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From Bruiser to Loser (Part 6/Conclusion added on 2/13/21)


GrowManGrow

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To answer the question in the previous post from pnelshra, my story preferences revolve about growth - anything when men are changing, growing, and getting bigger. Muscle growth, muscle theft, weight gain, all of it. And once they get bigger I don't mind if they are giant teddy bears or complete alphas - they are both exciting to me. 

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12 hours ago, GrowManGrow said:

To answer the question in the previous post from pnelshra, my story preferences revolve about growth - anything when men are changing, growing, and getting bigger. Muscle growth, muscle theft, weight gain, all of it. And once they get bigger I don't mind if they are giant teddy bears or complete alphas - they are both exciting to me. 

How about  the following idea:  A group of students  (6 in total) find a box of golden accessoires (diamond earring, ring, buttplock, bellybottompiercing, cockring) and a book . They are  best friends and deceide that everyone can choose one of it. The most nerdy one chooses the book while the others choose a different item.  They take them home and want to try them on and while they put them on they realised that they cant take them off (execpt the buttplock, it will create a whole in the middle when applied, perfekt for  revieving a dick). The neardy gay fellow wiill soon find out that these are magical and linked to the book. The spellbook includes a Ritual which has to be performed by the book owner to activate the hidden powers. The hidden power is that every tool can drain a different bodystats (muscle (cockring), cocksize (buttplock), beauty (ring), assreflexity (diamondearring), virality (bellybottompiercing)) but this ability is only granted during sex. The bookkeeper can select a different content of size of power which can own the toolower but everything bejond that will be stored in the accessoires, ready to be taken by the bookkeeper. The toolowners are under the bookspell every full moon where they need to deliver their cargo and come to him. They need to do the opposit to deliver their gift in comporing what they do they drain different people (e.g. the ring guy needs to steel beaty from his preys by kissing the "beautiful" bodyparts he can deliver it by kissing the mouth of his bookmaster, the buttplock guy bottom for cock draining but need to top for giving his length, the muscular cockring guy tops for muscle drain and bottom to be drained, worship/ be worshipped, blowjob/ get blowed..). The nerdy skinny guy will recieve all the gifts from his friends and send them out for "hunting" again and again. With all the combined power the bookkeeper is able to " give" some of this attributes through his cum ( cumming in... the ass: cocksize, ...the mouth: muscle,  cumming on them: beauty) and his salvia (licking the ass: assreflexity, giving blowjobs: viratily). But he is also able to rip everything given of them by letting them fuck him.

....

THESE ARE ONLY SOME IDEAS FOR YOU: BUT I HOPE TO SEE A STORY LIKE THAT:)

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Wow, that is quite a fantasy, Lorian - you've got most of it there already! 🙂 

I love the idea about magical objects. I'm not sure if I can get all the details into one story, but I will mull around some concepts.

Thanks!

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Part 3

 

Friday, March 26

Bruiser awoke and looked at his clock. 2:12pm.

“Fuck, I slept way too long,” he thought.

He got up, shaved, brushed his teeth, got dressed in his usual t-shirt and shorts, and headed for the kitchen. Pete was at his cooking class, but he had made two protein shakes for Bruiser before leaving. Bruiser drank both down quickly, enjoying the chocolate taste.

Bruiser tossed the canisters into the sink and noticed a dirty one already in there.

“Did Pete have one, too?”  He shook the thought from his head, knowing that his brother didn’t care about fitness or nutrition, and assumed it must have been left over from the day before.

“Too bad there’s not a third,” he thought. “I’m fucking starving today.”

The big man left the house and headed for the gym. He took his place on the sidewalk, but was bummed to see it almost deserted since the lunch hour had passed. “Not going to knock anyone over today, that’s for sure.”

The walk seemed longer than usual, and strangely, Bruiser was out of breath by the time he arrived at the gym 25 minutes later. He felt a little lightheaded, so he sat on the bench outside to recover.

After a few minutes Bruiser hoisted himself from the bench and went inside. The cool air perked him up a bit, plus he always felt confident and strong in the gym. He strode to the free weight area, ready to be admired.

But like the sidewalk, the gym was almost empty. Other than two college-age men on the treadmills, plus the staff members, Bruiser had the place to himself.

“Well, fuck, nothing’s going my way today.”

He started his workout on the bench press, loading the bar up with 255 pounds for his warmup set. Bruiser lifted the bar up off the rack and lowered it to his chest, pressed it twice, but was already feeling fatigued. He considered doing a third, but stopped and re-racked the weight.

