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I'm having a negative, visceral response to Harris already.

Harris hated his roommate. It was a fact that often raised eyebrows of their few mutual friends when he had chosen to share his opinion - mostly he kept it hidden and bubbling under the surface, fooling few but at least allowing the pretence of civility to exist. For those friends, it was hard to imagine anyone hating Rhys. He was kind, considerate, generous with time and money, and an all round “nice guy” who never seemed to reciprocate any feelings of ill will. Mostly, they put it down to jealousy. In highschool, Harris was very much the big fish of his pond. At 6’3”, he wasn’t the tallest guy in school, but he certainly enjoyed the benefits of being tall, and he didn’t have that gangly look a lot of the tallest boys had. Neither was he the strongest - he had friends who out-lifted him consistently, but they were all red faces and beer-bellies. They looked chubby more than they looked muscular and, Harris reasoned, if you’re not going to look good whilst doing it, what’s the point? He was still one of the strongest guys around after all, and had a perfect V of a torso, pumped arms, tight quads and defined abs that made all the girls he knew swoon when they saw him - even those that pretended not to. It also meant he was quicker than those lumbering gorillas, which helped him excel at sports. He was, as far as he was concerned, perfect. And he would admit, meeting Rhys for the first time was… difficult. How could it not be, when it was the first time his perfection was challenged? It was his freshman year at university, and he was the first to arrive in their halls of residence. He’d just finished unloading his belongings into his new room when a voice came rumbling from behind him. “Hey, buddy - room for a little one?” An innocent joke, one designed to break the ice, but a misjudged one: it had knocked Harris out of joint from the very start. Although, there probably wasn’t much Rhys could have done to stop his new roommate going down that path. When Harris turned around, he froze with his jaw hanging slightly open. He was tall - very tall, having to duck just under the doorway to enter the shared bedroom. That made him, what, 6’7”? But the bastard didn’t have the good grace to be skinny streak of shit to go with that height, oh no. His broad shoulders filled the door frame - making him almost like a ship in a bottle, Harris unsure exactly how he entered the room so quietly - and crowned a thick, burly mass of muscle. He didn’t have a cut physique - despite being fully dressed, the items he was wearing were stretched to near transparency, so Harris was certain of that. But what he did have was mass, probably twice as much as Harris himself possessed, on what seemed to be the most natural looking mountain of musculature the poor teen had ever seen. “Rhys - pleased to meet you,” the giant said, a friendly smile on his face and his hand outstretched to Harris, trying to break the tension. Harris accepted and immediately regretted it, finding his own hand swimming in the giant’s paw. He wrinkled his nose - not just because of the indignity of the situation, but because he was pretty sure he could smell the guy. It wasn’t a foul odour, and definitely wasn’t sweat, but it wasn’t entirely removed from that. It was manly, and a little intimidating, and the only way a guy like Harris knew to respond to feeling threatened was anger. Quiet and seething, he finally spoke. “Harris. This bed’s mine.” But Harris wasn’t jealous. He was very adamant about that, despite the fact that - from that moment on - Rhys wasn't able to put a foot right in his eyes. So what if the guy was huge? Some people just happened to be genetic freaks, it’s not like anyone could do anything about it. If anything, Harris felt sorry for the big oaf, who would almost definitely go on to have health problems later in life. No, the thing that Harris despised, the biggest crime that Rhys had committed, was being lazy. Harris was not the kind of person to have everything handed to him on a plate, or so he liked to think. His view on the matter always seemed to gloss over who paid for his gym memberships or his specially catered diet, who had taken him to sports meets and bought equipment, who had helped him with school work to let him focus on his hobbies, or the numerous genetic advantages at his disposal. But it was true, at least, that Harris did work hard alongside all of these benefits. He was up at 6am most days, trained long hours down at the gym, stuck to his dietary regime with pious zeal and put in effort day after day. He felt he had earned the body he was blessed with, Rhys had not. The giant lump was snoring loudly whenever Harris left in the morning to train, and was often still in the same position when Harris returned. He played sports casually as if there was such a thing. He played pick-up sessions if they were going, always humiliating his diligent roommate in the process, but no matter how much any of the teams on campus begged him to even try out a practice session, he always firmly but politely refused. “I’m just not interested in sports,” would be his template response. His actual interests appeared to be just goofing off with his friends, playing games and watching shows. He always had a soda open or a packet of something filled with carbohydrates, and whenever he caught Harris giving him a venom-filled side-eye, he would have the absolute gall to offer him some. Harris would politely refuse, then send off an angry text to the effect of “YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT HE DID NOW-” At first, this behaviour made Harris feel more than