Leaderboard

It happened while I was right in the middle of crossing the street. I was walking home from work, exactly halfway across the intersection when I felt it. At the time, I didn’t know what I was experiencing, but it felt like a fist had punched me in my heart while a snake wrapped around my lungs and a baseball bat slammed into my solar plexus. The pain was only momentary, but it was intense and unforgettable. I was a healthy man in my early 30s. I had never experienced sensations like this. I was worried I was having a heart attack or a stroke, or some strange cancer whose effects had snuck up on me all at once. Since the pain was gone as soon as I felt it, I finished crossing the street, and then leaned against a tree to stop and collect myself. Few, if any, of the other pedestrians marked me, and the cars kept whizzing by, no longer stymied by the red light. I was no longer in any pain. I was only five blocks from home. My husband Perry would likely be home. He is a heart surgeon, but he usually doesn’t work on Thursdays, so it would be a strong possibility he would be home. He would know what to do. Besides, it was probably all in my head. It was so quick that maybe I hadn’t felt anything—I’d just imagined it. My friends liked to tease me that I only married a surgeon because I'm a hypochondriac. They also had no idea how “a five like me had bagged a ten like him,” to quote my cattiest, bitchiest friend. True, I’m not much to look at. I’m just 5’9”, a sort of non-descript height, neither tall nor short. My face is also rather plain. Mud-brown eyes, mud-brown hair that I keep short-cropped, a nose that’s slightly too big for my face. I’m fit because I walk everywhere (two miles to work both ways), but my body isn’t particularly athletic. My dick is an average 6 inches. I have scattered body hair and a crooked smile. Nothing to look at. It’s also true that I come from a working class family and have a mid-level office job—it’s not like Perry married me for my money. It’s also true that I have no obvious demonstrable skills to land me a man: I have two left feet, I can barely draw stick figures, and I have a tin ear. Perry, meanwhile, is a dreamboat. He has naturally blond, thick wavy hair. His beard is always immaculately manicured. He’s 6’4” with a lithe, muscular body, just thick enough that his pecs and biceps visibly stretch his clothes. He also has a thick 8-inch dick, sings like an angel, and won multiple swing dance competitions as an undergrad. If this wasn’t enough, he came from money and has a surgeon’s income. My friends know that I’m kind, compassionate, and thoughtful. They see how much I make Perry laugh and how frequently he likes to kiss me, and they acknowledge we’re intellectual equals. Our marriage isn’t a complete mystery to them, just mostly a mystery. What they don’t know is my knack for sexual role play. I can spin a fantasy that will have Perry hard and leaking before I even touch him. Before me, all of Perry’s boyfriends had been sexually unadventurous pretty boys like him. Pretty boys often don’t have to try during sex—but us normies do. If I flatter myself, all my sexual panache did was get me a second date. My personality “bagged him.” As I laughed at myself for overreacting to one millisecond of pain, I calmed myself with the knowledge that Perry would know what to do. Reassured that I had a plan, I resumed my walk back home. It wasn’t two steps away from my resting tree that I realized things were different. My clothes were sitting on me wrong, pulling at me in odd and uncomfortable ways. When I looked down, I could see that more of my socks were showing than normal, and as I stared, a swath of shin appeared too. My sleeves also appeared to be rolling up a little bit, and the hem at the bottom of the shirt was trying to fight its way from behind my belt. My shoes also felt tighter. A few more steps later, I walked into a low-hanging tree branch. I walked this way 10 times a week: I knew this tree branch. It was low-hanging, sure, but it was only a hazard to me if I had an umbrella. On a day like today when the sun was shining warmly, the branch would pass over my head unaffected. The only explanation that made sense of everything was that I was getting taller. I looked around me, and, sure enough, it was plain as day that I was getting taller. The handful of people around me on the sidewalk seemed to be getting shorter, my strides were getting longer, each step was increasingly painful as my shoes grew tighter, and the tree branches were becoming more of obstacles. I felt a pleasant breeze tickle my stomach. My shirt had finally escaped my pants, and a large peek of my flat abs were on display. Similarly, a large flash of my shins was clearly visible. I slowed down as my impossibly tight shoes hobbled my progress. I stretched my feet one by one in hopes of relieving some of the pressure. It worked, after a fashion. My toes burst through the front of my shoes. Again, any pain I felt from this was only momentary. Since I was squarely in the residential district by this point, there were fewer pedestrians out and about. The few there were all had looks of astonishment as they stared at me. They could tell I had gotten taller. One middle aged man (a neighbor named Jack) had even taken out his phone and was filming me, which encouraged me to get home faster. At the same time my shoes gave up, I stopped growing taller. It was a good thing too, as my clothes were overburdened and threatening to join my shoes. And I still had three blocks left to walk. None of this made any sense. Perry would know what to do. Suddenly, a new sensation seized me, and it too slowed me down. I felt heavier. I don’t have other words for this. My body didn’t look particularly different, but I felt significantly heavier, and growing heavier by the second. I rubbed my stomach, and suddenly I could tell why I was heavier. My muscles, while they hadn’t gotten any bigger, were all getting denser, harder, and—yes—heavier. I could feel the strength coursing through me, trying to keep up with my staggering weight increase. I didn't have the mental capacity to try to understand this anymore; I was now just accepting my reality. It was a matter of fact that I had gotten taller; I was now just as inexplicably getting heavier. Just when I thought I could get no heavier, my clothes felt tighter again. Jack had started following me, keeping time with my ever-changing pace, and I could see a lascivious leer light up his face. I didn’t need to look down to know why he was staring. My muscles had started to swell larger. I pressed my hands into my abs. Not only did I now have a blossoming 6-pack, but I could tell my hands were bigger, and I could also feel that the density and hardness I’d recently developed was keeping up with the swelling musculature. In other words, my muscles were even harder, denser, and heavier, and only blowing up larger. My shirt was uncomfortably tight as my chest bloomed outwards. I was having a little trouble breathing until the top three buttons all gave way at once. It was then that I realized my neck had also been thickening. I reached up to feel just how thick it was, when I heard a tearing sound. My biceps, flexing as I reached towards my throat, rent both sleeves simultaneously. I looked over to Jack only to find that a small cadre of college-aged boys had joined him, staring at me, most with their own phones out as well. I realized I had to get home before I became even more of a spectacle. Perry would know what to do. I tried to pick up my pace, but that was easier said than done. My thighs had thickened into mighty columns of muscle, thicker than my waist. My growing weight didn’t help matters either. I had to throw my legs around each other in an awkward waddle, a walking method not conducive to speed. In my rush, and unaccustomed to this growing body, I tripped over my own mass and fell face-first into the sidewalk. My fans across the street cried out in shock, worried I’d hurt myself. Of course, by this point my chest had thickened so incredibly big that it took the full brunt of the impact—my face never made contact with the cement. However, I am pretty sure I cracked the concrete. I can’t say for certain there wasn’t a crack before I landed, but then I stood up, my pants shredding off my large, growing, flexing ass). I examined where I had just landed: there was a crack in the pavement, something like an impact crater. It took me a while to regain my balance. My shoulders were freakishly wide and capped with dense, thick muscle that were infiltrating my peripheral vision. My gigantic pec shelf and the overhanging ridge of my ass cantilevered out at odd angles. My biceps fought for space against my widening lats. My continually expanding quads made my stance need frequent readjustment. But, when I did regain my balance, my fans cheered. Slowly, deliberately, I continued my trek home. My shoes burst from my feet. My shirt, belt, and pants followed soon after. The few last vestiges of my clothes that clung to me were in tatters around me. Most of my torso—including my gigantic, round, pert, and still-growing pecs— and legs were completely exposed to my fans. I was pleased that my boxers were miraculously still holding on. Then I felt a new sensation. My cock and balls were feeling heavier. They were starting to grow too. My fans must have realized it at the same time I did, for the one or two who hadn’t been filming me pulled out their phones to film my newest bout of growth. By this point, my pecs were such gigantic protuberances that I couldn’t look past them to my growing crotch bulge without risking toppling over again. I could, however, both hear and feel the growth. I heard if when my boxers snapped clean off me, leaving me stark naked. I felt it when my mighty ass, gigantic balls, and free-swinging cock bounded free, gently caressed by the spring breeze. My balls were down to the tops of my thighs, still surging larger. Blessedly, I was finally in front of my house. However, I knew I was far too wide and thick to fit through the front door. Hell, I was so heavy by this point, I’d likely demolish the front porch just by stepping on it. From the shed out back, I heard grunting and loud, heavy clinking sounds. Perry was working out in his personal gym. When we bought this house, there had been a mowing shed in the backyard, but Perry had converted it into his personal gym. Because the previous owners had owned a riding mower, the door to the shed opened like a garage door: it was a wall that slid up. My fans followed me as I toddled and waddled around the side of the house to shed out back. I did my best to pull up the door, but unfamiliar with my new strength, I ended up just tearing it off the shed. That act of wanton destruction caused my fans to disperse. Inside his now three-walled shed, Perry was in his workout clothes, his face red from exertion, all his hair slick with sweat. He paused mid-curl and stared at me. I felt my muscles continuing to enlarge, my cock continuing to lengthen, and my balls continuing to swell. At that moment, my balls reached past my knees, the cock large enough and thick enough to match it. My muscles were now so big as to have surpassed inhumanly large a hundred pounds ago. When Perry saw me, he looked instantly aroused. But not surprised. “Hello, Dirk,” he said to me sweetly. “Has it finished yet?” “Has what finished?” I asked. We were both impressed at how low, resonant, and sexy my voice had become. “The body hair hasn’t grown in yet, so I don’t think so,” he said, ignoring my question. As if he had invoked it, my face, chest, and abs erupted in a thick carpet of hair. Lush and luxurious, so thick you could grab it by the fistful, I was now a furry, hairy fuck. Soon on top of that, I felt what I could only describe as my skin shrinking—my muscles now showed more definition, veins forced their way to the surface. “You are so hot,” Perry said, nearly drooling. “What’s going on?” I thundered. “No, seriously,” Perry said. He put down his weight and pointed over to the floor-length mirror. I hadn’t felt any of the changes to my face, but it had clearly changed. I was model handsome with a sleek new nose, intense cheekbones, a prominent jaw, and a thick but maintained beard. My hair was no longer mud-brown; it was charcoal black. My eyes were no longer mud-brown; they were amber. As I looked in the mirror, I surveyed the rest of the changes. My chest was giant, prodigious—two hairy globes of muscle hanging gravity-defyingly above a taut, tiny waist of cobbled six-pack and cum gutters. My thighs were cabled, veiny, striated columns of thick brawn. My arms were so thick as to dwarf Perry’s thick, muscular legs—pushed out even further by sinewy deltoids and wide, cobra-like lats. My ass was so intensely large and muscular it was visible from the front. My cock was as thick as Perry’s forearm and hung down to my knees, soft. My balls were the size of basketballs in a sac that hanging even lower. As I stood there, absorbing my breathtaking glory, my cock hardened, growing larger, thicker, huger, more rigid and veiny, and the slight breeze in the air stroked it, stimulating it beautifully. Perry’s phone chirped. “That’ll be Jack sending me the film he took.” “What the fuck, Perry?” I asked. “Well, Dirk,” he responded, “if you recall, there was that very complicated heart surgery I performed last month. It was sixteen hours long, and the patient was touch-and-go the whole time. But, she pulled through and made a full recovery. In record time, mind you. It was like magic. She should've been recuperating, nearly bedridden, for months. But, she came to my office yesterday. She offered to have sex with me as thanks. When I explained she was still recovering and should take it easy, she told me she'd jogged almost ten miles to my office. When I explained it was inappropriate for a doctor to have sex with their patients, she insisted we have sex anyways, as I technically no longer was her doctor. When I explained I was happily married to a man, she then offered to make a sexual fantasy come true.” “What?” “Turns out, fae folk have very similar cardiovascular systems to humans. And, among her people, a debt cannot be repaid with money alone. She proved her fae powers to me, but, when she uses them on humans, they are limited to sexual magic. She asked what fantasy of mine she could fulfill to repay her debt.” Perry paused meaningfully. Everything that had just happened did seem magic, so I accepted it. If Perry was convinced, that was enough for me. “A sexual fantasy of mine that I wanted to come true? That was tempting. I told her I’m already married to the man of my dreams, but what if he had the body of my dreams? So, I showed her our first role play. From our first date.” I swallowed hard, my Adam’s apple bobbing thickly. “That was so long ago,” I said. “You don’t remember the details, then?” he asked. “I don’t remember the broad strokes,” I admitted. “What are the details?” “You created such a world, Dirk. You should just reread it.” “The gist?” I implored. Perry suggestively raised and lowered his eyebrows. “You’re now 6’9”. Ninety inch chest, forty-two inch thighs, thirty-six inch biceps, forty-inch waist. Your muscles are also five times denser than a normal man’s, so you probably weigh over 1,000 pounds and are five times stronger than you look. And you look stronger than the Hulk. Also, it’s now ten times easier for you to gain muscle than a normal man, supplements and PEDs are three times more effective. You barely need to do anything to maintain this masculine edifice. I could keep going.” By this point, my dick was hard as a girder and leaking a river of pre. “What about this?” I said, pointing to my gargantuan erection. “30 inches soft, 48 inches hard. Super sensitive with twice as many nerve endings. A super-shooter. And the amount of testosterone you produce.” Perry whistled, impressed. “So, I’m never gonna top again,” I said pointedly. “We both prefer it when I top,” Perry said. “But our role play gave me five triggers. Five sentences I could say to temporarily alter your body.” “Meaning what?” I asked. “Ride ‘em cowboy,” Perry said. As soon as he finished speaking, my dick somehow got harder. Oddly, as it hardened, it got smaller and smaller until it was only 9 inches and proportionately thick. However, it was diamond hard, blazingly hot, and just as sensitive as it had been. I could see my heartbeat as my cock pulsed in sync. “In the role play, you called it an atomic erection. The same number of nerve endings, the same amount of blood. So, that tool,” he pointed, “is exponentially harder than its four foot counterpart, but just as sensitive, and conveniently fits it my mouth, hands, or ass.” It was painfully hard. But the pain was somehow pleasant. “What’s the trigger to make it go back to its four-foot size?” “No trigger. You just have to come.” “My body’s impossibly huge,” I said, trying to reach my dick, but failing because my biceps and pecs continuously collided into each other. “Clark Kent,” Perry said. And as soon as it was uttered, my body compacted into itself. My height and body hair remained what they were, but my musculature condensed. I looked like an impossibly ripped 320-pound bodybuilder with something like 2% body fat, but I could tell I had lost no strength or weight—I had just become even denser. But I was small and nimble enough to reach my aching cock. My balls had also condensed. They were still tantalizingly large and absurdly heavy, but I could fit one in the palm of my hand. I began stroking my cock, delighting in the lightning fire of delight emanating from my ministrations. Perry said, “Your soft cock would be appropriately scaled down, too. With your body this way, you can still go to work, hang out with friends, and seemingly live a normal life. But I wouldn’t go swimming at that density, unless the water’s shallow. I bet you can guess what trigger will turn you back.” “You’re not going to trick me into saying it,” I said, blissing out on my masturbation. “At least, not until I climax.” “Say it all you want. Wouldn’t accomplish anything,” Perry said. “The role play gives me and me alone control.” “The other two triggers?” I asked. “One makes you go into a mindless rut for a full day and night. The other makes you obsessed with putting on another 50 pounds of muscle mass. The scenario you wrote has you start at this size with potential to grow so much bigger. As long as we have access to heavy enough weights, like construction equipment and commercial airplanes.” I took in everything he was saying, but I masturbated more frenetically as he spoke. I could feel an orgasm inch closer, but I couldn’t cross the threshold. “Jerk off all you want,” Perry teased. “While your dick’s this small,” he said of my nine-inch monstrosity, “only I can get you off.” I stopped masturbating, and locked eyes with Parry. I was panting heavily, my thick, hairy chest rising and falling. “I know what to do,” Perry said. “We should both play hooky from work tomorrow, and we spend the next 24 hours in a mindless rut. What do you say?” I nodded, my eyes practically begging him to say it. With a smirk, Perry said, “Heigh-ho, Silver.”

It's been a while since I last added a story, but I couldn't turn down a challenge from Hulkoutlover (HOL) to write outside of my comfort zone. As the author, I modified HOL's request a bit and wrote this story for them. I hope it's a good one, and that HOL enjoys it many times over. If anyone else is interested in commissioning me and challenging me to write something new, please let me know on Discord at czechhunter69#0839. But for now, without further ado, please enjoy HOL's commission. ----------------------------- Colin the Intern As Collin swept the walkways of the lab on this stormy, lightning-filled night, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. The quiet hum of the machines and the distant rumble of thunder provided a comforting background noise. It was one of the few moments in his internship that he truly cherished - the opportunity to be alone in the evening with his thoughts while completing a simple final task. But tonight, something was different. The lab was a mesmerizing sight that never failed to captivate Collin every time he stepped into it. High ceilings, various scientific equipment, and experiments in progress created a buzzing energy that filled the air. Lightning flashes outside that intermittently illuminated the room cast eerie shadows that danced around the lab. Collin found comfort in the quiet hum of the machines and the distant rumble of thunder that provided a soothing background noise, but tonight, that sense of comfort was short-lived. As he swept the walkways, he couldn't help but glance over at the machines and experiments, wondering what secrets they held. Being an intern at the lab had always been Collin's dream, and he relished every moment he got to spend in this mesmerizing place. As he reflected on the mysteries, he had no idea that the next few moments would change everything. Little did he know that he was about to make a discovery that would turn the lab upside down. The lights were dimmed, but the bright flashes of lightning that illuminated the windows intermittently cast eerie shadows across the room. Despite the mesmerizing experiences that greeted him every day, Collin still felt unfulfilled in his current role - it wasn’t all janitorial stuff, he was just the new guy so to speak. He had spent years studying and earning degrees, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't putting his education to good use. The monotony of his internship had left him feeling uninspired, and he wondered if he was meant for something more. It seemed as though the only thing he had to show for his time at the lab was the growth of his hair, which had become long enough to cut once again. Collin yearned for a chance to truly make a difference and utilize his knowledge to the fullest. As the distant rumble of thunder provided a soothing background noise, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held. That’s when he heard a door creak open, between booms and torrents of rain. Collin turned and saw his mentor, Jay, walking out of the lab with a coy smile that they both knew meant he wasn't supposed to leave so early. He couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as he watched Jay's ass fill the back of his pants the same way his upper back filled his shirt - it was harder to hide those muscles usually. As much as Collin tried to deny it, he couldn't help the crush he had on his boss. "Hey Colin, make sure you lock up," Jay called out, his voice echoing in the large space. He looked crazed, and Colin could clearly see a boner pressed against the side of his legs. Collin nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he watched Jay leave. He couldn't deny that he felt a sense of unease now that he was alone in the lab. As he continued sweeping up, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he heard strange noises coming from one of the machines - to his relief it was just a fridge turning on. Collin took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. It was just the storm he assured himself. There was no reason to worry. The building was practically a bomb shelter. As Collin continued his rounds, he couldn't help but feel the jitters intensify as he approached the radiation section of the lab. He had always been a little uneasy around that area, no matter how many times he had been there. The warning signs and safety precautions always made him feel like he was in a dangerous situation. It was irrational, he knew that, but the feeling persisted. May it was the storm? Perhaps it was the lingering sense of the unknown that lurked in the shadows, or maybe it was the thought of the unseen dangers that could be lurking behind that lead door. Whatever the reason, he couldn't shake the feeling. The storm outside had only added to the sense of unease, trapping him inside the lab for the time being. Collin took a deep breath and tried to push the irrational thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing on the task at hand. He had work to do, and he couldn't let his nerves get the best of him. Colin finished sweeping the walkways and began gathering his things, unaware that Jay had decided to stick around due to the storm. Suddenly, Jay's voice echoed through the lab, surprising him. Colin turned to see his mentor, drenched from the rain, with water droplets cascading down his face and well-trimmed chest hair visible through his wet shirt. Jay's voice was low and smooth as he spoke, clearly disguising that he was out of breath due to the hailstorm that was hitting the roof. "Looks like we're stuck here together," he said, his calm and collected aura remaining intact despite the chaotic weather. Colin found this side of Jay incredibly alluring and couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Jay laughed and apologized for startling Colin before climbing up on one of the tables and sitting cross-legged. "Might as well get comfy," he said, laying down on one of the clean tables as the storm intensified outside. Colin leaned against a nearby counter, his eyes drawn to the sight of his boss standing a few feet away. The relentless downpour of rain had soaked Jay's clothes, making them cling to his muscular frame in all the right places. Each bolt of lightning illuminated the lab, casting shadows that highlighted every curve and contour of Jay's fit physique. Colin couldn't help but feel a sense of desire wash over him as he watched his boss breathe heavily, the sound of his breaths filling the quiet room. For a moment, Colin considered suggesting they head down to the basement for safety. But then he realized that the lab was probably the safest place to be. The building had been designed to withstand severe weather conditions, and the equipment they were working with was too valuable to risk moving. So he remained where he was, content to watch Jay from a distance, and let the storm rage on around them. With a sudden burst of energy, Jay sat up, his eyes glinting with an idea. Colin knew that if he wanted to impress his boss and make the most of his internship, he would have to go along with it, even if Jay never said it out loud. In a smooth and suggestive tone, Jay beckoned Colin over, his fit physique glistening in the dim light. "Hey, I wanted to show you something really special," he said, flashing a coy smile. The way he looked at Colin made his heart skip a beat. “You going to love it man.” As he ushered Colin to follow him into the radiation lab. Colin knew he wasn’t supposed to do anything in there. “It’ll be fine.” Jay assured him. “I’m the one who does the write ups,” He laughed. Jay struggled to pull his soggy badge from his pockets, his trembling hands betraying his frustration. "This goddamn badge," he muttered under his breath, finally managing to extract it. "I think you're really going to like this machine," he said to Colin, a sly grin creeping across his face. "It's got a new serum that I've been working on. With just a few treatments, you can pack on some serious muscle." He chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously. The door clicked open with a hiss, and Jay pushed it open, gesturing for Colin to follow him. "After you," he said, his voice low and suggestive. As Colin stepped through the doorway, Jay couldn't help but glance at his toned back and muscular legs, his mind racing with desire. Colin's heart raced at the thought of being alone with Jay and his chiseled physique, but he tried to play it cool as they made their way over to the new machine. Colin tried to sound casual as he broke the silence, "How much longer before the storm passes?" but Jay seemed to ignore his question, instead leading him over to the new machine. Jay explained the purpose of the machine, going into great detail about how it worked. Colin tried to follow along, but found it difficult to understand the complex technical terms. Jay's playful chuckle filled the air as he suddenly revealed, "For the last week, I’ve been getting stronger while working on this stuff. A quick treatment here and there, and I’ve packed on 50lbs of muscle, and there isn’t enough time in the day to jerk with how horny I’ve been." He put his arms up in a double bicep pose, only restrained by the wet shirt, clearly annoyed by it and Colin could have sworn he saw them grow, like the blue veins were tinting a green fade the rest of his skin. He had a proud smile. “Damn your arms are huge.” Colin's heart raced as it became clear that Jay was coming on to him. Colin found himself increasingly excited at the prospect of being alone with Jay. The storm outside continued to rage on, but he barely noticed as he hung onto Jay's every word, primarily cause the man talked with his hands and the movement accentuated his toned biceps and pecs. Despite trying to act casual, Colin’s heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe that Jay was going to just show him a muscle growing machine. Jay's eyes lingered on Colin's body, and he moved a little closer. "You know, I think you would look amazing with a few extra pounds of muscle on top of you,” Jay said, his voice low and seductive. "Why don't you let me show you how it's done?" Colin's mouth went dry as he realized what Jay was suggesting. He could already feel the wetness in his pants.He had never been with a man before, but he couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards Jay. The man’s chest hair alone was enough to get Collin hard as a rock. He took a deep breath and nodded his head, following Jay over to the new machine with anticipation building in his chest. Jay took Colin over to a sleek, white panel that looked like it belonged in a doctor's office. Colin felt a twinge of disappointment, hoping that Jay had been referring to himself when he mentioned adding a few pounds of muscle on Colin. The idea of Jay riding him like the stallion he was, made Collin chub up in his pants. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see Jay shirtless, stroking his, frankly massive cock, and using his spit as lube. "This is our new machine," Jay explained, gesturing towards the panel. "It uses gamma radiation to stimulate muscle growth in specific areas. It's still experimental, but we've had some promising results.” He flex his arm highlighting the veins crawling from his wrist up to his sleeve. Colin’s mouth dropped. “You like that don’t you?” Jay said before coughing and going back to his needless explanation. It was as though he was trying to resist going too far, with each advance. Colin listened carefully as Jay explained, let down to even be hearing the man ramble on. He couldn't believe that this kind of technology existed, and he was excited at the prospect of being able try it out. With how ripped Jay looked, it clearly worked. He couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have his muscles grow right before his eyes, to feel himself getting stronger and more powerful with each passing moment. Jay handed him a white lab apron and motioned for him to put it on. "We need to make sure you're protected from the radiation," he said with a grin. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe as long as you follow the protocols and aren’t wanting kids in the future” He laughed. Colin nodded nervously as he slipped on the apron over his clothes, feeling a surge of adrenaline as he realized what he was about to do. He couldn't wait to see the results and feel the changes in his body. Jay had Colin stand in front of a large, metallic board that resembled the kind of equipment he had seen at the doctor's office for chest X-rays. As he waited for Jay to get him situated, Colin couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle in his stomach. He wasn't entirely sure what he had gotten himself into, but he couldn't back out now. “Normally, I’d have to take your shirt off, but I kinda want to see it happen with it on.” As Jay rolled out a series of vials in front of him, Colin felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The vials were a dark, ominously green color, and there were six of them in total. He watched as Jay lifted up one of the vials, which was labeled H03, an auto-injector. Colin furrowed his brows in confusion, trying to make sense of it all. Hydrogen Ozonide didn't make sense to him, and he knew that it usually had to be kept at a much colder temperature. "Am I misreading this or were we going to do something else?" Colin asked, adjusting his cock through the apron so Jay could see. “I thought you were coming on to me.” "Oh, we'll get to that," Jay promised, flashing a mischievous grin. "But first, we need to get you looking more like a man and less like a fucking teenager." Jay's voice was increasingly frustrated and deeper, and his movements grew more agitated. Colin couldn't help but feel insulted by Jay's comment, but he tried not to let it show on his face. He wondered what exactly Jay had in mind for him, and what the auto-injectors were for. As he stood there, waiting for Jay to begin, Colin couldn't shake off the feeling that he was in over his head. Jay plunged four into Colin’s shoulders and thighs. Colin's eyes widened as he watched the green liquid travel through the tube of the injector, into him, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. They were painless, but the process was still frustrating for Jay. It was taking too long. He wanted to give up and screw the intern right there, but odds are - he wouldn’t survive. At least, not in his current condition. Jay tried to adjust his soaking wet clothes discreetly, but it was no use - they seemed to be fitting Jay more snugly than moments before. Colin couldn't help but notice the way Jay's muscles pressed against the fabric of his shirt, the way the wet hair seemed to cling just under the fabric, and the way his veins popped out on his forearms. It was clear that something strange was happening to him, but Colin didn't know what to make of it. "Are you okay?" Colin asked, his voice filled with concern. Colin's question seemed to snap Jay out of his trance-like state. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. "I'm fine," Jay replied, though his voice still sounded strained and huskier. "Just a little impatient, that's all." Colin wasn't entirely convinced, but something told him he shouldn’t press the issue. He could feel the dense tar like fluid at the injection sites burning and enflamed. He tried to steady his breathing, but his heart pounded harder and harder in his chest with each passing second. "This one is an aerosol that when blasted at you with the radiation, triggers the growth," Jay explained as he loaded it into a X-ray type machine and pressed a button on it. "It should help us both pack on some serious muscle as we breath it in with the radiation." The sound of the X-ray machine seemed to grow louder and more urgent as the second creeped by, with the hissing of the aerosol. Colin watched as Jay rushed over to a set of controls, his fingers moving expertly over the buttons and switches. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly was happening to him, and whether or not he would come out of this experience unscathed. Colin felt a sudden jolt of electricity course through him, making him gasp in surprise. He could feel his muscles tensing and twitching involuntarily, as if they were alive and pulsating with new energy. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and he struggled to keep his balance as he felt his entire body vibrate with power. "What the hell is happening to me?" he gasped, his now deeper voice thick with panic. Jay just laughed, a sly grin playing across his face. "Relax, man. It's all part of the process. You're going to look amazing when we're done." But Colin could tell from the way Jay's eyes sparkled with excitement that there was more to this than just a simple transformation. Colin felt like his body was on fire. The green serums that Jay had injected into him was coursing through his veins, and he could feel it altering him from the inside out. It was as if every cell in his body was being mutated, transformed, restructured, and he couldn't control what was happening to him. He groaned as his muscles convulsed and twitched, causing him to fall to his knees. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he thought it would burst out of him. His head was pounding, and he could feel his vision starting to blur. He was in so much pain that he couldn't think straight, and his body was growling like an animal. He dropped to his knees, then fell to his hands. Colin attempted to steady himself on all fours, but his hands and feet were undergoing a transformation too, and it was happening fast. He watched in awe as his fingers began to thicken, the once lean digits now appearing almost like sausages. The change continued up his arms, his forearms bulging in size and strength, quickly swelling to the original size of his thighs. He felt his biceps filling and tearing out of his sleeves, becoming wider and more muscular by the second. And all the more green by the minute. As he tried to shift his weight, the fabric of his clothing began to rip apart at the seams, unable to withstand the force of his growing muscles. The seams on his shirt gave way, exposing his now huge, chiseled chest. His pants were no match either, the fabric splitting from his ankles all the way up to his mid-thighs. He could feel his green skin stretching and expanding to accommodate the growth, the sensation a mix of pain and exhilaration. The rage building inside Colin was overwhelming, and he could feel it bubbling up from the depths of his being. His mind was clouded with a primal fury, and he had no control over his actions. In a fit of anger, he balled his fists and pounded them into the ground, causing the tiles to crack and break under the force of his deadly blows. He roared. The sound echoed throughout the lab, mixing with the sound of the storm outside, and Colin felt a surge of power rush through him. He could feel his muscles expanding even further, as if fueled by his anger. The veins in his arms bulged as he continued to strike the ground, and he felt a wild, uncontrollable energy coursing through his body. In that moment, Colin was lost to the rage, and he knew that nothing could stop him, as he noticed Jay, and how much sexier he look now that his shirt was barely holding on. His mind seemed to have one track; lust and rage. He could feel his humanity slipping away. Despite the excruciating pain that still wracked his body, he forced himself to stand up, towering over Jay in his newly acquired massive size. Jay was right, he was hornier than ever. He ripped off the rest of his pants, seeing his new meat hammer oozing with thick green cum, satisfied with how much pre there was already. Jay didn’t have a choice, they were going to get laid, across the floor if room could handle them. Colin's eyes glared down at Jay, who seemed completely unfazed by the monstrous creature that stood before him, clearly able to contain the rage causing him to grow along side Colin. In fact, he appeared calm and collected, as if he had been expecting this all along. "Now this is a man for me," Jay exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement as he reached out and grabbed Colin by the tricep, causing his Colin to snarl and growl in response. Colin didn’t care anymore, he was going to put Jay’s mouth to good use tonight. As Jay and Colin's lips locked, their bodies trembled with energy and their passion grew ever stronger. The intense energy flowing between them seemed to fuel Jay’s transformation, causing both their bodies to grow even more massive. As the passion between Jay and Colin grew stronger, Jay's body continued to transform. His skin turned green and the thick coat of hair covered his chest, only filled in more. His clothing tore apart at the seams, unable to contain his growing muscles as they swelled and bulged. His eyes glowed with an intense green light, reflecting the raw energy coursing through him. He let out a guttural roar as he continued to grow taller, wider, and more muscular. His massive fists balled up as he flexed his arms, veins bulging with power. The ground shook beneath him with every step he took, and the air around him crackled with electricity. Jay was no longer a man but a hulking beast, a force to be reckoned with. The two towering behemoths became lost in their passion, their bodies entwined as they continued to grow and mutate. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing, low growls, and moans of ecstasy. Colin's primal rage and desire were overwhelming as he fought and made love with Jay, each of their movements becoming more violent and destructive than the last. The walls shook and trembled as they crashed through them, the equipment they touched torn apart and destroyed. Colin reveled in the destruction he caused, smashing everything Jay created. The thunder and lightning from the outside storm added to the chaos inside what was left of the building. The sound of the destruction echoed through the entire building as they ravaged each other and everything in their path. The storm was a reflection of the turmoil within the lab, a symbol of the primal rage and passion that consumed the two creatures. Despite the destruction surrounding them, the two lovers were oblivious to everything except each other. Their passion and rage eventually caused the lab to crumble around them. Debris and rubble were strewn everywhere, but Colin and Jay were lost in their own world, their passion and rage fueling their actions. The broke out of the building, run into the storm, and they seemed to draw power from the chaos they had unleashed. Colin and Jay felt the full force of the wind and rain battering against their bodies. It was as if the elements were alive and reacting to their presence, amplifying their power and energy. The lightning strikes illuminated their massive forms, casting eerie shadows that danced around them. They reveled in the feeling of freedom, no longer confined by the walls of the lab. The storm raged on, and they ran deeper into the night, their primal roars and growls blending with the thunder and lightning. The storm raged on as Colin and Jay continued their rampage through the city. The two behemoths reveled in their destructive power, feeding off each other's energy as they smashed and tore through everything in their path. Jay taunted Colin, daring him to match his strength by lifting cars and hurling them through the air. Colin, no longer one to back down from a challenge, responded by ripping apart entire buildings with his bare hands. The two lovers were in their element, lost in the frenzy of destruction and the primal energy that coursed through their bodies. The city was their playground, and they were determined to leave a trail of destruction in their wake. ——-------- Colin sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the disorientation that clung to him. He took a deep breath and tried to piece together what had happened. But his memory remained a blur, and the only thing he could remember was the insatiable passion he still felt for Jay, vaguely remembering cumming several times last night, but it was different, and green? A disturbing thought. As Colin sat up, he took in his surroundings. He was covered in a sheet, and naked, laying on a couch. The living room was sparsely furnished with a few pieces of furniture, all in a drab, neutral color scheme of greys and browns. Despite the lack of decorations, the room had a masculine feel to it. As he was taking everything in, he noticed a naked man in the kitchen, who was fit and muscular, with broad shoulders, a chiseled back, with a bubble bottom. He was cooking eggs and bacon, and the sound and smell of it made Colin realize how hungry he was. Curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up, keeping the bedsheet around his waist. He peeked in, and to his surprise, it was Jay, his boss cooking breakfast. He didn’t know if he should get clothes on or fuck the man right then and there. As Jay turned around to face Colin, a sly grin spread across his face. "Well, good morning there, sleepyhead. I see you finally decided to join the land of the living," he said with a playful wink. Confused, Colin asked, "What happened last night?" Jay's smile faltered slightly as he replied, "Let's just say we got a little carried away, and things got pretty intense." He chuckled before adding, "Several times, actually. But don't worry, you're safe and sound now. We spent the night at my place. And now I’m cooking breakfast.” Colin couldn't shake off the feeling that something else had changed within him. He felt different, stronger somehow. But he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Jay laughed and suggested, "You know, we were naked most of the night, and it's warm in the house. You don't need that sheet." Colin blushed at Jay's suggestion and hesitated for a moment before reluctantly throwing off the sheet. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of himself in the polished fridge door nearby and gasped in shock. He could practically taste the testosterone radiating from him. Looking down, he noticed that his whole body was different - more manly all over. Even his once patchy facial hair had filled in. He was nearly as fit as his boss, and he was hung like a horse. He was sure he was still a grower, despite being a soft 7”. Jay hugged Colin, pressing his firm warm body against him. "What happened to me last night?" Colin asked, trying to process all the changes. He couldn't remember anything from the previous night. He grinned and leaned in closer to Colin, his toned and naked body almost brushing against him. "You changed, man. Last night was something else. You became more masculine, more confident, more...well-endowed," he said, giving Colin a wink. Colin blushed at the words, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t get over how completely different he looked. He was taller, more muscular, and definitely more well-endowed. Not significantly, but enough that it would be noticeable in the right clothes. Jay walked over to him and hugged him tightly, his muscular body pressing up against Colin's. "You're a different man now, my friend," he said, his voice low and seductive. "Last night, we shared something special, something primal.” He nonchalantly as he turned on the TV, switching it to the news deliberately, while handing Colin a heaping plate of food. Colin's mind was racing, trying to process all the changes that had happened to him - by just waking up, but Jay’s low husky voice was already engorging his cock as it began stiffened. They sat, eating as the TV showed images of destruction caused by a supposed F2 Tornado flashed on the screen. Cars in trees, busses thrown through multiple buildings. It looked like no storm he had ever seen. Colin recognized the locations, some he hadn’t been to before. But the destruction felt familiar, but he didn’t know why. Despite the news anchor's explanation, he knew that it wasn't a natural phenomenon. It was as if the answer was just out of reach. "That was us," Jay said, his voice laced with a mix of excitement and desire. "And if you don't learn to control your...gift," he said, glancing down at Colin's impressive cock, "you'll make last night's storm look like child's play.” Colin looked down and noticed his bulging package, which seemed to have grown even more since the last time he looked. "What do you mean, 'that was us’?"

Sean slept well that night, and in the morning he woke with a slight hangover. He rolled in the bed, forgetting there we was for a moment. The bed he was in was much larger than his queen bed at home. Then it returned to him. The memories from the night before, drinking with his dad, being carried to bed, watching his dad undress, WAIT, did Clint know he was watching. Was that why he said goodnight, or did he just say it to himself?! Oh fuck. If his dad had caught him watching him strip it would ruin everything. Fuck. Sean climbed out of bed and looked to the floor. The shirt was still there in tatters. Laying next to the shirt were the briefs Clint had on last night. Sean picked them up, his inner voice screaming at him for doing something so depraved as going through his dad’s underwear. He’d just reconciled with his dad, and he was putting that all in jeopardy, but his morning wood horniness won out. He picked up the briefs and inspected them. Indeed the entire ass was split and frayed, but more interesting to Sean was the front pouch. It seemed that long before they gave out, the front pouch had been stretched and worn this. The fabric near see through in places where it had been pushed beyond its intended size limit time and time again. Sean remembered the huge bulge Clint had stuffed into these briefs the night before. What a sick thought. He couldn’t think about his dad’s dick that way. But still the same, his own dick twitched in his underwear. Wait. Where we’re his clothes? He looked around. He didn’t remember his dad taking them off of him. But he couldn’t find them anywhere. He also couldn’t go out looking for them with his hard on. But he ALSO couldn’t jerk off in his dads bed to get it to go away. He felt trapped like a horny teenager. He opted to text his dad once he gained some sense. *hey dad I just woke up. I can’t find my clothes, would you know where they are?* He waited for a reply. With each passing moment the sights in his dad’s room peaked his curiosity, the shirt and underwear weren’t the only clothes on the floor. In fact, they were near a pile of clothes. Sean walked over to them, maybe there was something he could wear. He picked up a pair of pants from the pile, a large hole tore from the crotch down the leg of the pants. He picked up a XXXL shirt. It was mostly in tact, except the arms had been ripped off and there were tears in the front where his dad’s chest must have stretched it too far. Shirt after shirt, pant after pant, every item in the pile was worn and torn, every pair of underwear held the same stretch marks in the pouch as if his dad could never find underwear big enough to hold him for long. Of fact. It seemed like none of the clothes held him for long. His phone chimed and he jumped. *you spilled beer on them last night. I took them off before we came inside. They’re in the dryer now. I’m outside so you can come out of the room and grab them.* Sean crept out of the room, aware he had no idea where the laundry was, but it was a small house, it wouldn’t be hard to find. He walked down the hallway toward the living room, he opened the door in the hall. It was a bathroom, but completely new and redone. Sean took a minute to appreciate the work his dad had put into it. Since it was the only bathroom in the house he had gone all out apparently. The shower was set deep into the wall, no door or curtain, but set fair enough back that no water would escape. The stonework making up the shower blended into the stone on the floor, all hand laid. The back of the shower had several different lights and shower heads, but it was wide. The shower dominated much of that corner of the bathroom. There were double vanities on the opposite wall, only, the wall was covered in mirrors. Not just a mirror behind the sinks, but all along the wall was a row of floor to ceiling mirrors, all cleaned and polished to an even shine. An interesting design choice, Sean thought. Walking back into the hallway, he continued to the living room, the bright morning light shining in through a large bay window. The dark leather of the furniture and the fresh hardwood floors give Sean a sense of comfort, that this place was designed to be comfortable just for him. Passing through the dining room he entered the kitchen. The room was quaint, but the new cabinets, freshly installed island with a stove built in, and new fridge dominated the space. On the opposite corner of the room he saw a door with a sign on it that read *laundry, the never ending cycle*. It was cute. Sean crossed the kitchen, looking into the backyard through the window as he walked past the sink and something caught his eye. It was the gleam of a hoe being raised into the air. Sean moved and got a better view. It was Clint, his father. He was outside working on his garden. He was breaking up the ground, but the work on the garden wasn’t what enticed Sean to keep looking. Clint was shirtless, his form on full display in the morning light. Right now Sean could only see his back. The wide lats flairing out as he raised the hoe to bring it down to the ground. As it struck Earth his muscles shook with force. As he raised the hoe again his back muscles flexed, bunching up around his shoulder blades and bulging under his tanned skin. He was so sweaty the lines of sweat ran down his back and into his jeans. The jeans were painted onto his ass, the sweat forming a darker line in the denim down hjs deep crack. Sean noticed he was still in his underwear and rock hard. His cock forming a small wet spot of precum. He was also painfully aware he was getting worked up over his own dad. He quickly looked away from the window. He turned and leaned against the sink. Contemplating. His thoughts raced. How could he be so unlucky and so lucky at the same time. He had his dad back, not only that, his dad was a walking wet dream, but it was still his father. Consumed by the thoughts he almost didn’t notice the sound of the back door opening. “Sean!” Clint called. Fuck! Sean thought as he scrambled to cover himself but it was too late. Clint rounded the corner to see him standing there, cock hard and dripping. But that wasn’t the biggest issue. Taking in his dad from the front. His wide frame filling the doorway. His shoulders were cannons of power, leading down to his massive arms, covered in veins popping from his work his biceps swollen from exertion and the head of his bicep flexed, the size of a melon. Clint crossed his arms, folding them under his chest and seeming to lift them up. As he did his biceps fought for space with his massive chest. Clint entire body was immaculate, but his chest was on another level. His huge pecs lifted and supported from below by his thick forearms. The deep deep crevice between his chest seeming to disappear into darkness as the muscles bunched together. The striations emanating from the center and leading to the deep intentions at the edge of each huge mound of muscle. Lowering his arms, Sean saw his nipples. Dark, hard, and the size of half dollars. The entire expanse of muscular chest covered in a dark thick fur. His muscles so huge the definition was noticeable under the thick mat of fur. Moving down Sean saw his dads large abs, the gut he once had was now 4 abs, prominent, but not a flat aesthetic washboard. He was the perfect muscle daddy. His jeans from the front were again painted over his large quads, and the bulge in front was just as obvious as it was last night in his briefs. Sean realized he’d been staring for too long. His cock ready to explode. His dad standing there staring at him as well. The entire form of his dripping with sweat and power. His body seeming to shine as the layer of sweat over his body reflected the bright kitchen lights. “You still looking for your clothes son?” “I uh well I…” “It’s okay son. Everyone gets hard in the morning, I do too. No need to hide anything from me.” Sean moved behind the island, “still though. Could you turn around and let me put some clothes on first?” “Sure son.” And Clint turned around. Sean hurried to the drier and grabbed his pants out and slid them on. Positioning his cock so it didn’t show and he slid on his shirt. “Okay dad.” “You sure slept well last night.” Clint said turning back around. Sean getting weak in his knees again as he got to see his dad’s muscles on display. “Are you okay Sean, you look pale.” “Oh I. Um. Hangover. You know. I don’t drink much.” “I understand. Well. I’m just going to spend the day fixing up the garden out back. I understand if you want to head home now. But I hope you’ll visit soon.” “Yeah. I do need to go home and shower and change clothes.” Sean admitted, “but I really enjoyed last night. Maybe I can come back over and help you plant your garden, I’m sure the bell would be nice.” Clint beamed a smile, “I’d love that son.” “Alright well let me go change and I’ll be back soon.” “If you want to stay tonight you can. I’m really enjoying getting to know my son.” Clint said, his smile refusing to go away. Sean went for the doorway to leave but Clint was blocking him. Clint opened his arms and pulled Sean into a hug. Shoving his face deep into his sweaty pecs, Sean reaching around his huge dad and feeling the dramatically large muscles freshly pumped from his work outside. His large arms sucking him in deeper into the deep striated hairy chest. Clint stepped back quickly. “Sorry son. I forgot I was so sweaty!” “It’s okay. I need to shower anyway haha.” He quickly left, his cock about to explode in his pants from feeling the big muscles and smelling the manly scent off his body. Sean drove home. Quickly getting into his place he stripped down and jerked off, as he did he pictured his dads huge flexing body, his hairy sweaty chest, his heavy arms at the side. He was close and the image of his dad’s cock shoved into the briefs, stretching them so that they’re nearly see through, and he came. Sean shot a load that flew past his head and hit the headboard of his bed. He lay there, panting, and disgusted with himself. He just jerked off to the thought of his own father. He stood in the shower, regretting what he’d done, but all the same every time he pictures Clint’s big body blocking the doorway as he left, and being pulled into that hug, his cock got rock hard again. Sean got out and got dressed. He was determined to make this relationship with his dad work, and to overcome his dark desires. Driving back to Clint’s home he rehearsed in his head what he would say to himself to keep his mind away from his lustful thoughts. Pulling into the driveway Sean steeled himself. Making his mind an iron cage. Walking through the house he repeated his mantras to himself, preparing, it shouldn’t be this much work he thought. I shouldn’t have to convince myself so much not to get a boner from my dad. He opened the back door, and all bets were off. Whereas this morning Clint was in jeans, he had now torn the legs off and he was in a pair of fresh denim short shorts, the white tassels still hanging uneven and loose where Clint had clear just used his bare hands to tear his jeans off. “Sean! I’m so glad you’re back so soon. Grab that bucket with seeds off the porch and let’s get to planting. Sean hoisted up the bucket and found it a bit heavy. He lugged the bucket across the yard to the garden. Stopping a few feet from his dad, Clint was squatted down, the waistline of his shorts pulling down, and revealing a his red and black jockstrap. Sean felt his knees go weak again. If there’s one thing that made a big muscle daddy more attractive to Sean, it was seeing them in skimpy underwear and jockstraps, bulging out in the front and back. Clint stood and turned, face Sean; Sean made every effort to look down at the seed bucket and not to gaze directly into his dad’s tanned muscular chest. “So how can I help?” Sean asked. “Did you think the bucket was heavy?” Clint replied. “A little.” Sean hated to admit it. Knowing it took his strength and both hands to bring it over here he barely kept the 5 gallon bucket off the ground. “Alright then I’ll carry the bucket,” Clint picked up the bucket swiftly with one hand, the weight not impacting him one bit, “I’ll hand you seeds and you plant them in the holes I’ve already made.” Sean began to walk down the row of premade holes, every few steps he would stop, bend over, reach back, his dad would place a seed in his hand, and he would plant it. Sean became aware that each time he bend over, the bottom of his ass shown, perhaps he’d chosen a pair of shorts that were a bit too short. As Sean made his way down the rows Clint followed closely behind him, diligently placing the correct number and type of see in his hand each time he reached back. Sean was looking ahead and he noticed that two of the holes were closer to each other than the others. Suddenly Sean stopped and bent over to take care of the irregularly placed hole. All at once Clint bumped into him, knocking him to the dirt. Sean knew what he felt. He felt his dad’s massive bulge shove against his ass. As he lay on the ground, he rolled over to get up. As he rolled over he looked up and saw a sight that sent blood rushing to his cock. His father stood over him. His thick tree trunk legs leading up to his massive upper body. Every muscle still pumped and sweaty from his morning outside. But the center of it all was the bulge in his short denim shorts. He zipper on the front pushed out, threatening to burst, the weight of his cock weighing down the shorts so much the top of his pubic hair was showing. Sean couldn’t hardly see his dad’s face over the large overhang of his pecs. As he lay in his dad’s massive shadow, he realized how long he’d been staring at Clint’s cock. His dad leaned forward and extended a hand, his cheeks blushing. Sean grabbed his dad’s large calloused hand. Clint gripped Sean’s much smaller hand and with the strength of one arm, hauled his son up to his feet. The two stood there, staring at each other for a brief moment, which seemed to last for ages. Sean looking from the large heaving sweaty chest in front of him, to the big bulge that was stuck out so far that it was nearly touching his stomach. “Sorry son. I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t mean to knock you down.” Clint was authentically apologetic. “It’s okay dad.” And Sean wiped the dirt off of his face and front, “let’s get back to planting.” Sean was begging for any excuse to take his attention off his dad before his little dick busted in his shorts. The two continued on and finished the planting. “I think that’s enough work for today, you’re starting to get a sunburn. Let’s head inside.” As they walked inside, Clint stopped and grabbed a few beers from a cooler. The cold aluminum dripping with ice, Clint help them to his chest as he closed the cooler. The cold can making his fat nipple erect. Sean could swear he saw his dad’s cock jump in the shorts, but he knew it was just his imagination. Clint tossed a beer to Sean, “No thanks. I over did it last night. I think I’ll stick to water tonight.” “Suit yourself son. But they’re here if you need to loosen up a bit.” And then Clint walked inside. His big thighs rubbing together and giving him a slight waddle to his walk where they were just slightly too large for his body. Up the stairs and Sean was on trying to focus on anything except his dad’s two massive ass cheeks bouncing in front of him. Inside, Sean sat down at the table, “why don’t you go sit on the couch?” Clint offered. “Ah. I don’t want to ruin it with this dirt and sweat.” “Do you have any extra clothes with you?” Sean in fact did. He’d packed a few shirts and underwear and pants just in case he got offered to stay the night again. “Uh. I have underwear and shorts, but no shirt.” Sean was playing an angle. He wondered if it would pay off. “Hmm,” Clint rubbed his chin, scratching at his even scruff that accentuated his masculine jawline, “I guess you could wear one of my shirts. You’d be swimming in it, but you could…” “Yes!” Sean said a little too quickly and a little too enthusiastically. “Alright. Go ahead and take a shower. I’ll bring a towel and a shirt into the bathroom for you. I’ll shower after, and then we can talk about dinner.” Sean’s plan worked. He wanted to wear one of those shirts that his dad’s huge muscles had stretched out. He wanted to feel how big it was on his small body, to be intimately familiar with just how large his dad was. Sean walked to his car and grabbed his bag and then back inside to the bathroom. He closed the door, stripped off his dirty clothes, and then proceeded into the deep shower. Sean stood and looked at the different nozzles, switches, and soon he figured he wasn’t entirely sure how the shower worked. Just then he heard a knock at the door, and heard it opening. “Sean? Are you in here?” “Yeah dad. I can’t figure out how the shower works.” “Would you like the to come in and show you?” “I don’t have any clothes on, dad.” “Nudity doesn’t bother me, unless it bothers you, son. Nothing I haven’t seen before. If it would be better I’ll leave the bathroom, let you put on a towel, then come back in and start the shower and leave.” Sean considered. He also agreed that nudity wasn’t a big deal. Or was that the lust he had for his dad clouding his thoughts? No. He didn’t want his dad to go through all that other shit to turn the shower on. “Well?” “That’s okay. You can come in and show me. I don’t care.” Sean’s heart was beating out of his chest. What was he doing. This was so wrong. But the thought of it made him so excited. He faced the back wall and heard his dad’s heavy footsteps in the bathroom, then the stone floor of the shower, “you’re going to have to move so I can get to the controls haha.” Clint said. “Oh right.” Sean said, turning. He tried to focus on ANYTHING but his dad. Willing his cock to not get hard in front of his dad. When he turned, he lost that battle. Turning he immediately was faced with Clint’s huge hairy pecs. His dad so wide that he nearly took up the width of the shower. But that wasn’t what got Sean the most. Clint was only in his jockstrap. Sean looked down reflexively, without thought. While he was staring at his dad’s chest, Clint’s huge bulge was almost touching his stomach. The cock so large it was pushing out the jockstrap pouch. Sean could see the thick base of his dad’s cock. Immediately Sean got rock hard. His much smaller dick poking out and almost touching his dad’s hairy leg. The two stood there for what seemed like ages. Sean swimming in his desire, fighting it at the same time, mortified his dad had seen him get hard. He had no idea what to do. Then Clint turned to his side, “go ahead. Shuffle past me.” Even turned to his side he still took up a considerable amount of the shower width being as thick as he was. Sean pressed himself against the wall and began to move past his dad. As he did, his cock rubbed against Clint’s leg, his face scrapped against his dad’s chest, and that bulge had definitely gotten bigger as Sean moved past his dad, the package rubbed across his tight stomach, catching and bouncing as he moved. He could of sworn he heard his dad moan the quietest moan. And then he was standing behind Clint. The big man had to bend over slightly to reach the controls, and when he did his furry ass cheeks parted. Sean saw his dad’s huge muscle bubble butt on full display, covered in a light dusting of dark hair. The shower came on and doused both of them in a shockingly cold burst of water from all directions, gradually warming. Clint turned to his side again, inviting Sean to step back into the shower. Sean again moved past his dad, this time taking his time as his cock drug across his dad’s quads. Clint had to be flexing them, they were so hard, Sean’s sensitive cock head felt every striation and cut in the muscle. His dad’s swelling cock pushed further into his stomach, he could clearly feel the huge head of the cock through the wet jockstrap, and he could see more of the base of the long veiny cock as it had grown and pushed the pouch out even further. His face still scrapping against his dad’s hairy chest, he could also swear his dad was flexing and swelling his chest, he felt his mouth graze across Clint’s hard thick nipples as he moved deeper into the shower. The moment that seemed to last forever passed. Clint turned and started to walk out of the shower, “just turn the center knob down to turn the water off.” He said as he left the bathroom. Sean leaned against the shower wall, absolutely in heat over his dad’s massive body, his thick cock, the flexing, the moaning, he knew he didn’t make that up in his head, it had happened, he was sure. He wanted to jerk off. His cock needed release, but he couldn’t. His head was too full of racing thoughts. He quickly washed and got out of the shower. He put on his underwear and shorts and then picked up the shirt his dad had gotten him. An XXXL red Golds Gym shirt. Sliding it over his head he noticed the elastic in the neck was stretch from Clint’s thick neck muscles. Putting his arms through the holes, he saw that both of them were torn and ripped along the biceps where it had been flexed through. The red fabric around the chest was stretched and worn around the edges where Clint’s heavy pecs had pushed the shirt to its limits many times. The shirt on total hanging down to his knees. Sean opened the door to the bathroom and walked towards the living room, as he rounded the corner into the living room, he expected to see his dad, but he heard the bathroom door shut quickly behind him. Sean settled on the couch. Completely unsure of what to do with himself. His thoughts still racing, he needed to silence them. He looked around for a remote to the large tv hanging on the wall. He turned it on and left it on whatever it was, some old movie he was sure. Remembering his dad’s offer he walked to the back porch and grabbed some beers. That would help quiet his mind. Sean downed the first beer quickly, feeling the effects on his body, he relaxed, lowered into the couch, and opened a second. He heard the bathroom door open, and another door close. A few minutes later, Clint emerged into the living room. He was wearing a stringer tank top, ripped completely down the sides, his wide chest sticking out of each side. His nipples still hard. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatshorts, hugging his large thighs, and a prominent full bulge in the front; however Sean noticed it was much reduced in swelling from when he rubbed against it in the shower. Scratching his stomach as he walked in, his hair still slightly wet from the shower, “what do you think we should have for dinner, son? I’m thinking some big steaks on the grill.” Clint smiled down at Sean, who sat on the couch completely covered in the huge shirt. “That sounds good, do you need any help?” “I don’t need any help, but I could use the company.” The two made their way to the back porch, Clint grabbing the steaks and seasonings. Out back Clint started the grill and let it heat up. He sat down and Sean fought the urge to look at his huge dad relaxing in the chair. “So dad. I have to ask….” Clint cut him off, “when did I get so big?” He eyed his son, watching for a reaction. Sean tried to hide his shock that Clint had guessed. “Well. Like I said yesterday. I started receiving testosterone injections to help with my low T. At the same time I started working out to help with that and depression. They offered me a new type of medication for low T, some kind of gene therapy mRNA thing I’m not really sure. The point was it was meant to spur my body to naturally create more testosterone so I wouldn’t need injections too often. But. The therapy worked a little too well. I had so much energy, I spent every spare minute running or working out or fixing up this house. Every day I just got bigger and bigger. My test levels remained at slightly above average for months, but the gene therapy had some side effects.” Clint paused and gauged Sean’s reaction, but Sean seemed stoic, taking in the story. “You see. Every muscle on my body got bigger, if you know what I mean,” Clint looked down at his bulge, “my balls got bigger, and I got worried about cancer or something. I went to the doctor and they told me that other genes had been affected. I was able to create more muscle. I was creating more HGH, more Insulin, more Cortisol, basically my body had converted into a muscle growth factory. The doctor recommended I workout as often as possible to keep up with hormone production to avoid any more side effects. So I kept working out and growing. Slowly I plateaued and my growth started to become more regular and normal. Hormones stabilized and that was a few months ago. But the habits of working out and shit stuck so now I’m just left with this huge body, the hornyness of a teenager, more body hair, and a desire to workout.” Clint’s story seemed to end. “So. Are the side effects like hormones gone forever?” Sean asked. “They aren’t sure. It’s an experimental thing so I’m still being monitored for long term side effects. But for now I’m happy where I am.” The grilled had reached temperature, and Clint placed the steaks on the rack. “Having all my depression gone and all that energy really gave me time to focus on who I was as a person and to decide on how to repair my relationship with you. So I’m grateful for all of it.” “Well, I know we’ve only been reconnected since yesterday. But I’m happy that you’re doing well and I’m excited that I finally have my dad back.” Clint turned around from the grill and looked at Sean. “Say, would you be interested in starting to workout with me? I understand if not, but it’s something I’m clearly passionate about and I’d love to share it with you.” How could Sean turn down an offer like this. “Absolutely!” “Are you staying the night again tonight?” Clint asked. “If that’s okay?” Sean said. “Well. Of course. I workout every morning for a few hours, you can join me tomorrow.” Clint finished up the steaks, carefully cooking them to a perfectly tender medium rare, Sean was impressed by his fathers attention to detail in every aspect of his life. He was so put together now. His dad placed a steak on his plate and the two began to eat. In the back of Sean’s mind, it nagged at him. What must his dad think about him? They’ve only been around each other for like 36 hours and already he’s been caught staring, drooling, and getting a boner in front of his dad. He was loosing the fight hard at hiding it all from his dad. “How is it?” Clint asked, snapping Sean back to reality. “It’s really good. Perfectly medium rare. Thanks for cooking dad.” “No problem, son.” Clint paused. “Say. I wanted to apologize if I made you uncomfortable in the shower earlier. Living alone I usually walk around in my underwear and like I said nudity doesn’t bother me, but I didn’t think about how we’d have to rub against each other in the shower.” “It’s okay dad, really. I do the same thing at my house.” “By the way. Thanks for helping me plant the garden today.” “You’re welcome, dad. I’ve been wanting to spend more time outside and I’ve always wanted to try out gardening, I just never made the time for it.” “I have an idea.” Clint said, finishing his steak and wiping his mouth, “what’s your favorite movie?” “Umm. I’d have to say the Terminator movies.” “Interesting.” Clint replied. “Why is it interesting?” “Arnold was one of my inspirations while I was working out. We have very similar chest insertions so I took ideas from his chest workouts.” “If you don’t mind me saying, dad, I think your chest is bigger than his.” Clint smiled, “of course I don’t mind. And thank you.” Clint inhaled and swelled his pecs up, pulling the stringer down so it was trapped between the two mountainous muscles, and then he bounced them. Slowly rolling and flexing the muscles, rolling them, each fiber of muscle pulsing with power, at full flex they were so puffed up they rubbed against the stubble on his chin. Sean shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his boner begging for attention. Clint seemed far away. Mesmerized by the size of his own huge chest. He continued to slowly flex his pecs, squeezing them together by brining his arms together, the deep chasm between them growing even deeper, the stringer straps sinking further into Clint’s flexed chest. Sean knew he had to say or do something before he came in his pants watching his dad flex his pecs. “What’s your favorite movie, dad?” “What? Oh. Sorry. I got caught up didn’t I?” “I don’t think so.” Sean said. “I just wanted to know your favorite movie too.” “Well. Probably Stand Talk or the Rocky movies.” “Why’d you ask my favorite movie, dad?” “I want to keep getting to know you. So I was thinking we could watch your favorite movie tonight. Would you be okay with that?” “For sure!” “Alright. I’ll clean up out here, do you think you can handle turning the movie on in the living room?” “I think I can manage.” The two separated. Clint cleaning up dinner, and Sean going into the living room. Where to sit was a decision. On one hand he could sit on the couch WITH his dad, or he could sit on the chair and be able to LOOK at his dad. He played the options in his head, deciding that it would be better to sit with him and not put himself in the situation where he gets caught staring…again. He turned on the tv and began to search for the movie. He heard his dad’s heavy footsteps approaching and he turned to see Clint standing at the threshold of the living room, arms crossed, smiling. “What?” Sean said smiling. “Nothing. You just look so small in my old shirt.” “I mean. It’s an XXXL so yeah haha.” Sean flexed his scrawny biceps, the extra fabric of the stretched and ripped arm hold hanging loosely off his bicep. “It’s crazy that I outgrew that just last month.” “Hey. I have an idea before we watch this movie. If you’re up for it?” “What’s that?” Sean replied. “I’m entering into a bodybuilding competition next month. I’d like to show you my posing routine, I know you may not know much about it, but I still think you’d give great feedback. If not we can just start the movie.” Sean saw the pride in his dad’s eyes. He knew how proud his dad was of his body, and he wanted to make his son proud, he wanted to show off his hard work. “Alright dad. I’d love to.” “Great!” Clint said, almost leaping in the air, “I’ll go put on my posers and get the oil!” Sean’s head was swimming. Why did he agree to that. He knew it would be entirely impossible to hide his lust from his dad. Fuck. He almost came in his pants watching him flex just his chest while wearing clothes. Now his dad was going to be covered in oil, in nothing but a tiny posing suit, flexing just in front of him. He was doomed. He’d let his dick win the thinking contest with his brain. Thundering down the hallway he could hear his dad returning. The big man walked in front of the couch and Sean nearly fainted. In front of him was his dad, holding a large bottle of body oil. He was completely nude, save for the tiniest bright yellow poser. The front of the poser looked as if his dad had stashed a honeydew melon inside, although Sean couldn’t make out any details, it was simply a large smooth bulge. The waistband sat just below his Adonis belt. “Well I didn’t realize that I’d already kind of outgrew this poser.” Clint admitted, “but it still kinda fits. Just a bit tight, and it fits more like a thong in the back. But it’ll work for tonight.” “Here!” Clint said, excitedly handing Sean the bottle of oil. “Help me put this on. It’ll be like a real competition look.” Oh no. Sean couldn’t do this. It was one thing to look at his dad, but touch him? There was no way he could do that. His rubbing his daddy’s huge muscles would cross a line that he wasn’t sure he could come back from. Sean took the oil. He fought within himself. Either crush his dad’s happiness right now, or risk losing everything when his dad saw him getting horny for his muscles. He cracked open the bottle, and Clint turned around, “start with my back.” Sean took in the sight of his dad’s wide back, the deep grooves in the muscles. Clint pulled his shoulder blades together, and then extending his lats out. So wide that alone they had to be larger than Sean’s wingspan. Sean dropped the oil onto the top of his dad’s shoulders, having to reach above his head and almost stand in his toes to reach the top of the large man’s back. The oil ran down, following along the lines of the flexed protruding back muscles. The oil continued down, hitting the waistband at the top of Clint’s globular ass. That ass was eating the thong like poser, the material completely embedded into his furry crack. Sean began to massage in the oil. Taking his time, not only appreciating his dad’s size and the feel of his huge muscles moving under his hands, but also willing his cock to not get hard. But that was a fight he was losing. Sean worked his way down to Clint’s legs. Each leg had to be bigger around than his waist. As he reached around to cover the full leg, Clint had to widen his stance so Sean could access where his big thighs rubbed together. As he parted his legs, Sean saw the heavy bulge hanging down like a forbidden fruit hanging from a tree. He continued down the legs, working the oil into Clint’s diamond shaped calves, his dad moving his legs to flex and pose his calf muscle as Sean worked the oil. Still on his knees, he finished his dad’s backside, except one area. He had neglected oiling Clint’s bubble butt. “Uh. Son. You forgot to get my glutes.” “Are you sure it’s okay for me to touch you there?” “Of course. Someone will have to do it for every show I’m in. I have to be comfortable with it.” Sean settled on his knees. Dripping oil onto his dad’s massive butt. He placed his hands onto one large cheek, and Clint flexed the huge muscle, turning it stone hard under Sean’s hands. He worked the other cheek. His cock ached in his shorts, he was thankful for the large shirt that covered up his small bulge. Sean moved his face close to his dad’s big ass, his lips inches from his dad’s hairy hole. Then Clint turned around. The speed at which he turned, Sean didn’t have time to move, and his dad’s massive bulge smacked him in the face. The heavy meat knocking him off balance and sending him to the floor. “Oh shit!” Clint said reaching down and helping Sean back up to his knees. “Sorry son!” “It’s okay dad.” Sean said, trying not to stare at the huge cock in front of him. But he saw it looked noticeably larger than when they had started. Was his dad getting hard? “I guess I’m still learning how to wield this.” Clint said, gripping his bulge with one large hand, but the size of the package was too big to be contained even by his dad’s paw. He shook it a few times, the heavy yellow sack again seeming to swell with the attention. Sean quickly stood up. Unable to look any longer. He applied the oil to his dad’s pecs. Clint kept them relaxed throughout. The huge mass kneading under his small hands. It took both hands to partially cover one of Clint’s huge pecs. Sean worked the oil into the deep crevice between the pecs, his hand completely disappearing between the masses of muscle. Clint leaned forward, “don’t forget the top of my chest, my traps, and shoulders.” Sean complied pressing his hands into the defined muscles. “Alright. Now my arms and we’re done. You know. Next time I’ll have to shave and get a pump in first so you can really see the size and definition.” Clint lowered his flexed bicep. Sean practically drooled as he applied the oil. The head of Clint’s big Boulder hard biceps had a thick vein running across it. The biceps had to be the size of basketballs. Sean was in heaven. His cock twitched and jumped in his pants, the slightest breeze right now would send him over the edge. As he finished oiling his dad’s bicep he looked down. The heavy cock in the yellow poser was indeed swelling, it now pushed the waistband down and out, allowing Sean to once again see the thick base of Clint’s cock, big veins visible as blood pumped in his cock. Sean stepped back and took a quick breath. “Alright. Now sit down and watch.” Clint stepped back as Sean sat on the couch. Doing his best to hide his small bulge. Clint began. He first hit an immaculate double bicep pose. The peaks of the biceps rising up. He then moved into a most muscular pose, his pecs reddening with the blood flow to make them swell. The striations rippling and rolling. Clint’s big abs and the deep grooves between them causing them to pop. Clint turned to his side. Pulling back his arms into a side chest pose, showing off the incredible thickness of his watermelon sized pecs. His big hard nipples forced to point down to the ground by the weight of the muscle. Clint then flexed his tricep, the deep horseshoe shaped muscle exploding out. Clint turned around. Spreading his legs and then pinching his shoulder blades together, he set his arms on his hips, and he started to expand his lats. Then. He stopped. Clint’s arms fell to his side. His shoulders began to shake, and if he were incredibly upset. Clint sat down in the large leather chair adjacent to Sean. His head in his hands, a pillow now covering his lap. “Sean. I’m so sorry.” Sean was so confused. “I don’t know what’s wrong dad?” “I’ve been lying to you and using you, Sean. I’m just as terrible as I’ve always been. I’m so ashamed.” “Hey. Hey.” Sean got up and put his arm on Clint’s bronzed boulder shoulder. Clint quickly pulled away. “No son.” “Dad. Tell me what’s wrong.” “I lied to you. I have been with someone since your mom. His name was Brent. He was about your age, a little taller, a little more muscle. I explored my sexuality as I discovered who I was without your mom. But along the way I discovered my type is men much smaller than me. I never intended for this to happen, but when you walked through the door that first day and I saw how handsome you were. It has to be the worst luck. I finally get my son back, and I find out that he’s the embodiment of all my strongest physical attractions.” Clint paused. Looking up at Sean to see if there’s a reaction. When he saw Sean also with his head in his hands, he continued. “I never meant for this to happen. I thought I could keep myself under control. In the shower. In the doorway when you left yesterday, just now with the oil and flexing. I was using you. I hoped you wouldn’t notice, but then I hit you in the face with my cock. I’m so disgusted with myself. I thought I could at least finish posing and then move on. But…I…I started to get more than a semi. Okay. I started to get hard. I’m so sorry son. Sean looked up. Taking in the view of his dad completely broken by this. He was embarrassed, ashamed, disgusted with himself. Sean only saw one way to truly help his dad right now. “I think it’s time I told you a secret dad.” This time. It was Clint’s turn to look up surprised. “You know I’m gay. And it’s funny really. Im exactly your type, and you’re exactly my type. The bigger and hairier the muscles, the more put together the man, the more irresistible they are. And you’re the largest, most out together man I’ve ever met. I’ve had the same sinful thoughts as you. Trying to keep them at bay so I didn’t ruin our relationship already. I’ve had a constant boner around you from the very second I walked into the house, and to be perfectly honest, I was so worked up oiling up your body that I have precum leaking from my underwear right now.” Clint stared at his son. “So. You’re not mad or disgusted or upset with me?” “No dad. And you’re not with me?” “Of course not, Sean.” Sean moved over to his dad. Wedging his way onto Clint’s lap. Straddling bud dad’s thick thigh. Then he leaned in and hugged Clint. Feeling the oil from his hard body. In the hug, Clint reached one large hand up and felt in Sean’s pants for Sean’s hard cock. Gripping it, he could cover the whole thing with just one hand. “Daddy’s muscles get you this hard son?” Sean came. Covering his dad’s hand with his load. Clint pulled his hand out, and licked the cum off his hand. Not breaking eye contact with Sean as he devoured the thick load on his hand. Sean sat. Mouth agape. Then he got bold. He gripped the pillow and ripped it from Clint’s lap. His dad’s cock was pushing the posing strap out so much that he could fit his hand onto the base of Clint’s cock. Sean looked at his dad, and Clint gave him a nod. Clint picked him up and carried him to the bathroom. “Let’s wash this oil off and head to bed, what do you say?” Clint offered. Sean was in ecstasy. But he didn’t need to say yes for Clint to know he was down. In the bathroom, Clint gently sat Sean down. He looked down over his huge chest at Sean. “Wanna see something hot?” Clint said, a grin creeping onto his face. Sean shook his head. “Play with daddy’s nipples.” Sean reached up, spreading his arms wide to get at the nipples on either side of the vast expanse of his dad’s chest. Grabbing the nipples in his fingers he began to pinch and roll them. Clint moaned. “Tell me how big I am.” Clint said. “You’re massive dad. The biggest man I’ve ever seen. So thick. So wide. Your muscles are so hard. So big you hill out of all your clothes.” “That’s it son. Keep going.” Clint’s eyes were closed. He was enjoying the hell out of this. Sean ramped up him assault on the big dark nipples. Using a full hand he groped at his dad’s pecs. “Alright son. I’m almost there. Get on your knees.” Sean complied. He got down on his knees. He was no face to face with the huge bulge between his dad’s legs. The poor fabric was tortured trying to hold back the monster behind it. Sean was his dad’s cock twitching and swelling larger. Each pump of blood into the thick tube pushing the waistband lower, forcing the pouch to expand more and more. “Kiss it.” Clint said. Sean leaned forward. His face right next to the huge package. He gently kissed the expanse, and then licked it. “Ughhhfff!” Clint moaned. Just then Sean hard a *snap* *pop* *snap* and Clint’s posers fell to the ground, his king sized cock hulking out of them. The cock swayed out in front of Clint, the big man looked down at his son, and gently swung his hips so his large cock smacked against Sean’s face. Sean looked up at his dad, from his point of view all he could see was the impossibly thick, long, hard, veiny daddy dick completely dominating his view, and slightly in the field of his vision as he looked up was Clint’s chest, heaving with deep breaths. “What do you think son?” Clint said, peering down at Sean again. Sean sat on his knees. Staring at Clint’s dick. “It’s so fucking big, holy shit.” “Go head. Touch it.” Sean reached forward, his hands not able to reach around the full girth of Clint’s cock. It was hard and hot to the touch. Sean’s small hands were dwarfed by the thick muscle, covering barely half of his dad’s cock. As Sean grabbed the dick, a stream of precum started to leak from the large mushroom head of the cock, running dripping and pooling on the bathroom floor. “Let’s get in the shower and get this oil washed of, what do you say?” Clint winked at Sean as he turned and walked towards the shower. Sean couldn’t move from the floor. What the fuck was he doing? What was happening? He needed to leave, this was so wrong. Sean stood up and followed his dad into the shower, unable to resist the temptation of the bulging muscles and big daddy dick waiting for him. Clint turned on the shower, a warm drizzle sprayed from every direction. Clint grabbed the soap and handed it to Sean, “here. You put this oil on me, you can wash it off.” Clint turned around again, exposing his backside to Sean. Lathering up the washcloth he smelled the aroma of his dad’s body wash, it was such a strong manly scent that Sean knew mixed perfectly with his dad’s natural musk. He began to rub the body wash on the huge back, painting it on like an artist to a canvas, feeling the muscles ripple and flow under his hand as he moved back and forth, from lat to lat. The soap was running down Clint’s back and was being funneled directly into his asscrack. Sean got down on his knees and started to clean the oil off his dad’s ass. The deep dimples turning rock hard as Clint flexed his glutes. He alternated flexing them, left, right, left, right, Sean smiling as he grabbed handfuls of hairy ass in his hands, only to have it removed when it turned to granite under Clint’s command. Clint had already spread his legs to have a wide, steady, stance, but then he leaned forward, placing his hands on the wall in front of him, arching his back, and placing his ass on full view for Sean. Clint didn’t provide any instruction or command, he didn’t need to. Sean leaned forward and slid his hand down the deep, deep crack. His whole hand almost fit between the cheeks before the reached paradise. Clint’s hole. Using both hands, Sean tried to pull the huge cheeks apart, but he couldn’t seem to get them with enough to gain access to the prize. The large muscles too thick and wet for Sean to hope to control them, “what’s wrong son? Too much man for you to handle?” At once Clint stood up and turned around. His cock somehow even more erect than before, the huge organ sticking straight out, and with a slight curve upwards. Sean couldn’t make eye contact with his dad. His internal struggle between his biggest muscle slut size queen dreams on full display in front of him, but it had to be his dad. Clint squatted down, now eye level with Sean. No words were exchanged, they simply locked eyes. Clint then flexed his left bicep, and looked over at it, nodding his head slightly. He pumped it a few time, and Sean began to wash the oil off of the massive gun in front of him. Unable to help himself, he leaned in and kissed the huge head of the bicep, his cock jerking as his lips made contact with the skin covering the iron hard muscle. Then he moved to the right arm. This time Clint flexed the tricep, allowing Sean to see the huge arm muscle that made them so large in the first place. Finally. After working from arm to arm and cleaning Clint’s traps and shoulders, Sean stared at his dad’s pecs. Impossibly huge. Sean cupped one with both hands, barely covering the dense muscle. It was heavy, as he tried to squeeze the pec, he felt just how much muscle was in each slab making up his dad’s barreled chest. Clint began to bounce his pecs, Sean again smiling as the muscles jumped in his hands, Alice with power. They went from dense and heavy to hard as bricks in an instant. Sean dropped the washcloth and moved his hands to the large nipples on either side of Clint’s chest. Moving two fingers in a circular motion, he teased his dad’s big nipples, willing them to get hard in his fingers. Clint’s nipples were hard wired to his cock, which was jumping wildly between Sean’s legs. The big cock swinging back and forth as Clint accepted the pleasure of muscle worship from his son. His heavy dick slapping against Sean’s tiny legs with wet smacks and slaps. In turn, Clint lowered himself even further, bringing his chest to Sean’s waiting cock. What was he doing? Did Sean need to move? Then Clint reached around Sean with his huge wingspan and engulfed the boy in a sort of hug. Sean’s cock plunging between his dad’s wet slippery pecs. Sean felt his cock sink deeper and deeper between the big muscles and Clint bounced them. Unfortunately it didn’t last long because the feeling of his dad’s hairy flexing muscles chest was too much and Sean came. His cock pumping his load in between his dad’s pecs. Clint pulled back and looked down, his son’s cum dripping in his thick cleavage. “Clean dads up, won’t you?” And he rose again, his chest again eye level with Sean. “I’m a little too short.” Sean said, confused why his dad had stood up. But then he felt it. Thick and long between his legs. Throbbing. “Let me help you.” And Clint lifted Sean off the ground. Sean’s body trapped between his dad’s large cock and his dad’s rock hard physique. His face staring directly into the cum soaked hair of Clint’s chest, Clint put his arms behind Sean’s head and pulled him in. Sean began to lick and tongue the deep striations in between his dad’s pecs, working to remove all of his cum from Clint. Sean felt his dad’s cock pulsing and twitching as it rode up his back. As he finished he looked up at Clint, who sat Sean back down. Turned around and turned off the water. “Okay. Let’s dry off and get the fuck to bed.” The two dried off quickly and poorly, both too excited to get down the hallway. Clint picked up Sean and carried him over his shoulder to the bedroom like he was a sack of flour. Sean’s view down his dad’s front from this angle was just sPECtacular. The hairy tits, the thick thighs, the bobbing cock. It was like before, but better. Clint threw Sean on the bed, and stood at the edge, hands in his hips in a signature dominant pose. “I have one more thing to tell you son.” “What’s that, dad?” “I HATE to jerk off or cum anywhere that isn’t a tight warm hole. I haven’t came in weeks, waiting for a nice hole to come around. Are you going to be a good boy and let daddy fill up your hole?” Sean gulped, he’d only ever had toys inside himself. There was no way his dad’s monster cock could fit inside him without breaking him in half. “I. I don’t know dad. It’s so big.” Clint took a step forward, towering and looming over Sean. He grabbed his cock with one hand, flexed a huge bicep with the other, and began to smack the huge head of his cock against Sean’s tight wet hole. “Oh yeah. Daddy’s fucking huge. God son I have such a big load for you.” “Please let me worship your cock more!” Sean pleaded. “Alright. But don’t think I’m going to neglect that hole.” Clint laid down on his back on the bed. He grabbed Sean by the waist and lifted him in the air. “Damn son. You’re so light.” Clint began to press Sean up and down like he was benching. Sean reached down, feeling his dad’s strong arms, hard chest, thick forearms as Clint pushed out rep after rep. “You’re so strong.” Sean whimpered out. “Yeah. You like these big muscles?” Clint teased. Lowering Sean down one last time, he sat his son down on his chest, Sean’s ass facing Clint’s face. “Worship that cock son. I’m going to work your right little hole.” Sean fell forward. His dad’s hard stomach catching him, the huge cock rising in front of him. Grabbing it with both hands, he held his father cock in front of him. Clint gripped each of Sean’s asscheeks, one in each large hand. His dad’s hands were hard and calloused from years of working out and doing manual labor. He pulled Sean’s ass open and dove his face in. Clint’s stubble rubbing against his bare ass. Then, his dad’s big tongue rimming his hole. Sean looked his dad’s cock head on. The head flaring wildly, a steady stream of precum coming out. Sean lost one final fight in his mind. Every predisposition he’d held, the memories of his dad, the apprehension because it was his dad. He couldn’t fight it anymore. He wanted this cock so fucking bad. He leaned forward and with his tongue, he licked from the base, up, and up, and up his dads rigid cock. At the top, he tasted the pre. Stretching his mouth as far as he could, he inhaled the head of his dad’s monster cock. Clint moaned into his Son’s ass as his huge sensitive dick was assaulted my the warm embrace of Sean’s tight warm throat. The cock swelled in Sean’s hands and mouth as his dad got even more turned on, the girth swelling in his hands, the tip expanding in his mouth. Sean worked his hands up and down the length of Clint’s cock, his tongue working over every inch he could reach. Clint upped his game, he inserted one large, thick finger into Sean. Sean moaned on his dads dick, relaxing his hips. As he did, his cock sank again between his dad’s huge pecs. The embrace of his dad’s thick hairy chest encasing Sean’s small cock was heaven. Clint bounced his pecs as he worked his son’s hole with one hand, and smacked it with the other. “Fuck. Boy liked his daddy’s tits doesn’t he?” Sean couldn’t take the huge cock out of his mouth, he simply sucked harder in response. Spit and excess precum ran down Clint’s throbbing meat as his son worked at a feverish pace. Clint inserted another finger. Then three. Spreading open Sean’s virgin hole. Sean was in ecstasy, operating in animal instinct as he devoured the huge cock before him. Finally, Clint slowly pulled his fingers from Sean’s hole. “I think you’re ready son.” Sean looked back at his dad. The squares jawline and massive muscles pulling him in. Sean crawled up Clint’s huge body, and kissed him. Clint’s big tongue forcing its way into his mouth, the big man wrapping his arms around his son and pulling him right into his big body. Clint’s cock poked at Sean’s stretched hole, begging, threatening to stretch it further. Clint pushed Sean away, “one more thing before I fuck you.” Sean looked at his dad with anticipation. “Worship daddy’s balls.” Sean nearly came. The sentence so absolute and commanding, so taboo, so fucking hot. He lowered himself to Clint’s huge nuts. They each had to be the size of kiwis, and equally as fuzzy. He licked and sucked on balls so large he could only worship one at a time, the thought not lost that he was feasting on had created him. When they were sufficiently wet, Clint’s cock was overflowing with precum, and Sean’s hole was prepped, Clint made the executive decision he couldn’t wait much longer. With a quickness that should be impossible for a man his size, Clint flipped Sean onto his back underneath him. Placing Sean’s legs a top his shoulders, and bringing his hairy gorilla arms down on either side of Sean. “Tell me you want it.” Clint growled. Sean bucked his hips, rubbing his hole along the length of his dad’s cock. “I want it dad.” “Tell me what you want.” “I want your huge daddy dick. I want all that muscle to fuck me.” “Mmm. You’re so fucking hot son. I’m going to take good care of you.” Clint poked his cockhead at Sean’s tight sphincter. “Relax son. You’ve gotta really want it.” Sean relented, wanting nothing more than to be his fathers fuck toy. Clint’s huge cockhead slid inside. Clint threw his head back in pleasure as he began to fuck his son.

