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  1. Omnipotence

    My roommate is a god (parts 1 - 4)

    Hello everyone. Long time viewer/reader, first-time writer. A little nervous about it, so any and all constructive feedback is welcome! This part is really only meant to be a taster of sorts. I'm 110% open to change. Let me know what you think; super excited that I'm finally contributing! Without further ado: __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 1: Tom was hovering in midair. He casually motioned his hands back and forth, as if he was conducting some sort of invisible orchestra. In reality, he was using his telekinesis to clean the living room effortlessly and in record time. Empty pizza boxes were pulled upward by an invisible force where they were instantly vaporized into nothingness. Stains off all varieties were simply removed from existence. Empty soda cans were melted into liquid form, which was then dispersed into the surrounding atmosphere. And throughout it all, Tom wasn't even looking at any of it. He was staring absentmindedly out the window. Such was the ease of this godly display of power that he didn't even need to devote his full attention to it. I simply sat and watched his nonchalant display of power with my usual awe. I suppose I could've helped, but how the hell is a measly little human like me supposed to add to this?! Within a minute of initiating the clean, Tom was finished. He turned in midair, hover over to the couch, and lowered himself down onto it. "All done" he said with a smile. His voice was impossibly beautiful and sexy. A deep baritone, masculine voice. "Thanks" I said, trying to pretend I wasn't intimidated my his godhood. Probably wasn't working though. Tom could just read my mind if he wanted to. "Want me to send you to sleep now?" Tom asked, his remarkable blue eyes filling me with a sense of comfort and safety as we made eye contact. I knew what he meant, and what he intended to do. With my mouth instantly going dry, and my body shaking from anticipation, all I could do was nod feebly. Tom stood up, walked to the center of the room, and turned to face me. With a simply wave of his hand, all of his clothes except for his form fitting, jet-black briefs disintegrated. His godly muscles were on display. Tom was 6'8'', and when he wasn't altering his density of using his flight power, he would normally weigh around 300 - 320 pounds. I began working my way down. His shoulders were massive. Powerful, rippling masses the size of cinder-blocks, with prominent traps that my whole hand could just barely cover. His pecs were next. Each one was the vision of perfection. Slabs of concrete; almost perfectly square, beefy, and large enough to cup. Like everything else, they rippled. He bounced them effortlessly, yet could also make them rock-solid at a moment's notice. His whole chest: 60'' His arms were of a similar make. Massive, 25'' machines that I've seen lifting impossible weights. Veins running through them, looking like steel cables, running down into his formidable looking forearms. His biceps and triceps were equally beautiful. His abs were the definition of beauty. A rippling, rock-hard eight pack, where each individual ab was arrogantly prominent, and the deep cuts that ran between them only emphasized how sculpted they were. Although I couldn't see if from where I sat, I have seen his back. His perfect, v-shaped back. Powerful mounds and ridges of muscle covering it all, guiding you slowly to his 33'' waist. And lets not forget to mention the glutes that it leads to. Two bulletproof hemispheres of pure muscle (and no, I'm not exaggerating). His legs put tree trunks to shame. 31'' thighs corded with titanium veins, towering above 24'' diamond-shaped calves. All of this balancing on bizarrely beautiful, size 15 feet. Of course, as a god, Tom's whole body was free of all forms of blemishes and other such imperfections. His skin was smooth and supply; an easily missed detail on account of the muscle that lay beneath. At the moment he had no body hair, although he could if he wanted to. But he wanted to make sure that I could see every striation, every subtle flex as clearly as possible. And so the light dusting of hair that sometimes coated his chest and forearms was willed out of existence. "Ready?" he said, smirking. I would try to describe the beauty of his face, but I don't think the necessary words actually exist. I gulped. Without taking his eyes off of me, he bounced his pecs. It was effortless for him. All other parts of his body stayed motionless; only his magnificent pecs moved. Their dance became increasingly complex; the two mounds moving to a rhythm like no other. Sometimes they bounced in unison, sometimes one at a time, and sometimes they alternated. My cock was as hard as stone. Suddenly, without warning, Tom tensed his abs. My description of them before described them in a non-flexed state. Imagine now what they looked like. Pre-cum soaked my pants. I hadn't even touch myself yet. And I knew I wasn't going to. Tom hit me next with a double biceps. Their peaks! If he had flexed just a bit harder they would've sent out a shock wave. His most muscular was next. His pecs... I began to convulse; my cock couldn't contain my arousal anymore. I came. He made me, without either of us touching it. Such was the beauty of his body and face. He smiled sweetly at me as I slowly began to lose consciousness from the strength of the orgasm. With a single hand and arm, Tom grabbed a fistful of my shirt's collar and smoothly lifted me from the couch. My 5'9'' frame dangled pathetically as he held me at arm's length with such ease. He bent his arm as he slowly brought me in from a kiss on the forehead, still holding me in the air all the while. His other arm simply hung at his side. Throughout all of this, my cock was still sputtering out small amounts of cum, dampening my already soaked underpants and jeans. "Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning" he whispered in my ear, as I finally lost complete consciousness from the orgasm. I passed out at the end of Tom's arm; he still held me as if I weighed the same as a balloon. The last thing I remember was the feel of my own feet dangling in the air. My arms hanging limp at my sides. My chin brushing the side of Tom's hand that gripped my shirt's collar before my head fell to the side. My whole body rendered weak and useless from the hundred orgasms Tom caused me to have in the space of a minute. I loved that feeling. My name is Frank, and this is the story of how I came to meet my roommate Tom. Who, by the way, happens to be an actual god.