a little smug. If that’s the way Rhys decided to take care of the gifts he’d been given, then so be it. Maybe when the freshman fifteen hit, and all that mass turned to flab, and he found himself a useless, out-of-shape wreck the moron would learn a thing or two about actually taking care of himself. And when he came to Harris, begging for his help in getting back in shape, he might even consider helping the poor guy. But that never happened. Worse, as time went on, Harris became aware of something else: the fucker was still growing. His head seemed to get closer and closer to the ceiling of the dorm, cresting at around 6’8”. Whenever Harris left for his morning gym sessions, he found himself having to squeeze past a humongous sock-clad foot, sticking out from the end of Rhys’ bed; it was humiliating! Within days of term starting, a new selection of clothes had arrived for the colossal boy, but within two months even these were now beginning to look tight on him! Rhys’ body loomed bigger and bigger, both physically and in Harris’ mind. The injustice of it made him seethe with rage, and people found him more and more prone to snapping at them. How could anyone possibly experience so much change in such a small amount of time, especially when they had so much to begin with? It just wasn’t fair, and the more Harris thought about it, the more he realised - no. It wasn’t fair, was it? There was something very badly wrong here. One day, he waited until Rhys had left the room before springing into action, and it wasn’t long before he found exactly what he had suspected to be true. RESIZR Hormonal adjusting hypersteroidal compound. WARNING: Resizr causes extreme difference in body mass. Use must be prescribed by a medical professional. Misuse can cause fatal injury. Dose must be taken as prescribed. Missed dosage can cause immediate, catastrophic reversal of effects. Had he not seen the proof of it already, flaunted in front of his face every day, Harris would never have believed it. But here it was! A bottle of pills that might as well be a genie’s lamp, hardly even hidden in a fucking sock drawer. His first instinct is to unscrew the lid, and pour as many of those pills down his gullet as he could, and see just how big someone who worked for it, someone who deserved it could get on the stuff. But some small, still-rational part of his mind saved him. That label about fatal injury cowed him, and so he settled on another course of action. The bottle said that regular doses were needed, right? Then all he had to do was make sure that would never happen. He flushed the lot, and hid the bottle at the bottom of his closet, a wicked grin plastered on his face as he did so. It persisted all day until his lumbering roommate returned, squeezing in through the door with a cheery smile and a wave, feeling happy, for once, to have it returned. Then Harris watched him. Rhys put down his keys, took off his shoes, took a trip to the bathroom, put his phone on charge and then - finally - he did what Harris was waiting for. He walked over to his sock drawer. Paused. Rifled around, then went over to his bedside table which he checked, then back to the sock drawer. He looked up at Harris, urgency clear on his face. “Um - Harris, you haven’t seen a medicine bottle lying around have you? I’m due a dose.” He asked, plaintively. “A medicine bottle? Are you under the weather?” Harris asked, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “No, it’s… it’s an ongoing thing, just some medication I need to take is all. Have you seen it?” “Hmm, I’m not sure. Have you tried the bathroom?” Rhys held his gaze for a long moment. He wasn’t an idiot, he could tell Harris was acting strangely, but then he always did. With no better options he went to the bathroom and, as he expected, found nothing. He came back into the room saying so. “Oh, dang. You sure it’s not in the drawer?” Harris asked. “Yes, I’m sure.” “Really? Because sometimes, I can just stare at something and-” “Harris, I’ve checked twice, it’s not there.” Rhys says, and uncharacteristic impatience in his voice. “I’m sorry, I just really need to take this medicine, like right now. Please, if you know anything just say so.” “Sorry, friend, I - no wait, I think I did see something!” he said, faking enthusiasm. “I saw it when I was tidying earlier, I just thought it was a prank gift or something. Is this what you’re looking for?” He hopped up, went over to the closet, and pulled out the bottle before handing it over. “Yes! Oh, thanks buddy, you’re amazing. You really don’t know-” And then he stopped. He’d unscrewed the bottle, peered inside, and found it empty. Then he looked up. Harris was watching his every move with a shit-eating grin on his face. “What’s up, pal? I think you better hurry up and take your medicine.” Rhys was still frozen. He had tried, really he had, from the moment he had met Harris. He knew that his size made people behave in funny ways sometimes, and usually all it took was a few careful words, a friendly hand extended across the aisle, and they’d come around to him. Not Harris. He fought him every step of the way, every attempt at friendship and civility dashed, thwarted and sent back to him smeared in crap. And now this. Going through his things, stealing medicine from him, hiding the evidence, lying. No. Rhys was through trying with this prick. Just then he felt a pain in his stomach. With a wince and a stifled “Ah-!” he doubled over, his huge form bending down before Harris and his nasty, sadistic smile. Rhys would be sure to wipe that off his face. “You clueless, jealous, tiny piece of shit…” he said through gritted teeth, still clutching at his stomach. “You have no fucking idea what you’ve done.”

