wave of disappointment I felt as the task of oiling up Tommy Foster’s incredible, barely human quads had completed, and Tommy spun around to present Stuart and I with the rear of his physique, quickly evaporated when he reached his hands around to the back of his posing trunks and outrageously tucked the bright yellow material into the crack of his ass and I was suddenly staring at a pair of gorgeously tanned and gloriously thick glutes. I looked over at my tanning buddie who looked completely awestruck and ever so slightly terrified, presumably at being in such close proximity of an ass so astonishingly big and suddenly barely covered, thanks to the owner, and as Stuart’s mouth curled slightly into a devilish grin, I wondered whether that fear was, in fact, for another reason. Was he, suddenly like me, wondering whether Tommy Foster had tucked his trunks into the crack of his mammoth sized bottom because he was expecting us to oil it up? Surely that was above and beyond the duties of any friend, training partner or nervous, muscle crazed work experience guy lucky enough to be asked to perform the task of oiling up a bodybuilder? Or was it? The glutes were a muscle group that would surely have to get oiled up just like any other. Was I about to get my hands on an actual pair of insanely developed and obscenely thick glutes? Predictability, rubbing oil into Tommy’s tight, taught hamstrings was considerably less arousing than doing so with his quads. So much so, that I completely underestimated just how incredible his freakish and enormous sized calves would feel. I’d never been massively into calf muscles, until that very moment I was knelt down on the floor at the feet of a bodybuilder running my hands over the granite hard, ridiculously huge mound of muscle exploding off the back of his lower leg. I’d almost forgotten that Tommy was an actual, living person, and not just a mass of freakish muscle put on the earth purely for the pleasure of Stuart and I until he spoke, and addressed us with a rather unexpected question. “So how long have you guys known each other”? Even without facing Tommy, the prospect of talking to him still all but terrified me, and it was left to my filming mentor to reply. “Erm…we only just met this morning”, he replied. “Oh, wow”, Tommy replied, with genuine surprise in the tone of his voice. “You kinda seem like you’ve known each other for a while”. I sheepishly looked at Stuart who was returning a slightly embarrassed but undoubtedly affectionate smirk similar to the one I was completely failing to repress. It was an expression which told me one thing; Stuart Fox was clearly feeling the same connection between us that I had been, pretty much since he started sharing his fantastic and inventive pump room game with me that morning. Whatever was happening between Stuart and I one thing for was certain; it felt incredible special. Furthermore, I couldn't deny how particularly brilliant it was to have a like minded muscle lover, clearly just as crazily turned on by muscle that I was, by my side and sharing my experience of oiling up a competition conditioned bodybuilder. In that moment I decided that I wouldn't go home that day without attempting two things; firstly, finding out whether Stuart Fox was currently embarking on his first experience of oiling up a bodybuilder, and secondly, getting his phone number. I'd just about rubbed every last bit of oil into Tommy’s calves when Stuart Fox handed me back the bottle of oil. With his hamstrings also well and truly oiled, I looked up to see the copious amount of Tommy's bum meat staring down at me in the most magnificent image and wondered what the hell my next move was going to be. I could only guess that Stuart Fox, helplessly and nervously staring back at me in that moment, was pondering the same question in his head that I was. The question which had been on my mind since Tommy Foster had unexpectedly wedged the back of those obscenely shiny posers into the crack of his ass and was now in desperate need of an answer; did Tommy Foster want us to place our grubby, muscle loving hands on his outrageously muscular, crazily developed, posing trunk devouring ass? "Hey guys", Tommy unexpectedly said. "Don’t forget the glutes". He wants us to place our grubby, muscle loving hands on his outrageously muscular, crazily developed, posing trunk devouring ass!! "I worked hard for those bad boys”! Two words: Cheeky bugger! Two more words: FUCK YES!! Wondering whether I'd experience a more surreal moment for the rest of my living days, I shook Tommy Foster’s bottle of oil and pumped two sprays onto his indecently thick and meaty right buttock. It wasn't until the second spray that Tommy suddenly tensed said buttock, and, right before my eyes, his amazing ass shrivelled up, a dozen of the freakiest lines and striations erupted and I was staring directly at the most beautiful pair of real life, genuine, gorgeously shredded glutes. It was a moment made even more brilliant when Stuart Fox unexpectedly and accidentally muttered a hushed "fuck!" in response, followed by a look of sheer panic and a sudden case of violent blushing to his cheeks. It wasn't just the actual words that made up Tommy Foster's response to Stuart Fox's verbal slip which suddenly made the whole scene feel even more highly erotic, but the incredibly arrogant, undeniably masculine and rather dirty sounding tone in which he delivered them; "Yeah baby"! There were so many factors as to what made oiling up Tommy Foster’s glutes even more erotically charged than when my hands were running over his thick, shredded quads. The actual sensation of feeling Tommy’s ass striations under my fingers, the fact that the act of having my hands on the glutes of, not just a bodybuilder, but any man felt a lot more intimate, the fact that my fingers kept making contact with what little of his shiny posing trunks were left covering up his unfathomably thick buttocks, and the fact that I was experiencing the whole thing knelt down next to a guy I was not only attracted to, but also felt an incredible chemistry with. A guy who was, no doubt, just as turned on by running his hands over a pair of gorgeously conditioned glutes as I was. Tommy’s obscenely sexy and dirty sounding “yeah baby” was also hanging in the air, and as my tingling and extremely sensitive hard on pulsated and throbbed in my jeans, I couldn’t help but, once again, wonder exactly what Tommy Foster’s motives were for inviting two guys who he’d confessed, in not so many words, to suspecting were gay and turned on by muscle, to rub oil into his freaky, shredded ass. With every single inch, line and striation of Tommy’s phenomenal and glistening glutes fully oiled, I took Stuart Fox’s lead in standing up in preparation to give Mr Foster’s back the same treatment. With my face not far away from the rear of his head, my torso from his broad, perfectly bronzed back, and the throbbing bulge in the crotch of my jeans from the indecently thick ass I’d just been running my fingers over, I suddenly felt a new kind of intimacy with the amazing middleweight muscle freak before me. After Stuart gave his lower back a few sprays, without a huge amount of pre-thought, I, perhaps rather adventurously, opted for the upper part of Tommy’s back, which seemed to slightly surprise him, as he briefly turned his head to the side of his body I was oiling up in response. Not to be outdone, Tommy Foster had his own surprise in store for me. As I rubbed the oil over the right side of his impossibly broad upper back, Tommy suddenly and quickly manoeuvred into a back lat spread pose, and before I knew what was happening, he was letting out an outrageously cocky “oooooh”, his back was opening up, and his impressively thick right lat was exploding and bulging underneath my fingers. With the sensation of feeling Tommy’s hard, flexed muscle came the realisation that it would take very, very little to make my throbbing dick explode with an absolute tsunami of cum. One little tug on my hard on through my jeans, or even just one little accidental brush of my crotch against Tommy’s phenomenally conditioned, barely covered glutes and it would undoubtedly all be over. With his magnificent back fully oiled, Tommy spun around to face Stuart and I, and the moment he did, my face suddenly flushed and I felt a new, crippling and intense sense of shyness, which would undoubtedly had been even more intense had I not long before been running my fingers over his gloriously striated ass. Whether the biggest contributor to this was the fact that he could suddenly see my face, and the un-nerving possibility of him being able to read my expressions, the fact that his slabs of perfectly smooth pec meat and thick, blocky, beautiful nickname earning abs were now inches away from my body, or whether it was the prospect of getting my hands on his insanely muscular, and crazily conditioned torso I wasn't entirely sure, but my pulse was suddenly racing and I seemed physically incapable of looking Tommy Foster in the eye. I'd never been more attracted to anyone than I was to Tommy in that moment. Here was a man who had transcended a normal level of hotness to become the kind of bona fide muscle freak of nature guys like me can only dream of seeing in the flesh. His potent, masculine, and extremely arousing scent was present once again and stronger than ever, and his gorgeous, rock hard, thinly skinned torso seemed to be radiating an incredible heat. As Stuart Fox sprayed oil onto the right, thick, slab-like pec hanging off his chest, I suddenly wondered what I wanted most in that moment; for a hole to appear beneath me on the floor of Tommy Foster's hotel room floor and swallow me clean into the ground, or for Tommy to suddenly wrap his magnificently muscular arm around my waist, push me into his hard, Adonis-like body and bring his lips to mine for an amazing, soft, passionate kiss.
  8. muscleaddict

    Dan and Jake (Part 1)

    Part 1 of a new story about two much loved juniour bodybuilders. Dan is 6 ft, huge and ridiculously handsome. Jake is 5' 5" and known for his super shredded conditioning (we're talking razor sharp cuts, dick thin skin, freaky ab veins an a full on Christmas tree). They're best friends and vlogging partners (they've been dubbed "the beefiest blogging duo on YouTube"). But Jake has a secret. He's completely and hopelessly in love with Dan. Dan and Jake (Part 1) The church is absolutely packed, and as the organ man starts to play, I begin to walk down the aisle. I turn to the man to the right, clutching my arm. Good old pops. He looks genuinely choked up. Everyone is looking at me all doughy eyed. Granny Adams is dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Auntie Mavis is nudging uncle Boris and signalling to my outfit. Both of them now staring at it in admiration. I look down to admire it myself. A black dickie bow around my neck, a pair of smart black boots and, completing the outfit, a pair of bright red posing trunks. As shiny as you can imagine. The red trunk coloured bulge is looking up at me. So are my abs. In all their thick, wonky shaped, and phenomenally peeled glory. Six crazily developed bumps bursting through my tummy to remind me that I'm a freakishly shredded, excessively developed muscle boy who loves nothing more than to strut around a bodybuilding stage, flexing and squeezing his superhuman sized mass for all the world to see. My slabby, beautifully carved out muscle tits, and the rest of my huge, bronzed, vein plastered body are obvious reminders too. What is the organ man playing? I know the song but I can't quite get the name. It’s only when I get to the front of the church that it suddenly hits me. It’s a ballad organ rendition of The Prodigy's "Smack My Bitch Up". A large, stocky man is standing in front of me smiling. He’s wearing one of the t-shirts from my website; black with the words "BROTHERS IN BEEF" printed on it, and around his neck is a dog collar. I recognise him instantly. It’s the commentator and host from a dozen of my previous bodybuilding shows. I'm pretty sure his name is Bob. "Friends, relatives, muscleheads", Bob begins in his thick Yorkshire accent. "We're here today to witness the union between two of Britain's biggest and most popular young bodybuilders". I take a sneaky glance at the man standing next to me. It would only be one person. Could only be one person. "Yo dude", he quietly says, with his fist held out for me to discreetly bump. I oblige, obviously, and just catch a quick glance of the bow tie around his neck, exactly like mine, and the big blocks of abdominal muscle popping through his stomach. Also exactly like mine. Bob carries on the sermon for a number of minutes, and then it’s time for the vows. "Do you Jake "The Shredinator" Adams, take Dan "The Man" Murray to be your lawfully wedded muscle freak"? "FUCK YES!", I exclaim, and everyone roars with laughter. "Oooops sorry", I sheepishly add. "I mean, I do". And with those two words, my heart swells. I do I do I do. "I now pronounce you, pumped up, shredded to buggery muscle freak and, well....pumped up, shredded to buggery muscle freak". I can't wipe the grin off my face. He's mine. Dan The Man is finally mine. "You may now squeeze a head to head crab most muscular". "HELL YEAH!", Dan exclaims. I turn to face my new hubbie, matching bow tie, black boots, shiny red posers and all. A huge, cheeky grin plastered across his face, as utterly gorgeous as ever. The face that plays a big contribution to him being one half of the two most popular and well loved bodybuilders in Britain. "Let's do this mate!", Dan said. I grin wildly and nod as I bend forward and lift both arms so they're level with my shoulder blades. Bob wants a head to head crab most muscular and that's what he's gonna get. "SQUEEEEZE IT LADS!", shouts Bob. And squeeze it we do. With my forehead pressed up against Dan's, we both bring our arms down and blast out matching crab most musculars, while aggressively shouting in unison. "YEEEEAARRGGHHHH"!! Dan "The Man" Murray. My lifelong muscle buddie. Best friend. Vlogging partner. Brother in beef. Fellow shredded muscle freak. Love of my life. And now my husband. "Jake"! Our heads are still locked. Our teeth now gritted. "JAKE"! Faces scrunched to buggery. Intensely and affectionately looking into each other's eyes. "Dude! Wake up"! Every muscle squeezed and bursting through our paper thin skin. Shiny red posers barely able to contain our bulges. "JAKE. DUDE. WAKE. UP"! Ugh. What’s going on?! Fuck. I feel dazed. Disorientated. "What the fuck were you dreaming about"? The church has gone, and I'm in a strange bed instead. A hotel bed. The curtains are open. Ugh. Why is it so fucking bright? But there's one saving grace. I feel typically giddy and a sense of warmth washes over me as I see Dan's face, just as handsome first thing in the morning as it always is. He has a bad case of bed head. Ruffled and un-styled. He's never looked more adorable. He's lying next to me in the double bed of the hotel room, still wearing the white vest he went to bed in last night. His arms have never looked more pumped and his delts look fucking ridiculously. His whole upper body looks like it's ready to burst. "Dude you were saying my name in your sleep!", Dan says. "Oh", I reply, my cheeks suddenly burning up and my pulse quickening. "Ummm...I think I was dreaming about the show", I say. "Did I kick your arse for the third year running?", he cheekily says with a grin. "Actually I kicked your arse", I playfully retort, knowing full well that the chance of that particular scenario occurring is extremely slim. "You must have been dreaming dude", he replies. Not yet fully woken up, I smile and dreamily gaze at my best friend and fellow bodybuilding musclehead from my pillow. I want nothing more than to stay in this hotel bed with him. For us to spend all day under the sheets, exploring and worshipping each other's indecently muscular bodies. Feeling each other's huge, pumped biceps, squeezing each other's thick, balloon-esque pecs, exploring the deep lines separating each of our shredded blocks of ab muscle and rubbing our huge freaky quads together. Making each other cum over and over until we finally collapse and I fall asleep with my arm wrapped around his crazy midsection and my head buried deep into the thick cushion which makes up one of his ridiculously developed pecs. Unfortunately, we have the juniour class of Britain's biggest bodybuilding show to compete in, which Dan will no doubt champion in for the third year running, leaving me to, once again, settle for second place. Not that Dan’s physique is miles ahead of mine in terms of quality. In fact, I'm guaranteed to always be better conditioned than him. Better than any lad in my class in fact. After all, I didn't get the nickname "The Shredinator" for nothing. Razor sharp cuts, dick thin skin, freaky veins (even on my abs!) and a full on bonkers Christmas tree will all be making their usual stage appearance today. And I'm not exactly lacking in size either. My pecs look like two pumpkins bulging off my chest, my quads get thicker with every passing show and my shoulders were replaced with two, huge, perfectly round boulders many moons ago. Oh and speaking of moons, my bum is huge. Like, seriously fucking enormous. There's not a pair of posing trunks in the world big enough to cover up the whole of my ridiculously huge rump. But I have one major drawback. I'm 5' 5” tall. So while my quads may be more shredded than Dan’s, the lines in my abs deeper, and my bum most certainly bigger, it's hard to compete with a brilliantly conditioned, mass packed bodybuilder who has an extra seven inches in height and thirty five pounds in weight than you do. "Dude, I can't wait to see your posing trunks", Dan excitedly says. "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna kick your arse in that contest too". "Hmmmm. I wouldn't be too cocky just yet", I playfully tease, picturing the utterly brilliant posers hidden in my holdall. "Shall we shower and then do the vid?", Dan asks. He looks like an excitable puppy, with the big brown eyes to match. I love how excited Dan gets about filming episodes of our "Dan and Jake: Brothers In Beef" vlog, although on this occasion I have to admit, I’m pretty excited myself. Dan came up with an idea to hold a "Posing Trunk Challenge" a few months ago. The goal was for each of us to find the best pair of posers for the competition. We'd both reveal our trunks in a vlog episode the morning of the show, and it was up to our viewers to decide which of the two of us had won the challenge. Dan was always slightly more adventurous with his posing trunks than I was, and I was sure whatever crazy pair he'd found would win him the challenge, but I was still really pleased with the pair I'd chosen. I was pretty sure Dan would love them too. I couldn't wait to see the look of approval on his impossibly handsome face when he saw them clinging to my excessively sized arse for the first time. Dan throws back the duvet and jumps out of bed and my heart sinks in response. Stood up, Dan looks absolutely monstrous. He's ten pounds heavier than last years competition - and boy does it show. His brutal upper body is exploding with mass, not least of all with those obscenely pumped arms of his. The judges may as well just save everyone the hassle and hand him the first place juniour class trophy now. Still looking up at him from my pillow, Dan peels, with comical difficulty, his white vest up his torso and over his head. His now revealed incredible abs are blistering through his stomach. Where my abs are wonky shaped and haphazardly spread across my midsection, Dan's stomach is perfectly symmetrical. Six beautifully shaped abs cleanly separated by almost straight lines. A perfect midsection to match his perfectly pumped pecs, and every single perfect feature on his boyish, yet masculine, and almost sickeningly handsome face. If I wasn't completely and madly in love with him, I'd probably be extremely envious of Dan "The Man" Murray. He'll always have more Twitter followers, his Instagram posts will always get more likes, he'll always have more muscle loving gay guys lusting over him, he'll always be the "hot one" and I'll always be the "cute one", he'll always be the monster and I'll always be the pocket rocket and he'll always walk away with a bigger and better trophy than I will. Still, at least I'll always have the bigger arse. "Just wait until you see my trunks dude", Dan enthusiastically says, grinning wildly, as he pulls out a towel from his bag. "Are you more excited about the show or the posing trunk challenge?", I teasingly ask. He laughs and cheekily responds. "What can I say dude? I just really like kicking your arse". Fifteen minutes later and a freshly showered Dan has re-emerged, just as outrageously huge and devastatingly handsome as always. His pecs are doing nothing to tame the swelling bulge in my undies under the bed sheets. "Dude, we’d better hurry up. We need enough time to go to the tanning tents backstage. Plus I want to get a good half an hour of pumping up before we hit the stage". I dutifully obey my best friend and jump into the shower. About half an hour later, I'm back in the en suite bathroom putting on my new pair of posing trunks, then hiding them under a pair of shorts in preparation for the posing trunk challenge, in our newest episode of our "Dan and Jake: Brothers In Beef" vlog. The vlog was all Dan's doing. About a year ago, when we were still in fairly decent condition from competing, Dan had a completely bonkers idea. He thought it would be fun if we painted each other's entire bodies green, put on purple shorts like The Hulk wears, go into our local town centre, start flexing and posing in the middle of the street and catch everyone's reactions on camera. I thought he was joking until he turned up on my doorstep with two big tubs of bright green body paint. I was a little embarrassed at first, and slightly scared that we might get arrested, but once people started crowding round us, coming up to us to shake our hands, chat to us and have their pictures taken, I actually started to really enjoy it. Of course Dan loved it from the second we stepped out of the car, but then Dan just adores any kind of attention his muscles bring him. The video was as equally popular when posted online. "You guys should have your own YouTube channel and start a vlog", suggested one follower in the comments section. And so we did. And now, a year and thousands of followers later we've been dubbed the Internet's beefiest vloggers. Dan and Jake; the only bodybuilding vlogging duo in the world. Of course we've attracted criticism too. Most of it from straight, fellow bodybuilders not impressed or amused by our laddish and quite often bonkers antics. Though most of it seems to be directed at Dan. Whether they see him as the ringleader, or whether there's a certain amount of hidden jealousy at play, I'm not really sure. "What's the British version of a douchebag? Surely it would be Dan Murray." "Dan The Man? More like Dan The Twat". "Jake needs to ditch that idiot Dan and get serious about bodybuilding. He's young and his physique is insane. He could be a future pro 212 class bodybuilder, but his bromance with Dan and this Brothers In Beef shit is doing nothing for his reputation". Those are just a few negative comments which comes to mind. The last one particularly stuck in my head. And, of course, the very notion that I would "ditch" Dan is completely ridiculous. Dan is my best friend and always will be. I wouldn't be anything but loyal towards him. "Right mate, we're all set", Dan says as he positions his digital camera on the hotel room desk. Filming of our latest vlog episode is about to begin.
  9. Read what precedes this chapter if need be: Muscle Buddies 1.0 & 1.1: https://muscle-growt...orkout-session/ Muscle Buddies 1.2: https://muscle-growt...eping-a-secret/ Muscle Buddies 1.3: https://muscle-growt...now-who-we-are/ Muscle Buddies 2.0 & 2.1: https://muscle-growt...ng-the-admirer/ Chapter 2.2: Let's Assume That We Can Get Along Spending time with Omar over the summer before his senior year of high school has been incredibly satisfying for Jeff, especially after the recommendation from his assistant football coach Colton Goodwin. His relationship with Dustin has stayed fairly strong despite both of the teenagers urges to let off some steam with various friends of theirs. Jeff’s decision to focus solely on his rugby training is surprising considering that coach Goodwin expected him to work towards football rather than the other sport. This could have played into the decision of why Colton has started spending more time with Dustin and ending up falling for the amateur bodybuilder. Jeff’s unusual relationship with Omar has never really been a problem for Dustin since he has always known that they have fooled around with each other. What he doesn’t know however is that they are doing it far more frequently than before. The sessions they have are more about just showing off how strong each of them is with the other. Jeff’s ability to lift Omar above his head now in his senior year compared to where he started at the beginning of the summer is beyond compare. Omar has grown weak for this kind of horseplay and Jeff is fully aware of it. After nearly every practice for rugby, they train together and wait until the rest of their team leaves before they move on to more important matters. Jeff’s fellow teammate West, who has spent some very personal time with Dustin as well, has had his theories about Jeff and Omar’s relationship. He has known his fellow classmate long enough to know when he is being fairly secretive. His curiosity finally gets the better of him one night after all of the other guys leave. Acting as if he is going to go shower after a training session, he walks down the corridor to the locker rooms and stops before sneaking around a corner to watch the two thick seniors as they start to horse around with each other on the Smith machine. They both are wearing tank tops that hug their beefy chests as well as tight pants that are nice and snug on their bloated legs and asses. West himself wears similar clothing and wastes no time before he pulls his tank and pants off to stand directly in the path of the two brutes. His cock is already dribbling a pool of precum on the ground in front of him just beyond the gym floor. He never once touches it with his hands as it throbs and bounces its way up and down. Jeff and Omar laugh as they strip down to where they are wearing nothing before they pounce on each other. In the beginning of this scene, it is Omar that is the aggressive one but quickly changes to where it is Jeff who takes full advantage of him with his size and strength. Jeff’s power turns Omar on greatly as he moans in his deep voice. West has never seen this side of his good friend before, the rough and rowdy beastly man who wants to be the one in control. Both bulky teens are already soaked and glisten with sweat as their muscles strain and tense with each movement they make. West moans to himself as he runs his hands up and down his ripped muscular chest and tweaks his hard nips making his cock jump each time. He makes thrusting motions in the air like he is fucking someone. He won’t hold out long because he was already horned up from the intense workout he just finished a few minutes previously. He grunts and seconds later sprays several jets of cum all over the ground as it coats the light colored wood. His voice manages to carry its way far enough over to get the attention of both Jeff and Omar which embarrasses him immensely. Before he can turn the other way to escape to the lockers, he hears Jeff’s voice calling for him to come over and join them. He stops moving in his tracks to think about his decision before he walks toward them. Both of the beefy teens grin as they get up off the floor and grab him by the legs to pick him up to put him on their shoulders. Jeff never really thought about West much beforehand, but after seeing his teammate get turned on so much by what him and Omar are doing, he is willing to include the smaller stud in the fun. Both Jeff and Omar take turns using West as a barbell as they deadlift him over and over again. It starts off with some light teasing and quickly moves into full-blown worship as the smaller teen can’t help but to massage both of the stud’s thick chests with his mouth and tongue. It isn’t long before West moves down to find their meaty cocks and works them over slowly and methodically making the big boys grunt each time he deep throats them. Jeff and Omar take turns punching at each other’s stomachs while West gets lost in massaging their immense rods. The taste of their precum sets him on fire as he feels another load building up in his own balls. West stops sucking them occasionally to look up at them to see what they are doing to each other. Jeff will flex his massive guns every time he notices West looking and smiles down at him before telling him to go back to servicing his cock. After several minutes of gulping on both poles, the smaller teen can feel them getting closer to bursting. He stops sucking finally to stroke them both in unison. Their hips thrust in sync with each other as West moans loudly feeling his body thrusting along with them. In a remarkable turn of events, both Jeff and Omar explode at the same time and hit West in the face as giant rivers of cum go splashing down his chest and onto his cock. The instant the white flood hits West’s rod, he shoots another big load all over the gym floor. Once he finishes, he gets up and hugs both men tightly. Jeff and Omar continue to smack each other around this time moving up to their pecs and grunting a few times. West asks them to kiss each other, but they decline. Instead, Jeff picks him up and wraps his thick arms around the fit teen’s waist and pulls him in to kiss his lips. West moans deeply as he puts his hands on Jeff’s head and leans into him. Omar smiles and asks if they need to be alone which prompts Jeff to immediately stop kissing the thinner teen. He asks the strongman if he would want a kiss from his friend since he is pretty good at it. Omar resists at first but then grabs the teen to turn him around. West peers into the big man’s brown eyes and swoons a little. They smile at each other before West leans in to lock lips with the burly powerlifter. To Omar’s surprise, he actually likes the way the fit teen kisses him and holds him tightly against his barrel chest. After a few minutes of light kissing, Omar puts West back down on the floor. Both Jeff and the big strongman rub their admirer’s head to show their affection for him before they grab their stuff to go to the locker room. West sits down in the same spot for a minute or two to take in what just happened. He finally gets up and follows behind them to go wash up from the amazing encounter he just had.
  10. So this is part of a bigger story I've written called "Charlie's Secret" (hence the rather clumsy intro) set in and around a big bodybuilding show. I'm currently doing some work to it, and thought the following could work as a short stand-alone piece. It features one of several bodybuilders from the story and explores the idea of self muscle worship which I've always found extremely hot! The thought of a guy who gets turned on by the image of his own freakishly muscular body. Chris "Freaky Peaks" Jackson Picking up his first place trophy in the Heavyweight division of one of the biggest bodybuilding competitions in the country, Chris "Freaky Peaks" Jackson said his goodbye's to his training partner and mentor and rushed back to his hotel room. By some miracle, he’d managed to get through an entire day of being surrounded by ripped, monstrous, attitude filled muscle bulls flexing and posing in stupidly hot posers without creaming in his own indecently shiny trunks. But now he needed to worship some serious muscle and finally blow his pent-up load. The fact that said muscle just happened to be attached to his own body was a minor issue for this sexually charged, muscle crazed mountain of a muscle beast. Exhausted from hours of flexing on stage, and drenched in tan, oil and sweat, most bodybuilders would have jumped in the shower and spent the rest of the evening collapsed on their hotel beds, but not Freaky Peaks. He was only in shredded competition condition for a short period of time and he intended to fully make the most of it. Locking his hotel room door and positioning himself in front of the full length mirror on the wall, Chris Jackson braced himself for the ultimate self-muscle worship session. Cranking out pose after pose in his tiny green trunks, Chris slowly became consumed by the freakish, otherworldly sights staring back at him from the mirror. Amazed at the striations peeking through his abnormally sized butt cheeks, entranced by the thinness of the sweat drenched skin covering his inhumanly shredded midsection, in awe of the sheer size of his incredible, tensed quads which were snaked in the nastiest veins, and aroused beyond comprehension at the thickness of the two balloon-like muscles sitting on his chest, Chris "Freaky Peaks" Jackson flexed and posed until he was completely lost in the image of his own monstrous mass of muscle. No body part of Chris’, however, provoked stronger feelings and emotions than his infamous, superhuman sized guns. His biceps had always been his strongest body part, developing so much easier and quicker than his others. He’d always loved that pumped feeling in his upper arms which came after a set of barbell curls, even in his humble days as a mere regular gym goer in his first gym, and now he was the proud owner of some of the biggest and freakiest guns on the planet. He’d seen his peaks a million times before, but never failed to be impressed by the sheer size and outrageous freakiness of the image of the enormous granite hard muscle erupting through his skin. On this particular day, in peak contest condition, his biceps looked more monstrous and freaky than they ever had. Staring at the reflection of his own incredible sized, skin stretched, barely human guns, his imagination suddenly ran away from him, as he envisioned a mile long queue of men stretched out in front of him, all waiting to wrap their hands around those famous peaks. Men of all shapes and sizes, the majority of them gay and obsessed with huge ripped muscle just like he was, but some of them straight men who, for whatever reason, just wanted to know what it felt like to touch the monstrously sized, vein decorated biceps of a genuine flat out muscle freak. He was certain the two young camera men who’d been filming him earlier that day in the pump room would be somewhere in that line. Neither had been particularly effeminate, but his gaydar had kicked in big time when the two of them had approached him, one more nervously than the other. They’d seemed particularly close, and had exchanged more than one knowing glance, and sheepish smirk. No doubt they were probably both now at home, masturbating themselves stupid over the image of the flexed, vein decorated guns of Chris “Freaky Peaks” Jackson. If he could hunt them both down and invite them into his hotel room to worship his freaky peaks until they jizzed in their boxer shorts, he was certain he'd make two muscle obsessed lads extremely happy. Freaky Peaks didn’t just stop at flexing and marvelling at the image of his own incredible muscle mass in the mirror, he also loved the feel of the freaky muscle beneath his fingertips, and his gigantic sized biceps were his favourite thing to touch. The feeling of running his hand over his rock hard ball of humungous sized bicep muscle, squeezing and feeling it bulging underneath his fingers was indescribable. He often wondered if any other bodybuilders indulged in these kinds of acts, and how many of them became so immensely aroused at, not only the image of their own excessively developed, beyond human muscle mass in the mirror, but the sensation of feeling said muscle bulge and flex under their fingers as he did. Either way, Freaky Peaks’ private muscle flexing sessions always concluded in one way, and today was no exception. In between cranking out his poses, flexing his supremely sized mass, and running his hands over his own, flexed muscle, a sweat drenched, and incredibly aroused Chris reached for his throbbing, rock hard cock, which had been let free from the shiny green material of his posing trunks, and started pounding away, groaning and grunting with pleasure as he pumped on his hard on with his right hand, the other firmly planted on one of his deliriously pumped pecs, his fingers digging into the insatiably thick mound of muscle which made up one half of his huge chest. His left hand then wandered further, running over the deeply chiselled abs blocks popping through the drum tight skin stretched over his stomach before veering south and running over his indecently thick mass of muscle making up his quads, tensing them and feeling the deep lines erupt underneath his fingertips, and then, with his other hand pumping away at his posing trunk covered hard on, Chris curled his left hand into a tight fist and as he watched his alien like, vein splattered, gigantic sized bicep muscle explode through his barely there skin, he reached the point of no return and he screamed with intense orgasmic pleasure as his dick exploded, and thick ropes of hot, white cum splattered on to the mirror before him.
  11. momoware