  2. MuscleLvr321

    Great Genetics

    The sun shone through my bedroom window, illuminating everything in its path in a warm, yellow glow. The rays bathed my bed, and me along with it. The sudden pleasure of warm sunlight slowly and peacefully woke me up. A smile grew on my face; another day of being perfect. I stretched with a sense of pleasure and satisfaction as my incredible, chiselled physique was warmed by the sun’s light. It was for exactly this reason that I did away with any sheet or quilt. I wanted to be woken like this; by the sun that made my Adonis body shine. First, my feet. Size fifteens. And if they give you any idea of the rest of me, they were both beautiful and powerful looking. The tendons themselves looking like machine parts, rather than human parts. Next, my calves. Twin diamond-shaped, diamond-hard beauties. Each one too big for a normal man’s hand to full engulf. Whenever I walked they bunched, hardened, and flexed. My quads are up next. Massive. Powerful. Godly. The ripples of the muscles, and the ridges that ran through and around them. Complimented by a network of veins that looked like lightning bolts, some of which faded down into my lower legs and calves. Above these tree-trunk sized miracles was my remarkably narrow waist. Narrow in comparison to the rest of me, that is. Currently resting on one side of my waist were all seven inches of my flaccid manhood. And trust me, when I wanted, I could give way more inches than that. Just above this intimidating python was what could be mistaken as a cobblestone pathway. On second glance, you would clearly see that it was just an insanely defined, flawless eight-pack. Each ab a clear dome, separated by all others by deep cuts that could each easily hold a bit water. And that was before I tensed or flexed. Flanking these eight rocks were some more-than-impressive obliques. Wave-like muscles that, like the quads, rippled dutifully. It was as if they wanted me to look more beautiful than I already was. Above my abs were the two reasons why I couldn’t see my abs. Two almost square-like slabs of what felt like titanium. And yet, I could bounce and jiggle both as if they were made of a softer clay. Better known as my pecs, these bulbous, meaty marvels were kept apart by a narrow crevasse that ran between them. On either side of these two steel-hard pieces of beef were my boulder shoulders. Like my calves, no normal man could ever hope to fit a whole hand around one. Too big, too muscular, too vascular. Hanging from them were they most powerful, strongest pair of arms you’ll ever see. Biceps that formed into perfect peaks that rivalled cement in terms of solidity, followed my forearms that exuded strength, and ending with a pair of hands that could easily fit around my calves and shoulder. And don’t forget the criss-cross of veins that mapped my forearms, and that one delicious vein that runs down each bicep. The one that every gym rat longs to see; the definitive proof that one has achieved muscle. I roll over onto my front so that the opposite side of me can enjoy some few minutes of warmth before I get up. My expansive, rippling back swells in delight at the feel of the warmth. My back alone is literally heavier than most average men. My triceps, second only to my biceps, both unleash a powerful flex as they help me turn over. And finally my ass. The two delectable globes of prime beef. Just like my pecs, I could bounce them with ease, and on a moment’s notice. Once I decided that I was adequately warmed up, I rolled back over and got out of them bed. All seven feet of my rose to my full height. Aside from the lush locks that flowed from scalp, and the uber-masculine stubble that coated my gorgeous face, I was completely hairless. All of my godly definition was as clear as the day outside. Plus, not a single blemish. Ever. I didn’t get them. Already my seven inches were approaching nine as I flexed my body, and took the time to feel myself up. Hard, sold, powerful, strong. I had great genetics. And I haven’t even told you about my strength yet. I threw on a pair of red boxer shorts that were stretched thin over my quads (despite being the largest size the store had to offer). My heavy footsteps resonated as I marched with a sense of power and authority from my room to the kitchen. My muscles all the while flexing, tensing, bunching. You would not want to be in my way! “Moring pops”, I say as I entered the kitchen and saw that he was already making me breakfast. Poor Dad. I guess genetics have a way of skipping generations. “Morning big buddy!” said my dad, genuinely excited and thrilled to see me. And even more thrilled to see me in just boxer shorts. Dad was a normal man. Little to no obvious muscle, balding, a bit of a flabby beer belly, the makings to a double chin, and a body with hair and blemishes. But a kind heart, and all the love a dad had for his son. He himself was wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, both of which were noticeably loose on him. I approached him, took a handful of the back of his shirt collar, and smoothly lifted him off the ground until his bare feet were left dangling over a foot off the ground. Dad was 5’10’’, and about 150 pounds. But to me, that was nothing. He might as well have been ten times that weight, and I still wouldn’t have noticed. I gave him a kiss on his head. “Pancakes?! Fuckin’ A old timer!” I said gleefully, eyeing the mountain of pancakes that Dad had made specifically for me. I ate like a dozen horses after all. “My big man needs to eat” he said, looking on at my perfect, angular face with pride in his eyes. Of course he was still dangling in my grasp. He casually swung his legs back and forth a small bit as I surveyed the pancakes, enjoying the feel of being held off the ground. “I’ll take all of those” I said, gesturing to at least ninety percent of the pancakes, “You’ll have whatever is left”. “Yes son” said Dad. Dad always did what I said. Like I good beta, he knew who the alpha was. I set him gently back down onto the floor. Not because my arm was getting tired, but because I wanted him to get back to work. “You’re looking especially amazing today son” he said, tracing his fingers over my steel abs. I didn’t need to tense them. Even in their un-tensed state Dad didn’t have a hope of denting them. His fingers, to me, felt so small and fragile. I smiled down at him, as I towered above him. “I’m guessing there’s something you want” I said, smiling wryly at him. “Eh…I’d like to buy some new clothes…” he said, nervously looking up at me, a hopeful and bashful grin on his face. I controlled the finances, even though Dad was the one with a job. “Go on” I said, crossing my arms. In doing so, my spectacular pecs ballooned into two globes of pure power, while my forearms flare in terms of both muscle and veins. For good measure I flexed my legs too, just to complete the image of the god looking down upon the weak man. “Just some new