Nice update! The banter between your characters is really well done. Can’t wait to see more of Ricky in the future, he’s a total stud.

Nice twist about a corporation being teh opne that offers to achieve their wildest growth dreams. I loved it

take your time man life gets busy but cant wait to hear and see more BIG BRO BRETT

Just a gentle bump to keep this at the top of the list

Thank you all for the kind comments and story ideas. I've been very busy lately, but I'll try and get to the next chapter soon.

This is such a hot story! I need to find more like this.

Richy.

Richy stood leaning against the thick planks of wood that held up the pier just outside one of Groff's beaches. The waters were relatively calm, with a moderate amount of wind picking up the occasional splash of seawater to send a light spray of mist onto Richy's face. The sun was high in the sky and shining down hard on the creamy torso of the handsome ginger and sending droplets of sweat rolling tantalizingly down his sculpted form. The young alpha was wearing nothing more than a pair of bright blue swim trunks, a pair of fake Ray Ban's, and some very comfy sandals. His new physique stood out on the secluded stretch of the sandy beach he was standing on. His six-pack was perfectly cut, ripped and immaculate, his newly defined arms and chiseled thighs well-proportioned in relation to his wider torso and overall he cut a striking figure. One look at the hot redhead and you couldn't help but be simultaneously intimidated and attracted to him. Or at least, that's what he thought. Richy's expression soured behind his sunglasses as he thought about all the attention he had gotten already, without any of the action he hoped for. Where he walked, heads turned. Their eyes roved up and down his masculine body, unabashedly ogling his attractive physique. He'd gotten compliments, flirtatious winks, double takes, and even a few phone numbers in the hours since arriving to the beach. But none of these appreciative looks had resulted in anything more, which was where he had expected his bulk and newly gained attractiveness would get him. His pensive sulking was interrupted by a soft buzzing from his pocket. Any bites yet? Richy bit his lip in irritation. Dante was so fucking nosy. A few. It wasn't a complete lie. There were loads of other half-naked men on the beach, all attractive specimens to say the least. Many of them well built, with extremely fit bodies. He caught one or two out of the corner of his eye shooting glances in his direction, checking him when they thought he wasnt looking. No one seemed brave enough to approach. We talked about this bro. Confidence! Easy for you to say. You're way bigger than me. Yea and I didn't get that way without nailing a virgin or three. Oh fuck off. There was a noticeable delay in the next message, as if Dante was surprised or taken aback by Richy's outburst. I did. Again and again. And look at me now. Quit being a pussy and take the initiative. If they aren't already thinking it, make them wish for you to come and fuck them wet and wild. Your optimism is inspiring. Another delay. This time a high resolution image of Dante's massive cock popped up. It was hard and proud, dripping in cum, covered in bulging veins. There was a sticky glistening trail of white seed running from his bulbous head down into his well trimmed pubes. There was a blurry face sitting out of frame, some mystery man who Dante had just no doubtably just fucked silly. Richy felt his own member swell in his trunks as he looked back at Dante's hard and huge beautiful cock in it's most flattering light. Another buzz. A little taste of what's to come once you stop over thinking things. Richy scoffed and locked his phone, slipping it back into the pocket of his bright swim trunks. He sighed and turned his attention back to the crowd scattered on the sandy beach. Sunbathers, swimmers, surfers. Lots of prime candidates. Richy left his hideout under the pier and mingled back into the crowd, casually strutting across the beach