Part 1 Jesus Christ. What a long fucking day. Sean tossed his satchel over his shoulder as he left work. 8 clients back to back, each more taxing them the last. The weight of his full satchel a burden on his thin shoulders. Sean walked down the stairs to his office, out of breath from the exertion; and then he climbed into his car. Say what you want about Sean, but his job provided him with plenty of disposable income. He climbed into his new luxury car, starting up easy, and rolling out of the parking garage smooth as ice. For only being 27, Sean had made a comfortable life for himself. His parents had never really been huge influences on his life, and he had made his own way since he was 15. Getting his first salary job after college, climbing the ladder, and slowly gaining his independence from his family has been everything he’d ever wanted. Sean pulled out of the parking garage, his wheels hitting smooth pavement as he drove out of the city. Sean listened to public radio on his drive home, relaxing into his average every day afternoon commute. It was when Sean got home that he stripped his mask and dove into his true personality. Stripping off his suit and tie, his long socks and business loafers, Sean settled into the couch in only his underwear. He opened a gay chat app and began to message the men back. Each of of them a burly daddy type, thick hair, thicker muscles, and a love for skinny younger guys. Sean fit that bill perfectly, at 27 he had barely grown since he started college. 5’8” and 130lbs he was a small man, but he was hot none the less. Bud strong jaw line, defined abs, and model status face sealed the deal for him more often than not. One thing about Sean though. He was more of a tease and flirt. He preferred to play the field, work these men up to a fevered pitch, and then cut them off; leaving them horny and wanting more, sending messages, pictures, and videos frivolously vying for his attention. Sean loved the attention he received from these men, but there was really only one daddy he truly craved connection with. When he was 17 and came out to his parents, a decade ago, his dad had shut him out. Physically, emotionally, mentally. Sean felt his last few years in his home he was a stranger living in a foreign hostile. Sean’s dad, Clint, had always been a man’s man, he worked a blue collar job, worked out when he could, drove a pick-up truck. Sean never expected him to accept him, but he also never expected what came next. As he scrolled through his app, teasing the older men, his dad texted him. Odd. *Hey Sean. I know it’s been a while but I’d really like it if you could give me a call when you’re available.” A wave of nausea and worry washed over Sean, his dad NEVER reached out to him. Something extraordinary must have happened. Sean was all at once needing to call his dad to settle his curiosity, and too intimidated and stunned to actually make the call. Sean went to shower, an ice cold shower always helped him calm down and think clearly. He undressed, his lean nearly hairless body reflecting in the mirror. Sean’s body may not have been too athletic, but his face told a different story. A strong, even jawline set his face, accentuated by his high cheekbones and well proportioned nose. His dark green eyes the color of an evergreen tree in late winter. His brown hair tossed and falling evenly, with a bit of curl. Sean knew he was a stunner, he had been approached many times to model for different projects around his small town. Sean got out of the shower, dried off, and sat on the edge of his bed. He fumbled around with his phone, still wet and cold, but he could only focus on the phone call with his dad he knew he needed to make. He slowly dialed the number, and pressed call. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Voicemail. “Hi dad, it’s Sean. I was calling in response to your text. Call me when you can.” No sooner than he’d hung up, his dad called back. “Hello, Sean.” “Hi dad.” “How are you doing?” “I’m okay. Dad is everything alright?” “Not really, son. Your mom. She. She.” Sean could hear his dad tearing up over the call. “It’s okay dad. Tell me what happened.” “She left me.” Sean heard she sobs for a moment. He let his dad cry. “I’m so sorry dad. I hope you’re okay.” Still keeping himself distant from his dad. “No. It’s okay Sean. I’m not upset she left. In fact I’m happy. I wanted to see if you’d come over for dinner. There’s some thing I want to talk about. But I want to do it face to face.” “Uh. I. Uhhh. Sure dad. When?” “As soon as you can. Tomorrow is Friday night, does that work for you?” Sean took pause. That was so soon. But his dad clearly needed this. “Sure dad. Send me your address and what time you’d like me to come. Should I bring anything.” “No son. Just bring yourself, that’s enough. I’ll text you my address and time when we get off the phone.” “Alright. See you tomorrow dad.” “See you tomorrow. I love you, Sean.” Then the call ended. Sean couldn’t remember a single time his dad had ever told him that he loved him. “8175 Wabash Ln. come over at 5pm.” Sean’s mind rushed through all the possibilities for what his dad could want to talk to him about. He couldn’t believe his mom had left his dad, as distant as the two of them had always been with him, they always seemed so in love. What could have happened? These thoughts swirled in Sean’s mind until he drifted asleep. Waking up the next morning he checked his phone to see if his dad had said anything else, nothing. He quickly got ready for work and tried to get himself back into his comfortable routine; but it didn’t matter, every other thought in his mind was occupied by what could be happening with his dad. What this dinner was going to be like. Why did it have to be so sudden? The day crept on, the uneasy feeling of anxiety ebbed and waned inside Sean, knotting his stomach. Thankfully today was Friday and that meant less clients. He got off at 4:30, just enough time to make it to his dad’s on time. Sean pulled up to his dad’s house. He guessed mom got their family home, and now his dad was staying in a small one bedroom home. It was a nice house, deep red bricks, a large porch on the front, a beautifully manicured front lawn, a garage off to the side. It had a very cozy feeling to it. Something about the little home made Sean feel at easy for a moment. He stepped onto the porch and knocked on the deep hardwood door, freshly painted a bright white to match the porch railing. Sean heard motion inside, the door opened, and his feeling of ease dissipated. In the doorway was a man who vaguely resembled Sean’s dad. His face was even different. Kinder somehow, maybe it was the big smile he wore, or the tear in his eye, but Clint looked…welcoming. Sean noticed at once that his dad seemed much larger than he remembered him. It had been almost ten years since they’d met in person, and it appeared his dad had started to take his workout routines more seriously. He’d also seemed to be taking better care of himself, his once round gut was now gone, all of the mass seemed to have shifted upwards and it now spilled into his chest and arms. Clint was taller too, or so Sean thought. When his dad opened the door he was staring directly at the bottom of his dad’s chest. “Sean!” Clint said, almost in an exacerbated sigh, a release of tension audible in his tone. He stepped forward and pulled Sean into a hug. Sean’s face sank in between his dad’s pecs, he noticed how far he seemed to sink, emphasizing the size of the barreled chest. The large arms around him hard as stone. The force of the hug lifted him off the ground a bit so that Sean was on his tippy toes. He reached around his dad and ground that he almost couldn’t reach completely around the wide lats and thick chest. He inhaled deeply, the scent of his dad’s cologne, the slight sweaty musk between his pecs, the smell of a fresh shower. Sean squeezed, and he felt his dad’s much larger body pull him in even tighter. Clint then released Sean, lowering him back to the ground, “please come in.” As he stepped out of the way, Sean walked into the house. “Dad, this is a very nice little home.” “Thanks son. I’ve tried. When I,” he paused seeming to hold back tears, “when I had to move here this was all I could afford and it needed some work. But some fresh brick, paint, floors, and some hard work on the front lawn has really brought it together.” “Wow. So you redid this whole place, did you hire someone?” “Hire someone?” Clint seemed genuinely confused. “No. I did it myself. I needed a project to sink my mind into and this remodel was just what I needed.” “You seem well dad.” “Come on Sean. Sit at the table. I have dinner ready, we can talk more there. I’m sure you’re wondering why I insisted we meet so soon.” He was right. Sean was whirling with possibilities as to why this was all happening. Above all, he felt an odd displacement in his mind, where the negative feelings he’d always harbored towards his father had suddenly softened. He was unsure if it was the way he spoke now, the affection he showed, or the simple fact that he now looked like the dream version of a man Sean would flirt with and tease. He knew the latter couldn’t possibly be it. Sean at at the table. A small dining set, four wooden chairs and a sturdy table, all the same dark mahogany wood. The grain had been sanded and treated. Everything in the home looked like it had been handled with such care. Clint rounded the corner, carrying a large pot in one arm and a large plate in the other. “I’m sorry it’s not much. As much as I’ve focused on building myself back up, cooking isn’t something I’ve mastered yet, but I remembered you liked beef stew, so I made that, and some homemade rolls. Although. The rolls didn’t come out as nice as I’d planned.” As Clint sat the food on the table, Sean appreciated the gesture. “I still love beef stew dad. I can’t believe you remembered. And don’t apologize, if it tastes as good as it smells I think we’ll be fine.” Clint even fixed Sean his plate, portioning out the meat, veggies, and selecting what he must have considered the most ideal roll in the bunch. “Here!” He said enthusiastically, handing the plate to Sean. “Thanks dad.” Sean gave his dad a quick glance and a warm smile. If his dad was going to put in so much work to be present, Sean figured he could try equally to make his dad feel like his efforts were valid. The two ate in silence for a while. Sean unsure of what to say, and Clint apparently too afraid to say what he needed to. Sean took the first leap, “Dad, what’s this all about?” Clint paused eating, and slowly sat down his fork. He seemed to be mentally gathering his composure, using one hand to smooth his shirt, which had bunched up underneath his heavy pecs, and the other to wipe sweat from his brow. Sean noticed his dad’s large dark nipples were visible through the thinly stretched shirt fabric, and when he raised his arm to wipe the sweat from below his well maintained brown hair, he heard a seam pop in the shirt as it stretched over his shoulder. “This is a hard story to tell. But I owe it to you. Just let me get through as much as I can and then we can discuss, okay?” “Sure, dad.” “So. Shortly after you moved out, I became unhappy. Not with your mom or anything specific, but life in general. I was getting old and fat, I was tired all the time, I was angry, I hated my job and everything in life seemed like a chore.” Clint swallowed hard, forcing down emotion as he got to the heart of the issue. “After a while I went to see a therapist, your mom didn’t know because I didn’t want her to think she was the problem. Through talking with the therapist we discovered a few things. The first being that I was depressed. The second was that I probably had low testosterone. Those two thing combined accounted for most of my symptoms. The therapist encouraged me to workout, saying that it would not only help with depression, but when I started receiving testosterone injections that it would help to moderate my energy levels and mood more.” He took a slight pause, a big deep breath, his chest expanding and pulling the buttons on his shirt almost to their breaking point. “The last thing we talked about was your mom. She was emotionally and mentally abusive and I had fallen into a dark place. When we would talk about you I had two different thoughts, how I really felt, and how I felt because that’s how your mother insisted that I feel. Years and years of her demanding I follow in her ideological footsteps let me to being a hateful scornful person, and it wasn’t who I really was. I withdrew from you because it was either that or face the abuse from your mom.” Clint paused again. The next words hung in his throat like a Vice was locked preventing them from escaping. “Son. I never cared you were gay. I knew it well before you came out. Your mother was blindsided and she couldn’t see past it. She would talk when we were alone and say the most vile things, I would agree, craving her approval, but at the same time I knew it was hurting you and that’s the last thing I wanted. So. That lead your mom and I to an impass. One morning I insisted we invite you over and make amends, I told her I couldn’t do it any longer. I called her on her abuse and told her it was time to change the dynamic. She argued, but I had practiced in therapy remaining steady and keeping to my values. I guess once she realized she couldn’t control me any more she left. It devastated me at first, because I craved her affection so much. But. These last few years I’ve come to realize that I could repair our relationship. I realized that the bond we could share as father and son could help me to heal. So. After years and years of struggling and fighting and working on myself I finally decided it was time. I’ve done a lot of work inside myself to prepare to be a good father, and I understand that it may be hard to accept. But I love you, and I want you to know the truth and the reason why everything happened.” Sean sat. Stunned. He wanted to laugh and cry and run and disappear all in the same moment. His body was frozen in time. Clint studied him, watching for any reaction. Sean was stoic, completely unsure for the first time in a while of what to do next. Clint stood, rising to his full height, and walked over to Sean. With Sean sitting and Clint standing, Sean noticed he was at crotch level with his dad. Not wanting to seem like he was staring, he quickly stood as well, and the two hugged. They both teared up, holding on, waiting for the other to relent, but neither did for a while. Finally. Sean initiated the released stepping back, his dad releasing him from the hug. “Thank you.” Was all he could manage for the time being. Clint returned to his seat, and so did Sean. They resumed eating. The air between them seemed to clear, the tension releasing like a bungee cord just unhooked. Time seemed to return to normal. Then Clint spoke. “So. Do you think we can ever repair our relationship?” Sean nodded, “I do. There’s a lot of time to catch up on, but it sounds like you’ve done most of the work already.” “You’re right. There is a lot of lost time. Tell me about yourself. What was college like, where do you work, how is life. I saw you drive a pretty nice car, I’m proud that you seem to be doing well for yourself. Do you have a boyfriend, I don’t seen a ring so I hope I didn’t miss a wedding?” Sean was gobsmacked. Never in his life did he imagine those words coming from his dad’s mouth. Sean must have been sitting with his mouth agape because Clint continued, “sorry. I know that’s a lot. I’ve just thought about these things for so long.” “No. It’s okay dad. Let’s see. College was fine, I completed by bachelors and masters and the firm I work for now pays me really well. I own a place downtown and I’ve started a small business on the side that will hopefully allow me to quit my job one day and simply manage. You’re right. No husband. No boyfriend either. I’ve never really had a steady partner.” “That surprises me.” Clint said. “What does?” “That you’ve never had a steady partner. You seem so out together, despite how we raised you, and you inherited my good looks, I’d think it would be easy for you to find a man.” What an odd conversation. Sean could hardly believe he was talking about this with his dad. “Well. Maybe I’ll meet someone one day. For now I’m really focusing on myself.” Sean said. “I understand that.” Clint agreed. “What about you dad, do you have anyone special in your life?” “No. Like you I’m working on myself. Between work, the gym, fixing this house, therapy, and working to make myself ready to meet you again, I haven’t had time for anything else.” It really was like Sean was meeting his dad again for the first time. The man he knew growing up was gone, replaced by this much larger, much more caring version of his dad. The two finished their plates, Sean full after one, and Clint eating everything that remained. The big man had an appetite to match. “Would you like to come out back son? I can show you my plans for landscaping, we can have a few beers and just talk.” “That sounds great, dad.” Although Sean wasn’t a fan of beer, this time with his dad was probably worth the taste. They settled into the porch into two separate rocking chairs, Clint sat a cooler of beer between them. “You like these chairs, Sean?” “Yeah dad, they’re sturdy, quiet, really nice actually.” “I made them.” Sean sat forward and examined the chair he was sitting in. It indeed had a similar grain to the table and chairs in the dining room, an even stain across them, and the cushioning was clearly hand sewn and detailed. “Now. I didn’t make the cushions. I got those at a local market. But the chair I did make.” Sean sat back in the chair, running his hand along the smooth wood of the chair. “You’re quite the handyman, dad.” “Well you pick up a thing or two basically rebuilding a home with your bare hands.” At that Clint chuckled, a deep growling laugh that gave Sean flashbacks of his childhood, of happier times with his dad. “So how are you landscaping the backyard?” Sean asked. “Follow me!” Clint said, standing up and walking to the end of the porch. He stood there a moment and Sean wouldn’t help but notice how his dad’s ass stretched the khaki pants he was wearing, the dimples visible through the material. Standing, Sean followed Clint into the yard. Strewn across the yard were various different gardening and lawn care tools. Shovels, hoes, large bags of soil and mulch, stacks of lumber. Clint began to point around the yard, “over there I’m going to start a small vegetable garden. I figure I can fit around 10 tomato plants, a few stalks of corn, some beans and squash around the corn, a row or two of potatoes, and over there I’m going to have a strawberry and blueberry vine.” He swung his arm around, “over there I’m going to create a stone path, and I’m going to build a gazebo; in that corner I’m going to plant a new tree, haven’t decided what kind yet…” he continued to speak but Sean was lost in the moment. Seeing his dad so happy and passionate about something, there was something so…attractive about it. But not in the way that he found his dad attractive. Just the attribute of a person who’s driven. “Well son, what do you think?” “I think it’s going to take a lot of work.” Clint took a long drink of his beer, finishing it off, “yeah. It will. But it’s work I love to do. You’ll have to come back sometime and see it when it’s finished.” Two two walked back to the porch, and relaxed back into the chairs. They talked about anything and everything, Sean drank a few beers and being smaller and not used to alcohol he quickly caught a buzz. Clint, the large man that he was, was putting back bottle after bottle, seeming to loosen up a bit more each time. Suddenly Sean felt dizzy. He was getting drunk. “I think I’d *hiccup* better *hiccup* head home.” Sean slurred. “Absolutely not.” Clint said matter of fact, “you may be a grown man but I’m still your dad. You’re staying here tonight where you’re safe. No drinking and driving, if you did that I’d have to punish you.” Sean heard Clint laugh, but he could of sworn he saw a sly grin on his dad’s face as he said it. “Where and I *hiccup* going to sleep?” Fuck. Sean had to get rid of these hiccups. Annoying as hell. He held his breath. “In my bed.” Clint answered, and Sean exhaled the air quickly. What the fuck. He couldn’t sleep in the same bed as his dad? “I don’t want to sleep in the bed with you dad. I’ll call and Uber.” “You little goober. I’m not sleeping in the bed with you. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Sean felt a sudden relaxation, knowing things would be okay, his eyes felt heavy and he slid into sleep on the porch in the chair. He awoke to feeling weightless. No. Not weightless. He was being carried. Clint had a hold of him, cradling his body against his big thick chest, supporting his weight with his strong arms. Sean was still drunk, and he felt so safe in this moment, he nuzzled his head into Clint’s chest further, swearing he felt a hard nipple under his cheek. Clint lay Sean down in the bed, assuming he was still asleep. In the dark, Sean lay awake with his eyes open. Clint began to undress. The room was dimly lit by the hallway light and the moonlight from the large window. Sean couldn’t make out everything, but he could see enough. As Clint unbuttoned his shirt, his chest seemed to expand, growing once the pressure had released. Sean could see a few hairs on his dad’s chest, the grey ones which shown in the low light. Clint struggled to get the shirt off over his massive shoulders and bulging tricep, he was still drunk too. In his frustration he simply, and quite easily, ripped the shirt down his back and shredded it into pieces, pulling it off his body. Unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, Sean noticed his dad’s bulge. He should close his eyes. He shouldn’t be watching his dad undress. He needed to stop right now. But as he thought this, Clint’s bulge forced its way out of the opening in the pants, sticking out looking like his dad dad shoved a small watermelon in the front of his underwear. The weight of the package inside weighing down the waistband of the boxer briefs. Forcing his pants down over his huge quads Sean saw his muscles ripple and flex as he fought with the tight fabric that wouldn’t let go of the diamond cut quads. Finally. Clint was undressed, in only his underwear. He turned to leave the room, bending over quickly to pick something up off the floor, and Sean could hear the material rip as his large ass stretched the material too far. Clint stopped at the doorway, his wide back taking up more than the width of the doorframe, he turned slightly to fit through the door. As he did, he looked back at Sean and said, “goodnight son.” And he closed the door.

The gym owner, Dave, was psyched when he saw how many people were showing up for the bodybuilding seminar. What he didn’t know was that Kent, the gym manager, had sent out a mass text to all the members, telling them that Fred was going to show up, and there was no way to know what might happen. Everyone knew who Fred was by now, and they were dying to see the huge old freak in a flex down with the pro bodybuilder who was the guest poser at the seminar. Membership at the gym had nearly doubled since word got out about the hulking 75yo powerhouse who worked out there. They wanted his aura to rub off on them. Rumor had it that the guys who worked out with him were getting better results than a cycle of test and GH. The problem was, Fred was coming to the gym less and less. It was too crowded, and the weights weren’t enough of a challenge for him. More and more, he was going into the woods, where he could dislodge granite boulders from the hard earth and use them for his workout. Also, he could uproot trees, then use them for military presses and squatting. Back at home, he’d bought a cheap pair of car service ramps, so he could get under his truck and use it for benching and leg presses. He liked having Luke and Bry get in the truck for extra resistance. That night of the seminar, Fred showed up a half hour after it started. It was being held on the third floor of the gym, which was a big open loft that they used for wrestling and mma training. The space was packed. The pro bodybuilder, who competed at 280 pounds, was just finishing up pitching his new supplement line and getting ready to guest pose. Fred hung out in the back, but it was impossible for him to be inconspicuous, and a buzz of excitement was building thru the crowd. Fred saw Roscoe standing up close to the small stage they had set up. Roscoe looked like he had put on 30 pounds of muscle since Fred had last been with him. In fact, Roscoe looked bigger than the pro, who was stripping down to his posers on stage. The pro looked smaller than Fred thought he would, and was overly fake tanned. His face looked emaciated, like he was dieting down too hard. Fred waited for the bodybuilding champ to pose for about ten minutes, then he made his way up front. The crowd parted for him, staring at him in awe. Not only was his size intimidating, but he gave off pheromones that were ten times stronger than any other alpha in the room. To be near him was to lust for him. Straight, married, bi, gay, it didn’t matter. It was the deepest desire any of them had ever felt, to have the big man take them under his huge lat wing. Fred passed by a female bodybuilder he had shagged about a month ago. She had gotten bigger too, and, in her sports bra, her shoulder span was wider than the male pro on stage. Fred nodded at her and grinned. It made her head spin as his scent wafted over her, and she remembered what it was like to be with someone with his size and skills. When Fred got to the front of the crowd, he said to the pro, “Not bad for a little fella.” They had set up a small stage light to shine on the pro as he posed, so it was hard for him to make out who had said it. All he could see was a looming shadow of a large man. Just then, Kent, who was up on the stage, walked over to the pro and said, “That’s the guy I was telling you about.” Fred could tell that Kent, who was wearing a tight tank top, was thicker and wider than the guest poser. It made Fred proud. It made the pro bodybuilder wonder what kind of freak gym had he walked into. “Oh yeah?” said the pro to Kent. Then he turned toward Fred and said, “I hear you’ve done a pretty good job getting yourself in shape, old timer. Why don’t you come up and show us?” Fred stepped up onto the temporary stage, which creaked and shifted under his densely packed poundage. “I can see you’re a big guy,” said the pro nervously. “But do you have the conditioning.” He turned to the crowd and flexed his double bi shot. Fred stripped off his 8XL sweatshirt and handed it to Kent. Then he flexed his own double bi shot. The crowd lost its collective mind. The pro glanced over and gasped. He staggered back, almost falling off the stage. Fred grabbed him by his forearm and pulled him back up like he was a pillow. Fred’s hard nips pointed down into the stunned pro’s face. The massive old man was six inches taller and 225 pounds bigger than the pro. “So, if I use your products, will I get bigger?” Fred asked. He flexed his free arm in front of the pro’s face. Fred’s upper arm ballooned with size until the crowd could no longer see the guest poser’s head behind it. Fred let the guy go, then took off his shorts. He was wearing a pair of customized black posers. The crowd went wild at the sight of his massive, veiny legs. And there was no hiding his huge package in the skin tight posers. He could hear Luke and Bry hooting and hollering from the back. He flex his most muscular shot towards them, their favorite pose of his. The pro’s knees buckled at the sight of Fred’s 498 pounds of shred. The champion bodybuilder wanted to worship at the feet of the much bigger man in front of him. He’d never lusted for a man before, but right then his asshole was twitching like a horny pussy. Over half of the crowd had their phones out and were taking videos of Fred posing over the smaller man at his feet. Fred leaned into his ear and said, “How much you wanna be my bitch, little man?” Then he reared himself upright and continued posing. He had learned that he could flex his abs individually, so he began making his eight pack pop, one at a time, up and down, then crisscrossing, each big ab brick bulging out at his command. The pro bodybuilder couldn’t believe his eyes. He was mesmerized. He was confused. His jaw hung open in awe. He was in love with a huge 75yo muscle freak. It wasn’t long before people were posting their videos, and they were going viral. Bodybuilding forums across were melting down from all the hits they were getting from people wanting to see the old mass monster making a pro bodybuilder champ look like an anemic troll. But other videos were starting to go viral, too. Across the globe, there were reports of men achieving massive gains in muscle mass and strength. From Japan came videos of a 90yo man, who, having added 300 pounds of muscle to his frame, had taken up sumo wrestling, and was throwing sumo champs out of the ring like they were over-fed babies. His most popular vid showed him pressing a 550 pound wrestler overhead and using him for reps before grabbing him by his diaper-like mawashi, tossing him one-handed into the crowd like a slingshot , then flexing gleefully in the center of the sumo ring. He became a new deity in Japanese culture. They were building him a large pagoda where he could ‘entertain’ his worshippers with his massive muscles and unbridled sex drive. But it wasn’t just elderly men who were experiencing transformations. From England came videos of a pro soccer team whose coach had morphed into a 350 pound hulking mass. Soon, most of his players had beefed up to over 300lbs each, with corresponding increases in speed and coordination. They looked more like roided up rugby players than footballers. They could kick the ball so hard that it would crack bones on their opponents. Or simply explode on contact. As they traveled around the world for matches, other soccer players began to grow. So did some of the fans. All around the world, pockets of mega-musclemen were popping up. Some, like Fred, were super responders, tripling in size. Others ‘merely’ doubled in size. Scientists discovered that all the men had the so-called tumor that Fred had. Their best guess was that this was a rare mutation that triggered dramatic changes to the human body. No one could figure out what caused it, although some of the earliest mutant men remembered a dream they’d had where they were visited by very muscular aliens, and something was implanted into their heads. Fred had no such memory. What he did remember was taking the bodybuilding champ home with him that night, and breeding him for the next three days like he was his new girlfriend. He shared the champ with Tyler and Kent. Their sex drives were unrelenting. Scientists discovered that when a mutant man ‘shared’ his seed with an unchanged man, the unchanged man mutated. The mutants were so sexually irresistible that the mutation was spreading throughout the world faster than Covid had, creating a huge evolutionary leap in humankind, creating a breed of people who had bigger muscles, stronger bones, better immune systems, better everything. Soon, it was discovered that the children of the muscle mutants inherited the changes, and would grow to be even more enhanced. Some people were concerned that there could be a down side to this rapid advancement, matching concerns about the use of artificial intelligence. That an unforeseen darkness would emerge after it was too late to stop it. But only time would tell.

It had been two months since Tyler came into Fred’s life. The young veteran was staying at Fred’s house. Fred knew a guy who owned a construction company, and had gotten Tyler a job. In his off time, Tyler did chores and ran errands for Fred. He jogged every morning before work, and did some calisthenics in Fred’s backyard in the evening. Even with just that, he had gained back enough muscle that Fred could no longer see his ribs when he fucked him in the shower. Fred had introduced him to Luke and Bry when they came over for a workout. Fred told them that they had met when Tyler broke into his house, so the two guys were not crazy about the new housemate at first. Both college jocks had packed on over 50lbs of muscle, and were now built like pro wrestler Brian Cage. They discussed taking Tyler into the woods and beating the shit out of him until he agreed to leave, but they could tell that Fred had a thing for the guy and would kick the shit out of them (or worse) if he found out. Over time, they had grown to like the guy despite themselves. Kent had met Tyler when Fred brought him to the gym one day. The big old man had walked up to him and said, “How you doing, Trent? This is Tyler. Show him the ropes while I go do my deadlifting workout.” Then the massive freak, now weighing 495lbs, had lumbered to the back of the gym. Kent watched him go. He hated how much he lusted for the smart-ass old man. It was practically all he could think of. He showed Tyler around the gym, like he’d been told, and the two guys hit it off right away, and ended up training together on occasion. One night, Fred had them all over to his place. He’d been trying to come up with new ways to work his huge arms. He had them all come up to the posing room, where he was naked and warming up with 120lb dumbbells. The four guys watched in awe as Fred curled the weights like they were two library books. When he tossed the weights down, he turned to them and raised his arms straight out to his sides. “You and Bry grab my left wrist,” he said to Luke. “You two take the other one.” They all did as they were told. Fred clenched his fists. “Try and keep my arms from coming up.” And Fred tensed the muscles of his massive arms, and began to flex. The four young men let out a few oophs and grunts as they tried to hold the older man’s Herculean arms from rising. But Fred simply sneered at himself in the mirror, and muscled his fists upward. Inch by inch he out powered the two big jocks on his left arm, the gym manager and the Army vet on his right. As his fists lifted up, his huge biceps ballooned up, peaking higher and higher. His forearms rose until the were perpendicular to the floor. The four young men’s grips slid down his arm until they were clinging to his elbows and bi’s. “Now, lift your feet,” he told them. They did as they were told and picked their feet off the ground, swinging from Fred’s arms like a pack of monkeys. Fred slowly lowered his forearms until they were straight out from his side. “Again,” he said. He completed another rep with them struggling even harder this time to prevent him. To no avail. The massive 75yo muscleman did ten reps with them, grunting out an “Oh yeah!” at the mirror at the top of each flex. He told them to drop off him, and they did. He shook out his arms and flexed them again. He could practically feel the GH and LH coursing thru his thick veins and massive muscles, stimulating his growth. His power. “You’re like Superman,” said Luke, resting on the floor, panting and sweating. All four younger men were highly pumped from their exertions against those inhuman arms. “Nah, man. You’re like Superman’s bigger, stronger uncle,” said Bry. “More like great uncle,” added Tyler. “Watch it, Ty,” Fred warned, but he had to chuckle because Ty was right. Fred never took his eyes of his own reflection. His dick was rock hard, jutting out at the mirrored wall at an elevated angle. Then he added, “I need to fuck something.” When they all volunteered, Fred said, “Strip down and fight for it, boys. Whoever comes out on top, gets my seed.” They didn’t need for him to repeat himself. They all got naked and started wrestling around the room while Fred watched. He casually grabbed a bottle of posing oil and lubed himself up, his biceps still bulging like blimps. Then he poured some oil on the guys, to make the wrestling more challenging. At first, it seemed like Bry and Luke had the advantage, having wrestled for so many years. But Tyler had had hand-to-hand combat training in the Army, so he was holding his own. Kent had become considerably bigger, at 280, than the other three guys, so it was him at the top of the heap when Fred said, “You’ll do,” and lifted Kent up like a sack. Fred was secretly happy it was Kent who won, because, with his new size, Kent had the plumpest and juiciest ass. An Elliot Dermond ass, all rounded out and thickly off-season. Fred told Kent to bend over and grab his ankles, then he lubed up the the gym manager’s deep crevice and went to town. The other three men jerked off as they watched. The room had gotten significantly hotter since they’d started. The mirrors steamed up so much that condensation ran down them in rivulets, pooling onto the floor. The air was heavy with Alpha musk, thick as fog. “You want my huge load, Kendrick? Want me to bloat you full of it?“ Fred asked, as he plowed Kent’s plump ass until it was baboon red. “Yes. Fuck yes,” answered Kent, over and over, his head banging against the sweating mirrored wall as Fred fucked him standing. “Clamp down hard, boy,” said Fred, as he sank his big dick deep into Kent’s prodigious ass. Kent squeezes his glutes tight as he could. Fred let go of Kent’s hips, then flexed his arms up. “Look at these pythons,” he growled, more to himself than anyone else. “Look at my fucking size.” Everyone in the room came at the same time. As Fred shot inside Kent, the other three shot all over the mirrors and floor. The five men made a muscular tableau of hyper masculinity. Especially Fred. He pulled out of Kent, turned him around, and kissed him hard. The brawny gym manager would never need to go to heaven, he was already there. Afterwards, while Fred showered off with Tyler, the other three guys mopped down the posing room. Tyler was the only one still small enough to fit in the shower with the huge old man. And even at that, every time Fred lifted an arm or turned, Tyler got knocked about or pinned against the wall. Not that Tyler minded. Sometimes, when they were alone in the house, Tyler would ask Fred to rough him up. At first, Fred was reticent, but then he came to enjoy it too. He called Tyler ‘my little masochist’, and he’d work him over good and hard, but never enough to do real damage. It gave Fred a chance to learn control over his seemingly boundless strength. And after a good roughhousing session around the house, the two of them would have the most passionate sex either of them had ever experienced. That night, before Kent left, he said, “Make sure you come by the gym tomorrow around six. We’re having a seminar with a guest poser.” “Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me,” said Fred. He had seen the poster at the gym. The guest poser was a famous pro bodybuilder champion. Fred had seen him on YouTube and Instagram. Big, handsome guy. Probably, he’d be hawking supplements that he’d claim helped him get so built. Fred didn’t mind. He would be there. “You’ll come with me, Ty. This is definitely not something you’re gonna wanna miss.”

This is a new story I've been working on (a similar size and length to my last big story Deano, Again) which centres around a group of bodybuilders sharing a flat in Manchester. Unlike my last few stories, this one features completely new characters and has no connection to the Muscle University/Deano series. However, as with most of my stories, there are a couple of nods and references to past stories and characters. This story doesn't stray too far from what people know me for. However, unlike my previous stories which were all told from the point of view of just one character, this one features multiple points of view with the chapters mostly alternating between two of the flatmates. On a final note - this first chapter is the longest of the story so if you're slightly put off by the length I promise you that most of the follow-up chapters are considerably shorter! MUSCLE LADS, INC. ONE NICK My heart is pounding as I approach the big red brick building with green framed windows Google Maps has been guiding me towards for the last twenty minutes. This is ridiculous. Why am I so nervous? Okay - that’s a stupid question. I KNOW why I’m nervous. I know why my stomach’s currently doing somersaults and why my heart feels like it’s in my throat. Because I’m about to meet Alfie Winters and Danny King. Two of the best young amateur bodybuilders in Manchester. Probably in the whole country, for that matter. Two bodybuilders I’ve admired and followed on Instagram for years. I couldn’t believe it when I saw Alfie’s Instagram Story this morning. It almost felt too good to be true. Maybe it actually is? And obviously, I was nervous when I sent him that DM telling him I was interested. I doubted whether I should. But I knew that if I didn’t take a chance and send him that message, I’d end up regretting it. And then Alfie sent me a reply which was SO fucking friendly and my head has been spinning with all of these thoughts and hopes and fantasies ever since. And yet - as I stand at the front door of the building Alfie and Danny live in and scan the buzzer for flat number seventeen, all I can think is - what the hell are these two incredible bodybuilders going to think when they open the door to an average sized, awkward looking, nerdy guy in glasses? Okay, so “average-sized” is a bit misleading. I’ve actually done two bodybuilding competitions. The first one was last summer after I’d finished university. And the second one was just last weekend. I came fourth in the junior category of a local show back home in Leicester. Which explains why I'm currently abnormally tanned and have been getting weird looks from people on the street for the past week. But despite the still shredded abs and leg striations currently hiding under my hoodie and jeans, it still feels a little weird to describe myself as a bodybuilder. Like if I actually said to someone, “I’m a bodybuilder”, there’s a very good chance they’d look me up and down and screw up their face in confusion. Maybe I’m being a bit hard on myself. Because, while I’m definitely no bull-necked Montgomery University-type tank struggling to fit through doorways by the time they’re twenty-one, I have got quite a bit of muscle on my six-foot frame. My arms are pretty thick for a start. Enough for heads to turn when I walk down the street wearing a t-shirt or vest during the summer. But by bodybuilding measures, I’m still pretty lean. I guess I’m one of those guys who looks pretty average and then shocks everyone by lifting up his t-shirt to reveal a set of shredded fucking abs. Hopefully, all of that will change in the next few years. That’s the goal anyway. To pack on more size. To keep learning. To keep growing. To keep getting better. So that one day I can proudly say “I’m a bodybuilder” with conviction and without fear of being laughed at. To be just as good as the two bodybuilders whose doorstep I’m now standing on and whose flat I’m now buzzing as my heart hammers in my chest. To maybe even be on the same bodybuilding stage as one or both of them one day competing alongside them. A deep voice comes through the intercom saying hello. I think it might be Alfie rather than Danny but I can’t quite say for sure. “Ummm. Hi,” I say back, awkwardly. “It’s Nick. To see the room?” The voice says something I can’t quite catch, a buzzing noise comes through the speaker and I hear the click of the front door opening. At this point, my nerves are off the charts. And they only get worse when I climb the stairs to the third floor. They only really start to ease when I’m suddenly faced with the image of Alife Winters filling up the door frame to his and Danny King’s flat. His big, round shoulders and jacked arms are bulging out of an Army-like olive green vest to a ridiculous degree. And the top of his thick pecs is spilling out of the material. Wow. I mean - seriously wow. He’s much bigger in the flesh. Is this guy really only a couple of years older than me? A wave of inferiority sweeps through me. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this bloody hoodie so Alfie and Danny could see my impressively thick and still bronzed arms? Something flickers across Alfie’s face when he spots me. I don't know if it’s surprise or disappointment or something else. Maybe I look bigger in my pictures on Instagram? But then his face transforms into a welcoming smile which relaxes me instantly. “Nick, yeah?” “Yep!” I reply, smiling back. Partly to be friendly. Partly because it’s pretty hard not to smile at the image of a jacked up muscle plug of a short-arsed bodybuilder spilling out of his vest who’s not entirely unattractive face-wise and who’s standing in front of you ready to welcome you into your flat. I also can’t help thinking how considerate it is that he decided to wait for me this way to save me from wandering the halls looking for the flat number. “You found it all right, then?” Alfie asks. “Yep. Just about!” I have no idea why I said that because I had no trouble finding the flat at all. “Jesus,” Alfie says, looking up at me as I follow him through the doorway and enter the flat. “How tall are you?” “Ummm. Six foot,” I reply, suddenly becoming very aware of the height difference between us. He must only be about five foot seven at the most. “I knew I should have put a height restriction on the ad,” Alfie jokes, as we enter a room made up of a living room on one side and a kitchen area on the other. “So this is the lounge. Kitchen's over there,” Alfie says. “The TV’s mine. But, you know … use it as much as you want. We’ve got Netflix.” The room is bright, spacious and modern with big comfy-looking blue sofas and a huge television. The far back wall has exposed bricks. I think property agents and landlords would probably market this as a New York style apartment. I’ve seen a couple of similar flats described as such in my search for a place to live in Manchester over the past few days. The only clue that bodybuilders live here is a big poster of Mitchell “The Machine” Murray squeezing out a brutal crab most muscular with his mouth wide open stuck to the wall above one of the sofas. Muscle exploding. Veins everywhere. Attitude through the roof. I wonder what my parents will say about that when they drop me off. IF they drop me off here. That’s a big if. “You a fan?” Alfie asks, looking from me to the poster of Mitchell Murray. He’s got an almost teasing smirk on his face which makes me feel instantly nervous. I swear my cheeks are getting flushed. “Mmmm,” I say, looking away from Alfie and back to the grotesque muscle screaming for my attention from the wall of the living space. “Isn’t everyone?” I look back at Alfie Winters who’s giving me this big, warm grin. Did I mention the fact that Alfie Winters is kind of cute? Okay - more than just kind of. He’s got these small boyish features. A button nose. Nicely styled brunette hair. I wonder if he’s ever felt self-conscious about his ears. It’s not that they’re big. But they’re quirky-shaped and kind of stick out. They’re like little pixie ears. Somehow they just make him more attractive though. I’m suddenly pulled from my thoughts and my insides tighten. Because the other bodybuilder who lives here has just walked into the room. A bodybuilder who’s even bigger and more well-known than Alfie Winters. Unlike Alfie though, Danny King is covered up by a black hoodie with the words Panther’s Gym written on the front. No guesses as to which of the two most hardcore bodybuilding gyms in Manchester Danny attends. But even though he’s covered up, he looks like a right fucking tank. I know exactly what’s hiding under that hoodie. Thick slabs of hard, shredded meat. Gorgeous thick pecs. Blocky abs. Big, boulder shoulders. How twenty-five year old Danny King is still an amateur is anyone’s guess. It can't be long before he gets his pro card. There are so many contrasts between Alfie and Danny. Danny’s much taller. I'd say about the same height as I am. And where Alfie’s cute and boyish-looking, Danny’s kind of rough around the edges, but still handsome. Really handsome actually. He’s got brunette hair which is shaved at the sides and medium length on top. A strong jaw. He looks like a bit of a lad’s lad, I guess. The type of guy who I'd never have been friends with at school. I know I only just met the guy, but I’m also not getting the same warm, friendly vibes that I get from Alfie. There’s something about him which is kind of intimidating. Okay - very intimidating. “Danny, mate - this is Nick,” Alfie says. “The guy about the room?” Danny King gives me a half-hearted nod and mumbles, “All right,” with an unimpressed look on his face. My heart sinks to the pit of my fucking stomach as Danny turns away and heads into the kitchen area. I think I now know why someone coined the phrase ‘never meet your idols’. “I’ll show you the room,” Alfie says, seemingly unfazed by Danny’s less-than-friendly welcome towards me. As I follow him, I can’t help taking a sneaky look back at Danny, who’s now got his broad back to me, making himself a shake in the kitchen. The big cushions that make up his arse bulging underneath and stretching the material of his black joggers. I’m not being funny - but if a potential new flatmate is coming around to view a room in your flat, shouldn’t you at least make a bit of an effort with him? Is it me? Did Danny and Alfie discuss what type of flatmate they wanted beforehand and decided an absolute must was that he had to be a seasoned bodybuilder? And then I showed up with my two bodybuilding trophies and barely there calves? I’m tempted to ask Alfie if Danny is okay but it feels like it would be a weird question considering I literally just met the guy. As I follow him into the room, my eyes go down to the thick arse cheeks nestled into Alfie’s grey shorts, then further down to the thick calf muscles bulging off the back of his lower legs, then further down to the bright yellow socks he’s wearing which are patterned with little watermelons. I bite my lip to cover up my smile. Alfie Winters does this thing on Instagram where he poses in his (always shiny and hot as fuck) trunks and a pair of novelty socks pulled up to his ankles. It’s a sort of quirky little thing he’s known for doing. And people go mad for Alfie Winter’s novelty socks. Me included. Even if I’m not that vocal about it. “So where do you live at the moment, mate?” Alfie asks me as I scan the bright, decent-sized bedroom I can definitely see myself living in. “Oh, erm … with my parents in Leicester. That’s where I’m from,” I explain, turning around to see Alfie with his short thick arms folded across his chest. Must. Not. Stare. (Is drooling okay though?) “So why Manchester?” “Ummm. Well, my best friend lives here. I used to come and visit her when she was at uni and … I just kinda love it here, I guess. I’ve already got an internship here.” “Oh cool. What doing?” “Digital Marketing. It’s working for an agency.” “That sounds pretty mint,” Alfie enthusiastically replies in his cute Mancunian accent. “You can give me some tips for Instagram,” he adds with a grin so cute I’m now wondering how sensible it is to move in which a lad you’re probably going to fall in love with in the space of a week. “You’re, erm … a personal trainer, aren’t you?” As soon as the question escapes my lips I feel a sharp panic. I don’t want Alfie Winters to think I’ve been stalking him on Instagram or anything. Something flickers across his face and his lips briefly curl into an ominous little grin which makes me feel like I’ve just been rumbled. “Yeah. Just one of the high street gyms. And I’ve got a few sponsors too. So … are you gonna be a Muscle Factory boy when you move here?” he asks with a teasing look. I fail not to smirk back and nod. “Yeah. I think so!” Alfie playfully squints at me. “Yeah - I don’t really see you as a Panthers guy,” he teases. Before I have a chance to reply, Alfie shoots me another question. “You’re a Classic Physique guy, yeah?” I feel like I’ve just been winded. I know for a fact my face just dropped. “Ummm. Nah. Bodybuilding.” Alfie’s expression flickers like he’s realised what he’s said and he awkwardly nods. “I’ve just done, like, a few shows,” I explain. “Nothing major.” “And now you’re moving to Manchester to train at The Muscle Factory and become a shredded monster?” he teases with a cheeky smirk, redeeming himself for his earlier blunder. I bite my lip and grin back, feeling a little sheepish all of a sudden. We drift back into the living room and I feel both nervous and excited at the prospect of facing Danny King again. He’s sitting on one of the sofas with his face buried in his phone. He looks like such a monster just casually sitting there in his hoodie and joggers. With his veiny hands and his annoyingly good looks. He doesn’t even look up when we sit on the other sofa. Which feels kind of rude. “So, ummm … have you got many people looking at the room?” I ask. Alfie looks at Danny, who still isn’t looking up. “Just another guy later, but … you messaged us first, so …” I feel a jolt of excitement. But that quickly vanishes. Because NOW Danny looks up. He gives Alfie a pointed look, his eyebrows furrowed. As if he strongly disagrees with the suggestion that the room is mine just because I messaged Alfie first. And now I know that it’s definitely me. That this guy clearly has some kind of problem with me. Then Danny looks at me, not smiling. Just … looking at me. This kind of unnerving stare. Like he’s properly checking me out for the first time now that it's been suggested that I may actually be moving into the flat. And now I don't know what the hell to think. “Any more questions, mate?” Alfie asks. Danny’s still glaring at me. I suddenly feel like I want this sofa to swallow me up. I have no idea what’s going through Danny King’s head, but I’m sure it’s not good. I DO have questions. A few of them, in fact. Are the rumours that you’re bisexual true, Alfie? Why does Danny King seem to hate so much? And would I be getting the same unnerving glares and cold reception if I were some Montgomery University graduated monster and not just some geeky-looking guy in specs from Leicester who has all but two bodybuilding shows under his belt? There's no world in which any of those questions are appropriate to ask. So I just meekly shake my head instead and decide to get the hell out of this flat as quickly as possible with no goodbye or acknowledgement from my new best friend, Danny King. As I say bye to Alfie and make my way to exit the building, all of my hopes and wild fantasies of living and becoming friends with two of Manchester’s best amateur bodybuilders shrink and disappear into nothing. Later that night I’m standing in the queue for Utopia - a big once-a-month queer club night at one of the city’s biggest club venues, huddled together with my best friend Liv, who I’m currently staying with and her very gay flatmate, Benji, who’s made no secret of the fact that he fancies me. “I don’t know why don’t you just move in with us,” Benji quips. “We’ll split the rent three ways.” “Excuse me - I’m not having my living room turned into a bedroom,” Liv retorts. “It’s not just YOUR living room,” Benji grumbles. “Mmmm. I kinda need my own room,” I tell him. “You could always just share my room,” Benji teases, wrapping his arm around mine so they’re linked. Liv makes an audible groan and I fail not to smile at Benji’s flirting. And maybe even blush a little. Benji is actually a really sweet guy. I mean - he’s not my type at all. He’s camp as Christmas for a start. Plus - I guess you could say he’s missing a few physical attributes that I normally go for. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about what would happen if I gave in to Benji’s flirting. How he’d react if I lunged my face towards his and snogged his admittedly cute face off. I didn’t go into too much detail about what happened at the room viewing with Liv and Benji. I imagine the conversation that went down between Alfie and Danny when I left the flat. Alfie saying that I seemed nice. Danny pulling a face and saying they should wait for the next guy to show up. And then some super confident muscle bull of a bodybuilder who’s been competing for years and who Danny recognises from Panthers showing up to view the room and the decision being promptly made that he’s the flatmate for them and not that awkward nerd who came around earlier. Will Alfie Winters even get back to me to tell me the news or will he be too embarrassed after his blunder of implying the room was mine just because I messaged him first, which I have to say, feels like a bit stupid to me? I guess whatever happens I’ll be seeing Alfie Winters at The Muscle Factory when I eventually get my room sorted and move here. I can’t imagine him not even giving me a friendly hello. “Don't you think we’d make a good couple though?” Benji says, tightening his grip on my arm. “The big beefy himbo and the small geek.” A laugh escapes my lips. I’m tempted to ask, “Which one am I?” but I stop myself. If Benji thinks I’m big and beefy, what would he think of the two mini muscle bulls of junior bodybuilders I met earlier today? One of the guys standing in the queue in front of us glances around and quickly looks at me. Then his eyes go down to my arms. I guess my biceps do look pretty great in this tight-fitted blue t-shirt. Two seconds later he turns around again and gives me a shy little smile. I imagine that took a bit of courage. It’s kind of adorable. And the guy’s actually really handsome. And it would be so easy for me to pull him. But - ugh - I don't know if this makes me sound really shallow, but I know that what I REALLY want isn’t just a regular-sized guy. No matter how nice and cute and handsome he happens to be. We lose my new admirer once we get inside the club. I’ve never been to Utopia before and I didn’t really know what to expect but this place is pretty amazing. A huge high-ceilinged club with thumping uplifting house music full of all types of people all here to have an amazing night. It’s like a wonderland of queerness. Me, Liv and Benji make our way to the bar, passing people dressed in crazy club kid outfits, drag queens who look incredible and a few other people who stick out from the mass of clubbers. And I’m just here wearing skinny jeans and a tight blue t-shirt. And yet - I feel quite a few eyes on me. Hot guys smile at me. One guy even reaches out and places a hand on my back. It’s uninvited, but I’m flattered. All because I look pretty buff in the tight blue t-shirt I'm wearing. I can’t help but wonder what kind of reaction possibly bisexual Alfie Winters would get if he strolled in wearing that olive green vest he was wearing earlier today. Arms, pecs and shoulders bulging. And now I’m wondering - would Alfie Winters come to a place like Utopia? Would Danny King come to a place like Utopia? I think I already know the answer to the latter. “So, Mr Malone …” Benji begins with a mischievous look on his face when the three of us are standing at the bar. “I have a little present for you!” Before I have a chance to ask him what, he’s putting something into the palm of my left hand. “Ummm. What is it?” I ask, looking at the little round yellow pill now resting in between my fingers. “What’s going on?” Liv asks, leaning into us. I show her Benji’s “present”. “Oh great - so you guys are gonna be off your faces?” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got one for you too, Olivia.” “What does it do?” I ask. Benji laughs. “God, he’s adorable!” he says to Liv, before turning back to me. “How can someone who looks like you be so innocent?” “Why don’t you just do half?” Liv suggests. Benji groans. “He’s a big boy. He’ll be able to handle it. Do the whole thing, Nick.” I suddenly like feel I’m in a cartoon. Benji is the little devil on my left shoulder and Liv’s the angel on the right. I look at the little yellow pill again between my fingers. I’ve never really done recreational drugs before. But this club. The people. The atmosphere. I’m suddenly feeling reckless. Without too much more deliberation, I put the whole thing in my mouth and wince at the bitter taste of swallowing it, to a grinning and excited-looking Benji. Who’s strangely never looked cuter. Half an hour later and me, Liv and Benji are huddled together dancing. Or at least I'm trying to. I don't think I’m actually moving that much. If I’m being honest I feel like a bit of a twat. Am I doing this dancing right or do I just look like a knob? I don’t think I’ll be going clubbing much when I move to Manchester. I think I’ll just stick to trying to become a muscle beast at The Muscle Factory and desperately trying to befriend Alfie Winters. Recreational drugs are also way overrated. I mean - yes, I feel a bit of a buzz. But is this really what everybody raves about? I leave Liv and Benji and escape to the toilets. I check my phone in a cubicle to find no text messages from Alfie. My insides tighten in anticipation when I open up Instagram. Because maybe he's DM’ed me there instead. But my heart soon drops. Because there’s no notification to tell me I have a message. I start to type in a name in the search bar, but something stops me when I’m halfway through. I don't think looking at the Instagram of a bodybuilder who clearly didn't think that much of me despite me hardly saying two words to him is a particularly healthy thing to do. So I type in another name instead. And now I’m smiling into my phone because I’m looking at a picture of a bronzed and shredded Alfie Winters hitting a front lat spread in what I presume is his bedroom in a pair of shiny purple posing trunks (to be fair, Alfie’s trunks are never NOT shiny) with a pair of Stranger Things socks pulled right up to his shins. I know this was taken around the time of his last competition a few weeks ago because he’s posted a couple of similar ones since then. I let out a little laugh and bite my lip as I read the caption Alfie has written to accompany the picture. Sorry, folks. These trunks aren't for sale. (I know some of you will DM me to ask anyway!) Will I ever be brave enough to post a caption as outrageous as that? Will I ever have random guys messaging me on Instagram asking to buy my used posing trunks? Right now, I’m not even brave enough to post pictures of myself in competition for fear of what people might say and think. For being judged, I guess. Which I know makes me sound completely pathetic. I put my phone away and head back out to my friends. But as I’m walking through the crowd of clubbers, something starts to happen. My arms suddenly feel light and airy. There’s this tingling sensation going up and down them. Which spreads to my whole body. And then … as I reach Liv and Benji, out of nowhere, this intense rush sweeps through me and takes over my body. “Are you okay?” my best friend asks as she grabs both of my arms. I’m not sure if I AM okay. Because I’ve never felt like this before. I guess this is what happens when you decide to be reckless and neck little yellow pill’s given to you by your mate’s flirty flatmate. “Just relax!” Liv instructs. Relax. Okay - I can do that. Because yes, I’m a little freaked out, but I know that I’m safe with Liv. And even though I don't actually know him that well, I know I’m in good company with Benji too. And so I take Liv's advice. I try to relax. I try to stop freaking out. And when I do, all of a sudden, I’m in the middle of having what is probably one of the best fucking nights out of my life. I love this place. I love this club. I love Liv. And I kinda love Benji too. Cute, sweet Benji, who is now tugging on the bottom of my t-shirt and trying to coax me into taking it off. Which really doesn’t take much doing. As soon as I peel my bright blue t-shirt off my torso, it’s like an instant reaction. And it’s not just because Benji is staring at my bumpy shredded abs with his mouth hung open. It feels like all eyes are suddenly on me. And man - it’s such a fucking rush! I never display my torso in public like this. I close my eyes and feel the heady rush of the chemicals. And now - there are hands on me. Planted on my waist. I open my eyes to see Benji giving me this dreamy little smile. Benji - who’s not my type at all but who’s sweet and funny and cute. Benji - who’s gripping my waist. Benji - whose face is now inching towards mine. Benji - who I’m now kissing. And it’s nice. And kind of horny. But when we part lips, he’s giving me this look that makes my chest tighten. Still gripping onto my waist, Benji leans into my ear. “I really like you!” I feel a sharp panic. I look at Liv behind Benji, who’s giving me this look. Like she’s warning me. Don’t mess around with Benji. Don’t break Benji’s heart. (Like I’ve ever broken anyone’s heart before!) He’s got this look in his eyes. This look of hope, I guess. And I know I need to stop what I’m doing. I know that doing anything more than just kissing Benji will be a mistake. “Ummm … I’ll be back in a bit!” I say to him, suddenly feeling like I need to escape. And quickly. “Okay!” he says, looking at me with those big eyes full of hope and desperation. I start to walk away from Benji and Liv and through the crowd of sweaty clubbers with my t-shirt tucked into the waistband of my jeans. Most of them are looking at me. Some of them smiling at me. Some of them even touching me. Because I’m pretty sure I’m the most shredded guy in this club. I'm pretty sure I'm the only guy here who can call himself a bodybuilder. Until I’m suddenly not. Because standing in front of me right now looking just as surprised and awestruck as I imagine I do is another shirtless bodybuilder. And God he’s sexy. Holy fucking hell he’s sexy. I almost can’t believe what I’m seeing. Is this a mirage? Or am I having some kind of drug-induced hallucination? This guy is about five inches shorter than me. I’m guessing late thirties. Maybe even early forties. He’s completely bald. Has piercing blue-grey eyes. Handsome, smouldering looks. And these sticky-out ears. And there’s a big sexy vein zigzagging across the right side of his head. As for the body. Holy fuck. Okay, so he’s not like a mass monster or anything. He actually has quite a small frame. But the amount and sheer quality of muscle he’s managed to pack onto that frame is incredible. He has these perfectly round shoulders. Thick, tanned arms. These hot-as-fuck wavy-lined abs. And the pecs. Fuck ME the pecs. They’re like bunched up balloons of muscle fighting for space on his chest. The kind of pecs that twitch and dance with the slightest of movements. Even the silver chain buried in his neckline and running across the top of his thick pecs is unspeakably hot. “Oh my God!” he says to me. We’re both just staring at each other. And then this beyond hot bonafide muscle daddy before me curls his mouth into the most fuck-off sexy grin. “Where did YOU come from?” he asks like he can’t quite believe what’s standing in front of him. “Ummm, Leicester!” I tell him, leaning closer to his ear. As soon the words escape my mouth I realise how fucking stupid they sounded. He wasn't actually asking me where I was from! I swear - sometimes I’m such a social retard. Sometimes when people speak to me or ask me a question, it’s like my brain goes into a panic. And I can’t think of my reply quickly enough. And I end up just sprouting this verbal diarrhoea. Or saying something completely stupid. Like I did just then. But my mystery silver chain-wearing muscle daddy of a bodybuilder doesn’t seem to care. In fact, his smile gets even bigger (and sexier). Like maybe he found what I just said sort of cute? His hand goes on my waist and he moves his lips closer to my ear. “Have you taken something?” I bite my lip and nod. His hand is not moving from my waist. And I feel so much. Chemistry. Electricity. Between me and this bald, veiny-headed, slightly sweaty muscle daddy. His thick, balloon-like pecs right there. His crazily thick shoulders. It’s like there’s an incredible hotness radiating from his body. “Do you wanna come back to mine?” I can’t think of anything I want more. I nod at the muscle daddy. He smirks at me, reaches for my hand with his, wraps his fingers around mine and leads me out of the club. So many people are staring as I’m led out of the club and across the street to a taxi by the short, jacked bodybuilder I met literally two minutes ago. It might be the fact that we’re two male bodybuilders holding hands in public. And the fact that we’re both fucking shirtless. I can’t quite believe this is happening. And I can’t quite believe how hot this mystery muscle daddy is. “Didn’t you have a t-shirt?” I ask him as we approach the taxi. Mine’s still tucked into the waistband of my jeans but his is nowhere to be seen. He shrugs and pulls a face like he doesn't care before smirking at me. We get into the back of the taxi and he tells the driver the place where we’re heading which I don't recognise at all. Then he wraps his big, meaty, slightly furry forearm around my leg, his fingers gripping my inner thigh and my cock forcefully throbs in my jeans. I can see the thick veins pulsing under the hair of his forearm. “What’s your name?” I ask him. But the muscle daddy doesn’t reply. Instead, he lunges his face towards mine and starts kissing me hard. His tongue in my mouth. His huge bare sweaty shoulder pressed up against mine. The taste of his mouth. The feel of his hard sweaty muscle. Even his scent. It’s all just so intoxicating. Almost unbearably horny. He stops kissing me. And now I’m just looking into those gorgeous blue-grey eyes. Every single fucking thing about this guy is sexy. The face. The body. The silver chain. That zigzagging vein on the side of his bald head. He’s like the epitome of masculinity. The ultimate muscle daddy. I feel like totally submitting to this guy. Letting him do whatever the fuck he wants to do to me. “My name’s Nick,” I tell him. His mouth curls into a big, sexy grin. Like he maybe thinks I’m cute or something. His grip gets tighter on my thigh. “I’m Mason,” he tells me. Even his voice is hot. Deep, masculine and surprisingly well-spoken. “But you can call me Sir,” he says, straight-faced. I don’t know if it’s the chemicals in my body. I don't know if I’d have had a different reaction to what Mason just said if I hadn't taken whatever Benji gave me back at Utopia. Whether I would have thought it was weird. Or just laughed. But I don’t even deliberate over what to do next. “Yes, Sir!” I say, feeling an unexpected rush. “Good boy!” he replies in an assertive tone. Why is hearing Mason calling me that so hot? Sir. Good boy. This is completely new territory for me. But I'm totally into it. Maybe it’s the chemicals, but right now, I’m completely prepared to do whatever this insanely hot muscle daddy wants. As soon as we’re out of the taxi Mason grabs my hand with his. And he doesn’t let go until we’re at the door to his flat. Hand in hand with his bald sweaty shirtless bodybuilder. All the time I’m rock fucking hard. I should have guessed that the moment we stepped inside his flat I’d be pushed up against the wall with Mason kissing me hard. His thick balloon-like pecs pushed against my toned chest. His wavy-lined turtle tummy abs against my little, narrow bumpy ones. “What gym do you train at?” I ask Mason as I fall back on his bed. I really want to know whether he’s a Muscle Factory bodybuilder or a Panthers guy. But he doesn’t reply. He just yanks down my jeans and boxers with determination. All the time with this insanely sexy look on his face. And now his lips are around my cock. My hands are running around over his bald veiny head. I’m gripping onto his sticky-out ears. He’s sucking me hard and fast. I feel like I'm fucking transcending. Mason frees his lips and looks up at me. The sexiest fucking grin on his face. “Wanna fuck me, boy?” “Yeah!” I reply, gripping onto his shoulder blades. His eyebrows rise up in a stern expression. “Yes, Sir.” “Good boy!” Mason says, sitting up straight and climbing on top of my legs and mounting me. My hands grip onto his thick hard legs as he grips my cock and positions himself over it. What. A. Fucking. Image. This smoulderingly handsome bald-headed mature bodybuilder with his thick pillow-like pecs and wavy lined abs sitting on top of me. Towering over me. Dominating me. And then he sits down and … fuuuuck. I’m inside Mason. My cock is inside of him. He’s riding me. I’m fucking this hot bald muscle daddy bodybuilder I know barely anything about. This hot bald muscle daddy bodybuilder who’s bringing his arms up into a front double biceps pose. He’s flexing while I’m fucking him. His eyes go to the gloriously pumped balls of muscle bulging from his upper arm and he arrogantly purses his lips. Like he’s admiring his own flexed muscle. Like he’s proud of it. Like he’s totally getting off on the fact that he’s a bodybuilder. My hands run up his stomach. Feeling his rock hard, slightly bloated abs. He looks down at me, still flexing his biceps, still with that smug fucking look on his face. His lips arrogantly pursed. And then his mouth curls into the sexiest smirk. Still the epitome of masculinity. Still the ultimate muscle daddy. When my hands reach Mason’s chest, he brings his arms down and squeezes so his pecs tense and flex and the muscle explodes under my fingers. His arms now by his side, he brings his right forearm up and clenches his fist into another flex and my hands slip to the biceps muscles now bulging off his upper arm. I’m squeezing Mason’s rock hard, marble-to-the-touch biceps muscles. Worshipping the freaky biceps of a hot bald muscle daddy bodybuilder who’s riding my fucking cock. “Want me to pose, boy?” Mason barks. “Yes, Sir!” He puts his fists on his waist and manoeuvres his upper body into a front lat spread. Lips pursed, he lets out a hot grunt as he reaches the peak of the pose. My hands run over his arms. His pecs. Down to his lats now peaking out under his armpits. All the time he’s riding me. All the time I’m fucking him. He then throws his arms behind his head and as he sits down on my cock, his big abs crunch and pop before my eyes. The hard, bloated abs of a roided-up daddy. Crunching and flexing before me. Just as I put my hands on his crunched abs he brings his arms down and with his fists pushed together squeezes out a most muscular pose with a cocky, animalistic, “YEAH!” My hands run over every muscle. Everything hard and squeezed and flexed. The look on Mason's face. The attitude. The dominance. The sheer fucking power. He grunts again as he continues to flex and ride my cock. All the time still riding me. All the time still fucking him. I’m fucking this hot bald muscle daddy bodybuilder while feeling his thick biceps and squeezed pecs. I’m worshipping him. I’m quivering in his presence. I know how lucky I am. To be with him. To be inside him. To be fucking him. He may as well as well be the hottest and biggest bodybuilder on the planet. Right now he is. Right now he’s hotter than any other muscle freak in the world. He starts riding my cock faster. I’m fucking him harder. How can anything be hotter than this? Two bodybuilders fucking each other. My dick deep inside this daddy with his freakish biceps and God-tier tits. I’m consumed by his muscle. By his mass. By his everything. He’s riding me faster. Flexing harder. Grunting louder. Two sweaty bodybuilders fucking. Mason's flexing. I feel like I’m gonna cum. He’s grunting. I’m really gonna cum. The hot muscle daddy riding my cock unleashes this loud, powerful groan as he bounces on my cock. Thick ropes of cum erupt from his cock and shower my toned pecs and shredded bumpy abs as the most intense pleasure courses through my body and consumes every part of me. And now I’m groaning. Screaming loudly. My whole body is on fire. My whole body feels like it’s exploding. Because I’m cumming. I’m cumming inside this hot jacked muscle daddy bodybuilder who’s now lying flat on top of me, laughing and catching his breath. “Fuuuuck!” Mason cries dramatically. I laugh as he grins at me wildly. Looking as sexy as ever. Perhaps even more so. We stay like that for a few moments. Him on top of me. Me clinging onto his warm sticky back. A sweaty mass of thick muscle pinning me to the bed. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. I’m on such a high. Are all my nights out in Manchester going to end like this? Mason sighs and looks me in the eye. Like he’s studying my face. “Are all the muscle lads in Leicester as hot as you?” he asks, his lip curling into a fuck-off sexy smirk. I grin back, still gripping onto him. Right now it doesn’t feel like anything matters but me being here with him. Me and Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy might as well be the only two people in the world. “I’m actually moving to Manchester,” I tell him. Something flickers across Mason’s face. Just for a second. It’s almost like I just delivered him bad news. Did I imagine that? “Awesome!” he says, his face softening. And now he looks genuinely pleased. “Mmmm. I’m trying to get my room sorted.” I suddenly have a crazy fantasy whereby Mason makes me an offer to stay here in his flat. To live here with him. “Do you go to Utopia a lot?” I ask him. He pulls a face. “Every now and then.” “Do you get many bodybuilders in there?” Mason grins. “No. Although I did take a straight bodybuilder mate there once. He loved all the attention he got.” He grips my waist hard. “You are definitely a find!” he purrs. God those eyes. God that face. God that everything. “So do you go to The Muscle Factory?” Mason mischievously grins. He pauses before answering. Am I asking too many questions? Is this not okay? “I train at Panthers. The Muscle Factory’s a bit showy-offy for me. Too many posers.” I nod and furrow my eyebrows. “Oh right. Just … you kind of seemed to like posing earlier!” I say, smirking at him. Mason lets out a little laugh. “You know what I mean. Panthers is purely about the bodybuilding. No one cares who’s there or … who MIGHT be there. Or who’s looking at them.” Huh. I had my heart set on training at The Muscle Factory. It’s pretty much the most famous gym in Manchester, after all. One of the most famous bodybuilding gyms in the country, for that matter. From what I’ve seen and heard it’s a big, clean gym, which is kind of flashy with tons of modern machines and multiple rooms and areas. Loads of famous bodybuilders have trained there. It also homes some of the best and most well-known personal trainers in Manchester. Panthers, on the other hand, is an old-school hardcore dungeon gym which is anything but flashy. In fact, it looks like a bit of a shithole from the pictures I’ve seen on the Internet. It’s a no-frills gym with old scruffy weight machines which haven’t been updated for decades. It’s almost the complete opposite of The Muscle Factory. I never really pictured myself training there. But hearing Mason comparing the two gyms, I actually quite like what I’m hearing about Panthers. I’m definitely more intrigued if nothing else. “I think you’d like it,” Mason says, with an ominous little smirk and an arched eyebrow. My chest starts to pulse with excitement. Is that some kind of invitation? Is that him saying that he wants to see me again? I’m suddenly picturing Mason taking me on my first visit to Panther’s Gym. Looking after me. Holding my hand. You know. That sort of thing. “I don't think you’d turn as many heads in there as you did tonight, though!” I suddenly feel sheepish and smile, while looking down at Mason's arms. The thick furry slightly tanned arms of a mature bodybuilder. Is it possible to pause time and stay lying in this bed forever? That’s pretty much how I feel right now. “So … do you know Danny King?” I ask him, feeling weirdly nervous all of a sudden and picturing Danny in his black Panthers hoodie yesterday afternoon. “Of course! Everyone knows Danny.” “What’s he like?” I ask, gripping a little tighter onto Mason’s back. “Mmmm. Nice guy. Doesn’t really talk much. Well … not at the gym, anyway. Keeps himself to himself. Some people think he’s a bit arrogant but … I don't think he is.” I nod. I’m tempted to tell him that I actually met Danny King yesterday and my general impression of him wasn’t hugely positive, but I decide to keep that information to myself. “Why? You got a little thing for Danny?” Mason asks, with a teasing smirk. I screw my face up. “Nah.” Mason smirks like he doesn’t believes me. “Wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’s a hot little fucker.” He squeezes my waist again. “Like you!” he purrs. He slips his hand down my body, grabs my cock in his hand and squeezes. I’m swelling instantly. He makes an “Mmmm!” sound as he squeezes my swelling cock harder while bringing his lips to mine and kissing me again. This time softer and more gentle than before. Here we go again. I have no idea what time we finally drift off to sleep. Or what time it is when we both eventually wake up. My body aches like I've run a fucking marathon. I feel more self-conscious in the light of day. I have no idea what I look like. But I get the sense that I definitely don’t look my best. If it’s anything like the way my body feels right now. But I’m still buzzing from last night. From everything that happened with Mason. Meeting him. Coming back here. Having amazingly hot sex. He seems just as into me this morning too as he was last night. Touching me. Kissing me. I really could stay here all day if he asked me to. When he leaves me alone and heads to the bathroom, I step out of his bed and dig out my phone from the pocket of my jeans lying crumpled up on Mason’s bedroom floor. I have two missed calls from Liv and a text asking where I am. I suddenly have a flashback to last night of kissing Benji in the club. That look of hope and desperation on his face. Him leaning into me and saying, “I really like you.” I take my phone back to Mason’s bed and go into the Instagram app. The little red icon is showing, telling me there’s a DM waiting for me. I don’t think anything of it, but when I see who it’s from, my chest tightens sharply and I suddenly sit up straight. Because Alfie Winters has sent me a message. Hey, Nick. Thanks for coming around yesterday. The room is yours if you want it! Holy fucking - what?! I got the room? Is this a joke? I stare at the message. Trying to make sense of the words. I got the room. They want me to live with them. Alfie Winters and Danny King want me to be their flatmate. And now I’m thinking back to yesterday. The way Danny was with me. Kind of cold and rude. And that look he gave Alfie when he suggested the room was mine. I wonder what happened after I left. Maybe Alfie managed to talk Danny around. Maybe the other guy who was viewing the room didn’t show up. Maybe he was even less of a bodybuilder than I am. Who the fuck knows. But I got the room. I’m actually going to be living with them. Mason comes back into the bedroom. He looks at me suspiciously. Like he knows something’s going down. “Everything okay?” he asks, climbing back into bed and putting his arm around my waist, his body pushed right up against my side. I drop my phone, tell him yeah and grip onto one of his thick arms, grinning and feeling like I want to melt into his skin. “Mmmm. You are so fucking cute,” he purrs. My grin gets bigger as I grip tighter. “Like a hot little sexy muscle nerd!” Before I can answer, he’s kissing me again. The minty taste of toothpaste filling up my mouth. His hand slips down and grips my cock again. “Mmmm. I reckon you’ve got at least one more load in you,” he teases. “Wanna cum again?” “Yeah!” I say, gripping his thick arm tight and looking into his piercing blue-grey eyes. He arches an eyebrow. “Are you forgetting something? Yes …?” I smirk like crazy. “Yes, Sir!” Mason smirks back at me. So. Fucking. Sexy. “Good boy!” he purrs, giving my cock another hard squeeze. Here we go again.

