Popular Post KrispyKollection Posted January 5, 2021 Popular Post Share Posted January 5, 2021 Hey guys, longtime lurker, first time poster (going back to the old forum days). Finally took the plunge and took a cut at fleshing out one of my story ideas. I hope you enjoy! —————— Today was the day. The day where he could finally show everyone what he had been working on. The day where he could finally show himself what he had been working on. For weeks, months, gosh was it years? he had devoted his life to one thing, growth. All leading up to today, his first competition. The first time he can show off the fruits of his labor to the world. — It all started innocently enough. He wanted to lose that little gut he developed in his early twenties, so he joined the gym around the corner from his apartment. He picked the place without much thought, absentmindedly noticing a flyer in their window offering free personal training with new signups. Sounds too good to be true, he thought. There’s gotta be a catch… Nevertheless, he soon found himself in the brightly-lit lobby of the facility. The chipper attendant at the desk lit up excited to spark up a conversation. He was the epitome of a gym bunny. Well built, but not to some of the extremes some guys take it these days. With ‘supps’ and all other worlds of drugs and enhancements there’s just so many guys who take it too far. Fumbling around in their bulky bodies on an endless quest to get 'swole.’ Don’t they know that it will never be enough? They’ll just keep growing and growing regardless of the impact it has on themselves, their lives, their… He shakes his head to break up his train of thought. The attendant steps out from behind the desk to greet him, which thankfully allows him to refocus. “Hi, I’m Nick, what brings you in today?” he says while extending his hand. Grasping the attendant’s hand and following it up he notices how defined his arms are. He continues that path checking out the rest of his body. His deeply cut yellow stringer top and black short-shorts don’t leave much to the imagination. Perky, defined pecs leading down to the top row of a defined 6-pack popping out right above the bottom of the stringer’s neck hole, if you can even call it that. His visage was completed by a pair of firm thighs and calves. Taking him in as a whole you notice the slight tinge of a tasteful tan, he’s damn-near perfect. Not too much, not too little. What those douchebros on Insta would likely call “aesthetics.” Snapping out of it for the second time since entering the gym, he realizes that he has been standing there staring for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Sorry, sometimes I get a little lost in my head,” he fumbles, “I guess… I want to look like you,” he continues letting out a nervous laugh. “Haha, if I had a nickel for everyone that comes in here saying that lately, I could practically own this place by now,” Nick replies. His carefree reply lightens up the awkwardness to my relief. “Speaking of, why don’t I show you around?” “Sure, I’m Chet by the way.” Nick guides him around showing him the various amenities of the facility while they make small talk about Chet’s goals. He opened up, explaining that he really has never put much thought into his physical fitness outside of required gym classes in school. He was average, average height, average weight, average grades, average job… he wanted to make a change and he thought investing in his body would be a good step. “I can totally relate, you sound a lot like me before I started here a few weeks ago” Nick replied. He paused for a moment, did he say a few weeks ago? but he was again distracted. This time by the sight of Nick’s cute firm bum as he quickly spins around to face him. “Our personal training program is really great,” Nick declares with his hands firmly on his hips, bunching up his stringer to show a little peek of his cut adonis belt. “So what do you think?” “Huh?…” he stammers. Nick elaborated, “Are you going to join?” “Oh sure, I mean it all sounds great and I can see this place helps produce some great results” gesturing at Nick’s body “but, I do have some questions.” “Fire away! I aim to please.” He thinks back to Nick’s previous comment. Is it really possible that he’s built up this perfect body in just a few weeks? No, that’s crazy, he must have misunderstood. To save himself from embarrassment he thinks of a more benign question to start “So when should I start?” “How about right now?” Nick answers. He’s thrown off guard from that reply “Oh, uh wow, that’s really quick… I…” he stutters “I don’t even have the right clothes or…” “Don’t worry, we can provide all that,” Nick says as he grabs a matching stringer and shorts from behind the front desk. “Oh, I don’t think I can wear that…” he replies with anxiety washing over him thinking of what his pasty slightly chubby body would look like in such a revealing outfit like the one this young adonis is wearing. “Don’t worry Chet, no one will judge