and keeping his eyes peeled for anyone that might be watching. He was careful to straighten his posture and stretch out his shoulders to make himself look bigger and more appealing to wandering eyes. His new body definitely stood out amongst the crowd. His big chest and sculpted abs practically sparkled in the sun as the ocean breeze misted him with sea spray. Richy's legs flexed and swelled with each step and drew attention to his thick thighs and tight ass. Throughout the walk, he caught a few more sly glances that held a little longer than he'd expected. A young guy playing volleyball flexed a bit more than he had been before, showing off his fine tan skin and his wide shoulders for Richy's appreciation. Some cute twink wearing a sombrero winked while setting up a grill as Richy passed by. Even some hunky dad walking up the beach with his kid gaped at him from behind sunglasses, trying and failing to be subtle. The ginger hunk felt his heartbeat race as dozens of sets of eyes watched him make his way to the burger joint at the other end of the beach. It felt exhilarating to hold so much power over the watching crowd, knowing he'd be stuck in some man's head for hours or days afterwards. Maybe he'd even be the inspiration to some wild wank session tonight as some stud got off to the image of his plump ass. Feeling a bit more full of himself, Richy leaned on the long bar counter and flagged down a server. The man turned around from the register and flipped his long silky brunette hair off of his face. His hazel eyes scanned Richy up and down appreciatively and there was a noticeable hitch in his breath. Richy couldn't help but relish the shock and arousal written plainly across the man's face. It felt like he was a kid in a candy shop able to get any sweet that he wanted. The bartender's face quickly switched back to a neutral customer service face as he greeted Richy, walking over from the other end of the bar. Richy looked the man up and down from behind his sunglasses and felt his heart race a bit faster. This guy looked like just his type. Even in the frumpy casual-but-corporate beach uniform he stood out as a fine specimen, perfect for a quickie. As he walked Richy began to fantasize of all the things he’d want to do to the man, assuming he was down to fuck. Confidence, huh? "What can I get you?" "Piña colada, with a bit extra cream." Richy replied suggestively. The brunette began to prepare his order with a nervous smile on his face. He was cute, for sure. He reminded Richy of himself before he'd met Thor, albeit a bit bulkier. He was slender and lithe with a dancer's build and warm brown skin. He had soft facial features and full kissable lips that were flanked on either side by warm wavy brown locks that fell to his shoulder. Richy's eyes traveled to the smaller man's tight waist, admiring the two perky globes of beef that were underneath his fitting black shorts. The rest of his body screamed "tight" from under his blue shirt, causing his growing appetite to yearn for a better view of what was underneath. The man set the cold drink down in front of Richy and flashed another hospitable smile. "Anything else?" he asked politely, and then swallowed hard, maybe hopeful, maybe anxious. Without missing a beat, Richy placed his lips on the straw to the drink and slurped down the whole thing in one long draft, keeping his eyes locked on the cute man from behind his sunglasses. The man's mouth dropped in astonishment and Richy saw his eyes grow wide at the not-so-subtle display. He couldn't help but smirk at his awed gaze. "Yea. Are you busy in ten minutes?" Richy asked directly. "Yeah! Uh, I mean. I go on break in five." Damnit. Dante was right. *** A shorter piece that maybe puts some insight into the mind of someone who's not as confident in their new found sexy powers as Dante, Jason or Thor. This is an example of the kind of "charachter driven" update i''ll have in the future however this was a small one. Also it gave me an excuse to generate an AI image of Richy, see below.