    Serving Muscle Daddy chapter 1

    I wrote this story today and I've wanted to for ages, based on a guy in his mid-50s I know who recently got into competitive bodybuilding. He's so gruff and manly and when we see each other in the street or in town he slaps me on the back and I wish I was one of his sons. This is what I imagine he and his grown sons get up to behind closed doors. Enjoy! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dave looked really good. He had turned fifty a nine months prior and had never felt better. Life seemed to be back on track for the guy, who had not had the easiest of times. His high school sweetheart Angela, with whom he had sired two sons, had been gone from his life for twenty six lonely years. His love for her had been so profound that he had never even glanced in the direction of another woman since her passing. Until her death he had been a keen gym goer and amateur bodybuilder, and she loved when he would bounce his meaty pecs or flex his powerful arms for her. It made her feel safe, and him feel masterful and strong, like a trusty protector of his beloved treasure. After she was gone he stopped paying attention to this aspect of his life, turning his attention to being a dutiful father for the lads and working hard to provide for them. It was as he approached the milestone birthday that he caught a glimpse of himself in the shower, his shoulders still broad and his waist still trim, that the idea crossed his mind to head to the home gym in the basement and see if any of his formidable strength remained. He was to be pleasantly surprised as he loaded up a squat rack with heavy weights, dropped to ground with them over his shoulders and bounced up effortlessly. The adrenaline was instant and a rush of excitement coursed through his body. After this exercise his quads were bursting with veins and pulsating wildly. “This is definitely something I could get back into.” He pondered. Fast forward to Christmas Eve, as Dave sat by the fire in the living room with the newspaper and a glass of wine, his bulging muscular frame filling the armchair his sons entered the room. “Ah there you are boys! I was wondering where you’d both got to. Come and join me on the couch.” The beast of a man stood up, his mass eclipsing the two smaller men who had sprung from his seed. He sat in the middle of the sofa and was joined on either side by Andreas and Robert. He put his arms around their necks and brought them in to nuzzle his huge, hard chest and they obediently and adoringly rested, each head gently placed on one solid pec. Dave began to rub his sons’ backs gently, and then not so gently. After not long his arm extended further and further south and was massaging their buttocks. Massaging them hard. The boys each began to squeeze one of their dad’s thick nipples, which immediately began to get thicker and harder. A small moan came out of each of their soft mouths as a large middle finger entered their rectum. “Shhhhh boys, don’t respond, just let it happen, ease into it.” Upon their father’s instruction their anuses appeared to relax and their expressions of anguish turned to beaming smiles and Dave began to thrust his finger in and out of the tight holes. “Boys I never imagined we’d have such a happy Christmas after your mother died. This is such a delight, I love you both so much.” He then began to passionately kiss Andreas, thrusting his tongue down his son’s throat. “Daddy we love you too. Every day that Andy and I stay home to look after all of your needs is a dream come true, we love our daddy!” purred Robert into dad’s ear. This pleased Dave and he flipped his body over, leaving Andreas to catch his breath, and began thrusting his giant body against Robert’s slight pudgy build. Robert moaned as Dave bit down on his lower lip before digging his warm wet tongue into his mouth. “Robbie you’re so tasty, just what I needed after a big dinner!” Dave ripped off his sweater showing a distended, but nonetheless ripped, belly from the aforementioned meal. The trousers came next and his gigantic throbbing cock made quick work of tearing through his tight boxers. “Andy, worship my body like a good boy while I smash your brother’s arse open!” Andreas didn’t need to be told twice and he got down on the floor, licking his father’s toes and then moving up the rippling legs, first kissing and groping the calf muscles that jutted out like coarse diamonds and then moving his head up between the beefy red hot thighs. He kissed the insides of his dad’s quads as Dave tightened his grip on his son’s head as his pleasure intensified. “Come on Robbie, time to see if I loosened you up enough.” In less than a second he undressed his son and turned him over, burying his handsome face in the asshole, excavating the deep crevice with his tongue. “Mmmmmm Robbie you taste so good! You’re truly the fruit of my loins, I can’t wait to get you properly lubed up to take daddy’s pillar of flesh!” Robert was in a trance, so thrilled to be dominated by his possessive, caring daddy and immediately widened his rectum, knowing that an enormous and powerful force was about to enter, and would not be soft or gentle. Having been widened by his father’s loving tongue and finger there was no difficulty slipping in his member which glided beautifully in and out of his son’s snatch. Dave beat his chest as he pounded his son’s ass and grunted primordially like a wild animal as he felt the throes of orgasm approaching. He tightened his grip on Robert’s waist as he pumped his cock into the little man’s ass three more times, unleashing a flood of semen which flew up Robert’s ass and began leaking a steady warm ooze down his thighs and onto the floor. It was so warm that it began to steam as it made contact with the winter air outside. Whilst Robbie lay on his back on the couch, continuously dripping from his asshole, Dave was not yet sated. He looked over to Andreas, his more muscular but still diminutive son and indicated that it was his turn. Andreas removed his shirt and pants and stood looking up to his father in just his underpants. Dave wrapped his arms around Andreas and began to feel his body up. “You two boys remind me of your mother and myself years ago. Robbie you’re lovely and soft, smooth all over. Putting my dick in you is like sticking it to your mum’s tight wet pussy, and you scream and howl like she used to, like you can’t decide whether you’re on cloud nine to have my godly dick inside you or whether you’re terrified it’s going to rip you wide open. Andy,” he said, caressing his son’s chiselled face “you’re like me when I was in my 20s. Tight abs, nice pair of pecs and wide shoulders. Still a baby compared to me, but I love seeing the little similarities between us. And the way your six pack is always covered in stubble from you shaving that stubborn hair that won’t stop growing. Just drives me wild, let me stick my head in there!” He proceeded to motorboat his son’s pecs. He stood side by side next to his son, spread his legs slightly, and lifted his arms in the air, bringing his large hands into fists next to his head forming an impressive front double biceps pose. Andreas followed, the arrogant smirk on his face warming Dave’s heart. He put his hands around Andreas’ left biceps, squeezing them with ease. The two continues to pose down as Robert crawled over to the two of them and began worshiping them. Sucking his father’s still erect cock and working Andreas’ with his hand. “You really are just like your mother Robbie, such a good sucker. Once you’ve made me cum a second time I’m going to reward you by letting you come to bed with me.” Robert began to suck even harder and faster, he loved going to bed with his daddy, and he would lay in his daddy’s arms al night jerking off again and again, the two of them waking up in a sticky pool of both of their discharges that flooded over the edge of the bed and all over the floor. As his father shot his load down his son’s throat, Robert blacked out, probably deprived of oxygen and enjoyed several hours of comatose muscle worship dreams.
  12. "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After NG "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - Inside Zaftig's Lab: The Musclemen Revealed Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. To start back at the beginning with Chapter One, click on the link below: "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped October 22nd, 2017 After the bout between Casey and Abdul, the musclemen retired to their separate corners of the compound. The vanquished Abdul, rivulets of dried cum caked to his physique, dragged Pedro along with him back to quarters. “Service me,” he growled. He threw open the door to his room and tossed Pedro onto the floor. Five minutes later, after a satisfying dump and a quick infusion of P21, Abdul was in the center of his room, working out on a speed punching bag hanging from the ceiling. His red, raw fists pummeled the stained leather furiously while Pedro gingerly danced around him, carefully washing the cum off his physique with a wet towel. Occasionally he leaned in and gingerly pressed a warm tongue against the muscle giant’s body, licking the cum-covered muscles respectfully, hoping not to get swatted away. It didn’t happen. Emboldened, he finished cleaning off his god. He took a deep breath, and grabbed ahold of Abdul's musclebutt. "Permission to worship?" he asked hopefully. Abdul grunted, and nodded slightly. Pedro deeply buried his face in the muscleman’s rock hard pillow glutes, feeling the heaviness of iron-like musclebutt cheeks violently knocking his head right and left as Abdul rhythmically punched the bag. This was what his god wanted. He knew this. Abdul said nothing, but slightly arched his back, to better extend his ass and receive the comfort of Pedro’s tongue up his butthole. They lasted like this long into the night, Abdul punching the bag with fury, Pedro probing his tongue deeply into his gyrating asshole, until Abdul reached back, grabbed Pedro by the back of the head, brought him violently around, threw him into the air and forced his massive penis into the teen’s small, hard butt. He fucked the boy mercilessly for about ten minutes, Pedro screaming happily with insane delight, his cries echoing down the corridor, as the giant member pleasurably pounded his butthole into raw meat. When he was near to climax, he pulled out and came about a quart all over Pedro’s writhing, grateful little bottom, grunting deeply as he shot, a bear in the woods. UNGH UNGH UGNH YEAH A moment later he push-kicked Pedro’s butt away. Pedro went sprawling, his hard little bottom covered with cum. “Get out of here,” he snarled, but with something like warmth, or so Pedro thought. “Yes, sir!” Pedro squeaked, and ran for the door. Abdul was asleep in 2 minutes. He dreamed only of revenge. Pedro scampered back to his room, where he masturbated gleefully for the next hour, envisioning a world of musclemen as he worked his pretty little cock into repeated starbursts of cum frenzy. He finally drifted into a woozy, muscle-filled sleep about 3 AM, knowing he’d have to be up by 6 to start breakfast with the compound chefs for the 19 musclemen. It was heaven. He was living in heaven. Lang and Alvarez drifted back to Alvarez’s room, where they posed-and-approved for about 45 minutes before falling asleep on the dais, Alvarez’s cock languidly filling Lang’s mouth, their ripped posers discarded and on the floor. Schumacher, Jin, Washington, Obatu and LeFevre carried the knocked-out Blankenship to his room. Fortunately, P-21 strengthened bones, too, and Blankenship’s black and blue jaw was okay – otherwise, it might well have been shattered by the force of Abdul’s powerful punch. They retired separately to their rooms and reflected on what they’d seen tonight. This Rockland kid was a threat. In their separate quarters all five men jerked off, and thought. And thought. And jerked off. Hearing Pedro’s echoing, ecstatic cries as he was being masterfully buttfucked by Adbul, each man shot muscle cum up and out into the dark, splashing onto their abs, the floor, the ceiling, everywhere. Blankenship, of course, was out for the night. Deep in his knocked cold sleep, he dreamt vaguely of doing endless sets of curls. And squats. Especially squats. He smiled in his sleep, two teeth missing. Tiffany, smug and satisfied and unaware his life was about to drastically change, drifted off. He remembered Casey from the world outside, but it was clear the big dumb muscleboy didn’t remember him. Yet. Eli Meyer, quietly determined to get off on real muscle, and not just fantasy, followed Hension back to his room. He knocked on the door, and Hension, startled, opened up. Meyer smiled. He went in. For the next hour the two men took turns with some heavy butt fucking. In turns, each muscleboy’s big dick met the other’s hard glutes and sweetly receiving butthole as they fucked each other silently in the dark. Finally Hension spoke, even as Meyer ploughed him. “Stinkface me,” he said, emphasizing the words, turning his head back and to the side so that the deaf Meyer could read his lips. It was all he said. It was all he had to say. Meyer nodded agreement, pulled his thick cock out of Hension’s butthole, got up and squatted down onto Hension’s handsome face, burying him in striated, iron glutes. He rotated and jerked his big dick. A few minutes later both men came, cum splashing sloppily onto Hension’s ripped abs, pooling in the deep valleys of muscle. And five minutes after that, both were curled up and asleep on the floor, wrapped deeply into each other’s muscles. In their separate quarters, McIntyre and Duncan, ever quiet and reflective, sat up awhile and listened to the compound’s nocturnal moans and gasps, punctuated by the sounds of the speed bag, and then the butt fucking drifting down the corridors. Finally each man reached into his pouch and jerked off again before hitting the hay. Gunst headed right to the gym. He tooled himself through a punishing biceps workout, doing curls long into the night, then flexing and inspecting. Gotta get these guns bigger, he grumbled to himself. Eventually he crawled off to quarters and to bed, and without jerking off. The others – Chad, Bogarde, and Waring – stood in a darkened corner of the hallway leading from the wrestling room, hungrily sucking one another’s cocks and taking turns butt fucking for an hour or so, before turning in for the night. And in the backs of the minds of all the men on campus were visions of the perhaps-perfect newest member of the club, the young bodybuilder whose gigantic, ripped and raw physique they had gotten their first taste of this evening. Moster, in his quarters, was satisfied. He slept without dreaming. He had to pick up Casey in the cadet dorms mid morning, and bring him back up the hill to his new muscle life. Unaware of the muscle sex going on in the compound behind him, and unaware of how his muscles started it all, a shuttle bus took sole passenger Casey back down the hill the two miles to the cadet dorm near the front gates, where he had been living and training the last two years. ************* Early the next morning, after his usual early morning workout and a breakfast of two steaks, 6 eggs, unbuttered toast, a quart of yogurt and 3 cups of black coffee, Casey went back to his room and packed his few possessions in preparation for his move up the hill to the main compound. His black eye still stung from the night before, but it also looked – well – incredibly hot. Or so Casey thought, inspecting it closely in his mirror. There were six other cadets in the dorm. Five of them gathered to quietly watch him pack up his few belongings, giving him congratulations and good luck and a sad little goodbye party. It was just a few protein bars, a colorful do-rag, a new gym bag (which they all chipped in on) and five slightly torn oversized XXXL-sized jockstraps. Casey knew they went to some trouble to get everything together. He was deeply grateful. But he didn’t know what to say. In truth, Casey hadn’t really gotten to know any of his fellow cadets in the two years he had been in residence in the cadet dorm. It was not from any snobbery, but from shyness and his natural reticence against intimacy in dormitory settings. All the same, apart from Miles Donovan and Ramon Ramon, Casey counted them as among his few friends in the world. “I’m gonna miss you guys,” he said. He sniffed a little. These guys were like him. Lonely, nice boys who had nowhere to go except the gym, and nothing to do but pound their bodies every day, growing big muscles. Over 1450 pounds of burgeoning, testosterone-fueled teen muscle gathered in 10 x 16 square foot room. And there was a lot of emotion in the air. Casey was their hero, and at 310 pounds, and at just 18 years of age, he was already far and away the biggest of all of them. Something had to happen. “You been ready a long time for those dudes,” said Cadet Tommy Rowenstein, a tousled blond middleweight Jewish Tom Sawyer of muscleboy who liked to work on his pecs. “Surprised they didn’t ask you long ago.” “Guess they know best when I’m ready.” “That how you got the shiner, Case?” “Shut up, dick wad.” “Can we come up the hill visit you?” asked Alan Owenbee, a sweet-faced young cadet with a friendly face and a slightly sub par physique that all knew would never develop much further. “Naw, we can’t go up there,” said Cadet Brent Ogden. “You know the rules. Plebes only by invitation. And they never invite us.” He sounded forlorn. “Sure,” said Casey. “You can come. I’ll ask. I’ll get permission. You can all come. We can all train together up there in the big gym.” “Gee, you think? Really??” “Shit, thanks, Case!” “Yeah, thanks!” The boys couldn’t believe the possible good news, and were now almost bouncing with excitement. “I’m gonna work on my guns with ya!” shouted Ogden. The others glanced at Ogden and grinned. An angel-faced kid with red hair, he had nice big muscles for a 15-year old, and surprisingly ripped abs, already weighing in at 185 pounds. He also had a complete inability to filter his speech. They all suspected he was a little slow. “At last, someone even dumber than me, “ Casey thought. No one knew whether or not he had any family; like Casey, Ogden was a foundling. Casey tousled his hair affectionately and zipped up his duffel. “I’ll always work on my guns with you, Brent.” Ogden grinned from ear to ear, his life made. He grew beet red with embarrassment and pleasure and spent the next few minutes inspecting his own biceps, flexing and unflexing them thoughtfully. Another cadet with more promise, and lot more self confidence, Brian Banks, a handsome black-haired extra lean 1950s greaser type turned bodybuilder, watched Casey from the corner, perched on the window seat, his deep-lidded dark eyes half closed. “So, Case, what happened last night?” “I’m not sure yet.” He turned and looked helplessly at all of them. They were waiting for some kind of an answer. “Yeah, Case, what happened?” He knew all the cadets admired and respected him. Overall, they were a pretty good bunch of guys, even if for the most part they had no muscle future. But he could use some friends, if last night’s wrestling match had been any indication of where this was all headed. And he was still thinking about last night. Those bodybuilders up the hill were a wild and crazy bunch. Huge, every one of them, the biggest musclemen Casey had ever seen, or even imagined. And even the younger guys, like that pretty-faced dude Hension, the mute Eli Meyer, and the wide-eyed Lang, seemed to have agenda of their own. And then there was that big mean bull, the Turkish guy, Karim Abdul. And Schumacher, who had growled at him and threatened him. Scary dudes. But hot. The wrestling was fun, though, when he thought about it. Casey had surprised at himself, at how skilled he was, how strong and fast. But then he had learned a lot from Ramon Ramon at Miles Donovan’s, and though Ramon was 3 times his age and far smaller, Ramon could always beat him. So he learned from the best. And – true – a few times when Casey shot his load on the wrestling mat after a bout, Ramon Ramon had joined him. There was something fun, something special about the tough, grizzled old daddy Latin wrestler happily pounding his hairy big meat, lying there next to Casey on a slick, sweat-drenched, stinky wrestling mat. And Casey knew Ramon was straight. No sissy, he. Straight straight straight, with a hot, mean, pretty little wife he fucked hard every night, or so he said. Casey had no reason to doubt him. I wonder how Abdul would do wrestling with Ramon? Casey wondered. And then, after all, all the bodybuilders had shot their loads all over the two of them last night at the end of the wrestling match, all over him and Abdul. He hadn’t expected that. Was it an insult? Or an honor? Casey was still having trouble taking it all in. And what about that punch that Abdul threw at Blankenship? It was awesome. Abdul’s fist shot out like a cannon, catching the handsome, smirking bodybuilder Blankenship right on the point of the chin. Probably broke his jaw. The guy’s feet never touched the ground. He just flew into the air and landed about 20 feet away. And then there was afterwards, with Moster closely inspecting his dick and that little ginger muscledude Tiffany sucking it just to find out how big it really was. Measuring dick size by mouth. It was all pretty weird. And he never even did get to do even a basic posing routine. He wanted to show these guys how much he liked to pose. Maybe he could pose for them later today? Casey really liked to pose. He did it for hours, alone in his room, peering into his crummy full-length mirror, looking for any improvements, and weaknesses, any new veins, any new striations, any sign of lingering babyfat. He wasn’t used to an audience. Casey had never known many people, and he certainly had never competed onstage, even though Miles Donovan had encouraged him to consider it. And now that he had trained hard, lived for training and diet and posing for so many years, now with the Home behind him and all the bullies, he was ready for others to see how big his muscles were. He was ready to pose for admirers. For a crowd. He hadn’t done that yet. So maybe these guys would accept him more if he posed for them? The babyfat was long gone, after all. And he was sure he could learn a few things, too. Maybe get some pointers from that dude Alvarez. He heard that Alvarez and Lang were always practicing their posing. But in any event, Casey now knew, after last night, that just having big muscle wasn’t enough. A big cock was pretty important, too. For the first time he was beginning to feel relieved, even joyful about his huge member. He had always been so embarrassed about it, he could never hide it, it was always prominent in his jeans, in whatever he wore. People could always see it flopping around in his pants, pushing out his fly in an obscene bulge. And he hadn’t found posing trunks that he really fit in yet. Not trunks, at least, that he wasn’t always popping out of, or worse, ripping the fabrics to shreds with his first big hardon. And posing usually gave him a hardon, which he’d have to stop and take care of. He'd shoot pints of milky thick cum against his mirror, and then he'd have to stop and get a roll of paper towels to clean it al up before he could start again. Or else he wouldn't have been able to see his reflection. And the sight of his muscles was what made him cum so ferociously. It would certainly be a challenge onstage, if he ever decided to compete. He had bought a few posers from online, trying them out, checking for the right colors. But so far, everything he had bought was just so….well….ridiculously inadequate. He hadn’t even begun to think about colors. Even if he managed to get the posers up his treetrunk quads, there was no way the simple kiddie-type pouches were able to cover his hefty manfruit. To say nothing of containing his coconut-sized balls. Still. Even so. “Good thing I got this big meat after all. I guess.” He muttered to himself as he walked, bowlegged as always with his bodybuilder waddle, over to the mirror. The cadets watched him as he walked across the small dorm room. “Hunh?” “What’s that, Casey? About your meat?” Ogden looked up, still inspecting his biceps, but suddenly alert to what was going on in the room. Casey looked back at them and pointed down to the sagging bulge that loomed out of the front of his baggies. “I said, it’s a good thing I got this super big meat. All the guys up there are hung huge. It’s important to them. Sergeant Moster showed me.” He thought for a moment. Maybe those dudes knew where to get posers that actually fit? Or maybe they had them made privately? Probably they did. They had to. And certainly from the layout of the place and the size of the gym and the wrestling room, they could afford a few extra yards of reinforced spandex to hold in a few giant cocks. Banks was studiedly casual. He inspected Casey’s black eye a little more closely and nodded, as if a question was answered. “Unh hunh. Bet he did. I heard about Sergeant Rod Moster. Seems he was there too. He give you that black eye?” “Yeah, he’s the dude in charge. He was there. And no, he didn’t give this to me.” Casey turned back and gazed at his package in the mirror. He repeated. “I had to fight one of them.” “Who?” asked Owenbee, breathless and getting hard now. “Abdul. Karim Abdul.” He paused. “You should see him this morning.” “He got a big package, too?” Casey colored, embarrassed. “Yeah, he does. I mean, I didn’t see it. Well, I didn’t see it well. I mean, I didn’t see it close up….” He stopped, confused. The guys were looking at him. “Well, one thing, these are the biggest goddam dudes I ever saw in my life.” “Lookin’ good?” “Fucking awesome. All of them. Moster’s like 7’ tall. No bodyfat. Biceps the size of my head. And…” “Big package?” “Yeah. He has the biggest dick. They say it’s the biggest dick on earth.” Casey turned back and began to flex for himself feverishly in the mirror. He had to get bigger. Banks liked Casey well enough and would miss him in the dorms. Even if the young muscle giant was a little dopey and innocent. Okay, Casey was stupid. Everyone knew it. Dumb as a bag of hammers. But a sweet guy, if you didn’t get on his wrong side. And besides, he’d also long had eyes for Casey’s astonishingly rounded, rock hard glutes, never mind the cock, and now knew he probably wasn’t gonna dip his stick inside the promised land of Casey’s musclebutt for a long time to come. If ever. Or even suck his dick. Maybe some day. Oh, well. Still, he wished Casey well. He was a good dude. He’d stand up for him any time. Now he stood behind him, watching his superwide batwing lats as he posed in the mirror, watching his perfect big round rolling glutes quivering a little in the seat of his stretched-tight pants. “I hear there’s a lot of sex in the main compound,” he said slyly. “Yeah, I guess there is.” Casey slowed down posing, caught Banks’ eye in the mirror, was a little circumspect. Not that he knew what the word meant, but that is what he was at that moment. “No chicks, though?” “No, I guess there ain’t. I didn’t see any last night.” Casey blew out a blast of air, followed by a honk of laughter. The tension eased. He grabbed his duffel and turned around towards the boys. “No chicks!” “Good!” said Ogden, still inspecting his biceps. “Guess I’m big enough. Thanks for the party, guys,” he added. “And the, um….” He gestured to his duffel bag. “….the extra jockstraps…..I can always use them.” “Actually, two of them were already yours. We just re-retrieved them from….somebody…” said Rowenstein. Owenbee turned crimson with shame and embarrassment. “Hey. Thanks. Alan, you were always a good friend. Here. Wait a moment.” Casey put his duffel down, lifted his heavy sweatshirt and kicked out of his baggies, stepping out of them fast and surprisingly easily over his big feet. “I have to get these off fast sometimes, so I cut out the, you know, drawstrings around the pants legs, to make it easier to fit over my shoes. Sometimes I don’t have a lot of time before…..” His voice trailed off. “You know.” Banks nodded, feigning seriousness. “We know.” All the cadets knew that sometimes during workouts Casey suddenly had to shoot a load, and to avoid coating his baggies with splotches of his unusually heavy, copious cumspurts, he ripped off his sweatpants and shot into a bucket that he kept on the side of the gym floor. By the end of the workout, the bucket was often half full. A few of the boys would often sneak away with it afterwards, loving the scent, loving the taste, drinking it all down, hoping it would make them grow into a muscle monster like Casey. “Yeah. We all know,” said Ogden. Owenbee and Rowenstein both nodded seriously. “Yeah, you got a problem, dude.” Rowenstein couldn’t help chuckling a little. “Big problem.” Then they both grinned, their smooth boyish faces lighting up. “I know.” Casey smiled. “So why is it, by the way, all this time I been here, that so many of my jocks go missing?” Shuffling of feet. Heads down. “Aw, Case…..” said Ogden. He stood before them in his sagging, bulging jock. “This one is new, I just got it.” All knew he had to order his jocks and posers online. Standard sizes just didn’t fit, and then the posers just didn’t last. “Here.” He curled his thumbs around the reinforced jock straps on his loins and tugged. His cock popped out and hung free, 10 solid inches of soft thick swaying girth. “Jesus,” breathed Owenbee. Banks was impressed. Ogden just panted. He pulled his new jockstrap down over his massive quads and stepped out of it carefully, lifting each big, smooth foot slowly, and then handing it to Owenbee. “You always been a good friend to me.” Casey teared up a little, but wasn’t so sentimental that he didn’t playfully waggle his penis’ full 10 inch soft, flaccid weight, then whipping it heavily from side to side. Smack! Smack! For a moment he slapped it heavily from quad to quad, and then looked up at Owenbee and Ogden and smiled sweetly. “It’s too big for most jocks,” he explained. “Yes, we’ve noticed,” said Banks, very serious. Owenbee took the jock gratefully, raised it to his nose and took a deep whiff. In his jeans his young teen cock throbbed to life. “Gee, thanks, Casey!” “Don’t mention it.” Casey pulled his baggies back up, covering his cock. “Going commando, Case?” asked Banks. Casey looked at him blankly. “I don’t know what that means.” “You will.” Casey shrugged, and sat down to lace his shoes. “Guess I better be going. Say goodbye to Danny Taylor. Where’s he this morning?” “His mama called. She wanted him back in Santa Barbara. He’ll be back tonight. He said to say goodbye.” He eyed the heavy sagging bulge in Casey’s lap. His cock was aching to get back out again, taste the air, straining the crotch of his sweatpants, pointing downward but twitching, threatening to rise, bulging in the fabric every which way. Banks sniffed a little, seemingly unconcerned, but Casey knew Banks probably missed his buddy Danny, the only cadet in the squad who actually came from a family and a good home. A blond surfer-dude turned bodybuilder, Danny and Brian were always pumping together and then going out looking for girls and to get laid. And unlike The Nineteen up the hill, the young cadets, still not indoctrinated into the squad, could come and go as they pleased. Not that these young muscleboys had anywhere to go….other than the gym and the bars in nearby San Jose, or maybe further up the coast to San Francisco. “Well…..goodbye then. Come and see me.” “Hey, dude. Before you go….give us one last flex?” asked Ogden shyly. “Yeah, dude. Pose for us one more time,” said Owenbee. “Like you used to do before you got so serious.” “Yeah, Case. Go ahead. Let’s see what you got.” That from Banks. Casey looked closely at Banks. “Sure, guys. Yeah. Be glad to.” He stepped back into the room and ripped off his sweatshirt. The muscle cadets crowded around him eagerly. He stood shirtless, his huge muscles gleaming in the morning light. “Here goes. Pow,” said Casey. He flexed a huge right arm bicep and moved his left hand back to the back of his head, ‘doin’ hair’ like the young Tom Platz from 40 years ago. “Wow!” “Jeez, Case, yer bigger than ever!” “Fuckin huge, man!” “That’s “doin’ hair,” dudes. Platz. ‘Doin’ hair,’ ” he repeated. “Can I feel it?” ‘My hair?” “No, dude….” “He wants to feel your muscles, Casey,” Banks explained, with exaggerated patience. “Oh. Sure.” Casey thought a moment. “Yeah! Sure! Come on!” Owenbee stepped forward eagerly and grabbed Casey’s biceps. His fingers ran over the vascular triple-heads. “Sure is nice!” he yelled. “How big?” He tapped the hardness of the peaks with his fingers, which bounced back. Impenetrably hard. “I don’t know. 25 inches? 27? I don’t know. Here come some big pecs.” He gave them a side chest, popping his pecs, his pouty brown nipples pointing down to the carpet. “Boom,” said Casey. “Wow! Frigging huge!” “You’re swole, man!” “Yeah, I got big pecs,” said Casey modestly, turning his head back, inspecting his two huge pectoral globes in the mirror. He bounced them up and down thoughtfully. “May I lick your nipples, Casey?” squealed Ogden. Casey was confused a moment. He stopped and turned and looked quizzically at Ogden. For a moment the two muscleboys were afraid, afraid that Casey would start handing out a roomful of black eyes and broken noses, powerful punches that were sure and methodical and swift and punishing. But Banks wasn’t afraid. “You like this, dontcha Case?” It didn’t happen. “Sure, I guess. Yeah. I like it. Come on up and lick ‘em. I never got licked and touched when I posed before. Let alone watched.” He thought some more. “Guess I do like it! Can you reach? Here’s another. Bam,” he said, swinging into a front lats pose. “Bam and double bam.” Ogden scampered up, reached wide, grabbed Casey by both lats and began eagely to lick his nipples. “You got awesome pecs, dude!” “You’re strong, too,” said Banks calmly. “Those dudes up there on the hill as strong as you?” “Yeah, I think they are.” Casey was inspecting his front lats pose in the mirror. “You’re in my way,” he said to Ogden. “I can’t see.” “Sorry, Case!” “Just move to the side a little so I can check myself out.” Ogden quickly stepped aside and leaned in, licking one nipple. “Okay, that’s enough. Reach around if you have too.” “How thick is your neck, Case?” “About 25 inches I think.” “How about your quads?” “Sure.” Casey pumped and rotated his thighs, still covered up in the baggies. “Oh, I forgot. Guess you can’t see.” He rolled them down to his ankles and stood in the center of the room, his pants down, flexing for his buddies. His penis loomed heavily over mountains of muscle and veins as he pensively rotated his quads for all the muscleboys to see. The muscleboys licked their lips. “No, I mean, how big are they?” “I dunno. 33 inches? Never measured.” He rotated a huge quad slowly, staring intently at it. “Got some new veins popping in here. Look at that diamond shape. Hard.” He slapped his quads, both of them. “They’re hard, man! See how hard I am? You guys see it?” Banks eased his nicely rounded butt off the window seat, where he’d been perched, watching the proceedings. He strolled over to Casey, thumbs hooked in his tight jeans, his black spandex t-shirt rippling with extra lean, hairy muscle. His own appreciable bulge flopped lazily from side to side in his fly as he walked slowly towards Casey. “Dude, I think you like to get worshipped.” “Hunh?” Casey turned to him and whipped up a pair of double bi’s. “Check out these gunsssss……” “I see ‘em.” Banks patted them firmly. Yeah. Solid. Cannonballs. Triple-headers. Laced with thick veins. He kneaded solid muscle between calloused thumb and finger. He pulled. Paper-thin skin. “These are biceps…. “ said Casey, breathing heavy, loving every second of it. “Nice. They are. Big biceps. Very nice indeed. But my tastes run to….something……darker……” He knew all about Moster. That was the dude he wanted. Banks turned to Ogden, absorbed in licking Casey’s big brown nipples. “Whyn’t you lick his biceps too, dude? He said he likes to get licked.” He turned to Casey. “Dontcha, Case?” “I’m gonna pop you right in the eye,” Casey said, but he smiled. He flexed mightily. “C’mon, lick ‘em.” His steely fists strained red. Suddenly he longed to punch Banks in the eye. Give him a big black eye. No, two black eyes. He wasn’t mad. He just wanted to punch him. “Yeah, lick his biceps, dude. And kiss ‘em for us, Case.” “Hunh??” “Kiss your biceps, bro! G’wan, kiss ‘em!” “Why do I want to do that?” “Try it and see. See how it feels.” Casey shrugged. His traps bounced up a little and bumped Owenbee’s head, who was trying to lean in to get a closer feel on Casey’s bi’s. “Oh. Sorry.” Meanwhile Ogden was now licking his right biceps, so Casey turned to the left and, leaning in while raising an elbow, began to softly lick and kiss his bulging cannonball bi’s. Casey forgot all about wanting to punch Banks and continued flexing. Hmmm. The licking felt good. “This feels good,” he announced. He kissed himself again, and turned, grinning cockily to Banks. “Guess I won’t bust you in the eye right now.” Banks smiled. He understood. “It’s okay, Casey. I’m your friend. You can trust me. And the boys.” “But I still wanna slug you.” “You just want to slug somebody. Not me.” “Guess you’re right. But sometime soon I’m gonna start some slugging.” He flexed. “Look at these big gunnnnssss….” he repeated. By now the other four cadets were grouped around Casey, touching, feeling, pawing, stroking, kissing and licking every muscle they could reach, climbing over him, feeling him, all while remaining respectfully distant from the heavily looming cock. Owenbee got on his knees and knelt before Casey’s massive, exposed rear, began caressing the twin globes of Casey’s monster round, hard butt, feeling where the gluteus muscles rolled in, where they bulged out, where they lead down to mammoth obtruding hamstrings and up to the small of his back. He wanted to bury his young, smooth face into the deep buttcrack, but knew he’d better not. He wanted to lick it, too. But he knew that might not be a good idea, either. Not yet, anyway. So he contented himself just to do deep tissue massage on the two giant round butt orbs before him, following their rolling movements as Casey posed above him. It was like kneading iron. But he loved it. “How do you feel, Case?” Banks was stroking Casey’s broad upper pec shelf with a connoisseur’s appreciation. “Good. I feel very good. I like flexing for you guys.” “Good. And we like when you flex for us. Nice pecs.” Banks flicked one of Casey’s nipples with a thumb and forefinger. Casey responded, immediately ballooning his pecs hugely, digging his fists into solid rippled obliques and expanding chest muscles high to the skies, so it seemed, to the ceiling and beyond. “This is called worship, by the way,” Banks added. “The way the guys are touching you now. The way I am touching you.” He ran a smooth hand across his pecs and looked him deeply in the eyes. “Admiring you. Admiring your muscles. Getting off on your muscles. That’s worship.” “You’re huge, Case,” said Ogden. “Big fucking muscleman,” said Owenbee. “Awesome muscles, dude,” said Rowenstein. “Tell us what you’re thinking, Case,” said Banks. Casey didn’t know what he was thinking. Was he even thinking? He was just flexing. No, he was thinking. He was seeing….something. Something distant. Pure and good. He breathed out, let out a massive block of air, crunched up, sucked in, intake, breath, blew it out, then more blooming muscle. Expanding everywhere, blowing up, hard and solid and good. He was… …..where was he?.... “Tell us, Case,” repeated Banks softly. “Where are you?” “On the moon, I guess.” He sucked in, expanded his pecs again, turned, inadvertently pushing the boys to the floor, looked in the mirror. The room was quiet. The muscle cadets scrambled away a little, but still touching, still feeling muscle. Tension increased in the room. It was silent except for the sounds of heavy breathing. Casey began to move. He swung from pose to pose. His cock swayed heavily as he moved, slapping his quads. Front biceps. Side chest, front lat spread. Most muscular, the famous crab shot, his veins exploding everywhere, his enormous fists clenched, held steadily before him. “Hold that one,” said Banks. “I think we all want to see this one.” Casey held still. His face grew red, then redder, then beet-red. The veins on his thick neck popped out like huge pylons. And even his massive cock began to retreat a little up into his loins as his blood was needed elsewhere. “Guys? Let’s check out these veins. Okay, Case?” “…yeah…..okay…” “You can breathe, though.” “Okay, thanks.” He breathed in and out. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, searching for flaws, admiring rivers of vascularity, popping iron muscles. “Just don’t relax. Keep flexing. Keep that pose. Keep crunching.” “Can I take your picture, Case?” asked Rowenstein, begging a little. “My picture….?” Casey blew out air. He could barely think. He was just dreaming now. It was a wall, a planet, a universe of his muscle. “Keep crunching. Keep it swole,” said Banks quietly. He touched an iron biceps. “Yeah, okay.” Casey seemed befuddled, but it was because of the most muscular pose, and ….well…because he was still dreaming, now on that distant planet somewhere, where it was all about……muscle. His muscle, to be specific. Where he was posing high on a mountain, still visible to all, to thousands below, thousands of admiring men in the valley beneath him, all calling his name, all playing with their giant tools, their cum spurting and flying, the sun behind him, sweat in his eyes - “A picture. My cellphone? For, um, ….later?” “Later?” Casey barely heard him. “Yeah, later. To admire you later…..whenever I want to…..” The dream was broken for a moment and there was Rowenstein, shrugging and smiling, red-faced, embarrassed. Crab shots were his thing. He loved the solid billboard of muscle and veins. Exploding muscle and veins. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. Sure.” Casey saw Rowenstein’s cock was now poling forward in his khakis. “Made you hard, man?” “Yeah, you did. You do.” Rowenstein grinned toothily and admitted it happily. He pulled out his mobile and began snapping. Relieved, the muscle cadets groped in their pants pockets, next to their now-bulging flies, pulled out cellphones, and, never relaxing, never letting up even a finger on Casey’s massive musculature, began taking pictures. Casey went back to his mountain on his planet. He flexed. He was a god. He knew it. He wanted the universe to see him, to touch him, to admire him, to kneel before him, to reach up to him, to admire his strength, to touch his muscles, to stroke his chest, lick his nipples….. ….to worship him….. ….to suck his dick. Yes, that is what he wanted. He wanted the world to suck his cock. He nodded. That’s what he wanted. Like that hot mean little muscle dude Tiffany did last night. No one had done that before. Now he knew. Yes, and now he knew. Was this why he did it? Why he lifted? Why he had built his physique into the huge muscle sculpture it was now? No, of course not. Not entirely. He wanted to be the biggest and strongest man in the world. That’s what he wanted. But getting his dick sucked at the same time would be a nice perk. Again, he blew up his pecs to their fullest. Twin globes of pure muscle. Boom! Boom! He felt his buddies’ hands all over him. He was dizzy with lust and young muscle. He wanted to flex for everyone, his dick to throb and spurt and explode inside vanquished mouth after vanquished mouth, his long thick shaft gliding between adoring lips, plunging down dozens of supplicant throats, gagging them all with his cock girth and his cum, gagging the world with his giant man meat as he flexed mountainous biceps. He wanted to cover the faces of hundreds of men with his cum. Coating them all. Then fucking butt. Fucking hundreds of butts while he flexed. This was his planet. That is what he wanted. He never realized it before. But he did now. The muscle cadets were all over him, stroking him, rubbing him, feeling his muscles, inspecting his veins. Check out these striations, he heard one of them say. Yeah, these veins are thick as pencils. No, thicker. His skin is so thin. Check out these abs, they’re like cinder blocks. No, harder. This okay, Casey? Yeah, it’s okay. Feel me. Touch me. Check out my muscles. Suck my dick. He started to say it. The cadets seemed to anticipate it. The breathing in the room grew heavier. And heavier. And suddenly one of the muscleboys moaned. Ayyyy Ugnnnhhhh…. And then another. Casey closed his eyes and flexed…. Oh Yeah LOOK AT MY MUSCLES DUDES And then another low cry Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! And then he felt it himself. He felt the liquid start…..it was happening… YEAH YEAH YEAH No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t happening. The room was suddenly sharply quiet. He opened his eyes. It had all stopped. The boys had stepped back. No one was touching him. The worship had stopped. “You ready to go, Casey?” Casey was shocked out of his dream. He turned and stood, staring. His massive cock brushed the mirror as he turned. Rod Moster was at the open door, smiling. He wore his sweats, but even they didn’t conceal his 7’- 0” frame, his nearly 400 pounds of super wide muscle. His veiny relaxed biceps rolled out of his sleeves with nearly 25 inches of unflexed power, 30 when flexed. His quad veins were so thick the boys could see them through his sweatpants. And that wasn’t all they could see. The outline of his flaccid cock bulged lazily down his right leg, extending almost to his knees. The boys stared. “Who is that??” “He’s like a fucking god,” said Owenbee. Banks stepped forward, his eyes now half closed, a small smile on his face. “Sergeant Moster,” said Banks politely. “Greetings.” He saluted crisply, smiled. The muscle cadets stared at the giant, handsome black bodybuilder. “Shit,” said Ogden, “no one is that big.” “He is,” said Rowenstein. “Thank you, Cadet. You’re Banks?” “Yes, sir. Aye, aye, sir.” “Am I interrupting something?” “We’re just saying goodbye, sir,” said Banks, relaxed, crisp and smooth and confident. Casey smiled weakly. “Yeah.” “Put some clothes on, Casey.” Silence in the room. Casey looked down and realized he was naked and that his huge member was poling straight out and up what seemed to be 2 feet or more, as if ready to shoot. Precum was dribbling down the long, thick shaft and onto the floor. And he looked around his room, and saw all the tented, bulging flies of all the teen muscle cadets, their pants increasing with stain, their cocks now receding. Every one of them. Except Banks. His cock still poled out straight ahead in his pants, but his fly was dry, bulging with unleashed power. He'd been able to control himself. And Banks was not embarrassed. Moster took note silently. Hmmm. “Bye, Casey. Maybe we’ll see you at the compound? If Sergeant Moster will allow us in?” Owenbee was hopeful. Moster frowned. “We’ll see,” he said, non-committal. “Um. Yeah. Okay. Bye, guys.” Casey bent and grabbed his clothes, beet red, mortified. Was this the way to show himself on the most important morning of his life? Naked and flexing and about to shoot and filled with fantasies and dreams? And, it might be added – late??? Late for a military CO? He wasn’t even IN the military, and he felt completely humiliated. He struggled for his baggies, reached for his shoes, looked around in vain for at least one of his oversized jocks. And he hadn’t even packed up his laptop or his prized personal collection of vintage muscle magazines yet. “I’m really sorry, sir,” he blurted, moving clumsily around the room as the teens scrambled to step clear of the confused young bull. “I guess I’m not ready to go.” “You do want to move up the mountain to the main compound?” “Oh, yes, sir!” “Well, then, get yourself ready to go. I won’t wait for you long. I’ll be downstairs in the van. Take a few minutes, and get yourself together. I'll wait five minutes. After that, if you want to move up the mountain, you're going to have to walk.” He smiled, suddenly surprisingly kind. He looked around the room of awestruck boys, and smiled. “And if all you cadets keep training hard, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you all up at the compound sometime soon.” He looked pointedly at Banks. “Especially you.” “Turn around.” Banks complied, turning around. Moster gazed, eyes half-lidded, at Banks’ impressively shaped glutes, nicely packed inside tight pants. “Yes. Keep doing those squats, boy. Good flanks.” His fingers twitched a little. There would be a nice session of spanking this smart-mouthed handsome muscle boy’s hard little muscle bottom sometime in the very near future. He'd wake him up. Banks’ eyes twinkled. He knew what Moster was thinking about. It was okay with him. "I'll look forward to meeting you again, sir." They shared a quick look of understanding. Moster smiled slightly, an eyebrow cocked. Then he nodded briefly to the others. “At ease, men.” And then he was gone. The boys were still a moment, listening to Moster’s steps retreating down the corridor. The distant outer door opened and closed. A moment of awed silence. Then the boys scrambled back to life. “Jesus!” “He’s HUGE.” “Guys! I gotta bounce!” Boytown muscle chaos as the cadets dove around the room, gathering Casey’s bags and toiletries and clothes and laptop, throwing everything in a heap. “Get my muscle magazines!” “Where are they?” Rowenstein asked, looking a little frantic. “The closet. There’s a box. Four boxes. I need them!” The boys scoured the room, gathering their hero’s possessions. “We got your back, Case,” said Banks, smiling. Casey stopped a moment and looked into Banks’ eyes. Then he smiled. “I know you do, dude. I know.” ****** NEXT CHAPTER: "The Twenty" Chapter 15 - Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster
  13. "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - Inside Zaftig's Lab: The Musclemen Revealed Chapter 3: White Cap Training At the beginning, Zaftig had believed that the perfect man was Rod Moster. Now, 18 other enhanced candidates approached the successful muscular development levels Moster had already achieved. Moster’s edge was waning. On training days, the men could eat whatever they wished, as long as their diets included 5,000 daily grams of pure animal protein. After a “light” morning workout, a day of classes and small arms training, and between regularly scheduled sessions of long distance swimming, bicycling, sparring, wrestling, karate, tae kwon do, yoga, kickboxing, and extreme fighting technique skills, the men were set loose in the gym at 1730 hours. By then, of course, they were wild to lift heavy and lift hard. On muscle recovery days, the men were commanded to remain in or near their private quarters and barred from stressful activities. Maintaining proper diet in all six daily meals remained in effect, socializing was strictly limited, and long hours of meditation were advised. It was understood that their finely honed mechanisms required fresh air, a little light running, a mile-long swim or two, and long, stress-free, leisurely walks along the many compound park trails. Lights out on muscle recovery days was 2000 hours. The rest day protocols were strictly enforced. These rest days were always the dullest days imaginable for the energized squad of musclemen. Early morning the day after rest, they were filled once again with blinding zeal and unfettered ambition for the hours of brutal, strictly regimented workouts. Lately Sergeant Moster was even more vigilant than usual, making sure that the men stayed on point throughout the session. Once every few weeks, the men eagerly anticipated a ‘White Cap’ training session. White Cap Nights meant one thing - no holds barred. They were scheduled generally as an incentive following of long periods of recorded ‘good team behavior.’ The men ached for them. White Caps contained traces of concentrated undiluted P21 granules, blended carefully with powerfully lab-enhanced homeopathic supplements and pure, powdered oxygen. It was like muscle heroin, mainstreamed. Zaftig’s researchers had found that this compound powder form of P21, when taken orally, produced short-term jolts of strength stamina, and unrestrained energy that were, unlike the injectable form, only temporarily enjoyed. The workouts performed after a white cap had been consumed boasted over-the-top performance levels, which always resulted in new personal bests. The gains the men made on these nights, whether lifting, swimming, running, or fighting, provided benchmarks for future optimal training. There was a drawback. The few remaining social restraints the men still had from their former lives had all but faded to nothingness. Just as the men were moved to achieve new highs on the workout floor, the few remaining inhibitors they did still maintain all but vanished. While scheduling White Cap nights was becoming an increasing necessity in order to keep the men focused on pure muscle growth, Dr. Zaftig had become highly concerned that as the team continued to surpass previously-considered “impossible” training goals, the squad’s standards of good behavior, or even basic societal standards of decency, were becoming increasingly rare. And while Zaftig continued to allow Moster control the group, he was aware of his probable own long-term foolishness in this decision. For under Moster’s direction, the squad was separating itself little by little from standards of common social boundaries. To say nothing of military discipline. How could Zaftig hope to impress the brass if his muscle monsters, for all of their nearly inhuman development, were out of control? And how could Project Herculaneum continue if the military removed its nearly decade-long support? Moreover, a Joint Chiefs review was scheduled for November. Zaftig was worried. In effect, his chief inmate was now running the asylum. It made for fantastic achievements in muscle size, strength, and accomplishment. It did little or nothing to contain the burgeoning sexual psyches of musclemen who craved to exhibit, show-off, pose, tease, and flex with abandon. Three years before, when the Nineteen were still the Twelve, a White Cap night had been introduced as a lab experiment. The men ended up in such a muscles-entangled in a spectacularly muscle-flexing, cum-spurting locker room orgy after the workout that the program was almost abandoned. Sheepish and humiliated the next day, the Twelve went back to the gym to set new benchmarks in strength, endurance, and lifting. With some persuasion, Moster argued to Zaftig that occasional white cap nights, strongly regulated and following firm procedures might inspire the men further to new heights. Distributed in the wrong hands, White Caps could be dangerous, and perhaps lethal. They were highly stimulating drugs, and the enlarged pupils, deep breathing, increased body heat and volumes of sweat they produced required careful monitoring. For the Project Herculaneum men, white caps were like crack. Zaftig had been against them from the start, until over time it became apparent that no organic harm had ever resulted, nor certifiable addiction issues. Moreover, the men remained inspired by White Cap workouts in the months to come. And they understood that for them to be most effective, these nights could come only 4 or 5 times a year. Zaftig reluctantly agreed, on the condition that the nights were videotaped by no less than six cameras. The tapes would be closely reviewed for infractions and sexually aggressive behavior. In exchange, Moster bargained that during shower time, they men could indulge as they wished. Zaftig, sincerely hoping no long-term hospitalizations would result, gave the go-ahead for periodic white cap nights. And so they began. On these nights, for two hours, it was only Moster’s grim domination of the men that prevent them from brutally fucking each other right there on the workout floor. That would wait, as he faithfully promised them all, for the shower room afterwards, when, fuck each other, they did, and with relish. Of late, however, not a little of the sexual acting out had made its way to the gym floor. One by one, the video cameras were shut down and put away, leaving no record. And the men grew more unrestrained. October 19th had been a required rest and muscle recovery day, for October 20th‘s workout was scheduled as a White Cap Night. After all, later that night in the mess, the men were scheduled to meet the so-called young ‘muscle genius’ Casey Rockland for the first time. Another recruit from Miles Donovan’s San Jose hardcore gym Raw Weight. Just a kid, really. Only 18. But with real promise, or so it seemed. Moster determined to think about Casey Rockland a little later. He couldn’t afford to have split attention when the men were on the floor and under the influence of the pure, undiluted stuff. And it was too late to turn back now. As long as P21 continued to produce almost miraculous results, and the men grew exponentially large and become stronger beyond all projected imagining, and Project Herculaneum approached its 10-year anniversary, Zaftig had finally been forced to turn a blind eye to both the benefits of White Cap Nights, and the now-nightly after-hours sexual behavior. Moster distributed the capsules personally to the men as they filed onto the floor. The bodybuilders gobbled them down immediately, already chuckling and winking at one another. Then Moster stood back and allowed their raging hormones their full force. Watchful and ever ready to impose his strict discipline as needed, he nevertheless understood the basic benefits of weight-room bonding. He let them go. He did not take one himself. He stood watchfully to one side. He was dressed, as he generally was, in his spotless oversized white sweats. He had completed his own workout privately an hour before while his squad was going through their abs training in the enclosed hot room just next to the workout floor. It was generally unnecessary for him to display his physical superiority to his squad of muscle freaks, except privately, and only when warranted. And tonight in particular, he chose to remain fully covered as if to encourage the men to pay attention to their own bodies. Upon occasion, however, he would strip down to his jock and join the men in their training to maintain bonding, and supply ongoing inspiration, however he determined it might be needed. Those nights had become increasingly rare, however, as the complicated, competitive reactions of the men to Moster’s detailed muscularity had begun to inhibit the workflow. From the sidelines, watching his squad’s training with laser focus, he made sure his men strictly maintained dead-on correct form with each grueling lift. Moster made careful notes in the margins of the evening training session report filled out in advance for him daily by meek, balding little Dr. Irving, Zaftig’s nearly silent civilian lab assistant. Never disappointed at either their stamina or their passion during normal workouts, the results achieved on white cap nights amazed even him. The effects always began gradually. Divided into their usual smaller training teams of 2 and 3 men each, the soldier-bodybuilders of Project Herculaneum took turns spotting one another and blasting alternate muscle groups. Tonight, teams one and two were working back and lats, teams three and four delts, traps and triceps, teams five and six legs, team seven chest and biceps. An hour of punishing abdominal work preceded the heavy lifting. The men grimaced, grunted, spat, cursed, shouted and groaned with ecstatic agony as, all around the room, each man pumped his super-sized, vein-exploding muscles to their greatest potential. Their dirty army regulation wife-beater t-shirts were grimy with dirt and drenched with water and sweat. Beneath the t-shirts, each man displayed blinding, awesomely ripped physiques, packed with dense, intricate, vascular cables of tendons, ligaments, river-thick veins and mountainously large, round, popping muscle bellies. Abs rippled with cobblestone washboard 8-packs on waistlines that grew no larger than 32 inches. Lats flared. Pecs pumped. Biceps bulged ferociously as the men aggressively lifted and posed for one another in between sets, each man confident that he was bigger than his training partner. Some of the men kept their bodies shaved. Others let their body hair grow. Moster demanded shaved physiques only once a month for company inspection, and over time he had come to respect the fact that some of the furrier musclemen were proud of their sprouting masses of thick, healthy chest, asshole, and pubic hair. Short, regulation haircuts were required, though some of the older men were allowed beards and mustaches. After all, personal vanity, as long as it didn’t supplant regulations, was to be encouraged. It also kept the men unique from one another. While they were all extraordinarily developed bodybuilders, Moster knew the value of each man maintaining his own identity and special tastes. It was all part of his plan. Moster's vision, if you will. After all, later on, new cadet Casey would be presented to the group. For it appeared that Casey Rockland might possess the rare organic gifts that were even more sympathetic. Moster wanted the men to be aching with rage and pain from their blazingly cruel workout when they first encountered Muscle Cadet Casey Rockland at precisely 2200 hours. He wished he could also prevent the men from the usual hardcore White Cap Night after-workout showers free-for-all, but he knew that was impossible. Then again, P21 worked in mysterious ways. Maybe the men would be feeling replenished and reloaded? White Cap Night workouts were tougher, true, but the floor activity and the post-show group release in the showers meant the men would be drained. So maybe not quite as spot-on impassioned (envious? turned on?) at their first meeting of the impressively swole 18-year muscle monster. In any event, Moster would enforce no-touch rules on Casey for the first few weeks. At least. Zaftig had recently confided in Moster that Rockland might indeed be that long-sought P21 perfect recipient. The men already sensed that Rockland was different. For almost two years, they’d all glimpsed the fully-covered teenage cadet Rockland periodically training with the program’s other young cadets in their own, smaller gym in an auxiliary building in the compound. He was unaccountably huge, and the cadets were increasingly intimidated by his size and strength. It was way past time to move him up into the ranks. Most of the cadets still lived off-campus in discreetly rented apartments in nearby San Jose. Vans picked them up early each morning and returned them to their front doors each early evening. There was no socializing with The Nineteen. A few of the more promising cadets were assigned cadet housing in the facility’s dormitory. And Rockland had been moved into the dorm at the outset. And from what the men could tell from a distance, he was mammoth beyond imaging for a teenager. Rockland was said to be a genetic marvel, even amongst these men, though none of them had yet had the occasion to closely inspect the young man’s physique. Zaftig had made sure of that. Even Sergeant Moster had not yet interviewed the young man. He was amused (if just a little irritated) that Zaftig had purposefully held back on presenting Rockland to him, instead encouraging Rockland to bond with the other cadets in their own comparatively unsupervised weight training. The point was to see what the teen cadets would do on their own recognizance. Junior to Moster, but reporting only to Zaftig, Casey’s handlers were required to keep their notes confidential – that is to say, away from Moster. So far, Rockland had little inkling of the plans that were in place for his future. In time, Moster had come to accept the set up. In the 10 years since he first began to assemble the men of Project Herculaneum, Zaftig had always been successful in presenting a finely honed candidate worthy of the grueling responsibilities of membership. He had an eye for talent, Moster had to acknowledge, finding gold in a man he himself might have passed on. Moster assumed, correctly as it happened, that at this very moment in another part of the compound, Zaftig was preparing young Casey Rockland for his first presentation to The Nineteen. For it was only after long-term study of the effects on a so-called control “perfect specimen” that the kinks of the formula could finally be identified, and eliminated. After that, it would be ready for general release to the public – and ready to earn billions for Zaftig. For even in the true believer Zaftig, at the end of the day, it was still all about the money. What Moster didn’t know was that Zaftig, sure of Rockland’s gifts and unparalleled fast-track progress, had been injecting him from day one as a cadet with P21. It was possible that young Casey Rockland was the man that Zaftig had long been searching for. He’d been on the protocol for two years now, ever since that night Zaftig found him, lonely and alone, and prompted by a hurried call from Miles Donovan, in the San Jose Greyhound bus station. Chapter 4: A Brief History of Casey Rockland 2002-2021 Even as a baby, he was unusually large and healthy. He had appeared one night in Fall, 2002, delivered anonymously just inside chilly porticoes of City Hall. He was carefully tucked in a battered little crib, which had been wheeled and abandoned in the shadows of the Rockland Avenue entrance. Snugly covered with a warm blanket, the baby had a bottle that he sucked on pensively. A note pinned to the cradle read: Take care of our boy. He is a good boy even if he is big. We just cant feed him no more. PS His birthday is April 23. He is six months old today. We call him Casey. Goodbye and thank u and God bless u. No one knew who his parents were. And now he was no more than just another foundling in the city system. City social services responded quickly. Baby Casey’s birth certificate being untraceable, his social worker hurriedly gave him the surname ‘Rockland’, and the smiling, big-eyed, big-bodied baby went directly into foster care. Passed from home to home, prospective parents seemed to give up very quickly. At first charmed by his beauty, sweetness, clear eyes and blond hair, all gave up rather promptly after discovering just how much baby Casey ate. In time he was transferred into the San Jose Catholic Boys’ Home. There he was looked after by a small platoon of the devoted nuns of the Benedictine Order. Something about him touched the normally cold-hearted sisters, and in short order, they began to feed him as much as he required. Which was a lot. Baby Casey was growing before their eyes. Casey didn’t start to talk until he was nearly 3 years old. His vocabulary consisted of “Yes”, “No”, “Okay”, “Please”, “I’m hungry”, and “I’m still hungry.” By the time he was 4, the sisters sadly noted that Casey was slower than the other boys his age, if much bigger, and generally in need of twice as much food. By age 5, he was already as big and strong as a 10-year old, which required some special clothing and a certain amount of care that he didn’t accidently break things. Even so, Casey was shy and sweet natured, if withdrawn. He always tried to do the right thing and not worry the nuns. The boy had an uncommonly beautiful face, with long, thick lustrous blond hair, and deep set violet eyes with heavy black eyebrows and eyelashes. The kind-hearted Sisters told him quietly about what a handsome man he was going to be when he grew up. “Just be patient,” said Sister Mary Christopher. “Your day will come.” His day hadn’t come yet. The other boys didn’t like him. By the time Casey was 11, his blend of dopey sweetness and a rapidly maturing pre-adolescent body forced unwanted attention onto him. Still the favorite of the sisters, he got the biggest dinners and seemed to receive the most privileges. Even his relative slowness in class didn’t daunt the Sisters’ devotion. He never asked for any special treatment. It just came to him. His size added to his troubles. He knew he could hurt the other boys without meaning to, unless he was very careful, and soon enough, the older, meaner gangs in the home learned that in spite of his size and superior strength, he wouldn’t fight back. The sisters, after all, told him not to. It was more blessed to turn the other cheek. In fact, as Casey grew, it became apparent that he had four cheeks that he could turn. Four of the bigger boys loved to pin him down and administer bare-bottom spankings. And Casey’s supple little butt was nice and ripe for such punishment. In fact, he could take any punishment, feeling somehow that it was his due. And he never told tales. In spite of his increasing size and strength, he was open season for bullies. Over the years, he became a punching bag, a repository for the other boys’ fears and anger. The years passed. Casey went into puberty early. He grew exponentially fast, and the other boys became more wary of him. His strength was already an issue, and often the nuns would catch him testing his strength by lifting tables and bending the iron bars that lined the dank little playground. A bigger problem, however, developed out of the group showers in gym class. Casey’s penis was growing fast, even faster than his strong body. His pants never seemed to fit any more, and it grew harder to hide the developing bulge. To make matters worse, when he was 9 he had started having erections and wet dreams, and sometimes would get excited in class or on the playground or at mess hall. The other boys stared at the growing bulge in his pants, whispered, and pointed, secretly unsure and intimidated. Casey was always baffled by their snickering, half-heard, never-understood jokes. One day one of the older boys had an inspiration on the playground. Staring at Casey’s looming young fly, he called out. “Hey. Banana Man! You getting’ another hard-on?” The other boys roared nastily. “Seems you’re always gittin’ hard-ons, Banana Man! You queer or somethin’?” The name stuck. That was the worst. Casey was now ashamed of his penis. Ashamed and embarrassed. He was always getting hard at the wrong times. He was always being called out by the other boys. It was too big. He couldn’t hide it. And he certainly couldn’t discuss this with the nuns. “Banana Man, Banana Man!” Casey knew they were mocking him, mocking his embarrassingly oversized manhood. He was ashamed and tried to hide himself. And that made the boys laugh even more. When Casey was 12, he had had enough. He was too big, too pretty, ungainly, awkward, lonely, slow-witted and alone. Although he never let the other boys see it, he cried a lot, usually under his bed sheets late at night, stifling his sobs so that the other boys in the dorm room wouldn’t hear him. One night he thumbed through a community free handout magazine he picked up at the corner market to see if he could find – well, anything. The sisters never let the boys use the office computers for mere webs surfing, but he was desperate, and he knew there had to be a place – somewhere – where he could go to vent his frustrations, anxiety, and deep loneliness. He knew he was a freak, but he suspected there might be a place where there were other freaks, like him, where he could find some comfort. There it was. The ad that changed everything. The ad that changed his life. MILES DONOVAN’S RAW WEIGHT GYM HARDCORE BODYBUILDING REASONABLE RATES COME TRAIN WITH THE CHAMPIONS And there was a picture, too, an old one of bodybuilder Lee Labrada. It was enough for Casey. This is what he wanted to look like. This was what he wanted to be. The next morning he begged Sister Mary Alice for extra yard work duty so that he could earn the money to join Raw Weight Gym. He worked all fall late into the evening washing dishes, sweeping floors, emptying the teeming garbage pails in the kitchen. The sisters saw to it that he was paid $125 weekly for his work. “He’s learning responsibility,” said Sister Mary Alice. “He’s preparing to jump the wall,” said Sister Agatha. “Freak….teacher’s pet…..queer,” said the boys. And on day in the spring of 2016, after classes were over for the day at precisely 2:30 PM, he took a bus downtown to join Raw Weight Gym, the hardcore gym owned by the 50-year old retired pro bodybuilder legend Miles Donovan. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. The nuns knew he was venturing out, however. They trusted that wherever Casey was bound to go, as long as he was quiet, stuck to his chores, was well behaved and responsible, and was back at the rectory in time for dinner, they were not about to get involved. He would be on his own in a few years anyway, the sisters reasoned. Better he began to learn the world now. And secretly, he remained the favorite of all in the order. Chapter 5: Raw Weight Gym Once upon a time, retired pro bodybuilder Miles Donovan might have qualified as one of The Nineteen. But at 55 years of age, with almost 40 years spent in the ranks of competitive bodybuilding, Miles had seen too much the world of competitive muscle up close and personal for way too long. He was done with the competitive end of the iron game. Handsome, cleft-chinned, grey-haired and grizzled with an ever-present two-day growth of beard, and sporting the powerfully thick musculature of a superheavyweight competitor, Miles was still a national phenomenon. His big, hard body was graced with a half dozen fading 1970s-era tattoos, and at 255 pounds, the man proudly boasted the rocky 34-inch waist of a 20-year old. His veined, iron super-abs still served as impressive midsection body armor, his hard pecs still loomed with impressive cuts, and his oversized nipples still sported the brass nipple rings he’d first put on when he hung up his posing trunks for the last time, 15 years before. Better still, Miles had long since stopped shaving his body, and his hardcore daddy physique was lined with a matting of soft black body hair. Miles was stronger than all of the men at his gym, effortlessly curling 225 pounds, squatting 600 and benching 500. His bodyfat index never got much higher than 3%. No, he’d never stop lifting, never stop training as if the contest of his life was just next week. But Miles knew all about the favoritism of the judges and alpha-male insecurities of most other pro bodybuilders. He had been through the health problems, the staggering personal toll taken on most competitive bodybuilders with their litanies of failed relationships, bad business decisions, drugs and violence. A survivor of three scorched-earth divorces, Miles had long since turned his back on blissful domesticity. Now, it was all about his gym – and the private sex games his muscles could still inspire. Always a hustler, Miles had a different magic formula for his survival in the world of muscle. Why not let the muscle fans work for him, he reasoned to himself. Miles was all too familiar with the viciousness of the confidence-challenged muscle worshippers, whose mean-spirited online backstabbing masked profound, unfixable fears, physical inferiority, and personal emotional agonies. He’d seen too many talented, hapless, dog-dumb young musclemen, eager for fame and recognition in the world of competitive muscle, get their hopes and dreams dashed on the rocks of life, their fine physiques spiraling into decay as the years of being used and abused caught up with them and the despair of association with the seedier elements of bodybuilding began to take its inexorable toll. Not for him this downward spiral. And he had no inclination of spending his retirement years in a lab complex headed up by his crazy old friend, Dr. Ira Zaftig, inspiring muscle project or not. After all, he could still get the better any man on the workout floor or take him down in the free-for-all boxing ring; he was known to have a mighty punch. And below the belt he was nicely endowed with a 9-inch penis that liked to come out to play often, for he was well known to particularly enjoy the discreet worship of his teen members. There wasn’t much Miles liked better than when a handsome 18-year old muscletwink pulled down the man’s outward poling sweatpants and enveloped his always-tumescent, thick member between pouty teenage lips. Miles’ Gym, Raw Weight, was cavernous. It sprawled over three floors in a large former warehouse located at the end of an alley in downtown San Jose. Plate glass windows on floors one and two showed lines of cardio machines and stacks of weights. Raw Weight was his baby. He’d carved it out of the world and made it all his own. He had bought the building for a song 20 years before, in 1997, where it had stood, a nearly forgotten emblem to bodybuilding history for nearly 40 years. In it, some of the greats of bodybuilding had once trained at the beginning of their careers. Most had long since retired or moved on to the slick strip mall gym chains that had cropped up across the country since the early 1980s, which now catered to the legends and the weekend bodybuilding hopefuls alike. The steroided goons that had dominated the competition stages for more than three decades may have created their own little scattered fiefdoms, but all the same most who had survived returned (quietly) once or twice a year to the rarefied muscle environment that was Raw Weight Gym. For the first few years he was in business, Miles was always barely one step away from creditors, foreclosure, IRS audits. Then one afternoon, while grimly watching an annoying old gym rat hitting on an unresponsive 22-year old Mexican muscleboy, he hit on a marketing strategy that was, for inner sanctum muscle lovers, just about flawless. All were welcome at Miles’ gym – at least on the first two floors. There, at all hours of the day and night were the teens, the rock-solid gay guys, the strapping young executives, the boxers and the runners and the middle-aged and the muscle wannabes and the flabby former high school athletes and even the merely curious. The vast gym floor clanged with the sound of weights and the whirring of the treadmills, and the house music echoed resoundingly throughout its depths. The showers were always hot, the equipment was dust-free, the machines were new and shiny and well tended, and the floor mats were scrubbed and clean. From a clerestory row at the height of the 16-foot walls large, lines of faded color posters of the bodybuilding legends of the 20th and 21st centuries promised the results of years of muscle-building dedication and discipline. Few lifters on these two floors could ever hope to achieve anything like the muscle density and mass of the gods that beamed down upon them with smug superiority, but spirits were undaunted, and the air was charged with the serious endeavors of those who trained beneath the glare of the merciless fluorescent lights. And then there was the 3rd floor. It was an exclusive and private membership-only club, and it was Miles’ own world of muscle, where he was the unchallenged director and Chairman of the Board. Miles Donovan A passkey, only issued by Miles personally, was available to a very few elite members. The 3rd floor was resolutely men-only. It too was clean and scrubbed, but it was quiet, music-less, and unadorned by the posters of proudly flexing past contest winners. No more than five men trained there at any given time. There was a private entrance through an unmarked door on the street level with an elevator that went directly to 3, so the passkey members didn’t have to be bothered by the stares and curiosity of the comparative plebes found on floors 1 and 2. The rules were clear. The Men of 3, as Miles called them, were required to train, at least during business hours, in tight posing trunks. After hours, they could train naked if they chose. They were even allowed to bring in occasional training partners and visitors of their own choosing, as long as they either a) kept up with the grueling training, or, their non-training guests remained silent, respectful, discreet, observed the rules, remained dressed in a suitable sweatsuit and gym shoes, and paid appropriately. But that wasn’t all. Miles also admitted floor access to a few privately selected well-heeled subscribers. They paid dearly for the privilege. For a few thousand dollars a shot, the subscribing visitors were allowed to indulge in discreet muscle worship while the bodybuilders trained. The rules were clear here, as well. The full-time muscle members who were worshipped were required to train past their pain thresholds on a regular basis. Their progress was reported in weekly time sheets that listed current dimensions, gains, possible injuries, and reported income earned while on the floor. The money was 90% theirs to keep: Miles took the rest of his cut from the paying guests. As keys and membership could be revoked at any time, both musclemen and muscle worshippers were all conscientiously engaged in maintaining their good standing. The specs of the muscle members were clearly understood. All had to have superior muscular development for their weight – Miles did not discriminate in favor of age or the super-huge, and several of the men were either older or bantams. A few men were silver daddies well into their sixties, who looked as if they might have another decade of solid growth ahead of them. The only area where Miles had to lay down a firm law of size requirement was relative to penis length, girth, and weight. Only the well hung were admitted, and although it wasn’t spelled out per se in any charter, the Men of 3 all knew that any new member was unquestionably packing – and talented. Butt fucking was generally discouraged on the workout floor on 3, although there were no active rules against it. Butt fucking tended to be louder and distracting to the men at work, and besides, few had the inclination to offer their well-honed glutes for the pleasure of the visitors – at least, during training hours. What the men did after hours was, of course, their own business, but Miles suspected few wanted to be known as available butt buddies, and that alone kept actual fucking to a minimum. Butt worship, however, wasn’t uncommon, and once or twice a week some lucky guest might be spotted on his knees near the squat rack, his face pressed into the hardened musclebutt of a seasoned member, who might appear to a casual observer to be completely ignoring him. Once Miles was amused to see two muscle members deeply engaged in a serious conversation about quad training while, beneath them and on either side, two eager visitors had their faces deeply buried in their well-rounded glutes. The men were ignoring them. After all, they expected no less. Overall, the system worked surprisingly well. The ranks of the Men of 3 were few, but well chosen. It was also an urban legend to the scores of gay guys on 1 and 2 who might hope and dream, but did not yet have the money or tact to be considered for the occasional foray upstairs. Only the longtime muscle members themselves were allowed in the 3rd floor locker room and showers. The locker room, of course, was a different story, for there the naked musclemen were free to take their pleasure of one another as often as they liked, sucking cock, fucking butt, worshipping the muscles of their training partners, and even engaging in water sports, as long as they mopped up after themselves. Muscle members were not allowed to exchange favors with one another on the floor at any time during the gym’s open hours, but late at night after all visitors had departed for the day, muscle members could train naked if they liked, or in leather, or thongs, or wearing masks – or whatever they preferred. Generally the newer members, once initiated, made use of the free-for-all spirit of after hours, finding other like-minded newbies overwhelmed with personal pride over the honor of having been accepted. However, all the men of 3 made frequent use of the locker room. It was strictly observed that at no time were water sports acceptable on the gym floor, but it wasn’t uncommon to see a smiling, exhausted, fulfilled muscle member pissing a powerful jet stream onto the face and pecs of another satisfied muscle member kneeling before him while they showered. Miles auditioned the men of the 3rd floor himself. He rarely sucked cock – he’d had enough of all that years before, although for a particularly gifted candidate he’d loosen up his own rules, if he happened to be in the mood. His test was far more cut and dried, and, in effect, far more exclusive, even to the point of cruelty. Applicants were subjected to a simple test: Miles would put a bodybuilder through an after-hours grueling workout, and stopping it short without warning just as the man appeared about to drop from pain and exhaustion, demand he immediately drop his shorts. Miles would then measure the flaccid penis, and if it passed the dimension test, take it in his tough, calloused palm and, with a stopwatch in hand, determine the time it took the man to get fully hard. Then, he would measure again to see the full erection length, and demand an ejaculation on the spot. Only one in ten men might make it, although the candidates who displayed promising size and ability, if not able to make the full distance on the first audition, were free to come back and try again whenever they felt up to it. If the men were big enough and hung enough, Miles didn’t mind testing and retesting. If not, no further audition was available, although Miles saw to it that the flunkees were treated with respect and discretion. After all, upon occasion, a hopeful 4F might gain access as a visitor, although he would not be allowed into the ranks of the talented muscle beneficiaries. Of course, he’d also have to pay for access privileges. And the muscle hopefuls, wannabes, worshippers, trainers, pros and future pros came from all over the world just to get a shot at membership at that 3rd floor exclusive aerie of muscle and muscle lovers. And years later, it would have the added notoriety of being the gym where the legendary muscle giant Casey Rockland got his start. -- To be continued --
  14. js44