you here, besides one of the stipulations of the personal training program is that we must get you started right away. We find that people are more honest off the cuff.” Nick again offers the clothing and gestures to the locker room. Still uneasy, he takes the clothes and gets changed. He avoided any mirrors while walking out, not wanting to see what his body looked like. He walks back up to Nick displaying his best awkward shrug. Nick flashed him a smile “You look great buddy! A lot better than I did the first time I put those clothes on for sure.” Nick puffed his cheeks out at the end of his sentence to make his point, before they sucked back into his chiseled face. Okay, this is getting weird he’s gotta ask him, he thinks. Is he really to believe that Nick went from tubby to this just by working out here for a few weeks? He starts “Hey Nick, I gotta ask,” but just then, he catches a glimpse of himself in one of the mirrored columns of the gym, the anxiety builds up in him again. He changes his question on the fly, looking for comfort in the only person he knows so far, “will you be my personal trainer?” a nervous smile creeps onto his face. “Haha, no, we’ll pair you up with someone with a lot more knowledge and experience than myself.” His smile dissipates. “Speaking of, let’s get you set up with a consultation to get you started!” Nick leads him down a hallway with 5 or 6 doors, they stop midway. CONSULTATION ROOM #3. Nick opens the door to lead him in. He stops in the door frame, “wait, this is all going so fast, isn’t there some paperwork or something I should be filling out first?” “Don’t worry, everything will be taken care of in time, just take a seat and your trainer will be in shortly.” He turns back. The room is empty aside from a chair in the center near the far wall. He sits and waits, the strange thought of Nick’s quick results still festering in his head. — The door begins to open and he looks up. As it starts to reveal the man that is walking in, presumably his trainer, his jaw drops further and further at the sight he is seeing. The arm pushing the door open is larger than any he has ever seen and lean enough to see every fiber twitch even with the simple movement of opening the lightweight door. More is revealed as the motion of the door and the man continues, delts like bowling balls, a wide bloated chest, quads the size of cannons, and a thick quilted midsection all coated in a network of thick veins. The man had to angle himself sideways to complete his entrance to the room due to his wide back. Closing the door behind him he walks, or more accurately waddles, over to face Chet, towering over him in his seated position. Though, truthfully even if he was standing the man would likely still tower over him. He was wearing the same stringer and shorts leaving most of his obscene body on display. He was a human anatomy chart taken to the extreme. Muscles bumping and fighting for space, surely limiting his range of motion. His skin looked like it was shrink wrapped to his body with a dark tan, much more so than Nick’s, which served to exaggerate his already deep cuts and pulsing veins. Sitting there in matching clothing, he thought about the ridiculous disparity between his body and the man’s. Shame and anxiety started to return, but this time he easily dismissed it as his thoughts of the man soured. He is too much. He’s taken a beautiful thing and pushed it too far. He’d much rather have his pudgy body than this walking, ahem, waddling, meat parade. “Chet” the man’s voice booms. “The name’s Alan. I’m the owner of this gym and I’ll personally be in charge of your training.” “Based on your intake assessment, I think there is a lot of potential in you that I will develop.” Intake assessment? He doesn’t have any recollection of doing anything of the sort. He’s hesitant to do anything this man says, but is also intimidated by his presence, so he shyly nods along. “I’m willing to personally take you under my wing, but that comes with some stipulations. One, you must do everything I say. I will take full control of your training plan, diet, everything. Two, you must make every effort to shield yourself from the sight of your body during the program.” With that he pulls out some baggy sweat pants and hoodies. “I think we’ll start you with a large.” “I know this probably sounds like a strange requirement, but we only develop clients here who are fully committed and I don’t want any outside factors influencing your progress. You can admire your physique when we’ve completed your prescribed program.” “Finally three, your training starts now.” With that last sentence he stops and stares at Chet with a stern look. His large chest heaving up and down heavily. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Alan booms. He takes the hint and puts on the sweats. “Oh and Chet, I am deadly serious about number two,” he tenses his muscles, they explode with size letting out a deep GRRRR, “got it?” He had never been more terrified in his life. What had he gotten himself into? What is this man going to do with him? Alan heads to the door as he follows. I’ll just get through this one session as to not tick off this brute. He gulps thinking of what lies ahead. He’s never once stepped foot in a gym before and any hopes of this guy starting him off easy are straight out the window. Alan hands him a protein shake and directs him to the floor. The workout is brutal going around from machine to machine with Alan instructing him how to use them and putting him through grueling sets. By the end he is exhausted and his hoodie is drenched in sweat. Alan hands him another post-workout protein shake. “Drink up. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” We’ll see about that, he thinks. On the short walk home he ponders the events at the gym while trying to ignore the soreness of his body. Especially his legs. He takes a look at his phone, he had been there for just over 4 hours. Not that he would have known since he can’t recall a single clock in the building. He arrives back at his apartment and makes a b-line for the bathroom so he can get out of these sweaty clothes and clean himself up. He turns the hot water on in his shower and strips the drenched clothing off. In the process he unconsciously avoids looking at his body with Alan’s voice and powerful muscles echoing in his head. Ha, that’s silly, he thinks, that guy is crazy. There’s no way I’m following his rules, let alone stepping foot back in that place to begin with. He smirks and starts to turn towards the mirror, but something stops him before he makes it. He thinks to look down, but similarly feels stuck. He can’t put his finger on it, but it’s like something is physically keeping him from doing so. God this day… am I the crazy one now? I just need to relax. He steps into the shower, the warm water soothing his tired body. After the shower he slips into a robe and collapses onto his bed out of exhaustion. — The next day he awakes feeling downright amazing. Wow, thought I would have been more sore after a workout like that, he thinks. Maybe I will go back to that gym… Wait, no, that was insane, I’m not going back, his mind in quick disagreement with itself. Just then, he hears a loud pounding at his apartment door and jumps out of bed to answer. The door opens and to his surprise, it’s Alan in all his imposing glory. “Morning Chet, here, put these on.” Alan commands handing him another identical set of sweats. “We got work to do, both here and at the gym. Step aside.” With that, a team of people from the gym burst in, some carrying boxes in and some with bags to carry stuff out. “Woah woah, what’s going on here, how do you even know where I live?” he exclaimed. “I’ll ask you kindly to not raise your voice to me like that again,” Alan scorned “I knew exactly who you were the second you walked into my gym. As I explained, we only take on clients we know will commit and have potential, so to that end I have implemented a system at my gym to make sure that happens.” Alan’s ominous reply does noting to dissipate his feelings. He looks around at what everyone is doing, some appear to be restocking his kitchen with clean foods, proteins, and supplements, everything the gym-goer needs. A similar transition is happening in his bedroom, with his wardrobe being swapped with the requisite sweats. Another worker looks like he is removing all the mirrors. “I don’t understand, I don’t want this, I didn’t sign up for this,” he pleads. “Actually you did,” Alan replies showing him his tablet displaying an agreement with a signature that looked a lot like Chet’s. “What? I don’t remember signing this.” “Enough of this, get dressed, we have work to do. I won’t ask again,” a not-so-subtle flex of Alan’s bicep accentuating his point. He found himself following Alan back to the gym for another round of workouts. He didn’t feel like he had a choice. There was nothing he could do in this puny body of his. He resolved that his only option was to continue with the program, to what end that meant, he didn’t know, but hopefully it wasn’t an outcome similar to Alan’s. He observed Alan as he walked in front of him. His gargantuan thighs slicking past each other causing his bubble butt to pump along. His thick arms laid high on his inhuman lats. Both contributing to his wide stance, easily three times as wide as his own. His gait was reflected in his upper body as his arms swing widely in sync. What an ape, he thought. Once back inside the gym, Alan produces another protein shake for him and leads him back to the floor to start another grueling session. This time, he tries to not think about the predicament he has found himself in. He luckily finds it easy to lose himself in the workouts Alan has designed. The day is a blur of sets, shakes, and hydration. “Alright, now that’s a real day’s work,” Alan says to him, snapping him back to reality, “Go home, eat, and recover. You’ll find a schedule on your fridge