A bit woozy, and confused why such a light weight had been so troubling, Bruiser decided he was hungry and headed for the juice bar. He took several protein bars without paying – the bar worked on the honor system, but Bruiser refused to pay even though he had plenty of money – and gobbled them down. He felt slightly better, so he took two more and ate them as well.

Bruiser eventually walked back to the free weight area, and although still struggling, managed to complete most of his workout. He returned to the juice bar to grab eight more protein bars during the process, but he felt content on getting his lifts completed.

After finishing, Bruiser decided to take an Uber home. He was just too tired for the walk. The driver complained repeatedly about his sweaty clothes, but Bruiser didn’t care.

“So what if he gives me a low rating – he’s just some loser that has to drive Uber to make extra money,” thought Bruiser.

He arrived home a few minutes after leaving the gym and went straight for the kitchen, per his routine. Pete had his dinner waiting and served him the usual – steaks, veggies, and rice.

“No ‘friend’ tonight?” asked Pete as Bruiser started eating.

“Gym was empty today. Got there too late.”

Bruiser then noted something different as well: Pete had set aside several steaks for himself, too.

“You eating red meat?” he asked between bites.

Pete nodded. “I had one last night and really liked it, so I thought I’d have another.”

Bruiser didn’t respond, but kept eating as fast as he could. He was going to go out with his friends again tonight and needed to get ready.

“Fuck,” thought Bruiser, remembering that he had destroyed his lucky jeans the other night. “I forgot to get a new pair. Guess I’ll just wear my Levi’s.”

After finishing, Bruiser rose from his stool and shoved his plate across the counter toward his brother. Still pissed about the jeans and not sure how to express his anger, he grabbed three eclairs that Pete had made earlier and stuffed them in his mouth as he went upstairs.

Pete ate his dinner as well and cleaned up the kitchen. His steaks were filling, so he left the rest of the eclairs he had made on the counter for later. After Bruiser went to meet his friends, he decided to grab a book and spend the evening reading, but first he needed to finish the laundry.

Pete descended the staircase into the basement, went into the laundry room, and moved all the dark clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. Then, he grabbed the white clothes from the basket he had brought down earlier and put them into the washing machine along with a cupful of detergent. He started the wash and left the room.

The younger brother was about to go back upstairs, but he stopped for some unknown reason. Pete wasn’t sure why, but something was telling him to go toward the other end of the basement, so he turned and walked in that direction.

He rounded the corner of their large rec room and flicked on the light. The space was filled with all the workout gear that their dad had purchased for Bruiser, but which rarely got used. Bruiser worked out to generate an audience, and these weights were going to remain untouched since nobody could appreciate him lifting them.

Pete walked between the benches and weights, noting how unorganized everything was.

“Bruiser must have shown off at least once or twice for one of his friends,” he thought. “I suppose I could put everything back.”

First, he straightened up the benches, and then he started putting the dumbbells back in order on their rack. They were surprisingly lighter than he had anticipated, so he began curling one of them after picking it up. Pete watched himself in one of the mirrors, something he usually did not like to do, but thought he looked better than anticipated. A small muscle appeared under his shirt sleeve, and he focused on it instead of the flab encasing the rest of his body.

“Wow, I wouldn’t have thought 30 pounds would feel this light.”

After finishing 10 reps, he put the 30 pounder back and grabbed two 40 pounders from the rack. Pete took a huge breath, blew it out, and curled them simultaneously.

“Also not as hard as I thought.”

Pete did 10 more reps in each arm, and then proceeded to put all the dumbbells back in their rightful place. He also arranged the weight bars, dusted the machines, organized the various supplies on the small shelf in the room, and cleaned all the mirrors. Everything looked perfect when he had finished.

As he turned to leave however, he noted a small piece of paper sticking out from behind one of the mirrors. He pulled it out and was surprised to see the words ‘Bruce Workout Routine’ and it was dated four years ago, when his brother had really gotten into lifting and his dad had purchased the equipment.

“I guess it must have been his first routine. I wonder if it would be good for any beginner?”

Pete felt a flush of heat through his body, followed by a slight tingling all over. “Maybe it’s all the protein from those steaks,” he thought, “but I want to give this a try.”

He went upstairs and found some suitable workout clothes, changed, and ran back downstairs. He had to look up some of the exercise names on his phone, but he managed to figure everything out. After blasting through the workout once, Pete decided to go through it a second time, and then to finish off with some laps around the block.

‘A couple’ laps eventually turned into 10, and before he realized what had happened, he had fun five miles. Pete hadn’t run or walked five miles in a day ever before, and suddenly he had completed the distance in just over an hour.