    The Return Of Zeus

    Plotline: After centuries of living in isolation, Zeus decides to return to earth and have some fun as a human. The following is a work of fiction, this story does not make attempts to presume religious practices, faiths nor retell any historical events with accuracy. I I sit in my small throne room, levitating high above Olympus where I was forced to relocate after the explosion of Vesuvius so many earth cycles—well, years ago. For centuries I have remained here, a prisoner of my own mistakes, I assume, watching as my creations have evolved beyond me and my fellow gods. The years of warring and brute control of our human creations resulted in a devastating loss. With many of the Titans destroyed due to their own brutality and selfishness, I no longer have the influence over my people as I once did. I should have had the foresight to understand that humans would move beyond their faith in me; after all, there are plenty of other deities both evil and good for humans to invest their lives in, and they do have free will. As humans have stopped believing in my existence, my powers have also diminished. I'm sure other Titans exist elsewhere, perhaps in far off places and times, but in any case I am comfortable where I am. I have actually found it amusing to watch the human civilization evolve and grow over the centuries, they have discovered so much about how I and my fellow Titans created them and their environment. As I walk to my reflecting pool, I realize that it has been nearly 2000 years since I was exiled from the Roman existence. Jupiter, as I was called then, was their leader, their source of power, their ability to conquer and discover and rule and love, lust. As an immortal and a deity I do realize that time bends to my will, but I have enjoyed my current role as a hands off god, living in solitude high above Olympus. I perform nearly the same ritual each day that I have since I settled here, and though I am not dissatisfied with my immortality or my power, these last few years I have become bored and restless. I look down at my reflection in the pool, the cool water shining an emerald glow of myself back into my eyes. I wear the same white toga I have always worn, prestine in its own immortality. I appear to the be same age as I always have, my bright blue eyes reflected against my blonde, curly beard and a thick, flowing blonde mane wrapping down my head and behind my neck. Not bad for a human, typical for a god, though. I smirk at myself, we Titans sure did have fun in our day. We languished in our fluid sexuality, our carelessness and candor with each fellow god as well as humans. Even in our selfish and turse natures, I had no regrets for what I did. Hyperion and I would often go to Earth, visiting in human form. We could take our picks of the strongest and worthiest humans to bond with, gracing them with our godly sex. Theia would challenge us to plant our seed into as many humans in one night as we could, I usually won because I could coerce multiple men and women to come to bed with me at the same time, Hyperion preferred one partner at a time. Pulling the strap from my toga, I undressed and dropped my garment. I put my hand against my chest and feel my blonde hair gracing over my sturdy and flattened pecs, leading a treasure trail across my six-pack abs and down to my thickly hairy pubic region. I miss my sexual encounters, my tool misses it too. Years of masturbation on my own have caused me to grow longing and restless. I flex my quads and see my hair raise over my sinew. We gods always enjoyed our nude rituals, and my daily swim in my lake remains one of my favorite activities. I take a perfect dive into the water and stroke back and forth across the lake, feeling the cool water rush over my naked body. I couldn't help but ask myself what it would be like should I return to earth today. Humans with their computers and vehicles, their vast languages, cultures and technology. Only few rituals remain from my time as a ruler, how I would love to participate once more in the activity of human life. Of course there really was nothing to stop me. As a controller of energy and electricity I could easily and quietly work my way back into the plane of earthly existence. But what would I do? The political factions and cultural phenomenons are so different now. Does it even matter? Of course not, for I am a god, and I can integrate myself back to visit the earthly existence once again. A smile grew on my face and I stopped my stroke. Floating in the water I decided right then to spend at least a few days on earth. I levitated out of my pool and toward my observatory. Up until now I simply used it to monitor human activity, but today I will use it to find a location and a group of humans to integrate myself with. I dried my body and stood before my observatory windows, watching the present time in every place on the plane. I wanted to be young, athletic and with a group that had fluid and constant access to each other. A university setting, of course! But where? Humans today seemed to enjoy fame, particularly with athletes, I should be in a university setting where a particular sporting match is popular and well-respected. My people had always reveled in the sport my fellow Titans created: wrestling. I should be a wrestler, of course. I had never visited the Americas before now, and I wanted to try a new location. I found a university with wrestling as a primary, popular sport near the east coast of the Americas and set my sights there. I could locate there in human form, but that would be difficult to integrate myself. Instead, I could share my powers and possess a male athlete already integrated, it would be perfect opportunity for me to have some fun, for the man would have already established any social necessities. I turned my focus to the athletic center of the university, where around 12 men were scrimmaging each other during their daily practices. I had not possessed a human in centuries, it would be best to take one of them while he was alone. One man stood out to me, someone of Greek heritage, a man named Lukas, someone who had a long string of Greek heritage. He was not the strongest of the sport, but he was on the team and had a fair set of friends. He also seemed to be a bit of a loner, not terribly social but people did recognize him. Perhaps I could help him establish himself as a true Power Player of the wrestling team. Yes, that would be my way of thinking him for lending me his body for a short while. I informed my demi god servants of my temporary absence and prepared myself for my journey. I could teleport myself into the human plane of existence, but I would need to be creative to possess this human and take on his form. I quickly moved to my chamber that bridged the plane of earth and set my course for the Americas. I stretched my body and prepared itself for metamorphosis, I would need to take on my form of pure energy to most effectively gain control of Lukas, it would be quick and painless for him. Actually, it would be quite pleasurable, any human gaining the awesome powers of a god would enjoy it. I smirked as my chamber began channeling the energy of my body out and toward the earth, perhaps the centuries in solitude has made me softer to the human condition. In the past I cared not for human feelings and sympathy, I simply ruled with my intent. But today I plan to take this human with care and compassion. I looked once more at my raw, nude body as my sculpted, muscular form broke apart and into waves of blue energy. I smiled as my body morphed apart, skin and muscle splitting into a blue blur of energy. “Take me to the Americas!” I ordered as the room rocketed my energetic form downward into the plane of human existence. II I wrapped myself into the energy cables that seemed to cloak every part of human life and traveled in them toward the university, into the athletic center and into the light fixtures above the gym. 8 mats lay evenly spaced apart as young, strapping collegiate athletes pushed their own bodies and that of their foes to their fullest athletic ability. These men held the same passion for sport, for respect of the male form, and for athletic camaraderie that the humans I ruled over used to have. These were men who respected and were proud of their bodies, they were the perfect vessels for me. Lukas was out of breath, his muscles ached, but he was able to pin his opponent Victor against his own odds. He was able to exhaust Victor as he slammed him in a last pin, claiming victory for himself. “Damn dude!” Victor said, out of breath, “you've been training hard, man, you got the strength! Can't wait for our competition tomorrow, I think you're going to rock it!” Lukas also out of breath answered, “thanks Vic, that was fun man.” Victor laughed, “hey dude! I know you're not in a frat or nuthin but we gotta party going on at the house tonight. You should stop by. I know you haven't been yourself since Mercedes broke up with you. We're gonna have the girls over tonight, might be nice to get laid before the big meet tomorrow, ya know?” he added with a toothy grin. Lukas shrugged him off, “yeah we'll see man, I'm tryin to get over her ya know?” Coach called Lukas before he could finish a conversation. “Lukas, I need you to condition your quads before heading back to the locker room. Rest of you men, run 3 miles then hit the showers!” Vic gave Lukas a slap on his ass as the other guys headed toward the track. With Lukas alone I should be able to take his form with ease. I traveled through the walls and electrical structure following the young man to the weight room where he hooked up a quad machine and started pumping his legs. He wasn't as big as Victor or the other wrestlers, but he had his own stature, and as I watched him pump the machine in his singlet I was reminded of the warriors I used to train. Lukas had dark, short hair and thick tuft of arm hair underneath his pits. He would have had hair on his chest and legs too but he shaved it. The guy was a jock in every sense of the word, but he was not the arrogant, stereotypical showoff I was used to seeing in other men. Lukas grunted with each pump of the machine, I could read into his head he was considering going to the frat party, he wanted to be social, but he also took his sport seriously. The thought of being with a girl was arousing him, and he started having memories of his sexual escapades with his former girlfriends. His dick started rustling under his jockstrap and he felt it best to hold off on his fantasies until later. Lukas stretched himself in the weight room and looked at himself in the mirror. He was the only one in the room, and he started flexing to see his physique. He smirked as he moved his forearms up and down, looking at the tension in his arms, his sweat shining on his skin, his sinew bulking up and down tightly against him. Lukas turned to see if anyone was around, deciding to get creative. He took his left arm and pulled down his right tank, sliding his arm from underneath it before doing the same with the left. His sweat stuck his skin close to his singlet but he was able to roll it down across his pecs and down to his abdomen, exposing his thinly defined six pack and a shaven, shaped treasure trail below his belly button. He crunched his abs and examined his back, flexing his shoulders to see how much muscle he had gained. “Not bad,” he told himself. I respected this young man, he was proud of his body. I realized now was just a good a time as any to merge with him. I just needed him to touch something that could let me connect with him. I flickered the lights in the weight room to get his attention then cut the power off of the lights. “Shit,” he said, “did the power go out?” I turned on the emergency light right above the light switch. If he were to touch it, I could reach out and into him. Lukas looked at the switch, contemplating to turn it. “Yes, Lukas, touch it!” I whispered into his subconscious. He walked toward the switch and I began anticipating the ritual I had not done performed in centuries. I could feel a flutter of excitement wrack through my form. “This is it,” I told myself. Sweat dripping off of Lukas, his exposed upper body walking toward me, I beckoned for him to reach out. As soon as his finger hit the switch I moved beyond the wall and touched his finger, a blue spark of electricity gracing the human. “Mmm,” I told myself as a wave of orgasmic pleasure hit me. I sorely missed this. I branched out of the wall and covered his hand as Lukas's eyes opened wide. “Holy shit!” he shouted, “What is the fuck is happening!?” Forcing myself onto his arm I started to move up his body, covering him in my electric power. The young man's body felt shapely and well-defined. He wasn't a muscular behemoth but that wouldn't be a problem, I could certainly help him with that. I wrapped around his neck and onto his head before covering myself over his pecs and abs, wrapping over his singlet and down his legs and feet. Feeling the entire body was nearly orgasmic, but I had to integrate with him. “Oh! Wow!” he said, feeling new surges of energy on his skin, “Oh fuck what is this?!” I lifted the human off the ground as he twitched his body in pleasure, Lukas's breathing started accelerating as my energy diffused around him faster and faster like a tornado picking up a toy. I dug underneath the signlet and toward the man's loins, ripping the fabric and causing it to fall to the ground. “Uhh!” Lukas shouted, he was starting to enjoy this and didn't mind exposing his whole body to my power. I graced his exposed ass within his jockstrap as it began to fray from the violent power surrounding him, but I needed the man truly naked to take his form. Picking up speed, I dug into his strap and ripped it off, let his large package hang free, whipped around my cyclical power. “Rarr!” Lukas shouted as he tensed his muscles and flexed his arms. I felt his dick and wrapped between his legs and up his ass crack. This human was in great form, but I was going to improve him. Pushing my energy, I dug immediately into his body, thrusting myself through his pores into his nervous system. I moved into his form, flowing into his body gaining control of his muscles, thoughts and consciousness. “Umm, moree!” he shouted as he felt me enter his mind, “YES! OH FUCK, A GOD YES I WANT MORE!” he shouted again, lost in his own wrath of pure power pleasure as his brain wrecked with my own consciousness. I pushed my power into Lukas, starting at his arms, buldging his forearms with power as veins snaked down them, regrowing his dark hair thickening on his skin. His sinew wrapped up his arm and into his shoulders as his pecs swelled and bulged with power, his skin tone darkening to a warrior-like golden hue. My powers then dug into his abs, expanding his flattening pecs engrooving his abdomen into a tight, well defined eight pack. Lukas rubbed his bulging hands across them as his midsection widened and shoulder broadened, expanding his upper body. “Oh fuck yeah!” he shouted through the wave of power surrounding him. Our minds met. "OHHHH God! Yes! YES, it's ARGH, Zeus! Fuck yeah! The powers of Zeus!" Lukas shouted as his breathing increased, his body taking in my powers. Lukas stretched his levitating body, lurching taller, his growth giving him inches in height. His arms stretched downward as he watched his body swell and grow like never before, thickening as his chest and lats continued to heave with every deep intensely pleasurable gasp of breath. Lukas looked between his legs as they began to pump and grow outward, football-sized quads hardening between his dick and balls as his shins tightened with muscle and feet grew outward. His formerly shaven legs began pushing his dark hair out with aggression, covering his legs and reaching up toward his now shaking cock and balls. His adonis belt tightened, creating a deep arrow directly toward his package, chiseling out this warrior form. His cock pushed out with power as it moved to the right and thickened with increasing girth. His balls began dropping lower from the verility of godly seed I was feeding into him. I entered my consciousness into his as I began to feel the human's body, his mind, his alignment with my all powerful abilities. “RARRR!” I shouted as I blinked his eyes and flexed his muscles. I had forgotten just how good it felt to be human! “OH YEAH!” I shouted again, lowering myself to the floor as I ran my hands across my new naked and bulked body. “Umm, yes,” I said again, “this feels fuckin good! Why didn't I do this sooner!” I looked at the mirror and began posing every possible muscular show off I could, stretching my back, wrapping my arms around me, crunching my abs and quads. I ran my hands down to my package and felt my dick and balls, remembering how good the sex organ felt. I shut my eyes as I touched my uncircumcised head, “I forgot some humans do this now, feels good,” I said. I crunched my butt and gave it a solid slap before turning around. This was going to be a fun week. III I picked up Lukas's tattered clothing and began walking toward the locker room when I could sense a human working his way toward me. “It's Freddy, another wrestler, a freshmen,” I told myself, sensing who it was. He was going to catch me nude and truly ripped. I could turn invisible. Or I could have a human to have a little fun with. Freddy approached the bottom of the stairs and saw me fully naked and ripped my arms crossed, in a pose to wait for him. He considered turning around but couldn't help but stare at me. “Uhh, Lukas? Is that you?” he asked. “Fuck yeah, man! I've been pumping up my body where you've been?” I answered. “Uhh, I just needed to lift some before tomorrow's meet. Coach said I gotta bulk up.” “Yeah you do,” I answered, a smirk on my face. “What happened to you?” Freddy answered, walking slowly, his guard somewhat down, now. “You're fuckin ripped, what did you do to yourself?” I didn't know how to answer that so I just said, “hard work, my friend! I was posing after I finished pumping the weights and my singlet ripped. Hope you don't mind I'm naked.” Freddy looked me over once again and gulped. If he wouldn't have known me he would have been intimidated, but he also couldn't look away, I was lusting him in ways he had never felt before. I smirked again, “hey man, I'll help you condition for tomorrow, hop on the press,” I said, pointing toward the bench. “I'll spot.” Freddy was in a t-shirt and shorts with a jockstrap on underneath. He wanted to look like me, he wanted to be me, he wanted to anything he could to get like me. So he excitedly agreed and hit the bench. I spotted him for a few rounds of pumping, Freddy driven to try harder and harder as he looked at my naked form. “How did you get like that?” He asked. “Can I have some of that, even 10% of your power,” he said. “Let's train,” I answered, “I'll show you some moves on the mat and maybe you can gain some of this physique.” I wanted an opportunity to share with him some of my strength, and this was the perfect way to get me laid and to get him some of my power. Freddy walked out toward the mat and positioned himself, but I crossed my arms and stared. He looked up at me. “What?” he asked. “Am I doing something wrong?” “You wanna be a greek warrior, right?” I answered, pointing to my body. “Get naked we're wrestling like real men did in the days of the true warriors!” Freddy's mouth dropped but his lust for me took over. He had only ever been naked before in the locker room, never actually on a mat. But he realized that he allowed his buddy Lukas to remain naked during his conditioning in the weight roomnow, why not get naked too? He let Lukas stay naked because he liked it, and with Lukas's suggestion he was starting to like the idea of being naked himself. He shrugged off his t-shirt exposing his sweaty arms and glistening chest. He kicked off his tennis shoes and slid his sweaty socks off of his brown, hairy legs. The guy was short but had muscular physique. He wasn't afraid to show himself and he wanted to further condition too. “Well, you went all out,” Freddy said, “I guess I should too.” Freddy dropped his gym shorts before stretching his jockstrap out and pushing it to the floor, stepping out in his own naked form. He fluffed his dick and clapped his hands. “We're true warriors, huh?” he asked. “Let's fuckin wrestle then!” We both took a starting pose and ran into each other, using our energy to try to pin the other. I could have easily taken him down but wanted the guy to enjoy this moment. We knocked our naked bodies together, grabbing each other in the back and on the ass to pin each other down. I let Freddy flip me over as he landed on my back. As he did I felt his full erection against my lower back, pulsing with each fast heart beat against me, booming over and over in rapid succession. I smiled, this human was enjoying this body as much as I was. I flipped him back over and kneel above him as he looked at me wide-eyed. “You have a big boner there, Fred,” I said, nodding down to his dick. “Look at you, Lukas!” He shouted between breaths, “how could I not with a body like that?” “You want some of this?” I asked with a smile. “Fuck yeah! But how?” Freddy answered. I gave my dick a couple of tugs and let it grow out, its girth gaining bloodflow and thickening as it went horizontal and began pointing high toward the ceiling. I wrapped my arms around him and picked him up like a ragdoll, the man going limp with confusion and letting me take over his body at my will. I pushed him against the wall and sat my erected dick against his back, feeling his hairy butt and reaching around to his dick. “This is going to give you the body you want,” I whispered as I entered into him, Freddy grunting with pleasure as my ever-powerful dick melded into his form. I could feel my powers brewing within my body, preparing itself to transform Freddy into a mortal but muscle behemoth. “Yes, Zeus, give it to me!” Freddy said, connecting with my mind, “I want your powers!” I rocked my hips as I felt a mortal orgasm build within me. I had forgotten how good it truly felt. I ordered my immortal seed to deposit muscular growth into Freddy and I shot load after load into him, hearing him gasp with pleasure as he felt my power building inside of him. “Oh fuck! YEAH! YEEEAAAHHHH HAHAHAH!” he started shouting as his voice moved into lower octaves. “The POWER!” Freddy started twisted as his body exploded with muscle, shoving his ass free of my dick. His sinew running from his bulking and square ass down his quads and up to his abs, back, pecs and shoulders. He stretched his arms and saw them bulk thicker and thicker as his neck widened and hair grew over his chest, down to his ass and between his legs. Freddy grabbed his package as he felt his penis explode with pleasure, growing downward as his scrotum accommodated for the weight in his growing testicles. “Mmmm,” he said, reality sinking back into him as he looked around. “Lukas, Zeus, whoever you are, thank you,” he said. He grabbed me and took his dick, pushing it against my legs. “I'm fuckin behemoth, now! How long...” he asked. “I will return to my plane on Olympus in 3 days, you will return to your former self at that time,” I answered, “you will not remember this physique and this event with much detail, you understand why.” Freddy didn't seem to mind, “gotta have some fun for the next few days, then!” he said. “Where are you going now? What are you doing tonight?” His energy was surging with excitement. “Off to the locker room now, my friend!” I shouted, “most of our team is still in the showers. I think there's some more worthy men I would like to share this with.” “You're the boss,” Freddy said, “lead the way!”
  15. muscleaddict

    The Day I Became A Muscle Freak (Part 3)

    Link to part 1 here Link to part 2 here The Transformation started with a slight tingling sensation running up and down my arms. Although my eyes were jammed shut I could sense a bright light in the room. The feeling in my arms quickly transformed into an intense, almost euphoric sensation, almost like I was being lifted off the ground. As it spread to my entire body, it became so intense that I suddenly became short of breath, and what started as a wobbling in my legs quickly turned into my whole body shaking. The transformation ended with one final, intense jolt like I was suddenly falling, or being pushed from behind. I was completely convinced that I'd open my eyes to find myself lying on the floor of The Transformer's flat. It was only when I suddenly regained feeling in my feet that I realised, against all odds, they were still planted firmly on the floor. Only they weren't my feet at all. They felt different. Almost alien. And bigger. They definitely felt bigger. In fact, everything felt bigger. It was my body. But it wasn't. My arms felt further away from my torso. My thighs were touching. My chest stuck out more. And there was more of my body round the back. A lot more. Almost like something big had been stuck on to me. What was that?! "OH MY FUCKING GOD"! The statement from the other man in the room made me jump and forced me to open my eyes. The Transformer was gawping at me in complete awe, sheer disbelief and slight fear. It was only when I caught sight of my reflection that I knew why. "OH FUCK", I exclaimed. Staring back at me in the mirror was an outrageously muscular, excessively developed, inhumanly shredded bodybuilder in bright pink posing trunks. I was huge. A fucking beast. A living, breathing anatomy chart. A barely human, grotesquely muscular freak. "FUUUUUCK"! I couldn't stop staring at the mountain of huge, rock hard, deliciously bronzed muscle mass in the mirror. My legs looked fucking mutated. Rips, cuts and lines I never thought possible ran over the ridges and rock-like mass which made up my quads. How, just HOW did these legs classify as being human? Six granite hard and gorgeous looking bricks of muscle protruded from my stomach. Each one separated by the deepest of cuts. My whole midsection covered with crazy lumps and alien bumps. It was like a work of art. A freaky, but beautiful creation. And my skin. Did I even have any? All that was there was a thin layer of darkly bronzed film, spread over the perfectly chiselled array of muscle erupting from my torso. And the pecs. Holy fuck. I had pecs! Two plates of thick, bulging mass trapped under the gloriously golden skin of my enormous sized chest, almost begging for release. My shoulders looked like they'd been replaced by two enormous boulders, and my arms had tripled in width and size. Veins were snaking all over my upper body to an almost terrifying degree. A sure reminder that humans really weren't supposed to look like this. "Fucking look at me mate", I excitedly exclaimed to the man responsible for my new freak show worthy existence. It was a completely redundant instruction of course, because The Transformer, still wearing his awe stricken expression, couldn't tear his eyes away from me. "Tobey, you're HUGE!", he adorably exclaimed. I suddenly felt a surge of confidence I hadn't previously when I'd been sat in front of this devastatingly handsome man in my normal body. "FUCK YEAH!", I confidently exclaimed. "And I'm fucking SHREDDED!", I added, once more admiring the insane striations and razor sharp cuts running across my entire body and separating every single crazily developed muscle. "How's the rear view mate?", I asked, spinning around to treat The Transformer to a view of me from the back. I was expecting a big reaction, but I never would have predicted the next words to emerge from my new admirers mouth. "FUCK! LOOK AT THAT BUM"! I sharply twisted my head round and it suddenly became apparent why I had felt like there was more of me round the back. Sticking out, either side of my shiny pink posers, now filled out to an absolutely laughable degree, was the biggest, and most developed arse I could ever imagine. The exact same arse that Stephen Dresner was so well known for. It. Was. HUGE. Copious amounts of bum beef just unashamedly sticking out for the whole world to see. "HOLY FUCK!", I exclaimed as I admired my new outrageously developed, rock hard glutes in the mirror. Other than their sheer size and development, there was something else these very glutes of Stephen's were famous for too. Still with my back to the mirror, but my head twisted round, I tensed the two gigantic orbs of meat nestling in my trunks. Sure enough, out of nowhere, a dozen deep lines and striations erupted underneath the frighteningly thin skin covering them, to reveal what had to be one of the most freakishly conditioned asses in bodybuilding. Out of nowhere, and without any sort of pre-thought, I suddenly blurted out in an admittedly cocky and rather outrageous manner, "FUCK YEAH GLUTES"! Following this outburst, I looked over at my unwilling spectator and suddenly felt a slight twinge of concern. Transfixed with my huge, freaky, striation plastered bottom, The Transformer's mouth was hanging open. And where his expression was still awe stricken and shocked, he also looked a tiny bit terrified. "Is this freaking you out mate"? He quickly responded with an instinctive no, before more honestly saying yes and adding, "I mean. It IS freaking me out. But. Fuck"! He shook his head and the right side of his mouth suddenly curled into a smile. I knew then that whatever conflicting feelings The Transformer was having, one thing for sure; he was definitely enjoying the freak show. It was that gorgeous smirk of approval which gave me the confidence to brace my next question. "So...do you wanna watch me hit some poses"? "Sure", an excitable and keen Transformer replied, not really seeming as if he knew what he was agreeing to, but apparently eager to see what a shredded muscle freak could do with his body. It was ironic. I'd felt in such awe of this still ridiculously good looking and impressively muscular man prior to my transformation. A man so sickeningly handsome that I felt nervous just being in his presence. And now, he was in awe of me, and my physical appearance. And to an exceptionally bigger degree than I had been to him. There was no doubt about it. The power had shifted tremendously. "OK let's give you...a front double bicep", I confidently said to The Transformer. Having spent the past thirty years as a regular sized man, I'd never actually hit any poses before, but I'd watched enough muscle videos of huge, ripped bodybuilders to at least have a stab at doing so. Staring once again at my new freakish body in the mirror, I bought both of my thick, muscular arms up either side of my head. With my elbows in line with my absurdly broad shoulders, I clenched both of my fists, and before I knew it, I had, albeit rather clumsily transitioned into a front double bicep. "HOLY SHIT", I exclaimed as I caught my reflection. Two huge, round balls of glistening, granite hard bicep muscle were exploding to an insane degree. I turned my head to the right to marvel at the mound of squeezed muscle erupting before my face, before turning to the left to marvel at the other. "Look at the fucking SIZE of these", I exclaimed to The Transformer. "They're MASSIVE mate", came his response. "Fuck yeah", I exclaimed, in my cockiest tone yet. I couldn't stop staring at the huge peaked muscle before me. Still clenching my fists, I continued to squeeze, and squeeze. Flexing the fuck out of my huge guns, some kind of animal instinct seemed to take over me and I suddenly let out a deep, fairly quiet growl. "Grrrrrrr"! I looked at The Transformer who was staring at my huge biceps with immense admiration. He was completely and utterly in awe. I couldn't help myself. I had to release another animalistic growl. Only this one came out a lot louder than the previous. "GRRRRRRR"! The Transformer released a half-laugh, half-astounded, "Fuck YEAH!", which seemed to spur my new found arrogance on even more. I squeezed my biceps harder still, and giving The Transformer an intense, almost aggressive stare, I released my loudest growl yet. "ARGGGHHH"! "Fuck", he replied with a short chuckle, still half amused at my display of arrogant, hyper macho flexing. As I finally relaxed from the pose, I dropped the attitude and released an amused chuckle along with my lucky spectator, who seemed to be enjoying the experience almost as much as I was. "How does it feel mate?", The Transformer asked. "To be a shredded bodybuilder, or to flex"? "Both!", he replied. Like I'm gonna cum in my posers at any given second! "Fucking AWESOME mate!", I replied. "Fancy another"? "Hell yeah", he eagerly responded. "Hmmmm. How about...a front lat spread". Looking down to see the beautiful image of my protruding six pack abs, inhuman looking quads, and shiny pink coloured bulge looking up at me, I released a quiet, "Fuck yeah", to myself. Then, grabbing and tucking both of my thumbs under the thin straps of my trunks, I bought my huge chest up and, pulling the pink coloured straps up as far as they'd go, I transitioned into a front lat spread. "HUP!", I cried out as my pecs jumped up and almost touched my chin. I stared at my reflection to see my gloriously chiselled physique in this incredibly powerful pose. My thick mutated quads were flaring to a laughable degree, my pecs kept twitching as if trying to escape my torso, and tucked under each of my armpits, two, thick lats were sticking out like wings about to take flight. "Get a load of THAT mate", I cheekily exclaimed to The Transformer. "Fucking insane!", came his reply. "Your legs look BONKERS"! "I KNOW!", I exclaimed. Relaxing from the pose and letting the straps of my posers fall back into place, I added, "These posing trunks don't look too silly on me now do they"? The Transformer blushed and released a sheepish smirk. "Time to work these abs I think"! And with this statement, I threw both of my arms around the back of my head, and crunched down HARD onto my stomach, with a big, loud, grizzly "EEUURGHHH!", in what was, undoubtedly, the most satisfying and pleasurable pose yet. Admiring the big blocks of crunched ab muscle popping protruding through the cling wrap thin skin of my stomach in the mirror, while I gritted my teeth, and scrunched up my face in effort, I felt like I'd transcended to a new plane of pleasure. Being huge and ripped and flexing for an adoring audience (albeit an audience of one) was like a high I hadn't ever come close to experiencing before. If it felt this good to pose for one person, how must it feel for a bodybuilder to be on stage, with a group of other, equally freaky muscle men and pose for a packed auditorium? I wondered if there were any local bodybuilding competitions happening in the next twenty-four houses. Maybe Stephen Dresner could turn up and put in a surprise guest posing appearance? "PHOOOOO"! I let out a cocky exhaling sound as I crunched down once more on my otherworldly midsection. Looking down, I bought my left foot forward slowly, and began to twist and tense, showing off the freak-like rips and crazy detail for my audience. Giving the same treatment to the right quad, I glanced at The Transformer. He was completely transfixed. Showing off my freakish mass and development, my abs and posing trunk covered bulge pointing in his direction, I couldn't help but shoot him a mischievous, bordering on flirtatious grin. The mystery of The Transformer’s sexuality was occupying my thoughts once again. Was The Transformer turned on by my huge, shredded muscle? Was he even gay? Did he even necessarily have to be in order to feel aroused by my excessively muscular body? I had no idea. But the way he was staring at my quads, the way he blushed when I started smiling at him, and the fact that the general atmosphere had suddenly seemed to turn a little sexual, I was sure there was a chance he was just a little bit aroused by my hyper macho display of muscle posing. Relaxing from the pose, and slightly out of breathe, I decided to be up front and satisfy my sudden curiosity of the obscenely handsome fitness magazine cover gracing man before me. "Can I ask you a question?", I cautiously said. "Sure"! "Tell me if it’s too personal, but...are you into blokes"? An amused and mischievous smile emerged on this perfect face. "Well I'm sitting here with a massive hard on right now, so...does that answer your question"? "Fuck", I exclaimed with a chuckle. "Well I wasn't expecting THAT for an answer"! I couldn't stop grinning at his cheekiness and confidence, while also feeling myself blush a little. For the first time since I'd transformed, it felt like he was the confident, cock sure guy of the two of us again. "It's the pink posers isn't it?", I jokingly asked. The Transformer laughed. "Actually I don't know what it is. I mean...I didn't feel like this when you showed me the magazine. I was shocked. And a little freaked out. I mean, those men. They're pretty extreme. But seeing you in the flesh. Well...like this. I mean...your body. You’re HUGE. I don't know why, but from the second you transformed, I just got hard. Like straight away. And when you started flexing, and making those noises. FUCK! That just turned me on even more". I stood listening to this utterly adorable and completely awesome confession with a huge smile on my face. This absurdly good looking guy with a genuinely impressive and muscular physique was actually turned on by me. OK, it wasn't technically me. He was turned on by the body I was currently inhabiting. And all I had to do was stand in front of him, and flex. And the more I flexed, the more turned on he would be. It was then that I had a brilliant flash of inspiration. He'd asked me about my superpower before but I hadn't revealed it. Could I? Should I? He'd wanted to know after all. Maybe it was time to reveal my power to The Transformer.
  16. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 12

    Blue Pill Part 12 Chris stared up in awe at the mammoth his was now impaled on. Never in a million years would Chris imagine the scene that he was living in right now. As Derek continued sliding his dick in and out of Chris’s ever tightening hole, Chris began to take inventory of his own body. “Oh my god, I’ve gotten so small!” Chris let his hands roam all over his body feeling his diminished abs and his now smaller arms. He finally got to his pecs and felt the deflated right pec, however his left pec was still engorged and pulsing with muscle power. “Derek! Please, you have to stop! I can’t get any smaller. I need to find a way to gain all my muscle back.” Chris said with a panicked look in his eye. Derek continued pumping his dick in and out of Chris as Chris tried pushing Derek back. It was no us, Derek’s adamantine ass was too powerful for Chris to stop the pumping motion. “I will Stop little Chrissie, as soon as I drain that last pec of all that delicious muscle milk.” Derek grinned as he reached towards Chris’s left pec, grabbing the swollen melon in his hand. “Ohhhhhhhhhh FUCK” Chris moaned out loud. “Derek please, you can’t do this. I worked hard for my muscles. I promise, if you let me go now I will show you where my secret stash is! Just let me go!” “Oh I already found your secret stash, why do you think I’ve gained all this muscle. However, when Luke had me take the white striped pill it didn’t drain my muscles. What did you do differently?” Chris’s eyes went wide with the realization of what the black pill does. “Oh my god, the black pill causes you to lose muscle mass!” “The black pill?” Derek looked at Chris slightly confused. “Tell me where this black pill is and I might let you go.” Derek teased as he began to lick Chris’s nipple. Chris began moaning again at the new sensation on his extremely sensitive nipple. “Ohhhhh…ok, but only if you promise to give me my muscle back.” Derek stood there staring at Chris for a moment. “Deal, now where are they?” Derek began backing up, pulling his long dick out of Chris. Chris, feeling ecstasy and relief at the same time as Derek pulled his dick out, thought maybe Derek wasn’t so bad after all. “Upstairs in my bedroom, in my desk drawer.” Derek leaned in to Chris and passionately kissed him on the lips, sliding his left hand behind Chris’s lower back and his right hand behind his neck, Derek began lifting Chris off the bench. As he did so, Chris began to slowly slight back down Derek’s mammoth pole. “What..what are you doing?” Chris said in a half moan half shocked sound. “I’m taking you with of course. I would hate for you to be lying to me and then make off with the bottle yourself.” Derek grinned maliciously as Chris’s ass finally touched Derek’s pelvis. Chris felt so full with all of Derek inside him, but he knew that 6 of those 19 inches were rightfully his and he would soon have them back. Derek began walking with his dick inside Chris, lifting his ass up a little and then dropping it back down on his dick. “So you only took the black pill?” Derek asked Chris as Chris’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “FUCK!” Chris yelled out as he blew another load all over Derek’s abs. “No…I took two blue pills… with a black pill…” Chris stammered between bated breaths. Derek had heard all that he needed to. He began kissing the base of Chris’s neck and working his way down as they rounded the corner in the hallway. Derek latched onto Chris’s pec as he began to ascend the stairs. His thick muscular legs bulging with power as he continued to lift Chris up and down on his pulsing rod as he pulled hard at the milk in Chris’s left pec. Chris couldn’t even process what was going on, “what… are… you… doing?” Chris’s eyes were rolling back into his head as Derek reached up to Chris’s pec with his right hand, while still supporting Chris’s ass with his left, he began to squeeze the pec, forcing the milk out even faster. Derek could feel the climb up the stairs getting easier and easier as his legs grew more massive from the flow of muscle milk. His arms began to bulge larger as it made holding Chris up easier and his pecs began to push Chris further away from him as he continued to fuck him and suck out the remaining muscle milk. Chris looked over Derek’s bulging boulder shoulder and noticed a sweater lying on the ground and two pill bottles sprawled across the floor. “Here, take these. You’ll need them to get bigger” Derek said as he handed Chris two of the plain blue pills. Derek leaned back in, pulling the last of the muscle milk from Chris as Chris greedily took the two blue pills. Once in Chris’s room, Derek finally began to lift Chris off his gigantic pole. Chris could almost touch the 8ft ceiling when he heard a loud *pop*, as the head of Derek’s dick popped out of Chris’s hole, releasing a flood of cum all over his bedroom floor. A loud wet smack was heard as Derek’s glistening dick head smacked into the cleft between his pecs. Chris felt weak when Derek finally lowered him to his feet. Like all the strength had left his body. “Alright, let’s get you bigger. Where are these black pills?” Derek asked as he began opening drawers on Chris’s desk. “I was afraid you wouldn’t stick to your promise, so I lied about where they were, but since you were honest I will tell you. They’re on top of my medicine cabinet, but I don’t think I can reach them at my current height.” Chris said as he stood on his tiptoes trying to reach the bottle of pills on top of the cabinet. “Here, let me help you with that.” Derek reached forward and grabbed the bottle with no struggle thanks to his new height. Derek quickly unscrewed the cap and looked inside. He shook the bottle, dropping a single black pill into his hand. “All I have to do is take this along with two blue pills and you will drain your muscles back?” “I believe so, that’s what I did before you came over.” Chris said looking hopeful as he saw two blue pills appear between Derek’s fingers. “Well here goes nothing.” Derek threw back the two blue pills and swallowed. He stared at the black pill for just a moment and then popped it into his mouth as well. “Before we do this, do you mind if I take a piss real quick?” “Not at all.” Chris said, all too anxious to gain his muscles back. He backed out of the bathroom and sat on his bed waiting for Derek to finish pissing so he could grow into the massive beast he was before. Derek shut the door as a huge grin spread across his face. He spit the black pill back out into his hand where it joined a blue pill with a white stripe. “He has more muscle to spare, plus he’ll gain it back really quick. There’s no way I’m giving up this body.” Derek whispered to himself as he looked up into the mirror. He brought one of his biceps up into a flex and he could touch the peak with his hand it was so big. Derek then brought his arm down and did a most muscular pose showing off his massive upper body. He began popping his pec muscles up and down. Watching the hefty meat pillows bounce. He reached up with his right hand and tweaked his nipple. He began to moan as pre-cum began flowing from his dick head between his pecs. *KNOCK KNOCK* “Is everything ok in there?” Chris said from the other side of the door. “Yeah, sorry. Just got a little excited in here is all. Almost done” Derek looked at the two pills in his hand, trying to figure out how he was going to get Chris to take them. He didn’t want to force him. As Derek continued to wrack his brain trying to think of a solution, his throbbing dick head continued to pulse out pre cum, throbbing and smacking him between the pecs. It was then that Derek realized the solution was right in front of him this whole time. Derek took the black pill and rubbed it along his dick head, getting it slick from all the pre. He then began to slide it into his dick hole. He pushed his pinkie in after it making sure it was down in there far enough. He then did the same thing with the white striped pill. Moaning the whole time he did it, the last knuckle of his pinkie finally pushing in through his piss slit. Derek pulled his pinkie out and turned to open the door. He swung the door open to reveal a shocked Chris standing on the other side. “Jesus Christ! That thing was inside me!” Chris couldn’t believe his eyes as he stared at the python before him. Derek’s dick looked red and swollen and thanks to its thickness you could barely see the two small lumps along the underside of his dick. “I would like to put it inside you again before I lose all this muscle.” Derek said with a sly grin on his face as he grabbed his dick, moving it side to side and rubbing pre all over his nipples. “However much I would love to have that thing inside me again, I don’t want to stray from the process of getting my muscles back.” Derek put a pouty face on “at least tell me that you’ll suck it for me and worship this rockin bod one last time before I lose it all.” Derek threw both arms up into a massive double bicep pose. Veins snaking all over his arms as his dick continued to throb between his pecs. Chris, feeling bad for Derek’s predicament, reached forward and grabbed a hold of the base of his warm thick flesh pole. “I guess I could at least do that for you, since you’re willing to do this for me.” Chris pulled down on Derek’s dick, finding some resistance as the thick snake fought to stay up. Chris began licking the cock head and swirling his tongue in the pre cum, drinking it up. Chris knew that part of this dick would soon be his again and it made him hungry. Chris launched himself onto Derek’s dick, taking the first 6 inches, but not being able to go any further due to the girth. Derek slowly moved towards the bed as Chris continued to suck in the tip of his dick. Once Derek could feel the bed behind him he lowered himself until his ass rested on the edge, the bed angrily protesting underneath his weight. Derek could feel himself getting closer as Chris began to stroke his meat as he continued to suck on the head. A moment of panic filled Derek’s senses as he could feel the two pills being pushed up his dick by Chris’s stroking. He knew he had to shoot and he had to shoot soon, otherwise Chris would figure out what he was trying to do. Derek laid back on the bed propping his upper body up on his elbows as he began tugging hard on his nipples. “Ohhhhhhhhh Fuuuuuuucckkkk, I’m about to shoot!” Derek leaned back up as he felt himself reaching climax. He grabbed the back of Chris’s head and shoved him down another 6 inches on his dick. “FUCK HERE I CUUUUUUUMMMMM” With a foot of his cock snaked down Chris’s throat, Derek began to unload his seed. He could feel the two pills leave his dick as they were launched out with the force of his orgasm from behind. Derek held Chris there for a moment, making sure the pills had made their way into Chris’s stomach. Derek let go of Chris’s head as Chris quickly backed off the pole, gasping for air. *COUGH COUGH* “What the fuck…*cough* is wrong with you! I almost died” Chris said as tears streamed down his face, gasping for breaths as the color returned to his face. “Oh, don’t over exaggerate!” Derek said with a grin on his face. Chris shot him an evil look. “You’ll regret that.” “Oh come on…here, I’ll return the favor.” Derek lifted Chris up by his armpits as he took Chris’s dick into his mouth. Chris’s dick quickly went from soft to rock hard as Derek’s expert cock sucking skills were put to the test. Even though Chris was 6 inches smaller than his previous size, 8 inches was still a decent size. Chris began to feel up Derek’s massive arms as he held him in place. Feeling all the veiny mass in each orb, he couldn’t believe what his muscle had helped create. Then something struck Chris as odd. “Hey! Shouldn’t our dicks have gone back to their normal size by now?” Chris began to feel panicked as he felt Derek’s dick head splitting his ass cheeks. “That’s weird, how is your dick head suddenly hitting my ass when you haven’t lowered me at all.” A grin grew on Derek’s face as he continued sucking on Chris’s slowly deflating cock. “Derek, you have to stop. Something is wrong. I think I’m still shrinking.” Chris tried pushing himself away from Derek’s expert sucking, but he didn’t budge at all. Derek began to moan as he felt his cock head finally penetrating Chris’s tight ass. It was too much for Chris as he began to blow his load down Derek’s throat he could feel his dick quickly shrinking in Derek’s mouth. Derek began sucking even harder at the feeling of Chris’s cum hitting the back of his throat. He could feel his dick tingling as it began stretching even faster, pushing further and further into Chris without either one of them moving. Chris was down to a tiny nub of a dick as it popped out of Derek’s mouth. It was too small to suck but it was still leaking precious dick juice, so Derek continued licking at Chris’s nub forcing his own dick to surge into Chris even further. Derek had to spread his legs further apart to make room for his ballooning testicles. Chris and Derek both looked at Chris’s dick in shock as it inverted into his body leaving a gaping hole where his dick once was. His balls shriveled up until they just became flaps of skin around where his dick used to be. “Holy Fucking Shit” Chris squeaked as his voice went higher. “Oh my god, Derek you have to stop, we have to figure out how to reverse this.” Derek didn’t listen as he dove into Chris’s new slit with his tongue. Licking Chris’s new moist flaps for all they were worth. Chris began moaning as he reached down and began tweaking his nipples. Derek pulled the head of his dick out of Chris’s ass and the dick head smacked Derek in the chin. “No fucking way! I’m a fucking god!” Derek moved his cock head to line it up with Chris’s new tight hole. “You ready for the fucking of a life time?” Derek looked down at Chris’s body. It still resembled a lithe swimmers build, but he now had a super tight vagina instead of a dick. Derek began shoving his dick into Chris, watching as it pushed his stomach out from the sheer mass of it. He watched the head of his cock travel further and further until it got lost in Chris’s rib cage. “Fuck! Your pussy is so much tighter than your ass!” As Derek bottomed out he looked down and realized he still had 10 inches of cock to go. He pulled his dick out and shoved it back in making Chris moan with tears streaming down his face. Derek began bucking into Chris faster and faster all the while making Chris bounce up and down on his dick across the bed. Derek watched as Chris’s bouncing pecs began to get fuller, bouncing more and more. “Why is this happening? They shouldn’t be growing again?!” Chris said with panic in his voice as he grabbed onto his enlarging man breasts trying to keep them from growing. They began to spill out past his hands. Seeing this drove Derek into a frenzy. Not wanting to waste a perfect opportunity, he grabbed Chris’s wrists with one hand and held them above his head as he leaned in and squeezed Chris’s right man melon, causing milk to spurt into his waiting mouth. Derek latched onto Chris’s tit as he squeezed and sucked for all it was worth. Amazingly the size didn’t diminish at all, it just got softer in Derek’s hand as he felt the milk slow down to a trickle. Derek reached over for the other tit and did the same. He began to feel his frame pulsing larger and piling on more muscle as he sucked all the male virility from Chris. Derek could feel himself reaching the edge as he continued to pump his dick in Chris’s tight snatch. Derek released Chris’s breast and threw both of his arms up into a double bicep pose as he drove his dick as far as it would go into Chris. “FUCK YESSSSS, WORSHIP YOUR GOD YOU LITTLE MUSCLE BITCH!!!!!” Chris watched as Derek’s biceps exploded with power. Chris began to squirm as his tight snatch clamped down hard on Derek’s dick, releasing his juices all over the massive schlong. Derek’s dick surged larger inside Chris, forcing the cock head even further in. Chris began choking as something felt very wrong inside him. Derek picked Chris up and pulled him into a passionate kiss as he plowed his exploding dick into his moist snatch. He wrapped his sinewy arms around her as he began to taste his own cum in his mouth. He pulled back from the embrace only to see that Chris was blue in the face and cum was spewing out of his mouth. Derek slowly slid his dick out of Chris and laid her on the bed as his dick continued spilling its seed all over her unconscious body. Derek continued flexing and worshipping his own body as he walked into the bathroom. “NO FUCKING WAY! I HAVE TO BE THE BIGGEST MAN ON THE PLANET!” Derek couldn’t believe the site before his eyes as he admired all the new beef on his frame in the bathroom mirror. Derek waddled his way over to the bathroom scale “330 FUCKING POUNDS! IM A BEAST!” Derek roared as he flexed his arms above his head! “I CAN”T WAIT TO BE TWICE THIS SIZE!”
  17. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 13