that you will start following. See you tomorrow.” He walks outside to a low hanging sun. Gosh, what time is it? His phone display reads 6pm. He is stunned, this latest session was 10 hours long. How is that possible? “I guess yesterday was a light day to start,” he nervously laughs to himself. Arriving home he takes stock of the changes Alan has made to his apartment. Sure enough any reflective surface has been removed. He opened his dresser and closet to find nothing but sets of sweatpants and hoodies. Opening his fridge he found it stocked with pre-portioned meals. Finding some solace he at least is happy he doesn’t have to think about cooking while in the program. He spies the schedule Alan mentioned. On it are details of his meals, workouts, and to his dismay supplements. He looks to the right and sees them all lined up on his counter. He’s not happy about starting to take such things, but he knows he must. Alan will know if not. Curiously the workouts on his schedule don’t appear to have a firm start and end time, just generic things like Tuesday: Chest and Shoulders, Wednesday: Legs. Likely means he can expect more marathon sessions like he has already started. His workouts continue in the same fashion. He’s finding it easier and easier to get lost in his mind while working out. He’s actually kinda enjoying it despite all the circumstances surrounding it. The days begin to blend together with everything in his life so regimented. — It’s a few weeks later, he’s in the gym with Alan. Thursday, that means back and abdominal. He wonders what his abs look like, if he has them yet, if they look like Nick’s. That day with Nick seems so long ago. He sees him around the gym, but he’s so lost in his workouts, he doesn’t focus on much else then that while there. Alan appears to be pleased with his progress. “You’re doing great Chet, I knew you were built for this.” Alan’s approval fills him with joy as fucked up as that is. “So listen here, it’s time to take this to the next level.” With that Alan pulls out a syringe with a mystery substance in it. “What’s in that?” he asks. “That’s for me to know, it’s all part of the program. This isn’t a request.” He snaps into a hyper-focus, more than he has had in weeks. His mind races. He is not going to do this. He can’t believe he has gone this far already, with Alan controlling his life so completely. He’s already rearranged his whole life, starting taking all these supps and guzzling protein shakes, this is a step too far. He will not inject any sort of drugs in his body. With rebuilt force he blurts out “No! Absolutely not, this.. this is too far, I’ve already done so much for you. I will not.” Alan doesn’t seem to be surprised by his response. His lips curl up into a cheeky smirk. “Wow, I thought you were never going to say no,” he replies as he forcefully jabs the syringe into his arm, right through the hoodie fabric, and forces the mystery substance into his body. “What the…” is all he can start to muster as he feels the effects of whatever chemicals were in there. He feels a jolt of energy, but at the same time, he feels the world around him slipping away, first a blur, then completely gone. — Chet was giddy on the day of his first show. Not only because he was going to show off his hard work to the audience, but because Alan is finally going to allow him to see his body for the first time since he started his bodybuilding journey. He had made every effort to avoid spoiling this for himself and Alan by checking himself out. He knew this was so important. He had worked so hard for Alan to get here. Regardless of the baggy clothing that Alan and the gym provides, he knows there have been huge changes going on underneath and he can’t wait to finally see them. He checked all the boxes to prepare for this first showing like a true bodybuilder. Alan has had him on a cutting routine as of late to make sure his body is in the absolute best condition it can be to wow the judges. He’s also been running him through all the requisite poses and even booked him a spray tan like his own to accentuate his musculature. They check in at the hotel front desk where the competition is being held. With the key in hand, Alan hands it over to him with a bag as well. “Here, put this on when you get to the room. I will hang back here for a bit to really let you take yourself in.” Once in the room, the anticipation is killing him. He pulls the garment out of the bag that Alan handed him. To his surprise it is a pair of the brightest hot pink posers he has ever seen. He quickly slips them on, still avoiding checking out his legs as he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise at the last minute. With the posers in place he finishes disrobing. Standing in the entry of the room, he closes his eyes takes a deep breath before walking over to the full length mirror. He opens his eyes… oh… my… god… Is all that leaves his stunned mouth. Just as he finally takes sight of his insane body, he feels