jeans and a scarf. October is just around the corner...don’t wanna be cold now, do I…” he said, looking a little more nervous by the sight of my stance. He knew of course that I would never hurt him, but it was still fun to laud some power over him. “As long as you don’t spend more than a hundred. I want more food in this house before the end of the week” I said, patting Dad affectionately on the head. “Yes!” exclaimed Dad triumphantly, “Absolutely son, no more than a hundred”. After I consumed my feast of a breakfast at an alarming rate, I headed out into the back garden for some early morning light exercise while Dad got to the cleaning. I approached a beaten down looking SUV. No bothering to stretch (because I didn’t need to), I squatted down, grabbed the SUV at two points along its underside, and stood back up. The entire vehicle came with me. I began to curl the SUV like it was nothing more than a fifty bound barbell. I was only doing this just for the sake of waking my body up. I actually began to daydream a small bit as I effortlessly pumped the vehicle up and down. It used to belong to Dad, before he got a new one. He was more than happy to let me have it. After a few minutes of this, I dropped the SUV with a bang. I sighed as I looked down at it, bored by its inability to stimulate my imagination. However, my arms had flared up with an almost inhuman pump. Thanks to my genetics, only the smallest amount of exercise was necessary for me to maintain by perfect physiques, and the superhuman strength that lay within. Out of sheer boredom I began to poke holes in the SUV’s exterior with just my index finger. I did find it satisfying to watch my finger sink in and out of the metal like it was a hot knife carving through butter. At one point I simply grabbed a handful of a door and easily tore it off the vehicle completely. I amused myself as I mangled and deformed the lump of metal in my hand, like an infant would manipulate playdough. “Looking good Jake!” called out a voice from behind me. I turned to see Mr. Roberts standing on his side of the fence that separated my house’s garden from his. Mr. Roberts was an elderly, kind man who had lived next door all my life. He had watched me grow, and always took the time to compliment me on my body and strength. “Hi Mr. Roberts” I said as I swaggered my way over to them fence. I made sure to flex my muscles as I walked, just to demonstrate the level of power that was approaching him. Not to mention that fact that I was still crushing and mangling the metal lump in my hand like a stress ball. “Well look at you!” said Mr. Roberts as he surveyed my glorious body. I was still only wearing my boxers, so pretty much everything could be easily seen. “Yeah, just doing a bit of weight training” I said, and started bouncing my pecs as I looked down at them. Instead of a light jiggle, I opted for a more vigorous bounce. It always amazed even me how still the rest of my body was as my pecs danced. “Stunning” whispered Mr. Roberts in a reverent tone as he reached over the fence to place one of his small, feeble hands on the nearest pec. He had always loved the smoothness of my muscles. And I never had a problem with him feeling any damn part of me that he wanted. “So how are you this morning, Mr. Roberts?” I asked, striking a front lat spread for his entertainment. “Good” he said as he ran his fingers along one of my biceps. I switched to a most muscular to help accommodate his desire to worship my arms. “But I was hoping that you’d be available to help me with something” he said, as he placed his hand in mine. Mr. Roberts always enjoyed holding my hand, probably because they were so warm, and he was more vulnerable to the cold. “Sure” I said, closing my whole hand around his gently, running my thumb lightly over the back. “I was hoping you could turn my car around for me. In my old age I’ve become…less able for precise reversing” he said, and we both laughed. From a standing position, I bent my knees, flexed both my quads and calves, and cleared the four-foot fence in a single bound, landing perfectly on the other side beside Mr. Roberts. “Goodness me!” he said, beaming at my display of athleticism, and delighted that I was now that bit closer to him. I took his hand gently in mine, and allowed him to lead me to his car that was parked at the side of his house. I couldn’t help but notice just how small and weak he was. He was short than Dad, and no doubt frail from old age. We were walking so slowly because of him. “Here Mr. Roberts” I said, as I effortlessly scooped the man up into one of my arms. He gasped as my casual display of strength. “Save your energy” I said, as I nestled him into my powerful chest. “Thank you Jake” he said with a tone of sincerity, and began to run a hand over my pecs once again. Once we got to his car, I gently set him down and gave him a quick hug, enveloping him in my powerful arms (which he happily felt up during the hug). “Now then” I said. I approached the car and promptly hauled the front half off the ground with a single tug of my left arm. I could hear Mr. Roberts gasp again behind me. I walked my hand along the bottom of the vehicle, slowly raising the back half, until the entire thing was above my head. A quick one-eighty degree turn, and it was facing the way Mr. Roberts wanted it to be. I easily and gently place the car back on the ground. Mr. Roberts was standing there, slack-jawed from the sight of my superhuman strength. Not to mention that his pants was tenting; impressive for a man of his age. I decided to help him out. Side-chest. Double biceps. Front lat spread followed by a back lat spread. Another pec bounce. Every single bit of exquisite curvature and masculine sex appeal my body had to offer I put in display for Mr. Roberts. My muscles flared and flexed with power and beauty. I turned my back to him and began twerking. My bulbous glutes bounced sensually. Not even my skin-tight boxers could hold them down. I ended the routine with another side chest. I then marched towards Mr. Roberts with supreme confidence. Mr. Roberts was shaking, still slack-jawed, and in awe of my appearance. He was leaving out this low, continuous moaning sound. I placed my large hands on his scrawny shoulders. I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Cum for me”. Mr. Roberts let out a moan of ecstasy as a large, dark wet patch appeared at the front of his trousers. I fell forward into my arms which easily supported him. By the sounds (and feel) of it, he was experiencing multiple orgasms. I carried his limp and exhausted body into his house, and laid him down gently onto his living room sofa. His feeble hands took one last feel of my muscles (my shoulders and triceps to be exact) before he finally passed out, and began to sleep peacefully. His trousers were completely soaked. I left his house and headed back towards the SUV, leaping over the fence once again. Damn it felt good to have great genetics.