    Sorry for the long wait. Without further ado, I present to you... Blue Pill Part 13 Chris’s father James had just pulled up to the drive when he noticed an unfamiliar car parked in front of his house. “Chris better not have any of his stupid jock friends over, I’ve got Tiffany coming over later for a good fucking!” James said out loud in a pissed off tone. He headed up the front steps and into the house. Once inside he noticed a sweater on the floor next to the door. He picked up the sweater and placed it on the coat rack. “Fucking kids today have no respect for others property.” As James put the sweater on the coatrack a bottle fell out of the sweater pocket and rolled across the floor. He picked it up and examined the bottle. Right away he realized it was one of the bottles from his lab. “That little shit is in some serious trouble now!” James stormed off up the stairs only to find that the stairs were slick and covered with an opaque substance. “What is that smell?” James recognized the smell. It was an all too familiar scent. It was the smell of sex. The manly aroma of testosterone and sperm. He made his way over to his son’s door and threw it open expecting to give his son the beating of a lifetime, instead he was surprised to find a naked busty woman in his bed passed out and covered in sperm. The sperm still dripping from her gaping pussy. “I didn’t think my son had it in him. Well maybe I won’t beat him to death, but he is still in deep shit for the mess on the stairs and stealing my lab products.” As James walked further into the bedroom, he realized that the shower was running. James stepped over to the bathroom door and pulled it open, only to find himself staring at a wall of muscle in his sons shower. “Holy Fuck!” James whispered to himself in excitement. The behemoth in the shower was furiously scrubbing something in front of it, but by the looks of this monsters back, James could tell that it wasn’t his son. The manly aroma that was in the stairway was 100 times stronger in the bathroom, causing James big daddy dick to slowly start inching towards the bottom of his running shorts. James continued to watch the behemoth as it continued its stroking action and it released a beastly moan. James was now rock hard as the head of his dick poked out of the bottom of his shorts, dripping precum onto the tiled floor in the bathroom. James slowly backed up and shut the bathroom door, so as to not startle the muscle freak in his sons shower. “My god he is huge! He had to of gotten ahold of some of my lab products, but which ones?” The girl on Chris’s bed began to stir and as she did she moved her arms down from up above her head. As she did, James noticed a tribal tattoo on her right arm. “My son has the same tattoo on his right arm. HOLY FUCK! Chris, is that you?” “D..adddd….” Chris said as he coughed up cum. “Christ! What happened Chris?!” but before James could get a response, he heard the water turn off to the shower, so he quickly darted out of his sons bedroom so he didn’t get caught by the monster on the other side of the door. Thinking quickly, James ran off to his bedroom. Closing the door behind him and locking it, he ran for his walk in closet. Once inside he threw back some extra bedding at the far end revealing a keypad. He entered his passcode and a doorway was revealed at the back of the closet. Stepping in, he was surrounded by computer screens and vials and desks where all of his recent work could be found. He shot over to a wall with a single vial in a case. It was pure black liquid inside. “I haven’t had a chance to test it, but desperate times call for desperate measures!” James pulled out a syringe jabbed it into the stopper and pulled the plunger back on the syringe, filling it to capacity. James lowered his shorts, revealing his plump smooth daddy dick. “Well here goes nothing.” James winced in pain as he stabbed the needle into his right testicle and injected half the syringe. He then pulled the syringe out stabbing it into his left testicle and emptying the syringes contents. James pulled the needle out and slowly massaged his sore swollen testicles. James dropped the syringe as he fondled his sore swollen testicles in his hands. They were about the size of large eggs, massaging them back and forth as he winced from the pain. “Time to go test out this serum and see if it works.” James heard a moaning sound as he left his lab and headed back towards the hall. As he got closer to his bedroom door he realized the sound was coming from his son’s room, but it sounded like the moans of a woman in the throes of an orgasm. James tiptoed down the hall, hoping to catch a peak of what his once alpha jock son was moaning about. James reached the door and grasped the doorknob, slowly turning it as to not disturb what was going on in the bedroom. As a sliver of light was cast into the hallway, James could see his son still laying on his bed. Writhing on the sheets as he continued to moan in pleasure. James leaned forward just a little more to see what was causing his son to moan with such pleasure only to find the behemoth from the shower at the foot of his sons bed. The muscular freak had a hand on each one of his son’s breasts and was tonguing his pussy hard. Pinching his nipples as milk began to flow from them. The behemoth leaned forward and sucked a little from each tit and James watched as the muscular monster slowly got larger right before his eyes. “You want to see me get bigger don’t you?” The behemoth boomed out in his deep baritone bass. Chris writhed on the bed in pleasure as Derek slid his muscle milk covered fingers into Chris’s tight snatch. “Please put it in me. I want to feel you fill me with your seed” Chris moaned delirious with sexual delight. “You know what I need you to do then” Derek said as he produced a bottle of pills from down on the floor and shook one out into his hand. “You’ve got to take one of these if you want me inside you again.” Without hesitation Chris snatched the pill out of Derek’s hand throwing it in his mouth and swallowing quickly without giving it a second thought. Derek stood up tall and then leaned down kissing Chris hard on the mouth as his throbbing python slick with pre rubbed against Chris’s moist snatch. Derek’s dick had to be close to two feet long now and Chris was beginning to wonder how he was going to take it. Derek began pushing his thick mushroom head into Chris’s pussy, finding resistance as he tried to enter. Derek pushed harder and Chris screamed as the head popped into his waiting pussy. “Fuck you’re so tight!” Derek moaned as he began moving the head of his dick in and out of Chris’s pussy, making the lips swollen and puffy from the workout they were getting. Chris began panting and shaking on the bed. “Fuck, I’m so fucking close. Derek I’m GOING TO CUM!!!” Derek quickly pulled out and leaned down to suck up all the sweet juice that Chris had to offer. Pushing his tongue deep into Chris’s tight snatch to make sure he got all of it. Derek stood back up and couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. Chris had begun to grow. Chris’s fingers were tweaking his nipples as his tits began to push out even further, forcing his hands to reach even farther to play with his nips. His waist got more slender as his hips pushed out making a perfect hourglass shape. Derek couldn’t contain himself anymore. He quickly threw both arms underneath Chris and lifted her up as he made her straddle his throbbing dick, which Derek finally realized was slowly growing from Chris’s pussy juice. Derek lowered Chris down onto his dick but the pussy lips wouldn’t part. Derek pushed down hard on Chris’s shoulders as tears began to flow down Chris’s face, but those lips just wouldn’t part. The whole time this was going on, James had pulled out his dick in the other side of his son’s bedroom door and was stroking his 8 inch thick cock. “Now is my opportunity” James whispered to himself. James swung open his sons bedroom door, just as Derek was about to try to shove his cock in Chris’s back door. “Why don’t you give my son a rest and give me a go.” Derek quickly turned around, not expecting anyone else to be in the house. He was surprised at what he saw. Standing in front of him was a thick built muscle daddy in his mid-forties. He was hairy, but trimmed and to top it off he had a thick uncut cock dripping with pre cum. As Derek eyed up the muscle daddy, all he could think of was the potential mass that this man could help him add to his frame. “I’ll make a deal with you.” James said as he saw some slight hesitation in the massive monsters eyes. “Whoever cums first has to take one of those black pills.” Derek quickly looked at the bottle on the floor with a surprised expression. “Yes I know about those. Who do you think invented them?” James said with a sparkle in his eye. “What do you say? Sound like a deal?” James reached his hand out to shake with Derek. Derek reached his big paw out and shook James’s hand vigorously. Derek didn’t let go of his hand as he quickly reached for James’s other hand and pulled him up against his own muscular frame. Derek took in a big breath, breathing in James’s manly alpha essence. A grin formed on his face because he knew that everything James possessed would soon be his. Derek lifted James up until his hairy muscular thighs were straddling his enlarged python. “Fuck me big boy.” James growled in Derek’s ear. Derek, still on edge from Chris’s transformation, shoved James down on his dick as the head popped in and the first foot of dick went in with ease. James instantly threw his head back and began to moan as Derek filled him in ways he never thought was possible. “Yeah, how do you like that? Those muscles will be mine daddy!” Derek dove his mouth down on James’s thick daddy dick and continued to drive his own dick ever deeper into James’s hole. Derek could taste James sweet pre-cum filling his mouth and he wanted more. Derek began sucking hard like a vacuum. James couldn’t believe how fast he was reaching his orgasm. ‘This is going to be way too easy’ James thought. Derek could feel James was close to orgasm as he felt his ass clenching around his massive fuck pole. With one last thrust, Derek shoved his dick to the hilt in James’s ass and reached up pulling hard on his nipples as he sucked his cock for all it was worth. James’s eyes rolled back in his head as he could feel his cock bucking hard inside Derek’s mouth, shooting volley after volley at the back of Derek’s throat. Derek, amazed at the volume this older daddy could produce, had a hard time keeping up, but wanted every last drop of that sweet nectar. When the last remnants of James’s orgasm had been sucked clean from his quivering dick, Derek let the dick fall out of his mouth with a pop. With Derek’s dick still in James’s ass he threw both of his arms up into a double bicep pose and roared. “I AM A GOD!!! AND WITH YOUR MUSCLES I SHALL GROW EVEN MORE!!!” Every vein exploded forth underneath Derek’s paper thin skin has he began firing his pent up seed inside James’s tight man hole. Derek began pistoning his 26 inch dick in and out of James’s tight hole, making cum squirt back out as he continued to shoot. Derek dropped the bicep pose and latched onto his own nipples, pinching them. He reached his hands up tasting the sweet nectar from his fingers as it dripped from his nipples. Derek’s eyes flew open as he realized he was producing milk. James had a huge grin on his face as Derek finally looked him in the eyes. “What did you do to me?” Derek said with a look of panic in his eyes. “My Turn” James said as the walls began to spin around Derek.
  18. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 15

    Blue Pill Part 15 James always kept in good shape his whole life. He ran track in high school and played tennis, giving him a lithe build with sinewy muscles. It wasn’t until James left for college that he started visiting the weight-room more often. That’s where his lust for muscle began, it’s also where he first met Titus. Back then Titus was an Adonis, he had the body of a Greek god. James quickly became good friends with Titus, lifting with him, hanging out with him, only to find that they were both going to school for the same thing. Being around all that beautiful muscle always had James hard. James didn’t think he was gay, but something about Titus’s body drove him wild. It was at that point in his life that he would do everything and anything he could to become bigger. So throughout his college years, James had packed on some muscle to his thin sinewy frame, giving him more of a swimmers build. At 170 pounds, packed with muscle, he wasn’t much to bat an eye at but he was still quite the stud. After college he became obsessed with working out and it wasn’t until he stated working with Titus at the same government agency that James fell off the deep end and started taking steroids. He wanted to do everything he could to catch up to Tidus. No matter what he did though, Tidus was always bigger. James would say to himself, “One day I will be bigger than you Tidus. I will take all that you have worked so hard for and make it mine.” As he stood staring at his reflection in the mirror, James thought for the first time in his life that his dream could become a reality thanks to the muscle growth serum he had produced. James brought his arm up into a tight flex and watched as his 20 inch orb of sweaty, veiny daddy muscle bulged in front of his eyes. He reached up and tweaked one of his nipples and gasped in a sharp breath of air as pleasure rocked through his body, making his almost 10 inch turgid dick bob in front of him. He looked down as he watched a glob of pre-cum fall from the tip of his penis to the floor. James let out a low guttural growl as he continue to tweak his nipple and let one of his hands wander down to his cock to give it a few strokes, covering it in his slick pre-cum. “Let’s see what this body can do.” James started with his legs. Squatting all the way down to the floor with his new found strength it was easy. He found himself squatting nearly 400 pounds by the time he was done with his final set. He couldn’t believe how full and pumped his legs were. You could see veins branching off everywhere through the matted hair on his thick bulging legs. His legs had to be closing in on 28 inches, which was almost as big as his waist. James loved how his thick thighs now pushed his package out. James gave his hard throbbing dick a few more strokes, sending pre-cum all over his lower abs. Next James headed for the bench top do some chest presses. He loaded the bar up with 250, about 50 pounds heavier than his usual. James finished his first set with ease. “That barely even gave me a pump!” James said, astonished as head added another 50 to each side. James got under the bar and started his first rep and found that it was the perfect amount of resistance. He loved the feel in his pecs as rep after rep he watched his meaty mounds bulge higher, quickly making his rock hard nipples disappear out of view. His hairy pecs were covered in veins and sweat by the time he finished his last rep. He dropped the bar on the support and sat up. Instantly he felt the new weight in his pecs from his pump as they pulled further down then they usually do. James couldn’t believe his eyes as he looked in the mirror. His pecs were so red and swollen from all of the blood he pumped into them. He reached for a nipple only to find they were more sensitive than ever. This time James’s dick belched out pre-cum as if he were having an orgasm, but he wasn’t. He scooped up some of his pre-cum and rubbed it over his hairy pecs, giving them a shiny appearance and making them slick. James kept rubbing his slippery hands over his nipples, making his dick shoot out more ropes of pre-cum. James reached back down and scooped up more pre-cum, this time slathering his dick in it. He stroked his dick up and down as he was rewarded with even more pre-cum. James caught the pre-cum in his hand this time, curious, he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked his palm. A buzzing sensation rushed through his body as his sensory nerves were overloaded. James couldn’t believe the rush, so he quickly lapped up all that was left in his hand. His eyes rolled back in his head as he reached for his nipple again to tweak it. James was quickly brought out of his euphoria as he felt his nipple slowly stretching further down on his pec. He opened his eyes, but didn’t see anything odd. “Hmmm, that’s strange. James reached back down to stroke his dick, and when he wrapped his hand around it he could have sworn it felt meatier, thicker almost. James looked up in the mirror and gasped at the full body pump he had. “Holy fuck! I didn’t look this hard a moment ago!” James had scooped up another handful of pre-cum to test his theory that he had formed in his head as to how he looked harder, when his wife Sarah walked in. “CHRIST JAMES! What the hell happened to you?!?” Sarah looked shocked as she eyed her husband up and down. James turned to face Sarah. When he did, she saw his throbbing man meat for the first time since walking in the room. “FOR FUCKS SAKE!!! IS YOUR DICK BIGGER TOO????” Sarah’s eyes about bugged out of her head as a wet spot began to form in the crotch of her yoga pants. “You like it baby? It’s all for you!” James rumbled in his baritone as he went into a most muscular, sending all of his veiny, sweat coated muscles into sharp relief. Sarah couldn’t believe her eyes as she stifled a moan and bit her lip, the wet spot growing ever larger in her pants. “I know you want this thick daddy dick inside you. Come here and show me how badly you want this dick.” James said in a cocky manner as he flexed his dick, making it bob up and down, causing the veins running the length of his shaft to bulge even more. Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. She quickly closed the distance between her and James as she came in for a kiss. James pulled her into his embrace, she feel into his thick meaty pecs and had to stand on her tip toes to reach his thick meaty lips. While locked in their passionate embrace, James slid his pre-cum soaked hand down the front of Sarah’s yoga pants and began massaging her pussy. James slid his index finger in as Sarah let out a moan against his lips. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he continued to push his finger in past the knuckle. As James began moving his finger in and out of his wife’s pussy, he noticed that it was growing tighter around his finger. He thought that meant she was readying herself for an orgasm. So he pulled his finger out and backed his hand out of her pants. James reached down with both hands, grabbing on both sides of the wet spot of his wife’s yoga pants and ripped them open, revealing his wife’s leaking, quivering vagina. James pickled up his wife to straddle the hole in her yoga pants over his throbbing manhood. Pre-cum was pulsing out of the tip of his dick at a near constant rate now as the head of his turgid cock pushed at his wife’s pussy lips. It was a tight fit, but his cock head eventually made its way in. James began pushing in only to find that he hit the back of his wife’s wall with only 4 inches of his dick inside her. He kept feeling resistance as if her pussy was getting tighter. “OUCH! James that really hurts!” James pulled his dick out. “Sorry baby, but I’m too fucking horny. I’ve gotta fuck one way or another.” With Sarah’s legs wrapped around his torso, James reached behind his wife’s supple ass and ripped a new hole where her thick luscious cheeks split. James lowered her back down onto his dick, this time entering her tight pucker, he pushed until his cock head popped in. His pre-cum soaking her ass cheeks as he continued to spill more pre inside her. All the pre-cum made it real easy for him to slide his dick all the way to the hilt. “Oh My Gawwwwd baby! That feels sooo fucking good!” Sarah’s eyes were rolling back in her head now. James took that as a sign so he began to pull back out just to push his dick all the way back in. Supporting her weight and with his dick still inside of her, James walked them over to the Weight bench and lowered Sarah down onto the bench. Sarah had reached up and started playing with her nipples as James continued ploughing her ass. James remembered that he forgot to work his arms, lifted the bar above his wife’s head. He started doing bar curls as he continued driving his dick in and out of his wife’s ass. Each thrust with his rock solid dick driving him to lift the weight harder and faster with his arms. James couldn’t take his eyes off of his thick bulging biceps as each rep drove the peak higher and cause his veins to pulse even thicker. After about 100 reps, James noticed an odd sensation. It felt as if his wife’s ass was growing tighter around his throbbing dick. James looked down in shock, only to see his wife playing with her nipples. What shocked him though was the fact that his wife’s breasts looked bigger and more solid. That wasn’t the only thing though, her whole body looked harder. Like she had been lifting weights for the past 6 months. Then James got a real surprise when his wife gasped as milk shot out of her nipples. “Am I lactating?!?” Sarah asked with a look of confusion on her face. Sarah brought her hand to her nose to smell and James quickly grabbed her wrist and brought her hand up to his mouth. He sucked her finger into his mouth, tasting the sweet nectar that her jugs now produced. “mmmmmmmm” James moaned as he felt a familiar tingling sensation throughout his body. After sucking her fingers clean James leaned in and took on of her nipples in his mouth. The moment the milk spurted into the back of his throat, he lost it as he began shooting his pent up load. James began bucking into his wife’s ass harder and faster like a feral beast as he sucked even harder at her tit. Sarah could feel her husband shooting inside her as his dick throbbed over and over, however each time it throbbed it didn’t seem to decrease in size. Sarah’s eyes rolled back again as James began to hit new territory with his dick. “How the hell is that even possible?!” Sarah wondered out loud. Sarah realized that wasn’t the only thing that had grown as she latched onto James’s arms as an orgasm swept over her. She began summing and she could feel it hit her belly and the bottom of her tits. Sarah was so lost in her orgasm she didn’t pay much attention to it. She kept feeling her husband’s arms as she felt the rock hard boulders bulge larger in her hands. “Oh Fuck!” Sarah yelped as James had completely drained her first tit. Even though James had already cummed he continued driving his dick inside his wife’s ass as he felt his dick pulsing larger inside her. James quickly began sucking Sarah’s other tit. As he did his back muscles bulged thicker his lats bulged wider, pushing his arms further out. James had to reposition his stance as his quads fought for space. Probably the most beautiful sight of it all was his monstrous pecs. Which his wife had a wonderful view of as they began to sag lower, filling with more meaty muscle. Sarah reached up, feeling his rock hard pecs until she finally found his nipples on the underside of his pecs. Sarah pinched them and as she did her husband moaned while sucking her milk, driving his dick all the way inside her. Once again she felt her husband’s dick pulsating in her, spilling his seed inside her. Sarah felt odd as it felt as if her back was sliding along the bench as her husband continued ramming his fuck pole inside her. She looked down at her own arms as she watched them bulge thicker right before her very eyes. Her breasts no longer looked like breasts, they were hard and starting to show veins. She watched as her other breast started to inflate a little. She watched as her legs, which were up in the air from her husband fucking her, bulged thicker as more muscle was pushed into her ballooning quads. Sarah’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as her husband switched back to the other tit. He had drained it in no time and there wasn’t much to take from the one he was on now. Sarah didn’t have much time to test her theory as to why she was growing, so she quickly reached her hands back up and gave her husband’s nipples a flick. This time James clamped down on her nipple with his teeth as he saw stars. He instantly began firing his load inside his wife’s ass. This time he came so much that cum started squirting back out and onto the bench. Sarah began cumming almost instantly as she felt her husband’s teeth clamp onto her sensitive nip. This time Sarah felt the sum spray all over her stomach and she heard a shot hit the bottom of her husband’s thick meaty pec. She had a moment of realization as her husband was still cumming inside her. So that was her cum that shot all over her. Surprised by cum hitting his pec, James finished milking his wife’s tit, just as they started to fill back up again. He leaned back up and noticed that his wife looked insanely muscular, like an amateur bodybuilder and her muscles were bulging right before his eyes, getting bigger with each passing second. “Fuck yeah! You’re getting so big baby, but nothing compares to these!!!” James lifted his arms into a double biceps pose as the peak rose higher and higher. “Gotta be closing in on 23 inches now. Jesus, look at these things!” James couldn’t takes his eyes of his own rock hard mounds of muscle. His body hair was matted down and covered in sweat from his intense workout and fuck session. Sweat dripped from his rock hard nipples as he continued to flex his biceps. Sarah couldn’t contain herself with the sight before her eyes, she reached down to finger fuck herself but when her hand got there, it hit something hard. She grabbed onto it only realizing that she was grabbing onto herself. Sarah looked down in time to see her own dick where he pussy used to be. It was growing larger right before her. The head looking swollen and angry, she gave it a few strokes and laid back again as she fired shot after shot against James’s rock hard abs. As Sarah’s dicked pulsed with her orgasm it made a wet smacking sound against her husband’s stomach. The sound of wet smacking and the feeling of cum shooting on him brought James out of his lustful state. He looked down only to see an unrecognizable face and body below him. No longer were there the supple curves of his wife or the big bulging breasts. Instead a handsome seasoned bodybuilder lay on the bench with James’s dick still buried in his ass. “My God, What have I done?”
  19. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 16