woozy and is struck by a flash of light which causes his head to fly back. — Where am I? you ask yourself. You’re staring at a ceiling that you don’t recognize as your own, but you can definitely feel yourself standing, not laying down. You can’t put your finger on it, but something about your stance feels off. You start to lower your head as you scan the room. You appear to be in a hotel room, but where? That thought is quickly interrupted as you look and realize you are not alone in the room. Across you see what must be the largest man you’ve ever seen in your life. His presence startles you, not expecting someone else, let lone someone as freaky as this guy. His expression looks to be one of bewilderment as well. You start “Hey, do you…” but trail off as the words are mimicked on the other man’s mouth. “What the,” you say as you raise your hand to your face, but to your astonishment the other man’s beefy arm raises up with it. You touch your face and it sinks in, the other man… is you. Your eyes go wide as you finally recognize the face in the mirror as your own. Of course it’s your face, you realize, but it’s taken on harder, more chiseled features, not to mention that it’s flanked with thick pulsing veins. You hold the arm out in front of you taking it in. It’s absolutely massive. It amazes you that you’re even able to move its mass at all. Your palm is rough and wide, veins snaking up the flip side leading up to your forearm, which looks like it could give your former legs a run for their money with its size. Your biceps were no less freaky easily out-measuring your head. You give your arm a tentative squeeze and see it jump to life. The thick vein splitting the head of your bicep pulsing with blood to feed your engorged muscle. Your arm is capped off with a delt the size of a medicine ball. It’s likely no less weight than one either, you think to yourself. You attempt to look down to continue your fevered assessment of the wild changes to your body, but quickly find that you can’t see anything over your puffed out pec shelf, your chin colliding with the cavernous crevice between them immediately upon looking down. You return to the mirror. For the first time really taking your whole body. Your skin is covered in a dark tan, the point of which seems to be to further accentuate your musculature. It looks so foreign, much like everything else, not just due to its complexion, but also due to the fact that it is so tightly sucked onto every crevice of your body. Your conditioning is to the point where you have to start questioning if your skin is even there, or if it’s just pure musculature showing through. Your head is perched on top of a set of traps that look like they’re close to touching your ears. You turn your head from side to side, feeling the way they restrict your movement. Your head looks comically small compared to every other part of your body, further highlighting the total growth encompassing every other muscle your body contained. You had already gotten a sense of the size of your pecs from what you could see in your limited range of sight, but you were not prepared to take them in fully. They dominated your upper body, wide and thick, reminiscent of the fluffy pillows on the hotel bed. Your nipples nearly out of sight as they point downward to the floor from the sheer mass contained in the muscles. Behind them, thick lats jut out, forcing your heavy arms to rest high on your body as they fight to occupy the same space as each other. Below your pecs you gaze upon your abs and obliques. Your midsection is a crazy amalgamation of cuts and bulges. Some of these muscles you swear you didn’t even know existed. Your 6-pack, or was it an 8-pack, no to your amazement you count a 10-pack, is blocky and deep. You could lose a finger, maybe even a hand in those cuts. Regardless of its thickness, your waist tapers down tightly, especially compared to the width of your upper body. Your adonis belt is thick enough to cast a shadow upon the top straps of the hot pink posers you have on as your only piece of clothing. You stop at the sight of the posers, for the first time really noticing them. Their bold coloring not having been enough to distract you from all the other changes in your body. What an embarrassing garment, why would you wear such a thing? Even from the front, you can feel the growth in your glutes and can see them jutting out ever so slightly underneath the straps of the posers. You stop to think if your new body would appear taller sitting down with these massive bubbles than standing up. Your quads may be in the running for the most ridiculous transformation. They are massive, the size of barrels, forcing your stance apart wildly as you feel them pressed up against each other firmly. Deep insertions give way to a sweep that goes on for days. Teardrop doesn’t even begin to describe their shape. Even if your quads weren’t keeping your legs from standing next to each other with ease you guess that