Part 3 “Holy FUCK that’s tight!” Clint boomed as he waited for Sean’s hole to adjust to the size of his massive intruder. Sean was doing his best to relax, but his hole was on fire. “Just relax son.” Clint said, attempting to soothe Sean. Slowly, he pushed in another inch, and then another. Sean took a gasping breath, and but his hands on his dad’s powerful thighs, pushing him back. “Dad…you’re…ughhh…too big.” Clint leaned forward, his powerful arms still on either side of Sean, his cock frozen in place, and he whispered him Sean’s ear. “Can I fuck you with just the first few inches? Come on. You know you want his huge load inside you. That was true. Sean wanted nothing more than to be covered and filled by Clint’s load. “Okay. But no more than what’s inside me now.” “Promise.” Clint said as he got back up. He pulled his cock almost all the way out, only leaving in the head, then sank in a few inches, he did this a few times testing the length and Sean’s response. Then he began to move faster. Sean couldn’t help it. He was whimpering and moaning in pleasure and in pain. His cock bounced as his dad’s rock hard dick penetrated him. Sean couldn’t take it much longer. The feeling of his dad inside him. Looking up at his powerful flexing muscles as he fucked him with perfect precision. Clint’s pecs flexed, his biceps swollen. Sean came. Ropes of cum streaking up his stomach. “Oh fuck yeah. That made your hole so fucking tight. I’m gunna cum son. Are you ready?” “Yes daddy.” “Tell me what you want son.” “I want your load.” “Where do you want it.” “Inside me sir. Please. Fill me up with that daddy load.” Clint threw his head back and pushed his cock in as far as Sean allowed. The head, impossibly, got even larger, and Clint began to pump his load inside of Sean. Shot after shot of cum landing inside his son, Clint didn’t seem to stop. He began to rock his hips back and forth, urging his cock to keep pumping Sean full. “Fuckkkkk dad. Oh my god. So much cum.” Clint was creating deep, vibrating, gutteral, animal noises as his orgasm slowed. He pulled his cock out of Sean’s hole with a wet, loud, *pop*, his cock still jerking and twitching sending out ropes of cum all over Sean’s hole. A thick creamy load covered the tip of his dad’s cock and every space in between. Clint grabbed his cock and ran it up and down Sean’s creamy crack, the wet noise causing him to smile. “That was one hell of a first load son!” Sean looked in confusion, “first load?” “Sean. Be fucking for real. Look at me!” With that Clint flexed one large bicep, his cock responding in kind by burping out another shot of cum. “I usually need to cum 4-5 times before my cock relaxes.” Clint studied Sean, “what’s the matter son? Is this it what you wanted?” Sean sat up, his poor gaped hole still leaking with copious amounts of cum. “It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted, and more. I just can’t believe it’s happening. And with every passing minute somehow you just keep getting more….more….” “More fucking hot?” Clint said, a devilish smile creeping onto his face and a wink sealing the deal. “Yeah.” Sean let out with a sigh. “Tell you what. Why don’t we hold off on more ass fuckin for a little and focus more on your worshiping your daddy’s big strong muscles and this big ol’ cock that still needs to be drained?” Sean’s eyes lit up. His dad had listened to him. “Please.” He said, and Clint pulled him into a hug. “Alright. Then next position is going to be throat fucking.” With that Clint grabbed Sean and pulled himself up so that his ass was sitting on Sean’s chest. He slowly lowered himself down, careful to not put his full weight on Sean, but also putting just enough pressure so that Sean couldn’t move and he could feel the power. Clint gripped his cock in his hand, and smacked Sean across the face. The thick sticky cum splattering on his lips. “God. Look how big my dick is compared to your cute little face.” From his point of view, Sean could only see the girth of Clint’s big dick, and past that, his enormous shelf like pecs. Sean stuck out his tongue as his dad smacked him more with his heavy cock. Clint scooted forward, holding his big balls over Sean’s waiting mouth. “Look at that pretty little mouth.” Clint licked his lips, “I think daddy’s balls need some attention.” Sean’s mouth watered, he was drooling as his dad lowered his fuzzy balls into his mouth. Leans lapped his tongue over Clint’s balls, only able to handle one at a time to to their size, swollen with another massive load waiting to be released. “That’s right son. Worship your fathers big bull balls.” Sean SUCKED and lathered his dad’s balls, the salty taste of fresh sweat filling his mouth, the smell of Clint’s manly crotch filling his nose and sending him into pleasure. Using his free hand, Clint reached back and gripped Sean’s stiff cock. Sean moaned with his dad’s big balls in his mouth, the vibrations turning Clint on even more. Pulling his balls out of Sean’s mouth, Clint moved back, positioning the tip of his cock right at his son’s lips. “Let’s see how much of daddy’s cock you can swallow boy.” Pushing with force, Clint shoved the thick head of his cock into Sean’s mouth. Sean had one talent here he could flex, he possessed no gag reflex. Clint pushed further and further, Sean’s lips stretching at accommodate the thickness of his dad’s meat. Slowly Clint pushed more and more cock into Sean, Sean breathed through his nose, determined to impress his dad. Clint moaned and bucked his hips. Starting to get a rhythm as he felt his balls scrape against Sean’s strong chin. Using his strength, Clint held his big body up and moved rhythmically in and out of Sean’s mouth. He’d pull out until he felt his cockhead touch Sean’s warm moist lips, then he’d shove it back in until he felt Sean’s nose diving into his pubes. Sean gasped and slobbered and but never once did he release his dad from his mouth. Sean reached and grabbed his dad’s huge muscle ass that was planted firmly on his chest and began to try and work his fingers into the crack. Earlier he couldn’t get it, but now he was determined to fine his dad’s hairy hole. Swallowing cock and using every last bit of consciousness he had left, Sean worked at sliding his hand deeper and deeper into the furry muscled ass. Finally, he felt it. The tight pucker of Clint’s man hole. With one finger Sean worked his way into Clint’s ass. “Awe fuck. Son. You’re getting me close.” His breathing picked up. His chest heaving, cock swelling. Sean inserted another finger and went deeper. “Fuck boy. Fuck. I’m gunna cum.” Sean shoved a third finger inside Clint, forcing his hand as deep as it would go, at the same time lifting his head as much as he could, feeling his dad’s cock shove deep into his throat. “Ahhhhhhhh!” Clint yelled as he shoved his hips forward pulling his ass away from Sean’s hand, and unloading his thick wads of cum deep inside Sean. As his cock pumped cum Clint slowly pulled his cock out of his sons mouth, thick jizz coating ever surface inside Sean on its way. Popping the head out while he was still cumming his cock rocked and jerked as Clint sprayed Sean’s face with his load. “Yeah son. Take daddy’s fucking load. Fuck!” Sean stuck out his tongue licking Clint’s still leaking cock. Clint began to jerk his dick, forcing more cum out of his length, “damn you look so good covered in your dad’s cum.” “Well there’s plenty of it.” Sean said, licking the final drops off of Clint’s cock. Smacking Sean’s tongue with the head of his cock, the sound of a wet and heavy *thwack* *thwack* *thwack* filling the room. “There’s still more where that came from boy.” Clint slid his huge body down Sean’s torso, planting his large firm ass on top of Sean’s cock. The deep crack completely enveloping Sean’s dick as Clint grinded back and forth, the hairy hole teasing his son’s cock. “You ready to see if you can handle fucking a real man?” Sean’s mind went blank. For a moment it seemed he levitated above their bodies looking down, his dad’s huge figure completely covering his own. Sean’s cock rubbing between his dad’s bare ass cheeks, Clint’s own monster cock grinding in the tight space between Sean’s tight torso, and Clint’s rock hard body. “Well?” Clint said, pulled Sean back to reality, “you wanna fuck your daddy?” “Yes sir.” “Oh you’re going to love this.” Clint said, applying his cocky smile and rolling off top of Sean. Clint got down on the floor on all fours. “Good thing out already stretched my hole a little.” Clint said looking back over his shoulder and winking to Sean. “Come on don’t be shy.” And Clint smacked his huge ass, the relaxed muscles bouncing and shaking with the force of the heavy hand. Sean squared his body behind Clint’s, his own cock wet and covered in cum and spit. He lined up his cock and prepared to insert. “Wait!” Clint said suddenly, “I have an idea. Go. Ahead and put it in. But then freeze.” Sean obeyed. Slowly poking his small cock in between his dad’s massive ass, the depth and thickness of Clint’s ass swallowing Sean’s crotch. Clint helped by pulling his cheeks apart, allowing Sean access to the hairy hole deep within. Once Sean had pushed in as far as he could before his pelvis made contact with Clint’s rock hard glutes, he froze, just as instructed. “Are you ready for this?” Clint said, looking over his shoulder again at Sean. Sean tried to imagine what was about to happen, but nothing could have prepared him for what came next. Clint arched his back, extended back his legs, lifted his upper body off the floor with his arms. Sean realized he was laying on Clint’s back, cock still inside his dad, and Clint was in a push up position. “Let’s make this interesting son. You fuck me while I do push-ups. If you can fuck me for longer than I can keep going, you win. But if you cum before I’m done doing push-ups, I win.” “I’m about to cum right now dad. This is hardly fair.” “You can do it. And even if you can’t, you get to fuck me, cum in me, and worship my muscles as I pump them up. I don’t see how you can lose.” Sean reached his arms around Clint’s big body. Around his outspread lats, and to his chest. Sean couldn’t reach all the way around his dads big body, but he could go far enough to hold on to each pec, and to reach Clint’s big sensation nipples. Sean gave them a tug, and Clint responded with his hole twitching, gripping Sean’s cock with force. Sean moaned and Clint slowly began to descend into his first push-up. As he lowered his body his ass tightened around Sean’s cock, trapping it inside his body, Sean’s hands got further apart as Clint’s back and chest extended in the push-up. Sean held on, squeezing his dad’s huge chest as he concentrated on not cumming just yet. At the bottom of the push-up, Clint held position, flexing his ass once more, sending waves of pleasure through Sean, causing the smaller man to moan again. “Oh this is going to be fun.” Clint said, and he began to raise his body back up.

I just got off a 12 hour flight. I have had a bit of creative energy and a lot of time to kill so this is what I came up with. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I stood in the airport terminal with my boarding pass tucked into my passport, looking at the screen to see what gate I needed. I can still feel the frustration as I march off towards my gate. I can't believe they charged me an overweight luggage fee. It was half a pound! As if they couldn't just let that go. Part of me thinks the guy behind the counter was jealous of how tightly my shirt sleeves wrapped around my biceps. I've been dialling in my training at the gym and it's showing. But what really stuck with me was how the guy behind the counter grinned and said "trust me, you'll be glad I charged you." What the hell does that even mean? Shaking the thought out of my head, trying to let go of the frustration, I take a seat near my gate and start reading some of the new posts on a bodybuilding forum. I'm traveling for a conference that I'm sure is going to be nothing but a snore fest, but at least my meals are covered and I get to be somewhere warm for a week. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to hanging out by the pool so I can show off my sculpted body I've been working on. Speaking of which, I look down and flex my quads. My leg workouts must be really hitting the mark, cause my jeans are looking tight! I spend the rest of my time waiting by doing the normal airport things until I hear the announcement that they're going to start boarding my flight. As I approach my seat, I remember just how much I've grown since the last time I've flown anywhere. This 8 hour flight is going to be cramped and uncomfortable as hell. I nod and half smile at the person sitting next to me, who seems not too pleased to be sitting next to someone who is clearly going to have a hard time sharing the arm rest. And of course they're right. It's impossible for me to keep my shoulders inside the bounds of my seat and I inevitably spill over into their space. Even my legs are too thick to not cross over onto the faux leather seat cushion that defines their territory. "Damn" I think to myself "I've really bulked up since my last flight" I knew I had gained some substantial mass but I'm even surprising myself with how comically small my seat seems to be for me. I buckle in and half listen as the cabin crew explains how a seatbelt works and to not inflate the lifejacket until leaving the plane, all the while I'm trying my best to not shove my seat neighbour into the aisle. I might be big... Bigger than I thought..? But I'm still trying to be polite. We take off and the plane climbs to cruising altitude and I just can't get comfortable. I shift and adjust, and it feels like I'm somehow making it worse. "You okay, man?" The guy next to me asks, clearly annoyed by everything going on. "Yeah, sorry. It's just a tight squeeze for me" "Uh huh..." He says, like I just pointed out the most obvious fact in the world. The cabin crew starts to pass out the in-flight meal, so I lower my tray table but it won't lay flat. I push down on it, trying to make it level when I feel pressure in my groin. It isn't laying flat because a lump of man meat between my legs isn't letting it. "What the..." I whisper to myself in disbelief. I knew I was a little above average but this is way more than I boarded the plane with. As I'm staring in disbelief, I hear a groaning sound coming from my shoulders. My shirt is being stretched over my shoulders and lats, which have now forced my shocked seat neighbour to lean over his arm rest to make room for me. The seams of my jeans start to pop as my thighs become too much for them to handle. My pecs are filling up half of my tray table as I continue to grow. The various sounds of my outfit straining are starting to cause a commotion amongst the other passengers, meanwhile I can't help but smile as I watch my dreams come true aboard a 747 at around 30,000 feet in the air. The other passengers in my row stand up as I become so broad that there's no hope of them staying seated next to me. I'm savouring the sounds of my clothes being torn away as I become more and more massive, leaving me in nothing but the speedo I wore under my clothes in the hopes of getting to the pool as soon as I got to the resort. I can feel my now-exposed pecs pressing against the row of seats in front of me as I shift my body so I'm in the middle seat and each arm now takes up the seats on either side. More passengers around me scurry away as it becomes clear that the growth isn't slowing down. The seats around me start to crumple and bend as my body expands outwards. I flex one arm and grope the expanding bulge between my legs with the other. I hear the captain make an announcement about an emergency landing, but I'm too focused on the fact that I'm taking up more and more of the cabin with my growing body. At this point I can reach out and touch both sides of the plane, and my arms are bigger than any other chest on board this flight. As I flex and grow, I'm sending chairs and carry-on luggage flying every which way. My legs spread out wider and wider, due to both how huge the muscles are getting and the bulge between them forcing them outwards. Everyone on board is huddling up against either the front or the back of the plane as they watch me go from buff to Hulk and, to my delight, even bigger. I can feel the engines revving up as they work to handle all my extra mass. Music to my ears. All my flexing seems to spur on more growth as my elbows start to bump into the walls of the plane when flexing my biceps. It's now impossible for my ankles to not touch the walls, my thighs wider than a bodybuilder's shoulders and a bulge that rivals a smart car keeping them splayed out. I can feel the plane making a rapid descent as I try to flex and force more growth onto my already immense body. My pecs are heaving as my lustful panting makes them rise and fall rapidly, both now approaching the size of my queen sized mattress, but twice as thick. Now I notice that I can no longer bring my arms up for a bicep flex. My growth obsession seems to be overriding my claustrophobia, because I only care about more. More muscle. More cock growth... Just... More! And I keep getting what I wish for as my shoulders are now taking up the whole width of the plane and my pecs pressing firmly into the ceiling. My bulge, refusing to be upstaged, is taking up every square inch it can find that isn't already taken up by my legs that are themselves starting to dwarf some sequoia trees. It's at this point that I realize that I'm now completely stuck inside this metal tube in the sky. I can't move at all as my over-developed muscles and gargantuan bulge take up most of the cabin. The metal starts to groan as my body refuses to stop growing. The plane makes an emergency landing at a large international airport somewhere along our flight route. And not a moment too soon as the metal exterior of the plane starts to split much like my clothes did. The crew and passengers inflate the slides and escape as the plane buckles and I feel my backside touch the runway. With a powerful flex, the metal explodes and my body is exposed to the open air. My arms and legs stretch out and expand as I lay on the runway. My lats now spread out as wide as the now crumpled wings once did. I'm sitting amongst the wreckage of the plane I just outgrew and I take stock of the raging hard-on that is free to extend upwards now that it's no longer trapped inside the confines of a plane. I notice the cylindrical shape of the plane I once fit inside and come up with a clever idea. With some reduced mobility, I reach out and grab the front half of the plane and instert my monolithic cock into the tube and thrust into it. This gets me the result I'm looking for, feeling the plane gently squeeze my shaft as I jerk it up and down. My biceps and pecs rub against each other as I feel the expansion continue, making it harder to move by the minute. With a crash, I bring a whole new meaning to the word "cockpit" as my cock head smashes through the front of the plane. At this point, my arms are getting close to not being able to reach the metal tube I'm using as a flesh light, so I start working it faster while I still can. My pecs are now so large that I can only see the tip of my towering cock as it moves in and out of the cockpit with each thrust. I feel my blimp-sized nuts churn and rumble as they pull up and my cock starts to twitch. With a roar of satisfaction, a geiser of cum erupts out of me. A surge of growth causes what's left of the plane to split and crumble away as my cock becomes too huge for it. Although my head is surrounded by my pecs, lats, and shoulders, I can still see that my dick is now casting a shadow over the air traffic control tower, and this fills me with an enormous sense of satisfaction. Cumming seems to have sent my growth into overdrive as. I take up the entire width of the runway and dwarf the airport that stands next to my colossal body. I can't help but smile as I lay there, unable to stand due to all the muscle mass that now covers my body, knowing that I wouldn't have it any other way. My traps crash into the airport terminals. The thickness of my pecs now greater than the height of the air traffic control tower as my muscles continue to expand. I can feel the growth slowing down as I take up the entire footprint of the airport and the surrounding area. I chuckle as I realize my pecs are now large enough for a plane to land on if the captain wanted to try an alternative place to set their plane down. Although, the same could be said about my cock and thighs.

Part 4 “Count them out loud son.” Clint said. “5,6,7,8,9,10…” Sean began to count, trying to focus more on that and less on the incredible pleasure coming from having his cock buried in his dad’s muscled ass. “20,21,22,23,24,25…” Sean continued, Clint kept an even pace, moving his body steadily up and down, the fluid motion of the push-up carrying Sean along. “45,46,47,48,49,50…” Clint let out a grunt as he past 50, stalling for a moment, “I gotta say, I figured you cum by now. I’m impressed. Maybe I need to try a bit harder.” Clint began to pump out push-ups in rapid succession, moving so quickly Sean was having a hard time keeping up. The increased speed increased the clenching and relaxing of the muscles in Clint’s ass. Sean moaned as he struggled to not cum. “100,101,102,103…” Sean was determined to keep up with Clint, he had to impress his dad again. The stalemate continued, Clint effortlessly moving through his push-ups, and Sean fighting the urge to blow the biggest load of his life inside his father. “205,206,207…” Sean noticed his dad had started to get sweaty, his hands rubbing over Clint’s thick chest, Sean felt the sweat trapped in the hair on his dad’s pecs, and he felt the sweat between their bodies as Sean lay on his dad’s back. He couldn’t hold it any longer, “Dad. I’m. I’m. Going to cum!” Sean said. “Fuck yeah. Cum inside your daddy’s big muscle ass son, show me how much you love me huge muscles!” Sean gritted his teeth, and his cock began to unload inside Clint. Shot after shot Sean pumped into his dad’s tight hot hole. “Ohhhh yeah son. What a fucking load!” Clint said, almost sounding proud in his adulation. Once Sean had stopped cumming, Clint rolled his back, Sean’s cock slid out of the hole and Sean rolled to the floor. Landing in his back on the floor he saw Clint’s mighty figure rising above him. Sweaty, swollen, hard as a rock still. Sean went to get up, but Clint placed one huge heavy foot on Sean’s chest and held him to the floor. “Stay down there son. Enjoy the show.” Sean couldn’t see his dad’s face past his pecs at the angle, but Clint was jerking his large cock with both hands. The force of the masterbation causing the now pumped up pecs to shake. The sweat dripped off of Clint’s body, landing on Sean as the little man lay below his father, pinned to the floor by his dad’s huge foot. “Fuck. Open up your mouth son!” Sean did, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, Clint pointed his cock down, and cum began to spray from the tip. Ropes of cum assaulted Sean’s face, many making it into his mouth, streaking across Sean’s chest. Clint’s orgasm slowed. The king thick ropes of cum changing to heavy drops. Finally Clint shook his cock one last time, a massive glob of cum flying from the tip and landing directly into Sean’s mouth. Sean licked his lips and swallowed, “damn. You taste so good dad.” He said, feeling the huge amount of cum covering his body, scooping up handfuls of his fathers cum and putting them in his mouth. “God you look fucking good laying there covered in my cum.” Clint said, finally releasing his cock and lifting his foot off of Sean. Clint stepped back and relaxed as he sat on the bed. Leaning against the headboard with his tree trunk legs spread apart wide. Placing his large hands on his thighs, Clint took a few deep breaths. Sean stood up and sat on the bed as well. “Well. Would you look at that. You tired your old man out.” Clint said, gripping his soft cock and smacking it’s still substantial thick length on his thigh. Sean climbed up the bed, positioning himself between Clint’s heavy legs. With one hand he gripped his dad’s cock, still almost too thick to wrap his hand around while soft, and with the other he caressed the muscles in his dad’s ripped thigh. “Come on dad. You can’t stop now.” As he continued to stroke his dad’s cock he flicked Clint’s nipple with his tongue. “Your muscles are just getting pumped up. You’re looking fucking huge. Your last load was the biggest yet. You can’t be done yet.” In his hand he felt his dad’s cock getting hard again, blood pumping into the shaft. The thick tube of meat getting longer, harder, thicker in Sean’s hand. He felt his fingers being spread apart as Clint’s cock expanded in his hand. “Look at that. I knew my big daddy still had another load for me in there.” Sean lowered his mouth to Clint’s cock he said, “I want to feel it grow in my mouth.” With that Sean deep throated his dad’s dick, burying his nose into his dad’s pubes. Once he was at the base of Clint’s cock, he opened his mouth a bit more, sticking out his tongue and he began to lick. “Ohhhh fuck yes boy! Suck on that cock and lick those bull balls holy shit that’s hot!” Clint said, bucking his hips. Finally Sean felt Clint’s cock turn into hot iron in his mouth, stretching his jaw and oozing precum into the back of his throat. Sean pulled his mouth off of his dad’s cock, leaving behind a slippery layer of spit covering the length. Sean grabbed with both hands and began to work in twisting motion. Clint grunted a deep gutteral sound as he shoved his hips forward. “Fuck son. You know how to work a cock…..let daddy give you some tips.” Clint gripped Sean’s small waist in his hands and lifted his son. Clint stood, holding Sean by his waist. As he planted his feet to the ground in a steady stance, he held Sean’s crotch towards his face, and Sean was upside down staring at his dad’s dick. Clint swallowed Sean’s cock while holding him in the air, hungrily sucking Sean all the way down and taking his balls into his wide open mouth. His stubble rubbing against Sean’s bare body sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. Sean gripped his dad’s cock with both hands and began to work at the huge erection before him. Working his tongue over the engorged cock head as he went It didn’t take long for Sean to cum. Clint hurriedly swallowing ever drop of Sean’s load, which wasn’t much as he was drained from their session. Clint on the other hand, had a large load still waiting for his son. Laying Sean down on the bed, Clint positioned him so that he was on his back, with his head hanging off the bed. “I wanna see my cock as it moves down your throat.” He said, and he touched the large head of his penis to his sons waiting lips. Pushing forward, he pushed past the soft lips and down into Sean’s throat. Clint placed his huge hand over Sean’s throat as he thrust deeper, “are hell yeah son. I can feel you taking all of my huge cock. You’re such a good little cock sucker.” As he thrust his hips back and forth, he began to pick up speed, Sean working to control his breathing, and Clint preparing to bust a load deep in Sean’s throat. “Fuck. I can feel my cock swelling in your mouth. I’m gunna cum son!” With that Clint shoved his cock in once more, burying Sean’s nose into his huge balls. Sean felt them contract as they began to pump cum through the long shaft. “Fucking. Swallow. Every. Drop. Ughhhhhh!” Clint pumped shot after shot into Sean, refusing to pull out until he was finished filling his boy up. Sean felt the warm thick load coating his insides, the power of the burst of cum shoving each one before it deeper into his throat. Finally Clint slid his cock out of Sean, smacking the wet sticky meat on Sean’s face he said, “have you had enough yet?” “I’ll never be able to get enough of this.” Sean said rubbing Clint’s powerful muscles and semi hard cock. “Let’s say we go shower once more and then head to bed. I’m exhausted and I need to be up early tomorrow.” The two headed to the shower, unable to keep their hands off each other still. Sean taking every chance to feel his dad’s huge hard hairy muscles, and Clint unable to resist his sons tight tiny body. Washing the copious amounts of cum off of each other, father and son worked in silence, appreciating each others bodies. When finished after drying off, Clint carried Sean to bed and laid him down, hugging him from behind. Sean considered his position, he’d never felt more loved and safe in his life. Wrapped in his dad’s giant arms, his thick hairy chest brushing against his back, the strong cock resting between his legs. He finally had the two things he’d always truly wanted the most, a dad and a muscle daddy. Waking in the morning, Sean rolled over. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, “hey, wake up son.” Sean blinked his eyes, the sunlight bright in the room. As he opened his eyes he was greeted by his dad’s large form beside the bed. He was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, stretched by his big cock, which was hard as ever before. A dark spot formed at the tip where he was leaking. “Sean. I need some help.” Sean sat up in bed, “what’s wrong dad?” “Well. I woke up this morning with this huge morning wood. I was leaking precum all over you, I decided to go workout, maybe burning off some steam would help, but afterwards I was even hornier. I took a cold shower to cool down, but all I got were some hard sensitive nipples. So I was wondering if you could help me with this?” Punctuating the question Clint smacked his cock a few times, the heavy beast threatening to bust the underwear. Sean’s eyes lit up. His own morning wood almost busting at the sight and situation presented in front of him. “So. Do you have any ideas on how to help me out?” Clint said, giving Sean a devilish grin and his cock jumping in the underwear in anticipation. “Well. I think we should go back to the gym and you should workout some more. Get out some energy. While you workout your muscles, I’ll take care of your cock. Maybe we can drain your energy and cock at the same time.” Clint smiled, “I like the sound of that. You haven’t even seen my gym yet. You’re in for a surprise.” Following Clint down the hall they walked outside, across a few stone steps, and into the garage adjacent to the house. Walking in Sean had expected nothing impressive, but that changed as he crossed the threshold into the room. The floor was a polished concrete with thick mats under each piece of gym equipment. There was equipment for each possible body part and exercise you could wish. Everything from a simple bench press to a complete smith machine. Rows of different sized dumbbells, stacks of heavy weights strewn across the room. Mirrors covering the entirety of two of the walls. Belts, gloves, protein, an assortment of other things all littered shelves hanging on the other walls. A large sound system and water cooler in one corner of the room. “Pretty cool huh?” Clint said, reading Sean’s shocked expression. “This is impressive dad. No wonder you got so damn big.” “Heh heh, yeah. This all for sure helped. So what should we workout today? I did biceps and legs this morning, and that clearly didn’t work.” Clint gestured down to his still hard cock. “Hmm.” Sean said. Walking towards his father, “I think we need to work this chest. It’s a little small, could be bigger.” Clint looked down at Sean and bounced his pecs, “you think I’m small?” He said. “Well I mean. I’ve seen bigger.” Sean said, teasingly. “Then I’ll have to change that.” Clint walked to a stack of 45lb weights and began to load them onto a bench press bar. Sean tried to watch and keep count, but his mind was clouded by thoughts of how he’d use and abuse his dangerously horny dad here in the gym. Something about the way he’d teased his dad’s size earlier really did it for him. Clint lay down under the bar, the metal bending and bowing up in the middle from the weight on their side of the bar. Clint gripped the thick metal, repositioned his hands, and gripped again. Sean approached his dad as he situated himself on the bench. His legs spread wide on either side of the padded support. Clint’s cock still hard as iron in the thin briefs. As Clint lifted the bar off of the rack, Sean began to lick the length of his dad’s cock through the underwear. Clint pumped out rep after rep of the heavy weight, while Sean worshiped the covered length of his cock. Sean heard a tear. The elastics in the underwear starting to break and give at the power of Clint’s hard cock. His dad racked the weight and he lay back on the bench. Sean still licking the length of the meat, and placing his mouth on the covered head of his dad’s cock. Clint stood, and Sean, in his knees in front of his dad, was looking directly at the huge bulge. Precum so thick and plentiful it was leaking out through the fabric and Sean licked it off of the outside of the briefs. “Take them off of me.” Clint instructed. Sean reached up and grabbed the waistband. “Ah ah ah. Not with your hands. With your mouth.” Sean moved, grabbing the waistband between his teeth and pulling down. He had to pull out and down to get the waistband over the obnoxious length of his dad’s full sized erection that was sticking straight out. After the front was taken care of, the waistband had snagged in the back. Sean moved around his massive father to get the back. The top of the underwear caught on the shelf of ass Clint possessed, a dark wet spot forming along his crack as the big man began to sweat. Sean grabbed the underwear in his teeth again, pulling them down slowly over his dad’s ass, his nose and lips running along the length of the deep crack between Clint’s cheeks. Finally off and on the floor, Clint stepped out of the underwear. As he laid back down on the bench. Clint’s cock lay and rested on his hard stomach, and Sean positioned his body and placed his ass directly over his dad’s cock. Letting his crack fill with the length of the huge member under him. Placing his hands on Clint’s jacked pecs for support, Clint lifted the bar again. Pumping up and down the heavy weight as if it were nothing. Sean for his part, grinding his ass along the length of his father’s thick cock. “Fuckkkkk!” Clint said, racking the weight. He grabbed Sean and pulled his head between his deep pecs, bouncing them as Sean licked and worshipped the massive chest. Clint bucked his hips, moving his cock up and down Sean’s ass crack as he smothered his son between his huge pecs. “Please son. Let me fuck you again.” Clint pleaded. Sean hesitated. Remembering the massive member and the pain from the night before. But feeling the impressive size and hardness of his dad’s cock between his ass and being completely surrounded by his huge pumped muscles made him reconsider. “Okay dad. But be gentle.” “I’ll let you take the lead.” Clint said, laying back down on the bench. He reached up and grabbed the bar and Sean spun around. Placing his ass in front of Clint’s face and preparing to wet the huge cock before it entered him. Clint dove into Sean’s ass. Working one finger, then two, then three in he said, “damn son. You’re still stretched from last night, and you still have daddy’s load in you. I think your ass is ready to go.” Sean swallowed Clint’s cock, ensuring it was coated in spit, and then he positioned his body so he was hovering over Clint’s strong erection. Clint, holding the bench press bar again, nodded to Sean. Sean lowered his body, feeling the huge head slide in surprisingly easy. Clint moaned as he entered his son’s wet, warm hole. Sean placed his hands on Clint’s chest, bracing himself, and he began to lower his body down onto the huge cock below him. Clint lifted the bar and began to bench again. Sean reached as much of the cock as he could handle and lifted his body, pulling out until only the head was in. He moved in a rhythm. Taking as much as he could, then lifting out almost completely. “Fuck dad. It’s so big.” Clint simply continued to bench, his chest swelling with power, his face contorted with pleasure and strain as he pushed his muscles to the limit. Quickly Clint racked the bar, reached his arms around Sean, and pulled him into his chest once again. Clint moved his hips, pumping in and out of Sean, respecting where Sean had stopped on his own. Clint picked up speed. Working his cock into Sean while his son moaned and cried into the crevice between his pecs. Pushing in, one final time, his cock swelled and began to pump cum into Sean. Sean felt the thick warm load fill his insides as Clint pumped another massive load into him. Shot after shot of cum raced out of Clint’s cock. Finally, Clint’s cock began to soften, and he pulled out of Sean, a thick river of cum following as Sean’s stretched hole began to recover from the pounding. “Thank you son. I was afraid that morning wood would never go away.” “Dad.” Sean said tentatively, “you’re so fucking huge and horny. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” “Well, the way you worship my muscles and get off to your big muscle daddy is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” “How big are you dad?” “What? Like my cock?” “No. Like everything. How tall are you, how much do you weigh, his big are your arms, chest, legs. I know you’re massive, but how massive are you?” Clint got that same sky devilish grin on his face that Sean had come to know. “I haven’t measured in a while, Son. How’d you like to help me get some fresh stats?” “Oh I’d fucking love to!” Sean said, not even trying to hide his excitement and enthusiasm. Clint walked over to one wall and grabbed a tape measure off a shelf. He then walked and stood in front of a mirror. Sean followed and stood next to his dad. The height difference so clear in the mirror, Clint looking wider than two of Sean. “Now. I know from getting my license renewed last month that I’m 6’8.” Clint then flexed his left arm, lowering it down to in front of Sean’s face. The huge boulder seeming as big as Sean’s head, the huge flexed are taking up his entire field of vision. “Go ahead son. Measure that big bicep.” Sean draped the tape measure over the tall bicep peak. He observed the insertions of the muscles. His dad had perfect genetics to create such an incredible arm, the long insertion allowing for the king sized bicep to fill with space, and the split peak of the bicep allowing it to rise up along the length. Clint pumped his bicep a few times, a large vein popping up along the head of the bicep. Sean wrapped the tape measure around the low hanging tricep, bringing it back around. “Well, what’s it say?” Clint asked, looking down at Sean. “25.5 inches.” Sean said, practically drooling over the big arm. “Why don’t you give daddy’s bicep a kiss before we continue.” Sean leaned forward, placing his soft lips on his dad’s flexed arm. When his mouth connected, Clint began to twist his wrist, flexing and unflexing the bicep under Sean’s mouth. “How’s that big arm taste?” Sean pulled back, “it’s so hard dad, but it tastes so fucking sweet.” Clint turned to face Sean, lowering his right bicep down in front of Sean, “now measure the other one.” Sean lay the tape measure over the bicep, around the tricep, and pulling it tight. “26”.” “My right arm has always been a bit bigger than my left.” Clint stood to his full height and hit a double bicep pose. “What do you think son? Can you tell a difference in the size?” Sean looked up at the incredible display of size and strength. “No dad. They both look perfect.” “Speaking of perfect. Let’s measure this chest!” Clint dropped his arms to his side and bounced his pecs, rhythmically and slowly rolling the huge slabs of meat, the striations popping through the dark chest hair. Sean looked straight forward, staring directly into his dad’s monster chest. Grabbing the tape measure he tried to get it around the expanse of chest, Clint relaxed to make it easier, Sean leaned in, his face burying deep into his dad’s chest as he tired to get the tape measure around Clint’s wide back. He pressed and stretched as hard and as far as he could, finally, barely he got the tape measure around. Centering it over the deep divide between the two pecs. “Damn dad. The tape measure almost isn’t long enough. 59.5” and the thing only goes to 60”.” “How’s that for a small chest boy? I’ll need to get a new tape measure so I can just grow and grow!” Clint looked down, shook his thigh, then flexed. The muscles popping out and each separated by defined grooves. Sean leaned in, pulling the tape measure over the largest, thickest part of Clint’s thigh. “31”.” Sean said, still looking at the ripped quad, running his hand over the ripped hard muscle. He then felt a heavy weight on his head, looking up Clint smacked his face with his rock hard cock. “How bout you measure this muscle next, son.” Sean held the tape measure, pressing it to the base of Clint’s thick dick. Slowly moving his hand along the length of his dad’s dick, Sean enjoyed and appreciated the veiny thickness of his fathers length. Reaching the tip he read out, “11.5”.” Clint moved his hands to his nipples and tugged at them, his cock responding by growing larger, thicker. “What about now?” “12” even.” Sean said, resisting the urge to swallow his dad’s cock in the moment. “How thick?” Sean chose the thickest part of the cock, near the base, although it was roughly the same thickness all the way down, the base seemed to be just that much thicker. “9”. Thick as a beer can.” Sean said. Clint stepped back and walked over to the scale sitting near the door. “Come here and read the weight son. I can’t see it over these huge tits.” Clint laughed and bounced his pecs again. Sean walked over, looking at the readout on the scale, “345lbs.” Clint stepped off the scale, his weight causing the metal and plastic to groan. “How bout that son. 345lbs of rock hard muscle. So fucking big….everywhere.” Clint flexed his bicep, bringing it to his mouth, he licked his own big bicep. Cupping his pecs, he buried his chin into his hairy chest and licked the top of his pecs. His cock bouncing hard as he worshipped his own muscles. “Come here son. Enjoy these big muscles with me.” Sean moved over to his dad. Reaching his hands up and caressing Clint’s chest. Grabbing handfuls of the thick hair and feeling the muscles move under his hands. Clint bent down, grabbed Sean by his ass and lifted him up. Brining Sean’s face to his. They kissed, Clint’s tongue assaulting his mouth, his hands exploring his son’s hole. “Fuck son. I need to go eat. I need to feed these big muscles. I need some protein.” He sat Sean down and Sean hear his dad’s stomach growl. Walking inside, Sean watched his dad’s huge back and ass move. Following his dad inside, Sean finally took a moment to notice how hard his cock was. The muscle worship, the measuring, the admiration of his dad’s size, his dad kissing and feeling his own muscles. Sean had been close to cumming all morning but had prioritized making sure his dad came. “Dad.” Sean said, Clint stopping in his tracks as he moved into the kitchen, “I think I need to cum now.” “Well.” Clint began, “cum is a good source of protein. I’ll help you cum on one condition son.” “Yes dad. Anything.” “You have to promise to blow your whole load down my throat. I need all the protein I can get.” Clint gripped Sean by the waist and lifted him up. Resting Sean’s cock against his stubbly face, and letting Sean’s ass rest on his shelf like pecs. “Get ready son. Daddy’s hungry for cock this morning.”

My new roommate Jake is exactly my type. As handsome as they come, with a perfect ass. There is just one problem. He's straight. Since he moved in with me, I've constantly been looking for opportunities to check out his rump sneakily. Luckily for me, he likes to sleep on his stomach. He is always hot at night and only sleeps in his tight briefs. Many nights, I jerked my meat across the room to him while he was asleep. I sometimes get so horny while doing that that it's hard for me to contain myself and not just walk up to him, yank his briefs down, and expose his bare ass while he sleeps. Instead, I imagine myself doing so and burring myself between his cheeks. Jake is not only walking ass, though. We've actually become decent friends. We went out with some friends one night and got drunk. He lost a bet and had to give me a lap dance. Fuck, that was so hot! I had to hide my boner while everyone was watching us. I get wet instantly when I remember that night. Him lowering himself into my lap and onto my crotch. If I could, I would fuck him right then and there in front of everyone. Jake got pretty drunk that night. I had to carry him home. Poor guy puked on me, but I cleaned it up. No biggie. I was glad when I noticed that he didn't remember anything from last night, which spared him some embarrassment. To be honest, Jake is a total idiot. You can literally tell him anything, and he will believe it. I'd like to know if he can even scale on an IQ test or if he would just be written off as mentally impaired. Surprisingly though, and compared to many other straight guys, Jake is open-minded and overall a good dude. He is just a chill guy. Both Jake and I are consistent workout buddies besides being friends. My favorite activity at the gym is spotting him while he does his squats. His ass looks extra thick from that angle. "Man...I hate doing leg day!" Jake just finished his squats. "I wish I could skip it or do the least amount possible. Pfuh! Why do we always go so hard on everything when doing bodybuilding? " He wiped some sweat off his forehead. "You know there are no shortcuts Jake!" "Yeah, Yeah... Sometimes I wish there were. Besides steroids, I mean. Fuck, Bro, that shit is so dangerous. And besides, no one wants a micro penis." Jake let out a slight sigh. I don't know what came over me! It was like a rush through my veins, and I could feel it all throughout my body. The room started spinning and time froze. I had to close my eyes, and an image appeared in my mind. I thought that god was appearing in front of me. Was I dying? But the man I was seeing wasn't god. Heck, I wouldn't even call him a man. He looked more like a hulking giant! Fuck he was looking at me! "Congratulations, boy! The demons of desire have chosen you to be their vessel! We know what you want and grant you the ability to fulfill every last one of your desires. All you need to do is use your new capability to the fullest! That will give us power! HAHAHA! Now boy, no need to explain your gift to you. Once you return to the mortal realm, you will unconsciously know what we have gifted you with. All will be revealed. For now, forget this little interaction and wake up!" Wink. "Woah! Alex? ALEX!" "Fuck did I pass out?" Jake was holding me. My whole weight was pressed against his body. "Yeah, dude! Oh my god! You just scared the shit out of me. I thought you were passing out. You started collapsing, so I caught you, but the second I did, you woke up! Shit, man." "Woah, sorry dude. I'm fine, don't worry. Let's finish this workout!" "You sure bro?" "Yeah yeah, I'm fine." "Okay bro." I did feel fine. If Jake hadn't told me what happened, I would have had no clue I had just passed out. But something inside me did feel weirdly different. I felt a tingling of heat inside my gut. It didn't hurt or anything, and it felt… empowering? I couldn't get my eyes off Jake's ass during the rest of the workout. Again. As we finished, a fucked up and risky idea popped into my head. It came out of nowhere and felt like the best idea in the world. "Hey, bro! You were talking about shortcuts earlier, right?" "Yeah, man! God, I wish there were some. For real!" "Well, it's your lucky day!" "Huh?" "There actually is one! I might know of something dude!" "Wait for real? Like a shortcut for quicker gains?" "Ahuh!" "Tell me!" His eyes lit up. Oh fuck, I was really about to say this! "So I heard about this thing... it's a new discovery, so not many people know about this!" "Yoo, just tell me what it is man!" "Not here. Let's go to the locker rooms." Jake was visibly confused but followed me to one of the changing stalls like a puppy. We were still sweating from our workout, and the air in the enclosed space of the stall immediately got hot. "Okay, listen to this bro! So we know that our muscles need protein to grow, right? So there is this purest form of protein that is suitable for growth and useful for men." I grabbed Jake by his shoulder. There was pure anticipation in his eyes. "So basically. You inject this protein, and you see gains like never before!" Jake whistled, and a vicious smile appeared on his face. "You haven't heard the best part yet!" I gave Jake a little smirk. "It's all-natural, safe, and completely free!" "DUDE! You already sold me! Let's go. I don't even need to hear more about it." We both smiled. "I'm glad that you are bro. I wanted to try it and see if it worked. So this method will give you the best gains on your glutes and legs. That's great for you, right? You hate training those muscles the most." "Yes dude! I hate training them. But whoah! Was this protein like made me for or something? Haha! So how do I do this, and what do I need?" "We! What do we need, and how do we do this! The process can only be done between two guys." "Oh? Oh, okay. So like, we are two. There is you and me. Hehe. Perfect! We can do it bro!" "Yes we can! Give me five!" Our hands clapped together surprisingly loudly. "Okay, now just do what I say!" "Okay bro." Jake did a salute. "I will do as you say! You are the commander now!" We both laughed. My smile disappeared quickly as I realized what I was about to do. The air in the room was even hotter now. It was almost thick. "Turn around!" "Sir, yes, Sir!" As Jake turned around, his hips and colossal ass bumped against my crotch. I could feel my dick twitch in reaction to the contact. "Sorry bout that dude. It's so tight in here. There isn't much space." "Yeah, I know bud. I'm almost pressed up against you. But this is good for what we need to do." "Oh?" "You will see." With Jake's back turned towards me, my gaze immediately darted to his glutes. His tight nylon shorts were hugging them perfectly. Oh my god! Am I finally about to do this? I have been resisting for way too long. There is just so much a guy like me can take. Jake turned his head around. He looked skeptically into my eyes, followed their trail, and looked back at his huge ass. "Dude! Are you staring at my butt?" Shit! He started laughing. "Well... I'm sorry, it's just...You do have an objectively nice ass bro." He laughed even harder now. "Hah! You know the guys from my team always like to joke and say I have a girls' ass!" Jake proudly arched his back, exposing his butt more. "Well, I do have to agree with them. It kind of looks like a girl's ass, yeah!" My breathing stopped for a second. I just grabbed Jake's ass cheeks and squeezed them. They felt perfect! Hard and yet so firm. His ass was made to be fucked! I took a long breath as my hands reluctantly left his muscles alone. "Hola! Someone's a bit touchy back there!" "Sorry dude, haha! I just had to check if it feels like a girl's ass, too haha!" "Haha, so does it feel like a real girl's ass?" "Ehe, yeah, it does." "Awesome! Haha! I will bet my girlfriend later that my ass is better than hers." Oh, I bet on that, too, Jake. I bet on that too. I could feel the blood starting to rush toward my dick. My crotch was just inches away from the grand prize at this point. Jake laughed, but I didn't feel like it. I was getting horny. "Speaking of Ass Jake..." His laughing stopped. "You need to drop your pants if you want to do this!" "Oh? I'd you say so. No problemo bro!" I watched him grab the fabric around his ass and slowly start exposing his bare bum. That bastard was not even wearing any underwear! Adrenaline filled my veins, and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion for a second. The view I'd wanted to see for so long was finally in front of me. I couldn't believe it. Jake's exposed ass! My straight roommate bare ass right in front of me! Accomplishment filled my soul. Jake's butt cheeks were sweat-covered, making his ass glisten beautifully. He has the most fuckable ass I have ever seen on a man or woman. At this point, the surrounding air was musty and stuffy. Fuck! When did my dick get so hard? It was about to burst out of my pants! "Someone's going commando today I see?" I tried to stay playful and calm. "Sir, Yes, sir!" "Okay, but for real man..." Jake said with his head turned towards the wall. "Why am I butt-ass naked right now?" He bounced on his feet while saying that, making his ass and thick thighs jiggle. Fuck! That almost made me drop to my knees and stick my head between his sweaty cheeks without warning. It was about time to show him what effect he had on me anyways. "Well, I'm sorry to say, but you must be for the protein intake." "Oh, okay. Why sorry bro? No worries man! I hope you are not disgusted by the view. Sorry bout that dude." Wow, he has no idea, does he? After all this time and hundreds of times, I looked at his butt. He didn't notice how badly I wanted to fuck him. How horny he made me. Even now! If he looked more closely, he would see the fucking tent in my pants! "Hey Jake! We live together, remember? You are my bro. I'm not disgusted by you. Come on now!" I had to come up with something generic quickly. Otherwise, I would have said: Man, you are making me so hard right now I'm about to stick my dick in you! It was time to get this done! "Okay, let's give you the protein and get this over with, shall we!? Follow what I will say now closely, got it?" "Ai Captain!" Sweat was falling down my forehead like crazy at this point. I was sweating all over at this point. My clothes which were already wet from the workout were becoming even wetter. "Okay, close your eyes, dude... Relax." I watched Jake's back muscles relax as I fumbled with my pants. They finally dropped to my knees, and my eager dick popped out. I grabbed it immediately and stroked it a few times. I could feel my legs shaking. Fuck, this is going to be good. "Okay, now, deep breaths! Breathe in and breathe out..." Jake did as I instructed. I almost let out a moan from stroking my dick behind his back. I could only imagine how tight his hole would feel around my dick. "You are going to feel some pressure! So stay calm and take a deep breath when I say so... okay?" "Yeah." "Keeping those eyes closed and muscles relaxed Jake?" "Mhm" He nodded. Damn! I was really about to do this! I pulled closer behind Jake and aimed my hard dick toward its prize. "Okay, take a deep breath now bro!" Jake's back arched slightly, and his butt touched my raw meat. Holy fuck, his ass looked even better and bigger now. I pressed myself against it. The head of my dick disappeared between Jake's inviting cheeks. "Relax!" I poked my meat at his sweaty asshole. Fuck he was so wet! It must be all the sweat from working out. And that's when I jammed my entire dick in with force. I let out a moan which echoed like a growl. "AH!!! What the... Woah! What-Ahhhh What is that?" "Hold it! GAH! Hold it bro!" My crotch slapped against Jake's ass as I buried myself deep inside him. "Ahhh! AU! Fuck dude!" He screamed, so I covered his mouth with my hand. The whole gym would hear us otherwise. "Shhh dude!" I started moving inside him. "It's all good! It's part of the procedure. You can take it." Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Jake's ass felt better than I could have imagined. Never have I fucked someone this thick and tight. "Relax bro! Uhm! This will make you big!" Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. Jake was moaning and whimpering into my hand, so I let go of his mouth. "FUCK DUDE! AH! ThatAH, shhhiiITT caught me off guard. AH! bro?" I continued fucking Jake recklessly. All those years of pent-up frustration. It was so intense. "You can do it Jake! Come on!" THRUST! "Come on!" "Ahhhh! Yes, YES! Uhhhhh! I can do it! I can do it!" Jake tried to hold on to something while I was fucking him into the wall, but there was nothing he could grab onto. I slowed down the pace of my fucking. I rammed into him so quickly that I didn't even get to feel his insides with my dick properly. I took a deep breath once I slowed down and twisted my dick around his virgin ass walls. "Wait! bro? Is that? Is that your dick in me!? Are you fucking me? What the fuck Alex!" "Yeah it's my dick. Sorry bout that, but it's the only way." His insides were so warm. I wanted to continue my fucking, but I had to give him a break for now and explain myself. "The only way?" "Yeah, so when I told you about that special protein. Well, it comes from my dick…" "Oh? So like your cum?" "Yes, exactly! Well, I need to deposit it for you. So basically, I need to stick my dick in you raw. Otherwise, it won't work." "Oooo! Now I understand why you said two dudes must do it together!" Can we get this over with? I just wanted to continue my fucking. "Wait! So you need to like cum in me, right?" "Y-yeah Bro." "Okay… Hm. But why did you ram me so hard just now? That shit hurt a little man! Couldn't you just, like, put the tip in?" "Oh, about that, yeah, sorry. But it has to be done that way. There is a special spot in your butt, and I have to find it. It can be real deep sometimes, so I need to go all the way. Besides, I still need to cum, right?" "Oh, okay. Yeah, I think I get it now dude… Sorry that you have to stick your dick in me for this. Must be disgusting." I wanted to tell him that I loved it and waited for this for months, but I didn't. "So? Do you still want to do it? I'm telling you, the gains will be insane!" "Hmm… Fuck it dude! We have already got this far. I can take it! I'm a real man, after all!" "Fuck yeah dude! A real man and a big one as that! Haha!" I caressed Jake's back and squeezed some of his muscles. He was a big fucker. I couldn't believe my dick was still inside him. Man, I wish I was as big as Jake. "Okay bro! Give me that protein!" Without waiting any longer, I started to move my dick in and outside Jake's straight ass. This shit felt too good! "There we go bro! Relax those muscles. It's really tight in there." "AH! O-Okay dude." I felt Jake's inside twitch and his muscles relaxed around my dick. Time to go to town on this dude! Smack! Smack! Smack! Jake started whimpering and grumping. "Shh dude! Someone is going to hear us." Jake turned his head and just looked at me without saying a word. His gaze was more focused now. He looked back at his ass before returning his gaze to me. My god, this situation was so surreal. I grabbed his full butt cheeks with both my hands. They were all sticky. I wasn't the only want sweating like hell at this moment. The stall had small openings, and the air inside wasn't distinguishable from a sauna. My insides were burning up from all the heat. Jake continued to look me in the eyes and on his butt as I fucked him. I was jamming into him full force. His head was bopping back and forth alongside his body. "Have you... Have you found the spot yet? Agh!" "Oh yeah the spot! Yes, Yes! I'm looking for it! I'm about to find it." "Good, mmhmm, Good..." "It's just a bit narrow in there, you know? Hard to find. I'm going to. I'm going to go all the way inside." I let my hands fall from his ass and pressed them against the wall next to Jake's face. My whole body was pressed against his. He was squeezed between me and the wall now and couldn't move. "UGH! That's deep bro!" "Yeah, I found the spot now. It's deep inside you." "Good! Can you put that protein in there, please?" "Yes, just..." Thrust! "Gotta!" Thrust! "Ahhhhh!" "Fuck you a bit down there!" Thrust! "DUDE!" "So I can cum! GAAAAAAH!" Spurt! And there it was! I started cumming like crazy. My whole body was trembling, and I screamed. I put my nose against Jake's neck and bit his compression shirt. The orgasm was beyond intense it felt like my heart had stopped. "FUUUUUUUCCK!" Spurt! "Shit, dude, are you cuming?" Spurt! "AHHHHYES!" Spurt! "Pfuh! Your ass felt nice man!" "Haha! Not to sound gay, dude, but... Your dick felt kinda nice too. Never felt something like that. Look! I even got hard. HAHA!" I was still experiencing an orgasm, but there was no cum left in my dick. "There you go. I put all my protein in you!" "Fuck, thanks dude!" "Gonna pull out now!" I let my dick flop out of his hole carefully. The sensation sent shivers through my body. As soon as my head slid out, Jake's hole opened, and cum started dripping out. "NO Dude! Close your hole! Squeeze! Squeeze tightly." "Woah, okay!" He tensed up, and I watched his hole squeeze shut. His asshole was covered in my cum now. "You have to keep it inside! We don't want to waste that protein after all this work." "Oh, you are right dude! Sorry bout that." "You can put your pants back on now." "Oh, right!" Jake put his shorts back on and turned around to look at me. His face was all red. "Holy shit Alex! That was insane! My butt feels so weird now. HaHa!" "Yeah it really was bro. But you know what will be even more insane? Once you wake up tomorrow, your muscles should grow by even a few inches! You will see significant changes, especially on your legs and ass, cause they are closer to the source of protein." "WOAH Dude! For real? I can't wait! HuaHA!" A bright smile appeared on Jake's face. I don't know why I was so confident about all the stuff that I told Jake. I believed it myself, but why? Suddenly a loud knocking sound scared both Jake and me! "Hey, what the hell is going on in there!?" The next day. I woke up to Jake violently shaking me awake. "Bro! Bro! Alex! Wake up!" I rubbed my eyes to focus on what I was seeing. "Look at this!" Jake was standing in front of me with only his underwear on. He was flexing and presenting his muscles. He was already a big guy, but now he was even bigger. And wow, those legs! They were massive! "It worked HAHA! Look at me! IT WORKED!" I couldn't believe it. My cum has actually made him bigger. All the nonsense I was spouting was true? No way! This had to be like a placebo effect or something. "Bro, I love you! I love you, man, haha! I could kiss you right now!" "Damn Jake! I am so happy for you. That's awesome. Fuck yeah dude!" "Fuck yeah!" Jake continued to flex his muscles. He gave his biceps a few kisses. Then he smacked his legs. "WOAH! And look at those legs dude! Haha! They are so thick. You better call me hulk boy from now on! GRUUAAAHHH!" He pretended to be hulk for a moment, which made us laugh. I still couldn't understand what had happened, but I was glad. Seeing Jake like this fulfilled me. I wanted to look like this too. Maybe I could try to eat my own cum later? Could that make me bigger too? "Fuck, you had the best idea ever bro! I will be grateful to you for life, man!" "My pleasure, dude. Literally, lol." We both smirked cause Jake knew what I meant. "Well, I'm sorry, dude, but I couldn't hold my excitement in... So I told some guys from our team about what happened. They wouldn't believe me, so I sent some pics, and now they are all shocked!" "What! So you told them I fucked you!?" "Well yeah, but it wasn't like a real fuck fuck you know? It was just like a little fuck 'cause I needed that protein." "Right... So how did they react?" "Bro! They can't stop hitting me up! They want to try it too. The protein, I mean." "Holly fuck man!" Oh my god! I think my chest is about to explode! What was happening? Did I actually die yesterday or something? This can't be real. "Well, that's not all of it, bro. I got so excited. I'm sorry. I basically told them you could give them all your protein. They want to try it later after practice today." Huuuuuhh? My brain was completely broken at this point. "Well, would that be okay with you bro?" "I... I guess so yeah." "HaHA! Great! I knew it!" Well, I didn't have to worry about if this was just a one-time thing then, and I can find out if Jake is not the only one this would work on. to be continued...