    Blue Pill Part 16 James was in a state of shock as he looked down at the muscle bound man at the end of his dick. He couldn’t believe that just moments ago he was fucking his supple, voluptuous wife. “Sarah? Is that still you? Are you ok?” James asked with a worried look on his face. “Mmmmm I’ve never felt better baby.” The voice that rumbled from the throat of his used to be wife, sounded nothing like her former self. It was deep and rugged. It made his dick pulse inside his wife. James was taken out of his train of thought as he heard a deep moaning coming from beneath him. He looked down to see that Sarah had reached up and began pinching one of her tender swollen nipples. Milk began flowing freely from the nipple as her other hand stroked her newly formed 7 inch dick. “My god James! If I knew that being a man would feel this good, I would have had you do this to me a long time ago.” James could see the lust in Sarah’s eyes as she started stroking her pre-cum slicked dick faster. James’s dick pulsed harder in Sarah’s ass at the sight of her tweaking her nip as she stroked her dick. He knew he needed to pull out before she got any bigger. He needed to think of a way to reverse the effect and make his wife a woman again. James began to slowly back his dick out of his wife until the head popped out of her ass. James couldn’t believe how much his dick had grown. It looked like it was almost a foot long now. Had to be close to 8 inches thick. It was covered in veins and his cock head was huge. That was nothing compared to his bull balls. They hung low in his sack almost the size of baseballs. James felt relief as his dick head popped out. He thought for sure that he was going to burst. Before James knew what was happening, Sarah had wrapped her newly muscular legs behind his back and pulled him in closer to her, driving his enraged cock head back into her waiting hole. Sarah and James both let out a moan in unison as Sarah drove her husband’s dick further into her ass. James became panicked as he knew what cumming inside his wife would do. He tried pulling out against his wife’s legs, but she had become quite strong from all of his cum. James knew he was stronger though, but for how much longer. James willed his muscles to push harder as his dick began to pull back out. The whole time his bulbous cock head was rubbing against his wife’s prostate. Sarah let out another deep moan and her head fell back as she started firing cum everywhere out of her bucking 7 incher. The sight before him was almost too much for James, he was right on the edge of orgasm. He was almost out of Sarah when he felt to hands on his pillow like pecs. He then felt fingers grasp on to his super sensitive nips as it pushed him over the edge. “Yeah! Cum for me daddy. Fill me with your seed. Make me huge!” Sarah had an almost evil glint in her eye as she twisted James’s nipples. “You want your daddy’s dick that bad, then you’re going to take it all.” James, finally giving into his lust, slammed his dick back into Sarah, driving into her hole over and over again as he fired load after load into her ass. James watched as the body beneath him began to swell larger. Sarah’s traps rose higher as her neck got thicker. James watched as her arms bulged with more mass closing in on 19 inches. James could feel Sarah’s legs surge in size behind him as they slowly began crushing into his back. Sarah’s pecs ballooned even more as they filled with more muscle milk, almost making them look like breasts again. James started to become even more worried as he realized his wife was closing in on his size. James felt his wife’s ass get tighter around his dick as it grew with more muscle, pushing her up higher off the bench and taking his dick with it. While his wife was in a state of Euphoria from all the milk flooding into her pecs, he started backing up, pushing her legs back and pulling his dick out. He was finally to the very end, but his dick head was so large and her ass was so tight that it didn’t want to come out. He pulled with all of his might, until with a loud *POP* sound, his dick came out, releasing a torrent of his jizz along with it. Sarah began bucking her hips from the feeling of her husband’s massive cock head destroying her ring. Cum began flying from the tip of Sarah’s almost 9 inch dick as she moaned on the bench. James knew this was his chance. He needed to get away before his wife got any bigger. He quickly darted underneath Sarah’s thick legs and bolted for the gym entrance. James got to the front door and heard moans and what sounded like the banging of a head board form the top of the stairs. “No time to investigate, I’ve got to get to the lab and find a way to reverse this!” James snuck out of the house quietly. Leaving his hot muscular wife in his home gym and his son and that behemoth upstairs in his bedroom… Chris couldn’t get over the size of Derek. Chris straddled Derek’s torso as he slowly ran his hands along the ridges of his abdominals. Working his way up to his perky hard nipples that rested just under his bulbous rock hard pecs. His pecs were so full and thick that they jutted out almost 6 inches from his body. Chris stuck his finger in the gap between Derek’s pecs, feeling the curvature of his mountainous pecs. Chris continued his adventure of Derek’s body as his hands felt along the bowling balls of muscle Derek called his shoulders. Chris couldn’t believe how far they pushed out. His shoulders pushed so far out that he was twice as wide as Chris’s relatively athletic build. Chris traced the veins along his shoulders down to his biceps. Chris gasped when he saw just how big they had become. They were about the size of his head. They had to be closing in on 22 inches. They were truly massive. This only made Chris realize how bad he wanted Derek’s muscles all for himself. Chris knew that in order to get Derek to take the pills he was going to have to make him swallow them. “How am I going to get him to take these damn pills? He will never agree to give up his muscles.” Just like that Chris got an idea. Slowly getting off of Derek so as not to disturb him, Chris darted out of his room and into his fathers’ room across the hall. He noticed his father had left his closet light on. “Dad?! Are you still here?” Chris looked around the bedroom to see if he could see any signs of movement. He listened carefully as the house was dead quiet. Chris walked into his dad’s closet and reached onto the top shelf next to some old hiking gear as he pulled down a handful of rope. Chris walked quickly out of his father’s bedroom as his heart caught in his stomach. Down the stairs he could see his mom coming through the front door. It appears as if she had just gotten back from her jog. Chris ducked down, hoping she hadn’t seen him. “James honey, are you home?” Chris could hear his mom’s footsteps coming up the stairs. Chris didn’t believe in prayer much, but at that point he needed any kind of miracle he could get. As if it couldn’t have been better timed, a deep guttural moaning sound came from downstairs in the direction of their home gym. Chris breathing began to return to normal as he heard his mother’s footsteps retreat back down the stairs. “James is that you? CHRIST JAMES! What the hell happened to you?!?” Chris heard the gym door close and didn’t hear his father’s response. Curious, Chris began heading down the stairs to see what had startled his mother so much about his dad. “Fuck it, I will find out later. I have a body to grow.” With that said Chris turned around and headed back up the stairs with rope in hand. Chris returned to his bedroom and closed the door, making sure to not slam it, he didn’t want to awaken the muscle beast lying on his bed. Chris approached the bed and reached underneath one of Derrick’s thick hard calves. He wrapped the rope around it, making a noose and slowly tightening it. Chris lowered the first leg and repeated the process with the other. He tied the first rope holding Derek’s legs, firmly to the underside of the bed so he wouldn’t be able to kick. Next Chris used the same noose technique on Derek’s hands tightening the rope connecting them under the bed. Chris then tied a rope underneath the bed and wrapped it around underneath Derek’s bulging pecs so it would help stabilize his torso to the bed. To get the party started, Chris slapped Derek across the face. “Wakey, wakey asshole. Time to pay me back what you stole and then some.” Derek startled and sucked in air as he came to. The rope around his torso creaking as he drew in the sharp breath. Derek yanked at the line holding his hands tied together and realized he wasn’t strong enough to break free. “What the fuck do you want Chris?” Derek said in a panicked voice. “Oh you know exactly what I want, and you’re going to give it to me!” Chris reached down and began fondling Derek’s massive python. Even soft it was enough to fill both of Chris’s hands. Chris massaged Derek’s dick for a while and got no reaction. “I won’t give you what you want Chris. This is my body now. My muscles. My dick.” “You see Derek, that’s where you’re wrong. If you remember correctly, you were nothing when you came into my house and I was everything. I was a god. Now I’m going to take my god status back whether you are going to comply or not.” Chris jumped off the bed and walked into his bathroom. “How did he regain that size? He looks as big as I did before I stole his muscles.” Derek wondered out loud as Chris returned with a bottle in his hand. He set the bottle on his night stand next to Derek’s head. Chris then picked a bottle up off the floor, Derek instantly recognized the bottle. Chris popped the lid off, dropping a black pill into his hand. “Let’s see, I took this last time and lost everything. So now if you take it, I will gain everything back.” “Chris, you don’t have to do this! Look how good you look now! With a little time in the gym you could be back to your old size in no time.” Derek pleaded as Chris straddled Derek’s torso again. Chris leaned forward with the pill in his hand as he tried to push it into Derek’s mouth. “See that’s the thing Derek, why work hard for something when I can just have it now pain free?” With that Chris swung his fist into Derek’s nose, breaking it and causing blood to gush out. “AHHHH------mffffffmmm” Derek had begun to scream when Chris shaved his hand over Derek’s mouth. Derek barely felt the pills drop into his mouth as he began to run out of air. His nose was bleeding so much he couldn’t breathe through it. He had no choice but to swallow if he wanted to live. Derek swallowed the pills as tears began rolling down the side of his cheeks. Knowing he had sealed his fate and that Chris would soon take everything back. Chris reached his hand up and wiped away Derek’s tears. “Don’t worry Derek, from here on out I promise it will be quick and painless.” Derek jerked his head away from Chris’s hand. “Well, if it’s going to be like that. I was going to let you keep some of your size, but I think I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll drain you till you’re hotter than Stacy.” On cue Derek felt his massive dick begin to pulse to life. He could feel each heartbeat throb through the entire length as it thickened and elongated, quickly arching its way up Chris’s back. “How the fuck am I hard?!?” Chris got a slight grin to his face, “Well, back before I started taking my father’s experimental drugs, I took a lot of steroids and I had no clue what I was doing. Let’s just say a heavy dose of testosterone with no p.c.t. left my balls and libido empty. So I got a prescription to Cialis. So you shouldn’t have a ‘hard’ time with getting an erection tonight.” Chris began laughing at his own joke as he reached behind him and began stroking the throbbing monster of a dick that Derrick possessed. Derek threw his head back and began moaning as Chris continued stroking his dick. “I think I want my dick in that hat tight ass of yours so you can feel what it’s like to be dominated by a real man. I want you to feel me inside you as I grow to mythical proportions.” As Chris was saying this he reached for the bottle on the night stand, clearly labeled Cialis. “You’ve had your medicine, time for mine.” Chris popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed. Chris wiggled himself backwards along Derek’s dick, until he was almost past Derek’s knees when his dick finally sprang up and smacked into his thick pecs. Pre-cum flew everywhere when his dick smacked his chest, giving his chest a nice shiny sheen. Chris reached forward, leaning against Derek’s dick as he massaged the pre-cum into Derek’s pecs making them look like they had just been oiled. Chris slid his hands over to Derek’s massive orb like biceps and began groping them. As he did, Derek couldn’t help himself but give them a flex to see how big they were. He could only lift his arm so far until his restraints brought him back to reality. Chris let out a slight moan feeling the bicep push his hand apart. Although Chris hadn’t moved, Derek could feel Chris’s bulbous Dick head pushing against his ass cheeks. Derek’s dick throbbed at the thought of being penetrated by the high school quarterback. A huge glob of pre-cum oozed out of his dick head and into the valley of his pecs. Without missing a beat, Chris leaned in and sucked up all the pre from the cleft between Derek’s pecs. The sound of slurping coming from Chris made Derek mad at the thought that he almost wanted Chris to grow larger. Derek knew that was the Cialis talking, it was making him so horny it was hard to think straight. Derek didn’t have to wait much longer as he could feel Chris’s body weight slightly increasing on top of his own. He felt his own back slowly slide across the sheets, but only a little. What really made Derek pay notice was that Chris’s dick was sliding past his ass cheeks and pushing at his hole. Derek could feel pre leaking out of Chris’s dick, making his hole slick and ready to be entered. Derek moaned again as he could feel his heartbeat pulse through the length of his entire dick which was almost a ridiculous two feet in length. Chris wrapped his mouth over the head of Derek’s dick this time as he was rewarded with another glob of pre-cum. Again Derek could feel Chris’s weight increase just slightly and he felt his own slightly diminish, but the cherry on top was the fact that Chris’s dick pulsed at his ass hole as it pushed right in with a pop as the head of his dick began to pulse inside his ass. That was all it took for Derek, his breathing quickened as the ropes holding his torso creaked and whined as he forced his hips up off the bed. Chris felt it right as Derek’s cock head throbbed in his mouth Chris could feel Derek’s balls pull up tight in his scrotum as he began to unleash his torrent of cream into the back of Chris’s throat. Chris could feel Derek shrinking smaller as each pulse of cum shot down his throat, filling him with a warm energy that couldn’t be explained. Derek’s dick got easier to fit in his mouth as it shrank down to a more manageable 18 inches. Before he forgot, Chris grabbed another pill and quickly shoved it into Derek’s mouth. Derek, having accepted his fate, swallowed, not wanting to anger the growing beast on top of him. Derek instantly began to moan into Chris’s hand as he could feel Chris’s rigid cock unreel further inside his ass, pushing his ass hole wider as Chris’s already impressive eight incher grew into a thick veiny foot long schlong. “Fuck Yeah! This feels incredible!” Chris in a state of euphoric bliss, began bouncing his pecs as they filled with more muscle. Pushing his already swollen nipples further down his burgeoning meat pillows. Chris reached up and tweaked his nipples and Derek watched as Chris’s arms throbbed thicker and thicker, veins exploding all over the orb of muscle that was beginning to amass on his upper arm. Chris pulled down on his nipples as he felt his ass and legs inflate with more muscle. With his rock hard ass, Chris pushed his hips forward, driving his throbbing dick further into Derek’s ass. As if on cue Derek began moaning as Chris continued to push his dick in to Derek’s hungry hole. “Yeah! You like that you little bitch?” Chris asked with an evil smirk on his face. Even though Derek still had some size on Chris, it wouldn’t take long to even the playing field. Wanting to speed up the process, Chris buried his thick cock to the hilt and simultaneously dove onto Derek’s still hard and throbbing dick. “HOLY FUCK! FUCK ME!” Derek couldn’t hold back as he felt his second orgasm rush up the length of his dick. Chris, already there to collect his sweet bounty began guzzling down cum. Surprised at how much shot out this time, Chris pulled off to catch his breath, allowing cum to shoot up onto Derek’s pecs. Chris swallowed Derek’s cock head back into his mouth to catch the rest of the precious seed that Derek’s dick had to offer. Derek felt his back slide against the sheets as he grew smaller. His once pro IFBB body was slowly getting smaller until finally it stopped. He was now close to the size of an amateur bodybuilder. Derek’s once magnificent arms were now about 18 inches. Still impressive by any standard, but not as big as he liked. What pulled Derek out of his inventory of his own body was the fact that he could now see over his diminished pecs, and what he saw before him was amazing. Before Derek was a true Adonis, a god if you will. Chris had the body of a Greek god as he continued to swell larger. Chris was getting off on his own body as it glistened with sweat. His abs undulated as an 8th row began to form. The sweat ran down from his bulging traps over his boulder like pecs and then dripped off his nipple onto his turgid cock that was inflating inside Derek’s ass even more. Derek moaned as he watched Chris pull an arm up and flex. Derek watched as the peak went from 21 inches to 22 inches. “FUCK YEAH! LOOK AT THEM GROWING EVEN LARGER!!!” It was too much for Chris as he began shooting his load into Derek’s ass, filling it with his seed. Chris flexed his whole upper body in a most muscular. Derek could feel himself on the edge of another orgasm already. Sensing this, Chris grabbed another black pill and brought it up to Derek’s mouth. “Is that really necessary Chris? You’re already massive. Please let me keep what I have left!” Derek pleaded as tears began to build up in his eyes. Chris pushed the pill against Derek’s lips, but he refused to open. ***CRACK*** Chris back handed Derek across the face “MOTHER FUCKER DID I ASK YOU TO TAKE IT? I’M TELLING YOU TO TAKE IT, NOW OPEN YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!!!” Chris’s neck bulged with veins as a new hunger took hold of him. Derek could see it in Chris’s eyes and now feared for his life. With tears streaming down his cheeks again, Derek opened his mouth and accepted the pill from Chris. Chris instantly began sucking Derek’s dick again. Harder and faster than ever before. Derek had to think of something and fast before it was too late. Derek began wiggling his arms and realized that his right arms restraint had become loose, but it wasn’t loose enough to get his arm free. With Derek’s dick in his mouth, Chris began fucking Derek’s ass hard and fast. Derek’s eye’s rolled back into his head as he felt his orgasm near, but did his best to hold it off so he could think up a plan of escape. Chris began getting impatient, so he reached his hand down and wrapped it around Derek’s scrotum. Testicles still the size of baseballs, Chris began to squeeze hard. Derek instantly began shooting his pent up load in a combination of pain and pleasure. Chris unknowingly began squeezing harder as Derek’s sperm caused a spike in his strength. Derek in serious pain now, reached his hand down and grabbed hold of Chris’s wrist to try and get him to let go. As Derek’s hand tugged on Chris’s wrist, they both realized at the same time that Derek’s hand was free. Chris, still sucking on Derek’s dick tried to grab for his free hand as Derek reached for the lamp on the bed side table. Derek grasped the lamp and swung it at Chris’s head causing it to shatter and blind Chris. “FUCKING FUCK!” Chris pulled off of Derek’s dick as he yelled in pain as the shattered glass momentarily blinded him. Chris reached his hands up to shield his eyes, when he did Derek reached up and punched Chris in the scrotum. Chris fell back in pain as one hand covered his eyes and the other grabbed onto his balls. As Chris fell back his gargantuan dick popped out of Derek’s ass along with all of the jizz that had built up inside from his ejaculations. As the last of his cum dribbled from his dick, Derek reached over and untied his other arm. Then he slid under the ropes, once tight around his torso, now clung loosely to him. Derek looked over at Chris who had fallen to the floor in his painful agony, as he hurriedly untied his ankles form the restraints. Derek was mesmerized as he watched Chris stand back up to his full height. He towered over the bed and the truly scary thing was, he was still growing from his last feeding. Derek was in awe as Chris’s dick throbbed even larger in front of him. Still unable to see, Chris began groping around trying to feel for the bed. Chris’s hand finally found the edge of the bed as his growth came to a halt. He had grown far beyond what Derek once possessed. Standing in front of Derek was a man that could win any professional bodybuilding show, no one could come close. His arms were at least 25 inches now as thick veins snaked their way down to forearms that were the size of Derek’s newly diminished arms. Chris’s pecs were so grotesquely massive that his nipples had all but disappeared from view beneath their hard veiny mass. His legs were a whole other story as they were bigger around than his waist. They had to be close to 40 inches. They were ripped and striated and they bulged as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he got closer to the bed. Not realizing how close Chris really was, Derek felt something brush against his leg. Derek was quickly jerked across the bed by an unbelievable force. “I’m GONNA KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!” Chris grabbed Derek by the throat and pinned him to the bed. Derek could feel Chris’s grip grow tighter around his neck as his vision began to blur. Derek began flailing and as he did his hand caught something. It was a bottle of pills. He sent them flying off the bed and into the wall across the room. Chris turned towards the sound still unable to see, Derek took this opportunity as the last of his consciousness slowly faded, he swung his leg up with all his might and connected his shin right into Chris’s right testicle. Derek heard a pop sound as Chris fell down to his knees using both hands to grasp his damaged testicle. Derek gasped from breath, consciousness quickly returning as air filled his lungs again. He realized it hurt to breath, but Derek had no time to think about that at the moment. Right now Derek knew he needed to get the hell out of there. Derek jumped off the bed and ran for the door, but before he left he remembered the bottle of pills that hit the wall. Derek turned and quickly surveyed the room finding the open bottle with pills scattered across the carpet. Derek rushed to the bottle and began dropping pills back into the bottle. Satisfied he had got them all, Derek stood up just as Chris lunged in his direction. Derek dodged Chris as he ran head first into the wall, knocking him out cold. Derek sprinted out the door as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt he had found on the desk as he exited the room. Derek shoved the bottle of pills in his pocket and took off down the stairs and out the door as he heard an unfamiliar manly voice from somewhere in the house. “Christopher honey is that you?”
  20. Hey guys here is part three of A College Weight Room Story: The Path to Gains. Here is the link to part two. https://muscle-growth.org/topic/8710-a-college-weight-room-story-the-path-to-gains%C2%A0/#comment-89862 Enjoy! A College Weight Room Story: The Path to Gains Part 3 Outside. Tuesday Morning. Cardio and Abs Day: I wake up to my phones alarm at 8:45. I grab it from underneath my pillow and turn the alarm off. There’s a text from Troy. Troy: Morning bro. I’ll be at your front door a couple minutes before 9. Be prepared. It’s a nice day out. I jump out of bed and take off my clothes; my roommate has left for his early class so I have the freedom to walk around my room naked. I go into my bottom dresser drawer where I keep all of my gym gear and throw on a pair of black compression pants and a blue stringer tank top. Then I grab some black gym shorts and drag them over the compression pants. It would feel weird running in just the compression pants themselves. I can’t have the imprint of my dick visible for the whole campus to see. Before I leave my room, I look into the mirror. Perfect, the stringer hangs low enough to keep my pecs visible. The juicy round globes burst through the stringer and I’m not even pumped. Next, I grab a small bag and fill it with spare clothes and put it on my back, then I go downstairs and head for the front door. I check my phone as I open the door and I see Troy has texted me again. He’s already outside. I go out and he’s standing in my driveway wearing a fitted grey shirt and a pair of fitted bright yellow compression shorts that show a clear imprint of his heavy cock and balls. What… how… why is he wearing that outside? I can’t believe my eyes. He wears the shorts as if showing off his junk is a normal part of his day and I try not to look down at his cock. I gather my thoughts and try to behave normally. “You got here fast,” I say. “I woke up early and I was so pumped that I had to get here!” “Let’s do this then!” I reply excitedly. I really want him to turn around so my eyes stop wandering to forbidden places. “Yeah, let’s go!” he says and immediately turns around and breaks into a run. I start running and follow closely behind. Oh shit, now I have his tight ass to look at. Squats have really been doing him justice. I can see each ripple of his chiseled glutes through the yellow shorts. I try to focus on something else and I raise my eyes to his back. I can see his mountainous traps poking through the tight grey shirt, riding their way up his thick neck and I crave traps of that size. I need to have traps that huge. I notice darker spots appearing on his shirt and he begins to slow down to an eventual stop. “That’s one mile down,” he says. “One more to go.” He then strips off his shirt, revealing his solid abs and finely haired chest. He has a little happy trail that doesn’t take away from the marvel, but increases it. It makes him seem manlier. He turns and run again. I try to focus on other things as we run: the science buildings, the freshman dorms, the trees, the nice 70 degree weather, but his recent shirtlessness has all of my attention. I stare at every inch of his back as we run. His entire back seems to be flexed as he runs and I wish I could stand and punch it repeatedly to feel the power I know it holds. We stop in front of my house again after two miles and I am beat. “Alright,” I say between breaths. “That wasn’t so bad. Now I need to go to the gym and work on abs.” “Abs?” he asks. “I actually need to work my abs, bro. Can I come with?” “Hell yeah, bro! Why not?” We walk to the gym from my house. Troy puts his grey shirt back on and a little bit of my anxiety shrinks. I was starting to lose it from seeing him shirtless. It’s a short walk; takes less than 2 minutes. We show the desk worker our ID’s and head into the weight room. “So what do you usually do for abs?” Troy asks. “I start off with weighted ab crunches,” I say as I walk over to the weight rack and grab a 45 pound plate. “Ready, bro?” “Wow man, that’s a lot of weight. How many reps do you do?” “40.” “Jeeze.” He looks nervously at me. “I’ll try.” My world suddenly stops for 2.5 seconds. Did he just say he will try? I think I may have just found his weakness…Abs. He grabs a 45 pound plate and we make our way over to the floor mats. We both lay on a mat and begin doing crunches. Troy seems fine in the beginning, but he begins to slow down. He stops at around 26 reps, but I keep pushing. He looks over at me as he lies on his back with eyes that subtly hint at jealousy. “Damn Von, your abs are stronger than mine!” I push to 40 and then lay back, breathing heavily. “I know you have 3 more sets in you,” I say. His eyes basically pop out of his face when I say this. I smile cockily at him. I seem to have a lot of control in this situation and I have to keep myself from laughing. “Um...Maybe you have 3 more sets of 40. I’ll go for 20.” “Haha ok man.” I am awestruck that I finally found something I am better at. We finish our sets and move on to doing ball crunches, then hanging leg raises, then Russian twists. Our abs are burnt out so we head to the locker room, grabbing towels from the front desk on our way over. He walks into the restroom first and I take a leak. Troy takes his shirt back off and begins to flex his abs in the mirror. I finish peeing and walk over to the mirror. I take off my shirt and start flexing my abs too. Troy can't be the only one to put on a show. “Your abs are getting solid, bro,” he says. “Thanks man, you aren’t too bad yourself.” His abs are red and twitching beneath his skin. My hands are twitching to punch those muscles, to feel the solid impact, but I’m too nervous to ask. “Alright, I need to get clean. It’s shower time!” he says. He walks into the locker room and I follow behind him. He goes to a locker and removes his clothes for the day. I set my little bag down on a bench and take off my shorts, leaving on the compression pants. I look up and my body stalls. Troy is standing with his back towards me with his hard, chiseled ass out in the open. His ass is as white as the moon and his huge round cheeks look strong enough to crush bricks between them. I stand there with my compression shorts still on and he turns around. “Aren’t you gonna shower?” he asks. Troy is standing in front of me completely nude with just a hand covering his cock. “Yeah… I’m just… I’ve never seen anyone get naked in here before.” “What?! That’s what locker rooms are for!” he replies, both hand waving in the air, revealing his flaccid 5 inch meat. “The locker room is a safe place to be naked and enjoy it and the best part is that people can admire your body and you can admire theirs without any consequences.” He starts flexing both biceps as if he is being watched by anyone other than me; his cock is swinging between his legs mercilessly. He turns around and does a double bicep back pose, extending one of his legs and revealing his heavy balls between the cracks of his thighs. He turns around and I look back at him awkwardly. I notice that his cock is starting to get a little hard and he knows it too, his hand makes his way down and he starts to stroke it. “Let me help you, bro,” he says.” He walks forward, still semi-hard, gets down on one knee and grabs the band of my compression pants, ripping them down and revealing my 4 inch, flaccid, black cock and ass for anyone to walk in and see. His head is extremely close to my cock and I am paralyzed with fear. He looks down at my dick as if it was a normal part of his day and gets back up, turns around and walks to the shower. “Let’s go, man.” I follow behind him and he stops at the first shower. I go to the second, but barely make it past him before he slaps me on the ass. HARD! The sound resonates in the shower area and I jump a little. “Damn, bro. Those squats are doing you justice.” “Thanks,” I say and chuckle nervously. “Same to you man.” “You haven’t felt these beauties man. Give them a good squeeze.” He turns his back to me, his ass waiting to be worshipped. He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grab both of his ass cheeks and give them a hard squeeze. They feel like rocks in my hands. “Fuck,” I say. He begins to clench his cheeks and I feel so much power in my hands. It is getting harder for me to breath and I start to get hard from his clenching, so I let go. “Alright,” I say. “Shower time.” I walk into my shower and he goes into his. I hear his curtain close and his water turn on through the thin shower wall and I start to relax. I turn on my water and I make it extra hot. That was close. I feel the water rush over me and I start to breathe normally again. I desperately need to cum but I will save it for later. After two minutes, I hear something from Troy’s shower that sounds an awful lot like moaning. “Troy, you ok over there?” Uhh…I’m gonna be honest with you because you’re my bro. It’s been a while since I had sex with my girlfriend.” “So that means you’re— “Spanking the monkey, chocking the chicken, beating my meat, yup!” I can’t believe it. I’m in total shock. “Oh…” “Hey man, there’s nothing better than a good orgasm after a workout. Get hard and try it out!” He didn’t have to tell me twice, I was already hard and hearing him moan through the thin shower wall turned me on. “I always like feeling my pecs and nips when I jerk it. It makes my cock drip so much,” he says over the rush of the water. I begin to stroke my cock and then I hear his moaning. I begin to go faster and he gets louder. I start to moan and he hears. “There you go bro! That’s good shit right there. Fucking bust your nuts all over these walls.” I completely lose it at his words and blow all over the place. I moan in complete ecstasy and I hear him huffing and grunting as his wad shoots from his unseen hard cock. “Ugh..fuck!” he say. “I really needed that,” “Me too” “Well it was nice to do it in your company man.” We both finish showering and walk out of the showers, still naked but not awkward anymore. We walk to our clothes and as we get dressed, I see that his cock is still red and semi-hard from the tugging. “We should shower next to each other more often. It’s way more fun!” Troy says. I’m a little thrown off by what he says but I keep it together. “Haha yeah. Sure man.” “So see ya for leg day tomorrow?” “Yeah, for sure.” We are fully dressed by this point and walk out of the gym. Troy and I leave the gym and he fist-bumps me before we go our separate ways. There are so many questions in my mind. I know Troy is straight. He has never shown any sign of curiosity. He has a girlfriend, but why aren’t they having sex? I’m turned on by Troy, but only because he’s a strong alpha and I admire that. I admire how competitive he is and how he pushes me to be stronger. I know that I’m not feeling love for him, but today was strange. He’s never been this close to me before. He literally stripped me down today. Something is changing in Troy and I think I’ll start pushing him a bit to see what will happen. I know just how to push too… Wrestling.
  21. arbotimus

    The Iron Bug - Part III

    Partly inspired by true events : P Part I Part II Part III – All The Way It was hard to consolidate beauty as I knew it before with the erotic sensations that were now constant and overwhelming. The sun shot red rays across the sky in protest of the coming night, and the trees watched silently, their leaves soaking up the last of the usually sporadic sunlight. I felt the pump in my arms, fibers straining against the weight. Normally I would take solace in the calmness of the twilight, in the gentle passage of time between phases of the day. But fuck, I was huge. It was hard to focus on anything else. The tree branch began to bend as I lifted myself up towards the sky. It wasn’t iron, but it would have to do. It was easy. With just a simple flex my will was transformed into action. Nothing could stop me. I rested my chin on the bending branch. The sun set. I had grown twice since last night. I didn’t have the desire for anything else. I worked out upon waking up and then again after I ate and rested. I bought new clothes in the interim too. The others fit me way too tightly, making it almost uncomfortable to breathe. Every motion was exaggerated by the fabric stretching against my hardened stature. Although by now I didn’t really care. I was out here without a shirt on. People could look at me if they wanted to. I was going to be gone soon, and they would not recognize me except for my hair. I lifted my chin from the branch and started to let myself down slowly. My bare feet descended to the grass, toes touching first and then heels falling softly. I couldn’t help but flex each of my swollen muscles, starting with my calves. The impressive cliff they formed created a shadow even in the fading light. Next it was quads. Big, bloated, and cut to the nines, they strained my already exasperated shorts. And I didn’t even have to flex them very hard. It didn’t help that my glutes stole most of the fabric, forming firm, round globes that eclipsed my lower legs. I ran my hands up and across my abs, each brick bringing my erection to greater attention, and finished with a double bi pose. That one was my favorite. It put the power that lay just beneath those titanic arms on display so effortlessly. My dick now rose to full mast, my shorts struggling to hold together. It felt good to be a man. I went back inside to the guy I had just fucked. He was tight, wiry, but nothing like me. He was face down, ass up. The smell of the candle I had left burning mixed with the smell of his skin as I ran my tongue down his back and up to his neck. I turned him around to face me and folded my legs on each side of him so that I sat comfortably on his abs. I let my body linger there, imposing, towering over his. My pecs hung heavy in the bottom frame of my vision. I bounced them, just because I could. I looked straight into his eyes, almond-colored, framed by long, dark, curly hair. I loved the way he tried to move but could not make much of an impression. He blushed a little bit. He almost reminded me of myself a few days ago. What a different life that was. I moved closer and kissed him, gently. I could feel his body tense with pleasure under me. “Where’s your shirt?” I asked. “On the side of the bed,” he said. I casually reached for it and felt how light and small it was in my hands. “Do you mind if I try it on?” I said. He nodded, trying to maintain his composure and pretend this was a normal request. He was doing a subpar job of it. Who could blame him? I knew I had picked a good one. A muscle junkie through and through. And here I was to provide the fix. I lifted it over my head and from the very start I could feel how little of my body was going to squeeze into this tiny polo. By the time my arm reached the sleeve I got stuck. I fumbled awkwardly for a minute, wrestling this puny piece of fabric over my muscular frame. He giggled, and I allowed it. Finally I was pulling it down over my abs. The fabric wrapped up each ab individually, like they had been covered in cellophane. I ran my hand over it just to feel how tight I stretched the fabric. I noticed as I looked down that the buttons sat undone and my upper chest was popping through. I motioned to button them up, but there was obviously no way that they were going to come together. I smiled down at him. “You’ve gotta catch up, dude. I can’t even button up your shirt.” Throb, pulse. I lifted up my arms almost in auto-pilot. I heard a tear. Fuck, if I wasn’t hard already. His dick responded too, jolting on the crevice of my ass. I felt around to know what part of the shirt had torn. It was the underside of the seam where the sleeve meets the body. “I’ll lend you one of mine,” I said, unapologetically. I left out that most of my shirts had succumb to a similar fate when I had tried to find just one that fit my massive frame. I tried as hard as I could to split the shirt around the bicep. I wasn’t quite big enough yet. But I would be. It was only a matter of time. Damn stretchy fabric. But fuck if I didn’t look good filling them up. Every last inch of it. Approaching eighteen, last I had counted. With that, the show was over. I lifted the shirt off, this time with care to avoid the clumsy nature of its donning. More tears, here and there. I didn’t bother to avoid making them, it didn’t matter anymore. I got off of him and lifted him up, putting my arms under his knees and grabbing his torso. His arms clasped about my neck, hands reaching down my back. His hands were soft, and I could feel them navigate over the muscles in my back, exploring every bulge, solid, strong. I sat on the edge of the bed, my arms the only thing preventing him falling from the ground. I kissed him, in reassurance that I was not going to drop him. His cock pressed against the tight, warm flesh of my abs, and his hands migrated over to my pecs, circling my nipples with his fingers. That sensation was more erogenous than I expected, and I almost let him slip. His body falling away from mine startled me, and I pulled him close again. I took my cock, throbbing and begging for release, and pressed it right up against his hole. Pre smeared across it, and I started stroking up and down. I wanted release. I grabbed him tighter and began to lift his ass up and down across my cock, my arms getting tired and swollen and all the more pumped as I kept using him like he was a fleshjack. Before I knew it I was already about to cum. I lifted him a little bit higher and brought my cock between us, cum spurting onto my chest and up to his chin. “Now it’s your…” I touched his dick and within a few seconds he was gone. His cum only managed to splash up against my abs, but it was appreciated nonetheless. I couldn’t help but grin as his face was lost in the ecstasy of orgasm. I stood up, holding him, and walked over to my dresser. I set him on top and pulled out a shirt, handing it to him with a towel. “That’s for you.” I gave one of those cheesy jock-like winks, and turned around to head to the bathroom. I could feel his glare as my solid, round cheeks fell up and down with my stride. I gave them a good flex (and threw in some calves too) before I left his view. It was time for a run. -- An hour later I was outside. The night air brushed against my skin, my entire torso free and exposed. Darkness was my only company for most of the path until I reached the more suburban part of town. I was alone even though my path was now lit. Hardly anyone roamed about at this hour, and they wouldn’t have recognized me. But I wanted them to see anyways. To recognize me for what I had become. My footsteps fell heavy on the ground and made echoes on the still houses, but I was hardly any slower than before. It wasn’t long before I made it to Charlie’s place. I stopped under a streetlamp, the light reflecting the prodigious results of my transformation. He was in his garage, working on some old beat up truck that looked like it was from the 1950s. No one else seemed to be home. Despite the noisy footfall, he failed to notice me. I watched him for a moment. His skin was dark under the fluorescent bulb hanging over him, his back solid and clinging tightly to his wife beater. Every motion showed a muscle working, displayed the effortlessness that he carried himself with. He pulled what must have been the oil dipstick out of its place, and the various muscles in his arms flexed to form dark shadows beneath them. I felt a flush of embarrassment that I did not think I would ever feel again. “Hey,” I barked clumsily. He paused for a moment and wiped his hands before he turned around. He stared directly at me for a moment, the radiant jade of his eyes investigating my presence. His brow folded in the slightest confusion, as if he were trying to decipher someone’s face in an old photograph. And then he smiled. Teeth white as an ivory tomb. “Sup, little man.” Shit, he beat me to it. Did he recognize me? Or did he say that to everyone who passed by? Now that his initial confusion had passed, there was no hint of alarm or concern on his face. I started walking towards him, trying not to let my confidence falter as I stepped out of the streetlamp’s light. I tried to convince myself there was no reason to let my conviction falter. By now I must have been bigger than he was. Stronger. Nonetheless, he didn’t flinch. Neither his stance nor his expression wavered at my approach. And then we were face to face. He leaned on the grill of his car, relaxed. “What brings you around here?” he said casually. I didn’t really know. “Just out for a run,” was what came out of my mouth. “You seem to have been through a lot in the past few days,” he said. He lifted his arm, and without thinking I grabbed it. He did not seem to mind; if anything, he was amused. I held my hand still too, at first. His calm demeanor startled me. I just needed to break his confidence; I had to make him know just how much stronger I was. I pushed, and he gave just a little. The thick bellies of my triceps knotted and I could see his forearm tighten up and strain against the force of my powerful arm, the thick calluses on my hands rubbing rough against his soft skin. Still, forcing his arm back was more difficult than I anticipated. I was winning, but just barely. Meanwhile I could feel the blood rush to my cock even though I was using all of my strength. “Say uncle,” I said. I wanted him to admit it. Without changing his expression, he opened his mouth and his face leaned in towards mine. I almost expected a kiss. Instead I heard music. Even though it must have come from him, it sounded rich and deep as though it were another person’s voice. It resonated all around me like a bell, sonorous and pure despite its depth. Between long notes, the melody rang with strange sounds that were akin to words that I did not recognize. All of my anxiety and rivalry faded as the strange tune resounded in my ears. My vision started to become hazy. His golden arms blurred into the fluorescent lit background, his soft lips disappearing as everything began to go dark. I felt my head fall on his chest. It hummed with the bell’s tune. I could not stay awake any longer. -- I awoke as the sun was rising. My head was still foggy, but not unpleasantly so, as I lifted out of my near comatose state. My body was similarly sluggish and numb. I felt clumsy as I attempted to orchestrate my way off the ground, feet stumbling in the grass. I also discovered a ringing in my ears, but low and distant-sounding. It faded slowly as clarity came back to me, my body regaining its composure. Beams of sunlight loftily fell through the morning fog and landed on my silken skin. I had not changed. I gave my pecs a quick bounce just to be sure. Still massive. Memories came back from last night slowly and sporadically, like mud through a sieve. The details were mostly unclear, but my awakening here on the ground meant that I had lost. Despite all of the changes I had gone through, Charlie was still stronger than me. My heart fell into my chest, full of anguish. I could not even remember how he managed to subdue me. But I had an idea on how to fix that. I reached into my pocket to find my car keys. There was a note inside. It said: “Next time, make a better wish.” Whatever that meant. I was fortunate enough to see Delilah’s car leave as I turned the corner on her street. I didn’t know how to explain to her what had happened or my plan, and I wasn’t about to be talked out of it. I parked at the end of the block and walked as casually as I could feign up to her doorstep. The tacky porcelain frog that stood out harshly from the otherwise bare porch revealed her spare keys. Luckily, they held one that opened her basement. I threw it into the grass, not taking the time to remark how light it was for me now. The basement was even more cluttered than the last time I had been inside. Old musty books full of pseudoscientific literature and what looked like very serious scholarly articles littered the tables and floor. Clearly Delilah had devoted most of her free time to discovering what they were and how to make sure they didn’t kick the bucket in her care. However she did it, it was working; they seemed just as irreverent and indignant as ever. My arrival only seemed to encourage their frenzied buzzing. Inside the dull plastic box, she had left a small bag of blood as their only company. An iron meal for an iron bug. I paused for a moment. No, this was what I wanted. The risks were irrelevant. I needed to get bigger. Bigger than him. Bigger than anyone. That was all that mattered. I cautiously opened the container and slid my hand quickly over the opening as I removed the lid. It was almost instant, the sting. My hand clenched; fuck, it hurt. But unlike our first encounter, it remained stuck in my skin. I could feel it. A warm, almost hot sensation emanated from the sting. Like a hot summer day running through my blood, up my beefy arms and into the rest of my formidable body. It flowed through me, saturating me with whatever chemical or enzyme or magic flowed from its metallic proboscis. It felt as though I was going through the most intense workout I ever had while standing completely still. It was completing me. I was strong, alive, vibrant, unstoppable. Eventually the iron bug dropped from my hand, satiated. It scuttled away lazily, finally ending its fervent rampage against its impregnable prison. It seemed to shine crimson beneath its metallic sheen. I slid the lid back on, careful not to let out the other bug that was still madly trying to escape. Attempting to head towards the exit, I found myself dizzy with euphoria and my body was somewhat difficult to move. My flesh felt hard to the touch, like an insane pump from a non-existent workout. My blood was still warm, marked by a pleasant tingling. I don’t really remember getting back to my house. I only remember putting the keys back under the frog and somehow finding myself lying under the sheets in my bed, wrapped up like a cocoon. My blood was still warm, and the muscles beneath my skin were unbelievably tense, pumped, and changing into something even harder. My cock matched them in turgor, fighting for attention. But I was too busy wrapped up in the novel sensations to pay it any attention. Soon the heat began to make me dizzy, and I started to drift off. My eyes shut. I smiled. It worked. I couldn’t wait to find out what I had done. Part IV
  22. Newmassaddict