  3. Hello! First time posting, but please leave suggestions/critiques. I work in a creative profession IRL, so I can take it. This is chapter 1 of ... well, at least a few more. It focuses on pectorals, but also features general muscle worship, situational/encounter eroticism, a bit of hairy guy appreciation, and likely very little actual sex. Just a warning if tha's what you're here for. One final note: When the main character says "God, he's so American", I don't mean it at all derogatorily—I'm just Aussie, and anyone else who's not American knows what I'm talking about Contents Chapter 1 (below) — 5th Dec 2020 Chapter 2 — 7th Dec 2020 Chapter 3 — 22nd Dec 2020 Chapter 1 It was just past 2am, the airport’s air conditioning was sputtering feebly overhead, and I had just stumbled off a 7-hour flight from Melbourne into the humid, sticky Malaysian air. I’d needed a damn leak so badly. I’d dragged myself through the empty terminal, staggered into the a vaguely toilet looking place, and pushed into the first cubicle I could reach. All I could even think about was pissing. I couldn’t tell, and frankly didn’t even care, if I was in the men’s or not. Well, I wouldn’t have been able to tell, had it not been for the absolutely enormous muscle man who filled the tiny toilet cubicle into which I’d just barged. He was staring at me, open mouthed, and I was staring at him. Or rather, I was staring alternately at his lean, tanned face, and at his throbbing dick, which he held in his veiny hand as it spewed cum all over his torso. And fucking hell that was one huge torso. He was incredible: he had skin like paper, which barely contained the masses of his bulging pecs and arms. He had balloon-like shoulders, pressing against the walls of the cubicle, and deeply cut abs. And into those abs, deep, hard, abs that were competition-ready and shredded as hell, dripped thick spurts of hot white cum. Both of us seemed to come to our senses simultaneously. I stumbled backwards, out of the cubicle, and he leant forward to close the door. But, in that moment, his dick gave one last a spurt, and jet of his hot cum landed squarely on my face. He froze, horrified. I blinked, once, twice, then backed out further and awkwardly hauled myself into the cubicle next door. And I just sat there, shorts on, with his still-warm cum on my face, hard as a rock. Slowly, I wiped off the cum, manoeuvred my shorts down over my erect dick, and tried to think of something, anything, other than the muscle monster just centimetres away from me. There was no way I could piss with a dick that hard. I just couldn’t get his image out of my mind: pecs the size of my head, biceps like mangoes, abs and obliques like a fucking washboard, huge meaty thighs totally swallowing the toilet seat. And literally in the next toilet cubicle! After what felt like hours, I heard a rustling of toilet paper, the flush of the toilet, and a hurried pulling up of shorts. The door unlocked (I couldn’t help imagine his massive, powerful arms flexing and absolutely overpowering that tiny metal lock), a tap ran briefly (I thought about his huge, heavy pecs pressed together, and the cleavage they would make, as he brought his hands together under the warm water), and finally the sound of flip flops faded into the distance (I imagined being a tiny pad of rubber, stood on by his massive man, his huge tree-trunk legs jostling as he leaves the bathroom). It must have been about 10 minutes, and multiple ejaculations, before I was even able to get a dribble of piss out. I was definitely awake now. Fuck. I flushed the toilet and went to clean my face and wash my hands, but still his image consumed my mind. What would it be like to be as massive as that? To feel the weight of so much muscle just hanging off your frame? To have people look at you like a freak? To have pecs and biceps so big that you can’t even touch your shoulders. I pondered this, admittedly with a raging boner in my shorts, as I left the bathroom and started to slowly amble towards our gate, where Dave, my research partner, would be waiting. Thank God there was no one else around. Other than Dave, who was very straight, I hadn’t physically seen another man, let alone hooked up with one, in months, having just come up from a research station down off the coast of Tassie. I couldn’t believe that, of all the men to see in a deserted airport, it would be one so gargantuan and freakish. I prayed that if God existed, the massive muscle man would be sitting near us, so that I could ogle him while we waited until our connecting flight tomorrow afternoon. As I approached the gate, I realised two things: one, perhaps the terminal wasn’t quite as deserted as I’d thought. Two, I had had no need to pray. All around us, strewn almost like toys across every seat and floor area, was dozens of freakishly muscular men. Most of them were asleep, and all of them were shirtless, in a what I assumed was a vain attempt to escape the humid February night air. There were smaller guys, lightweights, who were insanely cut but whose muscles weren’t outrageous and bulging (yet). Medium sized guys who had a fair bit of size, but still could probably fit into a suit. And then massive guys, so big that they took up multiple airport lounge seats with their shoulders alone, or entire walkways with their mass. All of them looked just days out from competing, and a few of them even had their posing straps visibly poking out under their tiny gym shorts. And then there was Dave, looking very out of place in his red hoodie, perched on a seat in the far corner of the lounge, with his phone plugged in to the wall. He looked up and beckoned me over with a faintly annoyed look on his face. “Who the fuck are all these guys?” I whispered as I sat down next to him. “No idea; they were here when I arrived. Either way, they’re taking up all the power points.” “Right.” I looked around, still not quite able to believe my luck, that this was real life. Just across from us, a young guy with a blond buzzcut and crazy broad shoulders and an incredibly lean, ripped midriff, lay with his chin pressing into his chest. Next to him, a slightly older guy with dark hair and perfect, tanned skin was watching a movie as he