Eggs may be too good for you! This kwek-kwek stand is selling like hotcakes for reasons you might not guess By Leyla Joy Ganzon 25 Nov 2022 In San Cristobal, outside the gates of Sagrado Corazon University, a huge crowd gathers around a plain stand for a treat we all know and love: kwek-kwek—boiled eggs soaked in annatto-dyed batter, deep fried, and dipped in spiced vinegar. But this gastronomic familiarity alone does not justify the hype nor the awesome presence of its 300-pound muscle bound vendor Nicanor “Tay Kanor” Aguilar, 63 years old. Rather, for three pesos a piece, these kwek-kwek balls turn any male costumer into an instant bodybuilder. Each ball gives you 200 to 300 pounds of muscle and several inches to your height. It also burns excess fat, increases size of your genitalia, and amps up your sex drive. The growth occurs anytime within two hours. The catch? Only few of the eggs are potent, and they are needles in a haystack. Even Tay Kanor remains clueless about them. “If you’re lucky, you get big,” he says. “It’s not my place to say who grows and who doesn’t, so I leave it up to the Lord.” Whether he uses genetically modified eggs or some formula in the batter still baffles me. He will not disclose the “secret ingredient.” Tay Kanor’s face does not show his age, as he looks 20 years younger. A retired professor in the university, he is already familiar to the locals and has earned the nickname “Professor Muscle.” But these days, he has replaced his polo barongs for nothing but an apron that further accentuates his phenomenal physique. Everone can see how his bulging muscles twitch as he deep fries the balls. He recalls his days as a working student in the 1980s. He got a job at a construction site where he used go carry hollow blocks and buckets of water from one story to another. One day, he fell from the scaffolding and would have died if not for a “mysterious giant” who caught him in time. He tries to picture for us a 7-foot tall man who weighs half a ton. “He was beautiful,” he says. “He looked like an angel, if that makes sense.” This would have been the last image he saw before waking up in the hospital. After recovery, Tay Kanor searched for the man whom he would like to express his gratitude to. But he was nowhere to be found. Even the construction stopped. Presently, the site is has been devoured by a large banyan tree. Nevertheless, he realized from then on the importance of strength which inspired him to build his body and help others in need. He started going to the gym, and in a few months, had mysteriously gained his present physique. Tay Kanor only began selling a week ago. So far, three men have grown: Fernando Caoili, 34, a security guard in the university; Berkeley Ong, 21, a senior undergrad; and Savio Pareño, 43, our very own photojournalist. Pre-growth, Fernando stood at 5 feet and 6 inches tall and weighed 162 pounds. He used to hit the local gym with little to no progress. “You gotta eat and sleep a lot if you wanna grow,” he says, “and I couldn’t afford both. I have a wife and two boys who I must take care of. I usually just did it to feel good, just to say I did something productive.” Now, the guard boasts an impressive body that puts all Mr. Olympias to shame. He now stands at 6 feet and 6 inches, and weighs about 460 pounds of pure muscle. I found him wearing a customized uniform to fit his present build, short sleeved to free his bulging arms. The growth ripped his old uniform to pieces. He recounts how he was arguing with an “entitled kid” who wanted to enter the campus without an ID. Suddenly, he felt hot inside, and his body “longed to explode.” He filled up his uniform tightly in seconds. Then, he heard it rip, first in the sleeves and then in the back. His body “swelled in all directions.” The growth subsided about five minutes later. His clothes had fallen off, and he was completely naked and hard. The kid had already run away, having seen something bizarre and obscene. But Fernando’s embarrassment gave way to awe when he saw his new, pumped up body. “My beer buddies are now jealous of me. I’m big everywhere,” Fernando laughs, pointing to his bulging crotch. “I used to eat balut every time my wife and I do it. They say it’s an aphrodisiac. I don’t need it these days. I’m turned on all the time. I can go on forever until my wife gets too tired.” However, his improved vitality has been denying his neighbors a good night’s sleep. It caught the attention of the barrio captain who told Fernando to soundproof his house. He also suggested using condoms to avoid overpopulating the neighborhood. But Fernando was thankful for possessing more than enough energy to be a good father. “My kids love having a muscle man around the house,” he says. He would let each of them sit on his biceps while he flexes in front of the mirror every morning. “They call me Captain Barbell. Of course, I’m way bigger than the comic book character.” Meanwhile, the engineering student Berkeley used to be 5 feet and 4 inches tall and 142 pounds light. He was teased for being too squeamish for street food. “My mother won’t let me eat them growing up” he says. “She said I’d get hepatitis.” It was his roommate Timothy Hernandez who handed him a paper plate of four kwek-kwek balls. The varsity wrestler originally bought it for himself, but he could not stand Berkeley calling them “egg waffles.” He thought he was “too sheltered and needed to get his hands a little dirty.” “They were actually not bad when I tried them,” Berkeley says, “but I regretted wearing Valentino that day.” He was defending his thesis before the panelists when, like Fernando, he felt restless, and his whole body wanted to get off. Reports of a Fernando’s growth have already circulated the day before. Thus, when Berkeley he heard his shirt buttons pop to reveal his growing chest, he knew what was happening then and there. He knew those kwek-kwek balls had something to do with it. “It couldn’t have been anything else. It was my first time eating those balls and it was also my first time growing and c*mming all over the committee.” Berkeley now stands at 7 feet and 5 inches and weighs 560 pounds. He complains how he keeps bumping into things. He has to duck and turn sideways through doorways and has outgrown all his favorite clothes. The lack of designer stores nearby forced him to wear an oversized sleeveless hoodie his boyfriend, Elijah Laurel, bought from a thrift store. He had to comply or risk exhibiting his enormous, leaking member. Positively, Timothy now taunts the giant less frequently and is too busy getting his hands on those “egg waffles.” “I don’t see him often these days,” Berkeley says. “It’s a good thing. I can have the dorm room all to myself. I spend hours enjoying this body.” Moreover, he claims how the growth has given him a “vulgar kind of confidence” he never knew he has. “My mother called asking why I ate them. But I just told her I’m glad I did,” Berkeley says, flexing his 30-inch arms. “I’m not scared of anything anymore. I’m lining up to Tay Kanor’s tomorrow hoping I could get another one.” I was lucky enough to have witnessed the growth process from our very own camera man, Savio, who was skeptical of the whole event. “I thought it’s another one of those folk hysteria that keeps coming up in small towns,” he says. “People see what they wanted to see. There’s a surge of unemployment in San Cristobal after the factories closed down. Working-class men might have been looking for a manly figure to compensate for their emasculation.” As soon as our van stopped at the university, Savio rushed toward the kwek-kwek stand. He bought some precisely to disprove the whole thing. Nothing happened until we finished all the interviews. We were heading to the van ready to call it a day when he felt his stomach churn. He knew that instant that he would grow like mad. “Here!” he said, handing me the camera. “Take a photo of me.” His veins popped out, and his body blew up exponentially. His swelling muscles pushed his clothes in all directions. His clothes ripped. He widened his stance to accommodate his bigger limbs and increased height. He began taking up a huge space and forced the crowd to make way for him. Then, bulges appeared in random parts like malignant explosions underneath his skin. He was naked at this point. Savio’s growth continued for several minutes longer, past Fernando’s size, past Berkeley’s. Finally, it stopped to his current stats: 8 feet 4 inches tall and 878 pounds heavy. Savio swore that two of the balls he bought were potent. He described the growth as “a terrifying ecstasy, an eternal orgasm extended to even the non-phallic parts of my body.” But for all his intelligent words, he spent the whole afternoon watching the pictures I took with a big smug in his face. He turned into a celebrity in 15 minutes. He flexed and posed for the crowd who were eager to take photos with him. “They say I’m full of myself. I guess that’s true. I’m probably ten times my former self,” he laughs. “I still don’t believe any of this though. Maybe I will once I finally lift that van over my head.” I did not let him, of course. The doubled intensity of his growth sent his libido into an overdrive, as observed in his constantly erect and dripping member. Despite that, Savio refused to where any sort of clothing. “I’m the victim here. I’m swimming in testosterone and had to deal with a raging hard on. I can’t be bothered with social conventions.” There is another unconfirmed case of the growth, that of Carl Ylagan, an 18-year old year high school student who allegedly ate five to six of the potent kwek-kwek balls. He went missing for three days. The police are still investigating the matter. His father Mariano refused to disclose the details of the situation. Carl’s aunt Damiana tells us how Mariano often comes home drunk and vents out his anger to his son who “has failed to become a man that he should be.” Moreover, on some nights, the neighbors would often hear screaming coming from the Ylagan’s small home. But there was a different scream three nights ago‚ almost a deep, primordial laughter. The next morning, they found in Mariano’s backyard a destroyed chicken coop and a trail of giant footprints leading toward the forest. Already, rumors are spreading about a 15-foot kapre haunting the woods of a nearby town. Tay Kanor remains unbothered with the disturbances his kwek-kwek balls caused. He says that Fernando and Berkeley came to thank him yesterday. Savio hired him for his son’s 18th birthday. Mariano never filed a case, and even bought four bags of balls this morning. When asked about how he felt others being bigger than himself, he says: “I made myself strong enough to be useful. But others should be stronger than me. It’s my only way of giving back to that mysterious giant. And I like seeing these pumped up men around. They make me feel safe and happy. Everyone deserves a chance to be a hulking monster.” The kwek-kwek stand might remain in San Cristobal for three days more. Tay Kanor plans to go somewhere else where he can spread his gift. If you ever see in your town a muscle bound vendor selling these well-loved street treat, you might be in for the best ride of your life.

TWO ALFIE The second I whip off my vest and my freshly gym-pumped torso is on full display for everyone around me to see I feel the most incredible rush. Heads are turning. Jaws are dropping. I guess it’s not every day that you see a jacked competitive bodybuilder in the middle of a busy shopping area of Manchester city centre on a Saturday afternoon standing completely topless as his fully covered up but muscular mate holds up his phone ready to capture what will probably be my most liked Instagram video ever when it’s uploaded later. I won't lie. I kind of knew I’d get a reaction by doing this, but I didn’t quite expect people to be staring THIS much. It’s equal parts awesome and hilarious. And I’m about to give these poor, unsuspecting, Saturday afternoon shoppers something even more to stare at. My chest tightens and my heartbeat quickens as I pull down my gym shorts and peel them off. Until I’m just wearing my trainers, socks and my favourite pair of bright orange Next Level Posers branded trunks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Jason exclaims. He’s looking at me the way a disapproving parent or teacher would. But his expression can’t cover up the smile that’s trying to break through. I’ve been badgering Jason Fox for the past two weeks to film this video for me. Since I competed at the Johnny Hoxton Classic, where I came third in the short-arse category, beating guys much older than my twenty-four years. He finally gave in this morning, saying he wouldn't be held accountable if I ended up getting arrested. I didn't tell him I was gonna strip to my posing trunks though. I’ve been working with Jason Fox for over six months now, right before I started prepping for the Johnny Hoxton. He should really know me enough by now to know that I’d pull a stunt like this. These kinds of videos have become a bit of a trend with bodybuilders on Instagram over the past couple of years. Bodybuilders stripping off and posing in public places. Not many have done them wearing actual posing trunks though. Not only are these sorts of videos hugely popular but they’re always so fucking fun to watch. I’ve been itching to make my own for a while now. I wanted to see how much of a rush it was posing in public surrounded by a bunch of regular-sized innocent bystanders, most of whom probably know next to nothing about bodybuilding and have never been subjected to a bodybuilder, still shredded from his most recent competition, unashamedly flexing his abnormally sized muscle mass for everyone to see. And now I’m getting my answer. So far, it’s a massive fucking rush. And I haven’t even started flexing yet! Here we go. As I lift up my short, thick arms and treat Jason Fox and a dozen innocent members of the public to my bulging veiny biceps, a woman exclaims, “Wow!” as she walks past. With a fuck-off smirk, I bring my fists to my impressively small and tight waist and bring up my thick full pecs which gay lads on the Internet go crazy for in one of my favourite poses. The font lat spread. My pumped lats are peeking under my armpits, spreading out like little wings. I love flexing at the best of times. In the gym. In hotel rooms the morning before a show. On stage at competitions. But this feels like a new experience. The stares. The reactions. I feel like more of a freak than ever. No - I feel like a fucking king. As I throw my arms on either side of my head and crunch down on the cobbled abs that pop out of my slight turtle tummy roid gut that I’m secretly proud of, I can’t resist releasing a cocky, little grunt which I hope to God my phone camera picks up. I catch sight of a woman just standing still and gawping at me. She pulls down the shades covering her eyes and exclaims, “Are you serious?” To which I crunch a little harder and let out another grunt. Does that answer your question, love? “Oh my God!” she exclaims disapprovingly before she walks off. I’m smiling at Jason as he shakes his head and smirks back at me. I knew he secretly loved that reaction. I place my hands on my hips and squeeze down into my favourite pose - the most muscular. Or at least a variation of it. And here’s another. I bring my fists together and squeeze and beam into my phone placed in Jason’s hand. I look down to see my biceps bulging stretching the tight skin around them and my pecs tightening and popping off my chest. For the first time, I kind of wish I had a fellow bodybuilder posing next to me. I did suggest it to my flatmate, Danny, but he didn't seem impressed with the idea. That boy is way too concerned with being seen as “classy” and professional. I respect that about him. But a joint Alfie Winters and Danny King posing in public video with both of us wearing just our trunks and trainers would blow any similar Instagram videos out of the fucking water. Jason’s giving me a wide-eyed warning look that we should probably wrap things up before we push our luck and I get arrested for causing a disturbance by being in the middle of a busy high street with my arse hanging out of my inexplicably shiny orange trunks. I guess he’s probably right. But I'm not stopping before I hit one final pose. Bringing my arms and elbows up and to the sides, I bend down low and hulk out into a crab most muscular, pulling an animated face as if I’m roaring like an animal. Before I know what’s happening, some fairly big muscle dude in a tight grey t-shirt is right next to me, his arm pushed up against mine, squeezing out his own most muscular! And Jason is actually laughing. I can hear other laughter too from people watching. And now the random muscle dude is patting my back and shaking my hand. What a fucking way to finish the video. “Can you put your fucking shorts back on now, please?” Jason orders. “Okay, daddy.” Jason rolls his eyes. I can’t stop smiling as I put my grey cotton shorts back on over my trainers and cover up my quads and shiny orange trunks and then rather reluctantly put my vest back on. I’m still on a high. And people are STILL staring at me as they walk past. “What did it look like on video?” I ask Jason, reaching out my hand to get my phone back. “Like some cocky little attention-seeking shit scaring the locals in a pair of sparkly posers.” I laugh, then notice the time on my phone. “Shit. I better go.” “I hope your new flatmate knows what he’s getting into.” I say bye to my bodybuilding coach who has also become one of my best friends since we started working together and head for the tram, unable to resist having a sneaky look at the video Jason just filmed as I walk along the street. The video which I can now see I look fucking AWESOME in. I manage to get a better look when I’m sitting on the tram train. My physique for one looks amazing. I’m still shredded and tanned from the show a few weeks ago. The orange trunks - well, I already knew they’d look ace on camera. But it’s the setting that really makes the video special. And the looks from all the people drifting in and out of the shot behind me. People I didn’t even notice at the time. It’s fucking hilarious. I take my eyes off my phone and notice two of my fellow train passengers looking right at me. Two lads around Jason's age who I’m pretty sure are gay, with these almost awe-stricken looks on their faces. I guess it’s not every day you see a fairly tanned, short arsed bodybuilder with his pecs, shoulders and big arms bulging out of his vest on the tram. Who knows - maybe they're both secretly fans of shredded bodybuilders. Maybe they even follow me on Instagram. I momentarily fantasise about cheekily flexing my biceps for them but give them both a little smile instead, feeling weirdly and uncharacteristically shy, before going back to my phone to see the muscle dude in the grey t-shirt crashing the video and joining me in my crab most muscular. As soon as I’m home I crash on my bed and upload the video to Instagram, feeling both weirdly nervous and excited as it uploads. And now the post is up. And in come the likes. And the comments. People telling me they love it. That I’m a legend. Lots of crying with laughter emojis. Lots of fire symbols. Comments from lads I know at the gym. Some from non-Manchester based bodybuilders I’ve met at shows and expos. Some from people I’ve never even met. I wonder if my new flatmate has seen the video yet. I suddenly picture Nick Malone in the back of his parent’s car on the way into Manchester watching me flexing in my shiny orange Next Level Posers on Instagram. For some reason I kind of love the thought of Nick watching it. God knows what he’d actually think of it. Something tells me he’d be impressed. A comment comes in from @dannykingbodybuilder FOR FUCK’S SAKE I laugh out loud, then reply asking him if he’s looking forward to featuring in the next one. Then Jason Fox leaves a comment on the post too. Just for the record, I had NOTHING to do with this I smile into my phone and try and think of an appropriate and witty response that includes calling him daddy when I notice the red notification on the app telling me I have a DM. I click on the icon, expecting to see a message from someone I know. But it’s not. For a second my heart momentarily stops. Because the torso in the picture is of American super freak Mitchell “The Machine” Murray whose poster I have stuck to the wall in the living room. And then I realise it’s just someone with the username shredded_muscle_lover97 using his picture. Which makes a lot more sense than me getting a message from one of the most famous professional bodybuilders on the planet. I’m pretty sure I recognise the username. They’ve probably commented on my posts before. I go into the message. He’s forwarded the video of me posing in the busy Manchester shopping area. Then he’s written another message underneath. You really said, “Fuck you, Mother Nature. I’m going to be a bronzed God in shiny orange trunks.” And now I’m laughing to myself. It’s such a funny message. Most of the DM’s I get from anonymous profiles and muscle fans are just guys asking to buy my posing trunks. No one’s ever just randomly messaged me with a funny comment before. I also really respect this guy for having the balls to message me something like that. Most bodybuilders would probably ignore it, or maybe just give it a like and leave it at that. But I think this guy deserves a bit more than that. I type a response. Haha - that made me laugh! Not just in ORANGE trunks though! But something stops me from hitting send. It just feels a bit … much. Risky even. So I delete the part about the trunks and just send the first part. It doesn’t really feel like a good enough reply, but it’s something. Three dots appear to tell me shredded_muscle_lover97 is typing a reply. FYI: Every bloke who walked past you in that video is probably now gay. Just saying! And now I’m laughing again. But before I can think of a reply, the buzzer from downstairs rings through the flat and pulls me from my thoughts. I close down the app and lock my phone. I wasn’t expecting the new flatmate this early. I don’t think I’m appropriately dressed to meet parents. Then again, Nick Malone is a bodybuilder (albeit smaller and not as advanced as me and Danny are) so maybe his mum and dad are accustomed to seeing juiced-up muscle lads with abnormally developed pecs and biceps bulging out of tight vests like the one I’m currently wearing. Maybe Mr Malone is even a bodybuilder himself? A bigger, balder, scarier version of his son? But still, I jump off my bed and grab my blue hoodie with The Muscle Factory printed on the front to cover up just in case. There isn’t really time to change out of my shorts and put some trousers on instead so Nick’s parents will just have to cope with the image of my bulging calves. Hmmm. Maybe I should show them my latest Instagram video. I buzz them into the building and wait at the door like I did when Nick came to view the room last weekend. Before I know it, my new flatmate is in view with his parents who definitely aren’t bodybuilders in toe. His modest sized biceps are on show in the white t-shirt he’s wearing as he hugs a big box. He doesn’t look as relaxed as he did last time. In fact, he looks a little embarrassed. Or maybe he’s just nervous. He’s got his geeky specs on like last time. I wonder whether he wears them on stage and resist the urge to smirk. “All right?” he says as he approaches the door. “This is, ummm … my mum and dad,” he says awkwardly. Yeah - he’s definitely embarrassed. “Hello, Alfie,” Mrs Malone says a little cautiously, looking me up and down. “Hmmm. Well, I’m glad you’re not TOO big!” A little laugh escapes my lips. “Mum!” Nick groans, his cheeks going red. “Thanks! I think …” I reply, as I stand aside to let Nick and his parents into the flat. “That’s not really what a bodybuilder wants to hear!” Nick tells his mum as they all file in. Nick takes his mum to show her his new room while I stand in the kitchen with his very average-looking dad, who doesn’t look like he’s ever lifted a weight in his life and starts asking me about being a personal trainer. I can see Nick in his dad a little bit, but not much. He definitely didn't get his height from him. Or Nick’s blonde hair that he styles up at the front. I’m not sure where Nick’s chipmunk cheeks come from either. When Nick and his mum come back into the living room, his mum spots the big poster of Mitchell “The Machine” Murray squeezing out a terrifying most muscular on the wall and tuts loudly. “Nick!” she scowls as if he’s responsible for the display, which makes me laugh. “Why are you having a go at me?” he protests. “It’s not MY poster!” “That’s our other flatmate,” I joke. Nick looks at me and his lips curl into a shy little grin. Mrs Malone gasps. “It’s not, is it?” She looks from Nick to me and clocks that we’re joking. She gives me a proper mum stare then smiles along with us. I only just met her but I already really like Nick’s mum. Both of his parents seem really nice and normal. I think I sort of knew they’d be like that. “Frank - maybe we should put that poster up in our living room,” his mum suggests. “It might give your mum a heart attack. Finally finish the old crone off.” I help bring the rest of Nick’s stuff up after his mum tells me to “put those big leg muscles to good use” (ha - love it). When his parents are finally saying their goodbye’s I manage to take a sneaky look at Instagram. A few more comments have come in. A ton more likes. I can already tell this is going to be a popular post. I don't have any new messages, but I open up my conversation with that shredded_muscle_lover97 guy and smile again at his last message about turning every guy who walked past me gay. I suddenly picture him (whoever he is) eagerly checking his phone to see if I’ve replied and then feeling disappointed that I haven’t. Is that thought kind of arrogant? I smile and feel an unexpected warmth at the image of Nick hugging his mum. Then I feel an unexpected pang of jealousy when he also hugs his very normal dad before they leave. A perfect little family unit. “So … your mum’s a bit of a legend.” Nick smirks and rolls his eyes as he sits down on the sofa next to mine. “That’s one word for her!” “I’m a bit confused though. Why have we got about a month's worth of food in the fridge?” “Ummm … she kind of insisted on doing a big shop yesterday.” I grin at my new flatmate, resisting the urge to tell him how cute I think that is. “So there’s a Tesco’s in Leicester with half of its shelves empty?” Nick grins. Then his facial expression changes as he curiously looks to the door. “Is, ummm … Danny not around?” He seems kind of nervous to ask the question. Maybe he finds Danny a little intimidating. I can understand why Nick might feel like that. I shake my head. “Nah. He’s training. He’s six weeks out from The Tiger Classic North West.” He nods and bites his lip, before checking his phone again briefly. “I was half expecting your dad to be a bodybuilder.” Nick smirks. “Mmmm. My parents don’t really … get the whole bodybuilding thing.” “Yeah - I kinda got that impression. I take it you didn’t have posters of bodybuilders on your bedroom wall back home then?” “Nope!” Nick says, smiling. His phone pings and this look of hope spreads across his face. I get the impression he’s waiting for someone to text him back. His face drops when he looks at the screen and he groans. “It’s my mum. She’s telling me not to go TOO crazy with the bodybuilding stuff. Fuck’s sake.” I smile at Nick. “Hang on - she’s not gonna blame ME when you get all huge and shredded is she?” Nick gives me this sort of awkward, embarrassed smile in response. Like he REALLY likes the idea of getting huge and shredded. It’s pretty adorable if I’m being honest. “What about your parents?” he asks me. “Are they okay with the bodybuilding thing?” I nod. “Yeah. I think they were both a bit worried at first. But they kind of just let me get on with it. Mum’s really supportive now, actually.” “Your dad’s not a bodybuilder then?” I bark out a laugh before I can stop myself. “No. My dad’s not a bodybuilder. I don’t think he’s ever seen the inside of a gym in his life.” Nick gives me a little smile in response. “When was your last competition?” I ask him, looking at his impressively meaty arms. He’s a pretty lean lad, but my new flatmate’s definitely packing some muscle. He doesn’t look as tanned as he did last week but his current skin colour and the thinness of his skin are pretty big giveaways that he hasn’t long competed. “Ummm. Two weekends ago?” Nick says, looking a little sheepish for some reason. “Mate - same! I did the Johhny Hoxton Classic.” Nick’s mouth curls into this excited grin. There’s something so endearing about Nick. He has this sort of sweet, naive quality about him. “Mine was just a local show. Back home in Leicester.” “Do you have, like, a second Instagram?” Nick looks confused and shakes his head. “I didn’t know if you had, like, a bodybuilding one. I don’t remember seeing any comp pics on your page when you DM’ed about the room.” “Oh no. I, erm … just didn’t post any,” he says, looking even more sheepish. “How come?” I suddenly get the feeling that I might be stepping over a line here. I decide to make a joke. “Worried about what mummy would say if she saw them?” I say, in a teasing voice. Nick bashfully smiles and rolls his eyes. “Ummm. Not really her. Just, I dunno … people in general.” I find myself smiling. This guy is something else. “Okay, well … you need to get over that! If you’re gonna be a shredded freak, you gotta stop worrying about what people think of you.” He rolls his tongue around the inside of his mouth, nods and gives a shy little smile. “So … when’s your first visit to The Muscle Factory gonna be?” “Ummm … I dunno!” he says, looking slightly flustered. “You’re not nervous, are you?” Nick winces. “Ummm. A little? I think it’s just … new gym. I don't really know anyone, etc.” I smile at him. “I get it! It’s a really friendly gym though. Well … I mean, if you wanna come with me?” This hopeful look spreads across Nick’s face and my chest does something weird. “Ummm. Yeah? If you don't mind.” I laugh. “Course not. I’ll introduce you to some of the lads. You’ll be fine.” Nick nods. He looks like he can barely keep the smile off his face. I smile and check my phone again, seeing all the new comments and likes that have flooded in since the last time I checked. Then I go into my DM’s and look again at the last message sent from shredded_muscle_lover97. I feel like the moment’s gone to send a reply, so I just hit the heart icon instead to tell him I liked the message. I lock my phone and put it in the pocket of my shorts. “Oh - I should warn you, though. There IS a small initiation,” I tease Nick. “If you wanna be a Muscle Factory boy.” Nick furrows his eyebrows at me. “Right …” he says, smirking slightly but looking nervous. “Oh - I can't tell you what it is. You’ll just have to trust me.” Nick narrows his eyes at me, suspiciously. I just continue to give him a teasing, ominous smirk. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy living with sweet, naive Nick Malone.

Chapter 2! I couldn't sleep all night. When I woke up the next day, my hands started sweating immediately. The thought of my teammates confronting me about what I did with Jake was impossible to comprehend. I told Jake I was dying of nervousness; he just brushed it off and told me not to worry. This really wasn't a big deal for him, huh? Before we headed out to practice, Jake told me how excited everyone must be to talk with me about the special protein. His enthusiasm didn't help me relax. It only made my heart pound harder. I felt petrified as I stepped into the locker room. I just stood in front of the crowd of my teammates, who all stopped what they were doing and looked at me. Everyone started cheering and greeting me, some guys slapping their heavy bodies against mine as a welcoming gesture. Their weight threw me into the center of the locker room. Everyone seemed to await to hear me talk about my newfound secret eagerly. Jake had told them what he'd discovered thanks to my "unique" protein, and now they wanted more information from me. Adam was the first to speak. He was on our offensive line and considered the alpha among us guys. He has garnered his status thanks to his big body. Adam looked like he had just stepped off a fitness magazine cover for bodybuilders. He's got a squared jaw, broad shoulders, and ripped muscles that stretch his clothes to their limits. His gaze suggests confidence and power, informing everyone in the room who's the top dog here. Adam's muscles are so big they almost defy the laws of human physiology. It's hard to believe that he achieved such an incredible physique without undergoing some serious scientific experimentation...or maybe it's not so hard to believe when you consider how much time and effort he must have spent in the gym, coupled with regular doses of anabolic steroids. All that hard work paid off for him, though. His chiseled chest, bulging biceps, and tree-trunk thighs are a testament to his dedication and commitment. With his bulging muscles and steely stare, Adam is not someone I would ever mess with. But his intimidating appearance fools people. Behind that tough exterior lies a surprisingly nice and joyous guy, but maybe this is another case like Jake's where Adam's stupidity somehow makes him a better person. The years of steroid use have caused him to lose many brain cells. It surprised me that Adam seemed to be the most eager to learn about my special protein considering he had a body that everyone would say was perfect, but heck, maybe he was desperate to replace his steroid use with a safer option. The atmosphere was tense, but everyone was also hopeful, convinced that I had some magical solution to improve their performance on the field. Adam's voice made everyone go quiet. "So Alex! Jake has told us about natural protein intake. Looking at him, he's gotten more buff than he was two days ago, which is incredible. Are you guys fucking with us, or are you for real with this?" I was shaking nervously. "No, ehm. We're not fucking with you guys. Shit, I told Jake not to spill it out to everyone 'cause I just discovered this method." Adam crossed his arms and raised his right eyebrow. "So? How the fuck does this work exactly." As I explained my newfound protein injection method, you could almost hear a pin drop in the room. Everyone was silent and hanging off my every word; it seemed like each person in the room wanted to gain an advantage over their opponents with knowledge about this technique. As I explained, I thought someone would beat me up any second for sounding like a crazy pervert, but everyone looked serious and interested in what I had to say. I explained how I had to put my raw dick inside Jake to give him the protein and felt my dick twitch. Some guys gasped while others looked away from me with hurt expressions. Adam's gaze pierced my eyes as I explained how Jake took my cum in his ass, and his legs grew enormous the next day. This situation was beyond comprehensible, but my dick didn't seem to mind. I had to cover up the tent in my pants with both hands. Jake was nodding the whole time and acted like a hype man for my presentation. He didn't seem embarrassed about what I was saying—more than that, he seemed proud, and I could see guys give him stares that almost looked envious. Everyone here must be as gullible and stupid as Jake was, but at the same time, what I was saying was actually the truth! My heart raced as I continued talking about my discovery, starting to sell it with enthusiasm and energy. I could see the spark of hope appear in the pair of eyes of my teammates and felt a sense of pride as I saw their faces light up with anticipation. As I was finishing my speech, Jake took the final word for some reason. "And I call it…. a brotein shake! Are you guys ready to try it?!" I wanted to curl up and facepalm myself hearing those words, but my hands still had to cover my bricked-up dick. To my surprise, the whole locker room started cheering. After what seemed like an eternity of me talking, everyone seemed ready to try this secret new method and see if it would work for them. Some guys even came over to me and wanted to shake my hand in congratulations. One hand had to leave my crotch so I could shake hands with them. I was surprised that these guys were so desperate for a fix of steroid-like protein, even with the concept of injection being so gay! Adam shoved some guys away from me and announced himself again. "For everyone thinking they can jump on this method first, you are wrong! Right after practice, I will be the first to try Alex's brotein. You can wait for me to be finished or get your fix somewhere else.!" Fuck was I hearing right? Did Adam, the top dawg, announce that he was about to take my dick in front of the whole team?! Maybe I did die, and this was heaven? Our youngest player Julian stepped out of the crowd and raised his arm slightly. He was the smallest and skinniest of the bunch but still athletic. He might've been less intimidating than the other guys, but he was the only intelligent one here. He spoke softly. "But… How are you already so sure it will work?" Adam turned to him and scuffled. He didn't take his point as a valid argument but rather an opposition to his authority. While Julian was questioning me here, Adam took it personally instead because he already believed what Jake and I had to say. He pressed his finger against Julian's chest and made him back up to his locker. "Well, I will see if it works, smarty pants. But who are you to question our teammates and top players like Jake!" Adam turned around to the whole team again. "Well, everyone! As I said already! I will take Alex's protein after practice, and as the strongest among you, I will sacrifice myself to be the test subject and see if the method works again. Looking at our dude Jake over here, I have no doubts about that." Everyone started applauding Adam's words, and some guys went over to squeeze Jake's huge new leg muscles. He flexed them for his teammates proudly. Suddenly, I couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive about the whole thing - after all, I had no way of knowing whether this would be successful again. But at least everyone knew about my special cum; it was in the open now! I still needed time to process all this. I was scared but also incredibly giddy, knowing what would happen. We wrapped things up with a round of high-fives and headed out to the practice field, this time with renewed enthusiasm and excitement. Before I entered the field, Adam came up behind me and whispered into my ear. "I believe you and Jake, but for your own sake, this better work for 100% again." He made my skin crawl with the comment, slapped my ass, and ran off on the field. During practice, I observed my friends enthusiastically discuss the brotein method. Some guys approached me during training and asked me how it all worked again. Some didn't want to believe that it could only be done by me injecting them with cum, but they were considering the method either way. I had to reassure some guys that it wasn't gay at all. I was applying the same logic that Jake used in my explanation, saying none of us are gay, we are not doing it for pleasure, and it's just a procedure done thanks to a bro helping out. Maybe I still needed to discover a miracle cure-all solution or something like that. Still, at least now, my teammates seemed hopeful about a substitute for anabolic steroids, which would be safer for everyone. The thought of me supplying them with this new way made me feel pretty proud; if it worked out well, they'd owe it all to me! I would feel bad if they knew about my perverted motivations, but they seemed to look at it in a platonic and almost professional way. So I still needed to figure out exactly how things would turn out and how they would react. But the thought that I knew it was all legit in the end was reassuring. Otherwise, I would've felt like a criminal. The practice ended, and everyone was heading to the locker rooms. Jake stopped me for a sec, telling me how pumped he was for everyone to discover what he did and hoped that they would all go through with it. For me, he made it sound like he'd wish the whole team to get a shot of my jizz. The overwhelming thought of that made my head dizzy. I didn't even have that much cum in my balls! With renewed enthusiasm, Jake and I made our way to the locker room, ready to face the wave of excitement awaiting us. As soon as we walked into the locker room, we were bombarded with questions from our teammates. They wanted to know every last detail about the new brotein method. It was like seeing a room full of hungry puppies ready for their first meal after a long day on the field. I was confused because I had already told them about the method, but they still wanted to know more. It was like they thought I had this life-changing skill, and they needed to learn how to acquire it as well. Well, technically, I had developed a skill like that. Some guys asked me how my cum turned into steroids, and I made something up that it was a genetic mutation. "Holly shit, bro! So it's basically like a gift from god!" Guys started to shout and cheer in excitement. It felt great that my friends were so excited and interested in me, but I was overwhelmed at the same time. Everyone talked to me from left to right while I changed into more regular clothes and started getting my things. Adam roared out with the loudest shout ever, and everyone turned quiet and looked at him. "Okay, enough, guys, calm down!" Adam wasn't wearing his whole set of football uniform anymore. Instead, he wore extended knee-high white socks, grey compression underwear, and our team's signature red polyester shirt. Suddenly, he just grabbed my hand and guided me to the toilets. Guys were hollering at us as we left. I trailed behind Adam's big frame, and we entered a stall. He turned around and faced me, his big pecs practically in my face. The enclosed space made the interaction feel very intimate. "Okay dude, let's get this started." Adam turned around, brushing against me with his colossal body. There really wasn't much space here. He primed himself up on the toilet seat and bent his legs. I watched as his enormous backside presented itself to me perfectly. A small, lengthy sweat stain appeared on his compression underwear as the fabric stretched. I had this big alpha stud put himself in such a compromising position for me! The view was so unbelievable I wanted to stare at Adam forever. I pulled out my phone incredibly quickly, snapped a pic of Adam bending over on the toilet, and stowed the phone back again. Adam had his face positioned towards the wall. I was staring at him in awe. He had tree trunks, glutes of steel, and a back so wide it could be used as an ironing board. Adam's posture commanded attention in general, but this was next level. I gasped as he started to pull down his underwear and exposed a perfect bubble butt. Holly fuck, he was shaven clean! Bodybuilding reasons? Heck, I had no idea. Our top dawg player was exposing his hard work for me to see. His ass made my mouth water. Adam was a sort of muse for me when it came to motivation about sculpting my body, and the thought of him bent over in front of me made me die inside. Guys, we're banging at the stall door and shouting in a chant. This jolted me back to my senses from a muscle-ass-induced trance. I watched Adam's body tense up as he roared. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR! IM NOT PLAYING RIGHT NOW!" His voice made me shake, and my ears hurt, but the banging stopped immediately, and I could hear the footsteps of guys leaving the bathroom. "Sorry bout them Alex. Can we get to work? I don't want to stay like this forever." I swallowed hard. "Yeah sure, let's ehh do it." I stepped closer to Adam's exposed backside. In any other situation, I would've never dared to do what I was about to do, but this wasn't an ordinary situation. Was I really about to fuck this Adonis of a man in the ass? I almost hesitantly put my hand against Adam's right mound of ass cheek. It felt so warm and firm. I let out a gasp. How was this real? Even photoshopped asses on Instagram don't look this good! "Okay, so you just have to bust a nut in my butt, right?" "Eugh! Yeah, bro." I tried to act cool. "Okay then, just quickly get your dick in my ass, and let's get this over with." "Right!" Adam captivated me so much that I hadn't even noticed how hard my dick was. I let it jet out of my pants as I pulled them off. Adam didn't know much about how anal sex worked when you're receiving. He probably didn't think he needed lube. I didn't want this to be unpleasant for him, so I put as much of my spit around my dick as possible. "Dude! What are you waiting for?" "On it! On it!" I clumsily grabbed Adam's gigantic ass and positioned my spit-covered pole against his pink virgin hole. It looked hella tight. He grunted as he felt the tip of my head against his puckered skin. The sound he made was more akin to a beast than a man. My dick started twitching like crazy, and I started panting because the thought of what was about to happen hit me. This huge alpha stud had his straight hole presented to me, and my wet dick was about to enter his butt! "I'm going in Adam!" My voice sounded more high-pitched than usual, probably because of my nervousness. Adam took a firmer hold of the toilet seat. I watched his tight hole twitch once. He grunted continuously even though my dick was still only pressed against his muscle ass. He was getting nervous. I grabbed my dick and started probing at his hole. Adam was shut tight. I pressed in harder, basically knocking at his hole now. Here I was, trying to break into the virgin ass of this stud. "You… You need to relax bro." Adam was grunting more intensely now. "UGH! GHH! I'm trying man!" I started massaging Adam's divine ass in a circular motion. "Shhh! Calm down. Relax." His grunts became lighter, and I felt his hole loosen up. "That's it. Shhh!" That's when I took my chance, stood on my toes, and pressed my dick downwards into Adam. My head popped his anal cherry. The heavy grunting from earlier returned, but now Adam was incredibly loud. “GGAAAHH! OUUAGH! OUUAGH!” Shit, it wasn't even halfway yet. I started pressing into him harder and felt his anal walls stretch slowly. Damn, this must've been the tightest ass I've ever fucked! Mike was quiet for a second and threw his body against the toilet seat. I took the opportunity and pressed my whole body into him. My entire dick finally slipped into his manpussy. SQUELCH! I watched as Adam's eyes opened up in shock. His mouth was wide agape, but no sound came out of it until... "OOOOOHHHHHHHHH!" "I'm in!" He began breathing like a maniac and seemed completely out of it. I decided not to prolong this for longer and just started fucking away. As I slammed into his warm inside, I watched his mouth open wide. His breathing stopped. Slam! Slam! Slam! After several slams, he started breathing again and let out the loudest grunt I'd heard. This was too fucking erotic for me to stop. Damn, his ass felt so good. Slam! Thrust! Thrust! Adam was just grunting and panting like crazy. Sweat ran down my forehead, falling onto Adam's red polyester shirt. He was hyperventilating at this point. Slam! Slam! Slam! Seeing my raw dick buried inside this virgin stud's ass was beautiful. Even though I was picking up my thrusts, I managed to pull my phone out again and hit record. I watched Adam's round cheeks flop around on the screen with each thrust of my dick. His ass looked more like a fuck balloon at this point. After a couple of seconds, the phone was too distracting, and I put it away again. The pleasure inside my dick and body was so intense now that nothing could slow me down or stop me from cumming inside Adam's ass! I started fucking like an animal. My gaze was transfixed on Adam's behind. It was an impressive sight to behold. Adam was still grunting but more steadily now. "Fuck Bro! You're gonna make me bust any second!" As my words left my mouth, I noticed Adam's hole twitching around my dick. "You have such a big butt bro!" And again, immediately after I talked dirty, Adam's hole twitched. Was he into this? "You are taking my big dick, so UGH! So well bro!" There it was again! My mind was only filled with lust at that point, and I started maniacally fucking him with zero regards. "Take it in your huge butt! Take my big gay dick in your manly cunt." That's when Adam's whole body started spasming, and I watched him cum all over the toilet seat. My mind was blown, and I immediately started cumming like crazy as a switch of realization broke loose in me. "I'm busting dude! I'm nutting in you!" Shot after shot of my super protein plugged into Adam as his whole body twitched from his orgasm. I let myself fall against his body and completely emptied my balls. We stayed like this for some time, but Adam started to wobble and lose his grip on the toilet, so I let him stand up. My dick flopped out of his hole, and he immediately started oozing cum. I watched as some of my cum dripped to the floor. Adam turned around, and I saw his sock-covered feet step into the cum splattered on the ground. He was still breathing heavily. I looked up at him. Although my whole body was overcome in bliss, an immediate surge of danger traveled through my body. Was he about to hit me? But instead, Adam pulled up his underwear and started avoiding my gaze. He scratched his head and started coughing. "Ehm. Thanks for the brotein, dude. I Ehm. I will let the guys, and you know if the injection worked." He scratched his butt. Then he brushed past me, slammed my body against the bathroom wall, and left. I stood there baffled, still out of breath, and with my leaking dick in the air. My breathing steadied, and I listened to what was happening behind the bathroom walls. It seemed quiet. As I left the bathroom, I noticed the locker room was empty. Everyone left, including Adam. He must've rushed out of here. - I was lying on my bed, exhausted from practice. Jake was lying in his bed beside mine, still discussing the new protein method we revealed during training. "Man, that was so cool of you," he said as he excitedly punched his fist into the air. "I mean. All those guys were really paying attention when you talked. And Adam! Wow, Adam, he was fixated on you!" I could tell Jake was trying to impress me, but I just smiled and nodded. He continued talking about the different scenarios of guys coming up to us and asking us about the method and how excited he was to go to practice again. As his enthusiasm persisted, I couldn't help but laugh at his dumb jockiness. Despite all of it, though, I knew that deep down, he admired me for having the guts to share my secret with everyone else despite being scared of how they might react. Jake did not calm down, and I was silent until I finally said goodnight and drifted off to sleep. His constant talking annoyed me, but I couldn't be mad at Jake now. I knew that no matter what happened, I could always rely on Jake to be there for me when I needed him in this insane new journey laid down for me. As I tried drifting to sleep, I was constantly awoken by Jake's talking or rustling. After a while, he got quiet, and I thought I'd finally be able to fall asleep. My eyes were closed, but I heard movement in the room. I opened them slightly and tried to discover what was happening in the darkness surrounding me. That's when I saw Jake's impressive silhouette next to my bed. His frame was bopping up and down, and he looked like he was trying to keep his excitement contained, but it seemed like the energy was just too much for him. I observed as the dark frame slowly got into position closer to my body, barely managing not to make any noise while still visibly vibrating with anticipation. What the actual fuck was Jake doing!? I braced myself for him to prank me or something and decided to keep a stone-cold posture. Jake's hand slowly moved over my blanket as he pulled it off me. My body almost started shaking. His warm hands drifted to my underwear, and I couldn't believe he was starting to pull them off slowly. He fumbled with my underwear for what felt like 20 minutes. I bucked my hips up slightly to help him pull them off. Jake still thought I was asleep. Finally, Jake pulled off my underwear, and I could feel the air around my exposed crotch. Cool air was soon replaced with the hot rhythmic breath from Jake's mouth. I almost gasped as I felt a hot, warm mouth enclose my dick. That's when the suction started. Although my dick felt good, it didn't feel like someone was giving me a good blowjob. It felt like someone was trying to suck on my dick like a straw, desperate to get something out of it. My mind raced with thoughts as to how the fuck this scenario was happening, and I felt my dick grow like a mast inside the wet mouth. That's when I gasped aloud. It took a few moments before Jake realized I had woken up and was watching him. I could make him out better now as my eyes got used to the darkness. Jake's eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment as he met my questioning gaze. However, his enthusiasm for sucking my dick hadn't diminished despite the awkwardness, so I decided to pump his face with my erect pole. While fucking his face, I blurted out, confused but overtaken with lust. "What the fuck are you doing Jake?!" Jake let my dick flop out of his mouth sloppily. He caught my wet stick with his right hand. "Sorry, Bro I. I thought you were asleep, and… Just earlier, I thought. Hey, what if I get a brotein injection in my mouth? That would make my upper body grow for sure! So. So I asked you if I could try it, but you didn't reply. Then I asked you again and told you if you didn't reply, that would mean yes. You didn't reply, so I said I must try it." Jake was insane, but heck, I didn't care about this explanation at all. I was happy he found an excuse to get on my dick, but his reason was still shocking. "I got so excited thinking about how I'd make up with a bigger upper body tomorrow! And then I could show it to the guys and explain the method! That would be sick, Alex, and make them jealous for sure!" As Jake continued to blabber on, my wet dick was being squeezed tightly by his right hand. "Ouch, dude!" A look of concern crossed Jake's face. "Oh, oh! Sorry, dude." "It's okay. Just put it in your mouth, please, and let's get this over with. I want to go back to sleep." I lied. "Yeah, sorry. Sure." I just stayed motionless and let Jake do all the work. The sensation of his hot mouth around my dick came back. "Fuck Jake! Just bop your hot up and down. Imagine you're sucking a big lollipop and need to get it all in your mouth." Jake murmured around my dick, the sensation making a tingle run through my dick. "Mmwwwhhmhhhmm!" Jake may not have been the best at sucking dick, but his enthusiasm and energy stayed constant throughout his attempt. After a couple of bops, Jake pulled my dick out of his mouth and started gasping. I wanted to shove my dick right back into his mouthpussy. "Like this Alex?" "Yeah, Jake! You are! Doing so! Good. It feels good!" Jake made a surprised yet impressed face and grimaced a bit. "Oh really?!" He bounced my dick around with his hand and lowered his mouth where it belonged again. He pressed the head of my dick against his lips and smiled. "Why does it make me feel weirdly proud that you liked it bro? Haha! This is crazy! I'd never think I'd suck a dude's penis. Let alone a penis this big. It kinda feels like a warm and hard banana in my mouth." Jake continued to talk while my dick was pulsing. My head was pressed against his mouth, waiting to be taken back in. "But anyways! It's not even gay, is it? Cause like we are Bros, and I just need the brotein. Plus, I'm wearing socks. This is sick dude. It's like regular rules don't apply to… UAWHMMM! UHM! UMMFH!" I interrupted Jake's outrageous blabbering by thrusting my dick into his face. I grabbed his hair and started face fucking him. GURP! GULP! GURP! "Yeah, Jake! This is not gay at all! And it feels so good!" My hips were humping into his face furiously. "MMHHHMMM! MMHHMM!" "What are you saying bro?!" Hump! Hump! Hump! "MMWHH! Bhhmm! mww! mmYYWY? BYW…MHHM?" Was Jake seriously trying to talk while I was fucking his mouth? I almost laughed but got distracted by how incredibly the vibrations of his muffling made my dick feel. I didn't want him to stop. "What was that bro?!" Thrust! Hump! "OuGH! Hmm! Hm..Hm. WYF! Byf! OHHMF." I could feel the climax in my balls approaching, so I started to face fuck Jake even harder. THRUST! THRUST! "Come again bro?!" Jake's mouth and my dick got all slimy due to all his spit. My dick was sliding in and out of his throat so easily now. "BHHMMWW??!" "You're Right! Yeah, you're right." That's when I couldn't take it anymore. The sensations around my dick were becoming too much to handle. I started shooting my warm cum and held Jake's face close to my dick. "AH! GAH! Remember! Remember to swallow all the brotein dude! FUCK!" "MMMMHHHHMMMMH!" Jake was focused on keeping his mouth enclosed around my shaft, but he still managed to give me a thumbs up as I pumped shot after shot of my cum into his throat. I watched his throat contract as he hungrily swallowed my shots one after another. He might've been a first-timer to this, but he was hungry as fuck for the brotein, I guess. My dick stopped twitching, and I let it slide out of his mouth. Jake almost didn't let it go and had his mouth sucked up hard on it. Finally, he let it flop out of his mouth. He looked up at me with big eyes and red cheeks. "DAMN, Alex! That was quick. Could you understand what I was saying?" Wait, that was his concern right now?! "Suuuure dude." "Fuck that's awesome! I can talk with my whole mouth stuffed with a boner! HAH!" I gave Jake's shoulders a couple of proud claps. "You took all the brotein right?" Jake swallowed hard. "Yes. I did. That was a bunch man. Maybe it's going to make me even bigger than huge!" "Good. We don't want any going to waste. Thanks for making my dick feel good, by the way." "Oh yeah. That's a bonus for you. Thanks for the protein." "I like this payment method." Jake scrunched up his face a little. "I guess that's fair dude." Jake was still holding onto my dick with his right hand. "You can let go of that bro." Jake looked at his hand and slowly realized. "Oh! Sorry yeah." He let go of my dick slowly and let it lay against my stomach. Surprisingly Jake gave my dick a few gentle taps as if he was petting it. "We don't want to damage the goods." "Oh yeah, I have to be careful with those." We were both caressing my dick now. "Let that weapon rest so he can charge up all his shots for later." Jake laughed, jumped up, and threw himself onto his bed. I had no idea if Jake was just so oblivious at this point or if he knew what he was doing to me. I let out a deep breath and pulled my covers back up. "Fuck, dude, my mouth is all sticky. Bahaha!" I laughed with him even though the thought of that made me excited. "You know Jake? When you take the brotein injection you also lose some calories. It's like a workout almost." "Damn! Dude, that's so awesome. The more I learn about this, the better it gets! And I can't wait for tomorrow! It will be so awesome looking in the mirror In the morning and seeing my chest and arms be even bigger." "Well yeah, let's hope so. We don't know for sure if it will work like that." "Nah dude! I know it! I can feel it already. Trust me bro. My chest will be so big by tomorrow everyone at practice will call me "Jake the Great"! HAHA!" Jake was so dumb and yet so incredibly cute. He has certainly outdone himself with this one, and I couldn't help but be thankful for him. I almost thanked Jake for being here for me but chickened out. Everything seemed to fall into place with Jake, and I realized that even when things get crazy, which they already did, having somebody I can rely on makes all the difference in the world. Jake was my confidante and companion now. I needed him because I knew that this was only the beginning of many more crazy adventures to come. to be continued...

Summer Stories: The Workout pt. 3 “Wait wait wait!” James said. John relaxed a moment, lowering James back down, “I need to turn off the machine.” James ran over to the control panel and quickly switched off the machine, but his true intention was to see if the Penis Measurement took. John hoisted James over his shoulder, easily shouldering his 400lb son like it was nothing. John had one massive paw gripping James’s huge ass, holding him to his shoulder. James was positioned so that his chest was resting on top of John’s, his feet dangling behind them. James’s head was far enough out that, as he looked down, he could see John’s cock swinging back and forth in front of them, leading the way. It’s heavy mass occasionally knocking against a wall, a table, each time either shoving it out of the way with sheer force or bashing against it with a hard *thunk*. Marching up the stairs they protested with creaks and groans, half a ton of muscle hauling up the stairs. John took a pause at the top of the stairs and smacked James’s ass, using quite a bit of his strength to do it. “Fucking OW Dad!” James said. “Oh I’m going to make it red son. I’m going to destroy that sweet ass.” “Oh you LIKE spanking your son?” “I like watching that big ass shake and bounce is what I like!” John replied. Getting through the bedroom door was a struggle, John’s massive body too wide to fit head on, and with James over his shoulder the couldn’t go in sideways, “fuck it.” John said, and he simple walked through the doorway, his large shoulders shoving the trim and drywall out of the way, destroying the doorframe, “I needed to make that door bigger anyway.” Pieces of the destroyed wall sticking to his sweaty body and then falling to the floor. John threw James onto the bed, his huge son causing the metal reinforced frame to groan in protest of the sudden weight. John stood by the bed, hands on his hips, his cock so hard with excitement that, despite its weight, it was now sticking straight out, and angry red battering ram waiting to smash its target. “Holy fuck!” James said, looking at his Dad and almost losing composure. “Who’s your big alpha daddy?” John said, bouncing his enormous, hairy, sweaty chest. “You are sir.” John stepped forward, grabbed James’s ankle and easily flipped him over onto his back. Gripping his waist he hauled James’s ass into the air. “Look at that sweet hole. It’s so perfect.” John dropped a wad of spit onto James’s waiting hole. “Daddy’s gunna destroy that hole, you want that boy? You want daddy to fill you up?” “Yes sir. Please. Breed me daddy.” “Mmm boy. I’m so fucking hard right now.” To emphasize this, John smacked his monster cock onto James’s ass cheeks, sending ripples as if he were still being spanked. “Fuck dad. You’re so hard. Does your sons’ tight hole turn you on?” James moved his hole up and down along the length of John’s cock, teasing him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard and horny.” John said, a large wad of precum exiting his dick and dropping onto James’s back. “You gunna be a good boy and take all of daddy’s dick today aren’t you?” “Yes daddy!” “Tell me son. How big did that machine if yours say my cock was? I know it measured it.” James took a moment to clear his mind and remember, the weight of his dad’s steel hard pulsing cock clouding his every thought with lust. “30” long.” “And how thick son?” “15” thick.” John gripped his meat in both hands and smacked it down onto James’s ass. “Hell yeah. Two and a half feet of thick, rock hard, daddy dick. 630lbs of massive muscle power behind it. And it’s all yours.” John let go of his cock and, with two fingers, scooped a large amount of precum from his dripping cock. “Let’s get this hole ready.” James spread his ass cheeks apart, and John dove in between them. His long thick tongue expertly winding inside Jame. James moaned and writhed on the bed. John moaned into James, the vibrations turning on his son even more. “Mmm my boy tastes so good!” “Yeah. Eat your sons ass. Fucking get it ready for that cock!” The two we’re animals in heat, panting and drooling over one another. John pulled back and flipped James over again so he was on his back. With one hand, John began to massage two, then three fingers inside James; with the other hand he began to pump his son’s impressive wood. “Look at how hard daddy’s muscles make you. You’re such a little slut for your dad!” James couldn’t form a reply, between his dad’s huge hand working over his cock, his stupidly large fingers spreading his open, and his still swollen and pumped muscles flexing with every movement, he was almost there. John inserted another finger, let go on James’s cock, and started to lick his own flexed bicep. He knew James was close and he knew how to get his son off. He quickly began to work James’s prostate, the hole tightening around his fingers, James’s cock growing more rigid and blood filled by the second. “Ah. Dad. I’m gunna…uhhhh…im gunna cum!” “Cum for daddy son. Show me how much you love my muscles.” James came. Cum flying past his head and landing on the wall opposite the bed, ropes of cum left James’s cock and corded from the end of the bed, down his massive body. When he was finished his cock still leaked, still hard as a rock. “Alright son. I think you’re ready now.” “Ready?” James was a bit dizzy from the excitement. “Ready to get fucked. For real this time.” James snapped into reality. John hopped on the bed, the metal reinforcements bowing and scraping the floor as the behemoth dominated the remaining space on the Alaskan king mattress. John lined his cock head up with his son’s hole. “Alright son. You’ve taken almost half of my cock before. I think it’s gotten longer since then. So you’re going to have to really work for it this time. I’m not going to stop until I hear my nuts smack against your sweet ass. Understood?” “Yes sir!” “If it hurts too much, you can pinch my nipples to express the pain. That way I know to slow down.” “Okay dad.” “And above all. Be a good boy for daddy.” James felt his hole loosen at the words. John leaned forward, placing one massive arm on each side of James, propping James’s legs on his huge shoulders, and leaning in he began to kiss James. James flushed as he felt the forbidden love they were sharing. The inescapable bond of his fathers love and the inescapable situation as he lay powerless beneath Goliath. He felt his dad’s giant cockhead poking at his hole, sloppy wet with precum, as hard and hot as an iron rod just pulled from a forge. James relaxed his hole, preparing for the fucking of a lifetime. His entire view was dominated by John’s chest, still dripping with sweat, heaving with excitement and exertion, and covered in a thick mat of dark hair. James reached up and began to rub his dads pecs. Feeling the dense muscle hard packed and completely encapsulating. As John leaned further forward James’s cock was trapped between his own rock hard abs and John’s immovable and swollen abs. James was moaning, squeezing, feeling every bit of muscle his dad held over him. Then John slowly inserted his cock. Just the head. James was over the moon. John had done a good job preparing his hole, he was ready to milk every drop of cum from that king sized invader. Wanting to impress his dad, James adjusted his body, quickly taking almost half of his dad’s cock inside. “Fuckkkkk son!” John yelled, assaulting James’s mouth again in a feverish kiss. James flexed his hole. Feeling his own powerful muscles squeeze against the solid pile of John’s cock. John rocked back and forth, slowly pulling out and inserting back in, each time adding an inch or two. “You’re doing good son.” John encouraged. “Daddy it’s so fucking thick. I can feel it in my stomach.” “You’re over halfway there son. Just 10 or so inches to go.” John’s cock was so impossibly huge that “over halfway” meant he still had a stupid amount of cock left. What’s better, John’s cock only got thicker as it got closer to the base. James could feel the spongey head of John’s cock deep inside him. “Dad. You’re so deep inside me!” With that John pushed more. James felt an odd sensation on his ass, big fuzzy tennis balls scrapping his bare cheeks. John released James, “you did it boy. All 30” of daddy dick. All inside you.” “I can feel every inch dad.” James said. James grabbed John’s thick nipples, needed to work to get them exposed as they were so pointed down from the weight of his dad’s pecs they were almost hidden. “Shitttttt!” John bellowed. “DAD FUCK!” James cried out. James had played with his dad’s nipples and in response John’s cock had swollen even larger inside his son. “Yeah son. Just like that. Keep playing with daddy’s tits!” His head spinning, his hole stretched beyond compare, James continued to play with John’s chest. “Let’s let you get used to it.” John straightened up, his cock firmly deep inside James. He began to hit his favorite flexing poses. When he hit a most muscular pose, James was in heaven, he felt his body rising off the bed, levitating with pleasure. No. He wasn’t just imagining it. He wasn’t touching the bed anymore. John’s arms were raised in a double bicep pose. James was in shock and awe when he realized what was happening. Impailed on his dad’s cock, John was lifting his 400lb bodybuilder son off the bed with the strength of his unyielding cock. John flexed his cock, causing James’s whole body to move up and down. At this show of power on display James came again, shooting a larger load this time, covering himself in his own hot, sticky cum. “Now it’s daddy’s turn!” John said. He placed his hands under James and lifted him further off the bed. Using his godly strength, long arms, thick cock, John places James into a full Nelson fucking position. John’s arms held James’s legs apart, his hands resting behind James’s head. Using his powerful legs, he began to pump in his son. Beating his ass relentlessly with his big daddy dick. James babbled and grunted as the assault continued. John continuing to hold his entire weight and drill his hole. John was leaking so much precum inside James that it started to leak out of his stretched hole, every inch of John’s cock perfectly lubed as he stretched and filled every crevice inside his son. “I’m close son!” “Please daddy. Breed me. Fill me up!!” John grunted again, sweat pouring off his body, he thrust in one more time and James felt his cock swell larger than ever before. John’s cock twitched. Time seemed to standstill. John held James firmly in place on his dick, his cock swelling larger and larger preparing to pump a monster load inside of his son. Then the dam broke, and John began to unload into James. Pump after pump, volley after volley of cum. James could see his stomach expanding, his abs pushing out as John flooded him with his seed. “Take all daddy’s milk son.” He started to thrust in and out. He pulled out until just the head was in James. “Every!” He held James perched on the head of his cock. The mushroom head so swollen and hard it wouldn’t come out. “Fucking!” John flexed his cock, cum still pouring into James. “DROP!” And John slammed James completely into his cock, the force sending cum spraying from James’s tortured hole and John’s powerful cock forced its way back in, creating room by expelling the cum. John’s orgasm seemed to slow. But he was still hard. He laid onto the bed. James still on his cock. “Now. Ride daddy’s cock. Show me how much you want another load.” James prepared himself. His ass was oozing cum, he could feel the pints sloshing inside his stomach. James placed a hand on either of John’s bulging pecs, prepped his legs, and flexed his hole. The tight squeeze stopping any more cum from escaping, and he began to bounce up and down on John’s cock. “Just like that son!” James was emboldened by John’s praise, and he picked up pace. “There’s so much cock dad!” James said as he used his ass to work the top half of the cock. He continued to squat up and down until his legs started to burn. John could tell James was getting tired. John pulled James head into his chest. The deep hairy cavity between the walls of muscle soaked in sweat and now mixed with James’s cum which still covered the younger man’s body. James licked every inch he could, still squeezing on the outside. “Yeah. Daddy’s gunna suffocate you in those big pecs!” John positioned his legs, ready to ram his cock back inside James. He thrust in, the full length of John’s cock filling up James again. He began an onslaught of fucking. Moving at a furious pace, the friction at James’s hole hot enough to start a fire. John’s heavy balls smacking against James with a wet *twack twack twack twack* as John only increased the pace. James, still buried in John’s pecs screamed in pleasure as his dad fulfilled his promise to break him in half. John came again, not slowing his pummeling of James’s hole. Powering through the load and continuing to pound. John quickly flipped James over. Shoving his face into the bed and mounting him. With his huge calloused hands, John grabbed James’s hips and brought the back to his own. Pulling all the way out and then gliding back in. Over and over they moved in an effortless synchronous rhythm. James holding firm, and John expertly filling his son’s hole. Without notice John pulled his cock out. Immediately James felt a sense of emptiness and loss. He was created to have that cock buried inside him, why must it leave. John flipped James again, onto his back. “Jerk your cock son. Cum EXACTLY when I do!” James grabbed his own cock, which he had ignored the entire time. John could make him cum without him even touching himself. John began to work his extravagant length with one hand, pinching his nipple with the other. John was licking the sweat off the top of his pecs. The swollen muscles were practically up to hjs chin. “Please put it back inside me. Please. Please dad. I need you cock!” James was pleading and begging like a child, but the look in John’s eye let him know John loved to hear him beg for more. “Yeah. You want more? You need more of daddy’s fuckin’?” “Please. I feel empty. I need more sir!” “That’s my boy!” John lined his cock up with James destroyed cum filled hole and slowly inserted all 30” of cock inside, then he froze, and came. On cue James shot his load as well. The two muscle beasts roaring in pleasure, one as he filled his son with a heavy load yet again, and the other pointing his cock straight up so his cum landed directly on his dad’s massive barrel chest. John collapsed onto James, still hard inside him. “Fuck dad. Switch places. You’re crushing me.” James said. “Oh is daddy too big for you?” “Never big enough.” James replied. John hoisted himself up and kissed James. “And I’ll never stop growing for you son.” As he said it John sank his length back into James. Feeling his sons worn hole accept him entirely. The next morning the two woke almost simultaneously. James waking up from the throbbing pain in his ass, and John waking up from the massive boner. They fallen asleep with John still inside James. “Dad. Your morning wood woke me up.” He teased. “Maybe you should take care of that so daddy can go make breakfast. I’m starved after last night. James climbed on top of John and planted his ass completely down on his dad’s cock, then he flexed his hole and began to grind on John’s cock. Squeezing John’s nipples, his shaft thickening. A battle of John’s hard cock vs. James’s impossibly strong ass muscles. “Take it all bitch!” John cries and he pumped a morning load into James, his cock softening to a semi hard state. It was still long enough to be bigger than any cock James had ever seen, but at least now the head would slide out of his hole. As the head popped out with an audible *pop* cum rushed out and followed. James was leaking pints of his dad’s seed. “That’s fucking hot son. I didn’t realize I filled you up that much.” James kissed his fathers body as John got out of bed. “Dad. Do you have to get up?” “Im hungry son. While I make breakfast you clean up this mess.” “But I don’t want eggs for breakfast I want…” his eyes trailed to John’s swaying cock. “There’s plenty of cock for you. But we need to eat. You’re a big boy now, you need to keep those muscles fed!” John punctuated this statement with a signature bicep pose. “Besides. We have some things to discuss.” James felt his heart race. What could they have to talk about. “What things are those?” “Well. For starters. Are you going to stay here this semester, or go back to school?”