    Growth Part 13

    Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE Part 8 HERE Part 9 & 10 HERE Part 11 HERE Part 12 HERE 13 I woke up the sounds of what sounded like tearing flesh. I shook my head and my vision slowly came back. Across the room, Matt was hunched over a table full of food. With his bare hands, he was stuffing large pieces of meat into his mouth. He grabbed a carton of milk and started to chug it. Milk ran down his chin and puddled on the floor. He dumped numerous scoops of protein powder into a open jug of water and started to drink that too. Before he swallowed his other hand grabbed more meat. I watched in awe for minutes as he devoured massive amounts of food. When I was finally able to break my gaze I realized I was tied to a metal post, unable to move. “Be with you in a moment” Matt said with a mouth full of food. He never looked up, he just kept eating. After another 10 minutes he finally pushed the table back and stood up. Food and liquid covered his swollen chest. He wiped his face with his vein engorged forearm and patted his distended stomach. He was only wearing tight underwear and the sight of his body made me stifle a gag. He looked MASSIVE. Whether it was the battle we had just had or the copious about of food he just ingested; he looked twice as big as he had in the alley. He let out a loud burp and ran his hand over his bloated stomach. “Fuck that was good. I needed to replenish my calories after kicking your muscled ass” “Untie me you little fuck!” I screamed. Matt just laughed and stepped closer. He leaned down and slowly hit a most muscular pose. His extreme conditioning and deep striations reached new levels as his entire body inflated before my eyes. “We aren’t done yet Dave. So you better get conformable. You aren’t going anywhere.” Matt said and slowly waddled across the room. I repositioned myself and suddenly realized I was tied to a pole in what looked like an old warehouse. One side was a crudely constructed apartment while the other side was a massive gym. Stacks of weights and massive machines covered every inch. At the far end of the room a large garage door opened. The sun was coming up so all I could see was the silhouette of a person walking inside. As my eyes focused on the shape my eyes widened. Slowly moving towards me was the largest man I had even seen. Wearing only a pair of tight boxer briefs he approached. His legs were so immense that he didn’t even waddle. Each quad had to swing around the other causing him to sway back and forth. He wasn’t flexing his chest but each overinflated pec pressed against his thick, square chin. Even with such massive pecs his lats were still visible from the front. They protruded an additional two feet from his sides like two outrageously muscled wings and pressed his inhumanly massive arms and shoulders to rest at nearly 90 degrees from his body. Even in my wildest imagination I never imagined such a massive beast of a man could exist. “I see our guest is awake” Clint said as he approached. “Wh-who the f-fuck are you?” I stammered. Clint stopped a few feet from me and started to inflate his enormous body. He easily dwarfed every professional bodybuilder I had even seen. His body expanded into a mind-boggling network of the thickest, most striated network of overly developed muscle I had even laid eyes on. Matt stood next to Clint and for the first time; looked small and weak. “He’s 52 years old and at 5’7” he weighs 395lbs.” Matt said, caressing Clint’s flexed body. “400lb as of this morning kid” Clint said with a wide grin. “FUCK YEAH!” yelled Matt. “That’s not possible! How…?” I said in disbelief. Clint took a step closer and hit a most muscular pose. His already inflated body contorted and increased in size. My brain couldn’t comprehend the sight. I ejaculated in my shorts and fainted. I woke minutes later to the sounds of metal clanking. I opened my eyes and saw Clint and Matt at the squat rack. Matt had just racked a sizeable weight and stumbled out of the cage. His massive quads were purple with pump and looked absolutely huge. He leaned against the wall and started to pound his dense quads muscles with his fists. “Not big enough! Need to grow these babies.” He repeated. Clint smiled and positioned himself under the heavy weight. With seemly no effort; he lifted the weight and started to squat. I looked on in awe. Clint’s enormous quads powered the weight up and down with mechanical precession. His massive legs were overshadowed however by his immense glutes. Each ass cheek resembled a overinflated beach ball. After well over 20 reps he racked the weight and stepped out of the cage and walked towards me. “Good, you’re up. Give him a good show Matt” He said and added two more plates to either side of the bar. Matt slapped his face hard and positioned himself under the bar. When he lifted it off the supports, it sagged in the middle. Matt then proceeded to preform textbook prefect squats with the huge weight. With each rep, his granite hard ass came inches above the ground before powering the bar back up. At eight reps his rhythm started to slow down. “Don’t stop Matt! Think about how you beat the shit out of this huge freak!” Clint yelled. Matt let out a savage scream and quickened his pace. He managed 17 reps before racking the weight and collapsing on the floor. “This kid is fucking animal.” Clint said with pride. He walked over to me and untied the ropes holding my hands. I immediately got to my feet. “Don’t even think about trying to go anywhere.” Clint said and picked up a 45lb plate. He swung his huge body and launched the weight at the wall. The plate hit the cement wall so hard it embedded itself a foot deep. “Besides, I know you want to tear this kid apart for what he did to you but I think you’d rather just stay here and get the best pump of your life.” I stood in shock. Clint was right; I had been hurt and humiliated by Matt. I should have wanted to pound him to a bloody pulp but another emotion was taking over. I don’t know if was the intoxicating level of testosterone in this room or just the shear size of Clint and Matt but I didn’t want to leave; I couldn’t leave. Clint smiled; slapped my shoulder and guided me towards the squat rack. I looked down at Matt, who was still on the ground. He looked up with a smile and slowly made his way to his feet. The two massive men stood behind me and I watched their reflections in the mirror as the heavy weight started to press into my broad shoulders and huge traps. With a grunt I hoisted the weight and started to squat. As blood filled my legs, my anger dissolved. The craving to feel even muscle fibre in my body beg for relief took over and I powered the bar up and down. I don’t know how many reps I did but when I re-racked the weights I stumbled back and almost fell over. I looked down at my quads and I couldn’t see my feet due to the swollen leg muscles. I looked at Matt and he was slowly stroking his hard cock. “Let’s lift” I said as the two huge men hurried to add more weight. ———————————————————————————————————————— I had had countless intense workout with Tyler but they now paled in compassion to the workout I had with Clint and Matt. Brutal squats led to torturous leg press and devastating calf raises. An hour later we could no longer move. I was laying on the floor and Matt was propped against the wall as Clint handed us each a massive protein shake. We were all sweating profusely and breathing heavy. I glanced towards Matt. He was rubbing his cock and staring at my blood engorged quads and calves. If I could have measured them I’m sure they were at their all time biggest. Clint noticed Matt’s gaze and said “He’s a fucking mutant isn’t he Matt?” “He sure is Clint. Next to you he’s the biggest freak I’ve ever seen.” Clint walked over to me and extended his wet, huge hand. I reached up and with a grunt, he lifted me to my feet. I stumbled a few steps but gained my balance. “Let’s compare beast to beast for the kid” Clint said. “Fuck yeah!” I replied. Clint planted his feet and twisted his 400lb body. He grabbed his wrist and hit a side chest pose. He flexed every muscle and exploded with mind boggling mass. He looked to be as wide and thick as he was tall. Not to be outdone I quickly mimicked his pose. I could feel my incredibly pumped quads pressing against each other. My hamstrings and calves were so pumped they almost touched. Matt sat of the floor looking up at our massive bodies and let out a low whimper. I stepped closer and positioned my forearms behind my head. It was a battle just to place them behind my thick, swollen neck. Once secure, I flared my lats and tightened my abs. I positioned my feet and flexed my legs; showing the kid a horrifyingly huge ab/thigh pose. I grunted and flexed harder. My entire body shook from the strain. Clint stepped in front of me and started to caress my cobblestone-hard ab muscles. He wiped my sweat up my stomach and onto my dense, vein-covered lats. He took a step away and balled his fists. With laboured movement, he placed his hands behind his waist and stared to flare his lats. I stopped posing as his body started to expand. When I thought he had reached his maximum width he just smiled and flexed harder. His inhumanly wide body continued to grow. Before my eyes, Clint mutated into a beast that was no longer human. He grew into a seething mass of muscle and vein. “WORSHIP ME!” he screamed through gritted teeth and spit. As I stepped closer I felt; for the first time in many years, small. My hands trembled as I touched his granite hard pecs. I could feel the individual muscles and tendons quiver. My hands ran down his keg-sized forearms. I had never felt muscle so huge and hard. Matt made his way to his feet and stood beside me. He started to lick the sweat off Clint’s flexed biceps. His head looked minuscule next to Clint’s 28” bicep. Clint pivoted on his feet so we could worship his back. When he turned I let out a low whimper at the site. He was clearly wider than he was tall. Deep, striated mounds of back muscles covered every flexed inch. His bloated traps rose inches above his ears. Each lat muscle was so huge, I could barely see his forearms and elbows. As Matt and I ran our hands over his sweaty skin, Clint dropped his arms. As we both stared in awe of his now un-flexed back, Clint bent his arms and drove them back. Instantly his back solidified again. Deep striations erupted. Fine lines sliced across his lower back and up each compacted lat. Not wasting any time, Clint raised his hands up and flexed his grotesquely pumped arms. He then adjusted his left leg and flexed his glutes, hamstrings and calves. I dropped to the ground and grabbed hold of his flexed calve. My hand barely covered the back of the dense muscle. I could feel the fibres twitch. Matt grabbed hold of Clint’s underwear and ripped it off his body. I look up as he traced the deep striations on Clint’s glutes. Clint relaxed the pose again and turned to face us. “Stand up” he commanded. We complied. Clint reached out and grabbed both of our underwear a tore them off simultaneously. “Time to cum all over this freakishly huge body.” Clint said and proceeded to hit a most muscular pose. His massive body once again contorted and expanded before our eyes. “Look at ME! Look at all this power and mass! I’m the biggest, most muscular, roid-filled FREAK on the planet!” He bellowed. To even compare Clint to another mire bodybuilder would have been an injustice to the term. He continued to grow and flex his impossibly big body. The strain of the flex was evident on his face but he refused to stop. After holding the pose for 20 seconds he let out a loud growl and said “CUM! NOW!” Matt and I didn’t even have to touch our cocks before thick ropes of cum started to cover Clint’s body. Gallons of cum soaked his entire upper body. It dripped onto his pumped quads and started to puddle on the floor. Clint stopped the pose and held his arms out, relishing the affect he was having on both of his huge worshippers. When we had spent our last drop Clint threw Matt over his shoulder and wrapped his free arm around my waist hoisted me off the ground. With a grunt he rammed his rock hard cock up my ass. In an astounding display of raw power, Clint adjusted his hold on Matt so he could start sucking his still-hard cock. There in the middle of the gym; Clint power fucked me in mid-air while manhandling Matt with ease. I glanced in the mirror and came again at the sight. Clint let out a savage bellow and came all over my chest and abs. Clint dropped both of us and stepped away. He continued to jerk his massive cock and sprayed both myself and Matt with a massive load of cum. He was so pumped he looked downright terrifying. He stepped towards the mirror and started to worship his own freaky mass. He smeared cum and sweat all over his skin as he flexed. I was too spent to move. I just watched the humungous beast pose and flex. My muscle trance was broken by the sound of my cell phone ringing across the room. I managed to get to my feet and when I looked at my phone screen I saw a number of text messages; all from Tyler. The last one read - WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!
  23. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Yo, I finished up this next chapter early so I'm posting it . I planning on writing the next one and posting it on Wednesday too. This section was really fun to write. I gets pretty intense in some places and I know you guys will love it. So here it is. A College Weight Room Story: The Path to Gains Monday: Resurgence Part 9 I’m standing in the locker room. I’m completely nude, but I don’t care. For the first time I don’t care if anyone walks in and sees me naked. My body looks great so why should I care? My pecs bulge out of my chest so much that my nipples point down. My lats are so swollen that they get in the way of my biceps. My biceps are rock hard with vascular veins pumping their way down my arms. My abs are rock hard, my ass is thick and my legs are as huge as tree trunks. I look down at my erect cock and smile; who wouldn’t want this cock? The locker room door suddenly opens and I look up to see Ethan walking in. His eyes bulge out of his head as soon as he sees. I give him a cocky smile, almost laughing at the bewildered look in his eyes. He stands frozen by the door. “Uh…What’s up man?” he says. He looks a bit embarrassed. His face is turning red, but he shouldn’t be. He’s not the one without any clothing. “Just getting changed into my compression shorts,” I say as I point to the bright red shorts on the bench. I turn towards him and continue to speak. My erect dick points in his direction and I know he is trying his best not to stare. “You gotten really big, man. Way bigger than when we first met. It’s amazing.” He slowly walks into to the bench beside me and takes his bag off his back. He starts removing clothes from it, not taking his eyes off of me once. “Like what you see?” I ask. His face turns red. I feel amazing. I love having this effect on people and when it’s a bro like Ethan, it’s even more amazing. “I…I…I want to see what your muscles looked like flexed…” “Really now?” I say with a smirk. “Yes…Could you flex for me? “I’m glad you asked.” I make my way closer to him and flex my pecs. They bounce up and down and I notice his breath hitch. “Have a feel,” I say. Within a second his hand is on my hard pec. He squeezes and I flex beneath his hand. I can feel my dick getting harder. I lift my right arm and flex my bicep. His hand makes its way to my biceps and he slowly caresses his hand across it. “You’re like a rock,” he says. “It’s not the only thing that’s a rock right now,” I say. We both look down at my dick. “Yeah, I can see.” BAM!! Ethan and I both jump. The bathroom door burst open with such force that the noise echoes through the entire locker room. We both look to see who it is. It’s Troy… and he is angry. He rushes over to us, his shoulders hunched up, grabs Ethan by the arms, and tosses him across the room. “Troy!” I scream. VRRRRRRRTTT…VRRRRRRRT…VRRRRRRTT… My eyes burst open and I see the ceiling. The sun’s morning glow caresses every surface of my bedroom. My phone is ringing. It’s what woke me up. I immediately grab my phone and answer the call. “Hello?” “Yo dude, what’s up?” “Ethan? It’s like...” I check the time on my phone. “9 am.” “Yeah, well I texted you and didn’t get an answer. I saw Troy after my 8am class this morning and he says today is a good day for a little wrestling.” “Really? What time?” “He’s only free at 10:30. He has a class at 12:30 and he wants to shower and get lunch before.” “That’s a little over an hour from now! I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet, Ethan!” “Well let’s go eat ASAP and meet him at the gym.” “Okay,” I say. I feel a sharp pain in my groin and look down at my swelling cock. I’m rock hard from my dream. I can’t ignore it either. “Give me 20 minutes to get there.” “Aight, cool. See ya man.” “See ya.” I hang up the phone and my hand is immediately on my dick. I usually sleep nude so it was easily accessible. Tossing the blanket to the side, I hastily begin tugging at my ever swelling meat. My body is craving the satisfaction of a good cum and I can already feel the energy building up in my body. I feel the energy flow from my cock up into my chest and my breathing gets heavier as this familiar spark of energy rushes through my veins. My hand continues to stroke even faster. Precum begins to leak from my cock onto my lower abs. The veins in my dick protrude as my blood pumps harder. I’m getting close. I’m moaning now. I can’t control myself because of how good I feel. The pressure in my nuts rises, the tension getting stronger and stronger and suddenly I burst. I suck in a large gasp of air as streams of cum begin to shoot out of my dick. My back arches as one jet, then two, and then another three jets of cum shoot out of my dick. The first shoots over my head onto my pillow, the second onto my shoulder and the last three onto my chest. My arm drops and I start to relax. “Fuck,” I say breathlessly. It’s been a while since I came this much. My breathing is slowed and more relaxed now so I grab the shirt I took off last night to clean the splattered cum off my chest. Thoughts of my dream start to come back to me. I imagine Troy throwing Ethan again and my chest aches. I could never see those two hating each other. Why was Troy angry and what does it mean? I have a bad feeling…a feeling like something horrible could happen, but I don’t know what could cause it to happen or why it would happen it all. Whatever may happen, I’m sure it has something to do with an altercation between Ethan and Troy. I look at the time on my phone. I have 10 minutes left to get dressed and then go meet Ethan. I go to my closet, put on some jeans and a T-shirt, and pack my backpack with my singlet. Then I’m out of my room and out of my frat house in a flash. “Bro, what’s on your mind?” Ethan says. We had been eating for about 10 minutes and our conversations had been shortened by periodic silences caused by me being lost in thought. He jerks me out of my thoughts and I look at him startled. “Nothing man. I’m just thinking of a dream I had.” “What was it about?” “Uhh… Just school stuff. I dreamt that I failed a test in my criminology class and then I had to drop out of school because I couldn’t finish my Criminal Studies major and then I died…” “Whoa, man! It was just a dream! None of that will actually happen.” Whew! He fell for it. There is absolutely no way I am telling him about the violent part of the dream. Maybe one day I’ll tell him about the worshiping. I love muscle worship, but I don’t know if Ethan does. Not yet. “I know. I’ll get over it. So how was your night?” I say as I scoop scrambled eggs into my mouth. I want the conversation to change. “Well after basketball yesterday I showered, ate dinner, and just chilled in my room. It was a pretty laxed evening. Not to be too personal, but every time I exercise I get a rush of testosterone so you can figure out what happened when I got alone in my room.” I laugh at him not so subtly admitting that he masturbated. “Bro, trust me,” I say. “I totally understand. This morning was pretty hard for me… wait I didn’t mean that! Shit!” Ethan spits out the milk he is drinking and we both burst into laughter. Ethan even ends up coughing a little. “Dude, I’m sure you said what you meant. I bet you were pretty hard,” Ethan says with a wink. This just puts me in another uncontrollable fit of laughter. It’s moments like these that I believe Ethan wouldn’t mind at all if I asked him to flex for me or vise-versa. Before we know it, it’s time to go wrestle and Ethan and I make our way over to the gym from the dining hall. We head over to the locker room as soon as we enter the gym and I begin to remember my dream again. I shrug off the thoughts. There’s no way that will happen. I open the locker room door to see one single person in the room, Troy, and he’s standing completely naked. He still has the round, full ass that I remember. His back is turned to us Ethan and I as he rummages through his locker. I look over to Ethan who seems pretty chill. Nothing unusual about a naked guy in the locker room right? He turns around and sees us. “Vonny!” he says. He gives me a huge smile and begins to walk over to me, still nude. His dick flops around as he comes near and I freeze up. He brings me into a tight bear hug and all I can think of is how strange this must look to Ethan, but this is typical Troy. He still feels as firm and strong as he did before. I guess muscle regression takes a little longer for him. “How have you been, bro?” I say as he lets go. “Hanging in there?” He looks over to Ethan. “What’s up, Ethan?” He walks over to Ethan, still naked, and gives him a handshake. “Nothing much, man,” Ethan says nervously. “I’m ready to kick both of your asses though!” I guess that nervousness was temporary. “Oh, really?” Troy and I both say. “Then let’s put our singlets on and wrestle!” I say to Ethan. We quickly change. Troy puts on his tightest grey compression shorts and a tight grey compression shirt. Ethan sports a dark blue singlet and I a black one. Once we are dressed we make our way over to the mats. “And so the fun begins,” says Troy. “Ethan, you and I go first. Winner takes on Von.” He moves his way to the mat and Ethan takes his position in front of him. I watch as the two beasts go at each other. Troy seems to have the upper hand. He’s about 30 pounds heavier than Ethan. I remember him saying he was 170 pounds in the past, but I have no clue how much mass he has lost since then. He is still strong though. He flips Ethan onto his back and slams him on the floor. I hear the breath leave Ethan’s body, but he doesn’t give up. He slips from beneath Troy and latches onto his back. Troy struggles beneath Ethan’s weight and lets out a deep grunt, his face turning red from the pressure. I watch in amazement as these two monsters go at each other and I feel the familiar surge of energy in my groin. “You can’t beat me, bro!” Troy says. He flips onto his back with Ethan on it. Ethan lets out a loud puff of air and he lets go. “Damn!” he says. Within a second Troy pins Ethan down again. I watch him struggle beneath him, the sweat dripping down his face. It’s nice to know that Troy still has his strength. After a few more rounds, Troy comes out as victor and it’s my turn to go up against him. “I thought you were top dog, Ethan!” I say to taunt him. “Guess today just isn’t my day, man,” he says. I look down and see a hard bulge protruding through his tight singlet. I smirk at it. “Alright,” Troy says pointing at me. “Your turn!” He looks at me with such determination. It has been so long since I’ve seen his eyes this bright. “Let’s go! Bring it” I say, edging him on. I move to the mat and suddenly he is on top of me. His thick pecs connect with mine and I feel his arms wrap around my back. His grip is strong and there is nothing I can do to break out. I miss how powerful he was and it seems that his strength hasn’t wavered at all. He is too strong, even for me and my body is repeatedly slammed and pinned to the ground. I’m amazed and in no way upset by his display of power. After a few rounds I am sweaty and tired, but Troy seems even more pumped. I can tell he misses this. He must miss exerting himself and feeling powerful like he is now. I feel a little sad for him. After he is finishes whooping me, we towel off. “That was the most fun I have had in a while,” Troy says to me and Ethan. “You’re telling me,” I say. “This is great!” I finally have my bro back. I feel that Ethan, Troy and I could be bros for life. “So Von, you wanna go for a workout? “says Ethan. “It’s only 12:00 and I don’t have class for a couple hours.” “That sounds great man,” I say. “You heading to lunch Troy?” “Yup, I’ll see you guys around.” He fists bumps us both and we separate. Ethan and I walk into the weight room and Troy out the gym door. We make our way over to a weight bench by the window. “So Ethan, I noticed you were a little happy down there earlier?” I say teasing. “Bro!” he says embarrassed. “You know how things get in the heat of the moment. Popping a boner is—“ He suddenly stops speaking. He is staring out of the window. I look in the direction he is looking and see what he sees. Troy is outside of the gym and he is yelling loudly at a girl in front of him. His back is turned to us and I can see the girl’s face. She has curly strawberry blond hair, freckles and glasses. It’s his girlfriend, Terri, and she is beyond pissed. They don’t notice us through the window, but I can hear their every word. “I told you never to go here again! You know I don’t want you looking like a fucking freak, Troy!” Terri says and begins to storm off. “I wasn’t working out, babe!” Troy cries. “I was wrestling with my friends!” He begins to follow her and their voices begin to fade as they walk away from the gym. “Wrestling!? Who wrestles!? I know that’s a lie. I know you are covering up and you were really in the weight room.” “But I fucking wasn’t!” “Don’t lie to me! Why can’t you do this one thing for me Troy!?” He speaks but he’s too far away to hear now. I stand beside Ethan in shock. I never imagined their relationship so…fiery. Ethan and I just look at them as they walk away. “What a bitch,” he says.
  24. Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 Chapter 21: Sam and Casey February 10th, 2022 2035 Hours Right after the presentation, Moster briefly convened the men in the corridor around the corner from the lab. “Okay, what just happened?” asked Alvarez. “Didn’t you see? The Army creamed in their pants at the sight of us,” answered Chad. Hension, as always, stood by, pensively flexing his muscles and dreaming. Chad clapped him on the back of the head. “Ow! What’d I do?” “Pay attention.” “Head back to your quarters, men. Await further instruction. Visitation tonight strictly prohibited.” Moster was specific. He’d turned his broad back and strode away, but all saw as he turned he was grinning. “Strictly prohibited?” asked Alvarez. Moster glanced back at them briefly. “Just keep the volume down.” And he was gone down the corridor towards his suite. “My room, 10 minutes,” Alvarez said to Lang. “Yeah, baby!” They were gone. Hension looked after them, and followed a moment later. Casey was thinking of Sam. He could think of nothing else – the way the handsome young ensign had stared at him. He’d caught his name on the way out. Sam. Sam Victor. Schumacher glanced briefly at Tiffany, who was, as usual, smiling and opaque. “I’m gonna go train,” grumbled Washington. “Me, too,” said LeFevre. Tiffany walked away without a word. Schumacher watched his butt as he went, and turned and walked back to his room, seething as usual. “I’ll join you,” said Waring, looking after Schumacher. “Me, too,” said Jin. “Wait for us,” said Reed. “You in?” he asked Blankenship. “Sure.” He clamped his hand around the back of Eli Meyer’s head and gestured, train? Eli shook his head no, mimed he was going to go to bed and jerk off. Blankenship laughed. “Maybe I’ll join you instead.” Meyer nodded and off they went together, Reed following. “Not gonna train?” Washington called after him. “Changed my mind.” He threw his arms around Meyer and Reed and walked away with them. “Showers after?” asked Obatu. “Whaddya you think?” asked Blankenship. “Wait for me,” said Chad. He turned to Bogarde, who was headed to his room. “Not you?” “Yeah, I’m coming. Wanna get my nipple clamps first.” “Gonna work pecs?” “Yeah.” “I’ll bind your tit clamps if you spot my curls,” said Gunst. “Tonight I’m gonna blast these big guns to the limit.” Abdul said nothing. He went on his way alone, looking for Pedro. His dick was twitching. Casey ran back to his room and quickly brushed his teeth and combed his hair. He reeled off 300 pushups, which took him less than 3 minutes. Then he ran out the door in search of Sam. After a moment he came back, climbed up on a steel chair he kept in the corner, reached high, and carefully adjusted one of the lights on his posing dais. Nice and easy. "That's better," he said to himself. Then he went out again, in search of Sam. October 21st, 2021 1843 Hours The men gathered around Casey, now kneeling on the hard concrete floor before Abdul, who stood before him, cock out, ready to plunge in. Unexpectedly, before he started, Casey spoke. “Tell them to pull up their pants. I want to see their dick outlines in their pants.” A pause. “Pull ‘em up, gentlemen,” commanded Moster. “And when I say so – and not before – they can pull them down again. At my command. Or I stop this.” The White Caps seemed to be working. Moster suppressed a smile as the men in line looked at one another, bent, pulled up their jeans, and fastened them – with some difficulty, as each man was now sporting 10 – 15 inches of wood. The bulges were….dizzying. Casey leaned in closer to Abdul, the Arab’s 15 inch cock now bobbing two inches from his face. “Yeah,” he said. “I like that. I like the view. They can flex, too. Tell them to flex.” “Gentlemen, front double biceps, please.” “Yours too, Sergeant Moster.” Moster raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. Biceps slowly rose, like the rising of 36 suns over distant mountains, hitting the ceiling, filling the room with flexed muscle. “Dr. Lang?” The video cam whirred to life. “Okay. Here goes.” And Casey opened his mouth, and for the first time in his life, took a male organ inside. Abdul, above him, spread his legs wide, and began slowly pumping his hips into Casey’s face. February 10th, 2022 2050 Hours At the same time that Alvarez and Lang were just getting under way with Pose and Approve, Casey was standing in front of Sam in the corridor outside the men’s room. Even now, months after he first arrived in the main building, Casey had gotten lost four times. He worried that Sam may have left the building. And that he’d lost his opportunity. But no, for there he suddenly was 40 feet down the main corridor, coming out of the men’s room. His heart filled with joy as he ran up to him. Sam stopped short, surprised. The 6’-7”, 330 pound bodybuilder muscle giant Casey Rockland was suddenly just there, standing shyly before him, legs spread awkwardly wide, his hands held meekly at his side. He was breathing deeply as if he had just been running. “Hi!” he said, a little desperate sounding. “Well, hello,” answered Sam. Casey was still wearing the white VALHALLA LABS t-shirt he’d worn before he stripped down for the presentation to the brass, bulging with barely sheathed muscle, the gigantic arms pouring out of straining sleeves, the tight white jeans, bursting at the quads and calves, and the black army boots. A light coat of sweat gleamed in the corridor light. Sam tried to meet his eyes at first, but in spite of all his control his vision wandered as he began to take in the staggering proportions of the handsome young behemoth standing before him. The dude was perfect. Fucking perfect. Casey radiated golden-tanned muscle, his taut skin gleaming a natural sheen of rich, deep brown-gold. The sleeves of his t-shirt strained to half-cover the bulging, hard, veiny, cannonball masses of his unreal, sick biceps. His firm round pecs were held hugely high, and Sam could easily make out the shape and slight coloring of the man’s large red-brown nipples. His square jaw was alluring, with a movie star’s cleft chin and a day-old scruff. His eyes shone a deep violet blue. The crew cut was of thick burnished gold. The hands? Each the size of both of his, held together. Below, the outline of an 8-pack of deep, firmly ridged abs pounded through the t-shirt, hillocks of muscle deeply sloping to ridges of darkest ab lines, all tapering to an improbable – no, unbelievable – 30 inch waistline. The boy’s broad lats spread horizontally behind, like eagle wings, the traps above the pecs boulders of pure power, his deltoids powerful triple-headed mountains of strength. And then Sam’s gaze went a little lower – and held there. O My God. There it was again. And now only five feet away. “I was afraid you’d left.” “No, I’m still here.” “Yeah! Um. I see….good!” The fly of Casey’s white jeans wasn’t merely bulging. It loomed with the weight of the heavy member firmly curled, tucked away and packed inside. It was if he was carrying a long, thick, heavy snake in his pants. A boa constrictor. No less than that. Clearly, the boa was currently at rest. The barely-restraining fly was fully revealed by the fly flaps, forced back by the tautness of the fabric. The zipper appeared to be industrial grade. No doubt made of some sort of reinforced steel. Sam stared openly at the ungodly bulge. Then he heard a voice, and he shifted his eyes back up. “So…you’re…you’re Ensign Victor. Is that your name? And, um, your rank?” Casey was fumbling to think of something, anything to say. He stumbled forward, hand extended to shake. “Does that mean you’re in the Navy?” So Casey wasn’t the brightest bulb in the billboard, was he? All the better. “Call me Sam.” He smiled, offering his hand and Casey shook it with firm eagerness. He nearly crushed Sam’s fingers in his vice-like grip, but Sam never blinked. He smiled sweetly. “Nice to meet you,” Sam said. Casey glowed. Sam turned slowly, smiling, and resumed his walk toward the main hall. Casey trotted up alongside. “Where you going?” “I’m under orders to find about more about you men.” “I can tell you more!” “All right, then. Shall we talk? Before I meet with the others?” “Yeah! I mean, you don’t have to talk to them. I’ll tell you everything you wanna know!” “Everything…?” “Welll…..” Casey looked around. “Enough.” “Fine, then. Where shall we go?” “My quarters! How about my…quarters…? Okay?....” “Lead the way.” October 21st, 2021 1845 Hours In the first moments, Casey didn’t think he’d much like sucking Abdul’s cock. The huge Moroccan pushed his hard cock into his mouth without any ceremony. As new to this as Casey was, shouldn’t there be something like…he didn’t know, maybe some foreplay? He knew Abdul was not about to kiss him or anything – geez – but still, as his enormous penis came, hard as iron, enshrouded with thick veins, like a freight train, slow and big and hard and powerful and unyielding, the corona and the shaft pushing resolutely past his lips and teeth and deeply into his mouth and down his throat, Casey wondered, just a nanosecond, ‘Shouldn’t there be a little – something more?’ But, no. Guess not. For there it was, huge and throbbing and hot, crammed down his throat, deep and firm, in one thrust. And no nothing else. Just cock. Not even any flexing. No challenge, no demand to feel his muscles. It was just cock. Big and hard and throbbing and hot and unyielding. At first, Casey was stunned. His eyes went wide and he looked up, his mouth full of cock, even fuller than he’d ever imagined, his lips enveloping the thick shaft of a man’s penis for the first time in his life. Okay, so he had to get used to this. He was beginning to realize they did a lot of this here at the top of the mountain. And he did want bigger muscles, so….. So. It didn’t take him long. February 10th, 2022 2055 Hours Casey practically skipped ahead down the corridor, talking excitedly to San over his shoulder as he went. “I heard about you. The men…the other guys…..you know, in the lab…. They said you were coming tonight. I wanted to meet you before they did.” “Who said I was coming? Who knows me here?” Sam asked calmly. “Oh. Oh, they all do. All of them. They’ve talked about you. Um.” He stepped ahead of Sam and gestured hopefully down the corridor. “I was hoping to …. um….talk to you first. So you want to know more about us?” Sam stopped, turned, and smiled serenely with plain honesty. So the others talked about him. How did they know him? Still, the thought pleased him. “Yes. But principally, I want to know more about you. Personally. And we’d all want to hear more about the project. We’d like to learn more about all of you. Who you all are, where you’re all from.” Sam paused. “But I’d like to hear a little more about you in particular.” Casey’s eyes grew wide with joy. “I’d like to ask you a few questions,” Sam continued breezily, “if I might. You sure you have the time for me?” “YEAH!” Casey said, almost shouting, and then glanced around in quick alert spasms to ensure no one had heard him. Tiffany could appear at any point and stop the fun. Of late, Tiffany had been stalking him….and Casey didn’t like it. Not to play, but to keep Casey under personal wraps. “I mean, yes, sure, I have time,” Casey said again, more quietly. “Let’s go.” “It’s late. Sure you don’t mind?” “Naw. Tomorrow’s a rest day anyway. We trained hard tonight. Got all pumped up for you guys.” He paused, and then added. “I’m really pumped up.” “Are you?” “Yeah! REALLY pumped. Very big. Um…” He was getting ahead of himself. He stopped, shyly, confused, and then continued. “Down here. I think. Yeah, I’m right. I get lost sometimes. This way.” He walked ahead fast, heading down the corridor, looking either way, watching for spies. “Down here.” Sam picked it up and hustled a little behind. He was in complete control of himself. His eyes were half-lidded and studiedly casual. He watched the muscleboy’s dancing butt as he ran ahead of him down the corridor. He sure is happy about something, Sam thought. I'm gonna pose for this dude for hours," Casey was thinking happily. October 21st, 2021 1846 Hours Casey closed his mouth around the hugeness of Abdul’s cock with an eagerness that surprised him. His lips held firm. Hey, it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it felt right. In fact, it felt great. He glanced up, and then bent his head down and went to work. He started to suck. Lotta veins here. Nice. He pulled back, managed to get his tongue out to wet his lips. In a moment his mouth was wet and milky with thick gobs of spit. He leaned in an resumed. Wow, this was cocksucking? He really liked it. Abdul began to pump his face, first slowly, then fiercely. His big penis started to glide powerfully, in and out of Casey’s mouth. “Mmmmm,” Casey moaned. “Uh hunh,” Abdul moaned. “Fucking your mouth, boy.” The men stepped closer. “Wow,” breathed Hension, and this time, no one smacked him. So, all in all, and pretty fast, it got fun. February 10th, 2022 2056 Hours Sam could hear some moans and groans drifting from various rooms. “What’s going on?” he asked Casey. “Oh, they’re probably all fucking and sucking dick by now." Casey had stopped in front of a door. "Here’s my room. These are my quarters. You wanna come in?” He unlocked it, opened up and went in. Sam was pleasantly startled. “Yes, of course.” Fucking and sucking dick by now? So much for the claim by Zaftig that the muscle giants didn’t have sex. The truth would seem to be otherwise. He followed the giant in. Casey was waiting on the other side of the door, closing it behind Sam as he entered. “Welcome to my room,” he said. October 21st, 2021 1837 Hours “Breathe through your nose,” instructed Moster. “Yeah, we all have to do it that way or we’d suffocate,” said Lang helpfully. Casey looked up. Abdul nodded. “Do it,” he said gruffly. Casey, on his knees, gazed a little up at Abdul’s black eye. It made him hotter, remembering he was still sporting a nice big shiner himself. “Okay.” He’d never sucked a cock before. But of course his masturbation fantasies had included it since he was 8. His bed sheets at the Home had been stiff and sticky with boy cream produced from midnight fantasies of just such a scene. Him, on his knees, servicing the huge penis of a muscle god. And Abdul’s penis was satisfyingly huge, yes, a full, warm, salty dark log of beef gliding forcefully between Casey’s lips and sluicing powerfully, relentlessly down his throat. It plundered deeper into his larynx than he would have thought possible. Casey would have been startled, if he’d thought of it, at how easily his throat opened up, taking it all, without resistance or gagging, swallowing the hugeness of it. The man’s penis was uncut and slightly cheesy to the taste, and the foreskin proved something interesting to nibble on. It filled his mouth – and Casey had a big mouth – and lay at intervals resting with heavy satisfaction atop his tongue. It grew even larger when inside, too, taking on the warmth and liquid of Casey’s mouth. It expanded and began to throb and play and jump, scraping against his teeth. He couldn’t help but bite, just a little, but Abdul, above him, his eyes closed and his face to the ceiling, didn’t seem to notice, mind, or care. The cockhead should have choked him, or gagged him, or something, but rather immediately, Casey had no problem taking it in, 14 inches of girth capped by a huge mushroom corona. Precum must have been dribbling from the piss slit, because right away Casey could taste cum oozing down his throat, coating his tongue. He knew the taste well. He always ate his own, every time he jerked off, 5 to 6 times a day. Abdul was moaning loudly now and was probably unaware of it. “He any good?” asked Blankenship. “Kid knows how to suck dick,” said Abdul between moans. Casey was licking now, playing with the enormous cockhead with light tongue taps. “Oh, God. This kid is good. Really good. Get ready.” “Look, he don’t even gag,” breathed Lang. The other men nodded sagely. “Pants Stay UP!” Casey suddenly yelled. General groans. All were playing with their tools in their trousers, getting big, hard and ready. Hension was flexing for himself, as usual. Gunst was rubbing his 8 pack, while Jin and Schumacher were unconsciously pawing each other’s packaged schlongs. And Tiffany was there, too. Smiling. Always smiling, his fat big organ poling straight ahead in his pants. Casey guessed he’d have to suck his cock, too, but as beautiful as it was, he wasn’t looking forward to it. He was about 8th down the line. Okay, so that would be later. “No gag reflex on this boy,” said Moster from the back. “That’s a good thing. You can suck cock all night, right, Cadet? And not get tired? And keep breathing? Your jaw hurt?” Casey nodded, then shook his head, confused as how to answer. He pulled back. “I like it, sir” he answered. “My jaw don’t hurt.” “Don’t stop,”said Abdul, his voice now had a note of pleading in it. Wow. Casey smiled. “Okay,” he said, and bent down, his mouth full, going back to the business at hand, his throat crammed, sucking a big cock, as all the bodybuilders in the room watched. The tension in the room added a thick layer of electricity, covering them all. And there in the corner, there was Dr. Irving, as always, shooting video. Casey reached down began to steadily work his own gigantic tool, completely popped out of his baggy sweatpants. “Shit, look at his junk,” muttered Chad. “Big as Moster’s,” said Waring. “Close.” Moster looked up critically. And – he had to admit it. Casey’s cock was indeed close to his own in girth, weight, thickness, and circumference. Hmmmm. February 10th, 2022 2058 Hours Casey’s quarters were an efficiency studio with kitchenette and bathroom. The room was large as befitted a huge muscleboy, but somehow with the lighting and the sofas and the pillows – and the posing dais with all the mirrors, and lighting just so– it was still cozy. It was all concrete, everywhere, true but Casey had tried to enliven it with an LED TV, a computer, some stuffed animals and a few plants. There were dozens of books in a study bookshelf. A small private terrace just beyond double glass sliding doors and dark with night gave a beautiful view of the bright stars above. The terrace walls were high and covered with ivy. No one would be able to see Casey sunbathing naked in the late afternoon sun. Sam could envision him spread out on the extra-durable steel chaise longue, his 12” soft cock languidly lying atop a ripped quad. Sam could see Casey watering his few little plants, desperately trying to keep them alive. A lonely boy’s room. It was sweet and sad. Lonely and alone. No muscleman this beautiful should ever be alone. “Want some coffee? Water? A beer? Juice?” he asked eagerly. Sam wondered if he ever had any visitors at all. Sam nodded. “Sure, that would be great.” Casey headed towards the darkened kitchenette and snapped the light on. Sam’s eyes followed his round, rock-hard tightly jeaned ass swaying as he went with its own inner rhythm. It was like dancing steel. “You have coffee?” Casey nodded, pulled an instant coffee jar from a cabinet, and filled a cup with hot water from the sink. “Yeah. Got it. Milk? Sugar?” “Just black. I see you have beer? I thought caffeine and alcohol were supposed to be bad for you.” “Naw. We can eat and drink anything. It won’t show up.” He stirred the coffee. “Come on in here,” he gestured. “Get it while it’s hot.” It sure as shit is, thought Sam. He came into the kitchenette. “Yeah, we can eat or drink anything. We just train it out. We’re gonna look like this for years. Except maybe we’ll get bigger.” He handed the cup to Sam. “Have a seat,” he offered, and Sam sat down at a small round table in the kitchenette. He looked back at the books in the shelf. “Looks like you work hard.” “I have to. I’m not as smart as the others. I’m pretty dumb, really. I don’t understand half of what’s in them books.” He corrected himself. “Those books. Coffee okay?” Sam sipped, nodded. “Fine.” It tasted terrible. Casey sat down at the little table with Sam. His heavy shoulders and pecs loomed over the table surface. He folded his big hands together and leaned in slightly, shy but – determined – about – what? Sam noticed there were slight tears in the tight sleeves of the t-shirt, still straining to cover the massive biceps. Casey followed Sam’s gaze. “Those guns are pretty impressive,” Sam said. Casey nodded, solemnly, without smiling. “They’re big. Not the biggest in the barracks, but close. They’ve always been big. 26 inches. Moster’s are bigger. Gunst’s too, I think, but I’m getting close to him. I think mine are harder than his, though.” “Impressive.” There was a long pause. “Would it be okay if I flexed for you?” Casey asked shyly. Sam sipped his coffee. “Sure, let’s see what you got.” October 21st, 2021 1843 Hours As he sucked, licked and played with the Arab dick, Casey became intrigued with the latticework of heavy veins that lined Abdul’s lower abs. Hmmm, he thought. Rough. Masculine. Ripped. He thought for a moment of Ramon Ramon, and then Miles Donovan. Maybe he could take a trip back to Raw Weight Gym sometime soon. Suck their dicks, too. In fact, there was also Banks, and Taylor, and the other cadets who wanted to touch and worship him. In fact, there was a whole world of cock waiting for him now. And who was going to say No to a kid as big and muscular and good looking as he was? Casey was, in fact, still discovering his own power. Looking down the line of men waiting, all of them hard and hot, he could see Gunst was next. Looking up, he saw that Abdul was now posing for him, doing a front lat spread, his fists buried in solid obliques. “Yeah, pose for me, big man,” muttered Casey, who continued to suck. “You pose for me, and then I’ll pose for you, and you’ll suck MY dick.” “Fuck you,” said Abdul. “Yeah, and I’ll do that, too,” replied Casey. February 10th, 2022 2058 Hours Casey didn’t need for Sam to prompt him further. He was ready to flex. Joyfully, he stood, towering over Sam. He slowly brought up his right arm, extended it, made a fist, and flexed. “Ka-boom!” he shouted. He flexed it again. “Wham! Bam!” The powerful peaks rose to the ceiling, pumping with sheathed veins. The tear in the shirt sleeve cloth widened a little more, the threads straining to cover the cannonball peak. Then he brought up the left arm, cocked the fist, and flexed it as well. Then he flexed both together, in a massive front double biceps display. “Pow Pow Pow Pow,” he added, whispering now, his gaze never leaving Sam’s face. “Look at my biceps. Check out these huge mother fucking guns.” He was whispering low, his face a foot away from Sam's. Sam gazed. In truth, he had never seen such muscle before. But still he seemed calm. The tendons of Casey’s forearms spasmed as if charged with electricity, and veins seemed to audibly pop as the heads of each biceps peaked. Casey clenched his fists powerfully and grinned, showing teeth. Then he grew shy again. A pause. “What do you think of me?” he asked timidly, still flexing mammoth biceps. “I think you’re fucking unreal.” Casey nodded seriously. “Yeah, I am.” He turned and inspected his flexed arm muscles closely. “26 inches. I have dense muscle fibers,” he reported. “And, um, good bones.” There was silence for a moment. Sam sat still, watching the unwavering young muscleman flexing his biceps. After a minute, Casey looked up, and brought his right arm closer to Sam. “You can touch it,” Casey said eagerly. “Feel how hard it is.” “Okay,” Sam said calmly. He rose to his feet, brought his hand up and touched the enormous biceps head with his fingers. It was impossibly hard and hot. He looked into Casey’s blue eyes, and smiled. Then he clapped the mountainous biceps full with his palm. He stroked, softly and more thoughtfully. In spite of himself his eyes grew wide for a moment. He had never felt any part of any man to be so hard to the touch. It was as if he was stroking hot, smooth iron. Casey looked at Sam a moment, then turned away, lowering his arm. He pulled a 5-gallon aluminum thermos from the refrigerator, unscrewed the top, and drank heavily. Sam watched him. He drank about a gallon, water running down his beautiful scruffy chin, then stopped, and held out the bottle for him. “Distilled water. Want some?” “I’m good.” “Okay.” He drank the another 2 gallons while Sam watched. “Sit down,” said Sam. “Thanks,” said Casey, as if he were the guest. He sat. Both men sat at the table. Casey wiped his mouth. “Hang on a minute,” Casey suddenly said. He reached into the kitchen table drawer and brought out a little vial. He shook out three capsules, grabbed his water bottle and swallowed them down, drinking the last gallon. Sam smiled. “Drugs?” Casey smiled back. “Just some P21.” He paused again. “Wait a minute while I get an orange.” He got up and walked across the room to a bowl of fruit. He grabbed an orange and chowed it down whole, without bothering to peel it. Then he smiled. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said. October 21st, 2021 1845 Hours “Pay attention. Lick it,” Abdul commanded, and Casey licked Abdul’s lengthy shaft from base to tip, as he would an ice cream cone. “Balls,” Abdul added, and Casey leaned in and turned his head up into the man’s perineum, the massive log now lying hard and lazy on his face, extending from jaw to hairline, gobbling at the leathery scrotum sacs that hung and swayed, slapping against Abdul’s iron muscled quads. Lolling the cock around in his mouth, Casey glanced up. The men were gathered around him now. Waiting, their pants still buckled, their flies up, bulging, waiting their turn. Waiting. 17 more cocks, all huge, bobbing, erect, ready to be tasted, probed, learned. His head was reeling now. The P21 was zinging about in his system. It was, after all, an aphrodisiac (although in truth, Casey wouldn’t have known the word). Wow, thought Casey. I like this. I really, really like this. No, 18 cocks. For there he was, in line, at the end, waiting. The monster cock. Sergeant Moster. Moster’s monster. “Moster has a monster….” Casey began to giggle. “Get serious and keep sucking,” commanded Abdul. “Yes, sir,” said Casey. The P21 was still kicking in. Even as Abdul pulled out, shooting thick rivers of white Arab cream, his blasting cum covering Casey’s face, and Blankenship stepped up for his turn, his own monster machine pushing through Casey’s lips, Casey knew he wanted it, too. “AUUUGHHHHNNN GGGHHH!!” cried Abdul, his mammoth pole shooting ropes of semen onto Casey’s face. Casey received the facial calmly. It felt warm and wonderful. He didn’t bother to wipe it off. Cum streamed down his face. Badge of honor. He wanted them all to line up to suck his cock. Now. It was as if Moster was reading his mind. “You’ll have to wait your turn, boy. Before you get your cock sucked in this squad, first you have to suck all of ours.” Casey shrugged. “Okay,” he said, and a moment later, his mouth was full of Blankenship’s ploughing, plundering machine. And on either side of him, Chad and LeFevre were now rubbing their protruding trouser bulges on his traps, impatiently awaiting their turns. He could also barely make out between Blankenship’s hip plunges that Lang was on his knees now, feverishly servicing Alvarez. Obviously Lang couldn’t wait. Okay. It was fine with him. It was all good. He looked up. Blankenship was closest to him, flexing biceps now. Wow, Casey thought. But mine are bigger. Wait till he sucks my cock. Behind Blankenship stood Gunst, eagerly awaiting his turn. Gunst’s cock was one he was looking forward to. He rapidly finished up on Blankenship, bringing him to climax, and then pushing him out of the way, grabbed for Gunst, who, surprised, came forward awkwardly. “Give me your dick, big man,” said Casey. “And let me see those big guns of yours.” Gunst began to flex huge biceps, as Casey took the giant cock in his mouth and began to chow down on it. Wow. Even bigger than Abdul’s. February 10th, 2022 2100 Hours Casey had oiled his arms up just before he met Sam in the corridor. He knew he wanted to show his biceps to the handsome young officer. It was as if he knew Sam would be coming. An instinct. From across the lab earlier that evening he’d seen the gleam in Sam’s eye, saw the once-over that was a little different, saw the stare Sam couldn’t cover at his large package. He knew there would be deep-throating going on before the evening was over. He could hardly wait. But first, he had oiled his biceps. “Play with then. G’wan. Feel my biceps. Have some fun with them. You know you want to.” Casey raised his fists higher and took a step closer. Sam could feel his breath. Sam brought up both his hands, and ran them along the flexed biceps of both Casey’s arms. He clapped the hard peaks, smacked the left forearm, and ran his fingers along a network of thick veins. Casey moved a little closer still. He brought his left arm right up under Sam’s nose. “…….why don’t you lick it…..?” he murmured. Sam gazed into Casey’s eyes. His gaze was mild, unthreatening, encouraging, hopeful, but firm. He wanted his biceps licked. Sam slowly leaned in, his eyes never leaving Casey’s and lightly flicked the biceps head with his tongue. Casey’s eyes closed and he inhaled gallons of air, heavily heaving forward. Then…… R-r-r-i-i-i-i-p-p-p! That was all it took – the touch of Sam’s tongue. Each of the straining sleeves of his t-shirt gave way, and tore open wide. Casey’s biceps burst free of their final confine, both gleaming with power. Sam licked the peaks, ran his tongue firmly up and down mountains of muscle, tasting dusky mineral oil. A droplet of moisture streamed slowly down the left peak. Sam licked it up. “Your shirt’s going,” he said quietly. “Fuck it,” said Casey. The fabric stretched to its maximum length, and split again in six different places, drifting gently down his torso and hanging at his belt. Casey tore off the remnants of the shredded t-shirt and blasted into a front lat spread. “It’s gone. I go through a lotta shirts this way.” "I'm sure of it." “I wanna keep posing for you.” “Go for it.” “Stand back then.” Casey started reeling off poses. First, he showed off his 60” chest in six different ways - front lat spread, most muscular, side chest left and right, crab shots, and slow pec dancing. "Boom Boom Boom Boom," he yelled out proudly as his pecs leaped and danced. His nipples were taut and high and hard. He wriggled and slapped his quads, still encased in the skintight white jeans. He turned full around and went into a lat spread, hands on his hips. “Watch this,” he commanded. His lats flared wider than seemed humanly possible. He arched his butt towards the ceiling and threw his head back, and every tendon of his back leaped out. Veins criss-crossed the canvas of his physique. Sam resisted a momentary impulse to fall to his knees and bury his face in his glorious butt. Somehow he restrained himself. Casey turned back front. “Doin’ hair now,” he said, cocking one biceps up and palming the back of his head with the other arm. Sam laughed. “You’re too young to remember Tom Platz.” Aha. In an instant, Casey got it. This dude knows who Tom Platz is. The dude likes muscle. Casey covered well. “I know who he was! He was awesome! "BAM!” Casey flexed his biceps. “You’ve never seen guns like this!” His enormous muscles danced, gleaming brilliantly in the bright kitchen light. Sam saw the look in Casey’s eye, and knew in a flash that he’d blown his cover. He was a muscle worshipper, too. Shit. Still, he covered well. “How about a little more oil there?” “Sure!” Casey said eagerly, secretly overjoyed. A worshipper! WOW. He whipped open a cabinet door and produced a large bottle of mineral oil. “Pour it on me, baby!” Sam stood and smiling, slowly unscrewed the bottle cap. He poured a generous amount of oil into his palm, and began to apply to Casey’s pecs. Casey brought his hands back to his hips and expanded his chest to its fullest size. Sam smoothed the oil onto the muscle boy. Beneath his hand he could feel Casey’s heart beating, the blood pulsing, the unyielding hardness of warm muscle. He rubbed the oil in. Casey’s pecs glistened, and droplets of sweat beaded into the mixture. Sam poured more oil and layered it onto to his rocky washboard abs. He smoothed the liquid evenly, then rubbed his hands together and took hold of the flaring lats, running his hands down Casey’s obliques. Sam glanced down at Casey’s jeans. The looming fly was beginning to bulge even larger. The men’s eyes met. Casey’s face colored a little. He was embarrassed. “Sorry, man,” he said. “Getting oiled always works me up.” He reached down to his crotch, squatted a little, pushing his big butt out, and adjusted himself. His face was bright red now. He explained. “These pants are too tight. Zaftig made us wear them tonight. Usually we’re just in jocks. Or posers. They’re made specially just for us. So we can fit everything in them.” He was breathing heavily, now, and though he felt slightly humiliated that his priapic eagerness was showing so clearly. All the same he was happy and satisfied that things were going so well. He had gotten to show Sam his muscles up close before the other guys did, and without getting caught. He flexed again his biceps and stood back. “I like doing that,” he said. “Go right ahead.” “Okay!” He flexed a few moments more, and then stopped. “So what do you want to know?” he asked happily. He looked down. “Sorry about the hard on.” There was no hiding it now. “It’s okay. You’re young. It’s bound to happen. Not a problem. Pull your pants down.” “Yeah?” asked Casey happily. “Yeah. I know you big bodybuilders love to pull your pants down, keep them over your ankles, waddle around with your pants over your big feet, showing off your quads…” “Okay!” Casey was practically singing with joy at the prospect of showing this handsome new guy, a guy he’s just met and already was swooning for, his huge muscles. “And my hams, wait until you see my hams…..” he crooned as he pulled his pants down to his ankles. October 21st, 2021 1900 Hours Casey looked down the row of waiting musclemen, shifting nervously, eagerly from foot to foot, and saw that Moster would come last – that implacable huge mountain of a member would be the last of the evening to maraud his throat. He closed his eyes and dreamed as Gunst let loose with a cascade of gism down his throat. Casey swallowed every drop. And was on to the next, who, it happened, was Chad. Followed by LeFevre. Together the two men plunged their cocks down Casey’s throat at the same time. He’d been sucking cock twenty minutes now, on his knees, his face thick with cum deposits, now and then flexing his own huge biceps while he sucked, now and then switching back and forth to Schumacher and Waring. The men watched intently. Casey pulled back and called out to Moster. “Tell them all to pull their pants down. Now. Around their ankles. Keep them down. I want to see their quads. And their hams.” He licked his lips, then wiped his hands on his cheeks and lapped up the cum. He grinned. It was even in his eyes. He didn’t care. “You heard him, men,” called out Moster from the back of the line. He unzipped and plunged his pants down to his ankles. All unzipped. Pants around ankles. Huge quads blazing with veins. And thick cocks, erect, lining up, down the row, one after another. Even Tiffany’s. And even Tiffany’s was huge. And beautiful. “Yeah, lookin’ good,” Casey mumbled, licking his Chad’s cock now. “Take ‘em both, boy,” Chad growled, his good humor vanished. “Yes, sir,” said Casey, sucking obediently. His knees were beginning to hurt. He reached down to rub them, and in an instant, the sweet-hearted Eli Meyer, from the back of the line, was suddenly there at his side with a pillow, which he got from God knew where, fluffing and arranging. He tapped the top of Casey’s quads and, one knee at a time, and never breaking his suck rhythm, Casey lifting each leg and allowed the pillow to be slid under his aching, bruised knees. Eli rose and Casey saw his bobbing cock, eye to eye. “Wanna thank you,” he muttered. He reached up and tousled his hair. He could see Eli was hoping for service. Casey pushed Chad and LeFevre roughly away and grabbed Eli by the hips, pulling him close. “Unzip,” he commanded, forming the words clearly so that Eli could read his lips. He unzipped and his eager, big young muscleboy penis spilled out. Casey’s mouth enveloping his now-at-attention rigid cock. Chad and LeFevre grumbled angrily but backed off, impressed by Casey’s determination. He was done with them. “Maybe we should have gotten him the pillow?” “It’s okay,” said LeFevre as he knelt before Chad and finished the job, grabbing Chad’s cock and enveloping it with his lips. He pumped himself to release as Chad shot in his mouth. “AUUUGHHHGGGHHH FUCCCKKK!!” Casey paid no attention. He worked Eli to a frenzied climax in no time. Thick spurts of cum travelled down his throat. An instant later, there was Obatu’s big black rod, marauding his mouth. “Keep those pants down around your ankles,” Casey commanded. “I wanna see quads. And bulges.” “Yes, sir,” answered one of the men. Probably Lang. “You heard the boy. Pants down. Around the ankles. Keep those cocks covered till he’s ready for you,” ordered Moster. “It’s what the boy likes,” he added. All the while, Dr. Irving’s video cam continued to whirr. Dr. Shaft will pay major bucks for this tape, thought Moster with some satisfaction. Thousands. Casey finished with Obatu, cumming in his mouth, sperm dribbling down Casey’s chin into big pools on the pillow beneath his knees. “AUUUGHHHGGGHHH shittttt!!” "Glad you enjoyed it," said Casey. "Next?" The line moved forward one more man. Moster’s turn was coming up soon. February 10th, 2022 2115 Hours Sam stood back and smiled, still breathing hard himself from the posing routine he had just witnessed. The kid was charming. Was it an act? Had to be. No matter. Casey was right. His hamstrings were sick. Back-blooming with thick roiling mounds of sheer striated muscle, in line with his rock hard butt, sweeping past the back of his head, thick and solid and bursting. But everything about the swole, beautiful young muscle beast was sick. And swole. Sam caught his breath. Casey was sweating now, standing before him in only his bulging posers, his pants still around his ankles. Sam decided to play it calm. “So. How long have you lived here?” “Three years.” Casey was breathing heavily, trying to seem casual, but with his swelling penis smoothing out the few folds that were in his posers, poling ever outward, it was increasingly impossible. “I think give or take, 3 years. Um. I don’t remember. Seems like forever. I got here when I was 17. But I only moved up the hill here a few months ago. When they thought I was big enough.” “When they thought you were big enough.” “Yeah.” “I see.” “Had a really tough workout tonight before the showing. Let’s see. Got here three years ago. I think.” He put the bottle down and started counting on his fingers, thinking hard. “Zaftig first spotted me when I was 15. I just got thrown out of school. I had nowhere to go. He told me to start training heavier, and he got me a little apartment. He paid me to train, said he wanted to see where I would be in two years.” He ticked off a finger. “I trained hard on my own for two years. When I was17, um, yeah, when I was 17, I finally met Zaftig. And that’s when he moved me here to the mountain.” “Why were you thrown out of school?” “Fighting.” He picked up the bottle and drank again. “I put about 12 guys in the hospital one night.” “I see.” “They were laughing at my dick.” “Uh hunh.” Casey changed the subject. “Zaftig thought I had real potential. But there were a few guys ahead of me. One or two dropped out of the program. A few got promoted into ranks. Once I got here, I started really training, training hard. Day and night. Had to follow a strict regimen.” “Sounds tough.” “Naw. I like it. I mean, what else can I do? Not much. I’m dumb.” Casey chugged the last of the 5 gallons. Sam watched him silently. He put the empty bottle down and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “I mean, yeah, it’s tough, but not so much when you love lifting like I do.” “Tell me about it. Tell me more about you.” “Hunh? Really? You want to know about me?” “Sure.” October 21st, 2021 1940 Hours Tiffany’s session had come and gone as fast as Casey could get the mean little muscleboy to cum. In his mouth, as it happened. Now Moster stood in front of Casey. It was finally his turn. All the men leaned in to watch. “Men, dismissed,” Moster said calmly. “Casey, to the showers.” The men looked at each other, stunned and perplexed. Abdul grumbled and walked quietly out of the room. He would head for the heavy bag room first and once he’d worked up a sweat, then find Pedro again. “Let’s go pose,” said Lang to Alvarez after a moment. “Yeah. Let’s go.” The two left the room. All filed out, a little perplexed. “Ain’t he even gonna spank him?” Hension asked plaintively as they left the gym floor. “How many times do you have to be told, don’t say ‘ain’t’,” barked Obatu, clapping him on the back of the head. “Ouch!” “Hit him in the face and he’s yours forever,” said Chad. Casey heard the men roaring as they headed down the hall. He wiped some of the cum off his face. Damn, every time he met with these guys he walked away coated with cum. Stlll, it tasted good. Damn good. He wiped his cheek and licked his fingers. “That was fun!” Already Casey recognized Blankenship’s voice. The laughing subsided as the men moved away down the hall. Yeah, Casey thought, it was. He had to agree. “Casey? The showers.” “Yes, sir.” He got up and turned to go, wiping his face and mouth with a towel. Eli scrambled to get the cum-covered pillow, which he threw at Dr. Irving, getting cum all over his lab coat before scampering out of the room, grabbing his clothes. Moster watched as the harried Irving packed up the camera and the lights and left the room, wiping his coat and muttering angrily as he left. What came next Casey couldn’t quite believe. “I’ll join you in the shower in 10 minutes. Get ready for me.” Casey turned back and stared. Moster had crossed to his desk and reached into a drawer for a small vial. He was taking a handful of white caps. He smiled up at Casey. “My guess is that you need a little more intro into what we do here. To relax. Go ahead, Casey. Showers.” “The showers……” Casey repeated dumbly. “Yes. Hit the showers. I’ll join you. I think I need one, too.” Moster stretched, raised his arms behind his back, rotated his massive torso. In his trousers his huge organ shifted lazily. Casey gaped a moment at Moster. “You need a …..?” “A shower. Yes.” “With…..just me?” “I think so. Few things I want to talk about. Privately. Got it?” “Uh….” “Go on then." “Yes, sir!” Casey backed out the door, turned, and and ran down the corridor. Towards the showers. This time, he knew exactly where he was going. February 10th, 2022 2125 Hours Casey was thrilled that an officer as handsome as Ensign Victor was interested in his story. He sat down on the stool opposite Sam and spread his arms out wide. But he paused, perplexed. “What d’ya wanna know?” “Well, do you ever get out?” “Away from here? Sometimes. We’re told to stay away from town, but some of the guys go sometimes. At night. And sometimes we head down to LA.” “LA? Why?” “Some of the men who fund us live there. We show up and demonstrate our progress.” “I see. In a group? All of you at once?” “Occasionally. Usually we, you know, split up. Into smaller groups. And we’re allowed, if we’re discreet, to make private appointments, and we can keep the all money, too.” He stopped, proud. “I’ve made about $30,000. Just in the last six months. They’re keeping it for me.” Sam tried to keep a straight face. “$30,000?” He coughed. “Okay. So ….you hustle?” Casey colored, looked down, and seemed a little mortified. “No, not really. Is it? I guess it is. But some men like to see our muscles in private sessions, and ask us to do….um, things…to them…to show off our strength.” “I can imagine. And they pay you?” “Well, they contribute. And if they want to, um, suck our cocks, or fuck us, or have fuck them, or kiss our buttholes or something, then they have to contribute more.” “Isn’t that hustling?” “Okay, I guess it is. You see, I hadn’t had much experience before then.” “Experience? You mean you’d never had sex with a man before?” “No. Never. Not with anyone. Not until I got here. I still haven’t fucked a girl. They won’t let me. I want to, I guess. I mean, if she likes muscles, I mean, why not? But no, no sex. Not before I got here. But …then…after that – WOW. Like, every day! And I like sucking cock, I guess. And fucking. And I really like fucking tight bubblebutts. And I go nuts when I get worshipped. When littler guys, like you, tell me how big I am. How strong. How muscular. When guys….” He stopped, suddenly mortified. The words had come out in a rush. Maybe he was revealing too much. But Sam was calm. “Go on.” He plunged back in. “I just go crazy. You see…” he paused, now completely beet red with embarrasment, “getting my cock sucked while guys talk about my muscles takes me to……another planet, I guess. I lose all control.” “How?” Sam’s tone was warm, understanding. “I……I guess I get mean. Happy. Nasty. Mean. I mean, I like it. No, that’s not right. I crave it. I crave getting my cock sucked. And I like to show them how strong I am. You know, throw them around a bit. Pick them up. Carry them around, throw them down on the floor, step on them, sit on them. Sit on their faces. It’s easy. And they pay more, too.” Sam leaned in, his voice sympathetic. “You sit on them?” “Yeah….” Casey’s voice was low. “Tell me all about it,” he said. “Okay,” said Casey. He thought back. “It started when they made me start to suck cock. To see if I liked it. And….I did. I do.” And he remembered back to that first night – when he’d first sucked cock. When he’d first sucked all of their cocks, as it happened. He leaned in, and began to talk. How exciting it all was at first…but then how he longed for something more. He knew he could trust Ensign Victor. Sam was, after all, a muscle worshipper. And Casey was close to the best there was. Casey had long dreamed of his very own muscle worshipper. The legend that bodybuilders are aloof and don’t want to be worshipped? Bullshit. Bodybuilders wanted their very own private worshippers just as much as muscle schmoes wanted bodybuilders. If Casey knew anything at all, he knew that. He’d learned it in LA. And now he was going to tell Sam all about it. And then tell Sam that he knew just exactly what he was. And Sam, of course, was all ears, all solicitation and comfort. Even as he felt his own excitement growing. He felt his cock, too, burgeoning in his trousers, until he didn’t think he could stand it much more. But of course, he’d have to stand it. At least until Casey was finished talking. And so, Sam listened. Patiently, as it happened. And Casey talked and talked. As Sam’s cock got stiffer and stiffer.
  25. Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Chapter 19: Further Encounters, Part 1 February 10th, 2022 2050 Hours Sam moved quickly along the corridor. Only a few minutes before, The Twenty had walked this way. Probably still marching in single file, too. He paused for a moment. Which way? He strained to hear something. Beneath him the low rumbling of the compound generators churned the stillness the night. No other sound. To his left was a men’s room. He went in. It was vast and cold and institutional, but strangely it featured - or perhaps it was not so strange - a 20' wall of floor to ceiling, full length mirrors. He gazed at his reflection. “You need a shave, pretty boy,” he said to himself, rubbing his day old stubble. He grinned at himself. Sam Victor was an uncommonly handsome young man. His easy masculinity was accented by his graceful, lean swimmer’s physique. Stripped naked, he was all sinew, abs, tendons, and light, lean muscle. On the street he was used to turning heads, and when he visited his sister in LA a year ago everyone he encountered thought he was a young television star whose name they just couldn’t place. He enjoyed watching them stammer and pretend they recognized him. A trained athlete and all flexibility and power himself, Sam knew full well where his urges led him. He didn’t care, really. Neither did anyone else. A few years back, just 16 and an Annapolis cadet, Sam had learned that what he liked to do just about better than anything on earth was destined both to make him devoted new friends, and at the same time, just might advance his career in the Navy. Sam liked to suck cock. No, he loved to suck cock. He loved the feeling of a man’s erect penis plunging and exploding in his mouth. And he was spectacularly good at sucking cock, too. I’m just a cocksucking pig, he thought with a self-satisfied smile. And he had no compunction about using his dazzling good looks and slightly self-effacing charm to go about getting what he wanted. What he needed, that is. At first furtive and choosy about his partners in the dorm rooms back in his campus days, the word quietly spread that the winning young Junior Varsity swim team captain was unusually talented. Far from creating poisonous issues or problems, his fellow cadets were are first curious, then appreciative, then driven to frenzy when experiencing Sam’s delicately pouting young lips sliding down the poles of their burgeoning manhood for the first time. After swim practice, he could regularly plan on an hour or more of a selection of the Academy’s largest and finest young chlorine-soaked penises plunging powerfully down his throat. Sam’s square young jaw became as strong as his swimmer’s stroke. He could suck steadily and powerfully for hours, and had been known on a number of occasions to steadily service a roomful of 30 of the dorm’s biggest, eagerest cocks for hours into the night. Oddly, it never interfered with his studies. In fact, it helped him to focus. He dreamed at his own reflection. There before him just minutes ago he had been confronted with 20 of the largest cocks he had ever seen in his life, all lined up in a row. And then, there was Casey’s dick. Now there, there, there was a penis one could really get down with. This was a man’s penis. Sam’s mouth watered. In his uniform officer slacks his beautiful blond tool was still rigid with keen and specific intention. He closed his eyes. He envisioned himself working the line-up of those 20 musclemen, moving slowly down the line as he sampled the goods, taking each new man’s heavy penis into his mouth and sucking him languorously to full throated climax – and then moving on to the next. He’d save Casey for last. ***** The officers and Admiral Walrus were gathered at a large conference table in Zaftig’s spacious outer office. The door was closed. “You’re saying, gentlemen,” Zaftig said evenly, “that the United States Government has no investment interest in Project Herculaneum? A revolutionary anti-terrorist program? You astonish me.” Admiral Walrus had regained his composure. He smiled slightly, as if at a private joke. “We don’t see the effectiveness of this project. It’s expensive, time-consuming, a waste of personnel and resources, and, I might add, not just a little weird. To say nothing of the scientific bullshit of it all. Genetic encoding as secret weapon development is the stuff of speculation.” His smile grew a little conciliatory, but his eyes remained hard. “The Pentagon has felt enough public flak about taxpayer cost to know when to back off on initiatives that are both speculative and dubious at best.” “So you’re recommending shutting us down.” “That is my plan.” “Do you concur, Dr. Shaft?” “Well –“ Shaft paused. “Oh, don’t worry, Milton, we’re not closing the doors. Not just yet. You can still come for your monthly personal inspection. The men are always glad to see you.” “We don’t see how we can go anymore with this,” said General Needling. Admiral Walrus shot a look at 1-star Needling. Needling remained still and serene, but said no more. Behind him, Needling’s aide turned beet red and looked down into his lap. “Are these men your personal lab rats?” demanded Walrus. “These men are warriors. They’d do any army proud. They’re skilled in extreme fighting. They can withstand any climate. They follow orders without question.” And they cum three quarts a week, thought Dr. Shaft. Wonder what they'd make of that? “I suspect they’re dumb as rocks.” Walrus said, finishing up. He got to his feet. “We’re done here.” “Not so fast, Admiral." "What else can be said, Zaftig? You've wasted my time. Our time." "I have something to say. You can sit a moment while your cars are called. Can't you?" Zaftig was still serenely confident, as if talking to particularly slow children. "Dr. Shaft?" he added. "I know you don't want to leave. You see the value of the project. Don't you?" Dr. Shaft nodded dumbly. The chiefs sat. Walrus waited impatiently. "Well?" "I didn’t think you’d be willing to see the fighting value of The Twenty," began Zaftig. "As I have said, this project is privately funded. We can keep our doors open for some time to come. In Pentagon terms, of course, our budget is miniscule. Operating costs are about $20 million a year.” “One million per man,” said General Wampum. “Yes, General Wampum, one million per man. At current funding levels, we can stay operative for the next ten years. Our staff is relatively small: the tech security guys you saw along the way, the office staff, admins, medical, reception.” “What about perimeter security?” Zaftig smiled. “Gentlemen, you saw the specimens. The Twenty act as their own security team. No more is needed. Heaven help the Watergate burglar – or burglars - who try to crash our gates. The Twenty would ball them up into scrap paper and shoot baskets.” He turned to Dr. Shaft. “Isn’t that right, doctor?” Shaft nodded weakly. He remembered a punch he had received from Abdul when his fingers strayed too low and without invitation. He was in bed for a week, his jaw wired closed for three months. “So what is it you want?” Walrus demanded to know. “Give me five more minutes, gentlemen, and then I think we’re all ready to retire for the evening. I’ll let you sleep on it. In fact, take a week. Take two.” He leaned in. “Here’s the beauty part of the Twenty.” And the officers listened. ********** Sergeant Rod Moster lay back on his bed in his private quarters, his powerful hands cupped behind his head. He reviewed what had just happened a half-hour before. From what he could see, the first unveiling of Project Herculaneum had been a disaster. The men from the Pentagon were awestruck, yes, but confused, and the brass was dismayed. No doubt basic homophobia triggered. Responses they couldn’t calibrate or predict or understand. Most of them had cum in their trousers, too, at the easy show of strength he’d demonstrated, which couldn’t bode well for the future of the Project. Military men of this rank didn’t acknowledge weakness, and the recognition of probable gayness was probably particularly troubling. He was sure they were all confronting Zaftig with their displeasure in his private office just about now. Zaftig, Moster knew, would be serene and untroubled. He believed in the Project. And he’d probably disclose to them what it was all for. Exactly where it was headed. The moron. He’d fuck the whole thing up. Moster was sure of that. Which was just exactly what he wanted. He stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. This was his moment. He had his own plans. Dr. Shaft was his own personal tool. He’d get what he wanted, what was best for the men, and for himself in particular. It was all going just fine. He felt pretty good. He glanced at his watch. 10:30. Hmmm. Speaking of tool……he hadn’t jacked off for the day yet. A few hours behind schedule. Better get to it. He stood up, slipped out of his t-shirt, unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants to his ankles. His quads bloomed with fierce power. God, he was ripped. He stepped in front of his three-paneled mirror and gazed at himself appreciatively, his hands at his side. My God, I am fucking awesome, he thought, entirely satisfied with what he was seeing. He especially liked the view with his pants down around his ankles. When a bodybuilder pulls his pants down, it’s not just because he wants to show his legs. He wants to show his cock, too. And his was a fearsome machine, barely sheathed in the spandex poser, the sidestraps straining, the string in the back completely exposing granite buttcheeks of extraordinary shape and power. His black physique gleamed with superhuman strength and power. He popped his right pec, then the left, then the right again, in a little dance of muscle joy. He flexed his biceps, two black volleyballs of burgeoning power topped with baseball-hard peaks. He ran the fingers of his left hand down the cables of heavy, thick veins that crisscrossed his right forearm. Not bad. Pretty fucking good, in fact. In fact, the best in the world. No one had muscles like he did. Perfect. He was perfect. He tucked his fists into his abdominal obliques and slowly expanded into a full front lat spread, watching himself appreciatively as he fanned out into full Cinemascope size. Good work. Then he gazed down at his heavy quadriceps, and began to weave the right one back and forth. The mass swayed powerfully, heavily, lazily, right and left, until, Bam! He hardened it into solid ripped muscle. The veins bulged. Each muscle fiber stood out, powerfully feathered. The muscles gleamed. “Nice wheels,” he murmured to himself. He had to admit it. He chuckled softly. His poser, already groaning with the heavy weight of his dick and balls, began to pole outward. His muscles always made him hard – even now, he knew that he was no better than his men, always ready to shoot at the sight of his own muscles. He was ready to grab that pole of his and pump away. He liked to pump his dick while watching himself flex and bloom with huge muscle. He started to slip out of the trunks. His cock popped forth. “Boom,” he said. Time to play. There was a soft knock at the door. He wasn’t expecting any of the men tonight. He paused, the posers taut around his quads, his still flaccid 14-inch penis bobbing heavily outward now, ready for the strong manipulation of his pleasing fingers, ready to expand to its full angry 20 inches. “Who’s there?” he commanded. “It’s us, Sergeant Moster,” called out a timid voice from outside. “Cadets Banks and Taylor, sir.” What the fuck. “What do you want, Cadets?” Moster demanded through the door. “Sir, permission to speak with you a moment,” came a muffled second voice. Moster angrily jerked his posers back up and stuffed his protesting cock back into the pouch. He squatted deeply for a moment, making sure his balls were adequately covered. Then he smiled a little, and slightly pulled down the tops of trunks. The curve of the Spandex hem dipped so that the top 6 inches of his vein-pulsing erect shaft was exposed. Then he reflected. Hmmm. This could be fun after all. That cadet Banks needed some butt discipline, as he recalled. He glanced at his burgeoning manhood in the mirror for a moment. He grabbed a large bath towel and draped it around his iron-forged 29” waist. He took a last glance. Somewhat hidden. But poling outward. Good. Satisfied, Moster crossed the room and opened the door. He stared sternly at two younger cadets. On the threshold of the corridor outside, handsome young Muscle Cadets Brian Banks and Danny Taylor stood respectfully at ease. They were wearing the tight, pale green Valhalla labs t-shirt, the slightly snug regulation khakis and army boots. The two lean young musclemen were just 17, and though their training was going well, they had not yet entered into the ranks of The Twenty. Both trembled slightly at the sudden sight of a mountain of huge black ripped and ready muscle in front of them. But this is what they came for. Each cadet weighed about 198 pounds. Strapping, black-haired Brian Banks, with his greaser’s sideburns trimmed to the bare standard of military propriety, was naturally hairy and overly tattooed. He also smoked. These were things of which Moster definitely did not approve – any covering of muscle was a sin to him, and smoking anathema – and Banks had only been permitted into the program based upon his superb symmetry, round muscle bellies, natural leanness, and firm little butt. In his favor, he had become concerned about his tats, once a source of much pride, and as a result he was usually heavily covered in sweatsuit baggies all through the punishing workouts he was propelling himself through. He kept his body shaved as closely and as often as he could, but it wasn’t enough to stop the black stubbles of body hair from sprouting anew all over his thick chest and washboard abs by the end of every evening. If he missed a day shaving, by night of the second day he was covered once again with short, black, soft fur. Even so, the hair wasn’t enough to cover the rippling, hard-trained muscles. He smoked whenever he could, usually alone. Moster knew this. He knew everything about these men. He made sure of that. Banks was unusually good looking, and looking unusually good. While no huge bodybuilder, he was big, ripped, muscular, masculine, vascular, and packing some power in his khakis. He had been making nice progress. He also clearly hadn’t shaved his body for a few days. Moster could see a thick crop of black curly chest hair poking over the top of his crew neck collar. But not enough hair to obscure his deep pec cleavage. Prettty good. Taylor, no less disciplined, and looking no less than his buddy Banks, was all the same a different story. Lifting from the age of 14 and yet a rich boy by birth, the surfer-blond bland California pretty boy Taylor had rebelled against his Santa Barbara-entrenched mom and dad, who were shocked by their son’s growing muscles, having foreseen a very different life for him. By the time he was inducted into The Program, he had been living woefully in his car for almost six months on a street behind Raw Weight Gym in the heart of San Jose, 30 miles south. He lived only for training. Sometimes he hustled when he had to. Zaftig had come looking for him on a tip from the gym manager Miles Donovan, always on the payroll looking out for new talent. Superheavyweight Taylor, he told Zaftig, sports serious quads for one so young, and has impressively hard, round gluteus muscles, which he pumps endlessly at the end of his punishing leg workouts. Donovan ended his report with an observation that the dreamy-eyed muscleboy appeared to be trying to find something, feel something new, as he went through his deep squat routines. Zaftig had him off the streets and in the program within 24 hours. In no time the two young cadets had befriended one another. They trained together, showered together, and often were seen having lunch together privately in the cafeteria, respectfully apart from the other cadets. It was generally known that there were many after-hours visits as well. And though it was generally not known, on a few occasions, they had even been permitted to join their heroes, Alvarez and Lang, in their late night pose-and-approve sessions. “What is it, cadets?” Moster demanded. He towered over them. They glanced at one another nervously. Banks, far brighter than the dim, uncertain Taylor, spoke. “Sir, we’re friends with Casey Rockland, sir, and we were….uh….” “Yes?” “Sir, we heard in the barracks you might have been a little upset by this evening’s presentation, sir, and we wanted to come by to pay our respects. And express our belief and dedication in the project. Sir. For. In.” He paused, confused. “Yeah. That’s it,” added Tayler. “Do I look upset?” He whipped the towel away. The cadets each glanced down involuntarily and took in Sergeant Moster’s hugely protruding erection, poling out stiff and heavy and now less than a quarter covered by the straining poser Spandex. They stared. Taylor gulped. “God-damn!” he breathed, taking an involuntary step forward. “It’s even bigger than you said!” Banks nudged him hard. Taylor stepped back. “No, sir, you do not look upset, sir.” Banks’ eyes flickered down again timidly at Moster’s manmeat for an instant, and he spoke again, lifting his eyes and staring steadily with respectful determination into his CO’s eyes. “In fact, I would say you appear to be very relaxed, sir.” “Relaxed?” Moster let out a huge laugh. “You call this relaxed?” he asked mockingly, one hand sweeping wide presentationally before his heavy stiff penis. He shifted his weight onto one knee, leaned on the doorframe, and placed a fist on his hip, tilting his body powerfully. He rotated his lower body in a small semi-circle, and the throbbing 20-inch cock waggled pendulously from side to side inside his sagging posers. “Well, no sir, not really….” Banks stared hungrily at the pumping veins of Moster’s exposed cock shaft, dipping powerfully into the translucent Spandex. “What would you two boys say this looks like?” “Sir, it looks as if you have an uncommonly large hard-on, sir.” “It’s quite a woody, sir.” Taylor finally managed to get out. “Yes, it is. I was just about to get to work on it when you boys both come back banging on my door after hours and prevented me from doing so.” “Sir, we’re sorry, sir. Shall we go, sir?” Moster leaned on the doorframe, considering a moment. He raised a finger and twirled it. “Turn around,” he commanded. The cadets glanced at one another, and both turned clockwise. Moster looked them over appraisingly. Hmmmm. Two fine young butts. As if both boys could read Moster’s thoughts, both Taylor and Banks arched their backs slightly and pushed their inviting round blue-jeanned rears out an inch or two, as if pleading. Please. Fuck our butts. Or so it seemed. It was an appealing sight. And tonight, Banks also knew that Sergeant Moster’s massive, calloused palm would be itching. Ready to apply some special, deserved punishment to their aching bottoms. Moster reached out and grabbed Banks by the shoulders, who lost his balance and stumbled backward into the room. “Get in here, both of you,” he commanded. He hauled Taylor into the room as well and slammed the door. He turned to them, noting they were now trembling with fear and excitement. “Now suppose you tell me why you’re really here.” ********* I’m going to suck those musclemen’s cocks like there’s no tomorrow, Sam thought dreamily. I’ll give them all something they’ll never forget… Then he remembered the left hook comment. Suddenly his jaw ached from an imagined shattering punch of retribution from a stern Casey. “And there might be no tomorrow,” he acknowledged to himself, shuddering with a little giddy fear. He’d weather two black eyes and a broken jaw – and his jaw wired shut and no cocksucking for months - for a chance to get his lips wrapped around that monster, even if only for a moment. Well, for maybe more than just a moment. Maybe longer. An hour? And Casey had stared back at him. Suddenly Sam understood it. My God, thought Sam. No one has had him yet. This boy’s cherry. He couldn’t believe it, but it must be true. And what’s more, he believed that Casey had figured out in his dim brain just what Sam knew. That look had been too telltale. Casey massive organ had never yet been sucked, nor found a home in a delightfully yielding butt. And a good man’s mouth and warm, enveloping butthole were just what this musclepup needed. Sam, of course, was just the ticket. If he was no longer choosy about whose cock he sucked, and where, or when – he had sucked off a whole motorcycle gang in a dank bar just last month, and walked out calmly when they started to fight over who was next – he was very particular about the cock that entered his butthole. He was no cherry himself, to be sure, but in his 22 years he’d only allowed five men to fuck him. No, six. Seven? Nine? Fourteen? Okay, so he couldn’t remember. Years back he’d lost count of how many cocks he’d sucked. 700? 1,523? Probably more. Sam just couldn’t get enough of a good thing. But if he’d give it up for life for that one stupendously big cock. Casey Rockland. Man. What a god this kid was. And – 20? He walked over to the urinal, unzipped, and pulled out his own dick. He pissed thick ropes, inspecting his own golden machine. Not huge. Just big. Only about 8 inches at full attention. True, bigger than most. But – beautiful? Beautiful was not even the word. Sam’s dick was perfect. It was a work of art. And he was choosy here, too, about who got to suck his gorgeous tool. So far he’d only allowed six men the privilege. Fourteen? Okay, maybe more. He shook the last dribbles of piss from his magnificent cock and tucked it back into his pants. He zipped up. It bloomed nicely in the fly and folded alluringly in the folds of his slacks. Hmmm. Eight inches? Not tonight. More like nine and a half. He turned and walked to the door, and in his pants, his bulge swaying confidently in his trousers in happy anticipation. He was a man on a mission. What’s more, he was even under orders. Sweet. It was all so sweet. He pushed the door open and returned to the corridor. Casey was standing outside, just 10 feet away. Clearly, he was waiting for the Ensign. He shuffled his feet, looked uncertain. The two men stared at each other. A moment passed. “Um. Hi,” Casey said shyly. "Hello," said Sam, completely confident. This was going to be fun. "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2
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