lay with his head on the armrest. I could see his perfect, tight biceps flexing as he held the phone to his face with his right arm, and absent-mindedly rubbed his hard, tight abs with the other. I considered staying up to continue to appreciate the scenery, but it was almost 3am and my eyes were really feeling it. “I might get some sleep. Can you watch our stuff?” “Sure; I’ve got some emails to finish, anyway” he replied, eyes already back on his phone screen. “Thanks.” The guy sleeping in the seat next to me had his arm (a massive, veiny arm thicker than my head, I might add) on the arm rest, so I leant back and away to face Dave (that much muscle in my face would have been hugely distracting), and drifted off to sleep. *** I’m back in the toilets, standing in the doorway and staring hungrily at the massive guy sitting in front of me. He’s just cummed all over his gorgeous abs and heaving pecs, and he’s asking me to clean it up for him. I submit, of course, almost ripping my shirt off as I move forwards to “clean up”. I get down on my knees, place my hands on his enormous, quivering, veiny thighs, and start to lick the cum off his abs. I work my tongue into every groove, and make sure to polish off every rock hard ab, every delicious, smooth oblique. I move up to his pecs, where some of the cum has landed in his cleavage and onto his under-pec. I lift them up one at a time (fuck they’re heavy) and lick all around the crease where his massive mounds of muscle join to his torso. As I lift them, I feel his still-hard dick pulse and slap against my abs, and he moans slightly in ecstasy. I let his pecs fall and hit my face, then gently move my hands up and pull apart those bulging, striated pec mounds to lick in between them. He arches his back, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his dick into me. I’ve almost cleaned all the cum from between them; I just need to pull them a little wider. They’re so big and round, I can barely get my face in between them. I dig further into the canyon, and all of a sudden he flexes, involuntarily, and cums all over again. My face is trapped between his enormous pecs, and his cum is spurting onto my chin. I’m cumming, too, firing onto his thigh and while I pound the huge, hard mounds on his chest. Is that laughter? He releases my face, and although cum is still firing from his dick, he’s laughing. My hands are still firmly clasped onto the mounds of muscle on his chest—how is this funny? I each for the toilet paper, and— I woke up and opened my eyes with a start. Dave was asleep next to me, and his mouth hung wide open as he quietly snored. It was only early morning, but already the air was in the low 30s. I looked around sluggishly for the laughter that ruined my dream. Ah, there. A few rows of seats in front of us, a group of muscle guys were laughing and cheering whilst three or four of their mates were wrestling. I guessed this was worth being woken up for. Almost all of them were shirtless, wearing nothing but gym shorts or briefs and flip flops, and every single one of their beautiful, cut physiques was on display. A few rows further on, some of the bigger guys were posing for each other. Each one would get up, covered in sweat (the air conditioner had finally given up), run through his posing routine, and then a couple of the others would get up and adjust an arm here, foot positioning there. I watched for a while as they cycled through poses and physiques, big and small, tall and short. I was just about to get up and fill my water bottle when he got up and posed. The guy from the bathroom. For the first time, I noticed his face, his gorgeous cut jawline with a day’s worth of growth, his deep brown eyes and short, wavy hair. And, in the early morning light, he looked even bigger. Every single muscle was outrageous in size and definition. He hit a double bicep, and his arms eclipsed his head in size. A front lat spread, where his torso grew wider than it was tall. A most muscular, his gigantic biceps fighting for space with his huge chest and his traps almost swallowing his neck. Finally, to finish, a side chest, where the sheer amount of mass on his chest spilled out in all directions. He looked bigger than Arnold, with so much muscle just stuffed into his chest. I couldn’t believe how big his pecs were, and how thick and round and powerful they looked. They looked like they were ready to pop. When he hit that beautiful side chest, all the guys around him cheered. He relaxed from the pose, and his pecs fell to their natural, full, round state on his chest. God, they looked so huge and heavy, almost obscuring his abs with their mass and shadow. A few of guys got up and surrounded him, laughing and congratulating him. One or two playfully punched him in the chest, or put a hand on the ridge of muscle that was his lower pec. Everyone was absolutely enamoured by this superhuman pec freak. Next to me, Dave stirred and sat up slightly. He looked over at the flex-off, then at me, and finally to the massive, wet tent in my pants. “Really?” he asked with a sigh. “Look, I need something to do for the next 5 hours! It’s been ages since I’ve had any eye candy, and they’re right there…” “You could work on that sea floor geographic analysis, like you said you would on the flight over.” “Or, I could analyse the geography of their gorgeous bodies” “Dude, you need a boyfriend” he laughed. “Yup, I do. And hanging around a married straight man isn’t going to help me” “Hey, you said yourself you were into me when we met” It’s true, I sort of was. I had a weakness for fit, hairy guys, and Dave was both. He was only in his 20s, but he had a nice, full physique with definition, even if he was on the small side. He looked like he worked out, but only to keep fit, rather than to show off like these guys. And he had gorgeous blond-brown hair that gradated into gold on his chest, forearms and legs. Fuck, his legs were hairy. They looked great in the early morning sun, where his tanned, fit calves were framed in a halo of glowing thick fur that coated his legs right up to the bottom of his shorts. While he’d been asleep, he’d slipped further off the chair, and his shorts were riding right up into his crotch. Somehow, his