Yes!

Love superstrength stories like this!

Rediscovered this and will use it in a story

Ok, here's Chapter 4 for your reading pleasure: My Friend Pete — Chapter 4 A few weeks later, Pete and I were hanging out at one of our favorite clubs in town, called Harry’s Place. It was nothing fancy, but they frequently had some pretty good local bands playing and there were usually quite a few girls from the college as well as locals to hook up with. The best part was the dress code, if you call it that, is very casual, so we could wear muscle shirts to impress the girls. Tonight was slow and the band wasn’t all that good, so Pete and I decided to leave early. As we were walking to the bus stop to catch the bus back to campus, we heard something coming from the alley next to the Rainbow Lounge, a gay bar a block from the club we just left. It sounded like somebody whimpering, so we stopped to investigate. When we entered the alley, we saw six big guys cornering two much smaller guys, who looked scared shitless. The biggest one said, “Okay faggots, it’s time to teach you two a lesson. What you queers do ain’t natural, so we’re gunna to beat the fag outta you ‘til ya straight. Right guys?” The others laughed in agreement as they moved in on the smaller guys. Pete yelled, “Hey! What’s going on here?” One of the smaller guys yelled “Help!” when he saw us and the big guys stopped and turned to see who was interrupting their fun. The big guy who threatened the two gay guys (probably the only one of them who could string enough words together to make a sentence) yelled at us, “This ain’t none a ya business. Now beat it before we decide to beat the crap otta you clowns too.” As we moved closer, Pete said, “You goons are real brave…six against two. Maybe my friend and I can even out the odds a little.” While he was talking Pete pulled off his shirt revealing his ripped, tight, muscular torso. “Big talk for a little guy, pretty boy. You think those gym muscles scare us? I bet they’re just for show. Let’s see if they can do anything besides impress the fags.” At this he pulled out a switch blade and struck out at Pete. Pete wasn’t just strong, but he was fast too. He dogged the blade and grabbed his attacker’s wrist. With a quick squeeze and a twist, the big guy’s forearm snapped with a loud crack. He dropped the knife and yelled out in pain. Pete kicked the knife away and let his victim drop to the ground. He sat there against the wall, holding his broken forearm and looked to be in a lot of pain. At that two of his friends grabbed Pete’s arms and a third started punching Pete in the gut while the other two turned their attention to me. Pete’s rock-hard abs provided an impenetrable shield against the barrage of hard punches, each one landing with a loud THWAP. It took a while, but soon the puncher realized his hands were hurting a lot more than his victim’s stomach, so he stopped punching. He looked around and picked up a 2x4 laying on the ground in the alley. He swung it at Pete’s gut with all his strength. It snapped in half on impact with Pete’s abs. I wish I could have seen the guys’ faces when that happened, but I was a bit busy. As a wrestler, I had no trouble deflecting the attack and sending both guys flying against the wall. I held my own against my two assailants until one of them kicked me in the nuts. Damn that hurt! One of them got me in a full nelson while I was keeled over in pain. The other one started punching me in the gut. My abs are pretty hard and I can take a punch, but he was starting to wear me down. I then flexed my pecs and lats as hard as I could forcing my arms down and forward, breaking the full nelson. I then gave the guy in front of me a hard knee to the balls. Hey, what goes around, comes around. Meanwhile Pete lifted his legs up and wrapped them around the guy with the broken 2x4. He squeezed hard, forcing all the air out of his lungs and cracking a few ribs. When Pete let go, he dropped to the ground next to the guy with the broken arm and lay there in pain, struggling to breath with partially collapsed lungs and several broken ribs. Pete then pulled free of the other two and lifted them both off the ground by their throats. Their feet were dangling in the air as they struggled to pry Pete’s hands off their throats. Pete pressed his thumbs and middle fingers against their carotid arteries, cutting off the flow of blood to their little brains until they both lost consciousness and fell limp in his hands. He then tossed them in the pile with the other two. Pete then turned to see me break out of the full nelson and knee the other guy. I turned and started pounding the guy’s face and gut until he couldn’t stand, let alone fight back. While I was busy giving this guy a pounding, Pete had lifted the guy I kicked in the nuts and knocked him out cold with a single punch to his jaw. He tossed him in the pile with his pals. When I was done, I added the guy I was pounding to the pile. The six goons were laying there, either unconscious or wishing they were. Pete then looked at the guy with the broken arm, who was sitting against the wall holding his wrist, moaning in pain, and said, “If we ever catch you bothering these guys again, you won’t come out of it so lucky. Now apologize to these gentlemen before we leave.” “Screw you!” was his unwise response. At that Pete grabbed his other wrist and with a quick twist broke that one too. “You were saying…or do I have to break a leg too?” Pete countered. The guy, now in much more pain, with fear in his voice managed to grunt “Sorry.” “That’s better.” Pete then added, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, and did I mention, I hate bullies, especially bigoted, homophobic ones!” We then turned our attention to the two gay guys we had just saved and I asked, “Are you guys all right?” They both nodded as one of them started gushing, “That was amazing. How can we ever repay you? You saved us from a serious beating. You guys are like super heroes! You even look like super heroes! Oh my gawd! Look at the muscles on you two.” I responded, “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. We’re just a couple wrestlers from the college who thought you could use some help. I’m Jack by the way and that’s my friend Pete.” As we were shaking their hands, they introduced themselves as Bruce and Gary. Gary said, while feeling Pet’s arm as he shook his hand, “I didn’t see you in the Rainbow Lounge. I would definitely have noticed two hunks like you. How did you know we needed help?” “No, the Rainbow Lounge isn’t exactly our style. We just left Harry’s Place and were walking to the bus stop when we heard something in the alley and stopped to check it out.” Gary added with a disappointed look on his face, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that…I mean the Rainbow not being your style, not the part about you stopping to help.” Bruce added, “So you two aren’t a couple then?” I responded, “No, we’re straight, but we’ve been friends since we were kids.” Pete then added, “We should be getting back to campus now. Come on, we’ll walk you to your car and then we gotta catch a bus back to campus.” We walked them to their Tesla around the corner, and they offered to drive us to campus. I responded, “No thanks, we’ll just take the bus. But thanks anyway.” Gary came back, “No, we insist. It’s the least we can do after what you two did for us. Please. It’s really no trouble at all.” So, we gave in and took the ride. After all, even the back seat of a Tesla is more comfortable than a city bus.