Chapter 3 It isn’t raining. Somehow, it feels like it should be. If this was a movie, he’d be sitting here, still, with those words ringing in his ears, the room long-cold around him. And rain against the glass. But there’s no rain. And the reality of the emptiness in him, that gnawing, festering wound in the pit of his stomach was anything but a movie. It was real. The feelings that had evaded him while she was still here slowly catch up to him. The hatred, the pity, the loneliness and - the jealousy. Why couldn’t he have what they had? Why was he left behind - no, worse, falling away while they achieved such bigger and better things? But there was only so long the jealousy could twist him. The room had long turned dark around him as he sat in the same place, looking out of the window at nothing in particular, those words still ringing in his ears. He was never going to catch up to Seb. He was never going to grow at all, and he'd been coming to that realization for a long time. In this moment, with the tears dried and the denial gone, he realises; it's not envy he's been experiencing these last few weeks. It's sheer terror. Fear of losing his girlfriend, of losing his friends and - if the last measurement was anything to go by - of losing himself. He was diminished - literally and figuratively dwindling away. There was nothing he could do about Brie. And Seb was difficult to even be around. But maybe there was something he could do about that last one. What did he have to lose? Seb had known about the break-up before it had even happened, Brie having confided in Abbie before she left, and she in him. But he still waited a day before reaching out via text. And then another before calling Trent. And then another before he turned up at Trent's place, knocking on the door with wall-shaking blows. He didn't get an answer to any of them. Looking around him, he shrugs before taking out the copy of the key he had kept since his tenure there. There was no sign of his little buddy - and nor would there be for another two weeks. -------------------------------------------------------- Abbie makes her way to her next class, barely looking where she's going. She was big enough for people to see, after all, they'd get out of HER way, if they knew what was good for them. She has her eyes glued on her phone as she sends another message to Sebastian, promising all the things she had on her mind for this evening. A large man, though not as tall as her, passes by, his shadow falling across her phone for a second. She doesn't look up - but then she frowns, and stops. She feels like she saw a face she recognized out of the corner of her eye. But when she looks around, he's gone. -------------------------------------------------------- Brie and Adam arrive for breakfast, smiling at each other and holding hands. They’d made it official about a week ago now. The two would look cute, if it weren't for the fact they were built like a god and goddess, towering over anyone else in the lunchroom. They join a table of Adam's friends. "- and maxed out at, I dunno man, 500? Maybe higher?" "Haha! Yeah, right, keep dreaming!" Says Adam to his buddy, who was half way through an anecdote, his arms gesticulating wildly. Adam can't believe he used to look up to this guy who looked so puny to him now. "You couldn't lift 500lbs with a forklift." "Yeah, yeah, good morning to you too, your majesty" he says, looking a little annoyed. "But I wasn't talking about me. New guy at the gym, real early this morning - we thought he was one of you." Brie and Adam exchange a smirk - it wasn't hard to tell what he'd meant by 'one of you', as there were, after all, just two giant power couples on campus. It was nice to hear still... "I've not heard of any newbies. What's he like?" "Big." "Pfft. I'll be the judge of that, haha!" -------------------------------------------------------- Sebastian was feeling smug. He was walking with his arm around his killer girlfriend, taking in the cold evening air but not particularly bothered by it. He always ran hot these days. Adam and Brie were next to him, the four of them deciding to head home earlier than intended from the bar, with one thing on all of their minds. "Naw man, I've not seen anyone I don't recognize - and you know I basically fucking live there bro!" Seb guffaws, as Adam relates the story of the mysterious lifter. "Your pal probably can't tell the difference between plates, either that or he can't count." "Yeah, you're probably right. Still, it'd be nice to have a third guy around who can actually keep up." "Oh, so you can keep up with my Seb then, Adam?" Abbie asks in a honeyed voice, hanging onto her boyfriend's swollen arm. "I thought you were just a teensy bit behind still.." "Hey!" He retorts. "Being #2 on campus to this guy isn't easy, y'know! Brie! Babe, aren't you going to defend your man? ...Brie?" The three of them turn around, and see Brie staring at the building they'd just been walking past. She points upward, without turning to them. "That light... that's Trent's room." -------------------------------------------------------- The four of them look ridiculous packed around a single door in such a tight hall; once again, Seb knocks loudly enough to shake the foundations, but this time it isn't long before the door is answered, swung open by the annoyed inhabitant. It's Trent - they can see that - but not as they knew him. He isn't huge, at least not by the standards of the two men standing outside, but neither is he small. He stands close to, if not matching Brie's newly reached 6'5", his shoulders broad and packed into a skin-tight shirt. His arms look densely packed with corded muscle, every bit as shredded as the Big Man himself, albeit on a smaller scale. But his face... He looks tired. Huge bags under eyes that look at each of his visitors with coldness. He doesn't look angry - disdained maybe, but any emotion that plays across his face seems dulled, and that's matched by the expressionless tone in which he addresses them. "What is it?" "What is it? Man, I've been trying to get hold of you for WEEKS! You can't just leave your friends worried like that." Trent cocks his head as he assesses that response, watching Seb's face. How had he never spotted it before? The words were so convincing, but the facial expression - he’s not even hiding the smirk. Brie, to her credit, does seem genuinely concerned but the others look like they've been dragged along for the ride. "Mhmm," He responds. "Well, now you can sleep soundly, is there anything else?" "Trent, what happened to you?" asks Brie. "You look... bigger. You didn't do anything stupid?" "He took the last shot, didn't you little guy?" Says Adam, ruffling Trent's hair. "I don't blame you - but it's hilarious how far you had to go, and you're still the shortest of the four of us haha!" "Did I?" Trent shoots the question back. "I didn't do anything stupid, Brie." "But if you took a second dose, you don't know what kind of-" "I didn't take a second dose." Trent interrupts. He looks tired because he IS tired. He didn't want to have to deal with this at all, but he knew sooner or later it would be inevitable. There was just no avoiding these four; not for him. "Fine. Anyone who's interested can come in, if it gets you off my back." The four of them squeeze in there with him. For Brie, it was surreal; it had only been two weeks, and perhaps another inch of growth, since she'd last been in here. But her former home was bigger in her mind. Seeing it now, so filled with bodies, blew that picture away. Seb particularly has to squeeze through the door frame, and doesn't even attempt to take a seat anywhere other than the floor. "So, man, spill - what's the secret to your growth success? And can I use it to get even BIGGER?" Seb teases, causing a smile around the room. It cuts the tension - for everyone except Trent, who remains icy. He only looks at Brie as he speaks. "When you broke up with me, I was devastated. And while I perhaps have things I would still argue about..." He grits his teeth, choosing his next words carefully. "I came to realise you were right about one thing. I hadn't been at peace for a long time. I was terrified, and the thing that scared me most was... well, being so small. It was one thing to not experience the growth all of you had, but it was another to begin shrinking. Who shrinks after taking a growth hormone?" "We've been through this, you didn't excercise-" "No, that's just what you assumed. You assumed that my lack of growth was my fault." Trents blood boils as he tries to at least keep the veneer of calmness. This tired narrative again? After learning the truth, he couldn't believe he had fallen for it. He'd done plenty of exercise, and even if he hadn't, what difference would that make to his height? He had been gaslit, as he had been about so many other things. "So much about this drug has been based on conjecture, I decided that if I was worried - and I was really worried - I ought to talk to the people that know. To see if there was something wrong. I went back up to Canada. I met with Zenico, the guys who made - well, all of you." He turns to look at Sebastian, who stays uncharacteristically quiet. Abbie, noting the held stare between the two, asks. "Well? I mean you've spoiled the ending a bit, we know you're bigger, so they obviously found out what was wrong with you. What was it?" Trent heads over to his desk, and returns with a printed letter in his hand, with medical charts attached. He holds it out to her. "It turns out people don't experience any effect from B852 when they haven't taken a shot of B852." There's a moment of incredulous silence as the room takes in what he says, and Abbie looks over the letter. Brie breaks it. "Look, I know you had a tough time, but you're being ridiculous. You had the same shot, from the same vial we all did." "Then why did my blood tests come back negative?" Brie looks over at Abbie who, still reading, gives a shrug but doesn't contradict Trent. "Trent, you grew. I know it was less than you hoped for, and I know you lost it again, but you have to face the facts that-" "I am facing the facts. The fact that before I supposedly took B852, my physician measured me at 5'10". The fact that, when I arrived at Zenico, their doctor measured me at 5'10". And the fact that my bloods showed clear for Zenico products." Again, all eyes go to Abbie. "I mean, yeah, that's what the letter says. Assuming it's real. Don't look at me, I'm not a doctor..." Trent presses on, "Combine all of this with the fact that Zenico swears that their products, in all their testing, have shown no signs of making people shrink. In fact, they had to develop an entirely separate formula that WOULD do that, to help slow the effects of B852 in people with bad reactions. My height didn’t change. I didn't put on half an inch, and I didn't shrink to 5'9". "Well, then how do you explain your yoyo-ing height?" At this point, Trent turns back to the silent giant. "I dunno, Seb, you want to pitch in?" "Little guy, I gotta tell you - you sound paranoid. Have you been getting enough sleep?" It's all in the eyes, Trent thinks. His tone is fair and dripping with concern, but he hasn't blinked since we got in here. He stares at Trent as if daring him to continue. Trent sneers at him, and he dares. "Brie, you grew, what? More than a foot? You were all growing. From your perspective, do you honestly think you can eyeball less than an inch difference in height? And thinking back, did you ever actually measure me? No. It was all him. The same guy who says he gave me my shot, when the medical experts at the company who made the damn thing say very much otherwise. What was it you gave me, saline? Or were you crazy enough to do something else?" Seb shakes his head, but it's Adam that butts in, belligerently putting his large hand on Trent's shoulder; there's less give there than he expected. "So what, you're trying to say you're not on B852? I ain't buying it, pipsqueak. You might still be smaller, but you're not that little any more. No way could you do this without help." Trent shakes his meaty paw away. "No. I took a dose - for the first time, two weeks ago. They offered it to me after my examination." "You expect us to believe you grew this much in three weeks from the same drug we took?" "Not exactly," Trent relinquishes. "They offered me a trial of a new supplementary procedure. Same dose - but they introduce a catalyst that forces the body to process it quicker. I didn't have the same slow start you did - well, discounting the artificial one Seb gave me, of course. But I didn’t have the same smooth ride either" "How was it?" Brie asks, genuine concern playing across her brow. Trent's dark expression only deepens. "Painful. And dangerous. They, er - they had to resuscitate me twice." The sombre confession quiets the room - until Seb breaks it with an annoyed sniff. "Wow, dude. I didn't think you'd stoop so low just to get our pity." "Excuse me?" "Come on," he holds his hands up to the room, his arm span casting a shadow over much of the living area. "You expect us to believe this crap? I mean, it's one thing to try and lay the blame at my feet. I'm used to you doing that for everything since I got so much fucking BIGGER than you. But making up lies about dying on the table? To your friends? Fucking low, bro, even for a guy as little as you." Trent is apoplectic at this point. He snatches the letter from Abbie's grasp and brandishes it. "You're still calling me a liar? After everything you've done to me? What you took from me? Do you want me to call the doctors who literally brought me back to life?" "So I can talk to some out-of-work theatre major you've prepped for the role? No thanks. Face it Trent, you're jealous. You've always been jealous. And when your girlfriend broke up with you for being a whiny little bitch you couldn't take it any more and took that last shot, just like Adam said." Trent gawps at him, and then at the faces in the room. They were buying this. Of course they were. He had them wrapped around his finger, whereas he was always cast as the villain. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this; but he had no choice. With a sigh of frustration, he storms out the room. "Should someone go after him?" Abbie asks, looking at Brie. "Nah, let him stew," Seb says, "He always gets pissy like this when he loses, he'll be back any second. You think he'd be used to it by now. Are you alright, Brie? I know you're not with him any more, but those lies must have cut pretty deep." "What? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What about you though? It was you he was trying to turn us against. I'd hoped, if the stuff could ever actually work for him, that he might be able to put all that baggage aside, but that was deranged. I never thought he could do something like this." "Oh, s'all good. Takes more than that to hurt a big guy like me, right?" Seb's ears prick up as he hears footsteps behind him. "Ah, there you are little guy, have you had time to ca- argh! What the FUCK was THAT?" He recoils as, in his seated position on the floor - the top of his ass showing where his too-small shirt rides up - he feels a sharp sting in his butt cheek. His question is answered as Trent moves past him and places two things on the coffee table that acts as the centre of the room. The empty vial of B852 and the used syringe. "That was the last dose" he says through gritted teeth. "And it's all yours. Will you listen to me now?" He addresses the others in the room, but they're staring at the giant behind him. He does the same. Over time, the four had gotten used to the bravado of Big Seb. Always ready with a joke, a big belly laugh, a flex of his muscles... What sits in front of them now is a ghost of the skinny little teen they used to know. His face is ashen, massive shoulders slumped - he visibly trembles as he looks at the vial on the table. He's just as big as he's ever been, but simply the shift in body language is enough to diminish him. Abbie reaches out and takes his hand in both of hers. "Seb? Sebastian, baby, are you okay?" "...No..." He croaks, still fixated on the vial. "No, no, no, NO! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?" His flip to blinding fury is near-instant, rising to his feet so quickly he inadvertently knocks his own girlfriend out of the way. He towers over Trent, snarling down at thim, the size difference between them no longer the biggest it's been, but certainly the most terrifying. Adam sees his friend bearing down on the runt, but is frozen to the spot himself - he feels he should intervene, but to come between such a beast and his quarry? He didn't have it in him. It takes both Brie and Abbie interjecting, physically putting themselves between the two, for Trent to retreat to the otherside of the room. Seb breathes-in great seething lungfuls, shoulders pumping as the girls desperately try to placate him. "Easy! Baby, take it slow, it's not-" "You get your fucking car!" He shouts over the room. "You get your fucking car, we're going to Zenico right NOW do you hear? I can't lose this!" He'd said too much - and it's this realization more than his girlfriend's words that sap the rage - though he was still shaking with quiet fury. "Bro, it's just the same stuff you've had before. You're not gonna lose anything, you'll just get bigger right?" Adam says, still rooted to his seat. "We don't know that," Seb replies quickly. "They say not to take more than one dose, it could do anything." "But... seconds ago, you were saying that's why Seb grew." Brie's tone is flat, but the disbelief is dripping from it. "You said something about losing something? Why would you immediately assume that two doses of a growth hormone would do that?" "Baby," Abbie says in a small, placating voice. "Baby, what's going on? Why are you so scared?" Seb is cornered, suddenly the concerned faces in the room all pointed at him. "Look - it wasn't meant... I only meant to do it as a prank. And nothing would happen unless he was vain enough to try something..." "What prank Seb? Shh, it's okay, whatever Trent has done to you we can figure out..." Abbie strokes his back, nurturing her normally domineering partner instinctively. It only makes him feel worse. "I.... I, uh... I got rid of the last shot. I put something else in there..." "What baby? What did you put in there?" All eyes are on Seb as he struggles to find words. Even Abbie, who still tries to soothe him, is looking at him with horror. There's got to be a way out, he thought. He doesn't lose. He's Big Seb. But.. for how long? He was suddenly at the precipice now, everything he'd gained about to fall away from him. No more friends, no more girlfriend and, most importantly, no more Big. Just Seb. His voice is barely a whisper. "B8-X. I got hold of some. The stuff Trent mentioned, the stuff that reverses the shot..." "And what would that have done to me?" Trent asks, his voice cracking as he makes his way closer again, "If I'd taken it. I didn't have the 852 shot to begin with. What would you have DONE to me?" "I didn't mean any harm! It's just... you were so small, and..." "And it wasn't enough to be bigger than everyone else, was it? You also had to make sure that I was SMALLER. Someone to compare yourself to. Someone to treat like they weren't even human, because the smaller I became the bigger you felt. I mean, why the fuck not? You'd been doing it to me mentally for months anyway, why not physically destroy my body too?" It's his turn to be held back, Adam easily up to the task this time. "You had the same chance we all did. I just wanted to stop you in case you got greedy," Seb spits at him. This causes Abbie to snap. "But he didn't, did he?" she asks, tears welling in her eyes. "Because he didn't take a second dose. Because if he had, he would be even smaller. He's telling the truth - you didn't give him the first dose, did you?" "Abbie... baby, why are you so upset? It’s just Trent." "You lied to me..." She looks grief stricken as she looks down at her boyfriend. "Just now. How can I trust you?" Trent stops fighting, and Adam decides to let him down. He looks the smaller man up and down, for the first time actually seeing him - not straight through him. "I'm sorry man. I swear, we had no idea what Seb was up to..." "Yes you did. You all did. Seb was the one putting on the show for you - lying to me about the injection, how much I'd grown, how much he wanted to reconnect, and help me succeed, and let me be a part of this. All the while taking every opportunity he had to humiliate me, to make me HATE the meagre success that I'd worked so hard for. You all saw that, and you loved it, because why would you care about me? Don't pretend to, now." "Fuck you," Seb sneers at him. "You're sitting there on your high horse pretending you're the victim in all this - how long have you planned to do this to me, huh? To stick me with this filth and take away EVERYTHING I have. Don't pretend you're not loving this, asshole." "I'm loving this!? How can I love any of it? Do you know how sick I felt when they told me what was in that vial?" The attention in the room flashes back to him now. "Oh what, you think I wouldn't bring a sample of the drug I took with me? You should have seen how panicked they got, thinking I'd taken it." "But now I'VE taken it! Please, please you've got to take me up there, get them to reverse it somehow-" "I did to you exactly what you did to me-" "But I didn't, not yet, I can make this right, I can-" "You're not. LISTENING!" There's no fighting back the tears any more as they run freely down Trent's face. There are five giants in the room, but for all the world it feels like only two people. "You're so wrapped up in your own self-interest, still, that you can't hear the words I'm saying. I did to you EXACTLY what you did to me. I injected you with the same thing you put into me. A dummy shot. Not the B8-X. Not B852. Nothing." "You... you tricked me..?" "Fucking hurts, doesn't it? To be tricked by a friend. To be staring down the barrel of losing everything. Fuck, Seb, I got this stuff for the two of us. Imagine what it could have been like, going on this journey together. Couldn't that be enough? Why do any of this?" With one last, scrunched up act of malice Seb leans forward and hisses. "Because you treated me like I was small." By contrast, Trent is a picture of almost nothing but pity. "You were small, Seb. And you still are." The conversation goes nowhere from there, and slowly the four giants filter out of the room. Trent, who is sitting, looking out of the same window from the night Brie left just a few weeks ago, hears Adam mutter as he leaves. "...you can if you want, baby. I trust you. If you want to look after him-" "No," Brie responds. "No, I think it's best to just go." Find yourself. Good idea. And here he was, vindicated, bigger than he'd ever been and rapidly growing. And still all alone.

Whenever I finish a story on this site, I like to give some bonus behind the scenes material. This gets self-indulgently personal, so feel free to skip to the last paragraph (or just the bolded bit) if you’re not in the mood for that kind of content. Ever since I’ve started doing some typing as part of my physical therapy for Arnold (my brain tumor), I’ve built up significant progress. I currently do about two to three hours of typing a day; my livelihood and quality of life depend on my ability to type, so I am taking it eminently seriously. I used to be a demon at typing. People (friends, family, co-workers, even students) used to comment that I was inhumanly fast. While typing, I also made comparatively few errors for the speed I typed (in part because my thoughts include punctuation). I regularly made mistakes, obviously—I am human, after all. But, I didn’t have to sacrifice speed for accuracy. Hell, I could hold a conversation while typing an unrelated document (that parlor trick used to scare people). I say this not to boast but to provide context for why I was so scared in my last comment under my “Hello” post—I went from that level of dexterity to being unable to hold a spoon tightly or for very long. I was terrified I would never type again I had so little control over my hands. As I’ve practiced typing, there have been some casualties along the way. At first, my typing was so ungainly that I literally broke the keyboard on my laptop and now use an old plug-and-play keyboard my brother had in his basement. Even with hiccups like that along the way, the practicing has paid off; I’m almost back up to full speed. I’m not there yet, and I make a frustratingly large number of mistakes that I have to go back and fix. At the same time, I acknowledge that, considering where I started pre-Arnold, “slightly below normal speed” for me is fast by most people’s standards. Considering the difficulty I had with my hands as recently as February, I want to use the adjective “miraculous” to describe my progress. In fact, because of the amount of time I dedicated daily to typing, I finished the first draft of a full-length play in April. Since that project went swimmingly, I decided to work on a story for this website from an idea I had pre-Arnold. I’m currently 21 pages into that project (the working title is “Going Niche”). However, from my prewriting, I suspect that project is likely to end up being comparable in length to Weird, But Sweet or even Hey, Big Guy. I hope to start treatment for Arnold in June (I haven’t even started treatment yet; you read that right), and my neurologist warned me that any progress I’ve made could be lost nearly instantaneously if Arnold decides to have a growth spurt. For those reasons, I’m scared I’ll never finish the story I’m currently working on. I definitely won’t finish it by June 5th, the date of my next MRI. With all of this in mind, I decided to set a challenge for myself like I often do on this website. I took my normal three hours of typing practice one day and wrote a brand new story, swearing to publish it after three hours, even if it was unfinished. To keep myself honest, I set an alarm on my phone. I gave myself a half hour for prewriting (I am still the Monarch of Prewriting), half an hour for editing, and two hours for writing. That story ended up being “His Dream Come True.” Unfortunately, my plan didn’t go as smoothly as I wanted it to. The plot was too ambitious for this challenge, and I ended up with only 10 minutes to edit. So, the version I posted was rough by my standards. Yes, because these were self-imposed rules, I could've taken more time to edit. The time limit was imaginary. However, the whole point was to challenge myself, and it’s not much of a challenge if I change the rules for my convenience. So, I published it in its rough state. I’m glad this story got a positive response. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised it did. I don’t say this to fish for compliments. Just the opposite, in fact. I am floored, flabbergasted, and flattered at the love this story got. It was a bright light in a dark time for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you all. I also don’t say any of this to brag. I hear how much of what I’ve shared in this post can come across as bragging. I apologize for that. It wasn’t my goal; it was merely inevitable to communicate what I wanted to communicate. Additionally, I know I’m being unfairly harsh on a story I cranked out that fast. The story’s decent. I’m not ashamed of it. I just know it could have been better. In fact, as soon as I’ve posted this, I plan on giving the story a once-over. I am making no major structural changes, though. There are a lot of details from my prewriting that did not make it into the final draft because of the time limit: a more thorough description of Dirk’s midsection, the payoff for the “crooked smile,” how the fae proved her powers to Perry, more appeals to the senses, a longer description of what Perry looked like in his workout clothes. I’m consigning all of these details to the fire: I couldn’t write them in the time allotted, so they’re gone. But, because I want this story to be as polished as possible, I’m allowing myself to edit for grammar, clarity, continuity, and style—because I respect my readers and have a sense of professional pride. Again thank you, thank you, thank you all.

Chapter 8 - beach workout Paul woke up feeling the hot morning sun rays hitting the tent and warming it up, the sun in Australia was very strong. Alex wasn’t there, so Paul stood up, still feeling some stickiness from the remains of his cum from the night before, and peeked out of the tent. There Alex was, in all his glory, a naked mountain of muscles, strutting his solid body and cooking up a breakfast on the portable stove. His back was just so wide and thick,and his arms were massive powerful pythons moving like hydraulic pistons. He turned around to face Paul. “Morning mister, slept well? I thought we feed our muscles a bit and then we go for a workout, there is an open air gym next to the car park, not fancy but got everything we need and it would be fun” Paul saw a mountain of fried eggs, another of bacon and some thick tuna steaks, all sizzling and ready to eat. “Of course, it sounds great. By the way you look different this morning. Still big and powerful but , …” “I know, I am so much smoother now, hey. It happens, my muscles relax overnight and kind of compact and I look less ripped, but still in great shape, just more of a model than a gymrat, not sure I like it. I prefer the ripped, veiny, shredded massive gymrat look, you know” With that Alex instantaneously exploded in a most muscular pose which immediately transformed all his muscles into ripped, obscenely powerful mounds of strong meat. And then relaxed, returning to his smooth morning look. His body was still proportioned incredibly well, huge in the right places and looking strong like hell, but very smooth and sinewy. They sat down at the camping table, and the chairs creaked when Alex sat on it. They started eating, Alex was devouring the eggs one at a time in large mouthfuls, crushing the crunchy toasts with his large mouth. Just seeing this muscle monster devouring all that protein was enough to get Paul’s dick up and hard. As they finished and had the coffee, Alex let out a huge belch, which Paul normally hated but in that context just made his cock reach full hardness. Alex stood up cleaned it all in seconds and slipped on a pair of speedos. Paul was waiting for his massive hardon to go down, and hesitate to stand up, looking at Alex’s muscles and especially in speedos was not helping. “Paul let’s go, take care of that now if you need, want me to help?” Paul was embarrassed “No mate, no let me get ready” and he went in the tent to get changed, he put on a tight pair of speedos after squeezing his head hard to keep the big cock down, and on top he slipped some boardshorts, so that he had some shielding. A workout with Alex was going to be hot and he didn’t want to get hard in public. “Good on ya Paul, nice choice. I don’t fucking care as I can control my large cock so I wear speedos, more comfy. And don’t give a damn to what people think, so let’s hit the gym, you’l see it’s fun” They walked up the hill and through the car park, and reached the clearing where the open air gym was installed. Alex’s body was glistening in the morning sun and his bum trapped in those speedos was looking incredibly sexy from behind. The guy was a fucking stud and he knew it. “So Paul let’s get a good pump, and I don’t care what people think I just wanna get jacked as fuck, and pumped as fuck, so let’s go” Paul was thinking about the bigger size he had last night and didn’t think that was going to be such a huge difference, yet he was curious to see how much bigger was Alex going to get with his pump, and thinking of witnessing his strength was enough to start the hardening process in his pants… Alex jumped and grabbed the bar up high, and started to do a super fast series of chin ups to warm up. He did 40 or 50 and jumped down. “Man this is too easy, let’s do it together do you mind? I can grab you with my legs.” Paul stepped closer, and Alex jumped up again and wrapped his huge legs around Paul, looking them behind him. Paul felt those hard, solid powerful legs squeezing him and lifting him off the ground fairly easily. The thighs were humongous and not knowing where to hold on with the arms Paul hugged back Alex, getting a full frontal of his pecs and chest. Then Alex starting the chin ups. Like a theme park ride Paul felt catapulted up and down, in a powerful motion, and lost the count of the repetitions. He did see the chest, pecs and lat muscles starting to expand, getting ripped, more chiseled, and…thicker. At some point Alex let go of his buddy and the bar, and they both landed. Alex on his feet, and caught Paul who almost fell over. Alex saw the small tent in Paul’s shorts and smirked. “Your turn Paul” They continued swapping, and Alex always used Paul as an additional weight, they did push ups, abs exercises, press-ups, then Alex did a handstand and pressed his shoulders maintaining perfect balance. Paul was stunned to see such power in front of his eyes. Alex was growing shredded and freaky with every set, gaining size, thickness, definition, even the veins were engorged with blood. Other two guys were training in that open air gym, and they were pretty stunned to see the two hunks, and particularly watching the huge guy in speedos pump to the brim. They were quite fit and muscled but in a different, more tame league. At some point Alex asked the two guys to help him, and he asked them to act as human dumbbells, he grabbed each one and lifted them up, pushing them up in military presses. They held onto his thick paws and let him do a ridiculous amount of reps after which they were almost dizzy. They commented on his size and shape, and even felt his bicep. They were visibly straight but super impressed. Paul was trying in all his might to keep his cock down, but watching his friend barefoot, in speedos, pumping his muscles like crazy, becoming shredded and exploding in size, was a real challenge. Alex was not even out of breath, ever. “Ok Paul let’s do some legs, where is your car” Paul was puzzled: “Why? What do you mean?” Alex walked to the car park and stood behind Paul’s car, grabbed the rear end with his paws and started lifting it off the ground. Slowly his legs pushed it up, held it for a few moments and down again. After 20 reps Paul was shocked and getting real hard. “Fuck man, fuck, you are a muscle god. Fuck me, that is awesome” “Try it, you can do it too” Paul was nervous but he tried it. He grabbed the metallic parts and lifted, to his surprise, he managed to lift it off the ground, he held it for a moment and dropped with a loud bang. And he cut his fingers a bit. “That was great Paul, keep trying and you will get legs like mines” Alex flexed his thigh, showing a huge mound of powerful shredded muscles. Then he walked in front of the car, which was a lot heavier, and lifted it grunting. Did many reps and completed 4 sets. At the end, his legs looked like a mr Olympia professional bodybuilder. They got so thick that his walk changed a bit and he was walking funny, and hot as fuck. They continued to train , and on the way back to the tent they stopped in a clearing with a few large atlas-like stones in it. Alex grabbed one that must have weighed at least 100-120 kilo, and lifted it by hugging it with his big arms. Paul gasped and by then his cock was hard and dripping precum. “It’s ok Paul, I love your tent in your pants, let it rip through, watch this” Alex tightened his hug on the stone, and Paul could not believe it, those huge pythons were getting freaky, veiny, shredded pistons of muscle. His chest was huge, freaky in size and appearance. Alex gritted his teeth and increased the pressure exerted with his chest and arms, the stone started creaking. He grunted loud and the stone crunched in his arms, splitting in 2-3 big chunks, sliding off each other and falling off his powerful embrace. With some dust popping out from the cracks, he let the pieces drop off and grunting exploded in a massive double bicep pose, showing off his gargantuan, freaky upper body on top of the titanic legs and the freaky sexy thick bare feet. Paul could not take any more and let it all go, he felt his cock explode and once he saw the double bicep pose he started spewing huge ropes of cum in his speedos, under his boardshorts. One after another, strong jets of cum that made him feel dizzy. Alex laughed hard, he got closer, grabbed Paul’s face and gave him a deep kiss. Another additional shot came out of Paul’s dick. They returned to the tent, and Paul was still feeling a bit dizzy. Alex was very happy, he absolutely loved to show off and make Paul excited like that. Paul noticed that the speedos that Alex was wearing were incredibly sexy and tight, and they looked obscenely sexy while he was exercising, but even though the package was well above average, and anyone looking at the stud would have thought “fuck that guy is hung as a horse” as you could see his flaccid large thick cock miraculously compacted with his large balls, it was laying down in its lair, undisturbed by any event. “Paul, I love when you cum just over my sheer power, you haven’t seen anything, I’m gonna make you cum any time I want. You don’t have the control I have, my dick was nice and at rest all the time but if I want I can wake it up, look” Paul looked at the bulge in the speedos and saw the flaccid cock quickly move, slide and unravel itself, and form a curved, protruding bump. Then continue to enlarge, thicken and lift the speedos, obscenely increase the size of the bulge. Reaching the limits of the flexible fabric, the gaps formed and as the titanic cock was pushing the fabric out, it exposed the large balls, which flopped out and down by the sides, and relentlessly pushed the speedos out until the cock reached its full, straight length and his thickness was obscenely visible. Then Paul was ready for his final trick. “Paul, squeeze my nipples, now” Paul was in utter shock, he grabbed the nipples, hard as steel and squeezed as hard as he could. Alex threw back his thick rugby player neck, and he let his cock shoot up in size. With an audible “CRACK” his cock exploded in size, thickness and it did so at such speed that the speedos were destroyed as if they were shot at. The cock was free, standing at full attention, then dripping a steady flow of precum. Alex grabbed Paul and carried him inside the tent, deposited him on the floor, let his cock stand up, then slowly lowered himself on Paul's cock, after lubricating it with a copious amount of saliva. Then Alex sat on it, devouring all of his girth with his hungry hole. Even Alex’s hole felt solid, tight , and powerful, every time he exerted his sphincter Paul felt the enormous force that was available to that massive hunk. He had that massive cock ni his face, and Alex bounced off his cock a few times. Alex's size was freaky huge, and Paul could not resist any longer and he shot again inside Alex, who was in a bliss, grabbed his dick with both his huge hands and shot out a massive multiple roped cum jet, redecorating the inside of the tent. Paul was once again impressed by the power of that jet and understood why the poor guy that was face fucked had cum coming out of his nostrils. They both laid down, spent, hugging each other, Paul exploring again Alex’s incredible body, and Alex starting to explore Paul’s, both finding each other sexy and falling asleep together. In the afternoon it was time to pack up and return, they had a swim, more training, and once they were driving back in the car, Alex was looking gigantic. He was wearing his denim shorts, barefoot, bare chested, a singlet was next to him but he would wear it only later, maybe. He was a fucking muscle god. Paul was getting toned and pumped too from the workout, and he was feeling pumped and hunky, more than usual. The workouts were going to get more intense, and Paul wanted to grow more. “When we get back we can train in my father gym, and I can introduce you to some of his friends, bug fucking muscle bastards, you’ll love them they are fucking strong russian beasts. Also Paul I was thinking, what about your friend in Germany, he seemed a nice guy, and I would love to fuck him, he seems hot. Invite him over, he would love Australia” and saying so he flexed his massive bicep, and grabbed his huge package with his massive paw. They both laughed. To be continued

Pages 1 & 2 of Bad Hair Day. I wonder where I can get one of those hats. Based on a story by Big Wishes. Go check him out on tumblr: https://tumblr.com/bigwishes

Summer Stories: The Workout pt. 2 The next morning James woke up in his bed at the sound of the front door opening. His rock hard morning wood poking against Mark’s ass. “JAMES?!” His dad was home and calling his name. Fuck. Not that he was ashamed he’d brought Mark home and pummeled his ass all night, but he’d still prefer his dad not catch him in bed with someone. James heard John’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. He tried to shake Mark awake but the poor guy was out cold after his long hard night. John knocked on James’s door a few times, waiting, and opened the door. “Oh. I’m sorry son. I didn’t realize you had company.” The deep rumbling sound of John’s voice must have woken up Mark. The man rolled over and his eyes almost popped out of his head at the sight of John. John was dressed business casual, but even that couldn’t hide his size. The special made khaki pants stretched finely over his huge quads, the reinforced buttons on his collared shirt pulling in either direction across his monster chest, the massive head of his bicep clearly visible under the long sleeves. “It’s okay dad.” And then James got a honey idea, “in fact we were just waking up and Mark here was about to help me with my morning wood. How’d you like for him to service your cock too. Show him what a real man looks like!” John rubbed his growing bulge in his pants, Mark said in shambles eyes the big daddy in the doorway. “You think he can handle both of us?” John asked. “What do you think Mark? How’d you like to worship two monster cocks at once?” “Please.” Was all Mark could manage. The incestuous taboo lost on him in the moment as he took in the sight before him. John began to strip down. First his shoes and socks, exposing his large feet. “Come here boy.” John said to Mark. Mark got up out of bed, his little hard on bouncing in front of him in anticipation. “Unbutton daddy’s shirt.” Mark worked at the top button, it was stretched so tight that it was hard for Mark to undo the buttons, “come on. If you wanna worship this big hairy daddy chest, you’ve gotta earn it.” John coaxed Mark through his troubles. Eventually Mark got the first few buttons undone, John’s wildly chest hair spilling out of the opening. Mark took a chance to rub it, it was so thick, but soft at the same time. Easy able to run his hands through the dark jungle of hair. “That’s it boy. Nice and slow.” James for his part was watching on the bed. The incredible size difference between Mark and John absolutely astounding. Mark was even smaller than James was at the beginning of the summer. The top of his head barely reached the bottom of John’s pecs, no doubt adding to the little guys difficulty in undoing the shirt. John was an absolute colossus, his lats spreading wider than Mark’s full wingspan, his huge thighs dwarfing Mark. James knew there was more muscle in one of his dad’s long hairy legs than Mark had on his whole body. James slowly jerked his cock, careful to edge and tease, but not to shoot. No. His load would be for Mark this morning. “Keep going. There’s still more to uncover.” John said, snapping Mark out of his trance. He continued to struggle, but finally he had undone each button on John’s untucked shirt. John shrugged the shirt off of his shoulders, exposing the many heads of his insane deltoid muscles, his abs, though covered in fur, we’re all 6 prominent, sticking out and covering his muscle gut. John raised a bicep and flexed, “you like big muscles?” John asked. Mark simply shook his head. John lowered his arm down, “feel it.” He said. Mark grabbed on to John’s bulging bicep, wrapping his arms around the bicep that was no doubt bigger than his waist, to worship it properly he had to practically hug it, “hold on!” John said, and he raised back up to his full height. Lifting Mark off the ground. He extended his arm out, unflexing his bicep, and the flexed it again. Repeating this over and over Mark’s body was being raised up and down my the sheer force of John’s flexing bicep. “Look at the strength. Feel that power.” John said, rubbing his bulge with his other hand. “I think it’s time you played with daddy’s thick prick.” Lowering Mark to the ground and standing back up, he motioned to what looked like a wadded up firehose threatening to bust the seams at the front of the tight khaki pants. “Hurry and get it out. I don’t want to ruin these pants by have my cock tear through them.” Mark looked in wonder. “You’ve actually done that?” He asked John. “What? Have my cock hulk out of some pants?” “Mhm” “Hell yeah. It’s pretty cool to see. Would you like to see it?” “Please.” “Well. I guess I can always buy more pants… get on your knees in front of me.” John directed. Mark complied, his height on his knees barely coming up past John’s knee. “How’s the view from down there?” John emphasized my jutting his pecs out, the shadow of them completely covering Mark. “Oh my god, you’re fucking huge!” “Yeah. I’m so fucking big. Biggest man you’ve ever seen. James! Get over here and work daddy’s nipples. Let’s show Mark here the power of a really daddy dick!” James got up off the bed, his leaking cock leading the way. John lowered his arms to his waistband, bunching up and flexing his pecs. James got to John and started to play with his big nipples, sucking on one and reaching across to twist the other. “Hell yeah son. Suck daddy’s big pecs. You fucking love those nipples don’t ya boy. Those big hairy bastards are so fucking sensitive.” As he said it his cock was still swelling in his pants, “rub it, kiss it, grab it. Feel that cock little man!” John said to Mark. Mark reached up and gently rubbed the huge package above him. He felt the thick tube of John’s cock, and it seemed to go on forever. “Fuck daddy. You’re so big.” Mark said. “Hell yeah dad. Show him how powerful your muscles are.” James said, continuing to worship his dad’s big body. *snap* *pop* The seams on John’s pants began to give out. *riiiiip* The zipper gave out, slipping apart. *thwop* The button on the pants popped off, flying over Marks head and hitting the opposing wall. “Here it comes! *snap* The underwear holding the cock back started to fail. “Fuck yeahhhhh!” John roared. Hitting a most muscular pose. The pants gave away, seams splitting from the crotch and down John’s thighs. His rock hard cock surged forward, pushing against his underwear. The fabric on the underwear stretched thin, and then ripped. John’s cock swelled up, growing to its full length, heavy of its own weight. John reached down and pulled at his pants and underwear, easily tearing them away from his body. Mark fell backwards into his elbows, the sight too much. He came. “Look at that son. He came just watching your daddy flex.” “Mmm. Fuck dad. You’re so fucking hot.” John reached down and picked Mark up off the floor and then sat him on the base of his cock. Mark was begging supported only by the strengths of John’s huge cock. Feeling the power of the huge member between his legs, rubbing against his weak ass, still leaking from last night. “Damn son. You filled him up good last night. Daddy’s proud!” “Thanks dad. His has just wouldn’t stop milking my cock.” “What a fucking stud!” John leaned down and kissed James deep, Mark could feel John’s cock twitching under him. “Let’s get this boy to bed.” John suggested, and he began to walk to the bed, balancing Mark on his cock. Mark was in complete shock and awe at the size of John, and specifically the huge dick that was holding him up. John tossed Mark on the bed, and he landed ass up. “Don’t move!” John commanded. He stood behind the little man whose hole was exposed. John rubbed a thick calloused finger along Mark’s hole, inserting it and eliciting a moan from Mark. “Oh yeah. That’s a fucking nice hole.” John pulled his finger out, grabbed his cock with both hands and began to smack it against Mark’s ass and back. The length making it halfway up Mark’s back. “Fuck daddy. It’s so big. So fucking hard.” Mark said as he felt the heavy weight of John’s daddy dick smacking against his abused ass. “You ready to get fucked?” John said. Mark quickly flipped over, he looked terrified. “That thing would kill me!” Mark said. “I know. It would split you in half. James is going to fuck you while you worship this cock.” Mark drooled, “yes sir.” As he returned to his position on all fours. James lined his cock up. Marks hole still wet and loose from the night before. He slowly slid in his cock. Mark started to moan but was interrupted by John shoving his huge cock at Marks mouth. His mouth wasn’t even big enough to swallow the whole head, but he was able to work the slit at the head of John’s cock. “That’s it boy. Work daddy’s cock. Fuck. Your tiny hands feel so good on that huge prick!” Mark could only mumble a muffled praise as James slammed his cock into his hole, shoving him forward deeper into his dad’s erect dick. “Fuck dad. Look at how big we are. He can’t even suck your cock right!” “Let’s not forget who hasn’t even taken this whole cock in their ass son!” John replied, flexing his muscles for emphasis. Something about that turned James on even more and he pummeled Mark’s hole. The wet slapping sound of last nights cum and James’s huge balls connecting to Mark’s tiny ass. “Fuck dad. I think I’m going to cum.” James said. “Let’s cum at the same time. Shove cum in both ends of this bitch at the same time!” The two muscle gods leaned forward and kissed, Mark’s frail body squashed between them. With body hands he could barely make a dent of John’s cock, and James was fucking him silly. Slamming in and out, his hole on fire from the huge intruder. “Ready son?” “Ready!” Then they came. James shoving load after load into Mark’s already full ass. John quickly filling up Mark’s waiting mouth and having to settle for a massive facial. The two hunks grunted and groaned as they dominated and covered Mark in their thick loads. Marks twitched and writhed, the two muscle gods pumping him and covering him full of cum from each end. John stood up from the bed. Wiping a single drop of sweat from his brow, “that was nice. But I need to shower and head out. I have a busy day today. You two have fun now.” James pulled his cock out of Mark, the thick cum leaking from his ass and sticking from James’s cock head to Mark’s hole. James slapped his hard cock back and forth against Mark’s hole, the wet sloppy noise of the huge load filling the room. James dropped his heavy body on the bed and sprawled out. Mark moved quickly to avoid being pushed off the bed. “So. That was your dad?” Mark said, still in a daze. “Yeah. Pretty fucking hot right?” “You’re both so fucking big. I was honestly scared. But I feel so good.” “Why don’t we go shower and you can get going. If you keep that little ass around here much longer there’s no telling how many loads you’ll take today.” Mark got so hot at the thought of being these two men’s cumdump, but he knew he needed to get to work that afternoon. James and Mark showered, Mark taking his time feeling all of James’s huge muscles. They dressed and headed downstairs where John was preparing breakfast. “Good morning again boys. Are you two hungry?” James quickly sat down at the table, but Mark stayed near the door. “I actually have to go. I need to. Uh. Take care of myself before work. But thank you both for, uh, letting me stay.” “Of course!” John said, “come back over any time. You did a good job working my cock this morning.” “I agree,” James started, “I’ll be hitting you up soon!” Mark blushed and hurried out the front door. “What a cute little piece of ass. Where’d you meet him?” John asked. “He works….” James paused, feeling awkward to tell his dad he met Mark at the sex toy shop, “he works at the mall. I met him early this summer but we reconnected at the bars last night.” “Well. You certainly know how to pick em’. First Luke and now him. You have an eye for some hot ass.” “That’s probably why I’d rather fuck around with you all day, dad.” John blushed. “Makes me feel good that my super stud of a son thinks his daddy is so hot. Now. Here. Eat up. When I said I was busy today I meant that I’m working out all day today to make up for lost time. You’re coming with me too.” James got hard thinking about working out with John all day, but then he had a thought. “Dad?” “Yes?” “I actually have something to show you when we’re done. In the garage. I think it’s where we should workout today.” John looked at James confused, “what do you mean?” “I’m not sure how to explain it without showing you.” The two put on their respective jockstraps and some shorts, both decided to forego a shirt for the day. James led the way to the garage, excited to finally test John’s strength. He knew he should invite Frank, but today he wanted his daddy to himself. It was a humid day, the air thick with moisture as the two made their way to the garage. Inside the garage the stagnant air was even hotter. They’d only walked from the house to the garage but James could feed sweat beading on his brow, and looking back he could see John’s hairy chest was damp. In the back of the garage, James pushed aside boxes and revealed his invention. John gathered his eyebrows in a look of confusion, “what the fuck is that?” He asked. It’s a machine that’s going to give you a run for your money old man. James flashed a quick smile at his dad, and then set to programming the machine. “This is a tension weight machine, everything is triple reinforced, and the max weight is somewhere around 10,000lbs for for much it can put out. The camera array and scale floor that your measurements at you workout.” James stood back, proud of his machine. “Very impressive. I guess you wanna see what your old man can do, eh?” “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.” James had to adjust his bulge as John’s big body lumbered into the machine. “Alright dad. Right now you weigh…630lbs.” It took James’s breath away. His dad was pound for pound the largest bodybuilder alive. Fuck. “You’re sure that things right? I feel much bigger than that!” John flexed his bicep and gently kissed it. “Alright. Lay on the bench. The way it works is you’ll unrack the bar and start to lift. The algorithm will continue to up the tension, and therefore the weight, until you max out. Once you’ve maxed out, it will decrease tension to a rep weight. Keep going until it beeps. When it beeps that means that your chest is at its maximum pumped size. After that the cameras will take the measurement and it will put out your maximum bench weight and chest measurement.” “Pretty fancy boy. You ready to cum watching daddy break your machine?” John was so cocky, but James knew he only talked like that because he knew it drove James fucking wild. John lay down, gripping the weight, and began to pump. James watched the screen read-out. As John continued his slow, methodical reps, the weight began to increase bit by bit. 100, 300, 500, 800, it just seemed to keep rising. James’s cock was leaking so much the front of his jockstrap was soaked. John lay on the bench, pumping the ever increasing weight. His body shimmering and glistening with sweat. James couldn’t help himself. He walked around and straddled John’s body. He began to rub John’s enormous, impossibly hard pecs. The giant balloons of muscle pumping with blood and dripping with power. John seemed to still be moving through the weight with ease. James caressed the thick mounds of flesh, feeling them contract and expand as John pushed to failure. James cock begged for release as he worshipped John’s massive expanding chest, his precum making a sticky pool on his dad’s rock hard gut. John pushed and pumped, his chest muscles striating, the veins popping, sweat running down the muscle into the deep valley between his thick pecs. His nipples protruding out, begging for attention. Suddenly John started to strain. His reps slowing, his arms shaking, his chest swelling and turning red with strain and blood rushing to fill the muscles. Then John paused, and the machine beeped. James quickly dismounted and he gasped as he read the readout. “4,215lbs. Chest measurement. 127 inches.” James mouth went dry. John sat up from the bench, his impossibly large frame taking up every bit of space, his chest heaving, “what’s next?” “Biceps.” James answered, doing everything he could to keep his hands off his own cock. He caught a glance of his dad’s dick in his pouch. Perfectly packaged, bulging and powerful, it looked to be semi-hard. The fabric straining to contain it, but John wasn’t fully hard, yet. The seat adjusted for bicep curls and John grasped the available handles and did a few precursors pumps. The machine responding in kind. “Come over here, feels your dad’s big arms while I show you some real power.” James moved around as John strained the machine as it increased pound by pound. His huge arms swelling, veins exploding under the surface of the paper thin skin. His huge bicep head splitting perfectly, and on the release, his massive tricep muscle hanging heavily. James approached John as the weight increased. He tried to grab his dads arm, but he couldn’t, even with both of his huge hands, cover the insane peak of John’s inhumane bicep. Then he licked it, the sweat creating the perfect salty flavor. James kissed, licks, grilled and grabbed John’s bicep as he repped the increasing weight, the big muscle swelling bigger and bigger with each pump. John grunted, pushing against the increasing force of the hydraulic weight. John’s face contorted as he used every big of strength he had, and the machine beeped. James moved to the output panel, “840lbs. 52” arms.” John heaved as he stood up. Sweat dripping off his body, his muscles glistening in the bright sunlight coming through the windows in the hot garage. “What’s. Next.” John said. His deep baritone voice vibrating James’s body. He was clearly worked up, both physically and sexually. Something about showing off his immense power for his son, and the sheer determination to push his limits. “Squats.” James said. So close to cumming just at the sight of his dads big sweaty body. James jockstrap begging for him to take his dick out and release his load. John positioned himself in the contraption, spreading his legs, working into the perfect squat form. He unracked the bar and began his slow descent. Then, he stood back up. James watched as, with each squat, the straps on John’s jockstrap stretched further and further, his massive glutes expanding and forcing the fabric to begin to fray. James wasn’t sure they’d make it through the whole workout. In the front, John’s cock was growing hard, the big mushroom head swelling and becoming more defined in the right pouch. As his cock pushed out the front of the jock, his ass pushed out the back. The fabric was inches away from disintegrating. John began to grunt and groan. “Fuck. Almost there. I can fucking feel it!” Then the machine beeped. “3800lbs dad.” “What are the measurements boy?” John asked cockily as he stood in the center of the machine. Sweat dripping from his body dripping from his heavy pec shelf, running down his hairy rock solid guy between the grooves of his extended abs, and disappearing into the pouch where his dad’s huge cock waited, impatiently. “64” waist. 73.6” quads.” “That’s what I’m fuckin talkin’ about!” John boomed, the old windows on the garage shaking at the sudden loud baritone. “Say son, would that machine measure ALL of my muscles?” “Sure dad. It gives read outs on whatever muscle you’re working at the time.” James was thinking about John doing a back without next, or maybe his claves. In a split second John grabbed the jockstrap and tore the tortured fabric from his body. John’s cock rose up. Engorged with blood, the angry veins swelling along the entire length. It was so heavy it no longer stood up straight, weighed down by its own weight. His heavy balls pushed forward by his unreal quads. It wasn’t the first time James had seen John’s cock, but something about knowing how big John was exactly, seeing him work godly amounts of weight, seeing him drip with sweat and power, the musky smell of him filling the garage. “Come over here boy. Hell daddy work this cock. I wanna know how big the longest, hardest dick in the world is!” James complied. Crawling on his knees in front of John. He grasped the length with both of his hands, with still over half of it uncovered and his hands unable to completely grip around the thick bull cock. “Kiss it!” John said. James leaned forward to kiss the head, which was so large James couldn’t see it fitting in his mouth. As he got closer, John flexed his cock, the blood pumping into the massive organ pushed James’s hands apart, and a big load of precum burped out and covered James’s face. “Mmm daddy. You taste so good, so much fucking cum in those big hairy balls!” “Lick em’.” John directed. James cradled his dad’s sack in his hands, each nut so large that he could only handle one at a time. He licked the salty flavor from his dad’s balls. Unbelievable that this was where he came from. He was inside these massive balls before, and now he was worshiping his dad’s powerful body. “Son.” John said between pants, “I think you’re ready.” Not wanting to take the balls out of his mouth, but curious all the same, James asked. “Ready for what?” “I think you’re big enough and strong enough now to take all of daddy’s fat fucking cock. You worked hard all summer boy. Now you’re gunna get what you deserve!” James looked up, partial terror in his eyes as his dad’s massive organ dominated his field of view, but also extreme taboo lust overpowering everything else. “Please daddy. Please breed me with that big daddy dick.” “Yeah boy, you want daddy to fuck you deep and hard?” “Yes please daddy. Show me how a real man fucks. “Fuck boy. You want this cock inside you? Huh?! You want the cock that gave you life to fill you up completely?” “Yes sir daddy. I want to feel your cock break me in half.” “Come here!” John said as he quickly bent over and picked James up off the ground, “we’re going inside. You’re gunna work for this!”

finals have been kicking my ass, but they’re over and now it’s time to get back to what really matters Summer Stories: The Workout pt. 1 Summer was almost over. The days were still long and hot, but August had arrived, and with it, preparation to go back to school for James. John had not mentioned James staying at home again since their camping trip almost a month ago, the way James saw it, John knew by James keeping quiet that was his way of saying, “I’ll be going back to school.” It pained James to think of leaving his dad, his new life, leaving it all behind, but he knew he’d always be able to move home after college and spend the rest of his life doing things he loved. James rolled out of his dad’s bed. John had snuck out sometime before. James walked downstairs in only his underwear. He stopped in the bathroom to take a piss, but while there he had to admire his body in the mirror. He stepped on the scale. 405lbs. James flexed a most muscular in the mirror. His 80” chest blowing up to insane proportions, his 32” arms crisscrossing with veins. He had began to work out his core more, returning were his abs, but now they were much larger, each one about the size of his palm. James was proud of his new body too, but he’d been so distracted by his own personal mission to explode in size that he had neglected hanging out with friends, or even Luke for weeks. Not that it mattered if he was with Luke or not, Luke had seemed to make it very clear that he had no interest in a relationship, and less and less he responded to James’s messages. The only true replies he got were when he send pictures of his body. He felt a loss of connection, and while he was bummed, he also knew he was a huge jacked stud who could probably have anyone he wanted. Between John and Frank, James was satisfied sexually, most days he was satisfied over and over again. But being young and in love was something he yearned for. I guess no matter how much muscle you pack into a body, the personality of a nerdy gay kid would always linger below the surface. James headed downstairs, his thick bulge bouncing around in the stretched out briefs. James had started to wear John’s old clothes. He found something so incredibly hot about wearing his dad’s huge stretched out clothes and filling them out himself. The only parts he still hadn’t really grown into was the chest and package of his dad’s old clothes. John had just so much size in those two areas that James found it hard to compete, but he didn’t mind because he got to worship his dad’s every growing pecs and his ever hard cock as he pleased now. Still. John had yet to fuck him again since the camping trip, James was damn near about explode thinking about how much he wanted his dad to fuck his brains out. Coming into the kitchen he expected to see his oversized dad sitting at the table like he was most mornings. But John wasn’t there. Odd? Maybe he was outside doing an early morning workout. James quickly finished a protein shake and a few meal prepped breakfast burritos, then he went outside to check the junkyard. John wasn’t there either. James pulled out his phone and checked. No messages either. It was very very unlike his dad now a days to disappear like this, and James began to worry. Running back into the house he went upstairs to the bedroom to see if his dad had his phone with him, it wasn’t on the charger, so he must have it with him. It was then that James noticed the note on the bedside table. Jesus Christ. His dad was a literal walking god amongst men, but he still insisted on not learning how to use his cellphone. The note read: *James, I’m so sorry to leave so suddenly this morning. I had forgotten about a planned meeting a few hours away. I should be back by tonight, possibly tomorrow morning depending on how the meeting goes. Call me when you get this to let me know. I’ll see you soon! -J* For fucks sake. I guess as much as James couldn’t change his nerdy little personality in one summer he shouldn’t expect his dad to change his workaholic habits so quickly either. James called his dad, but it went to voicemail, “Hey dad. Just letting you know I got your note. I’m a little upset you left so quickly. I think you should send me some pics or videos of yourself in your hotel room tonight if you have to stay. You know. To make it up to me. Anyway. I’ll see you later. Love you. Bye.” James clicked the phone and ended the call. If there was one function John had gotten down Pat it was the camera. John knew all his best angles and he knew how to make a man’s cock leak with just one slight slutty picture. While he was at it, he texted his friends inviting them to go out to the bar tonight, it had been a while and it was about time they catch up. An intrusive thought passed his mind as well, he wanted to text the skinny cashier from Dark Desires and invite him out tonight. James had ignored him all summer, but the thought of that little twink on his big cock got him so horny. James searched for his contact but couldn’t find it. Fuck. He realized he’d never saved it. But that was alright, he knew exactly where to find Mark. James got dressed, he chose a white shirt that was just a hair too small, it’s seams stretched over his biceps, the material bunched up under his heavy pecs, and you could make out his v-taper. He paired it with a pair of 5” inseam shorts. He would have gone shorter, but if he was in public and got hard anything smaller would get him arrested. He loved the way the fabric hugged his ample ass, and in the front his basket was on full display. Oh yeah, Mark was in for a treat. James left and hopped into his car when his phone rang, it was John, “Son. I’m so sorry!” “It’s okay dad, I understand.” “I promise I’m trying to be there for you more. I just couldn’t miss this appointment.” “Dad. It’s okay. You let me know, and you’ll be back tomorrow.” “Well. I’m still sorry, and to prove it to you I’m going to send you something really hot tonight.” “So. You aren’t coming home today?” “No. This assignment is a lot harder than I thought it would be, it’s taking me a bit longer. But I WILL be home tomorrow.” “Well. As long as you send me the video consider yourself forgiven.” “Do you have any plans for tonight, James?” “I was going to go out to the bar with some friends, nothing major.” “We’ll have fun and be safe. If you need a DD call Frank, no drinking and driving!” “I would never dad!” “Yeah you wouldn’t, because if you did I’d bend you over and whoop your ass so hard.” “Is that supposed to be a threat or a tease?” James asked slyly. “Fuck. I wish I could do this right now but I can’t get hard right now. Just be ready for a show tonight when I send you that video!” “Alright dad. I’ll talk to you later.” “Don’t forget to workout today son, it’s chest day!” “How could I forget? Bye dad, love you.” “Bye James, love you too. I’ll see you tomorrow.” James hung up the phone and saw his friends had all already replied, tonight was a go. James pulled out of the driveway and headed to the mall, he really hoped Mark was working today. On the drive there James rode with his window down, flexing his pecs and biceps, trying to pump some blood into them so they were extra juicy for Mark. Entering the mall parking lot James was nervous. Why was he nervous? Mark had come on to him before. He didn’t need to worry. But worry he did. Even though he was 400lbs of hunky sex appeal, again, he was still that same guy who had only ever flirted with like 3 guys in his whole life. His palms were sweaty, his legs were shakey. He entered the mall. Everyone he passed was giving him the eye, looking him up and down, men were envious, women were turned on, everyone wanted to fuck him or be fucked by him. The attention boosted his confidence. He straightened his back, pulled his shoulders back, stuck his chest out. He was confident. James walked up to Dark Desires. The bouncer outside was different than before, but he was still a solid man, he looked like he lifted some seriously heavy weight. A big barrel chest and his arms were folded to accentuate their size. James dwarfed him. The man waved him through without checking his ID, and James walked didn’t the dark hallway. He entered into the main room. They had expanded their stock since the beginning of the summer. James didn’t see an employee around, he busied himself looking at the mens thongs, jock straps, underwear, the ones that stuck out to him was a pair of gag underwear. They were grey and had an elephant on them, the large ears sewn onto the side, and the trunk of the elephant on the pouch. He picked them up and inspected the pouch. It looked like it would be a tight squeeze but he thought that his fat cock would fill it out nicely. Then he imagined John putting them on. The stretchy material giving in to his size, his hard cock exploding out of the gag underwear. “Excuse me sir, do you need help with anything?” James spun around and there was Mark, he blushed. “Oh. Uh. I um. I was wondering if I could try these on to make sure they fit before I buy them?” “Well. We don’t really let people do that with underwear.” Mark said, biting his lip and looking James up and down, “but I think I can make an exception if you’d like my opinion on how they look on you.” “Deal.” James said. Mark led James to the back of the store, the lights were dim, and there were several rooms with curtains for doors. “Here. Try them on in here. There are mirrors on the walls, let me know when you’re done and I’ll come in and let you know if you should buy them or not.” James entered into the room. It was small, and because of his big size he had to do as his dad and Frank do and go in sideways. Once inside he stripped his clothes off. He examined his body in the mirror. Fuck. He looked huge. He opened his phone and pulled up a picture his dad had sent him. The phone was on the ground and the camera was facing up. From that angle what you could see of John was his massive legs going up, his huge heavy cock hanging low between them, and his huge pec overhang at the top of the screen, his plump nipples pointing straight down at the camera. James used to it to pump his cock up a bit and then he slid on the elephant underwear. Positioning his cock into the trunk. He filled out the underwear, and then some. He loved the way his ass stretched the fabric in the back, and his cock making the elephant trunk stretch obscenely. “Alright. Come in!” James called to Mark. Mark entered the booth and his jaw hit the floor. James was standing with his hands on his hips, stretching his lats, flexing his quads, and the underwear showing off everything it needed to. James’s cock head was swollen and the thought of impressive Mark making his cock twitch. “Well?” James asked. Mark tried to say something but he stuttered instead. “You don’t like them?” James said, feigning sadness. “You’re fucking huge dude!” Mark blurted out. “But do the underwear look okay? I’m trying to impress someone.” “You fill them out perfectly. Whoever you’re trying to impress is very lucky.” Mark’s cock was about to explode in his pants looking at James. “Really? You don’t think they look silly the way they’re stretched out so much? I mean you can barely tell it’s supposed to be an elephant?” James was thoroughly enjoying watching Mark drool over his body. “What about the back?” James said turning around and cupping his huge ass, “how does it look from the back?” James flexed and unflexed his ass cheeks causing them to bounce, and then James slowly squatted down, the fabric making audible snaps as James snapped seams. The underwear surprisingly held though, then standing back up the underwear bunched up in his crack. James could see Marks reaction in the mirror reflection, the little man was struggling hard to control himself, and James was getting harder by the second. His fat cock pushing the front of the underwear out more and more, causing the underwear to go further into his ass. “They look…perfect.” Mark said dryly. “Thanks man. I’ll take them. You can leave now so I can change. I’ll be out to checkout soon!” James was learning to be such a good tease, his nerves calm as his confidence swelled along with his cock. Mark quickly ran from the room, no doubt to avoid the cum stain in his pants from getting any larger. James took the underwear off and put his clothes back on, finding it difficult to get his cock stuffed back into his shorts and settle for tucking it up in the waistband of his pants. It was now big enough that it rose well above his bellybutton and his tight shirt did little to hide the thick tube of meat resting against his stomach. If James raised his arms up, the shirt would come up and a bit of his cock was exposed. He adjusted once more and left the room, heading for the checkout. He approached the checkout counter where Mark was waiting. “Just these today, sir?” Mark said. “Actually. I was hoping to get something else.” James said, his nerves returning, “Could I get your number?” “Why so you can ghost me again?” Mark said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t meaning to. I lost the receipt before I saved the number.” James was stumbling over his words. This hot little twink really got him going. “Well. How could I say no to such a fucking stud?” James checked out, his cock refusing to soften as it bulged out the front of his shirt. “I’m going out tonight, if you’d like to come?” James offered. “I’d love to come…uh, come with you.” James stretched his arms up, exposing the few inches of his rock hard cock between his waistband and the bottom of his shirt. Marks eyes almost popped out of his head. “Oh. And thanks for the advice on the underwear. I really think they’re going to impress.” With that James hurried out of the store and to his car. Heart pounding with excitement. He immediately texted Mark the address for the bar. Mark responded equally fast. James went home and decided to edge his cock, he was going to give Mark the time of his life. A few hours later James was still edging his cock. He’d worked out and was extra horny. He checked the time and it was time for him to get ready. He decided to go with a pair of short khaki shirts and a button up shirt, strategically unbuttoned to show off the top of his huge chest, but with enough buttons to pull slightly because of his size. He called a cab and headed to the bar to meet his friends and Mark. Walking in he garnered stares again from every corner of the room. He walked back to the table his friends had claimed and he tried to sit down. His mass taking up the space of two regular people, he settled for sitting on the outside and letting his large left leg and lat hang out of the booth. Mark wasn’t here yet, James texted him, Mark replied quickly again, *im walking in right now where are you and you’re friends?* James replied, *were in the very back, you can’t miss us!” Indeed, Mark couldn’t miss James’s oversized body in the crowd of people. He walked up to James and realized there was no room for him at the table, but Mark had an idea, “James. Why don’t we go get some drinks at the bar for everyone?” The rest of the night was a blur. James remembered grinding his big body against Mark, his friends cheering him on. Random people on in the bar groping and feeling his biceps. Somehow he and Mark ended up at James’s house. That was when James sobered up enough to focus on what he wanted. As soon as they walked in the door, James scooped Mark up in his arms and began to kiss him. The big man grinding Mark’s smaller body against his. James carried Mark upstairs and tossed him on the bed. Mark laid back on the bed. Watching as James undressed. “Fuck. You’re so fucking hot!” Mark said, starting to stroke his still clothed cock. “Yeah? Do my big muscles turn you on?” James unbuttoned the top button of his jeans. “You’re the biggest man I’ve ever seen.” Mark replied, he quickly took off his pants and underwear and laid on the bed in only his shirt. James flexed his cock, pumping blood into his thick meat. As it inflated it pushed against his pants zipper, the force of the big muscle was forcing the zipper down, demanding to be released. His bulge finally broke free and rested on the outside of his pants, splitting his fly open with its large size. “Holy shit.” Mark said, he was close to cumming already. “Ah ah ah.” James said, “you don’t cum until I tell you to cum, got it?” James felt so powerful. Frank and his father were always so dominant, he was enjoying this massive size difference and role reversal. Mark pulled his hands away from his tiny cock. James struggled and pushed his pants down over his thighs, the seams popping and giving out as he struggled to pull himself out of the tight pants. He finally slipped out of the pants and stood back up to his full height. “You ready for more?” James said, biting his lip seductively. Mark couldn’t speak, he only shook his head in approval. James grabbed either side of his button up shirt, then he shot a wink at Mark as he pulled. She shirt burst open, his muscles pouring and bulging out as he tore the shirt to shreds. Down the middle first, and then James grabbed on each side and ripped the sleeves off. Following, he spread his lats to inhuman width and split the shirt down his back, leaving the fabric strewn over his body in tattered remains strewn across the expanse of his big body. Mark was laying on the bed still. His face contorted as if he were in pain. “What’s wrong?” James asked, quickly concerned. “I’m sorry. I’m really really trying not to cum.” Mark admitted. James pulled the rest of his shirt off. Standing only in his underwear, his big bulge throbbing a bit larger with each pump of blood. James sauntered closer to Mark. With one strong hand he pushed Mark flat on the bed, and James climbed on top of Mark. Straddling Mark’s body with each big thigh on either side of Mark’s skinny body. Each thigh was larger than Mark’s tiny waist. James grabbed onto his bulge and lifted it up as he lowered himself onto Mark, ensuring that his cock and balls didn’t touch Mark’s pretty face. James settled down. Towering over Mark, he squeezed Mark’s sides with his thighs, not enough to hurt him, but enough that he was stuck in place, his arms trapped between his body and James’s rock hard thighs. James reached back with the hand that wasn’t supporting his thick cock, and he gently stroked Mark’s cock. “Ohhhhh!” Mark moaned, “please James. Please god let me cum pleaseee!” Mark begged. James dropped his still covered bulge heavily on to Mark’s face, at the same time he tugged on Marks balls, they both fit easily into James’s now large hand. “Cum!” James commanded. Marks body writhed and wriggled under James. James felt the warm streams of cum hitting the small of his back. James grabbed his cock, his whole hand covering Mark’s cock. James gripped and stroked Mark’s sensitive cock, the little man struggling in pleasure under James’s heavy weight, unable to move. James’s cock immediately got hard as a rock watching Mark fight against waves of unimaginable pleasure. James released his thighs grip on Mark’s arms. “Grab my cock.” He commanded. Mark reached up. He stared at the huge cock hard in front of his face. He pulled down James’s underwear, struggling to get the underwear over his full length and the swollen head of James’s cock. “Let me help you.” James reached down and freed his cock. Ripping his underwear in two so he didn’t need to move. James’s cock stood stiff as it slapped up against his abs. His precum sticking in the deep grooves between each ab. “Fuck.” Mark said. His whole field of vision taken up be big full balls and cock. “Worship it!” James said. Mark reached up and grabbed James’s cock with both hands, struggling against the strong muscle to pull it down to his mouth. “Start with my balls.” James said. Scooting forward he positioned his balls over Mark’s waiting mouth. Each ball was too full to fit comfortably in Mark’s mouth, so he settled on licking and sucking on what he could manage. James jerking his cock over Mark’s head. “Please baby. Let me fuck you!” James said. Mark pulled back from the huge testicles, “you’re so big.” “Don’t worry. I’ll prepare your sweet hole. I’ll go easy. Come on. You knowwww you want to feel me filling up your hot tight ass.” “Let’s see how well you prep me big boy. Then maybe.” James moved with a speed and agility that shocked Mark. Quickly flipping Mark over, jumping off the bed, and raising Mark’s ass in the air. James opened his bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of poppers, some lube, and a dildo. The dildo was about 6.5 inches, very average sized. James used it like a butt plug due to his huge size, but it would be perfect to loosen up Mark. He handed the poppers to Mark, and got down to work. He dove his face into Marks ass, working his right home with his strong tongue. He worked a finger in, then two. Mark began to inhale on the poppers. James felt the tight hole loosen up. James liberally applied lube to the hole and to the dildo. Working slowly, James pushed he dildo slowly into Mark’s hole. “Fuck it feels so good.” Mark moaned. “Yeah. Just wait for the real thing!” James said, he twisted the dildo around, slowly inserting it in and out of Mark’s hole. “Can I please feel your muscles?” Mark was practically drooling as he watched James’s body ripple and flex over his shoulder. “Absolutely, but this…” James indicated the dildo by pushing it completely in so the suction cup bottom was the only part left in his hole, “…says inside.” James laid down on his bed beside Mark, and Mark climbed on his hard body. Planting his lubed up cheeks directly over James’s abs, and resting James’s cock against his back. Mark immediately felt the hot sticky precum leaking down his back. Slowly dripping down and sinking into his crack. James flexed a double bicep pose while laying down, pushing his lats out. “Kiss it.” James said as he pulled Mark’s face to his bicep. Mark licked and kissed the cannon in front of him. Licking up and down the huge vein that snakes across the peak of his bicep. Squeezing the large heavy mass that made up James’s tricep, caressing the deep horseshoe shaped groove in the muscle. James gently guided Mark’s head to his armpit, “yeahhh, smell it!” Mark inhaled deeply, taking in James’s musky scent, his cologne and the sweat from dancing in a crowded bar mixing to a deep intoxicating scent and taste. Mark was grinding his cock against James. “Yeah little guy. You like these big muscles? You like my huge fucking arms?” “Oh fuck yeah!” Mark heaved. “Get ready for something even better!” James said, and he grabbed Mark’s head on either side and guided him to his chest. James firmly planted Mark down into the deep striated crevice between his chest, as he pushed Mark down, he bounced and flexed his pecs, “hell yeah, I’ll smother you in these giant muscle tits!” Mark gripped and grabbed at the massive muscles surrounding his face, eventually twisting James’s nipples. James responded much like his daddy, he moaned deep and bucked his hips, shooting more pre onto Mark’s back. “You like your nipples played with big boy?” Mark mumbled into James’s sweaty bouncing pecs. “You do that again and I’m going to fuck you!” James playfully threatened. “Oh yeah?” Mark said with a devilish grin, and he grabbed James’s nipples hard and tugged at them with all he had. James roared. Throwing Mark off him and shoving him face down onto the bed with his face in a pillow. James placed a big hand in between his shoulder blades holding him down, and with the other hand he pulled out the dildo. James leaned in close and whispered into Mark’s ear, “can I fuck you?” “Yes!” Mark barked. James continued to hold down Mark, in the other hand he gripped his cock, and he slapped it against Mark’s ass. Leaving sticky streams of precum from his fat head all over Mark’s tight ass. “Oh fuck. This is going to feel so good!” James said, slowly rubbing his length along Mark’s crack. James dropped a big glob of spit onto his cock head, and popped it into Mark. The smaller man moaned into the pillow, biting it, but raising his ass up higher in response, taking in more and more of James’s cock. James slowly inserted the cock. Coaching Mark through it as he went. “Good boy. You’re doing so good. Just relax. Your ass is so tight and warm. Fuck I love that ass. Come on baby you’re doing so good. Take that fat cock!” James bottomed out. His heavy balls finally making contact with Mark’s ass. “All the way in.” James said. Showing his control he flipped Mark over onto his back, not letting his cock leave the slippery hole. James then laid down on the bed and put Mark sitting on his cock. “Now.” James started, “ride it!” Mark leaned forward grabbing on to James’s flexed biceps for support and slowly raised and lowered his ass. “Fuck dude. It’s so fucking thick!” Mark hollered. “Yeah it is. Feel it fill you up fucckkkk!” James said. Mark began to move faster, working the full length of James’s cock. “Oh fuck. Keep it up! I’m getting close!” James said. With that, James grabbed Mark at his waist and held him up so that Mark was still on his cock, but only the head was in. James then positioned his legs and began to thrust into Mark. Going completely in and pulling back out to the head. Over and over James pummeled Mark’s hole. Marks cock bounced up and down with the force of James ruining his hole. “Cum for me. Cum while I fuck your hole!” James said. Mark’s body twitched, his head went back, his eyes rolled, and his cock began to shoot out ropes of cum on to James’s body. Yeah thrust James put into him sent another volley of cum from his cock. “Oh yeahhhhh!” James said, shoving his cock deep into Mark one last time, his cock swelling and it began to pump a huge load into Mark. “Fuck. So. Much. Cum!” Mark said. “Yeahhhh. Fuck. I can’t stop!” James began to buck his hips. Pumping more and more cum into Mark’s hole. James lifted Mark off his cock, just the head was touching his ass. James continued to pump his load onto Mark, covering his hole. “Get ready!” And James dropped Mark all the way back down on his cock, holding him down onto it, Mark screaming with pleasure as his cock came again. James moved Mark slowly up and down his still hard cock. “Play with my nipples!” James demanded, “play with my nipples and ride my cock, show me how much you want my next load!” Mark grabbed on to James’ large pecs for stability and began to bounce up and down on the huge cock invading his hole. Mark felt the the hardness of James’s cock in his ass, the ridge of his cock rubbing against Mark’s prostate. “Yeah. Ride that cock! I can feel your hole twitching. Youre close. CUM AGAIN!” James yelled as he gripped Marks hips, expertly held mark in place again, this time rhythmically grinding his cock perfectly so that his head rubbed against Marks prostate. “Ahhhhh. Fuck!!!” Mark yelled as he shot a dry load, the little man’s balls already empty from the amount of cum James had fucked out of him. “Yeah baby. Come on. I’m so. Close.” Mark squeezed and released his sphincter muscles, gripping James’s cock and then releasing. The huge load James put in his ass earlier so wet and stimulating. “Arghhhhhhh” James roared, his deep voice vibrating the bones in Marks small body. James pulled Mark off his cock, quickly turning him around with his immense strength, positioning Marks face directly in front of his huge engorged cock. Mark grabbed it with both hands as James held him in place, then the cum came. Shot after shot hit Mark directly in the face. One after another the volleys of cum soaked every inch of Mark’s face and torso, “Yeah cum for me big boy!” “Oh yeah!!!!! Take that load bitch!” James yelled. Mark licked his lips, then licked the head of James’s dick. James sat James down on the bed, the smaller man dripping with James’s thick gooey load. “Fuck you’re hot!” James said. “Me?! You’re such a muscle hunk!” Mark replied. “Maybe we should go shower, you look a little messy!” James said, tussling Mark’s hair playfully. James led the way to the shower. Turning it on and climbing in, sitting down on the seat. “Come on, get in.” James said encouraging Mark. Mark tentatively stepped into the shower. “I just can’t get over how big you are.” Mark said, standing under the heavy flow of water. “I have a pretty good trainer.” James replied, thinking of John’s unimaginable size and strength. His cock getting hard just thinking about his daddy’s muscles. “I’ll say. Does your trainer also work out that huge dick of yours.” Mark joked as he playfully grabbed James’s stiffening cock. “Oh he does. He trains every muscle long and hard.” James teased as he swung his cock back and smacked it against Marks body with a satisfying wet *thwack*. The two washed each other, Mark taking his time feeling up James’s 400+lb body, and James tenderly massaging the soap into Mark’s small frame, sure to get every drop of his massive load out of Mark’s hair, but still feeling the cum inside his hole. They retired to James’s bed. Sleeping nude, James holding on to Mark, and Mark relaxing into the biggest muscle man he’s ever known.