meaty, toned thighs were even hairier than his lower legs. Too bad he was both very straight, and taken. “Psh, you wish. Anyway, I’m going to get some water” “Can you fill my bottle too?” he asked as handed me his water bottle. Fucking hell, his hairy forearms looked good in the sun. “Yeah, sure”. I took his bottle and started over to the central walkway, stepping around the odd pile of sleeping muscle and sweat as I went. I walked back down towards the toilets, past the flex-off that inexplicably was still going on. There were only so many poses you can do, and so many muscles you can pump up, but these guys couldn’t seem to get enough. I could almost smell the testosterone leaking off their pumped, sweaty bodies. They seemed to enjoy appreciating each other’s bodies, acknowledging all the hours they’d put in at the gym to look the way they did, and competing for who was the most muscular, masculine of them all. I’d almost reached the drinking water taps when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, ready to tell Dave that, yes, I knew you couldn’t drink the water from the bathroom taps. But there instead, standing slightly taller than me, was the guy from the bathroom. “Hey, I, um, just, uh, wanted to, you know, apologise? For, uh, last night?” he offered, almost as if he wasn’t used to being embarrassed or bashful. I guess that with muscles like his, you get used to being supremely confident. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I should have, you know, checked if the cubicle was occupied or something” He grinned, and scratched the back of his head. Fucking hell, how did he even reach his neck, with biceps so huge? “Nah, it’s alright. I should have locked the door.” Ah, there was that confidence that that body demanded. “I’m Ash, by the way. Ash Forte.” “Travis” I smiled politely. I don’t know why he was telling me his last name, but I was definitely going to use that name to spend all my free airport WiFi googling him. In that moment, I also began to understand how straight guys feel when they try to avoid staring at women’s tits—Ash’s massive pecs were uncomfortably prominent. “So, where’re you headed, Travis?” God, he was so American and so easily friendly. If I’d just cummed on a stranger’s face in the airport of a conservative Muslim country, the last thing I’d be doing is making friends with them. Still, I was keen to have someone else to talk to other than Dave. “Ah, we’re heading to a small island off the coast of Thailand, just north of Langkawi in northern Malaysia” “For a holiday?” “Nope, research. We’re studying ocean floor ecologies in various parts of the world.” “Woah, that sounds so cool! Tell me more” he exclaimed. And for once, unlike most people when I tell them what we do, he actually sounded genuinely interested. “Really?” “Yeah! I totally wanted to be a marine biologist growing up!” “Ah, not quite the same thing, but I take your point” I chuckled. “Let me fill up my water bottle, and I’ll tell you more.” “Cool! Just let me get my bottle. I’ll meet you back here in 5” and with that, not even waiting for my agreement, he turned around and lumbered off. His back was so fucking wide, and every single muscle was almost screaming to be noticed. Does this muscle freak actually want to spend time talking to me? I could barely contain my excitement! I raced to fill up Dave’s bottle, ran back and almost threw it at him (“uh, thanks?” he said as I ran off), and sped back to the drinking water taps. (to be continued...)
  4. Thomas can feel his back, delts, traps, and shoulders ballooning, stretching and popping in more places than he can count as the chair begins creaking. He is testing the restraints now as a couple of the seams on the straps tear ever so slightly. His arms have surpassed 23” and his biceps and triceps are gloriously humungous. They are bunched up on the back of the chair as he has to hunch over to handle the mass that is forming on his frame. His pecs are still growing as they stretch the shirt fabric to its limits. There is a massive gap beneath them as he can no longer see the monstrous eight slabs beneath his huge furry mantits. He loves the way they look as his nipples and areolas thicken and double in size nearly perfectly on the corners. They are almost entirely visible from outside his shirt. He understands why the shirt was so loose now, but he wants to destroy it without having to use his hands. He is now staring at the two men in front of him and realizes that they are nearly nude. He is not the same Thomas they remember at all anymore. His eyes and face still resemble the old Thomas, but he isn’t nearly as shy, but that was to be expected of course. His lower half is nearly done growing as they walk up to him seeing that the transition is nearly complete. Arliss and Cliff motion for the medical staff to leave so they can spend some one-on-one time with the huge young hulk. They both take turns rubbing his 35” quads and 23” calves which are sending shivers up and down the Canadian’s massive back. Cliff doesn’t even say anything before he reaches down to run his tongue along the huge, even larger 13” shaft, tasting the thick cockhead and guzzling its contents. Arliss massages his lower body making Thomas feel every sensation. He is yelling in delight and wants desperately to ravage both men. A few more tears are made on his arm and leg straps as he flexes his legs and arms. The volume in his upper arm is too much for the shirt now as the seams rip in half, exposing his gigantic ball-shaped veiny shoulders. His expanding lats are busting through as well as they destroy the sides of the shirt and flare out to the point that they are messing with the chair’s arms. His eyes are fixed on Cliff mostly, as he stares at the big hunk, breathing deeply and sounding like a giant bear, as his mentor continues to worship his monster cock, toying with his swollen cockhead. Arliss decides to fuck Cliff so he slides his thong off to push his huge cock inside the big man. Cliff gulps on Thomas’s cock for a few minutes before he stops to allow Arliss to push himself all the way in to pound him and blast his cum inside. The older top pulls out and backs off to get up and put his thong back on. He