Part 3 Jason then motioned for me to follow him once more. I was curious as to where we were going but before I could complete the thought he said he was taking me to my room. Like he was a parent or something. I was confused now, I said what do you mean my room? I have my own place across town where I live. Jason smiled and said not anymore everything has been sold and liquidated. But how? I’m really confused now. The QR code authorized everything and he showed me the receipts and notifications of everything, even an acceptance of resignation from my job. What the whole fuck man. Jason stopped and turned to me and said with a stern expression, this journey is going to take all of your time, besides everything you need is here. Besides, the corporation is taking care of us and everything. What the hell is the corporation but before that could be answered I got to my room and true to his word it had everything I needed. Bed, dresser, TV, which I went to look in the dresser which was full of workout clothes, it even had its own bathroom. He showed me the kitchen which was fully stocked with food, drinks, and snacks, from “The Corporation”. He pulled out a seat at the table and sat down, I followed and he began to explain. The Corporation is a supplement company that has quite a few products out there under various names. They advertised a couple of years ago needing someone to help test the limits of their new products and surprisingly got no response except for me so they rocked with it. Of course I didn’t know half the shit I know now hence the massive traps, arms, and now chest. They are slowly catching my body up but they also need a second tester on their newer products to see how they would work. The crazy but nice thing is we get to become super massive and they will see where to scale back in certain areas to refine their products and reduce side effects. Granted I was intrigued but also a little put off at the fact that we are legit test dummies and I made that statement clear and known. Jason nodded and agreed as those were his same thoughts as well when he first got started but weighed the benefits of being one. We get a place fully covered, we get meals and supplements fully covered. Free gym membership, free vehicle, free clothing, our own private gym which Jason was going to show me next so whats the issue. Well when Jason put it like that there really isn’t a reason for me to not do it. He said think about it Kevin, we could legit be like 600lb muscled beasts and nobody in the world would ever be that big because we would be the only ones. The thought did make me tent my shorts. I was really starting to like this setup. Ok, I’m game. We get up and Jason leads me to the private gym. Similar to the gym that we have memberships with, it was a converted warehouse that had everything we would need. I scratched my head in a puzzled manner. Jason asked what’s the confusion for. I said so if you already had all of this, why did you still come to the gym? His response was 2-fold. One to find a partner since that was the only gym that had the type of clientele he was interested in and two to see if anyone came close to his size. Granted Jason and I are relatively the same height at 6ft each but his size is something to behold. He then stated but with us, we will continue to go to the gym to work out as we are growing so the pretty boys and others can see what true muscle beasts look like and what they can do. I like the sound of that, when do we get started?! Jason liked my enthusiasm and motioned for me to slow down as he explained that there are a couple of rules and expectations. Rule 1 we walk around the house shirtless, Rule 2 we walk around the house in shorts for now, Rule 3 we only wear workout gear at the public gym, Rule 4 you only eat and drink what has your name on it, don’t mix anything because it could be fatal as we don’t know what the other person has in their food and drinks, Rule 5 follow the workout and meal plan to the T no exceptions, Rule 6 follow the sleep schedule as well. The rules were simple enough to follow. By the expression on my face, Jason knew that I was on board. The expectation for the both of us is to grow and grow huge. Out grow the house even, if that is possible and to even go out in public when allowed to do so to show off how much larger we are than regular people and the pretty boys to get them to think about taking products to try and match our size and strength essentially. Thinking through all of the potential possibilities was starting to get me to leak pre from the tip of my penis. The last expectation is to remain hairless from the neck down to really show how massive we are and that we can’t wear anything smaller than a 3X if we had to wear a shirt or pants. So I wonder if I should grow a beard or not but after a quick thought I’m not going to. If what Jason is saying comes to pass, I want to be able to see all of my glory uninterrupted and I would want everyone else to see as well. I looked at Jason and said yeah that’s fine for you but for me, now, that’s way too big. Jason reiterated that is the expectation when we do wear actual clothing which doesn’t happen often. So for now he said everything will start tomorrow for me. Jason instructed me to go get settled in my room and get acclimated to my new home.