It was 2 o’clock in the morning, and Fred was finishing an hour of flexing in his mirrored posing room. He hadn’t been able to sleep. Earlier that day, he’d received the results of blood tests and medical scans he’d had done that week. Apparently, he had a series of tiny, unusual growths on his pituitary gland, which the doctors said, although they’d never seen anything quite like it, might explain his unprecedented muscle growth and off the chart hormone levels. They recommended starting chemo and radiation treatments immediately, and eventually surgery. He would slowly lose all his new growth. Fred looked at himself in the mirrors. Currently holding 469lbs of hard mass, his dick throbbed at his own reflection. An ‘aberration’ is what one of the doctors had called him. Fred smiled. He liked being an aberration. He wanted to be more of one, aching in his bones to pass the 500 pound mark, while staying at 2 percent body fat. He flexed his 30” arm and admired the deep split that ran up and across his peak. He strummed the deep ridges of his eight bread loaf sized abs. He heaved out his pecs and made hundreds of striations dance, tight as harp strings, up and down his huge slabs. He had trained himself to have complete muscle control. He had watched so many YouTube videos of pro bodybuilders’ posing routines, he knew every move, and now he made the pros look like punks. Little, puny punks. Sweat dripped off his nips, his nose, his chin, and poured from his pits, down his enormous lats, as he flexed harder and harder. His massive, naked body glistened under the hot bright lights he’d installed in the former bedroom, highlighting every crevice and mound of muscle. No way was he going to compromise all his hard work with chemo treatments. He flexed his 44” quads. Oh yeah, the fucking tumors were staying! Triggering higher and higher levels of hormones. Feeding his growth. Seventy-five years old, and growing like an adolescent rhino. How many years did he have left anyway. Might as well go out as a beast, pushing the limits of hyper masculinity. And size. His stomach suddenly rumbled with hunger. It had been two hours since his last mass builder shake. He stopped himself from spewing his voluminous spunk all over the posing mirrors, and went down to the kitchen. Just as he got to the refrigerator, he heard a noise coming from his living room. He went over and stuck his head into the hallway. He heard it again. He made his way to the living room just in time to see a figure climbing in through an open window. Fred stayed in the shadow of the hallway while the burglar oriented himself to the darkness of the room. He groped his way around for about a minute before Fred said, “Can I help you with something?” Fred’s vocal cords had thickened up along with everything else on him, and his voice was a good two octaves lower than a normal man’s. The burglar jumped backwards into the wall behind him, dropping the big screwdriver he’d used to jimmy the window open. As he leaned over to pick it up, Fred stepped into the room and clicked on a light. The burglar took one look at the sweaty, naked, muscle behemoth and dove for the open window. He was halfway out when Fred grabbed him by an ankle and yanked him roughly back in. The burglar fell to the floor, and held his screwdriver toward Fred with two shaky hands. Fred grabbed the screwdriver from him and twisted the metal into a pig tail curlicue with two of his muscular fingers. Then he tossed it out the window. “Don’t hurt me,” the guy begged. Fred loomed over him. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m gonna kill you. You picked the wrong house to rob, Sonny boy.” “I thought some old guy lived here.” Fred felt a darkness rising up from deep inside. A raging swarm of anger like he’d never felt. “Some old guy does live here. One that can do this,”Fred said. He put his left hand around the burglar’s neck and hauled him to his feet, then lifted him off the ground and shook him hard. His body flopped about like a scarecrow. “Goddam boy, I could crush your neck like a milkshake straw.” Instead, as the guy began to panic, Fred tossed him violently across the room. The burglar slammed midway up the opposite wall and dropped down behind the couch. “Oh, that HAD to hurt,” crowed Fred. He went over to the heavy leather couch, picked it off the floor with one arm, and flipped it aside. He got down into the guy’s face. “I’ll snuff you out like a cheap candle.” Fred’s raging anger was giving him a raging hardon. He leaned in closer, until their noses were almost touching. “But maybe I won’t kill you. Maybe I’ll just rape you all night long, then send you to the hospital with a shattered rectum and pulverized internal organs. The hospital staff won’t believe that a 75 year old guy could damage someone so badly.” Fred spoke with such rage that spittle sprayed out of his mouth. “Holy fuck, dude. Don’t. Just call 911. Get the cops here.” The young burglar struggled in vain. He pushed against Fred’s chest with both his hands, but there was no budging the marble-hard giant that was pinning him down. “I’ll call the cops after I’m thru with you.” Fred rolled his thick pec meat up and down as the guy’s palms pressed against them. “Oh man, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was losing it. I’m just so hungry. I’m desperate for a couple bucks and some food. Three months ago I lost my job, then got evicted. I’ve been living in the woods behind here for a couple weeks.” “You smell like you have,” Fred said, noticing the young man’s innocent, frightened eyes for the first time. Fred rage started to abate. “Dude. Your chest…” said the burglar, feeling bolder, as he began groping Fred’s heaving pecs. Fred laughed deeply. He loved the effect his massive size had on people. Even a frightened burglar couldn’t resist the draw. “Be a good boy then, and chew on my nips. They need attention.” Fred’s nipples had become more and more sensitive as he grew. And bigger. And harder. He wanted them serviced. Out of fear and desire, the young burglar began to chew on them hungrily. It made Fred so horny he could barely see straight. His nipples throbbed and swelled as they got worked on. The dark side of him was tempted to rape the intruder right there on the hardwood floor. Pile-drive his ass repeatedly. Teach him a lesson. Use him as his cum bucket. Then knock him around the room for while, before starting all over again. After all, the idiot had broken into his home. But then Fred’s dad instincts kicked in. His rage melted away as he took pity on the guy. “Let’s get you cleaned up before I decide if I should kill you.” Fred picked him up like a dirty pillow, and hauled him into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, then stripped him down. “Jesus, these clothes stink.” He tossed them out the window, and looked the guy over. He was filthy and lean, like a stray dog. His stomach was board flat, and Fred could see his ribs. “What’s your name?” Fred asked. “Tyler,” he responded, embarrassed by his nakedness in front of the massively developed older man who outweighed him by three times. “You?” “Call me Daddy.” Fred rippled his massive daddy muscles at him. Tyler’s dick jumped. Even thru his filth, Fred could see his rugged good looks. “Get in the shower, Tyler. I’ll find you some clothes.” Fred left and went upstairs. He dug out some of his old clothes, the ones that fit him when he was a scrawny old man. He laid them out on his bed, then went back down. Tyler was still in the shower, lingering in the steamy hot water. The room smell of shower gel, fresh and clean. Fred couldn’t take it anymore. He was so horny. Dark thoughts crept back into his mind. He looked at his 22” forearms and thought about how easy it would be to crush Tyler with them. Break his bones, one by one. Dude was homeless, who would miss him? Or better yet, keep him as his own, like a pet. Have him do chores in exchange for food. Use him for sex. Fred stepped into the shower. He turned Tyler towards him and forced his emaciated frame to his knees. “Suck me off,” Fred commanded. Tyler looked startled, but the tone of the massive man’s voice was not one to ignore. He went down on him. The hot water helped lube up the weighty schlong. Fred put his hands on the shower wall and let Tyler work on him. Fred’s dark thoughts waned as Tyler’s hot mouth worked on him. Suddenly, Tyler reached up with both hands and took Fred’s thick nips in his fingers. As he twisted them firmly, Fred’s head went back on his thick neck. “Oh fuck YEAH,” he bellowed. Tyler twisted harder, and sucked more aggressively. Fred let out a roar so deep and loud that the shower door rattled, and his beefy hands pushed against the shower walls so hard that the tile cracked under his palms. He exploded down Tyler’s throat with one gusher after another. Tyler’s flat belly swelled out like he was three months pregnant. Fred felt so much better. His dark mood had lifted. He turned off the shower and looked down at the dripping head of Tyler. He picked him up and hugged him against his huge torso. Tyler hugged him back, but soon said, “Um, you’re hurting me.” Fred laughed. “Sorry. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” He put the smaller man down. “Let’s go see if my old clothes fit you.” They toweled off and headed towards Fred’s bedroom. Fred led the way, and Tyler could barely believe the size of the old man’s back and ass. The big fucker could define kick the shit out of him. Tyler wondered if he should be worried. The massive powerhouse seemed real unpredictable and volatile. When Tyler walked over to the bed to look at Fred’s old clothes, Fred saw a US Army tattoo on his back. “Where’d you serve?” Fred asked. “Afghanistan,” answered Tyler quietly. “I did two years in Vietnam,” said Fred. “Jesus,” said Tyler, turning to look at him. “How fucking old are you?” Fred laughed. “Old enough to kick your scrawny ass.” He stepped up to him and flexed his arms. Tyler reached up and touched the huge biceps. “Jesus, Daddy.” “Why don’t you spend the night?” “Seriously?” Tyler said. “Yeah, why not, I got room. You want something to eat first?” “I’m kinda still full,” Tyler answered, rubbing his taut belly bump. “Did I do that to you?” Fred said. “Yep.” “Then you owe me a meal.” Fred lifted Tyler overhead, then lowered Tyler’s dick into his mouth. He repped him up and down with his big arms, while Tyler rested his hands on the ox yoke sized merger of Fred’s neck and traps. Tyler hadn’t had any sex in awhile so it didn’t take the young vet long to unload down the big man’s throat. Fred drained him, then tossed him onto the bed. Then the massive old vet climbed into the bed. The bed creaked and squeaked from his mass, despite the fact that he had reinforced the box spring with plywood and cinder blocks so the bed wouldn’t sag under his weight. He cuddled up next to Tyler. He put his big arm, heavy as a log, over Tyler’s chest, and fell into deep sleep. Tyler couldn’t budge, but he hadn’t felt so secure in a long time. But would it last?

THREE NICK It’s been two days since I sent a text message to Mason - the hot muscle daddy who I met at Utopia the weekend before last and had amazingly hot sex with. Two days of constantly checking my phone to see if he’s replied and wondering why he hasn’t. Two days of asking myself why the fuck I even texted him in the first place. It was the first time I’d reached out to him since we exchanged numbers that Sunday morning before I left his flat. I didn’t want to text him when I was back home at my parents' in Leicester. I told myself I was playing it cool. But honestly? I think a part of me was afraid I wouldn’t hear back from him. And that I’d just be sitting in my room at my parents' waiting for a guy I’d only met once to text me back. As opposed to now sitting in my new room in Manchester waiting for a guy I’ve only met once to text me back! The thing is - it was such a good fucking night. And the sex was so hot. And Mason seemed so into me. Not just after we first went back to his, but the morning after too. I just keep replaying everything over in my head. The moment I bumped into him in the club. The way he kissed me in the taxi. Making me call him Sir. When he sat on my fucking cock and flexed for me. His balloon-like pecs. Those thick biceps. The silver chain. His slightly furry forearms. The sticky-out ears. The zigzag vein at the side of his head. And those piercing blue-grey eyes which spent so much time looking into mine as he was kissing me. Telling me how cute I was. “Hot little sexy muscle nerd” were the words he used. He was clearly into me. So why the fuck hasn't he replied to my text? I reach for my phone in my pocket, fully expecting to experience that all too familiar stomach drop when I don’t see a text from Mason sitting on my screen. Even though my phone’s on vibrate. Even though I’m pretty sure I would have heard the sound notification. But what if Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy actually HAS texted me back? That tiny glimmer of hope is there when I retrieve my phone. But in less than a second, it’s replaced by that predicted crush of disappointment. I load up Instagram on my phone and for the umpteenth time this week, I type the name Mason in the search bar and scroll down the list of results. No hot muscle daddies. No mature shredded bodybuilders. No sign of any bald veiny heads or sticky-out ears. It would help if I knew his surname. Although that’s not exactly the type of thing you ask someone you pull in a club. Maybe he’s on there under another name. Or maybe he just doesn’t have an Instagram. I think back to what he said about The Muscle Factory. That it's full of people showing off. That there are too many posers. Maybe he has similar thoughts about bodybuilders who post endless pictures and videos of themselves on social media. Especially bodybuilders who post videos of themselves posing in busy shopping areas wearing nothing but shiny orange posing trunks and trainers. Just like my new fucking flatmate, Alfie Winters, did yesterday! (A video I happened to have watched a dozen times and which I think I love just a little bit more every time I do.) I almost wish I was starting my internship this week instead of next. At least that would give me a distraction from the Mason text drama. But I do have a distraction today, at least. A pretty big one in fact. Because, in about an hour's time, I’m going to embark on my very first visit to The Muscle Factory - one of Manchester’s biggest and most notorious bodybuilding gyms. Alfie is meeting me there after he’s finished training a client at another gym he works at. I was so relieved when he asked me if he wanted to go together yesterday. I’d be a hell of a lot more nervous if I was going solo. I have no idea whether his comment about having to do an initiation was a joke or not but I’m trying not to think about too much! After much stressing over what to wear for my first visit to The Muscle Factory, my backpack’s packed and I’m ready to head out. But as I open my bedroom door, I hear something which causes my stomach to tighten with nerves. There’s someone in the kitchen, and I have a pretty good idea as to who that someone is. The flatmate I haven’t actually seen or spoken to since I moved in yesterday. The flatmate I barely spoke to when I came to view the room the weekend before last. Or more accurately - the flatmate who barely spoke to me. I could easily pretend I haven’t noticed or heard and just quietly sneak out. The front door to the flat is only a couple of feet away from my bedroom door. But it feels kind of rude. It feels like I should really go and talk to him. I mean - we are living together. I’m gonna have to talk to him sooner or later. My insides sharply twist as I walk down the hall and approach the kitchen and living room area. To say Danny King wasn’t exactly warm or friendly towards me when I came to view the room would be an understatement. But then … he did agree to me moving in. I’m almost taken aback when I walk into the room to the image of Danny cooking one of his no doubt many prep meals at the stove with his back to me. Last time he was covered up by a Panther's Gym hoodie. This time he’s wearing black trackies and a tight white t-shirt. Everything about Danny King from the back is just so ridiculously and effortlessly sexy. The back of his neatly shaved head. His bull neck. The back of his thick upper arms bulging around and under the sleeves of his t-shirt. His meaty lats sticking out either side of his back. His impossibly small waist. And that stupidly big arse nestled in his trackies. (Christ alive.) And now I’m supposed to talk to him. Is it too late to turn around and quietly sneak out? Yes - because he’s turned his head and spotted me. Just standing there silently watching him like a complete and utter weirdo. “All right,” he says, his tone a little friendlier than last time, but looking a little weirded out. “Yeah, you?” Why does my voice sound odd? “You off out?” “Erm. Yeah. Just … the gym. Muscle Factory. I'm, erm, meeting Alfie there.” Jesus. This is so awkward. He looks awkward. And I feel awkward. “Cool,” Danny says casually, turning back to his cooking. My heart drops. Is that all I’m getting? But then he fully turns around. His big pecs bulging under his t-shirt. His stomach a little bloated. He’s only twenty-five and he already has a bit of a roid gut. God, that’s hot. “You been before?” he asks me. He still looks a little awkward, but I can tell he’s trying to make an effort. Which is just about the best thing that’s happened to me today so far. “Nah. First time. Alfie says you’re competing soon?” He turns back briefly to check whatever’s boiling on the cooker. What is Danny King going to look like with a post-show carb blow-up? “Yeah. Six weeks.” “Cool. Well … good luck!” As soon as the words come out, I realise how idiotic they are. Good luck? As if I’m not gonna be seeing him pretty much every day from now until then. As if we're not fucking living together. The corner of Danny’s mouth curls into a smirk before he turns around again. Like he’s laughing at me for that ridiculous thing I just said. Which I don’t blame him for one bit. Or maybe he's just laughing at me in general. And now I want to disappear. I say, “See ya!” and walk out of the kitchen. And my whole body tenses up. Because Danny King doesn't say goodbye back. He just carries on cooking his fucking food. And as I leave the flat and make my way to the tram, I can't help thinking - was that really fucking rude of him? Or am I just being over-sensitive? I think back to what Mason said about Danny that night. That he keeps himself to himself. That he doesn’t really talk much. That some people think he’s arrogant. I’ve only had two interactions with him so far, but I can definitely see why people might draw that conclusion. It’s kind of hard NOT to wonder whether Danny King is arrogant, to be honest. He definitely gives off a certain vibe. Like he thinks he’s better than me. But then … look at him compared to me. Look how far advanced he is in his bodybuilding. Look at that arse. Those arms. That annoyingly handsome face. Maybe those thoughts are kind of justified. And now I’m thinking about Mason again. (Great!) Maybe he didn’t actually get my text message. Or maybe he saw it, got distracted and completely forgot to reply. I get my phone out when I’m on the tram and open up the messaging app. I look at the text, just sitting there, not replied to. Maybe I should just send him another one. A dozen possible ideas for a follow-up text come into my head. Hi, how are you? (Completely ignoring the fact he ignored my previous message.) Did you get my other text? (Would that make seem like a pushover?) Not gonna bother replying then? (Assertive. Confrontational. Straight to the fucking point.) As if I would ever have the guts to text Mason that last option. I go to my text conversation with Liv and text her instead. So you know the hot muscle daddy I pulled at Utopia? I text him for the first time two days ago. No reply!! Three dots tell me Liv’s replying to my text. That’s your punishment for leading Benji on! Kidding!! Hmmm. You said he was really into you though. Just send him another text. Swallow your pride. Be flirty. Be direct! And now I’m smiling. That’s … actually really good advice. Liv’s typing another text. How are the flatmates? I type a reply. One is really nice and friendly! (The short, cute, possibly bisexual one!) I’m on the way to meet him now. He’s taking me to The Muscle Factory! One is not so friendly. (The big, hot, definitely straight one!) My stop’s coming up so I unlock my phone and stand up. I’m thinking about Liv’s advice. Be direct. Tell Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy what I want. If I don’t - if I just give in to the fact that he’s ghosted me - I’ll never get anywhere. I’ll never get anything again from Mason. I may not even see him again. When I get to The Muscle Factory, Alfie Winters is leaning up against the wall next to the entrance of the gym. He’s wearing the same blue gym-branded hoodie he was wearing yesterday and looking at his phone. I wasn't sure if Alfie would actually wait outside or make me meet him inside. I can't help thinking it’s kind of sweet that he did the latter. “All right?” he says when he sees me, putting his phone in his pocket. “Ready to start your mission to get huge and shredded?” I can’t help giddily grinning at Alfie’s comment as I follow him into the building and take my very first steps inside Manchester’s most iconic bodybuilding gym. I don’t know why but it completely takes me back when Alfie Winters takes his hoodie off in the changing rooms to reveal a tight-fitted white vest. It’s hardly an unusual thing for a bodybuilder to train in a vest. I’ve seen Alfie in the gym in a vest on Instagram. I just didn’t really prepare myself to be faced with Alfie’s physique bulging out of a vest for the first time since that day I viewed the room. (And a vest a lot tighter than the olive green one he wore that time.) It’s hard not to stare at and feel a little bit intimidated by Alfie’s perfectly round delts. Or his short, stacked arms. Or his thick pecs spilling out of the top of his vest. Even Alfie’s forearms are crazy thick. I can’t help thinking that those forearms are also kind of strangely cute? “You okay?” Alfie asks me as if we head out of the changing rooms and towards the gym floor. “Mmmm,” I say, not looking at him. Because maybe if I can’t see those fucking arms and those little bulging traps that are quite possibly the cutest traps I’ve ever seen, I can actually talk to Alfie Winters like a normal person again. “Don’t be nervous,” he says, in a kind tone. “No one will even look at you. No offence!” I let out a little laugh. “None taken,” I say with sincerity as I look over to see him smiling back. I’ve mentioned how cute Alfie Winters is before, right? The Muscle Factory is pretty much how I imagined it to be from all the pictures and videos I’ve seen on the Internet. A huge clean space with tons of modern machines, occupied by some seriously huge dudes. Some in t-shirts. Some covered up by hoodies. Some bulging out of vests like Alfie. I’m also a little surprised at just how many non-bodybuilders are here too. As for the walls - well they’re plastered with posters of famous British bodybuilders through the ages. From Charles Montgomery and 90’s legends like Johnny Hoxton right up to current pros like Liam “The Guns” Watson and recent Mr Olympia competitor Nathan Marrett. “Is it how you imagined?” Alfie asks me. “Mmmm. Pretty much!” “What would mummy say about the posters?” Alfie’s mouth curls into a cute, teasing grin. Right before I spot a fairly built guy in a red t-shirt with some kind of muscle brand written on it walking towards us with a friendly smile on his face. He’s older than me and Alfie. I’d say in his mid to late thirties. Brunette hair. A strong jaw. He’s not like, knock-you-round-the-head handsome but definitely he’s a good-looking guy. He’s not a mass monster but his arms look pretty meaty. I’m guessing he’s competed at some point, if not recently. And he actually looks sort of familiar. Maybe I’ve seen him on Instagram. “All right?” he says to Alfie. He seems so warm and friendly. “Jason … this is Nick. The new flatmate.” Jason. Yeah - that name sounds about right. “Oh, THIS is your new flatmate?” He gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry, mate.” Alfie gives Jason a sarcastic smile and I look between the two of them smiling. Even though Jason’s friendly, I still feel kind of shy around him. “Jason’s my coach. He helped me in my last show. He's one of the best trainers here!” I look at the text on Jason’s t-shirt again. “TEAM FOX”. Yeah - I’ve definitely seen this guy on the Internet before. Jason eyes Alfie suspiciously. “What are YOU after?” “Just being nice! Oh, AND … Jason was the one who filmed my latest Instagram video.” He turns to me. “You’ve seen that, right? The one of me posing in the street in my orange trunks?” I think my cheeks have gone red. “Ummm. Yeah.” “It was Jason’s idea.” Jason gives Alfie a wide-eyed look and then turns to me. “It was bloody NOT my idea, thank you very much.” Alfie laughs and Jason tells us to have a good workout and leaves us to it. Alfie tells me how good of a guy Jason Fox is. How he used to be a bodybuilder but now focuses on training. How he’s trained a few guys to their pro cards. He tells me how he made amazing gains when they started working together for Alfie’s recent show and that not only is Jason his coach but he’s also become a good mate as well. And as Alfie is telling all of this, I can’t help feeling, not so much jealousy, but more of a longing. To have what Alfie has with Jason Fox. To meet some amazing coach and bodybuilder who helps me make loads of gains. And who I then become genuine friends with. Which I really hope is what’s happening with Alfie. I feel like it is. I feel like we’re becoming friends. Even though we haven’t known each other long. Even though I literally just moved into the same flat as him yesterday. After an hour of training and Alfie’s arms and shoulders getting increasingly and more ridiculously pumped, Alfie takes me to the infamous Juice Room, which is basically a place with a bar that serves drinks, smoothies and shakes and where bodybuilders hang out. I’ve seen so many pictures of the Juice Room on the Internet. It’s pretty fucking surreal to actually be in it. To see it in real life. I’m not entirely sure I would have had the guts to even come in here if I were by myself. And it dawns on me that this whole experience and first trip to The Muscle Factory has been made so much better by the fact I’ve been accompanied by Alfie Winters. “So, erm … what happened with the other guy who came to view the room?” I ask him as we’re getting our stuff together and heading out of the gym. Alfie furrows his eyebrows a little. “Oh!” he then says, seeming to remember who I’m talking about. He lets out a little laugh. “I, erm … think he was a bit freaked out!” I give Alfie a confused look. “By the fact me and Danny were bodybuilders.” “Oh right. Was he not a bodybuilder himself then?” Alfie laughs again. “Nope! It was a guy who works with Danny’s brother. He was looking for a room and Danny’s brother told him we had one. I don’t think he told him we were bodybuilders though. He looked like he was gonna crap his pants at any moment. His eyes were going all over the place.” Huh. Something suddenly dawns on me. Wait - was THAT why Danny King gave Alfie that look when he insinuated the room was mine? Because the guy viewing the room after me was someone who works with his brother, who’d hooked him up with the room viewing? It kind of makes sense. So maybe the problem wasn’t actually me? Or at least not ALL me. Maybe Danny wasn’t that opposed to me moving in after all? My chest suddenly feels lighter. And I'm finding it hard to fight back a smile. “Are you heading back home?” I ask Alfie outside the entrance. Alfie stops still and gives me a mischievous grin. “Are you forgetting something?” “Erm …” “Nick - I told you if you wanted to be a Muscle Factory boy you’d have to do an initiation!” I feel a stab of nerves. Alfie laughs. “Nick - you can’t come to The Muscle Factory and not take a picture in front of the flexing bull.” Oh. I know exactly what he’s talking about. Alfie’s looking up, above my head. When I turn around I suddenly realise where we’re standing. Right above me is the famous and iconic Muscle Factory bull. It’s basically a mural of a big red muscle bull flexing in a front double biceps pose painted on the outside of the building. It’s become a bit of a trend for bodybuilders visiting the gym to have a picture taken in front of the bull while also flexing a front double biceps to imitate the pose. I’ve always loved seeing those pictures on Instagram. There was a big show here in Manchester last year called the McCarthy Classic UK where loads of famous American pros came over to either compete or attend the show. Pretty much all of them took pictures where they were flexing in front of the Muscle Factory bull. Some topless. Some in just t-shirts and vests. But the idea of ME doing that very thing fills me with dread. “Ummm … I dunno,” I tell Alfie. He gives me a look. “Do I have to flex though?” Alfie laughs. “YES, you have to flex! And you definitely have to take your hoodie off.” My stomach twists with nerves. “But … there are people walking past.” Alfie's lips curl into a cute, warm grin. “Just pretend it’s just you and me,” he says. I feel a pinch in my chest. I think I might be blushing a bit. “It’ll literally take two seconds, Nick. And you don’t have to post the picture to your Instagram!” I bite my lip. I want to. I really want to do it. “Let’s take it slowly. Firstly … the hoodie.” I sigh and reluctantly take my grey hoodie off. “I feel like people are looking!” “Okay - why don't you close your eyes?” I do as Alfie instructs. “Now bring your arms up into a double biceps.” I can’t believe I’m doing this. I lift up my arms. I'm clenching both fists. I'm flexing my biceps. God knows what I look like. Some weirdo flexing in the street with his eyes closed. “Relax your face. And … open your eyes!” As I obey Alfie and nervously open my eyes, I’m surprised to notice that not that many people are actually looking at us. I feel a surprising pang of disappointment. “One last order. Smiiiile!” I do so, not necessarily for the picture but because Alfie makes me laugh. I drop my arms and a grinning Alfie drops my phone. “A bodybuilder who’s embarrassed to flex. How did you cope at your competitions?” he teases. “That’s … different,” I tell Alfie, feeling my cheeks redden again. “Nick! Your biceps look awesome!” Alfie says, handing me back my phone so I can see the picture he's just taken. Oh wow. My biceps DO look awesome stretching the sleeves of the white t-shirt I’m wearing. I can’t believe I got a picture flexing in front of the iconic flexing Muscle Factory bull. This wave of happiness sweeps through me. “You got a text, by the way. When I was taking the picture.” Oh shit. My chest tightens. I’d finally managed to forget all about Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy. Could it be him? Could he have finally texted me back? My chest tightens when I head into the messaging app. But it’s not a text from Mason. It’s just Liv. Did you text him yet? I remember what Liv suggested earlier. To text Mason again. To be direct. To be flirty. To tell him what I want. I make the decision that that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I'm going to text Mason again. But I'm not going to it right now. Because I don’t want to ruin my current mood. This afternoon has been fucking awesome. Training at The Muscle Factory. Seeing some proper bodybuilders. Meeting Alfie’s coach. Flexing in front of the iconic flexing bull. All with my new flatmate Alfie Winters. In his tight little gym vest. With his perfectly round delts, short, stacked arms and crazy thick forearms. And his cute little traps. But yeah. I’m definitely going to text Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy again. I just need to find the right moment to do it.

“This is nice. I like what you’ve done with the place.” He meant it. The distance from campus wasn’t ideal, but out in this part of town, the buildings were built different. The apartment here was the bottom two floors of an old, four storey townhouse, and the ceilings were high. The chair Trent sits in is a little taller than most, more comfortable for his bigger form - the sound of the sander out in the yard is a reminder of where it came from, as Adam works on another. Trent hadn’t made that many changes to his own life. There was food, of course, his now much larger body demanding more calories than ever. And clothing. He’d seen his old highschool graduation hoodie today, and marvelled at how tiny it looked in his hand. Even if he ever could manage to squeeze his bulk into it without tearing - and he couldn't - the entirety of his abs would be clearly on display. But between his diet and wardrobe, there wasn’t much more Trent could afford to do. He relied on hand-me-downs from Adam for the most part, and had already blown through his savings from last summer. It was cramped as all hell in the same old apartment he’d had since the end of freshman year, and the only way he had of dealing with it was simple; don’t be there. That had been easier of late: when he wasn’t working out, studying, or in counselling, he was with the boys. It’s how he thought of them anyway, it didn’t really matter who was there. All into fitness, all into sports, none of them wanting Trent to be anything other than present. It suited him just fine, settling into the macho anonymity of it. Of course, there were also times when he was with one boy in particular… “Your small talk still sucks.” Brie is sitting on the sofa across from him, on its edge with her legs hunched up. An uncomfortable posture for an uncomfortable conversation, he reasoned. It was hard to tell if she’d grown over the last few months - he supposed she must have, they all had to varying degrees, but his had easily eclipsed hers. Her eyes were level with his chin, he’d noticed when he’d entered the house. “Are you still calling me small?” he quips, to no reaction from Brie. “Sorry. That was in bad taste. You seem… happy. With Adam, I mean.” And him with you, Trent thinks. He remembers when he’d asked the hulk of a man to set this talk up, and how broken he looked as his shoulders slumped. “I can ask her if you don’t want to…” Trent had asked with uncertainty - he didn’t think it was that big an ask. “No. It’s fine. I can do it. Let’s get back to work.” Adam had said, unable to look at Trent. “Um, no, it’s obviously not fine. What’s wrong?” Adam looks pained, before finally relenting, “I just knew this day was coming, is all. The two of you were into each other, and it’s only ‘cause of the whole size thing that you split. But that’s not an issue now, so…” “Wait, you think I’m trying to get us back together?” Trent asked in disbelief. “It’s fine, I understand.” “I really don’t think you do, asshole!” Trent says, playful punching him on the arm. “I’m not after your girl. I just need to talk with her, is all. It’s a bit weird being friends with someone but skipping out on half their life.” “You - you’re serious?” “Of course I’m serious. You really care about her, don’t you?” The thought appears to be a new one for Adam. “Yeah… yeah, I guess I really do.” Brie can’t help but smile at Trent’s observation. She’d been trying to keep on top of her emotions for Trent’s sake, but talking about her 7’4” golden retriever of a man couldn’t help but crack the facade. “Yeah, I am. It was just an attraction at first, but he’s honestly so thoughtful once you get to know him. Well, I guess you have gotten to know him. Not in the same way, though, obviously. You know I didn’t put him up to bothering you, right?” “He was pretty adamant I not tell you either,” Trent nods. “But I’m pretty grateful he did, looking back now. I needed something to focus on.” “Did he tell you he dropped the L-bomb with me the other day?” “No! It’s not exactly the kind of thing we talk about. But it doesn’t surprise me,” Trent says, thinking back to that conversation at the gym. “Trent, why are you here? Not that I’m not enjoying the chat, but this room can’t afford to have an elephant in it. We take up too much space as it is.” Trent sighs deeply. “I just need to talk some things through. What happened last Autumn… you’re not Seb. You didn’t do the things he did. But you were a part of it. And if there’s a way for me to move forward with Adam of all people… well, you’re a part of his life. So maybe there’s a way for us to move forward too.” Brie bites her nails, before responding, “I figured it’d be something like that. Can I - can I tell you what was going through my head when all of this came out?” Trent nods, and she continues. “Guilt and humiliation. Guilt for what I’d done for you. For what you narrowly missed becoming, for the pain I’d put upon you when I was supposed to have your corner. And humiliation for falling for it. I was more willing to believe Seb than my own boyfriend. How could I have been so gullible? But… a lot of time has passed since then.” She reaches out her hand, and gently takes Trent’s. “I still feel awful for what we - for what I did. And I still haven’t forgiven that overgrown bastard. But… I can’ t help but feel that the wedge that he drove between us used a crack that was already there. Things weren’t right for a long time, Trent.” Trent nods, an uncomfortable feeling knotting in his stomach. But at least this time he agreed with it. It was his to own. “I think that’s true - it wasn’t exactly a relationship of equals, especially towards the end.” “I know what you were going through was tough - but you never confided in me, except maybe one time. You tried to hide it. To be “strong” enough to take the burden, when really you were just hiding away,” she pushes. “Sure…” Trent reasons, “But was that lack of trust unwarranted? If I’d come to you with my feelings, would you have taken them on board? Or dismissed them as jealousy? It’s pretty clear what you thought of them by the end.” She nods. “That’s… probably fair. But I only had one voice in my ear, didn’t I? I had Sebastian poisoning the well by telling me you were just envious of us, and the case for the defense was… absent.” The two are quiet for a moment, before Trent breaks it. “Do you ever wonder what things would have been like, if none of this had ever happened?” “Sometimes. But I don’t regret it. Well, not this,” She says, gesturing down at herself. “The team, my friends, Adam… I’m happy with how things have turned out for me, even if I do regret the things I did to you along the way.” “And I’m happy for you. I always was, you know. I never wanted you to fail, or to stop growing. I’m glad you have what you want, even if it’s not with me.” The two of them stand wordlessly - Brie first - and embrace for a moment. Trent feels a lot of tension leave him. “You know, it feels right. You being taller than me again,” Brie says, breaking away, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes. “If you say so,” Trent responds - it’s not a subject he particularly wants to dwell on. “I’d say we’d be okay being in a room together, should I ever want to hang with your boyfriend?” “I think so.” “Good, because we’re starting to warp the floors at my place.” She giggles. “God, I remember how small it looked back when I was, what, 6’4”? How do you manage, you must be pushing 7’ now surely?” “Somewhere around that, I guess.” “And has it just been you? Or have you found someone else to bring back to… visit?” “There’s, uh, kinda been someone,” Trent says, holding his arm to himself, “Nothing serious, though.” “Well, I’d like to meet her sometime.” ------------------ “You know, if you’re having so much trouble with money, you could always just become a gigolo. It’s what you’re made for…” Trent scoffs, as Aiden continues to play with him. The two are lying on the broken remains of Trent’s bed, an act which caused him to bemoan an even bigger dip into his deposit on the place. Or, more accurately Trent is lying upon it, his chest exposed to the air, arms up behind his head, only a tight pair of boxer briefs now covering his - mostly - soft appendage. There isn’t much space left for Aiden, who didn’t require much to begin with, and is currently sprawled across Trent’s lower abdomen, completely nude with his round bubble butt high in the air. His hand is barely enough to wrap around Trent’s shaft even in this limp, post-coitus state, nor is it enough to cup both of his titanic testes at once; but he tries to anyway. Just playing with Trent had become one of his favorite hobbies, recently, something the big guy was more than happy to indulge. Aiden nuzzles into his package and inhales deeply. It smells of sex and sweat, and the two men are in a kind of sexual stupor - for now, they’re both at peace. “Why, you offering to pay?” Trent rumbles, a playful smirk on his face. “Ha! Yeah right. If I did that, I’d have to charge you too, and you would not like what the balance comes to!” “Really? Don’t they charge by the inch?” Trent retorts, flexing just enough to send a surge of blood into his cock. It swells rapidly, pushing apart Aidens fingers, before slowly deflating. Despite its apparent magnitude, it’s very much a shower. “Nothing says ‘quality’ like experience,” Aiden says, planting a kiss on the helmet-head that snakes out the bottom of the boxers. Trent had been shocked to find out that Aiden was older than him - 26, no less - given his tiny size. But he had to admit, his experience had taught him a great number of techniques. “Besides, I do most of the work…” Aiden continues, kissing again and again, coaxing back Trent’s foreskin. “Hey, quit it, you know I’ve got places to be…” Trent argues unconvincingly. “Mhmm, some thing with your ex and your friend where you all measure each other, and congratulate yourselves on being so big? I dunno, sounds pretty gay to me.” Trent scoffs. “Shut up” “Make me,” Aiden says, sinking the head between his lips. He feels it grow inside of him. “You know, you could come too, if you wanted? You could meet them. I know they’d be cool with it…” Aiden releases him with a loud POP. “Not really my thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally a size queen, obviously - but the whole couple thing isn’t for me. I’ll get bored of all this. Eventually…” He adds, licking up the now hardened shaft, and holding his arm against it. It’s dwarfed by the cock he’s holding. “Besides, I already know the measurement that counts.” “Wait, you do? I think I would have noticed,” Trent says, lifting himself onto his elbows. “It’s maybe not an exact science. But I’ve remembered how far up my arm it reaches, and I might have measured later on…” He admits, coyly. “Why?” “Bragging rights. Why are you so interested anyway, I thought you didn’t do that sort of thing…” He’s tapping Trent’s dick against his cheek now, and gently fondling his balls. “Sure, I don’t. But if you already know… I mean, you could just tell me. I could always measure myself anyway, what difference does it make?” Trent argues. “The difference is, you WON’T measure yourself, we both know that. And my knowledge comes at a price…” “A price?” “One more round” Aiden gets up, and turns around, so his face is over Trent’s, their lips just inches apart. His own modest 7 inches are hard and pressed against Trent’s abs, his ass cheeks now sandwiching the tip of Trent’s massive dick. “Deal…” Says Trent, leaning in and kissing him, his large tongue filling the tiny man’s mouth. “Good!” Aiden responds after breaking away, and then, leaning close to Trent’s ear, he whispers: “I want to feel all 15 inches…” ------------------ -HONK HONK- The obnoxious sound of the van's horn tells Trent that they'd arrive, and he ducks down to check himself in the mirror one last time, before grabbing his case of beer and leaving the apartment. It would be one of the last times he did so; he'd been in touch with the college's accessibility team and, in exchange for some work helping to promote the college for new students, they'd look into finding him more appropriate accommodation. He wouldn't miss it; everything he cared about was already packed, and the rest either donated or disposed of. It had reached the point now of being impossible to ignore. Ever since that night with Adam and Brie, when he had finally come to terms with how much he had grown… he’d been dreading it for so long, but actually going through with it wasn’t nearly as bad as he feared. Adam had gone first, and whilst the numbers were shocking, Trent saw him every day. He knew the guy was huge. And so the 7’8” and 450lbs simply washed over him. The guy was a titan, no arguing that. The true wake-up call was when Brie went next. She refused to weighed, preferring to keep that between herself and her coach, and was exactly a foot shorter than her boyfriend - 6’8”. But that confused Trent… she’s so small? He’d been thinking she was still 6’4” or there abouts, because compared to him…. And then it was his turn. And the numbers didn’t lie. They even took a photo to prove it to him. 7’4”. He’d blown past that marker and he didn’t even realize it. He’d grown more than a foot and a half since the Autumn, and at 395lbs, was at the cusp of 400lbs even. It was everything he’d ever hoped for. As he arrives downstairs he sees Adam standing next to Brie's new van, comically outsizing it. "Hey, there he is! We're in back, more leg room." Adam says before clambering in. "Yes, because us dainty little ladies don't need any," snarks Brie from the driver's seat. "Come back when you're over 7ft and we'll talk!," he quips back, as Trent joins him inside. He questioned the legality of the set up - it was, after all, just a van that Adam had chosen to modify. The driver and passengers seats had been moved back a little, and another pair of seats had been installed quite a distance behind them, the high ceiling of the van providing enough leg room for the two larger men to sit comfortably. He'd winced when he first heard about it, but he had to admit; it looked like Adam had done a good job on it. Plus, the prospect of the day had him undeniably excited. The semester was winding down, the weather had been turning warmer with each passing day, so the two had suggested getting away for a day or so - just up to the lake, where they could drink and eat and have fun before the summer truly got underway. His smile only freezes after he clips in his seatbelt and Brie has already pulled away. He sees who is sitting in the passenger seat. "Abbie?" "Hey" she says, turning around to look at him, an apologetic smile on her face. Trent looks at both Adam and Brie, who are pointedly not looking back at him. "Why do I feel like I'm being kidnapped?" "You're not being kidnapped," Brie says, her eyes still on the road. "We just didn't think it'd be a big deal is all." "If it wasn't a big deal, why didn't you tell me?" Brie doesn't have an answer for that, so Abbie instead chimes in, "I didn't know, either, for the record. Sorry to ambush you. I'll give you all the space you need - not now, obviously, but when we get there. When others get there, it shouldn't be a problem, right? Who exactly is coming, by the way?" There's once again a pregnant pause from the couple, interrupted only by the click-click of the indicator. "You did invite other people, right?" Trent asked, refusing to look away from Adam, the weaker link of the two. "Well, it depends what you mean by 'invite'..." "The word only means one thing, Adam, what do you think it means?" "Well - we... Brie was thinking..." "I was thinking it's silly that my best friend and Adam's best friend can't spend time with each other. So, we invited the people that mattered." "Brie..." Abbie says pleadingly. Brie softens her expression. "It's okay, I promise we don't have to talk about anyone who isn't here." Trent meanwhile is studying Adam quizzically. "I'm your best friend?" "I dunno," he shrugs. "Maybe? I'm definitely yours, but to be fair, there aren't many in the race." "Asshole," Trent laughs, before Brie calls back to them. "You're the friend with the best influence on him, let’s leave it at that, okay?" The drive takes about an hour and a half but surprisingly passes quite quickly. Trent gradually relaxes as the light, dumb humor of the conversation dictates their mood. He'd seen Abbie since the events of last autumn; she was hard to spot across campus, standing head and shoulders above almost everyone. He'd also attended a couple of Brie's games, finally, and the two of them made an unstoppable force. The size and the athleticism of the two girls was one thing, but their teamwork truly set them apart; it's like they could read each other’s minds, moving the ball with lightning fast speed that was hard enough to spectate; no wonder the other teams had no answer to them. But he'd not seen her to talk to. To be honest, he hardly spared her a thought. "I'm surprised you never tried any sports, Trent." Brie calls back to him, as they finish picking over their last one-sided triumph. "Especially basketball, did you hear he's in the 7ft club, now, Abs?" "Yeah, I think you mentioned it..." she responds wearily. "I don't think I'd do well with spectators," Trent answers truthfully, "I think I need to work on myself a bit first, you know?" "Hell of a big project bro!" Adam says, grinning like a doofus - Trent can't help but return the smile with a shake of his head. "I think that's more than fair," Abbie says, "Putting yourself first isn't always the easiest thing." There's a meaningful glance shared between Adam and Brie through the rearview. They arrive and the weather couldn't be better for it - warm, with a light breeze that lacks the oppressive heat of midsummer. For a moment, the van becomes the world's largest clown car, as the four of them emerge from inside and stretch their elongated limbs. An elderly couple who are returning to their car stare, their mouths open in shameless amazement. The carpark is placed at the top of a ridge that slopes down to the glittering lakeside, a gorgeous vista that the group walks into, once they grab all the chairs, drinks and food they'd brought with them. It's a good distance to the camping area, where they're allowed to cook, but it's not an issue for their long, powerful legs. They arrive and immediately fix the most important thing - drinks, and the boys take a can of beer each and the girls crack open a bottle of wine. Scarcely had the liquid passed their lips, however, when Brie smacks her forehead. "Oh, no! I forgot the grill!" She says. She puts her glass down and looks back up the hill, before wrapping her arms around Adam's forearm. "Baby, could you give me a hand carrying it down?" Adam looks at her with confusion for a moment, before his eyebrows raise. "Oh! Oh yeah, sure thing baby. You can, uh, show me where you packed it." "I'm so sorry guys, you two just relax! We'll be back before you know it!" She says before dragging Adam away. Abbie and Trent watch them go in stunned silence before she turns to him. "So you think she really needs help carrying a grill?" "That depends - is she going to take it out of the van first?" Abbie giggles, "No, probably just simpler to carry the whole thing right?" "Then that's a maybe," Trent says, before grabbing a couple of camp chairs and shaking them out. The two sit. "You know they're trying to get us to hook up right?" Abbie says, taking a sip of wine. "I think they miss double dating." "Ah, is that what it is?" Trent responds, "I wondered if it was that, or they were going to fuck in the van." "No, definitely the first. Well, maybe both. But Brie's been selling you for a little while now. Just to check, you're not actually secretly harboring feelings for me, are you?" "I don't - I don't even know you, really," he says, as he thinks back on the times they'd interacted. "I think this might be the longest conversation we've ever had." Abbie is surprised by that. "Wow. I think you're right. I guess it just feels like more since - since he used to talk about you, a lot." Her face falls as she brings up Sebastian, and she takes another sip. "All good things I hope?" "You... you don't want to know. Like, I see it now, but... I used to think you were a real creep, you know? The things he told me... I think I might be a big part of why Brie left you. I told her to, more than once." Trent waves his hand. "I really don't want this conversation right now, Brie and I - and Adam - we're in a pretty good place. I couldn't care less what lies you've been fed." "You know I broke up with him?" "I'd heard," Trent nods, "Not on my account, I hope?" "Mine." She says firmly, "He lied to me. And the more I thought about it, the more I saw; he'd always been lying to me. And then, when I suggested we take a break... he didn't take it well." "Oh." The implication sits heavily in Trent's stomach. "Yeah. I don't especially want to go into it." "No, no, of course not," he says, wanting to help her change the subject. "So naturally, because we've both been through so much, we should start planning the wedding day, right? How's your July looking?" "You're as much an asshole as he is," she snorts with laughter, gesturing at the diminishing shape of Adam making his way up the hill. "No - you're not so bad. I'm sorry, for the record. But even if we were perfect for each other, it'd never work out." "Really? Me too. I'll tell you mine if you share yours." She bites her lip, still looking up the hill. "Ah, what the hell - I need to tell her soon anyway. Today's as good a time as any. I'm moving." "Like to a new apartment, or...?" "Like halfway across the country. Different college." Trent's eyebrows raise. "That's... sure as hell a big secret. So you won't be playing together next year." She looks sad as he says it, but nods. "I'll miss that. And I'll still play, it's just... I need a fresh start, you know? There's too much toxicity here. I can't continue to grow if I'm still in his shadow." Trent reaches out and squeezes her hand gently. "I know the feeling." "Anyway! Enough of the pity party, what's your secret? Have you added a new X to your T-shirt size?" "I’m gay.” She blinks as she processes his response - was it a joke? No, he’s serious. “Well, that blows mine out of the water.” “Not really,” he says, “I think your news affects them way more, especially Brie.” “Well, yeah, but yours is so… unexpected. Were you… when you and Brie were dating, did you know then?” She asks. “No - maybe? It’s kinda hard to say,” He says, not really sure of the answer, “I definitely liked girls. Maybe I’m bi? Except now, really, it’s just guys.” “Any guy in particular?” “Yes and no. I’ve been seeing someone, on and off, but it’s just sex really. He’s not the relationship type,” Trent shrugs. “But we both know what we’re there for. But when I imagine myself with someone now, it’s another man.” “And they don’t know?” She presses, watching as the shapes at the top of the hill appear to be coming back. “Nobody does. Well, Aiden might have cottoned on by now. But you’re the first person I’ve come out to. I guess you’re kind of like a stranger, but not - it’s a little easier that way.” “Well… I guess I’m honored. Good for you, Trent.” “Thanks. And you I guess.” He takes a sip, and squints up at the returning pair ruminatively. “Do you feel like pretending we’ve hooked up for a bit? See how they react?” “Oh, absolutely. What else are friends for?”

Chapter 3: My Friend, the Giant Tylers eyes opened wide, his big and muscular Friend still in front of him, shirtless. [Tyler]: „Wait… you noticed that i am into muscular Dudes? Man, that‘s a bit embarrasing… but yeah, you ARE right…“ Rex chuckled and lifted Tyler up while hugging him. [Rex]: „Of course, like… how could i not? Like… i saw how you looked at these buff jocks in the football team. Man… but i always guessed that i wouldn’t be good enough for you…“ Tyler lets out a small chuckle. [Tyler]: „Dude, did you really think that? I might be into buff Guys but im not that superficial. I… I noticed how you looked at me, everytime we spoke, you blushed… there was more for me than i thought huh?“ Rex nodded and let go oft he hug. Tyler smiled widely. [Tyler]: „Man… I can’t deny that there were feelings for you too, and to be honest, i think they are still there…“ Tyler let out a sigh. [Tyler]: „Come on Dude, Emotions are hard! Especially now, you are a 2 meter tall muscle god… but your character hasn’t changed. I see it, you are blushing!“ Tyler smiled as he spoke to Rex in a caring voice. Rex was blushing like Tyler said. [Rex]: „Yeah Man, you are right… so, i wanted to flex for you, are you fine with that?“ Rex smiled in a flirty and playfull way. Tyler was almost to stunned to speak, he always dreamed of a Man to flex for him. [Tyler]: „Hell YEAH! Um, i mean, when you want…“ Tyler blushed as Rex started to flex his massive Arms for him. Rex gave everything he got, Tyler stopped himself from touching his friends massive biceps, causing Rex to chuckle. [Rex]: „Ty… don’t be so shy, I‘m still your Buddy okay? When you want to feel them, go ahead!“ Rex grabbed Tylers Hands and placed one on his bicep and the other one on his abs. Tyler almost passed out. [Tyler]: „Oh my… so… hard…“ Tyler started to worship his friends massive body. [Tyler]: „You are so damn sexy Man! I could do this all day long! Fuck, i love this…“ Rex smiled wide as Tyler complimented his body. He stopped flexing and looked Tyler straight into his eyes. [Rex]: „Thanks Man… i like that…“ Rex closed his eyes and gave Tyler a deep loving kiss. After the kiss the two Guys just looked at each other. [Rex]: „I guess we are ready to talk about the Idea i had…“ Tylers eyes got wider and wider. [Rex]: „This secret lake i told you about, the one that made me grow… wanna try it?“ Tyler was shocked, in a good way though. [Tyler]: „So i can be big and handsome too? Sounds too good to be true, but yeah, why not… I see that you are still the same Guy from back in High School, so I KNOW it won’t change my personality… at least i hope so.“ Rex laughed. [Rex]: „Don’t worry, you always put others first, so i don’t think that a Growth would make you into one of these toxic alpha males. Because if so… i would have to mess you up…“ Rex chuckled while he flexed his arms again. Tyler blushed and nodded. [Rex]: „Follow me Dude, i have an extra helmet on my Motorcycle… we will be there in no time!“ Tyler took Rex‘ Hand a bit hesitant but in his eyes was a spark of hope. They got onto Rex‘ Motorcycle. [Rex]: „Hold on tight Man!“ Tyler held on to Rex as he started the motor. With the howling of the motor the two Men drove into a forest that was an hour away. [Rex]: „Almost there… are you sure that you want it? It’s permanent ya know?“ They got off of the motorcycle and looked at each other. [Tyler]: „I know… but i always wanted to get muscular, i tried working out and diets but nothing worked, so this is a chance i have to take.“ They walked through the forest togehter until they arrived at a small lake. [Tyler]: „It’s… beautyfull here. And this lake makes me… grow?“ Rex nodded. [Rex]: „Yes, but to be honest it only makes people grow that are worth it… a friend of mine came here too and NOTHING happened… funny to see his face… he wanted the muscles to hit up on girls… Yikes…“ Both of them chuckled and Tyler stepped near to the water, his body was shaking in exitement and nervousness. [Tyler]: „I… have i… even earned it? I’m… a normal Guy…“ Rex chuckled and walked behind him before whispering in his ear. [Rex]: „I know it will work man, you are a pure and kindhearted guy! Don’t downtalk yourself so much!“ Tyler chuckled and blushed until Rex pushed him into the lake. As Tyler entered the water his body started to tingle, a feeling of Power overcame him, his body began to grow and expand…