Still not tired, Pete went back to the basement and grabbed a pair of ankle weights on a small shelf in the workout room. He strapped them on, went back outside, and ran another 10 laps around the block.

After returning, he took the ankle weights back downstairs and returned them to where he had found them. He was about to leave when he saw the measuring tape among the supplies on the shelf. “It might be nice to know where I stand,” he thought.

Pete had never measured his body before, so it seemed a little egotistical at first, but he figured that knowing would be helpful for monitoring any progress if he decided to keep working out.

  • Biceps: 14” (“Not bad, but far from good.”)
  • Waist: 46” (“Down a little from the last time I bought pants.”)
  • Chest: 44” (“Big, but not near as solid as could be.”)
  • Thighs: 22” (“Way too small for a guy my size.”)
  • Calves: 16” (“Also too small for someone so big.”)
  • Last but not least, Pete measure his flaccid cock at 4”. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but decided like everything else, it would be nice if it were bigger, too.

He put the measuring tape back and left the weight room, noting that it was almost midnight according to the wall clock. Pete’s t-shirt and shorts were soaked with sweat from the running, so he went upstairs to shower, but finished with some pushups on the steps before doing so.

Two hours later, Bruiser returned alone after a night out with his friends. Usually he had his pick of the women at the clubs and could count on at least 2 or 3 begging to accompany him home, but he had struck out with them all that evening.

“Jesus, everyone’s probably getting laid tonight but me,” said Bruiser as he stormed into the house. He stopped off in the kitchen to grab the remaining eclairs and started eating them on his way upstairs.

 

 

 

If you like this story and want more like it, please check out my GrowManGrow Patreon page: https://www.patreon.com/growmangrow?fan_landing=true

   

   

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Bruiser's cursed has started. I do woner if he is gonna loose weight. I expect for him not to get bigger but not amaller eitehr. He will think that he hit a plateau but in rellity his brotehr is gaining all the weight and more from him

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Monday, March 29

Bruiser awoke and looked at the clock. 2:58pm. It was the third or fourth time he had checked it, and he knew he needed to get up.

“I should go work out,” he thought. “But that probably isn’t in the cards today.”

He’d spent most of the weekend in bed, assuming he had caught the flu on Friday, and hoping that the rest would make him feel better. It didn’t. His whole body felt odd and out of sorts, like he wasn’t who he used to be.

The only thing that was working was his appetite, and it was in overdrive. Bruiser had been constantly hungry all weekend, and he was eating everything he could get his hands on.

Eventually, he tossed off the black comforter and struggled out of bed. Bruiser skipped his usual flex in the mirror and immediately looked for some clothes to wear because his room was so cold. As he searched, he recalled being cold quite a bit the past few days, and wondered if that feeling had also been caused by the flu.

Bruiser tried on some of his favorite clothes, but the bloat from overeating had made them too tight. He couldn’t get his designer shirts pulled down past his chest, and the only pair of pants that fit (barely!) were ones given to him a few years back by a female admirer who, according to Bruiser, “had more money than brains.”

He walked over to his mirror to check himself out, but before he made it, the pants button, straining to contain his growing bulk, popped off and flew across the room.

Bruiser rolled his eyes and thought, “Well, fuck, if this isn’t a new low. I guess I could just wrap myself up in my comforter all day.”

Thinking that sounded too pathetic, the big man took off the pants, walked across the hall to Pete’s bedroom, and opened the door. The room looked a lot like Bruiser’s, which was surprising since the two were so different – but other than a desk and computer in one corner, a blue comforter instead of a black one, and a lack of any trophies, they were essentially the same.

Bruiser went to the closest dresser and opened the top drawer, but found only undershirts and boxers.

“Really large boxers,” he said to himself with a laugh.

In the next drawer down Bruiser found what he was looking for – t-shirts and sweatpants – and pulled one of each out to try them on. Both were way too large, but he could tie the sweatpants tighter using its drawstring and at least he’d be warm for the day. Satisfied with his pilfering, the big man shut the drawers and returned to his room to shave and brush his teeth.

“Take it easy today,” he thought as he rinsed his face after shaving. “But tomorrow I attack the weights. Hard.”

When finished, Bruiser went downstairs and into the kitchen. Pete was still at his cooking class, but the protein shakes were right where they should be in the fridge. He thought about drinking them, but decided he wasn’t in the mood.

“I need something to eat right now.”

The big man looked around the kitchen and spotted the cookie jar. “Mmmm…that’ll hit the spot.”

Bruiser open the jar and found it loaded with homemade peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies. Pete had made them with lard and real butter, so they were extra rich and extremely delicious…and large enough to contain 800 calories per cookie. Bruiser ate all 24 of them in the jar, not realizing he had just consumed almost 20,000 calories.