Bump for next chapter

I totally pictured this guy when he was at the early stages of growing. Loving himself and loving otehrs lean bicep love - MyMusclevideo.com

You're welcome mate and thank you for sharing your stories with us. It will be awesome to hear the details and your thought process in writing .

Wow this chapter did not disappoint! Marcus’ transformation into a hulking alpha was perfect and it looks like he still has plenty of growing left to do. If his rate of growth continues he might wind up as the biggest guy in the frat Additional character centric vignettes sounds like a great idea to continue expanding the story. Hopefully we get to read one about Thor, he is so fucking hot. Can’t wait to read what comes next!

So good to see Muscledaddy Mason return after the Nick fiasco! He is a great hot character that makes me go WOOF!!! I hope this is the beginning of something wonderful between him and Vince! . Cheers mate!!!

Very nice!

Your stories are something else! I especially love the descriptions of the muscle growth and the ensuing hunger for even more size and power. Hopefully we’ll see more insanely hot stories from you in the future

Oh my god, so I was right! Either way, I really like the story. What I admire the most currently is this: when I was done reading, I felt like I got to know Mason and Vince's personality on a deeper level - and that just in a short story! Also: it's just nice to see "one of your guys" (I mean your already established characters) again. Good job, @muscleaddict P. S. Am scribbling on a few stories, too. Some parts inspired by your "canon". If anything's done, I might send you a DM.

Thank you, both! It's always great to see familiar users back on board when I start sharing new stuff! I might go into a bit more detail later on about what I was trying to aim for with this one and why I went down the route I did etc.

Wanna join in?