Part 13c I loved a classic sitcom gag — just not when I was the gag character. The record now stood at twice in one day that Marcus and I got involved in men’s room antics (even if he didn’t realize it was me the first time), so I was winded coming back from what was supposed to be a quick trip to the toilet. He and Froy were still inside recuperating. I doubt I was in there very long. Yet, the party’s atmosphere before and after reminded me of the madness trapped within Pandora’s Box. Froy and I worked so hard to scent the centralized cooling with Wes’ favourite almond scent. But when I returned, the overwhelming aroma of fountain liquor kissed my nose like ambrosia. Wes and Sammy were (or should’ve been) waiting for me back at our table. Instead, there was an ancient human ritual. Lying on his back atop our long, rectangular table was Wes; both his legs were two mounding hills folded along the stretch of tablecloth, his feet exposed, and his black pants rolled up to his knees. Somehow, even sprawled on a flat surface, his body still took up so much space, more than it looked like it really should’ve. The tightly tucked button-down that struggled to contain Wes’ upper body all day was granted relief. It was unbuttoned from the bottom-up, binding Wes’ plump pec humps against his broad expanse of chest. The guests and dinner platings had been cleared out, giving Wes full control over the table’s territorial reach. He was guffawing, resting his handsome head back on his hands, his mammoth arms fully exposed and the torn remains of the sleeves limp on the ground. He was chewing something and doing it so loudly. It was unbecoming of my manager, especially when there were other board members and the CEO around. The Wes I knew could never let himself be caught in public being so unprofessional. Then I saw Sammy, standing on top of a conference chair, holding an overloaded mini buffet of a platter, dumping food by hand into Wes’ overeager mouth. And I realized it was the CEO himself enabling Wes’ piggish behaviour. “More!” Wes yelled; his mouth still half-full, already fully drunk. “Keep stuffing me up bigger, Sammy! Your big lil’ daddy’s fucking starving!” I didn’t know what was happening, but I felt I needed to stop it. By the time I got close enough, though, it was too late. Because, on the floor, lost in the pile of silk sleeves and leather shoes, was the unmistakable sheen of a meteor shard necklace. And Act 2 of Wes’ birthday began to unfold before me, kicked off with a monstrous rumble in Wes’ belly. I needed to start from the beginning. I was never going to find a solution that still worked in my favour if I couldn’t grasp the chain of events by retracing my careless steps. Enough compromises with me pulling the short end of the stick. The second the clock ticked 5:00pm, the work week officially ended, and the party — along with the mess that came with it — finally kicked off. Everyone working in Human Resources had coalesced into an ocean of pastel dress shirts and heels from window to window of the 7th floor. Wes’ favourite nightclub beats from the ‘90s were blasted to 120%, yet the non-stop hurricane of conversation somehow matched them in volume. Britney Spears didn’t stand a chance. Anyone without a bat’s eyesight was left to navigate a labyrinth of neon outlines and solid shadows; the long built-in ceiling lights were either inactive or covered in cellophane, and multicoloured disco lights and stage lamps were stationed at strategic traffic-heavy hotspots. Obviously intentional to leave corners and less-populated corridors in the dark. I had only just arrived an hour past 5:00, and already there were intoxicated men and women claiming corners for themselves. There was a pang of jealousy, worsened by knowing Froy wouldn’t be around much longer. It wasn’t only HR staff at the party, so I went scouting. A lot of names and faces passed me by, but none I knew whose salaries matched their skills. What made it unbearable was trying to recall a time I was happy at my desk before Froy or without Marcus. Because there wasn’t one. Wes was my friend, but how far did our friendship really go outside work? Outside bar nights? I caught Sammy by the catering tables mingling with older men in overpriced suits. Within his vicinity, he was the only one I could recognize since he was the only one tall enough to be seen above the crowd. He was wearing a grin, but I knew what a corporate slave’s diplomatic smile looked like. Before I could approach, a bear-like paw grabbed me from behind. “Hey, where are you going?” Wes’ voice asked. I turned and faced the enormous man, his youthful brown face beaming at the sight of the much smaller me. “I was just about to look for you.” It was difficult to explain, but there was fear — the perpetual dread of inferiority that came from being around Wes. “I’m flattered. Come, let’s go sit at our table. Sammy’s reserved a table for the three of us. I’m starving!” He pulled me closer, encompassing my body in the space beneath his armpit where his relaxed arm could no longer reach because of his lats’ bulk. It was intoxicatingly warm, so close to him, with his pine tree cologne and matching deodorant. “Who’s ‘just the three of us’?” It was almost comical how Wes’ casual gait through the crowd could part it without a word. I’d seen it before, but not with this many people, and especially not when there was already hardly any room to make space for. We were shoulder-to-shoulder, back-to-back, but — like a hive-mind — not one person wanted to get in Wes’ way. They knew who he was; they knew the power he had. He wasn’t just our manager, and he wasn’t just the birthday boy — he was a bona fide giant-in-the-making. “You, me, and Sammy,” Wes replied. “I tried convincing Sam to give Marcus and Froy a seat with us, but he didn’t want the board members we’re sitting with to see the people they’re firing, and he didn’t want those two knowing who fired them.” The way people would look up to see Wes’ face, then so far back down just to notice me — it was strange. It was probably the first time I felt handheld since I was a kid, the same way a parent protects their child. With Froy, I felt I still held the reins; and Marcus never really dangled his size in front of me the same way Wes could — if anything, despite his physique, Marcus made me feel like an equal. Like his brother. “Can’t I go sit with them instead? I’d rather not be within knife’s reach of those psychopaths.” “Don’t ruin my birthday, Dor’. Let’s just go along with it for now, okay? Sammy says he has something planned for us, so we might as well hear him out before you go stabbing anyone.” At least the new height and muscle didn’t affect Wes’ head the same way it did Marcus. If anything, Wes’ head was still very much normal-sized for a 6’10” man — it was his ridiculously big body that was impractically over-muscled. I’d heard from a few coworkers that Wes’ head looked almost shrunken on top of so much mass. His clothes were holding on for dear life, and it wasn’t his unflexed sacks of muscle feeling constrained. Sammy had been side-eyeing us from a distance as we approached, and he got increasingly jittery the closer we got. The people chatting him up had noticed and did him a favour by walking away. Their cooperation was appreciated. Of course, their swift retreat wasn’t just out of generosity. How anyone couldn’t be intimidated by being in the presence of two of the most powerful people in the company was a mind-baffling thought to even consider — but I’d become such an exception to the rule that no one batted an eye anymore whenever they saw me in Wes’, Marcus’, or Froy’s shadow. It wasn’t a bad gig, though. The perks that came with being the accessory to someone respected outweighed the cons of dealing with the madness that came with said respect. “There they are; there they are!” Sammy exclaimed through the music. “My two favourite menseses.” He was enjoying a half-finished piña colada and holding his arms out to welcome us. “Hey, it’s good to see another familiar face in here besides our resident babysitter,” Wes said, patting me on the back (though it felt more like a squash racket than a human palm). “Hello again, Sammy.” Sammy waved for a server. “Can I get you two a drink?” He glanced at Wes and smirked. “Or a barrel?” “I’d love some sangria if you have it,” I said. The cool air was scented so woodsy and almondy, it was the first cocktail that came to mind. “What’s on the menu?” Wes asked, his voice chipper with eagerness. “Did you get the Vietnam Rosé craft beers like I asked? I’m in the mood to get fucked tonight.” Sammy and I both shot him an estranged look. “Fucked ‘up,’ guys. I want to get fucked up. Get a grip. I’m not bottoming for anyone.” Then Wes secretly nudged me with his elbow behind my back. “Unless you’ve got some tasty bucketloads of cum, then I’ll make an exception.” Some of the higher-earning coworkers around us had been eavesdropping and immediately distanced themselves from us. A win-win in disguise, really. Suddenly, the three of us were fenced off in our own little VIP section where Wes could get a chance to freely move. And he stretched his inhuman bulk, raising his arms over his head. We watched him test his designer clothing to its limits. He’d never been one to care about brand labels before (growing up in the poorer cities of Malaysia had ingrained that mindset in him), but when Sammy ordered tailor-made clothes using the stretchiest silks available for him to wear on his big day, he hadn’t expected Wes to have so many disproportionate and unmalleable moving parts, and clearly neither did the tailor. At least, it still fit him back then. The pastel burgundy button-down had broken free of his belted waistline. The silk crept up his stomach — equal parts chub and abdominal muscle — and the overhead lights casted a waterfall of shadows that ran down his four-pack, each row encased in enough fat to add layers of prominent size without becoming a gut. Two small holes had already formed in the stitch that connected his sleeves to his lats, directly under his armpits. Not much was visible through the gaps, not that there was much to view at all. Because of his south-east asian heritage, any minute amounts of body hair were practically translucent if not non-existent. His western father was also a hairless man himself apart from his forearms and calves, so Wes’ only real fur was the thick five o’clock mini beard he was sporting. No one complained, though. Wes was well-versed in compensating for anything he lacked. Being a 6’10” department manager with the body of a mega-powerlifter didn’t leave him with much to lack anymore, of course — except, perhaps, some self-control. His smooth, soft body made it easy for anyone to appreciate running their fingers and making skin-to-skin contact. I especially loved it. And I knew he enjoyed using me, precisely because I loved it. In the dark of his office, stroking and cupping his engorged muscle tits and the crevices and wrinkles his body made whenever he moved, it was the titillating satisfaction of fondling a lubed-up air bed filled with liquid metal or fine, wet sand. He didn’t need to be as cut or defined as Marcus, and Froy’s body was a good enough middle ground between the two — but, whenever I was with him, Wes’ body somehow just made me want to touch him, to relish in the way his body personified the word ‘more,’ to visit extremes I never knew the human body could go. At every height, Wes was always the biggest, in muscle mass or body fat or weight, width, breadth, sheer volume. I knew it. Wes knew it. Even Froy and Marcus knew it. That’s why the other two were putting in such an effort to tower over him. Because they knew they couldn’t compete with someone who would always end up with twice or four times the crude amount of mass Wes had on them. And as he stretched, Sammy and I were unabashedly mesmerized by how we could see the stitches unraveling and silk being tugged all over his torso, twice as wide if not more than either me or Sammy. And again, just as broad sideways, from the cliff of his pectoral shelf to the arc of his back, as my own body from shoulder to shoulder. With Marcus, I felt way too responsible. With Froy; immature. Whenever I spent time with Wes? Humbled might’ve been an understatement. “That’s way better!” Wes exclaimed, raising his arms out to the side to twist his torso. “Kudos, Sammy. I’m surprised you found a guy who could make sleeves big enough to fit your legs!” He laughed. But we all knew he wasn’t joking. “Anything and everything for my big, little man!” Wes patted Sammy on the head, the 12-inch difference in height between them now almost completely reversed. “I love it when you call me ‘small.’ it just reminds me that I’m not. And I never will be again.” “You got a thing against being one of us ‘tiny people’?” I asked. “Don’t talk crazy. Marcus told me something once, you know, and it’s probably the only time I’ll agree with him: He said that he loves that we’re the ones who grow around everyone and everything else. It just means that guys like you”—he pressed a meaty finger into Sammy and my lanky chests—“staying small and normal just makes us even bigger than we actually are. And I could not— I could not agree more. How could I not like being around my best buds when they’re the reason I feel so goddamn huge!” Wes bunny-hopped into an explosive double-bicep pose that revealed the volleyballs he had for biceps and American footballs he had for triceps, creating upper arms with more girth than the most overweight people’s 40-plus-inch waistlines. His sudden show of confidence was accompanied by fanfare, too — the worn-out stitches between his armpits finally gave in two very loud creaks. Sammy and I were front row patrons. We couldn’t move or take our eyes away from the big muscle slabs that wrapped around his torso, from his pecs to his lats and then his traps, forming complex cavern walls that could’ve been used as storage in the nook under his arms. “You just ruined a thousand-dollar shirt!” Sammy screeched, his voice cracking. “Wes— Oh, my god— You’re so beautiful, but you’re also so god-dang big!” Wes rolled his eyes and pouted jokingly. “Yeah, well, it’s expensive to be big. And tu bank account es mi bank account. Right?” “Don’t push your luck… you sexy asian meatloaf.” The three of us motioned to take our seats at the dinner table reserved for the most important attendees of the night. It was unnerving. There was no way I would’ve been sat around so many old men and their wives if it wasn’t for who I was to Wes. It was easy to forget I wasn’t as important as I thought I was. No one at the table made conversation with me besides Wes and Sammy, since everyone else was pre-occupied discussing work-related mumbo-jumbo, they didn’t want the rest of the staff to know. I knew enough, though. Anyone could do what they’ve been doing — they just made sure no one had a chance to. For most of the dinner, Wes’ non-existent weightlifting routine and Sammy’s hostile takeover were big topics. Wes used to lift, but his outdated numbers weren’t making a lick of sense. He hadn’t gone to the gym in a while, so he never got to check how strong he was. One tap on my shoulder, and it was on our calendars for next week after my date with Froy. Bored to death with the nothing happening at the table, I left to go to the men’s room. My phone had been ringing all night. A million and one texts from Froy, asking me where I was. Even at his dominant size, he was still so glued to me at the hip. There were footsteps coming from inside the men’s room, so I knew I wouldn’t be unaccompanied. When I opened the door an inch, I recognized Froy’s mumbling, as if he were practicing a four-count beat. He didn’t notice me approach from around the corner to catch him dancing in front of the mirror, pretending to hold someone two feet shorter than he was. The kid had no sense of rhythm. The visible strain on his face from struggling to keep up with his own beat was adorable to watch. There wasn’t an ounce of confidence left in him from that morning; his arms flailed limply, his immense torso was slouched over, and his feet were barely lifting off the ground. I wasn’t even sure why it looked like he was performing ballroom — Britney Spears was literally blasting outside. “What’re you practicing for, buddy?” I asked. He yelled in surprise and fell back against the sinks. The marble counter attached to the wall groaned loudly in protest. “Don’t scare me like that!” he said, gasping for air. “I almost ruined my outfit…” And what a look it was. My 7’6” college behemoth was in a cream V-neck shirt that hugged and accentuated his curves. His muscles stretched the fabric around his upper torso while it elegantly hugged his midsection, teasing glimpses of his soft bed of abs as he moved. He was also wearing a detachable black collar that Chippendale strippers wore. No doubt because there weren’t any actual collared shirts that fit him since hardly any of them stretched. The rest of him was fitted just as insane, but I was mostly distracted by the fact that I was eye-level with the shadow that wrapped under his pecs. He found skintight polyester slacks for someone half his weight in fat and deceptive office shoes made of rubber (disclaimer: not Crocs). My neck ached from looking up at him so often. At least the men’s room was eight-feet tall, so he could stand upright. “You looked like you had a ball to attend, sweet prince.” He pinched his face in guilt. “I didn’t want to embarrass you… if you asked me to dance.” I looked up at his bashful eyes and recalled the day I first met him, when he came in soaking wet from the rain in a black button-down that stuck to his skin. His face had hardly changed since, but his body had been blown up to ridiculous proportions. How far my intern had come. “You thought I’d get embarrassed if you didn’t know how to dance?” He nodded meekly. “Yeah.” Froy shuffled his feet over to one of the three cubicles and offered me the sinks. I’d never noticed before how Froy had become so broad that the ends of his shoulders were flying well-past the cubicle divider walls; he wouldn’t have been able to stand inside if he wasn’t sideways — even then, he still wouldn’t’ve had much room considering his pec shelf and back were grazing the dividers, too. Not to mention his bazooka of a penis. “I’m too big to still be so bad at dancing. What if I hurt you?” He walked up to me and pulled me in with a firm hand against my back. “See? I can barely see you under my chest!” I squeezed the thick nipple that poked through his shirt. “Are you complaining about being big?” Froy squeaked, and I saw a balloon emerge from his pants’ zipper. “No, sir, I like being big for you. I know how big you like me, and I still want to get even bigger for you.” “Good. Because I’ll find a way to grow you again. And if you’re so worried about hurting me while dancing”—I stepped onto his feet and wrapped my arms around his waist—“We could just do this, right?” I felt him laugh against my torso, and his hands were patting me inquisitively. “Sir, I— I can’t even see you! Where are your shoulders?” “Hold me anywhere you like. You know I like it when you touch me.” “You’re so tiny…” he chuckled to himself. “You make me feel so huge. I can’t believe I used to think I was tall!”—he lifted an arm and casually pressed against the ceiling, not able to fully stretch—“Now I’m almost as tall as every ceiling in the world!” “And you’re still only 20 years old. Who knows, bubby, you might just be starting a second puberty!” “Or my first.” He giggled. “My other brother is gonna freak when he sees how small he is now next to me. He was always the shortest, but he might hurt his neck to see my face when he gets out of prison.” “He might even hurt himself trying to hurt you, period.” Froy grinned at that, and he bent over to lift me by the waist. “You’re so light.” And he carried me over to the sinks where he let me stand on the marble countertop. My hair was grazing the ceiling, being just two inches under the maximum height, but for the first time I was actually looking down at Froy, even if by a measly four inches. His giddiness was infectious; despite the embarrassment, I couldn’t help but enjoy the size difference with him. He could’ve easily taken those four inches away, but he chose not to. “Look at you now!” he said. “I’ve never had to look up to see your little head before. You look so much cuter this close to my face.” He gently grabbed my jaw and pulled me in for a kiss. “I can’t believe you’re the one calling me cute now.” “How could I not? You’re like the old stuffed animals I used to have when I was a kid.” His hands were wrapping down my sides. “I used to sleep with them in my arms. And I pretended they were little people who loved me, and they told me I was the perfect size.” “Do you think you’re the perfect size?” I asked. Froy tiptoed and pecked me on the lips again. “Whatever size you want me will be the perfect size for me. And I know how you like your boyfriends.” The two of us took a moment to sink into one another’s eyes, savouring the seconds we spent together, and the world spun on our axis. It had only been just over a month since we met, but I could already tell that Froy was made for me. There was no doubt I was never going to find anyone like him again — not without everything that brought Froy and I together. The cutest guy in the office was into someone as mundane as me, and he was younger by four years, and smarter than I was, and bigger than I was. But he chose me. And he made me feel like he was never going to choose anyone else, either. “I love you, Mister Dory,” he said, giving me his wet puppy eyes. “I love you, too, Mister Froy.” I leaned in to kiss him again. But we stopped. We heard someone’s drunken slurring approaching the men’s room door and flailed in panic. For a second, we thought it was a false alarm. Then I heard Marcus’ voice, and he was drunk. “I’ve gotta pee!” he yelled. “Shit, you need to hide,” I instructed, pushing Froy away from me. I’d completely forgotten I was still on the countertop. Froy haphazardly dove into the far-most cubicle, damaging its hinges and integrity in the process. The crackling wood and metal supports were terrifyingly loud. It distracted me from the sound of Marcus’ delirious stomping just outside the door. The toilet roll holder inside had been broken off, and the heavy plastic rattled on the ground and sent rolls of unused tissue spilling all over the floor. Froy shuffled and squeezed himself into a blob of muscle, squishing his face against his pecs — or his knees — but he got one arm free to lock the door behind him. From where I was, he was invisible to everyone shorter than the six-and-a-half-foot tall stall doors. It was a magic show, watching Froy compress so much of his mass into a small cube. Whatever he was doing to maintain his flexibility at his immensity, I made a note to get in on it. The door swung open, and I hopped down from the countertop as Marcus turned the corner. His eyes met mine, then glanced at the roll of tissue at my foot and cocked his head. “What… what were you doing in here?” he asked, slurring his words. I struggled to make eye contact without vividly remembering what had happened in the men’s room on our floor only hours before. Any time my gaze left his handsome face, it beelined for his overstuffed crotch. He was even taller than I remembered. But I wasn’t surprised; I was on my knees when he had his growth spurt in the glory hole, so I was back to craning my neck to meet his handsome face. He’d once again blasted past the four-inch difference we had, now definitely taller than Sammy’s 6’3”. The clothes that barely contained him that morning were simultaneously hanging loose on his burgeoning frame while skintight. Nothing fit him anymore. The floral shirt he was wearing had shrunk into a kid’s shirt that literally covered nothing — it was coiled around his bowling ball shoulders and draped across the upper side of his back, and absolutely nothing else. Even standing still, his perky nipples stared down at anyone who stole a look. The khaki capris that fit him hours earlier were replaced with exploded daisy dukes that didn’t fit past his rotund upper legs. I didn’t doubt for a second that all he did was flex and the fabric burst into rags. Instead of khaki, I found tan skin rippling with corded striations that showed visible divisions between each muscle. How he planned on getting the glorified loincloth off was wet dream fodder. “Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” he asked, leaning against the wall for support. “Are you thinking dirty thoughts about lil’ ol’ me? How—hic—how forward of you, Dory.” He rested his head on the perfect dome of an unflexed bicep that put exercise balls to shame. He smelled like vodka, and I could still see the dried hazel streams that ran down his abs and thighs. It was shockingly dark. Not even the slightest bit diluted. Every time he opened his mouth to speak or breathe felt like inhaling a shot. And he was smiling — a lot. Marcus must’ve seen the gears in my eyes and shimmied over with the grace of a newborn calf. Lips puckered, then bitten lips and back again. He was dancing like someone’s dad at a disco, tucking his arms close to his chest and bunching up his muscles into bouncing sacks of beef. “Please tell me you aren’t trying to court me, Marcus.” I worried about Froy who was still crunched inside the undersized cubicle next to me. He knew I was his; still— I didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt me. But, fuck, was I tempted. Wes and Marcus were making it excruciatingly difficult to stay faithful. Damn my inner slut. Marcus bobbed his head, lost in a rhythm I couldn’t hear, and jived ever closer till he was breaching my personal space. Before I realized what was happening, I was being ground against the wall. He was alternating between pecs, bopping them against my face, then his abs, and his semi-hard penis that knocked into me like a knee. He was only a year out of university, so he still had a lot of blackout-drunk party boy wildebeest in him. A leg-sized arm propped him up against the wall. He must’ve gotten a metric truckload of action if he had the moves he used on me. I was losing control over my faculties. It was less of a drop and more of a nosedive. He opened his mouth again, and I felt the warm alcohol-rich mist of his breath seep into my nose and travel down my neck into my clothes. “I used to court ladies back in my uni days, y’know? Just. Like.” He lifted my chin with a finger. “This.” And he sucked in my lower lip, chewing on it before letting go and smirking. “You’re so easy! Look at you, man. You’re all hard for a pretty boy like me. I bet you wanna see how big my cock is, right? Don’t you think I’m a fucking treat?” He laughed. I blamed it on the alcohol, but my first instinct was to shove him away. Not that that did anything. How was I supposed to move a man who looked like he weighed three of me? “Did you just push me?” He cocked an eyebrow and grinned, flashing me his pearly whites. “I’m barely giving an effort to stand here, Dor’. There’s no way I’m remembering any of this in the morning, y’know… if you wanted to have your way with me, right here, right now, I wouldn’t say no. I’m straight— like, super-mega-straight, but if I close my eyes, it’s like you’ve got the dainty lil’ hands of a woman. And I’m reaaally in the mood for a handie.” I felt the words clog in my throat as heat flushed my cheeks, burned to a crisp in his gaze. Helplessness took over. He was relentless in his advances. Any time I dared to blink, I’d feel a rock-hard marble of a nipple bump into me, or a pec that felt like a soft basketball. It was taking all I could not to move. If I closed my eyes, I thought, he’d disappear — but he only took that as a signal to lean in close and exhale into my mouth, and he would chuckle, and I’d know he still thought it was a game. “Play along, Dor’, won’t you? I’m so horned up; you’ve got no idea.” His fingers unbuttoned my collar. “If I were Froy, what would you do to me? Hm? Or… yeah, what would you want that kid doing to a man like you?” The stall door burst open in the seconds before my next breath. I blinked, and suddenly Froy had exploded into my frame of vision. His hands were wrapped around Marcus’ neck, lifting him and slamming him against the opposite wall like a rogue forklift. The impact made the walls rumble around us. “Don’t talk to my boyfriend like he’s some toy!” Froy yelled. “He’s mine!” Marcus choked out a laugh as he wriggled a foot in the air. “Froy? When’d you get in here? I didn’t even notice your big ass feet stomping around with your ballerina steps!” “What were you trying to make him do?” Froy asked. But we both knew the answer. He just wanted Marcus to admit it. The size difference between both men was unbelievable, one being a 7’6” musclebound college kid and the other a 6’4” oversized model bodybuilder. From where I was, it was a battle of the titans. Froy was handling Marcus’ admittedly smaller body like he was a pillow. But there was no strain on Marcus’ face. Instead, there was a grin that hinted at something more. He’d stopped writhing and let Froy’s hands prop him up against the wall by the neck as if it were nothing. “What kind of question is that, puppy?” Marcus said. “You know what I was trying to do, if you were just hiding in that small-ass stall, watching me flirt with Dor’ like some pervy voyeur.” I gave pause, not wanting to get involved in their quarrel — even if I was at the centre of it. There was already too much responsibility on my shoulders; I didn’t want to be part of the reason my boyfriend or my best friend got hurt. “Answer the question!” Froy yelled, his voice cracking. His hands were shaking, a sharp contrast to Marcus’ calm demeanour. Marcus ignored his plea. Instead, he latched onto Froy’s forearms with his hands. “What’s there to say?” he teased. “You know what I want you to say!” Froy persisted. Marcus taunted Froy by bobbing his head to the sides. “Do I, though? Come on, Froy. Did you already forget you tackled me into the wall and have your mitts around my neck? I thought we were pals, but I guess I didn’t know you enough. Friends don’t normally attack each other like this, you know?” Froy leaned closer, his thighs blocking him from shrinking the distance further. “We’re not friends. I don’t know if I can call you my friend.” “What are you so scared of? Did you think I was doing something Dory wouldn’t like?” Marcus smirked. Even with his feet a good foot off the ground and dangling by his head against the wall, Marcus seemed disconcertingly unfazed. No blood was rushing into his head. It was as if all the strength in Froy’s enormous arms was still somehow weaker than Marcus’ neck alone. It was the first time I questioned what Marcus had become, what were my coworkers becoming? “Please… Just answer the question.” “I still can’t believe you’re still trying to choke me! What happened to being a good subordinate? Didn’t you want to share your blessings? Dory didn’t stop me. And did you already forget how you got so big in the first place?” “I didn’t forget,” Froy said. “ I— I could shrink you back into nothing and keep you small forever.” Marcus leaned forward, challenging Froy’s grip with surprising ease. “Would you, though? I mean, could you really? Froy?” he taunted. “Come on; don’t act like you would.” The direction the conversation was going sent me into a fear. Froy’s grip loosened around Marcus’ neck further. “What are you talking about? I did it once. I can do it again.” “You were drunk, Fro-yo! Drunk like a wet fish, just like me. We all do things we wouldn’t while we’re sober, and we’re not gonna remember any of this in the morning. And you haven’t had a sip of alcohol. I can smell it in your breath: your mango-strawberry mouthwash. So, you wouldn’t drain me like I’m Wes. I know you won’t. You know why? Why I know?” Marcus’ lips quivered in suppressed laughter. “Because I know you’ve got the hots for me, buddy. I see the way you’ve been eyeing me. You’ve had a big ol’ crush on me since that first rainy day. Remember that? When you came over and asked me for a shirt, and you realized you were too big for my shirt? I know it excited you. Right? Exciting? You were always a pretty tall kid, but I bet you never really realized how fun it is to really show off how much bigger you are than other people.” “What— What are you trying to say?” Froy asked. He should’ve been more defensive, I felt. But there wasn’t any of the aggression or hostility I saw when he attacked Marcus barely moments ago. There was nothing. Froy’d softened, as if Marcus’ words got through to him, resounding in him. An invitation to say more. Welcoming Marcus’ attempts at stroking his ego. And I could see the face he made. He only made it working at my desk, lost in focus. Thought. “And now you’ve got this… this… ability to just take that size and make sure you’re always the biggest one in the room. And you just love taking up space, don’t you? You love how your feet thud with every step. That never happened before, back when you were small. You love that feeling of your hair scraping the tops of doorways, or in your case I guess the ceiling. I’ve never been big enough to hit the ceiling. But you are. And you love how you can just hold me up like this, just by my neck up on this shitty bathroom mirror. I could just… swing my itty-bitty foot out forward like this”—Marcus swung his foot, bumping his toes into the swell that was fast forming in Froy’s crotch—“and just tippity-tap your big jalopy, and it’d make you get all nice and hard for me. Can you admit that? I see it, you know? I could feel it with my toes. You’re getting hard for me. Just like Dory does.” He glanced my way. “Isn’t that right, little buddy?” Froy’s breathing grew weighted. And so was mine. Slow. Intentional. The case wasn’t the same for Marcus; his chest was huffing exasperated, adrenaline. I could see the subtle twitches in his coy grinning. The drunken fool he came in as was masked by the face of someone in full control of his effect on those who admired him. There was still almost a foot in height difference between the two — it was obvious, however, who the biggest man among the three of us was. The guy who held the strongest presence. Someone who got what they wanted, knew how to get it, and never doubted himself. I wondered what being that person felt like; but I never did feel it. All I could do was live vicariously through someone who lived that privilege. Enjoyed the things in life someone like me never could. I had always been an enabler. But that was my problem — I never knew when to stop; I never knew when enough was enough, because it wasn’t my thresholds being tested. “You got so used to being the guy everyone looked up to. But that’s not who you wanted to be, right? You’re just a boy. You haven’t even graduated from college yet. You grew up following other people’s orders, letting other people control you. Or would you call it protecting yourself? You might love tossing Dory around in bed and acting like the big man, but you’re just an overgrown schoolboy out here. And I know how much you loved it when I was suddenly as tall as you one day. Right? Then taller than you and bigger than you the next. You’d never seen anyone as big as me before who didn’t look like their mom got their looks from a compost bin. So, you just love how strong I am, huh? You love that I could always grow bigger than you. How I’m still going to grow bigger than you. Even as gigantic as you are now. You still can’t believe how you’re holding me up by my neck, and I can still talk at you like this.” The room buzzed with tense anticipation, offering heavy silence for Marcus to continue prodding Froy’s unspoken thoughts. It was hard to believe that Marcus of all people could articulate all my boyfriend’s subconscious static noise into words. I wondered where he’d been hiding that side of him. Marcus sober was a far cry from the indulgent freak he was when drunk. Froy hadn’t uttered a word since Marcus breathed life into a shadow I was afraid would consume me. Had he really been crushing on Marcus the whole time we’d been dating? Even if he was, I wasn’t as upset as I expected — and that was an unsettling realization, and I refused to acknowledge the whys. It wasn’t anger or betrayal welling up inside me. It was worse: It was envy. Lost, confused, and unable to land on a target to focus on. “Now carry me up to your face, Fro-yo,” Marcus said, strumming Froy’s forearm like guitar strings. As ordered, Froy lifted Marcus up to his face, close enough for Marcus to whisper in his ear. The 6’4” meathead smiled wider as he floated upward. Again, he was getting what he wanted. “You asked me what I was trying to make Dory do? Do you still want the answer to that question, big boy?” Froy bobbed his head in a half-hearted nod. Marcus pounced in the next heartbeat and engulfed my boyfriend’s mouth with his liquor-soaked lips. They were kissing, and Froy’s panic went up in steam, now putty in Marcus’ capable hands. He’d broken his neck out of Froy’s hold. Keeping him propped up high enough to prolong his vigorous lip action were his elbows, stabilized high on Froy’s diagonal traps. A foot off the ground. There were no hands on his waist or foothold beneath him. Their mouths were melded in concrete, and Froy’s consciousness was enmeshed in Marcus’ web. I wanted it to end. But things never went my way — it was never going to be easy. The kiss evolved into a full-blown make-our session, tongues locked and tied between moist lips. Moans escaped their mouths as they lost themselves in the fury of one another’s heat. Then Froy glanced at me. And his body froze, all the while Marcus continued ramming his mouth against his face. “What’s the matter? Isn’t this what you guys want?” Marcus teased, slurring his speech. A million words bounced between the glint in my and Froy’s eyes. There was no judgment, but there was scrutiny. We were testing the waters that stirred between us, wondering which word or thought would tip the boat and send us drowning. I didn’t want to believe there was any malice in his intentions. He was young enough still to have a libido that could supercharge a reactor; what his primal instinct drove him to do was out of my control. There was no way a guy like me was going to satisfy all his needs by myself, after all. It was eventually going to lead to compromise, and he wasn’t oblivious to what I thought of Marcus. If there had to be ignorance between us, the fault fell on me: What else hadn’t Froy told me, I wondered. That indirect betrayal stung more than I realized at the time. The wound it left behind never really closed. But I was too distracted by his round, almost lychee-shaped eyes, to pin down my feelings. Instead, I almost felt his eyes pleading into mine. In the split second he happened to glance my way. As if he were asking for permission. Wrapped in regret. Who was I to be mad? How could I have been? Marcus and Froy were two of my biggest fantasies given life and delivered to my doorstep. There were as many stars in the night sky as the number of times I finished jacking off to the thought of either of them playing their roles in my head. And one of them was my boyfriend — or at least someone I was meant to be dating. It couldn’t have been any more perfect: me, a voyeur, witness to two walking behemoth manifestations of a fetish I’d grown up with my whole life. And one I helped awaken in them. A part of me instinctively wanted to say no. The lingering sentiment in the back of my head afraid of being left behind, being left alone. Tossed to the side. Because how was I going to ever be enough for two growing muscle-hungry men? A big man needed a big partner. And, knowing Marcus, Froy, even Wes, there was no better person to help emphasize the abominable size difference they lorded over the common folk than someone they trusted. But would them growing till their heads exploded out of ceilings while I shrunk in the palm of their hands be enough to keep me a part of the fantasy I ached to help create? Or would me enabling them be the reason I lost them? Going against my gut, I gave Froy a subtle nod. Despite everything, the shit happening in that men’s room was mutating my desire to watch them fuck into a need as essential as breathing. Marcus caught on. He shot me a wink. With my blessing, Froy went feral. He tore away Marcus’ shirt, or whatever rags of it hid what little skin was still unexposed. All that remained were his daisy dukes and the black shard necklace that wrapped around his neck like a choker. Marcus’ unflexed muscles jounced ferociously as the fabric clung to his overly muscled mounds in desperation. His great fleshy pecs that shared two halves of a melon bounced twice in the violence. And as if his body had been freed of its prison, there was almost a visible swell in his already volleyball-sized shoulders that broadened the horizon of his mugshot even wider. There was scarcely a pinky finger’s worth of space between Froy’s and Marcus’ pecs, unbelievable if not obscene at an average height but monstrous on theirs. With a mighty huff, Froy tossed Marcus up towards the ceiling, catching him by the waist. A thud boomed in the men’s room as Marcus’ head broke through the ceiling. “Hey, don’t play so rough, buddy,” Marcus droned. “My brain’s not exactly my biggest muscle.” A muffled ‘sorry’ later, and Froy spun on his heel, slamming Marcus’ back against a closed toilet stall door. The hinges were newly installed. Plus, the doors opened outwards. But no wood could hold fast against Marcus’ almost 300-pound 6’4” frame. His V-taper had always been as broad as his torso was long; packed with enough ever-growing beef to feed a family’s week’s worth of food, it wouldn’t have been long until his pecs and back jutted far enough to turn his upper body into a perfect pyramid, his 33-inch waist being the point of convergence. A screw was dislodged the second Marcus collided with the stall door, and I saw it roll out toward me. There were still splinters and fragments of wood surrounding it. Reinvigorated by my consent, Froy mauled Marcus’ face with the ferocity of a wild dog. I was worried at first that he’d lost interest in me — but I caught him darting his eyes my way, scanning my face with dilated pupils, then glancing back at Marcus, as if imprinting my façade onto the blonde mini-giant. That was what I wanted to believe. It happened too often to be just him worrying about how I felt. “Do you mind…?” Marcus asked, exasperated. “I’ve gotta nut real’ bad, dude. Fuck me.” Froy drove Marcus’ body further up against the stall door and squatted. There was now just enough room for Froy to hold Marcus’ entire body up, still pinned against the weakening stall door. I still vividly remembered the events of that afternoon — how I nearly suffocated trying to get Marcus’ growing enormity out of my mouth before it exploded my throat. He still didn’t know it was me; and he wouldn’t, not until he ever got his glory hole-busting manhood lodged back in my esophagus. But he was growing way too fast for that to ever happen again. Froy bit into Marcus’ last piece of clothing and tore it clean off, releasing the over-foot-long fleshy pipe that flopped down Marcus’ right thigh. The thing didn’t look human — just perceiving it from the short distance between us caused my ass to clench. How I ever got that thing in (much less out of) my throat was a miracle and a half. Marcus’ cock wasn’t even fully hard, I could tell. It was still snaking longer ever so slightly, fattening more so as blood rushed into it. In their intense shared awe of the monolith of white flesh between them, both Marcus and Froy caused another screw to come loose. As the penis neared full hardness, another explosive sound caught me off-guard. It came from below Marcus, black fabric floating down as another white erection double the girth of Marcus’ rocketed up towards Marcus’ plump ass cheeks. Froy’s erection then stopped at the entrance to my coworker’s anus — the head had become too big to fit into an average person’s sphincter. So it remained hard as steel, propping up Marcus by the ass, while Froy continued holding him by the muscled wings that wrapped around his torso. Froy’s nudity didn’t seem to register. Once Marcus was at full mast, my boyfriend engulfed the entirety of Marcus’ impossible cock in one go. His nose was buried in Marcus’ day-old-shaven crotch. It was impossible not to hear a heavy tongue slapping against and coiling around Marcus’ penis. Marcus and I shared surprised looks — but he was the one smiling. I was more in shock at the hunger that Froy had for a disco stick that challenged his in size. Because he never had that energy whenever it was my turn, whenever we had fun. My inferiority insecurities were bubbling to the surface like scum, and they were flaring up something fierce. Froy had never been more driven by lust than he was giving Marcus the blowjob of a lifetime, in front of his supposed boyfriend. “Fuck me! Fuck, fuck, fuck…!” Marcus moaned, gritting his teeth, chewing his lower lip to temper his hormones. And Froy would still glance at me, and Marcus would catch us sharing looks, and the mega-buff corporate gym rat would smirk. “I’m gonna cum, Froy! Oh, fuck, pup’. I’m gonna pump out the fucking load of a lifetime!” Marcus yelled, erratically. “O-Open wide…!” Marcus groaned loud enough to be heard from outside. And both he and Froy jerked their heads back, displaced by the recoil of a nuclear orgasm I could hear from where I was standing. Visible clumps of cum were sinking down Froy’s throat, dripping down his chin, landing on his cock in waterfall splatter. It continued for a solid minute. And as it reached its tail-end, the fragile illusion of peace was upended. My ears heard nothing else. The same went for my eyes; the obscene pornography I got to watch for free didn’t matter, not when I felt the world shrink into a small little black pebble on the ground — the high-pitched clink of a meteor shard falling onto the tiled bathroom floor. “Oh, shit,” I mumbled. The future I’d envisioned had sublimated into nothing. It happened in an instant; all the messy possibilities I’d tried so hard to avoid had suddenly returned to the foray with a vengeance. “Oh… fuck…” Marcus’ muffled voice said. My feet sprinted to the bathroom door without my instruction. The rest of my body on autopilot, my brain in the aether. It was too much in one go. I was only one man. But inexplicably, I didn’t leave. I wanted to flee, and hide, and pretend I had nothing to do with what was bound to happen behind me. I didn’t want to have to keep being the guy who did all the babysitting — responsibility never fit my lifestyle. Instead, I realized why I’d run to the door in the first place: Someone was approaching, so I locked the door. The knocking on the door snapped me out of my stupor. “It’s occupied!” I yelled. A man’s voice came from outside. “What’s going on in there? We’ve been getting complaints about yelling.” “We’re dealing with some fucking problems right now, alright?! Go use the toilet across the hall or something!” As if things couldn’t get any worse, the stall door holding Marcus up had torn off its hinges and fell against the toilet. “Oh, fuck… me… my ass!” Marcus yelled. I could hear his elbows colliding with the surrounding walls, tight on space. And Froy trying to help him out wasn’t making things any less difficult. “Sir, this is security. If you’re involved in damage of property, drugs, violence, or sexual acts, I’ll need to write you up in my office for a report!” “I said it’s nothing! Just go away already! Can’t I take a dump in peace?” “Sir, are you defecating at the entrance to the men’s room?! Sir! Open the door!” “I said fuck off!” “Sir!” The knocking turned into banging, thudding my body against the heavy wood. “Sir!” Ignoring the man outside, I glanced at Froy to hurry up with the cleanup. But he was too preoccupied to understand as fast as he usually did. Unable to control my worry, I abandoned my post at the door. Froy’s far-reaching mountain range of a back was blocking my view of Marcus. He maneuvered to let me through. A body as large as his was a beacon of flame, and the air around him had warped into a heatsink, making it difficult to see. And the hot mist emanating from both men burned my nose. I lost my breath the instant I saw my best friend. He was barely seated on the black porcelain toilet. The wrecked stall door was pinned under his mammoth legs — and the two dividers at either side barely left a finger of space from his shoulders. The big guy was delirious, his deliberately tousled locks now soaked with sweat, frayed, and hanging down his face. Panting had replaced his usual calm breathing, and his smile was quivering in surprising weakness. I had never seen him look so animalistic before. This wasn’t the usual man-child who pestered me every waking moment — it was a beast of a man who’d had a taste of carnal sex. Marcus’ crazed eyes settled on me as he slammed his fists into the dividers holding him in. The wood crackled; the air cracked with the force of thunder. And then he laughed. His voice carried like a maniac. It caught me off-guard, the power in his volume, and I stepped back, lodging my neck into the trench between Froy’s supple chest. I reminded myself to thank my boyfriend for his airbag tits. It wasn’t the first time those beach balls saved my life. I didn’t feel Froy’s hands hoist me up by my sides a second later; I was absorbed in what Marcus was experiencing. His boisterous laughter never faltered. I’d never seen him so unhinged before — it was the overloaded energy of a kid being tickled into an aneurysm. His long legs were jackhammers that pounded the tiles close to my feet, and I feared my polished shoes were in danger of being struck by a mallet. “Fuuuck! Fuck, fuck… What the hell is going on?!” Marcus moaned, his sanity floating back to him. Still, his chest pounded erratically with the influence of lingering emotion. I forced myself to speak. My tongue felt unnatural in my mouth. “Are you alright?”” “Did I do something wrong?” Froy asked, the hands at my sides now trembling. “Marcus, did I hurt you? I—” “Pup. I don’t think being blown is supposed to feel like I’m being tickled with—ungh—electricity from the inside out. You wouldn’t believe the blowjob I got earlier; like, it was something out of a porno or something. If I was going to get tazed like this after getting sucked with a vacuum, I think I would’ve noticed.” “Are you feeling alright?” I asked. “Do you need help getting to the infirmary?” My body tensed at the thought of carrying someone over twice my weight in dense muscle. “I’ll carry him,” Froy said to me. “I’m the biggest one here, so you don’t need to worry about him, sir.” Marcus waved us away and softened further on the toilet seat. “I don’t need help! What makes you guys think I’m in pain?” Froy looked down at me from his vantage point, his face only visible through the slit of his chest. Even from the poor angle, I could see the concern in his eyes. “Do you have any idea what this feels like? You wouldn’t, Dory, but your giant dunce should.” Marcus twiddled his fingers, play-flexing his swollen arms with zero effort. “The little buzz that hums and makes your muscles feel alive, like a little fire that sparks your nerves with ten billion little jolts of energy. It always came just before I would end up growing, like a drug.” I didn’t know what it was about getting drunk that made him so talkative, but I couldn’t predict what he’d say next. The Marcus in my head was predictable. Sober. It terrified me how much hold over the situation I was losing through the gaps in my fingers. What was worse was how I was just letting it happen. My constant whining about losing control never fully sunk in — not until I realized how afraid I was of loosening the leash I held on Marcus. I was witness to his metamorphosis from attractive office guy to musclebound porn star; with it came the understanding that his transformation was as much in my control as it was in his. A belief I let myself believe. I didn’t like being wrong. It was always Marcus somehow proving me wrong. “But this buzz is hitting times a fucking thousand right now! This is crazy. You guys should probably get out of the splash zone! I can feel it, man. Oh, yeah, it’s fucking coming and it’s coming hard and fast and oh, shit—” Marcus moaned with the savage intensity of a pregnant delivery. He slammed his palms into the dividers at his side as he splayed his brutish legs out to either side. I was trapped in his field of vision, backed against Froy’s immovable abdomen. Then it happened, faster than I expected. More than I expected. More than it had ever happened before. I caught it first in his fingers. Vascular appendages that extended from vein-riddled calloused hands. Minuscule changes at first but quickly picking up speed as the rest of his body followed. His feet in my peripheral vision readjusted every few seconds, stretching further and further away again from the gourd of beef that spilled out from the toilet, obscured from vision. The rest of Marcus’ body was evolving dramatically, unleashing a humid heatwave that drew out sweat from inside me. I was spectator to the live inflation of a blimp shaped as one of my best friends. My eyes were drawn to the bounce and jiggle in Marcus’ spherical pecs as they rhythmically pulsed outward. Bigger, then bigger again. Two domes that flared out wider than his ribcage. Each second that passed forced them to swell further outward and sideward. Darkening shadows that wrapped around each voluptuous breast, rounding out into a deepening trench that cut between. His tan, pink nipples enlarged to compete against a chest that threatened to consume his torso with pecs and obliques that bordered on godlike. Each areola now hovered further out than my shoulders were wide; and though Marcus remained seated, I braced myself for the incoming reality that I would seen be looked down upon by his tits’ plump nubs that begged to be suckled. Abs that were never hidden to begin with were rising from his core with the fury of yeast in the oven. Calves that had more muscle in either leg than I did in my whole body, and comically small knees that gave each leg its own hourglass figure, now edging closer to me than I was comfortable with. It was slow, but I wasn’t oblivious. Marcus was growing so fast that the space I had to move was being invaded by the explosive birth of a man-sized planet. His knees (or more accurately his hamstrings) collided with the dividers simultaneously with two half-pumped beach balls he carried as shoulders. As the outer edges of Marcus’ jugs neared the stall dividers, I failed to notice why his egregiously massive arms were slowly eating into his pecs’ space. The original reason he always appeared stronger than he really was, the seedbed of his perfectly triangular upper body — his most defining asset, his crowning glory: two colossal shoulders that challenged every shirt with sleeves he dared to wear. Bowling balls wrapped in smooth flesh warping the dividers holding him in. His shoulders squeezed forward, caging his engorged pecs between two upper arms. I hadn’t noticed the space there was for him to maneuver inside the stall had been overtaken by his expanding musculature until the dividers creaked in pain. “Fuck me; I can’t move! Big. So big. I can’t—ungh—move my damn arms!” His pecs were getting compressed into two impossible globes that glowed pink with pressure. I reached out to help him. But I was stopped by one of his lengthening toes steadily crawling up my shoe. Marcus needed no support; despite his drunken incoherence, he managed to shuffle his burgeoning arms up the dividers and lift himself off the toilet. Taller and taller, then taller again, he rose. His face visibly strained as he toiled away in his great escape, atop a volcanic neck that added to the illusion of a red-hot body escaping from its prison. It was obvious from the way he continued to wiggle upwards that he was rising more than he did before. 6’4” was the height he came in at, already taller than most men in the world. Even Froy was increasingly intimidated at the behemoth forming in front of us. 6’7”, maybe 8” — or 9” — was an estimate. But every passing second proved me wrong as the numbers, each measurement, climbed ever higher. Up and up his coy handsomeness rose until his head-sized shoulders finally escaped their wooden confines. Two beanbags of shoulder muscle spilled out into the other two stalls, looming close enough to make 7’6” Froy somehow look weak in comparison. He groaned in sore relief, but his celebration was short-lived. Marcus had grown big enough to lift his arms up and over the stall dividers, but the next problem was all too apparent as I stared, eye-level, into the slit between his pecs where I could fit my hand. I was living in a 5’10” body — but I was eye-level with two pink saucers that within the next second were pointing down at me. Nipples. “Shit, finally, some space. More room to grooow!” I’d lost track of how big he was becoming. His obliques rippled like ocean waves, ceaselessly pulling his torso impossibly wider with every passing swell. I couldn’t see his face anymore. Not unless I parted his pecs the same way someone would trying to explore a jungle. But I knew he was grinning like a psychopath from his view so close to the ceiling. “Froy…” he mumbled from somewhere above me. “Feeling scared yet? Are you ready to feel small again? ‘Cause I can feel it. It’s coming. I’m gonna be bigger than you like I should’ve been from the beginning!” As if his words triggered something, his growth exploded in ferocity, filling his frame with countless pound after pound of soft, unflexed muscle. Tough as lead. Unstoppable power. He was bigger, stronger, taller, wider, and whatever other -er there was to describe the musclebound megalomaniac than he ever was before. Even back at the La Vida Resort, he’d never been so immense. If the staff from back then could see him in that toilet stall, their hearts would’ve probably burst at once. His barrel-shaped thighs and pyramidal obliques collided with the divider walls in a synchronized attempt at destruction. I peered at Froy to gauge his reaction. And I noticed something nightmarish. My little head was stuck in a shrinking valley between two mountain range chests at what was equal level well above my hair — but one of them was still noticeably rising over the other. “Where the hell’d you go, Dor’? I can’t see you past my tatas.” Marcus was still growing, and I could hear him chuckling, and the wooden dividers were being forced off their hinges by a torso that made doorways look slim, no matter how he rotated. It would’ve been impossible for anyone his size — Froy’s size — to jimmy themselves into a claustrophobic cell. Getting out was a different problem altogether. His legs needed one behind the other just to fit inside the stall. That was when I realized there was really only one way out. The lethal cock cradled by two pendulous softball testicles made me understand what a man’s penis the size of a baseball bat would’ve looked like. “Holy fuuuck, you guys. I can’t breathe fast enough. I’ve never grown so much before! And I’m still growing! Look at me go, Dory.” My brain stopped registering when the stall finally filled with Marcus’ supersized muscles. Froy tugged me back and tucked me safely in his arms. He was more acutely aware of what was happening than I ever was in the moment, and it should’ve been obvious: the dividers weren’t going to hold much longer. Marcus, using his mountainous girth of his torso, took a deep breath, flexed, and exploded the divider walls off their hinges, collapsing the thick wooden panels into the vacant stalls at either side. His massive body was no longer held up by the dividers, propping him up by the armpits. He fell back down onto the toilet. The combined force of gravity on his mass together with his body’s unyielding rigour fractured a part of the black ceramic. All at once — the dividers, the ceramic, the damaged plumbing, and Marcus — the men’s room erupted in a hundred noises at once, and I couldn’t help but notice Marcus was still grinning and laughing. At me. He was still looking at me in the eyes, level, even half-seated. His body had grown too big for a single stall to contain, and the growth flooded into his body, forcing him to fit into three. As he rose to his feet, wet from the waist down with clean toilet water, the air shook with fear. His messy blonde hair was tickling the underside of the ceiling. The eight-foot-tall ceiling. He was taller than Froy. Bigger than Froy. 7’6”, 600-pound Froy. Larger than any man had any right being. He leaned way forward, just to gloat and smirk down at my much littler face. “Looks like prime beef’s back on the menu, boys! So, how do you like me now, Dor’?”

Chapter 6 CW: This chapter includes a character using the F-slur. They're a bad person and are treated as such. Just a heads up, discretion is advised, etc. "Do NOT get into trouble" Brie says, lifting on to her tiptoes and planting a kiss on Adam's cheek. "Who, me?" He asks innocently as a wicked grin plays across his square jaw. "I mean it! I don't want to be dragged away from my vacation to clean up after some stupid stunt you've pulled." "Okay, mom. I thought it was enough that I had to bring my grandpa along…" He shoots a look at Trent, who stands a way off, waiting for the two to finish. He'd recently decided to grow out his beard, a process that took about three days from the decision to stop shaving. The upkeep had just become too much of a nuisance. Trent wondered whether it was just the way he was, or if it was the shot affecting him; Adam wondered how many different ways he could tease him for it. "Listen to your mother," Trent says dryly, and turns away. The two were going to kiss. He didn't mind it - any feelings of jealousy were long dead now - but they could get a little excessive for anyone's taste. Five minutes later, Adam shuts the door for her and bangs twice on the top of the van, and she waves as she pulls away. The two boys shoulder their belongings and begin the walk down to the path to the beach huts. "Aw man, I'm so fucking hyped! Are you hyped?" Adam says, almost jumping up and down in excitement. Trent was worried it would register on the Richter scale. "Yeah, I'm hyped," He says, a little more composed than his buddy. "Well, you could act like it! Besides, you've got more reason to be happy than me. You get all the fun of a boys holiday, AND a constant selection of eye candy!" Trent shakes his head, but he can't hide his smile no matter how much facial hair he's grown, nor the blush that spreads across his cheeks. He hadn’t been quite sure how Adam was going to react to his coming out, but he needn't have worried. If anything, he was TOO supportive. "Aw, don't play coy. Poor Trent, the hottest single guy on the beach surrounded by studs..." "Knock it off. We're almost there..." The two round a corner and are greeted by a treat for the eyes - and, Trent had to admit, for him even moreso. The view is gorgeous, the only clouds in the sky a white wisp on the horizon that helps to distinguish between the deep azure of the sea and otherwise blemishless sky. To their left, a coastal path winds up atop some low cliffs, a mile and a half beyond which they can see the boardwalk which is beginning to buzz with visitors even this early in the morning. To their right, in this secluded part of the bay, there’s a small row of beach huts, with large doors that open out the white sand in front of them. And everywhere they looked, they saw familiar faces. The boys had travelled together, all pooling funds to rent a small bus for the ride over - the sheer lack of legroom preventing Trent and Adam from doing the same. They’d obviously arrived a little earlier, and had wasted no time. Some of them play a game of volleyball, several of them are splashing in the gentle waves, a few hang closer to the huts in the shade, enjoying a beer or two with some lunch. And all of them topless. Granted, for this group of young men, it wasn’t the most shocking thing. Trent couldn’t remember a single hangout with them where at least one person hadn’t stripped, but to see all of them, now, a buffet of different cuts of beef… Adam maybe, kinda, sort of… had a point. A little. “Okay, I’ll admit. I’m pretty hyped.” Trent says. “Glad to hear it!” Despite the heat of the sun, Trent’s blood turns to ice. It wasn’t Adam who had said that, but he knew the voice very well. He turns and, stepping away from the shade of one of the beach huts, dressed only in a pair of shorts and sandals, is Sebastian. “Place looks fucking dope! How have you been little guy, it’s been a while?” Trent turns to look at Adam, who stares at Seb unblinking. His jaw is set and brow furrowed, as if trying to work him out. It becomes very clear to Trent that this is as much of a surprise to Adam as it is to him. It also becomes pretty clear that the two look… pretty evenly matched. Seb is easily taller; a horrifying thought, since Trent knew Adam had recently ticked over to 7’9”. Had Seb hit 8ft? If he hadn’t, it was close. Despite that advantage though, Adam just looked… bigger. Broader across the shoulders, larger arms, bolder legs. Adam had been pushing it hard for more than half a year now, and with the aid of Trent’s training tips. It appeared to have been paying off. It didn’t phase Seb, however, who pays Adam no mind. He looks down at Trent with that same condescending smirk as always. “We weren’t expecting you,” Trent states, ignoring the question. Answering it would mean acknowledging the insult, which he wouldn’t give the time of day. He was done thinking of himself as small. “No? I did wonder where my hand-written invite was, I thought it’d got lost in the mail,” Seb snarks. “Relax, I got invited the same as everyone else. Word of mouth, right? My man Justin clued me in, I’m all paid up, and I’m here to have a good time. You’re not looking to start something are you?” Trent is about to argue the preposterous notion, but Adam interrupts him. His words are slow and deliberate, his hands balled into fists. “Seb - a word. Come with me.” “Nah, I think I’m good here thanks.” Seb says, folding his arms. “If you want to pick a fight, I want everyone to see who’s to blame for it.” “Oh, I want to pick a fight, alright,” Adam continues in a low voice, that only the three of them can hear. “But lucky for you, my bro here and I are looking for a nice, peaceful vacation. What I need you to understand, though, is I’m about a second away from turning your face into jelly at any given moment, you get it? So if you do anything - anything at all to this man here, you’ll have me to answer to, do you fucking understand?” “Woah, get a load of Liam Neeson here!” Seb laughs, clasping his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Aw, I missed you, man - you’re always good for a laugh. But don’t worry. I’m here for the sun, sand and senoritas, just like you boys. If it makes you happy, I’ll keep out of your way. You won’t even know I’m here. Good to see you both, though.” He smiles at the two of them, before heading out onto the beach and towards the ocean. Adam looks down at Trent, eyes wide with concern. “I swear, dude, I had no idea th-” “I know man,” Trent responds, putting his arm around him. “And thanks for standing up for me. Hopefully, you won’t need to anyway. Maybe he’ll behave.” And yet, with the sinking feeling in his stomach, Trent knew that wasn’t the case. ------------------------------------------- That feeling continued throughout the day, though Trent tried his best to squash it down. He and Adam had found their hut - the last in the line, the other’s having grabbed the more central ones already - and dropped off their things. It was modestly decorated which suited them fine - it made pushing the two, superfluous single beds out of the way all the easier. They were both too tall for them, and too broad to make curling up in them a sensible idea. But they’d come prepared, with camping mattresses and blankets, and soon they each had a comfortable place to sleep on the floor. They’d grabbed some food, chatted with some of the guys about their journey, and began to enjoy their vacation - for the most part. Trent couldn’t stop his eye from wandering whenever he wasn’t part of the conversation, to the hulking figure who was always easy to spot. To his credit, there was nothing insidious happening so far - he was running up and down the beach, or lying on the sand, or dipping in for the bathroom. “Hey, TRENT! Heads up!” Trent had been watching Seb from the distance as he stood out in the sea, the water up to his waist, throwing a ball around with Adam and some of the other guys - not the best position to be distracted in. Fortunately, his reflexes were quick enough to snap out of his distraction and leap up to make the catch in time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to take stock of his surroundings. He hears a small yelp as he comes crashing back down into the water, followed by muffled bubbling - he barely even feels the guy he just jumped into. “Oh, shit - sorry man!” He discards the ball and sinks his arms under the water, pulling the poor guy out of it. The guy coughs and splutters, expelling some salty water from his airways. He looks shocked - which is fair, it’s not every day you’re almost flattened by some distracted giant - but also kind of… cute. He has sandy hair that’s shaved around the sides of his head, a slightly lanky but cut physique, dark brown eyes and fantastic lips - except of course, right now they’re engaged in the act of getting oxygen. “Sorry!” Trent repeats, “Are you okay?” “Yeah - ack! Cough-cough…” he splutters, “I’ll be - cough - fine.” “I really should be more careful, I didn’t see you there,” “Funny - cough - I noticed you.” “Ha! Yeah, I get that a lot these days, I guess. I don’t think I’ve noticed you around, before? Name’s Trent.” “Yeah, I know. I’m Lance,” he responds. “Ah, well, great to meet you! Sorry it’s not the best of first impressions,” Trent says, blushing slightly. “Can you, uh - can you put me down?” Lance asks. Trent had been holding him at arm’s length the entire time, the weight not even registering to him. He lets him down with another apology - the tip of the guy’s head is maybe level with his chin, which he guesses is actually pretty tall. But there’s something about the way Lance looks up at him… “I think I’ve had enough water for now. See you around, Trent.” He says, walking past him towards the beach. “Oh, yeah, see you around…” Trent says, watching him leave. Then he grabs the ball, and makes to throw it back towards Adam. ----------------------------- If the boardwalk had buzzed earlier in the day, it practically shakes with excited club-goers as the sun sets. Trent and Adam join a small posse of others as they padded along the coastal path and then down to the beachfront clubs, each with stupid grins on their faces as they find somewhere to set up for the evening - they were all a couple of beers deep already. Then find themselves in a beach front bar with a tacky, tiki theme - but the drinks are plentiful and cheap, from the first shot to the punch that followed it. They even have a fire-breather walking around, which was a fun touch, and something for Adam and Trent to watch as they pretty much babysit the booth they claim; the other guys are constantly up from their seats, trying it on with anyone that will give them the time of day. Adam’s phone buzzes, and his face lights up - both from the screen and the smile he gets - before tapping out his reply. “Aww, have you ever seen anything so cute?” Trent asks playfully, “No need to ask who that is.” “What can I say, I’m a lucky guy…” He answers, as the phone buzzes again. His eyebrow raises. “How is it that I’m playing the third wheel even when it’s just the two of us? Let’s see what’s made lover boy so happy-” Trent demands, reaching for Adam’s phone, but it’s snatched away from him. “She’s very drunk,” Adam says. “Well, if she’s sending drunk texts I’ve got to see. I promise I won’t make fun too hard,” Trent extends his hand still, but Adam shakes his head. “No, you don’t understand. She’s sending the kind of message she only sends when drunk. There’s not many spelling mistakes. It’s mostly pictures…” The two look at each other, before the smile curls on their lips, and they laugh with each other like a pair of naughty school boys. But their laughter is drowned out by a crowd of laughter, shouting and squeals coming from over by the bar. Trent looks over and his night is worsened, as most things are when they come into contact with Seb. The big man is surrounded by a bunch of other people - men and women, that Trent doesn’t recognise, cheering for him. With one hand, he holds a chair effortlessly above his head, sat atop which is a young woman in a bridal veil. She squeals in excitement as one of her friends films the scene on her phone. In Seb’s other hand he holds a pitcher of beer which he chugs to the chanting delight of his worshippers. With a sigh of victory, he finishes the pitcher and hurls it to the ground; it’s only plastic, but even so shatters into pieces with the force he uses. He sets down the bride-to-be and shouts out, “Wasn’t even even hard! Why doesn’t someone give me a challenge?” He’s very clearly wasted. Trent rolls his eyes and catches Adam’s. “Is this too much for you? The offer still stands, you know.” “Nah, it’s fine. He’s not doing anything wrong. I might get some fresh air though…” Trent responds. Adam smiles sympathetically, but stays to look after the booth. The cries and cheers die down as Trent heads out into the cool evening - the sun is just a slither on the horizon now, but the boardwalk is lit with neon and streetlamps, under which - on the wall overlooking the beach - Trent spies a familiar figure. He heads on over to it, and takes a seat on the wall. Lance looks up to him, “Oh, it’s you.” “Yep,” Trent responds, looking out across the dark water. “Me again.” “Do you always interrupt people like this?” “Nah, mostly I like to start conversations by jumping on folk instead,” he says it without a hint of a smile, which in turn causes a small one to break out on Lance’s face. “I can leave if you want me to, I just thought I’d come check on you.” “Well, now you have.” Lance says matter-of-factly. “How come I haven’t seen you around before?” Trent asks, ignoring the bluntness of his last comment. “Because I haven’t been around. I’m Aj’s cousin, he thought this would be a good chance for me to meet people, ‘cause I’ll be transferring to your college in the fall,” Lance explains. “And I guess you feel like a bit of a stranger, gotcha.” “It’s fine. I’m fine. It all just gets a bit…” “Like the oxygen in the room has been replaced by testosterone?” Trent asks. “Yeah. Kinda like that.” “I know the feeling.” “You?” Lance’s eyes boggle as he looks at him, “Sorry, it's just… look at you. You’re gigantic! I really don’t think you get the feeling at all.” “Well, I’ve not always been this big,” Trent shifts uncomfortably. “I was 5’10” this time last year.” Lance is almost dazed as he lets that number sink in, but then he shrugs. “This is that B-852 stuff, huh?” “You’ve heard of it?” “Yeah, AJ mentioned. Got a couple of inches out of it himself, but nothing like you guys. How’d you find it?” “Um…. strange. My start with it wasn’t exactly… orthodox. The last few months I’ve enjoyed the effects a lot more, but I dunno…” “You don’t know what?” Trent sighs uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I’d have been happier without it. I’ve gained a lot, learned about myself, but I’ve lost a lot too. Lost people I cared about. I’ve what I’ve been through… I’m happy where I am, but if I was given the chance to take it all back, I don’t know what I’d do.” “Oh.” Lance chews on Trent’s words for a few moments before concluding, “You’re crazy.” “Excuse me?” “You’re sitting there with so much, literally one of the biggest men on the planet. More than I could possibly dream for, and you’re second-guessing it?” Lance demands, dumbfounded. “You realize AJ only grew, like, 3 inches with it right?” “I’ve been incredibly lucky, I get that-” “And I can’t even get hold of any now, they’ve really cracked down on distribution. I’m gonna be stuck feeling so small around people like you.” Lance complains. “I mean, I might be able to help with that.” Lance perks up at this comment, but Trent continues, “But I don’t know that it’ll help.” “What do you mean?” “I’m happy enough with my size. It can be… fun. But my friends… I don’t like them because of their size, and they don’t like me for it either. I like them because of the people they are. I like Adam for his positivity, I like his girlfriend, Brie, for her honesty. Hell, I know a guy who’s 5’3” and straight-up the ballsiest person I’ve ever met. I, er - like him too.” Trent feels a little insecure about divulging the things he likes Aiden for. “That’s all very well and good, coming from Mr 7ft over here. You already have everything.” Lance argues. “How tall are you?” Trent demands, bluntly. “6 foot 6…” “6’6”!” Trent exclaims, leaping to the beach in front of them, his head now level with Lance’s as he turns back. “You’re 6 and a half feet tall and you don’t think you’re big enough? Can’t you see how fucked that is?” He points up at the bar, where the occasional crash of laughter still carries down to them, even at this distance. “You wanna see where that kind of thinking gets you? Go take a look. It isn’t pretty. I am intensely proud of the gains I’ve made, I am more than happy to show off the hard work I’ve put in - but seriously, man, my existence can’t stop you loving yourself.” He leans against the wall, closer to Lance. “You are tall. You are fit. You are gorgeous. And you can’t let people like that tell you otherwise.” Lance sits a little stunned, looking at the bearded face of the giant just inches from him. He can smell his aftersun. “Um - what was that last one?” Trent catches himself, aware of the intimacy of the position his put himself in, but doesn’t want to call attention to it by pulling away. He blushes, answers dumbly “You can’t let people tell you otherwise?” “No. You think I’m gorgeous?” Lance fidgets with his fingers. “Oh. Yes? I mean, yes. I do.” Trent responds. “I mean, it’s obvious, but - I think you are too.” Lance says, his eyes breaking contact with Trent’s. Trent pauses. It was obvious? Why would it be obvious? But as his brain creaks into gear to try and keep up with what his heart is already screaming at him, he eventually leans in, and kisses the boy. It isn’t a particularly good kiss. Both are clumsy and uncertain - but fortunately, they have plenty of time to put that right, as another follows, and then ten more. An indeterminate amount of time passes before they both come up for air, regarding each other with mirrored, goofy smiles. “Do you, uh… want to go somewhere more comfortable than a wall?” Lance asks. “Yeah… yeah I think I’d like that a lot,” Trent responds, and they head out on the path across the cliffs, back to the deserted beach huts. Neither of them notice the tall figure watching them leave from where he stands outside the bar. ----------------------- The next few days are everything Trent had hoped the vacation would be and more. He spends most of the days out with Adam and the boys, one day venturing out along the coast, another renting a boat to take them out and around the bay. And all the while snatching glimpses of Lance. The two don’t spend much time together during daylight hours, but when the sunsets, and people’s attentions are split by alcohol and other plans, it’s easy for the two of them to steal away and not be missed. On the fourth day, though, they manage to steal some alone time on the beach. Someone had mentioned the idea of a bonfire, and somewhere along the line, half of everyone on the boardwalk had been invited. The boys set about it like a military operation, with Adam acting as general - some of them drove to the local store for food and booze, some of them were making preparations back by the beach huts, and some of them sent beachcombing. It wouldn’t be much of a campfire without wood to burn, and Trent had been selected as chief pack mule for the further pieces of driftwood that could be found. “Are we hanging out again when it all dies down?” Lance asks. “Obviously,” Trent grins back to him, as another log is piled on the stack in his arms, “Although, you know I wouldn’t mind hanging out during. I’m not ashamed of you.” Lance blushes, but smiles, “I’m not ashamed either! It’s just… people are bound to talk, and I kinda like it just being… us, you know?” “Yeah, I do too,” Trent agreed. This was new ground for him. His experience of men so far had been Aiden, and a couple of his friends. But it was all very transactional - above board, and everyone knew what they were in for, but it was just sex with no strings. Lance was different. He actually felt something for him and he thought - he hoped - that the feeling was mutual. The two chatted and enjoyed the time in the sun together, until it was almost time for the party. They went to their separate huts to shower and change for the night, but as Trent steps out into evening air, looking for either Lance or Adam, he finds he’s instantly called away. “Yo, Trent! Big guy!” AJ calls, half-jogging up to him, “Could you give us a hand?” “Sure, what do you need?” “Some of the guys from over the other side of the bay drove over, but their car’s a heap of crap and gave out. A bunch of us are going over to help push them the rest of the way. Could really use someone like you, buddy!” he explained. AJ was always sort of… present. He was one of the mainstays of the group, and Trent was pretty sure he was one of the guys who organized this whole thing. He really ought to give him more time, and get to know him, Trent thought; particularly in light of who his cousin is. A bunch of them head out up to the road, and one or two have the common sense to bring torches. The car itself is about half a mile along the road, an old 90s era Ford that had clearly not been taken care of. “Sorry about this boys - but the trunk’s full of liquor, drinks are on us when we get there!” The driver, a short man with a little surfer goatee says, as his friends get out to assist in the push. They weren’t needed. As the guys pile around the back of the vehicle, it becomes obvious that most of them are waiting for Trent to take a central position, before two or three others flank him and brace to push. “Alright, boys, on three… one, two, push!” AJ calls, and the car rolls forward. The first ten or so paces go with a hitch. Then he notices AJ gawping at him, before he calls over to the guys on the other side. “Hey, are either of you actually moving this thing at all?” He asks, and they shake their heads in response. Trent is confused at first, but it dawns on him as one by one, they each let go of the vehicle. There’s no change to the reasonably light weight he feels; he’d been pushing solo the entire time. His first instinct is to play it off, or try and apologize - but then he reasoned, why should he? The looks he gets are of total awe, and for once, he decides to enjoy it. “Hey, driver - why don’t you put your foot down, see what this baby can do, huh?” He picks up the pace, walking faster before it becomes a light jog, much to the joy of the guys watch. They hoot and holler as he picks up more and more speed, forcing them to run alongside him. For the very last stretch, he breaks out into a full sprint, leaving all but a couple of the more agile guys in his dust, despite pushing a full vehicle along the road. This winds him a little - but not as much as he thought it would have. “Fucking hell dude - you wanna replace my engine full time? You’re a damn sight more reliable!” The driver says, jumping out of the car and coming to shake his hand. He pops open the trunk and, true to his word, starts passing out bottles, starting with Trent. Once everyone has something, he raises his glass. “To giant dude! The only man I’ve ever met with more horsepower than a ‘90 Ford Aerostar!” The others laugh, but join in with the call of “To giant dude!” --------------------------- Trent is in a good mood as he returns down to the beach for the party, flanked by the others who’d gone to the car. The sun has now set, and the red light of the bonfire casts long shadows over the sand. A couple of guys he recognizes keep watch over the flames, but the place is crowded with people he doesn’t know. It takes him a while to find anyone, and when he does his stomach lurches. On a makeshift bench, made from a large piece of driftwood, sits Lance. And, his arm draped over him and muttering something in his ear is Sebastian. Seb looks kind of red in the face, and judging by the amount of empties next to him, has good reason to be. Lance looks in pain - whether it’s from the literal weight of the giant leaning on him or the things being said, Trent isn’t clear, but he doesn’t care. He strides forward. “Get your fucking hands off him,” he demands. Seb looks up at him, a nasty smile breaking across his face, those his eyes are clearly unfocussed. “Ah! Here he is, Casanova himself. Me and lover boy have just been catching up. Who’d have thought you had it in you!” Seb says, not moving away. “I told you to get your hands off him.” Trent repeats through gritted teeth. Seb looks around, as people start to take notice. It is after all, what he wanted. Trent knew it. If he was the agitator there was plausible deniability. But right now, it didn’t matter. There was a sandy haired man who he’d loved spending the last few days with, and there was no way in hell he was going to let Seb take that away from him. Seb stands, but doesn’t move, rolling his shoulders as he looks down at Trent. “Oh… and what are you gonna do if I don’t, faggot?” Trent sees red, as he strides forwards and pushes Sebastian back with all his strength. It manages to knock him back a step or two, and the alcohol adds another for good measure, but the smile on Seb’s face never leaves. His eyes though: there’s murder in them. There’s shouts from the group of guys around them, and over the din he hears someone yell about going to get Adam, but none of them try to intervene. Trent didn't blame them. Barely any of them even reached his chin.. He was pretty sure he could handle anybody here with ease, and he shuddered to think what Seb might be capable of. Trent almost finds out for himself as a huge arm comes swinging over him, but despite his own bulk he's able to nimbly dodge out of the way. Then comes another, and Trent feels the displaced air from it against his face. It isn't until the third swing misses that Trent begins to interrogate that wild look in Seb's eyes. It's not just anger there; it's uncertainty. And then it dawns on him. Sebastian has never done this before. Back before the drug had changed his life, Seb was 5'8", slim, lithe. He was toned from cardio, but soft and weak. How many fights had he ever gotten into, Trent reasoned? And since then - well, his growth had been explosive. He'd shot up in height, piled on weight, easily becoming the biggest person on campus within a couple of months and he just got bigger. Nobody in their right mind would want to pick a fight with Big Seb. And so nobody did. Which is why his punches are so lame, Trent thinks. He's never actually punched anyone, and the only reason he's fighting me now is he's drunk and angry. Trent, on the other hand, had practically grown up fighting. He was on every sports team he could get onto in highschool, he spent his life around other jocks, and he'd done everything from play fighting, to wrestling, to out-and-out brawling. Sebastian was nothing like them; he was a titan, a contender for the title of largest person to exist, bigger than Trent in every way. So fucking what? Trent had been beating down guys bigger than him his entire life. As Seb's next lunge comes in, Trent ducks underneath his arm and moves closer. He delivers a kick to Seb's calf that knocks him down onto one knee, but Trent isn't done. Using the momentum of his kick he winds back, and as Seb's face drops closer to the floor, Trent lands an uppercut square on his jaw. The crack from the blow is earsplitting, echoed by a low "Oooh!" from the assembled spectators. Seb howls with pain and spits blood before sprawling his arms forward in an attempt to grab the smaller man, but Trent is too quick for him. He's already on his feet and out of reach of the giant. "You wanna call it quits?" he taunts. Seb's roar of anger tells him it was effective. Sebastian charges forward at him once again, but the lunge is easy enough to sidestep. From next to him, Trent places one arm on Seb and leaps, his powerful calves propelling him into the air. Seb turns to look at him, and lifts an arm to try and shield himself: too late. As Trent descends, he hammers another punch down on Seb, this time connecting with his nose. It bursts with blood, and Seb instinctively raises his hands to his face, which gives Trent yet another opening. He lands and dives forward, lifting his knee high to connect with Seb's stomach. As powerful as his abs may be, Trent is stronger. The air leaves Seb's lungs as he doubles over, shaking with a mix of rage, humiliation, and pain. The crowd looks on in stunned silence, first at the broken titan, then at the god of a man who brought him to heel. Trent pays them no mind. Judging his former friend to be done, he simply says "Clean yourself up and get to bed," before turning away. He sees Lance watching in shock, and opens his mouth to ask if he’s okay. Before he leaves the light of the campfire, however, there's the sound of breaking glass and cries of "No!" from behind him. Trent turns, too late, to see Seb bearing down on him with a broken bottle pointed to his neck, murderous intent still in his eyes. "Argh!" A huge shape bolts from the shadows the moment before Seb could reach him, one hand going to Seb's wrist, the rest of his equally huge form intent on tackling the man to the floor. Adam collides with Sebastian with all the force of a eighteen wheeler, and the two fly a good eight feet before landing heavily on the sand, the glass bottle skittering away from them. Seb groans in pain, but Adam is on him, hands going to the lapels of his shirt. "You listen here, you treacherous piece of shit; you aren't welcome here. You aren't welcome anywhere. And if I catch you trying to lay your grubby hands on any of my friends, I will put you the fuck down. Am I clear?" Seb can do nothing but cough in response. "I'll take that as a yes. Now get the fuck away from me, before I do it anyway." Seb is released and staggers to his feet, swaying as he clutches his face with one hand and his side with another. He leaves the light of the fire, and Trent watches as he heads up the coastal path and is swallowed by the dark of the night.