After finishing them off with a couple of glasses of whole milk, he broke into the stash of cinnamon rolls that Pete had made last week, which he had wrapped up and frozen. Bruiser defrosted several of them in the microwave and as the sweet scent filled the air, his belly gurgled in anticipation.

The second the microwave dinged, Bruiser gobbled them down and defrosted a few more.

Satisfied for the moment, Bruiser went into the living room to watch some TV. He sat in the big recliner and hoisted up his feet, feeling better than he had the past several days.

Pete arrived home 10 minutes later. “Hey, Bruiser. No workout today?”

Bruiser shook his head but didn’t look up at his brother. “I’m sick.”

“You still want dinner?”

“Fuck, yeah, I’m starving.”

Pete went directly to the kitchen and started cooking the steak, veggies, and rice that his brother would want. At the same time, he cooked a similar order for himself, and drank both protein shakes left in the fridge while doing so.

He brought the dinner to his brother on a TV tray and noted that his brother was wearing his clothes, but decided against asking why. Bruiser took the first plate of steaks and, without even realizing it, rested it on his growing belly. Pete then returned to the kitchen, ate his food, and cleaned up the dishes.

Bruiser fell asleep again almost immediately after finishing his meal, so Pete turned off the TV and left him to doze. He went upstairs and changed into some workout clothes, and then headed for the basement.

For the next few hours, Pete pumped iron like a madman while his brother slept.

As he went through his different exercises, a few images floated in and out of Pete’s mind. While he did his bench presses, for example, started picturing Chris Evans as Captain America, and how great he looked in those movies.

“I would kill for a chest like the one Steve Rogers had,” he thought.

From there, he moved on his bicep curls and thought about Chris Hemsworth as Thor.

“Spectacular as well. Especially that scene in the first Avengers movie where he’s pulling his hammer in the rain. Those arms of his…damn.”

Pete also daydreamed about Arnold Schwarzenegger during his workout, specifically how he looked in Commando.  And then he moved on to thinking about some of the other bodybuilders he admired, including Kevin Levrone, Paul Demayo, and Lou Ferrigno.

“Ferrigno as Hercules?” he thought. “Perfection. That’s what I would love to look like.”

Pete hadn’t thought about bodybuilding much before, which was odd since his brother and father had both competed in the sport, but during this workout he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wanted to get bigger…he wanted to grow…and he wanted to be muscular for the first time in his life.

After Pete finished his routine, he looked at himself in the mirror. His clothes were sweaty but also much looser than usual, and the jiggly fat that used to be so evident under his shirt could no longer be seen. He looked taller, more erect, and firmer all over.  He hadn’t shaved over the weekend, so he had a little stubble that made his face look less puffy.

“Or maybe it really is less puffy?” he thought.

Pete flexed his arms, hitting the double bicep pose that his brother loved to do so much. He was surprised at the rounded muscles that popped up, considering he’d only been working out a few days, but surmised they had been there all along and just needed a little weightlifting to make themselves seen. His nipples we are also hard, poking their way through the shirt fabric like little thimbles on top of his solid pecs, and looking very different than the flabby moobs that used to be there.

After staring at himself longer than he probably should have, Pete decided to check his progress. He went to the supply shelf, picked up the measuring tape, and took stock of his body.

  • Biceps: 17” (“Bigger than I thought.”)
  • Waist: 40” (“That’s what it was back in high school.”)
  • Chest: 50” (Nice to finally have it bigger than my waist.”)
  • Thighs: 25” (“Good, but I want them much bigger.”)
  • Calves: 18” (“I need them to get up to Bruiser’s size.”)
  • Pete finished by checking out the length of his cock, noting it was 6” flaccid.

“Hmmm. That seems bigger, too,” he thought. “I should have written my numbers down from the other day so I could compare them.”

He put the tape measure back, then retreated to his bedroom to shower and sleep.

Unaware of Pete’s activity, Bruiser slumbered in his chair until 1:00am and woke up when his stomach started grumbling. He knew his brother would be in bed, and he’d polished off the sweets earlier in the day, so he fumbled around on his phone until he found a 24-hour pizza place that would deliver. He ordered two extra-large pizzas and hoped they would arrive soon.

   

    

If this type of story is your cup of tea, please consider subscribing to my GrowManGrow Patreon page for more like it: https://www.patreon.com/growmangrow?fan_landing=true

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The changes are stating.

bruiser is gaining weight and he doesnt even realized it yet well both brotehr are gaining weight in different ways, It will be fun to read their reactions when they noticed what is happening.

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