appears to be done knowing that Cliff should be able to handle the rest. “FUCK Cliff, that was way too fun. *looks at Thomas and swoons* You are a fucking beautiful man now young man. Well I should say, beastly man. I will be back in a few minutes to help clean this up.” Arliss departs as Cliff goes back to pleasuring Thomas, who is obviously far from being done. His muscles are swollen and throbbing. His shirt is hanging halfway off his body and his engorged pecs are begging for freedom. His mentor wants to put him over the edge and thinks he can do it, so he starts toying with his client even further. “I want you to fucking try and get free Thomas. I know you can do it, I can see how much the straps are fraying now. The raw power that is emanating from you is intoxicating and I am positive that shirt will do what that puny pair of shorts did earlier. Fucking grow a bit more and destroy that shirt.” Thomas is so wound now that he is straining and flexing even harder than before. Incredibly still with the needles in his arms, although they are nearly invisible inside his engorged veins now, the force he is exerting makes his arms swell another inch from top to bottom. He is ripping the straps now as Cliff looks on in amazement as the material rips in an even pattern. When they finally give way, the massive Canadian grins at Cliff and puffs his chest out to make his shirt shred as his chest becomes more visible. He has developed a gargantuan 65” chest with an uneven eight pack. He continues to smile as he shows Cliff one of his fat fingers and reaches up to slowly tug on the material. He moans feeling the remaining seams tear off realizing that it feels like a feather being lifted off of his massive frame. He is fully grown now it seems. He looks at both of his arms, noticing that there are two tiny needles that are barely inside his garden-hose sized veins and plucks them out and over the side of the chair. Cliff is stunned that Thomas has managed to get free from his restraints. He gets up off the ground and moves back a few inches. The Canadian hulk never takes his eyes off of Cliff. He is reveling in his size and deep down realizes that this feeling was always there. He flexes his vascular lats and makes them bust the arm rests off the chair as they tumble over to the sides. He is ready to get up now as security guards start moving through the side doors. Cliff motions for them to leave. “No guys, we are good. I think he just needs some attention. He has been waiting for this for his entire life, and I think so have I.” The giant hulk stumbles a bit as he gets to his feet, trying to figure out how much weight he needs to put on them since this is a completely new experience for him. He jumps on to Cliff and they fall to the ground. He is grunting and growling as he looks into Cliff’s eyes. He feels completely reborn and has no qualms about forcing himself onto other men. He leans over to whisper into his mentor’s ear. “You are right Cliff. This is exactly who I am and what I am destined to be. The old Thomas is still inside me, but he probably won’t be making another appearance ever again. All I can think about right now is plowing you for hours on end and feeling our bodies rub against each other forever. I want to taste you and fill you up until you burst. *feels Cliff tremble a bit* Eh? I have never seen you like this before. I want to be in control okay? *Cliff shakes his head yes multiple times* MMM, let’s do it gorgeous.” After making Cliff hornier than he has ever felt, with one finger again, Thomas snaps his mentor’s thong off and looks at his partner’s shaft spurting precum everywhere. He smiles before moving down to swallow it. He purposefully sucks it in rapid succession to put Cliff over the edge. The stunned man yells as Thomas pulls it out of his mouth to watch it blast cum all over his massive 345 pound frame. He goes back down on it again to gulp several ropes of cum and moans deeply closing his eyes to savor the sweet taste. He laughs as he pulls it out of his mouth again. Cliff pulls on his thick black beard and motions for him to kiss him. “Ohh? What makes you think I want to kiss you Cliff? *smiles which makes Cliff swoon* Are you going to beg me then?” “Oh my god Thomas. Where have you been all of my life? You are the alpha that I need, barking orders when needed. Please kiss me. I need to feel your lips on mine.” The huge hairy hulk gets back up and is a couple of inches taller than his mentor. His massive pecs are pressing up against Cliff’s pec shelf as he reaches around to caress his partner’s head. He pulls him in quickly to lock lips and holds him against him. There is an instant connection as both men moan deeply. This lasts for several minutes as they both massage each other’s chests with their hands. Thomas lifts him up to bury his face into Cliff’s chest and starts exploring his partner with his mouth. The smitten hunk submits to his new partner, but Thomas stops to say something to him. “You don’t have to let me do all of the work Cliff. *looks down at his massive pecs and furry eight-pack* I need this tension in my pecs to be released. You think you can help me with that?” Cliff’s eyes enlarge when he tells him this. “Then I suggest you make me feel it gorgeous. I feel like I can produce several gallons of cum just by having my pecs played with. SHIT, I want you to do it so bad.” He shoves Cliff’s head into them as the eager hunk immediately starts to lick them. After several hard punches and smacks, he can tell that Thomas loves every moment of it. “Fucking nurse me Cliff, I want you to abuse my nipples. They are the gateway to salvation, I can feel it.” The horned up hunk lightly blows on both of them, causing them to get fully erect. Thomas bounces both of them each time his partner tries to suck on them, grinning from ear to ear. Cliff is totally infatuated with this man now. He loves his demeanor and how he knows what he wants from him. Once Thomas finally stops toying with him, he lets his partner rub his tongue on both nipples, getting them sopping wet as he treats them with the same respect he has for Thomas’s giant tool. The huge hairy hulk feels every sensation through his entire body. His cock is bouncing