your calves still would. Shaped like diamonds, you’d never seen anything like them. Your thick quads coupled with your tight waist and wide upper body give your whole body an unmistakable “X” shape. Everything feels so tight and not talking just about the posers pulled tight over your bum. Everything is tight with the mass packed onto your frame. You trace the network of thick, pulsing, veins crisscrossing muscle groups back up to your face as you finish your assessment. With everything taken in and made sense of as much as it can, you finally have the time to think. Your mind goes into overdrive. “No, no, no, what the hell is going on, this is insane, this is all too much!” you yell out to no one. Taking a step forward to begin pacing about the room nervously you immediately trip over yourself, not used to having to move your quads out of the way of each other to simply move. As you begin to move you feel bulky and awkward, muscles colliding with muscles, a warmth building between your quads as they rub past each other. Your heart is racing as you struggle to come to grips with the body you now apparently inhabit. This causes a vicious cycle as the blood coursing around your body only serves to pump up your already exaggerated muscles even more. You hold your arms up in front of you to examine them again, the sheer sight of them causing you to quickly lower them to your sides to get them out of your view. As if you could even hide away arms like this. You stop at the mirror again. This is not normal, you think. Humans are not supposed to look like this. How can they look like this? Can I even call myself human at this point? I’m more muscle than man. When your biceps outsize your head, it’s clear who runs the show. This body, it’s incomprehensible, it’s obscene, it’s grotesque, it’s disgusting, it’s exactly what you would never want for yourself. You’ve had enough. You can’t look at it anymore. You scan the room to find clothes to cover yourself up so you can try to think straight. You find a tent-like hoodie and pair of sweat pants discarded by the room’s entrance. You clumsily drape the hoodie over yourself, your bloated muscles keeping you from having the amount of range needed to slip it on easily. On the way down muscles jutting out constantly catching it up in its path. With great effort and squirming you finally get it on. How pathetic, you think to yourself. You throw the sweat pants on the floor and step into them, slowly pulling them up your legs. Widening your stance to allow them to slip between your quads. They need to be tied off at the top, otherwise there would be no way they could pull past your bloated quads and cinch tightly to your tiny waist. You look back up at the mirror to accomplish this since looking down is not an option. Your arms struggle to grab the strings at your waist, your biceps colliding with your thick pecs as you attempt the motion. You sigh at the realization that even though you’re covering yourself up, the bloated muscle mass is still there underneath continuing its assault on everything you do. Fumbling with the strings, you pause. The sweats trigger something in your mind. Memories of the gym, of Alan, begin to rush back in. You come to the realization that he is the cause of this. You’re angry at him, but also at yourself for letting this happen. All you wanted was to drop a few pounds, but instead you let yourself get taken in by this man. I had no choice, you think as you flash back to his imposing form and a further realization begins to take shape. Next to you now, he would look downright puny. This thought terrifies you as the memories continue to fill back in, all the way up to the day when Alan injected you and your world went dark. This final memory begins to cloud your thoughts. Oh no, it’s happening again, you think as the familiar blurriness begins to take shape before the inevitable darkness. You’re terrified of what will happen next. How big will you be next time? Will there be a next time? oh god… A cocky grin creeps back up on Chet’s face as the pants drop back to the floor. First try at a morph too. Saw the original of Nick by Hardtrainer01 and decided it fit the story well so I tried my hand at making it even freakier. Not sure if it's something I always want to do, but those neon pink posers are undeniable 30 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ro20316 Posted January 5, 2021 Share Posted January 5, 2021 amazing one shot. He wanted a god body and he got it Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
richard18 Posted January 5, 2021 Share Posted January 5, 2021 who wouldnt want one, he is certainly not too much and i have a feeling the guy at the desk he met first will like him a lot more than he did do Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
benroc Posted January 7, 2021 Share Posted January 7, 2021 nice first time... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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