ferociously now, leaking a long strand of precum onto the floor beneath them. He is intoxicated with the feeling of having his giant tits ravaged and bounces his pecs again to keep Cliff focused. “Bite and suck them hard Cliff, then I think I can feed you so much cum you won’t ever have to be with another man ever again.” Cliff tugs and chews on both nipples while rubbing his partner’s huge abdominal slabs, running his fingers between each one of them and marveling at their crazy symmetry. He is driving Thomas insane with his constant stimulation. His cock continues to spill thick precum everywhere as he rubs his horny partner’s back and shoulders with his sweaty hands. After a few more minutes of oral stimulation, the huge muscle giant can feel something new happening in his chest. He can hear Cliff moaning deeply as he sniffs the male teet he is working on. It is emitting the same aroma that comes from his crotch normally. Somehow, Thomas’s massive tits have started to leak precum from the pores in his areolas. Cliff runs his tongue along both of them and is in absolute heaven as he tastes the fluids seeping through them. His giant partner has his head arched back and is laughing at this new addition to his already incredible frame. He starts mumbling to himself, but the words are too low for Cliff to understand at first. He finally tells his partner to stop for a few moments so he can take a breather and say a few things to him. His ballsac is being stretched to its limits by the two heaving grapefruits that have been stimulated by more than one area of his body. “Heh…..oh my gawd Cliff. This is more than I ever imagined would happen to me. That serum your people have given to me feels like it has given me two more cocks, only they are two huge gorgeous melons.” His nipples are slowly dripping fluid down Cliff’s arms as he feels both pecs being caressed. His mentor keeps petting them and rubbing his fingers on the areolas. His breathing increases every time this is done. “Ohh fuck….oh fuck…..stop stop stop Cliff. Mmmm, it is as if the cum is being transferred through both my cock and my pecs now. This feels so much more satisfying than just having my cock sucked .” He bounces his pecs again and feels his balls contract as his cum manages to travel all the way up to his chest. He grabs Cliff’s head and presses it on top of his left nipple. It is obvious that something strange is about to happen because both tits look as if they are about to explode. Both men are stunned by what is transpiring and it makes Cliff latch on to his partner’s teet again. His precum stops oozing as Thomas yells in delight feeling his tits shooting thick jizz out of their holes. Both men are feeling euphoric as the huge young hulk top starts spurting cum out of his cock as well. He grabs Cliff’s body and slides him on top of his giant pole, spreading his hole wider than he has ever felt before. Cliff feels Thomas filling him up from both ends, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing to worship his young master. The muscle giant grabs his right pec and toys with his nipple, spraying its contents all over the room they are in. This lasts for about two minutes before he finally stops and he slows his breathing. Cliff quits sucking on his left pec and falls over. Thomas grabs him first though and slides his wet cock out of his partner’s hole to hold him. The medical staff rushes out to take him away from the muscle giant as they try to keep him stabilized. He is drowning in Thomas’s juices, something that should concern the behemoth, but he is surprisingly calm now as Arliss comes back out to attend to the muscle giant. “I think we are done here, you gorgeous stud. Once they get Cliff back to where he should be, he will come see you again. For now, let’s get you cleaned up and get you to bed. You will need a massive amount of rest after this. You are a complete original Thomas and I can’t wait to see where we go next with the others.” Thomas lifts him up to kiss him on the lips and puts him back down on the ground. Arliss is amazed at how affectionate Thomas can be despite the overwhelming changes. “Uhh wow, there may still be a small part of the old Thomas in there. He seemed like a really touchy-feely type, am I right?” The huge beast grins and shakes his head yes. “Mmm yes, he is still in here boss man. I am quickly figuring out how to manage everything in my mind though. You will find out that I am not a complete douchebag.” They leave the area as Thomas walks with him completely nude as his pecs and cock continue to slowly leak fluids onto the floor. Arliss is unconcerned and knows that he can’t touch the hulk without making him react again. They pass other men who have been watching on the monitors and they are totally in awe. They pass Steve who is sitting in one of the side rooms, he waves and smiles. “Is that man getting this treatment too Arliss?” “Ohh yeah he will Thomas. He came here with another man, but he wasn’t cooperating.” “What about Jessie? I really like him. Will he be getting the same serum?” They stop walking. “No, Jessie’s formula is different. He doesn’t need the initial serum because his body is already jump started due to his gym routine. You had to start from square one and your body drank it up. The second serum you received turned you into a completely new beast.” He stares at Thomas’s sweaty pecs and wants to touch them. The muscle giant notices and shoves them in his face. Arliss leans in to taste both of them and grunts. The initial load that shot from them has subsided and it will require more stimulation to make them react again. They are standing between several men and notice that a lot of them have their cocks hanging freely outside their pants. They want another show, but time is starting to get away from the organizers and this can’t be postponed. Arliss motions for Thomas to go down the hall into the shower area and he will be there shortly. He tells the others to get back into their rooms and behave themselves. This was just the first client, what will be in store for the others? End of Part 6 Mastering the Formula: Motivating the Mind: Marking His Territory:
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