Hey muscle worshippers! Been a while since I've published something - so one horny night, I was reading through reddit posts and there was one about a guy being intimidated/emasculated by how athletic his friend had gotten. So I thought, what if someone posted about his dad becoming a jacked af muscle daddy? In that vain, I decided to write a story as a reddit post! Disclaimer: this story is 85% muscle worship but has a bit more foot worship towards the end. Enjoy, and happy cumming |---------------- Intimidated by Father’s Muscular Body ----------------| Hey fellow redditers – so I (M21) don’t usually post here but something happened the other day that I could really use your help with – nothing like reaching out to an internet full of strangers for advice right? Trust me that by the end of this you’ll get why I’d rather stay anonymous as opposed to asking my friends or, god forbid, my dad. Alright here it is. For context, I just wrapped-up my senior year of college and I usually come home about every 2 months – Christmas, spring break, and then summer break. Well, this year I decided to spend spring break with friends and did not have time to go back home – so I had been away from home from the end of December to the first week of June (today). This is important to my dilemma I promise. In October, so before Christmas break, he decided that he was going to pick up working out again. Back in his 20s my dad was actually pretty active and from photos I’ve seen he was in decent shape – nothing crazy – but nothing to scoff at either. Over the past 20 years though, he’s slowly fallen out of shape– up through October I’d say he was fit for a 52 year old but not anything extraordinary. He decided though that he had had enough and wanted to get as fit as possible. Now I’m sure all of us have heard someone say, “oh that’s it from now on I’m going to the gym and cleaning up my diet!” We’ve all heard the story, hell we’ve been the ones telling it – but usually these things last two weeks tops and then fizzle out (speaking from personal experience as well, no judgment). The thing is though, my dad was serious, and he stuck to it. Like really stuck to it. When I came home for Christmas break he was going to the gym 4 days a week and had significantly cleaned up his diet. I could already see some changes in his physique, but it was nothing over the top. Pretty standard given his new diet and exercise regime I would say. I didn’t think too much of it at Christmas time and then went back to school before coming back home for the first time in June. So, a few days ago I was kind of bored, my dad had gone to work, and I was starting to feel edgy from not doing anything. My dad had a guest pass to his gym so I decided to go if nothing else to pass time and just move. Well, I get to the gym and head into the locker room to put my things in a locker. This is where things go way off the rails and why I’m even writing this in the first place. Get ready because this is a doozy – I’m honestly trembling a bit even writing this . . . here we go. I walk up to a locker and I put my stuff in. I had the locker door open to my left so my face was obscured from the guy who walked around the bench behind me and came to a locker to my left. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I could tell from my peripheral vision that he was just in a towel. From what I could make out though this guy seemed pretty yoked and I won’t lie I got a little bit curious. I looked over and my first thought was, “holy shit, this guy is jacked!” I mean seriously, his arms were shredded, his obliques were showing even though he was barely moving, and his chest hung over and off of his frame. I can’t even describe it, but this guy was seriously jacked – not to mention clearly pumped from his workout. Just as I was about to glance over a bit more he reached for his towel and pulled it off – I immediately looked back towards my locker and finished putting my things away. I closed it and just as I was about to walk away the man next to me said, “oh damn, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Immediately recognizing the voice, I looked over to my left and who should be the jacked bodybuilder but my dad. I turned over and looked at my father who was now standing in front of me in just his boxers[b1] . Y’all. I cannot describe the next 5 seconds well enough. But it’s the whole reason I’m here. In those five seconds I honestly couldn’t help myself from just looking up and down at my father’s muscular body. How had my father gone from being a normal, run-of-the-mill guy to a bodybuilder?! The first second was just shock, but after that I couldn’t help but analyze the curves, definition, and vascularity of his body. His neck had firmed up, his shoulders had gotten bigger, his chest was beyond huge – like two very clear pecs separated by a line that went down to his abs. Oh my god – his abs. Guys I can’t tell you how emasculating it is to see your father with an 8 pack. Like your 52-year-old dad with a ripped 8 pack you’d see on a 22 year old. His arms were just as crazy. Somehow my father had gotten large, rounded biceps and he had veins running all along his arm. The dude looked like he was going to explode and he wasn’t even flexing. Then my eyes did a bit of a boomerang – within like a full second – I tried to not look directly at his boxers so I skipped past onto his thick, vascular quads. His shredded, striated, athetlic quads. The only problem is our brains are quicker than we’d like them to be. I couldn’t help but notice how filled out his boxers were so, against my better judgment, my eyes went back up quickly and then down. I’ll leave it at this – we’d like to think in our 20s we’ve really stepped into manhood. In that moment though, there was little doubt in my mind as to who’s manhood was bigger and it wasn’t mine. I let my eyes go back down in embarrassment past his bulging calves down to his vascular bare feet. Standing half-naked, mere inches away from me, my father looked muscular, vascular, and powerful. My dad had become a bodybuilder – and a damn good one at that. Apparently I had done a bit more of an up and down than I had realized though – my dad cocked his eyebrow and asked, “Checking out my progress?” Guys at this point I really didn’t have any words – my dad looked so masculine and strong. I was a bit caught-off guard, so I didn’t respond in time. Moving towards me he asked, “Little intimidated?” He asked with a half laugh. “Honestly a little bit.” I replied honestly – how could I not be?! My father was in front of me half-naked just casually talking to me with huge pecs, vascular biceps and quads, and shredded abs at 52 I’d kill for at 20. He looked down for a second and crossed his arms, arching his foot – like guys the pinacol of masculinity in that moment. His arms and pecs swelled up in size, as his calf became noticeably more defined. He looked at me with an oddly smug, but almost annoyed look. “Might not want to check my dick next time.” I swear I have never been redder in my entire life – he had noticed my eyes go back up. As though that weren’t enough though he continued. “My biceps and pecs are probably a lot to take in as it is.” He held out his right arm to flex his jacked, muscular, biceps, triceps, and forearms. It was like his entire arm erupted into vascular muscularity. Unsure of what to do I looked at his powerful biceps for a second before throwing my eyes to the floor figuring that would be better. In the oddest way though, seeing my dad’s bare feet against his muscular, powerful body only seemed to emphasize just how much more manly he had become. In all of this I just got an overwhelming sense of emasculation. Seeing my father so confident and muscular was a lot to take in. And apparently he knew it. A slight, genuine laugh came from his direction as I looked back up. He relaxed his flexed arms and brought his hands to his hips. “Are my manly feet a bit too much for you?” He arched his foot again and looked down, flexing his vascular calves. “By the looks of it my toes might be stronger than your arms.” He held his flex, his powerful arms casually hanging by the sides of his pumped pecs and cut abs – all while bringing his eyes back up to me with another eyebrow raise. “I assume you don’t disagree?” At the sound of this comment I went to bring my eyes up to his, but couldn’t help but stare at his muscular, protruding pecs. “Dad, you . . . you’ve changed so much.” A smirk came over his face. “Glad you like the changes.” He took a step forward closing the gap between us. He took a hushed tone. “I’d keep flexing my muscles for you but with all of this testosterone I’m about to pop a boner – and trust me, if you think my muscles and feet are intimidating, wait until you see these boxers fill out.” I pulled back for a second surprised at his comment. “Are you . . . horny?” He looked at me as though I had asked a stupid question, which, as you’ll see, I had. “Since I started working out my test has been off the charts. I might be over 50, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got more testosterone in my body than you do at this point.” He looked off to the side and then back at me with a look of pained honesty. “Are you rubbing one out almost two or three times a day?” He asked doubtfully. “Twice a day?!” I said in a hushed choke. He pulled back slightly and took a sympathetic tone. “Maybe getting an idea of who the man of the house is?” He looked down and then back up at me. “Alright let me get dressed I’m starting to get hard, and I feel like I might have already intimidated you enough.” Let me just say that at this point I was not even sure what was happening. I had just come to the gym to casually work out and pass some time because I was bored. Now, I was standing in front of my half-naked, muscular, pumped dad talking about how thick his dick was and how often he jacked off. In all of this though the thing that seemed to get to me the most was just how masculine he seemed. In just his boxers, talking about his body like that . . . it was . . . a lot y’all (I literally had to take a breath as I typed that out). Anyway, following his last comment, I just laughed a little bit and looked back down along his imposing frame. “I’m just . . . without words honestly.” He had started to reach for his shirt on the bench but stopped for a second. “Are you feeling a little insecure?” I opened my mouth to respond but for some reason no words came out – that was honestly a first for me. I was flustered. He folded his arms back over and raised his eybrows with a frown as though he were about to deliver harsh news (plot twist for me, he was!) “It might go a bit easier for you if you just . . .” he held his hands out against his impressively swollen biceps. “Accept I’m the alpha.” “What do you mean by that?” “Well for starters, I don’t wear much more than this at home anymore. So you’d better get used to seeing my muscles.” “You just walk around in your boxers?” I asked with a bit of surprise. “If you had ripped abs like these would you wear a shirt?” I looked at his 8-pack peaking out from under his crossed iron-like arms. “You do have some pretty ripped abs.” “Are you going to check me out every time you see me?” “I’m not checking you out!” I protested. He immediately rolled his eyes at my obvious lie. “You can barely keep your eyes off of my muscles.” He quipped back. I looked down, forgetting that even his legs and feet were just as intimidatingly masculine a the rest of him. “Or my feet it seems.” “Damn, uhm . . .” I looked off to the right trying not to laugh at how embarrassed I was getting. It was true though, he had changed so much I could barely keep my eyes off of any part of him. “Tell you what.” He paused for a moment before dropping his arms down, revealing their thick vascularity and his rock solid pecs. He took a step forward closing the gap between us. “Do you want to worship my muscles and feet later?” I nearly gave myself whip lash with how quickly I turned back towards him, this time looking him in the eye. “. . . what?” “I’m serious. Like I said, since I’ve started lifting and . . .” He held his arms out to the sides and flexed. “I have so much testosterone running through me. You’re lucky I haven’t bust out of these boxers yet. And by the time I get home I’m going to be ready to jack off.” He put his hands on his hips thinking of the right words. “So if you want to worship my feet a little bit, really appreciate how masculine and strong they are, we could both jerk off.” I cannot express how casually and nonchalantly he asked this, which somehow made it even more enticing. “Are you serious?” “Are you a little scared of sucking my strong toes?” He looked up and down my figure, “or licking the sweat off my biceps?” “You’ve just gotten so big . . . it’s a little intimidating seeing you without clothes much less being that close.” “Most men learn their place pretty quick when they suck my feet and worship my body.” He flashed a coy smile at me turning back towards his locker. “Most men? Are you like . . . sleeping around?” “Well let’s see, bodybuilder physique, 7.5 inch cock, insatiable sex-drive . . . do you think you’ll be the first college guy I’ve put on his knees?” And just for the record, I had somehow suppressed a raging boner at this point, but as I’m rethinking this in my head and typing it out . . . my pants are soaked guys. Unsure of how to respond to that I decided to just be honest. “I just never knew you were so dominant and manly.” “I’m sure it’s odd for you to think about, but like I said, I’m pretty sure I’m hornier than you are at this point. And as long as I’m being honest, I’m pretty sure my boners are harder than most 25 year old guys.” I looked at my father dumbfounded. How hard did his cock get? “My muscular feet don’t seem so bad now right?” “No, definitely not.” “Don’t worry though.” He slapped his hand on my shoulder. “You’re still going to take these masculine toes once we’re home. He started to walk by me before stopping at my side, leaning into my ear. He flexed his arm in front of me as he spoke, “You can wait in the lobby, I need to go jerk off first.” And with that very normal comment, he patted my shoulder with his firm hand and walked off. The entire ride home I felt like I was going to explode. Honestly, I pretty much rode home with a boner sitting next to my dad the entire way, knowing he had already finished himself off but was going to be ready for round two with me soon. He had already said that he usually jacks off twice per day, his testosterone was so high, hell just looking at his body you could see it. Once we were finally home we had only been in the door for a second or two before my dad threw his bag down. “Finally. I’m so fucking horny.” He breathed out. “Didn’t you just jack off?” I asked amazed. He looked at me with a cocky smile. “Didn’t you see the size of my cock?” I audibly gulped. “You did fill out your boxers pretty well.” “Get on your knees.” He said calmly, which I more than happily obliged. “So you know my cock is bigger, my muscles are bigger, my body is stronger right?” “No question at all.” I said. He took his shirt off but left his pants on. My father was now half-naked in front of me dominating me with his masculinity. “I want you to really get how much stronger I am than you though.” He looked down and then back up at me. “Try to lift my toes.” “What?” I asked with visible exhilaration. “Earlier when I said my toes were probably stronger than your body, I wasn’t joking.” He pointed his fingers to his toe and arched them up for a moment. Obeying his order I put my fingers under his big toe and lifted up, only for his entire foot to not even budge. I kept trying before he flexed his toe downward onto my hand. “Fuck!” I let you surprised at the preasure. He looked down at me, “Are you struggling a little bit? Daddy’s feet too powerful?” I put both of my hands under his left big toe and started to pull up but even with all of my strength I couldn’t lift his intimidatingly masculine feet. “Looks like my feet are stronger than your body after all.” “Fuck your one toe is.” He lifted up his foot and brought it to my face. “Feel how muscular my foot is.” I rubbed my hands along his foot, feeling the steel like smoothness of every inch. The hair and veins on the top only added to its masculinity. “Try and push my toes back again.” He said cockily. With all of the strength that I could muster I pushed both of my hands against his strong toes, but couldn’t even get them to budge. I kept trying before once again he pushed his toe downward moving both of my hands back. “You can’t even push back my big toe with both of your arms. Are daddy’s feet a little too much for you?” He asked still pushing both of my hands back as I grunted. “I don’t even need to use my pecs or my biceps. I can just submit you with my bare feet.” “God damn you are so strong.” “You better hope you don’t piss me off.” At those words I could actually see his fully erect cock twitch through his pants. He brought his foot back before smacking it against my cheek with a surprising amount of force. “If you can’t take the strength in my toes, you definitely don’t want to feel these biceps or lats.” He flexed his enormous biceps before arching his foot again causing his quads to flare out enough that they nearly showed through his pants. “Why don’t you feel the veins on my abs. Feel what a real man’s body is like.” Obeying his orders I rubbed my hands along his vascular 8 pack, savoring the feeling of his pumped veins and steel-like muscles under my fingers. I slowly caressed his muscles and veins before pausing and taking a deep breath in. “You’re so muscular and powerful . . .” I let my hands rub up further, nearly reaching his nipples hanging off of his thick pecs. “Could you . . .” I struggled to get the words out as my fingers reached his hard nipples. He lowered his arms down, and bounced his pecs under my hands. “Are you ready for daddy to throw you around a little?” From there . . . let’s just say that my father did way more than just throw me around . . . and I loved every second of it. As I’m writing this my ass still hurts from taking his thick cock (yes, it was just as thick as it looked in his boxers – if for some reason you guys are feeling particularly pervy I can give more details on that but just writing this my cock is already painfully hard). So there you have it! That’s my problem, I’m not even sure how to go about talking about this or what to do. My father became a bodybuilder, made me his little bitch, and I wouldn’t change any of it. Even though he’s already cum three times today (turns out he jerked off before he even got to the gym), he said he’d be ready for more worshiping. What do you all think? Should I stop? I feel like I should . . . it’s my dad. But then I see him without his shirt or without his pants and god damn. His body is too muscular and manly to resist. Fuck, okay, I’ve actually soaked through my pants, I’m going to pump one out and then come back for your comments.

Chapter 4 There’s no sound except for his own breath, a steady pant that’s dragged from his lungs, and the gnarled buzz of the gym lights. The mosquito drone of it bores into the back of his brain, already telling him to lift again. Trent had been going for two hours straight. With a sigh, he wipes his brow and gets back to work, curling the bar up to his chin for another set. What was he at? More than 200, at least. He’d figured out pretty quickly that actually seeing numbers caused issues for him - the weights became heavier. It’s like his brain couldn’t conceive of the feats his body was now capable of pulling off. So he tricked himself, just piling on weight until he found what soothed him. It wasn’t sensible, he knew, but he wasn’t doing it to be sensible. It was like a hunger, but more subtle than that; hunger would denote a craving, an ache that demanded to be satisfied. With this new drive, there wasn’t some force demanding to be appeased; the desire was fully in the driver’s seat. He awoke needing to lift, he barely made it through classes with only one thing on his mind, and when he finally got here, it wasn’t enough to simply work out. He needed to burn, to reach new heights, to go for more and more. He didn’t like to think about Seb - it still made him feel sick whenever he did - but he vaguely recalled this wasn’t the case for him. He never pushed himself to the absolute limit, he called it easy. Trent couldn’t conceive how that could possibly be true; how could he feel like this, and not need that pain? Did the drug affect people differently? Or was it perhaps some after-effect of the catalyst he’d taken, did he need to contact the lab to report the side effects? It didn’t occur to him, not for a moment, that it might not have anything to do with the drug. With an annoyed “tch”, Trent puts down the weight, near throwing it to the floor. He’s no longer alone. He didn’t need complete solitude, of course, though at this time of the morning he usually got it. But every day this week he’d been joined by the same person: Adam. On Monday, it seemed a coincidence. He liked to work out early, when it was quieter, but as he was finishing up, the place was certainly a little more crowded. Adam was just one of the faces in the crowd - or at least, roughly a foot above it. He simply stretched and got to work, never too close; but Trent caught him looking in his direction more than once. The next day, he resolved to arrive earlier and to finish before Adam did. But Adam arrived earlier too, and the following three days turned into a strange game of chicken, as Trent did his best to avoid the almost 7ft tall giant. They hadn’t spoken since that night, two weeks ago, and Trent wasn’t in a hurry to change that. He picks up his towel, and readies to leave again, but something stops him. He’d started at 4am this morning. How long was he going to let these people back him into a corner? “You know there’s only so many hours left in the day, right?” He demands, striding up to where Adam racks his weights. “Can you really not take a hint?” Adam freezes, and straightens up. When he turns, there’s no hint of the arrogance Trent is used to seeing. He looks tired, but forces a polite smile. “Hey, Trent. Yeah, you’re really committed, it’s an inspiration really, man…” “Oh, cut the crap.” Trent snaps. He didn’t want this to be another big confrontation, but Adam was starting to get under his skin now. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Why can’t you leave me in peace?” Adams face darkens and he opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself and sits down on the bench. “Man, I fucking suck at this kind of stuff.” “What, tormenting people? I’d say you were a fucking savant at that, Adam.” “I’m not tormenting you! I’m… I’m trying to keep an eye on you.” Trents brow creases incredulously. “Did Brie send you?” “No! No, don’t tell Brie, she’d kill me if she knew I was doing this,” Adam says, panicked. “I’m here because you - well, you know, the whole thing-” “What “whole thing Adam”? The whole thing where you treated me like trash? The whole thing where you were going to destroy my life?” Trent's fists shake. This is awful. He’s reliving that night in the apartment all over again, but now he’s started, he can’t stop. “What did you expect, hmm? You’d just stalk me until I, what, turn around and tell you it's okay, there's no need to be so tough on yourself, I forgive you? Fuck Adam, I knew you were dense but this is something else.” “I didn’t ask for forgiveness. I’m not stupid.” Adam says, unable to look Trent in the face. “What I did was fucked up. I was… I was fucking bad, man, and I don’t like it. But I don’t have to keep making the same mistakes right?” “So don’t.” says Trent in exasperation. “Just leave me the fuck alone and I’ll be fine.” “Dude, you’re not fine.” “Excuse me?” “You’re a mess, Trent.” The words cut, but Adam says so with a forthright honesty. “You look even worse than when you came back. Bigger, but worse. How long did you even sleep last night?” “Wh- and whose fault is that exactly? Who’s been tailing me earlier and earlier all week?” “You need someone to keep an eye on you.” “Who the FUCK are you to tell me what I need?!” Trent’s face is red with fury - but Adam’s words ring true. His clothes are soiled with the sweat of his work out, his shoulders rise and fall. The bags under his eyes have sunk to new depths. He looks huge, but not exactly healthy. Adam finally meets his stare, and talks with a deliberate tone. “Brie won’t see you. She thinks we’ve ruined your life enough. She wants what you’re asking for. Sebastian won’t even acknowledge what happened, and Abbie - well I’ve not even seen her since. So let me ask you - if I don’t keep an eye on you, who will? Because you’re sure as hell not taking care of yourself. Who exactly is going to catch you, if you-” His voice cracks. “If I what?” Trent asks, but the realisation dawns on him even as he asks it. “Oh god, you think I was going to-” “You wouldn’t be the first. One way or the other, you keep this up and you'll end up hurting yourself.” Adam returns to inspecting his shoes. The buzzing lights once more flood their ears. After a moment’s pause, Trent sits on the bench next to him. It’s a tight fit, the two huge men taking it up entirely. “Is that why you asked Brie to stay with me?” He asks - he’d all but forgotten the exchange as they were leaving the apartment, but it comes back to him now. Adam just shrugs, a movement that sends the huge slabs of muscle across his shoulders rolling like a landslide; a huge spectacle for such a gentle gesture. “You shouldn’t be alone. And it sucks that there’s nobody better, but right now there’s just me.” The lights buzz. Letting out a sigh, Trent stands. It isn’t ideal but, truly, things aren’t any worse than they have been. If anything, the sigh is one of relief: until that gnawing returns. He needs to lift. “You, uh. You feel like spotting me?” --------------------------------------------- The next few weeks of campus life go at a more comfortable pace. Trent still feels that urge to lift, but it ebbs more easily than it did. The morning sessions are more fruitful with Adam’s help: he’s kept in check when he needs to be, but the presence of a spotter able to keep up with him means he can achieve even more than before. And with greater weight set on the bar, the itch is abated for longer and longer periods. The two don’t talk much, but Trent can’t help but notice elements of Adam’s own technique that could improve, and he occasionally gives him pointers. The effect on Adam’s progress is explosive. “Fuck dude, you’re seriously good at this!” He says, rolling his shoulders after another personal record. “You should become a PT, you’d make bank!” He never seriously considers it. For now, he’s content with finding a sustainable rhythm through life; each day starts with the still slightly awkward lifting session, and progresses with classes and studies before he retreats home for bed. And yet, even as he finds solace in the mundane familiarity of it all, he can’t help but notice changes. His aversion to measuring himself had not dissipated - the one time Adam had suggested it ended their session early, as Trent simply left, and the mistake was never repeated. But the progress of his growth was difficult to ignore. He knew, for example, that Adam had recently hit that golden marker of 7ft tall, but to Trent he appeared to be shrinking. Before, his eyes were level with Adam’s massive valley of a chest, but now they were closer to his chin. Doors had become a problem; not just because of the height, but his increased bulk meant that, in most instances, Trent needed to twist around instead of simply ducking to get under them. As he walks through campus to his next class - early, to try and bag the seat near the fire escape that would afford him extra legroom - he can feel the eyes upon him, from down below. The campus was packed, but it felt like he was wading through it, almost. And everywhere; whispers. He couldn’t help but think; how would he have reacted to this, if things had been different? Would he have thrived on this attention? Or would he have always hated it - Slam. He’s lost in thought, but even if he’d been paying attention, it wouldn’t have prepared for what struck him. It was like being hit by a truck - almost literally, as a titan of muscle and brawn careens off the quad and into his side. Trent is sent sprawling onto the pavement below - an impressive sight in its own right, like a huge tree being felled - and scrapes his arm painfully across the hard floor. Looking up, he sees a dark silhouette of an unparalleled man, haloed by the light of the sky above him. For the first time since that night he sees Sebastian. “Aw, hey little guy, didn’t see you there. Yo, Justin, go long!” He clutches in his hand a football, ludicrously small in the titanic mitt that palms it, and apparently what he was catching when he knocked Trent to the floor. He winds back, showing off the thick cords of muscle along the interminable length of his arm, and releases it. The man he throws to would have once looked gigantic to Trent - he’s maybe a little larger than Adam the first time they’d met - and yet he looks on helplessly as the ball soars far, far past him and further away down the quad. There’s an audible sound of frustration from him as he runs off after it. Seb smirks, turns his attention back to Trent, and reaches out his hand to him. “Here, let me help you up.” He looks up and smiles at a couple of students walking past them. “No thanks,” Trent ignores the proffered hand and finds his own feet, which he immediately uses to try and walk away. “Woah, what’s the rush buddy? It’s been a while. You’re looking big.” Seb says, stepping in Trent’s way. “I mean, not as big as me. But I’m the biggest. No shame in being small next to me, right?” “I have to get to class.” “Sure, sure, gotta keep those grades up right? But I’m glad I caught you, I’d been meaning to ask - you haven’t heard any nasty rumours about me, have you?” Seb asks, folding his arms. “What are you talking about?” “Oh good! I guess there’s nothing to worry about then,” He smiles, but lowers his voice low so nobody will overhear. “It’s just when you’re as big as I am, you have to deal with a lot of jealousy. You hear all kinds of nasty, spiteful lies about me being dishonest, or messing with people’s meds.” There’s a moment of silence as Trent looks up at him, his mouth agape. “Are you for real?” “Oh, I’m absolutely for real. The very well-paid lawyers my parents had me speak to are real. And any amount of slander that might damage my reputation, or my career, will be met with a lawsuit that is very real.” Trent is rooted to the spot. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. He’s once again tiny. He’s once again powerless. When Seb brings him in for a hug, and he doesn’t resist, his arms like lead at his side. Seb’s mouth dips low by his ear and whispers: “But let’s face it - who the fuck have you got to tell, anyway?” He breaks away, and calls out to Justin before jogging out over the quad. Trent doesn’t go to class. His first stop is the bathroom, where he checks himself in the mirror. He cleans his arm from where he fell - there’s not much blood, but there’s grit caught in the graze which is slow and painful to remove. He constantly finds himself looking in the mirror; why is he still so small? With a sigh, he turns off the faucet, and picks up his bag. He still doesn’t go to class. Instead he leaves the building, and heads a short way across campus to another, down a corridor, and knocks at the door he comes to. “Come in” Trent enters the room - it’s light and breezy for its small size, with a squashed and well-used sofa. There’s an overwhelming smell of coffee, coming from the oversized cup on the desk in the corner, where a woman in her late 30s sits. She wears a thick cardigan and loose beads, and although she doesn’t comment on the huge young man who just entered her office, Trent clocks her looking him up and down for just a moment. “Um, hi,” He says, his voice barely breaking the quiet of the room. “Our appointment wasn’t until later, but, uh… is there any chance we could…” She looks at him again, the pained expression and the graze along the arm he’s holding. “Of course, I can make time. Why don’t you take a seat…” ----------------------------------- “That’s so awesome dude. Therapy’s such an important step, it’s fucking dope!” Adam says, clapping Trent on the back. His enthusiasm is maybe a little oversold, but to be fair it’s two-pronged. Adam’s pleased to see Trent take that step, but he’s also overjoyed that he’d decided to share the information. He barely spoke during their early morning meet-ups, if it wasn’t specifically about the work they were doing, and to share something so personal with him; it really touched him. “It’s not therapy, it’s counselling. They’re…” Trent pauses; although he’d definitely seen a better side to Adam over the last couple of months, he knew that the big guy didn’t handle nuance very well. “Different. I might see a therapist too, it’s something we’ve discussed. But yeah, it’s been a couple of weeks. It’s um.. It’s been okay.” Trent didn’t especially want to rake over the sessions here and now. They were sometimes painful, but mostly soothing. He was surprised by what they walked about; they did cover what had happened at the end of last year and what he’d been through, but a large amount of their chats covered the here and now, or else things that seemed totally unrelated. But today… Today he had homework. “Adam, do you… would you say we were friends?” “Uh… I mean, I guess I don’t know, now you ask,” He stops tidying weights as his brow furrows. “I think you’re kinda the only one who can answer that, y’know? I gave up that privilege.” “Okay, then - these morning sessions, how do you feel about them? Are they just you running penance still, or do you like them?” Trent asks. “Aw, no, I like them a lot. You’re a cool guy, if a little in your own world sometimes. Wait, does that mean you like them too?” “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” It’d been the topic of yesterday’s conversation, and the answer had surprised him then, but feels more natural now. “But I think, if we’re friends - I mean, just doing this is a bit transactional, don’t you think? Did you want to, maybe, hang out sometime?” “Hell yeah, bro, I’d love to! Except…” His face falls. “Well, obviously, I’m still with Brie. And when I’m not with her, I still see Seb quite a bit. Not as much, but he’s - I mean, have you seen him since?” “Once,” Trent admits. “It didn’t go well. Seems he’s eager to pretend nothing happened. And Brie… I mean, I’ll need to speak to her sooner or later. Maybe not right away though.” “She’ll wait. I guess I should tell her about these little meetings, huh? She’ll get it though. Seb’s the bigger problem. You’re right in that he won’t talk about it, but he’s gotten… what’s the word..?” “Litigious?” “What, no? Wait, did he threaten to sue you? Fucking asshole..” Adam shakes his head, “Not that I’m surprised. It’s kinda hard to explain how he gets, but it’s like he sets the rules, and only you and he know they’re set, right? The first time I saw him after… that night… I ask how he's been doing since then, if he’d spoken to you or anyone. Fucker acts like it never happened, tells me I’m stupid and leaves. The next day at lunch, half the guys I hang out with every day won’t talk to me. Apparently I’ve been trying to talk shit about him behind his back.” Trent is startled at the feeling of recognition at Adam’s words. “I know what you mean. He’s clever. It’s like he knows nobody’s going to call his bluff, so his version of things is just accepted.” “Exactly! Sometimes he seems okay, and other times he’s just putting people down for no reason. It’s like… it’s like he wants to see you jump through hoops for him, and if you don’t, you’re out. You’re nothing, and everyone leaves you behind.” “If you don’t do what you’re told, he turns you into me.” Adam, opens his mouth in shock, but Trent continues. “No, it’s okay. You don’t want to be like that, take it from me. I get it.” It’s uncomfortable, but Adam breaks the tension. “Fuck him. I’d rather hang out with you anyway - but maybe we can take baby steps for your sake. Next weekend he’s got an away game, how about I get some of the boys I trust together and we get you out to a club, yeah? Music, drink, and who knows; we might even get you laid!” -------------------------------------------- “You sure you’re good?” “Yeah, I’ve got it, go have fun.” “Alright, big man, holler if you need anything!” Was his name AJ? TJ? Trent couldn’t quite remember, he’d been given a lot of names tonight. He was the kind of guy who wore his cap backwards at all times, even here at the club, but he seemed okay. They all did, to be fair, it was almost like being in highschool again, surrounded by a bunch of rowdy jocks who just wanted to have a blast with him. Oh, except he was twice the size of any of them, of course. That was pretty new. But it had been a long time since Trent had been in a setting like this and, a foot of extra height notwithstanding, it was getting overwhelming. So he’d volunteered to go get a round of shots at the bar out on the terrace. It was quieter here, the air fresh, and he didn’t mind how packed the bar was. The queue gave him time to think. When he finally reaches the front however, he doesn't get to give his order. A small man ducks in under his right arm, staying under it and standing pressed against him. “Two spiced rum and cokes, please!” He says, sniping Trent’s order. Trent stares open mouthed at him. The guy is tiny, even by normal standards. He has short hair that grows a little longer into a tousled fringe, a slim, lithe frame, and a confidence like none Trent had ever seen. There’s also his aftershave - strong but not obnoxious, with a playful floral note. “Did you honestly not see me standing here?” “Oh shush, one of them is for you.” The man playfully pushes his hand against Trent’s midriff, letting it linger there for longer than strictly necessary. “But I’m buying drinks for my friends too.” “Well, they can get their own drinks. Cheers.” he says, handing a glass to Trent and taking a large sip of his own. Trent accepts the drink, and the bartender finds someone else to serve - Trent had a drink already, after all. He sighs in frustration. “Sorry, were you eager to get back to your friends?” The diminutive man asks. “Erm. Not really.” “Then what’s the issue? The name’s Aiden, by the way.” “Trent,” he responds, taking a sip of the rum. It’s not something he’s had before, but he quite likes it. He enjoys the zing of spices on his tongue. “Cute name! If you’re not in a hurry, why don’t you come join me for a while? I’m sure your boys won’t mind waiting for you.” Trent is a little puzzled but agrees - why the hell not? He can feel the heat and hear the noise from the club every time the door opens, and he’s not in a hurry to get back in there. Instead, Aiden leads him over to the other side of the terrace where they find a wide, wicker sofa. It creaks ominously as Trent takes a seat on it, but seems to hold for now. Once again he raises his glass to the little guy and takes a sip. “You’re fucking huge.” Trent’s sip sprays a little as he chokes at that matter-of-fact statement. “I - I mean, I guess I’m pretty big yeah, I’m not sure I’d say huge…” “I’m 5’3” and you’re going to tell me you’re not huge? Can I touch your arm?” Aiden asks, reaching out before even asking for a response. “Um - I guess so?” Aiden reaches out, his tiny slender digits not even close to wrapping around the girth of Trent’s unflexed bicep. His drink goes onto the table, forgotten about for now. “Jeez, the size of this thing… You know, most guys like you are all about showing off, right? I’m grateful you don’t seem to be an asshole, but you can afford to loosen up a little.” “Well, I guess… I wasn’t always this big.” Trent says. It’s a little awkward being touched like this in public, but… in this secluded little corner of the terrace, the only attention on him is from his little companion. He doesn’t mind it at all. “What was it, gamma rays? Alien artifact? Magic potion?” Aiden asks, his focus still on the muscle in front of him. “Ha, yeah, something like that,” Trent responds, and a thought occurs to him. “You know, I could probably get hold of more magic potion. If you wanted.” “Do you not think you’ve had enough?” “No, not for me.” “For me?” Aiden stops and looks at him. “Why would I want to be bigger? I'm cute as hell.” “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry,” Trent corrects himself. “I didn’t think-” “It’s fine,” Aiden waves his hand, “No need to make a big deal of it.” “It’s just, you mentioned my size, I thought you liked it.” Trent continues anyway. “I do like it,” Aiden responds, placing his hand on Trent’s thigh. Or at least, what he thought was Trent’s thigh. He hadn’t expected what he felt there to be so… low. “I really like it,” he says. “Um, Aiden, that’s my…” “Yes, I gathered.” “Aiden, I’m not - I’m not into guys in that way.” Trent says, but his heart is in his mouth even as he says it. He’s not gay. And yet… Aiden’s actions don’t come as a surprise, and he doesn’t really want him to stop. But Aiden does anyway, immediately as Trent expresses discomfort. “Oh! I’m sorry, I misread things completely, are you okay?” “Yeah, no, I’m fine,” Trent says, beginning to blush. “I didn’t mind - I mean, I can deal with it, it’s all good.” Aiden’s eyebrow raises at that first comment, but he doesn’t push it. “It was great to meet you anyway, Trent, I hope you have a great night. Oh! Before I go, could I quickly borrow your phone? My friend has mine.” “Um, sure..” Trent says, unlocking his and handing it over with uncertainty, his stomach still doing somersaults. Aiden takes it and is there for just a couple of seconds before handing it back, thanking him, and leaving. Trent sits for a moment to collect his thoughts - he considers going after him, but eventually decides against it. He stands and heads back to the bar, where he starts to wait again. After five minutes or so, a thought crosses his mind. He pulls his phone out. It opens to his contacts, where there’s a new entry for Aiden, and a note attached: “Just in case you feel like contacting me - any time.”

Chapter 2: The BIG Friend: Tyler looked at his Phone with pure exitement. [Tyler]: „Huh? Rex… Man, i didn’t talk to him in months… almost a whole year…“ He checked the message he got from his old Buddy from High School. [Rex‘ Message]: „Hey Mate, i saw your Insta-Post… you got fired? What the hell? Stacy once told me that you work overtime… like always…“ Tyler chuckled and texted him about why he got fired and how he feels about it. A few minutes later Tylers Phone rang. It was Rex. Tyler hesitated a bit, but he picked up the call anyway. [Tyler]: „Hey Many how can i help you Man? Didn’t expect you to call that late…“ Tyler chuckled until Rex answered in a deep, masculine voice. [Rex]: „Hey Man, it sucks to lose your job huh?“ Tyler was almost to stunned to speak as he heard Rex‘ Voice. [Tyler]: „Man, Rex is it really you? You sounds so different… so deep and manly…“ Rex laugh was heard through the phone. [Rex]: „Yeah its me, dont worry. I can explain it to you later… wanna meet tomorrow? Ron told me that you still live in the House that you lived in during High School.“ Tyler blushed and answered immediatly. [Tyler]: „Yeah, why not… i haven't seen you in months, its almost a year man…“ They hung up and decided to meet the next day. Tyler spend the rest of the night very exited until he fell asleep with a happy smile on his face, happy to see another friend again. On the next day he woke up and put on his clothes and waited for Rex to arrive. Suddenly a loud noise was hearable from outside. Tyler looked out of his window until he saw a motorcycle that parked in front of his house followed by a ringing doorbell. [Tyler]: Huh? No… Rex wouldn’t come with a Motorcycle, he is as nerdy as me…“ Tyler opened the door and his jaw dropped. A tall, buff and handsome man stood before him. [Tyler]: „Can i help you?“ Tyler was suprised by the Man until he answered him. [???]: „Man, its me! Rex! Can i come in?“ Tylers Eyes became wide and his jaw dropped again. [Tyler]: „Yeah… of c-course!“ His voice was shaky, just like his body. They sat down in Tylers living room. [Rex]: „Hey, are you okay? You look like you are about to pass out Dude…“ Tyler shook his head. [Tyler]: „Oh, im fine man… i simply can’t belive what im seeing in front of me Dude… you are freaking huge! Your arms as as big as my torso, your face is so handsome, you look like a greek god!“ Tyler blushed, so did Rex. [Rex]: „Hell yeah, I am!“ Rex flexed his biceps that looked like it would tear apart his shirt like a piece of paper. [Rex]: „Like what you’re seeing?“ Tyler nodded silently, trying not to stare too much. [Tyler]: „Yeah man, i mean, can you blame me? You are… very hot!“ Rex smiled at Tyler and looked at him with joy. [Rex]: „Oh, don’t worry, im fine with you looking at me Man… you wouldn’t belive me anyway… like how I became so huge and handsome…“ Tyler chuckled and looked at his old friend who was still flexing. Rex started to laugh, his pecs were moving up and down underneath his shirt. [Tyler]: „Wait, do you want me to belive that you didn’t got so big by just working out?“ Tyler blushed and had to concentrate not to touch Rex‘ muscular body. Rex stood up and looked Tyler deep into his eyes. [Rex]: „Would you belive me when i say that it wasn’t working out? That it was like a miracle for me and that i can do whatever i want and still retain this pysique?“ Rex sounded very confident, like every word he said was 100% true and honest and that he trusts Tyler completly. [Tyler]: „Well, i don’t belive in miracles but… i hear how much you mean it now, so yeah, tell me. I’ll listen Man…“ Tyler blushes as Rex stared into his eyes, so much that he felt his heart beating very fast. Rex showed him a picture of a lake on his phone and smiled. [Rex]: „Here, that was the place where IT happened… I fell into the lake and then BOOM, my muscles grew to this size and my face became more handsome… and you don’t wanna know what became bigger too…“ Rex let out a manly laugh, and pointed to his crotch. Tyler almost passed out but he only nodded at Rex. He touched the bulging biceps oft he giant before him. Rex‘ flexed for his old friend and saw that he was enjoying it. [Rex]: „You don’t laugh at me? Funny… everytime i tell someone i just get laughed at or get called freak…“ Rex chuckled and flexed some more and took off his shirt. He was now standing there, shirtless… [Rex]: „Two things… first, i will flex for you, you always were into buff Men, like me… and i am too... Second: I have an idea for you Man… a BIG Idea...

Chapter 7 As all the sentinels were neutralized (I love that expression. It's cruelly bureaucratic, stripping the victims of any "human" dignity), I could enter the base. In My brain I downloaded the map of the area before the mission began, so locating it was pretty easy. It was a group of barracks situated near the stream next where the last guard got squeezed into the stream-bed pinned by the power of My mighty leg. He wiggled nicely trying to lift My leg, but he was as successful in doing so, as if he would be lifting a column of an ancient Greek temple from his back. His wigglings gave Me pleasure. A short lived one. I saw the barracks clearly. With My nocturnal vision I scanned them to see if anyone was outside. Not the case. I saw that only one of the barracks had lights on. The biggest one. The other three were either asleep or deserted. I decided to preventively check one of the dark ones. I pressed on the door and it quickly opened. I didn't even bother to notice whether it was locked. The place was indeed empty. The other two were empty too. So - all the fun was in the biggest one. I grinned. My cock twitched in anticipation. I opened the door gently so as not to scare the prey. I passed through the first room which was empty. Next door. Yes, here was where all the action took place. In the middle of the room was a guy. My type of a guy. Big and muscular. He was nude and was sitting on a desk. Under his legs, there were two soldiers, also naked, serving his cock. The wimps were facing the alpha, so they didn't see Me. The alpha was in a state of pleasure and had his eyes closed, so he didn't see Me either. I recognised the alpha. His name was Grigoriy. He was one of the boxing champions of Russia. Just like any good boxer, his arms were good and meaty and his legs were rather skinny and boring. I scanned the room further. In the corner of the room I found a middle aged man. He was probably the commander. He was the only one who noticed Me. But he couldn't do anything, as his hands were tied by a rope hanging from the ceiling. He was also naked and ball gagged, so he couldn't speak. In his eyes I saw fear. Nice feeling. I like it when they are afraid of Me as I enter the room. His body was boringly average. His dick? I didn't even see it. Maybe he was dickless… In the meantime Grigoriy opened his eyes and scanned My physique. He was either drunk or drugged as his reactions were slow and unnatural. He looked at Me as a sexual object and did not see danger in Me (on the contrary to his commander who was pale and tried to say something unaudably). He looked at Me from head to toe. His cock got immediately harder. I pointed at him and then towards My cock showing him clearly where his new place should be - worshiping Me. This seemed to have surprised him, as he was expecting Me to service him. What a foolish thing! He really thought that he was Alpha. Maybe he was, until I entered this room. Now he was an ex Alpha. He just did not know it. I showed him his place again. This time more clearly inviting him to move his ass, drop to his knees and start sucking. He got the message, but understood it in an opaque way. He sent one of his lackeys to serve Me. The guy turned around and saw Me. A mountain of aggressive muscle. I was pointing towards My hard cock. The guy got pale. Under My steel gaze the beta crawled towards Me. He was guided by Grigoryi's eyes from behind. As two Alphas were controlling him, he had no option but to obey. He reached Me, opened My zipper with his mouth and immediately started sucking My head. His mouth was already full although he did not take even a part of My glans. But I did not care. His pleasuring Me was irrelevant. I had a bigger fish to fry and he was just a tool to get the bigger catch. I kept ignoring the sucking and kept deeply staring at Grigoriy. Hypnotizing him with My eyes. He was drunk and caught the hook. He was unable to look anywhere else than on Me. He ignored the other soldier sucking him. There were two alpha men assessing their supremacy. Like two alpha bulls before a fight. And the fight could determine only one winner. I slowly undressed. My huge frame covered with layers of dense meat started to be more and more visible. He tensed his muscles in response. Especially his arms, as they were his prime muscle group. The air became filled with pheromones. Both his and Mine. The pheromones were also fighting for supremacy. The two betas feeling all those pheromones became really horny with all the sexual tension in the room. They were sucking like crazy. But they were irrelevant both to Grigoryi and Me. They were mere playthings. I decided it is time to show My superiority. I started to contract My quads. They became denser, bigger, harder, more veiny and more deadly. The space between My legs shrunk. That's exactly where the head of the fucker was. My quads enveloped his head and the only thing he started to hear was the blood going through My veins located outside of his ears. He started to feel pain. He wiggled his arms and started hitting My legs as if it had any impact or would alter My decision. The squeezing continued. His head was in a deadly vice and the pressure continued to grow. The movement of his arms and legs became more frenzy, uncoordinated and desperate. Useless. I kept looking at Grigoriy only in order to have full control of him and his brain. He was watching the show mesmerized by what was unfolding in front of him. It amazed him and made him even more horny. I did not smell his fear. Yet. I felt the skull firmly opposing the crunch. It has been thoroughly compressed and had no possibility to shrink even further. The pain was high. The wimp would be screaming if his mouth would not have been impaled on My cock. At this stage I did not care if he was still sucking Me or not. He could not move his head anyway and the only way he could still give Me pleasure was by using vacuum in his mouth. I heard the first squeaking of his skull. In the meantime Grigoriy was face fucking his beta like crazy. Using him like a human oral vagina. He passed the point of no return and would cum soon. I continued. Veins on My quads grew even further as the pressure surmounted. And then it gave in. The skull cracked nicely and blood started pouring out. The crack grew and soon the grey brain matter started pouring out too. I continued applying pressure. Grigoriy couldn't last any longer and started to cum. He seemed to orgasm very well but at the same time I saw the first hints of fear in his eyes. My show of supremacy did bear fruit, so I decided to terminate it. I opened My legs and a lifeless body dropped to the floor. Grigoryi's victim was choking on the amount of cum he was receiving. He didn't care. Let's start part two of the show…

Tony was an Italian American police officer, a muscle-bear at 6ft7, 360lbs, 25 inch biceps, 62 inch chest, goatee beard, 40 waist, size 17 feet, huge 9.5 inch cock. He looked in the mirror and admired his body, the thickness of his muscles, the brutality of his looks, not the beauty of a bodybuilder. He stared at his feet, admiring the size and the way they filled his shoes. He imagined what it would be like to have a woman's hands on them, to feel her touch and admire her reaction. He thought of the feeling of his own hands on his feet, the way they felt so smooth and so powerful. He imagined the feeling of his own cum on his feet, the way it would feel so sticky and so hot. He imagined the feeling of his own feet on his cock, the way it would feel so rough and so powerful. He imagined the feeling of his own cock on his feet, the way it would feel so smooth and so hot. He imagined the feeling of his own feet on his cock, the way it would feel so rough and so powerful. He fantasied about finding smaller muscle-bears to dominate, fuck really hard and make them take his loads up their asses and in their mouths. He imagined himself ordering them around, making them show off their bodies and flex their muscles for him. He could hear their sighs of pleasure as he fucked them hard and fast, their moans of delight as he made them take his massive loads in their mouths and up their asses. He could feel the power he had over them, the control he had over their bodies and their minds. He could feel the energy he had when he was in the middle of his fantasies, when he was in control of these smaller muscle-bears. Tony was thinking about fucking them both hard and fast, his cock was so big and his balls were so huge, he was pounding their asses with his huge cock, they were moaning in pain and pleasure, both of them were so tight, they could feel every inch of his cock, they were both in ecstasy, they could feel the pleasure and the pain, they were both loving it. Tony continued to jerk off, he could do it for hours without cumming, he loved to edge,licked his fingers clean and continued to jerk off, he was in heaven. He was so turned on by his own touch, he was so horny he couldn't help but to keep jerking off. He was so close to cumming but he kept going, he was so close to the edge but he just kept going. when he did finally shoot his load it covered his t shirt, and had cum allover his fingers which he loved to eat. he loved to the taste of his cum, licked his fingers clean and continued to jerk off, thinking about a hot new musclebear cub he is going to meet tomorrow.

Chapter 9 I got promoted. After the brilliant action where I eliminated all the enemies and captured the enemy captain, I got a medal of honor. But unfortunately I could not keep My pet Grigoryi. At least I managed to fuck him a few times and discovered that he is a lousy bottom, so the loss was not significant. The Russian captain however proved to be extremely valuable to us. He was a relative of someone important and rich in Moscow and we got a very good ransom for him. As he testified to his relatives that I treated him very well (I didn't even touch the bitch, did I?) I received a new bank account in Dubai with a good five digit savings on it. The captain had to be really important and influential. But he did have just one demand - Grigoryi will come with him. So - I had to let him go. A good bank account is worth more than a lousy ass. The commander told Me that all the BDSM plans I had for Grigoryi will be executed by him once they land in Russia. He will castrate him for what Grigoryi did to him and make him eat his own dick. And that will be just the beginning of his new adventures. I was impressed with the Russian commander. Didn't expect to find a similar mind on the other side of the front. I had a feeling that he admired Me and would love to have Me on his side. Even more - he would love to be Me. But that he will never be. And I think he really liked our little BDSM session we had when I got Intel from him. He interviewed prisoners in a similar way. This time he was on the receiving end and learned a few new tricks. He probably will be even better at future interviews. Until he meets Me again and I'll make him My bitch this time. When Grigoryi learned about his fate, he begged Me to kill him. I decided to use this opportunity to the max. I made him worship Me like a God, tell Me how superior I am compared to him. He licked My dick and balls, but that was not enough to Me. I decided to humiliate him further. He licked My feet as I face-fucked him with My toes. I stumped on him, probably breaking one of his ribs. I made him beg for more humiliation. I made him realise that there is no barrier that I would not break and that any restrain from him from the degree of humiliation will just make Me want to humiliate and dominate him further. Once there was no dignity in him left, once there was no alphaness in him left, once there was no man in front of Me but just a big muscular worshiping genderless slave with not a single drop of pride left in him, then I decided My job is complete. I told him that his worship and submission was good, but not good enough and that I prefer to get the money and give him to the Russian commander who will destroy him. You should see his eyes - the eyes of a terrified animal about to be butchered and being fully aware of it. Completely different from the alpha I met a few days earlier who dared to think he was superior to Me. Well…he learned his lesson the hard way. Probably even harder than the usual guys I teach by snuffing. His human life was over. His animal life won't last long either. And when I thought everything was fine and under control, we got the message that the American scientists demand that I be flown to their base in Nevada to compare Me with George. George was the first enhanced soldier, their pride. They were to test Me and him. And I had a strange feeling that this might not be a walk in the park, that My capabilities will be tested to the max and it wouldn't be sure that I would win this time…

-removed-

Here's another installment on this series of stories! Hope yall enjoy, and I do take suggestions for the next chapters! --------- "M...mmf" Light falls upon Brad's face as he wakes up, a yawn leaving his face as he sits on his bed, the mattress groaning under his weight. "Mmf...Hey there~" He looked down at his body, smirking at the familiar sight of his massive pecs, his right arm slowly moving to his crotch, slowly stroking his morning wood. He proceeded to lift his left arm as his bicep came to life, veins covering it as he flexed, before proceeding to bury his face on his armpit and take a whiff of his manly musk. "Mmmf...~" This was a morning routine to him, to fully appreciate and worship his body, not an inch ever going unappreciated. He moved his left arm to rub his pecs, playing with his fat nipples as he continued to stroke his cock, a few drops of pre falling to the sheets. "F-fuck..." He started stroking faster, his 10 inches cock throbbing madly as he stroked his cock and groped his body, his lemon sized balls filling up. He had massive, veiny pecs that many times were sucked. His solid 8-pack that could cut class, his rock solid legs that could create holes on the pavement, his firm glutes that could milk the biggest cocks...he was a fucking god, and he loved it. "FFFFUCKKK~" He finally reaches the climax, shooting load after load into the air and covering his body, the sheets, and the ceiling on his seed. After 10 shots, he finally slows down, panting heavily. "Woof...10 shots! Nick won't believe it." Grabbing his hand and licking off some of the cum, he finally gets off the bed, throwing off the sheets into a corner as he walks to the shower. But not before standing at the mirror, seeing his 6'3, cum covered body on it's full glory, his cock with a semi and still leaking some cum. He does a double bicep pose and smirks, walking off to the bathroom to wash himself and clean off the cum off his body. Going out of the shower with a towel around his waist, he chooses his clothes for the day. A nice jockstrap that accentuated his firm ass, some shorts, and a tank top. He didn't needed anything else for the day, nor any other day. "Hehe...Mmph!" He stood once again in front of the mirror, his sight making a noticeable bulge appear on his pants. He cockily gropes it, though, a moan leaving his mouth. He was hot as hell and maniy as fuck. That fact would always turn him on. He eventually leaves the house grabbing his bag, ready to go to the gym. Hia favorite gym was a few corners away from his house, but even so there were many of them on the city. As he walked, he saw many other men walking around. A lot of them in skimpy clothing, some of them kissing or groping their partner. All of them massively muscular and well endowed. This was a city created many decades ago. A city where only men like these live and thrive. One day, years ago, a strange virus broke out among gay men. ONLY gay men. Whoever was affected by it would go through a wild, yet incredibly pleasurable transformation. First their libido would increase, their need for sexual release growing higher than usual, along with their sexual organs growing bigger. Their metabolism would follow, not needing to ingest as much food or liquids to gain energy through the day. Their aging slowed down, making them able to live for much longer than those unaffected. And finally, they would develop muscle mass at a much bigger rate, a few workouts enough to make them gain multiple pounds, and in some subjects, the growth may even occur from flexing or sexual arousal alone. It was a blessing. A miracle. And scientists had no idea why it happened. All men were healthy, MORE than healthy, their bodies showing no abnornalities in any scans. At first it was one or two men in a country. Then 500. Then 1,000. Then 50,000. Soon enough It had become an epidemic, affecting almost every adult gay man in the world and turning them into a God of their own. The world goverments didn't really want to deal with all of this, as such, on a faraway island, a new city was built just for these kind of men. Muscletropolis. And for decades, this place has welcomed these enhanced, godly men, a city built for these men, ruled by these men, where they indulged in all of their deepest needs and pleasures their bodies would give them. Brad finally walks into the gym, the raw smell of sweat and musk hitting him like a welcoming embrace, his cock once again hardening. All around him where men working out in minimal articles of clothing. Some in shorts, others jockstraps, and many in nothing at all. All massive beyond belief, with a need to get even bigger imprinted unto them as they grunted and moaned. "Hey, Brad!" From the other side of the gym, Brad spots his friend Nick, one of the first guys he met when he moved to the city after his infection. He was 6'5, and a bit wider than Brad. "Bro!" The two of them meet and proceed to hold their sweaty bodies close in a bro hug, none of the men of the city afraid of getting physically close. Their bulges rubbed together, Brad feeling Nick's 11 incher, hard as steel, but none of them separating. "Mmf...Nice to see you too, stud~" Nick gropes Brad's chiseled ass, rubbing his bulge against Brad's own before the two of them kiss one another passionately. Everyone in the city was close to one another to this degree. If you has the virus, your inhibitions and reserves would quickly melt away, your libido too high and your need for muscle too strong for any reservations to remain for long. In this city, It was okay to be debacherous, hedonistic, and down to fuck with every muscle stud you laid your eyes own. Many would fuck on the alleys, grope each other without shame, or just walk around naked or with barely any clothes. There was no secrets or shame between these men. "Mmff...bro...I shot 10 loads this morning...isn't that hot as fuck..." "Fuuuck...mmf...and not on my ass, dude?" "Turn around then, big guy. I'll do it right here until you faint on my thick cock." Their cocks were still rubbing against one another, their jockstraps barely able to hold them together. Even so, they break apart with a wink. Nick going back to working with some dumbbells while Brad was ready to work with a barbell several tons heavy. "There we...go...MMPH!" He liftes them with barely any issue, a noticeable bulge still on his crotch as he worked, his arms becoming pumped. "Fuck yes...mff..." Working out his body with the idea of growing even bigger always brought him so much pleasure. Every day since his arrival he's gone to the gym, pushing himself bigger and bigger, stronger and stronger, everything for his own self satisfaction. He needed to be big. He craved it more than anything. And it seems like his body responded to that craving, a pleasurable sensation filling his body as he lifted the barbell. "Hah...MMPH..." His body was growing with every lift, slowly yet surely pound after pound was being added to him, the feeling orgasmic, addicting. The same was for everyone with the virus, every one of these hundred thousand men in the city, and especially those grunting and moaning in the gym. Every rep, every lift, even every flex...it made them all grow. Bigger, taller, stronger, hornier. He took off his shorts, then his jockstrap, having a bit of difficulty with the latter, and then his shirt. Fully naked, he went back to the barbell, ready to keep the pump going, thrusting his hips with every lift. It seems the virus was always active, always mutating within their bodies, making sure their need for size and cock was always there, always growing. It was the reason the world goverments threw them all on an island far away, to stop them from disrupting "normal life" by having almost immortal, incredibly strong, growing muscle freaks running around. "Hufff...mmmff...mmore..." But as Brad kept lifting the barbell, it slowly becoming lighter by the second, his cock joining the growth as it throbbed with thickness, the feeling of lifting so pleasurable he could orgasm right there...this was his normal. Being bigger than any bodybuilder that came before, waking up every morning with a morning wood he couldn't resist jacking off, staring at the mirror and see himself grow wider and taller every day, working out till the sun goes down, fucking and getting fucked until the sun rises, flexing and posing for the world to see, shamelessly walking with a boner for everyone to feel. This was his normal. This was his heaven. "FFUUUUCK~" And as such, he cums, volley after volley falling over him, on the floor, on the ceiling. All around him there were many also climaxing, their own workout so pleasurable they couldn't help themselves, an even louder cacaphony of moans and grunts filling the gym. "Mmmfff...huff..." Eventually, the flow slows down, Brad throwing the now kinda light barbell to the size, standing in a mirror next to him. It was subtle at a glance...but he had definitely grown. Wider, bigger, much more defined. "Hehe..." He groped his still hard cock...He had shot 11 shots, and he still was just as hard as before. Was this a effect of the virus? Was it mutating? Becoming even stronger? Or was he just THAT manly, that powerful? "Fuck yeah...so BIG!" He flexed for himself, his cock throbbing as he felt lust over his reflection, worshipping his arms, his pecs, his abs, his legs, and his oh so beautiful cock and balls. "Look at this, at this fucking stud..." He kept posing for himself, moans leaving his mouth now and then. To say his muscles were basically a sexual organ would not be a lie. "Fuckkk...dude, I need your cock inside me, It's been so long..." Nick came from the side, he also looking slighter bigger. He rubbed Brad's cock with his ass, rubbing it right on the crack. "Heh...fine bro. Let's hit the showers. Been a while since we clogged the drains..." With a smirk and another deep kiss, the two friends walk to the showers, a few of the men following close behind wanting in on the fun. Those were how the days went down on Muscletropolis. A safe heaven of muscle and pleasure for those that were blessed with it's gift. ... "Fuck man, that was so hot!" "Of course It was. I know how this works." Two men watched from far, far away, seeing the events unfold. "A virus that increases their size, their libido, and even slows down aging...put them in a city of just infected, and It's the hottest thing ever, mmfff!~" The louder man stroke his thick cock as he spoke, having cum multiple times as he observed the world's events unfold, and ready to cum again at any second. His companion also had cum multiple times during that, his cock still leaking. "Yup. You need depth and nuance on these kind of things, you know...which is why I hope your next idea is not as swallow as before." "Hehe, of course bro. I'm gonna make something that'll make us cum for hours on end~" At his partner's suggestion, the man's cock twitches. What depraved, decadent pleasures had his partner planned for the next timeline? He couldn't wait to see. And as such, the two proceed on their adventure. Turning all kinds of timelines into pleasurable heavens for their amusement, and to enjoy their limitless power to the fullest.

Short scene of Louis and Legosi from Beastars. Slight hyper muscle. Might add more parts. Legosi entered the oddly dark hallway, wondering how he had gotten lost in the familiar school. He looked around for anything that could help guide him out, but there was nothing. He soon arrived at a dead end, with only a single door on his right. He was about to turn around and head back when a grumpy voice called him from behind. "How'd you get lost, Legosi? With a nose as sensitive as yours, it must have been quite difficult," Louis' brash voice echoed down the empty hall. "Louis, were...you following me?" Legosi took a few steps towards the older, but shorter deer. Legosi was very tall, towering over most of the other students at Cherryton. "To be honest, I figured, once I noticed you head this way, that you'd get lost. I thought I should try to make sure you don't get yourself into something too bad." Legosi shuddered, eyeing the walls around them. "Is there... something here?" As he was distracted, Louis approached, swiftly standing before the tall wolf, and putting on a smirk. "Just me. Don't get too worked up, Legosi. You're a carnivore; what do you have to be worried about hurting you?" "W-Well, I don't think it's right to assume I'd be able to beat anyone in a fight. There's plenty that could happen." "Like, what? A herbivore being stronger than you? Ha!" Louis laughed, sending a chill down Legosi's back. He thought about the situation, and noticed something off. "Louis, if you think I can handle myself in a fight, why did you follow me here? You said you wanted to make sure nothing happened to me, right?" Louis smirked, coming even closer. Legosi flinched, his instincts kicking in and causing him to recoil away as the deer lunged forward, grabbing his arm. Legosi grunted as Louis pulled, bringing him to an sudden stop. "W-What? How did you pull me so hard...?" Legosi stammered as Louis dragged him, keeping a harsh grip on his forearm. He opened the door that was nearby, shoving Legosi in before joining him. Legosi stumbled back, watching as Louis' silhouette closed the door and stood before it. Legosi's eyes were good at seeing in the dark, but even so, most details were sacrificed. As Louis raised an arm to turn on the room's lights, a small snapping sound rang out. Legosi stared, scrutinizing, as the deer was finally splashed with light. He looked almost nothing out of the ordinary, save for the short part of his forearm that was revealed as his sleeve slid down when he reached for the light switch; the switch had been flicked clean off the panel, broken, and lodged into the ceiling. Louis kept his arm raised, displaying his forearm. It was just a thin layer of fur over thick, bulging cords of linear muscle and sprawling veins. Legosi stepped back, eyeing the rest of the deer's body. Under his uniform, Louis' body might not have been very notable at first glance, but further examination would conclude that his clothes were strained in certain areas. Namely, his arms, shoulders, chest, legs, and calves. Countless rows of faint lines were embossed throughout those areas, sometimes shifting with the slightest breath of the deer. "What's wrong, Legosi? Did you see something?" Louis almost laughed while his chest heaved. "Louis, you...you look, different." "I do, don't I? That's because I made sure to keep my body hidden," Louis pulled back the sleeve of the arm he had just raised. Legosi gasped as the deer revealed a lithe, powerful arm with pure muscle in stacks, topped with wide veins snaking throughout. It was absurdly sinewy and devoid of fat. Each fractional movement from Louis caused an exponential wave of muscle to pile onto the length, before going back to rest. "It was quite hard to hide this, from everyone," and with a low grumble, Louis began to curl his arm towards himself, keeping his hand clawed and fingers pointed away from his body. All Legosi could do was watch as the deer's arm began to fill with loads and stacks of striated muscle. As his forearm continued to slowly tilt, the bicep began to split, forming almost jagged peaks that twitched and vibrated from the force that he was exerting. His tricep was similar, expanding downward and horizontally. Louis exhaled, his chest rippling under his shirt, then sucked in a big breath. His arm was nearing an "L" position. The now massive bicep was straining and pulsing, rising higher, near level with his wrist. His wide forearms mashed against the side. His entire body seemed to throb with power. With a haughty chuckle, he turned his hand around, causing the mountainous bicep to swell even larger, allowing him to claw at the peak with that same hand. He scratched, feeling the thrum of each thick, defined striation of muscle through the paper-thin layer of fur and skin. He was able to wrap his fingers around the top, squeezing tightly. Legosi didn't realize how enthralled he was by the display before him. His mind was blank, using only his eyesight to process what he was witnessing. "You're paying attention? Good," Louis grunted as he slowly raised his arm. The titanic mass wavered as he turned his neck towards it. His shoulders and neck bunched into a mountain range. The sheer definition of his neck was now visible, stuffed with so much pure muscle in such a narrow space that turning his head caused it to rumble and vibrate, dispersing shockwaves of rocky muscle. He slowly let out his long tongue, taking a long and slow drag over the boulders of his bicep. Even his tongue was thick and strong. It flicked over his arm, dousing it and dripping hot saliva onto the floor. After several moments, he retracted his tongue, holding his arm up again at his side. Legosi made a small whimper noise, realizing his pants were soaked with cum. He desperately attempted to cover himself, but was unable to look away from the shorter deer across the room. He found himself taking almost entranced steps towards Louis. "Stop, Legosi," Louis commanded. Legosi did just that, save for his furiously wagging tail. "I...I need to feel it, Louis, please!" Legosi begged, his voice whining pathetically. Louis scoffed, looking up at the wolf. "You haven't earned it yet, dog. For now, you're to be quiet," to which Legosi silently nodded. "Watch. Did you think that was all I had to offer?" He laughed. "I haven't even begun to flex."

Hey all, trying something a little different, hope you like it!!! You can reply as if you were a character following the blog or as yourself or both lol Right.... er.....before i start in detail i must just warn that im risking ALOT doing this. I have an hour, so i will get through as much as i can until next time, hopefully their will be one! (BIG GULP) So my name is mike, im 20 and from London,UK. For the past 7 days ive been playing... no not the right word....forced.. thats better... to be my brutally fit and strong, but admittingly hot(yes, muscles make me "happy") bro's slave, worshipper and human barbell. Yes you read that correctly!! More on my bro and how it came about that he started dominating my life shortly, but its only fair that i give a little info about me just for balance. So this is me...... I know what your all thinking!! Yes, i look young for my age, family trait!! As you can see im a little athletic physically, im more a runner type guy, the brute size and strength is all my bros, again you'll find out more very soon. You would think with me using words like brutal and slave so far that my tone would be a little more worrying, frightened even, and in a way i am, as i said at the start, im risking a lot doing this, that risking lot being the difference between a hospital visit or not, if you get me. I am OWNED by my bro, everything i do has to have consent for him and yes that includes writing a live blog diary!! Any disobedience and that human barbell becomes a play thing of crushing, hitting, bending or worse. So you see why i have to be sooo careful. But, as you will find out if ive been good i get rewarded and thats where the worship part comes in, so ive learnt to take the bad with the ohh soo drool worthingly good. I know you want me to get to the nitty gritty, so here goes, but first i need to show you my master, here he is, Master, 19yr old. I can feel bulges forming and hear mouths gawping up and down the country already!! Yes my bro is a fucking beast, i mean look at those pecs, knotted forearms, bulging tris and powerful rounded shoulders. Its actually this pic that has got me to the predicament im in today, so....... Day 1 This day started and progressed like any other ordinary working day would, we said our goodbyes at the breakfast table, me in my smart wear and my (then) in the tightest tee his tradesman job could get him, i mean jeez it was a sight to see, anyway moving on, Bro always trained after work, more occupants meant more mouths to see dropping which he loved, for me it was home to feed and rest. Involved in that rest is a bit of "me time" which 10 times out of 10 involves me wanking over some hot muscle stud working out and/or posing. That night was certainly no different! This is when i made the first of my 2 , life changing , errors. When watching videos i never put my headphones in, guess what i did that night!! Oblivious to anything happening in the house then! I took a quick scroll through Insta before heading to My Muscle Video, yes you've guessed it, i fell on the above pic of my Master! Screw MMV this was my wank material for the night, already fully tented i started tugging away, all sorts of scenarios running in my head of what i do with that body, getting close to eruption point.......A shadow loomed over me, i felt a strong hand grasp my shoulder, im spun round in my chair, there stood before me, muscles bulging out of a under armour base layer tee, i moaned out loud! I looked up, my bros rugged face one of shock but growing authority, by this point it was too late, the wet patch had appeared very clearly. i threw my headphones off and apologised as many times as i could. I still remember the deep commanding reply, "GET UP!!" Like i was in a trance i got up, head bowed, i couldn't face facing him, without knowing id already kinda started my sub journey. "LOOK AT ME!!" i remember him barking. Again head straight up, crossing his huge arms over his bulging pecs. fuuuuuck what a sight, he demanded to know why i was wanking over his gym pic! Stupidly i started by trying to deny it, big mistake, cue him getting his phone out, going on his insta to that post and shoving it in my face, i went redder then red! The combo of the music and my loss of inhibitions had made me totally forget who he was, i had commented with a PHHWWOARR, a drooling emoji, hot emoji and yes the aubergine one!! SHIT!!!!! I couldn't lie now!! i sank to my chair, and felt it best to come straight out with it, ( exact words may have been different) " i've always found your muscles attractive bro, i like fit guys in general, there are loads at my running club and work, b.b.b.b.bbuut ive never seen anything like yours, you look so big, powerful, dominant and.........(big revealing sigh) HOT! PPPLease dont tell anyone or hurt me!!" The hurt me bit, hmmm, yes i knew my bro could snap me in half easily but just his whole physical presence and aura told me that if i was a stranger id have had the beating works!! So i covered my back as it were. "ON YOUR KNEES!!" i was down in a split second, i remember looking up and seeing him flare his lats, fuuuck they spread like cobra wings and blocked out the above light. " SO YOU LIKE MY MUSCLES DO YOU BRO??" My head like a nodding doll. I watched as he crouched down to my level, placed a caloused couple of fingers under my chin, damn they felt rough, tilted my head up and looked directly in my eyes, i still remember the shiver going through me, SLAP, his other hand connects hard with my cheek, " If you dont want your sick little secret to get out to your friends then your gonna have to be my little skinny muscle slave, understand!!" I was a quivering wreck i somehow put the correct response together in reply. i was went on to be told that i was now his, i would do everything for him, cook, wash, shop, get his supps ready, everything you could think of i now had to do for him going forward, all this to stop my muscle lust for him getting out! "AND ITS NOW MASTER, BOY!!!" There it was the confirmation that i was now officially his slave, no longer would i be calling him bro. "yes Master!" it felt strange but right to have said that. My master then stood up, his new found authoritivness oozing out of him, he peeled his tee off and threw the sweaty fabric in my face, OMG the smell was intoxicating, i breathed it in like was the last scent on earth, i recall moving it all over my face not wanting to miss out any part of that tee, after what felt like a lifetime i liftted my head up, "ttthank you master that was incredible, you smell amazing!!" I got up, before i could take a breath my head was getting thrust towards what i can only describe as a magnificent deep sweaty hairy cavern. My head easily getting manouvered in the pit, the sweat was covering my face like drizzly rain, sniffing, licking, cleaning as i go. My head was lifted out, staring at me was a huge solid peak of muscle, "WHOOAHHHHH" thats the clean version!! Master was only half way through the first syllable of WORSHIP and i was already hands on that impressive arm, my god it felt warm and as hard as steel, my futile attempts at trying to dent it was met with a loud laugh and FUCKING WEAK BOY!!" I agreed without hesitation. Master then pushed me away, i fell against the wall. " thats all you deserve for now boy, now go and cook my food now while i shower!!" I quickly ran out and down stairs, my cock fully tenting again, but i didnt touch it as i wasnt given permission , i could have erupted soo much too!!! Anyway nothing really much happened of note after that, after i had cooked his food i was ordered to my room and told to stay there till morning as master was having friends round, and if i came out or downstairs then.....(master crackibg thick neck and knuckles!) you get the picture. Right i better leave it here as my master will be home soon and i have a 2500kcal meal to prep for him. Fingers crossed i can tell more tomorrow. Let me know what you think of my predicament!!

~~THIRTY-FIVE~~ “M- ma- massaging you- ah… it?” “Yeah, you know, knead away some of the soreness, right along here...” He turned his wrist, his forearm muscles dancing and rippling, individual muscle bellies rising up and separating, veins throbbing as the muscles flexed and pumped. Gregory’s mouth went as slack as his dick went hard. Mark smiled as he reeled in his catch. Sure, he was camp, but he had a hot face and a mouth that he was sure would suck a mean cock. He could think of worse ways to kill time on a 5-hour flight. “Yeah, you see I was doing reverse curls,” he supinated his wrist, mimicking the action of holding the barbell in a reverse curl, “and my extensors - these muscles right here -” he used his other hand and traced, slowly, sensually, along the muscle and around the separations (Gregory didn’t know which arm to focus on, each as erotically, painfully hot as the other) “- they’re sore today.” As he continued tracing, he flexed even harder, pumping up the muscles, exaggerating the separations, dilating and enlarging the veins. Gregory shuddered with lust and desire. “If you press and rub along here,” he indicated a pressure point near the lateral epicondyle, on the outer side of the elbow, “it’ll give me relief and I’d be VERY grateful.” “Sir, I–, we–” “Please. Mark.” “M- Mark, I would love nothing more,” his face, a mix of lust and anguish, said it all, “but we’re not permitted to touch passengers unless it’s an emergency.” He took a deep breath and sighed, like he’d lifted a weight off his shoulders. “Aren’t you the purser on this flight?” “Yes, but–” “So you’re in charge of the cabin?” “Well, yes…” “So, take charge. There’s no one else in first.” Gregory looked torn. How often did anyone get the chance to touch - massage! - a bodybuilder? A young, hot muscle stud in his prime? Of course, the fact that muscle was his fetish made it all the hotter. And the risk amped up the arousal even more. “Well? Get moving, Greg.” Greg groaned, turned on by even that low level of command, imagining Mark taking over, making him his plaything. He hurried off, no trace of campy, effected flouncing now that he had a mission. Mark smiled again, it was so easy. They ate it up, and he would eat it up, he thought. He stood and pumped up with a few bodyweight exercises, a few squats, some push ups and sit ups. He even managed some pull ups using the overhead compartments. By the time Greg returned, his whole body was ultra-pumped, ready for worship, and more. *** Diego’s gravelly growl turned to a roar as he came down Amber’s throat, his diamond-hard cock flooding her stomach with cum. She used her throat muscles to caress his glans and fraenulum as his cock pumped, increasing his orgasm, his pleasure. “NGGHHHH, fuuuuuuucck,” he groaned, a deep gravelly sound from deep within his chest. As he gradually came down from the ejaculatory high, he slowly pulled his dick from Amber’s mouth. She kissed his glans, and tickled the meatus with the tip of her tongue, lapping up the last drips of cum. Fuck she gives good head, he thought. Brad is a lucky man. Maybe she could teach me that throat trick. He growled again as Amber caressed his balls, ever so slightly tickling at first, the barest touch. Erotic fire sizzled throughout Diego, Amber’s every touch scorching. Fuck me, he thought, she’s… fuuuuuuccckkk. His growl reverberated around the room, as his brain struggled for coherence. His balls continued their deluge of more and more testosterone, and Amber stepped up her fondling, using one hand on his balls, the other to press into his taint, stroking and rubbing. By the time she added her full, luscious lips and supple tongue to the mix, Diego was ready to blast again. Brad, Assad, Scott and HE were all turned on by Diego’s arousal, each stroking as they watched Amber working him like the expert that she was. But Diego’s gay, I hear you thinking. He’s not turned on by women. He’s into men. Sure, but you try not being turned on when you’ve got torrents of testosterone flooding through you, your cock is harder than you’ve ever remembered it being, you’ve just had what may well be the world’s best blowjob, and a fucking hot vixen with lips to die for is playing with your junk in a room full of hot, muscular fuckers. Satisfied? Too fucking bad if you’re not, because Diego sure is about to be… He grabbed the base of his cock and stroked furiously, sending flecks of pre flying. Amber simpered as she continued her ministration of Diego’s balls, taint and, now, hole. As she felt him getting close, she licked in and around his hole, the lustful fire in Diego igniting into a conflagration that took over his entire being. The ejaculation, when it came, was epic. It all happened in seeming slow motion, his balls pulled up one at a time, his entire body flexed, his cock somehow swelling even harder, bigger, and then the pumping began. His abs, arse, and entire pelvic floor rhythmically flexed and pulsated with the ejaculation, his cock bouncing, firing off drops of pre before the main show; massive ropes of cum fountaining and arcing into the air. Each pump from Diego’s cock was prodigious, almost the volume of the average man’s total ejaculate. Ten, eleven, twelve pumps… each as productive as the last. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen… at last, the massive cum shot began to subside. Diego’s growl got deeper, more primal with each pump. Diego’s display had set off the others even before he started pumping, and they were finished well before him. Amber laughed as the last few surges from Diego’s cock finally hit her, the others all arcing high above and beyond her. Her laugh was mellifluous, arousing, even as they all just dumped their loads. The room reeked of sex, with a normal volume of cum from the others and Diego’s Olympic pool adding to the aroma. Diego was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling with each massive breath, his abs flexing and relaxing, the serratus and obliques coming into sharp relief on each exhale. His balls dropped back down, having relieved themselves of their load, now busily churning, producing his next load. His cock was deflating, a final dribble of cum hanging by a thread from his foreskin. Amber used her finger to wipe off the thread, bringing it to her mouth and eating the droplet of cum like a cherry, licking her nubile lips as she savoured Diego’s ambrosia. “Fuck, that was…. Wow,” said Brad. He moved over to Amber and kissed her, deeply, passionately. Not a trace of jealousy, not a hint of resentment. Brad was pleased that Amber was able to provide such pleasure - to a gay man, no less. Diego, still slightly dazed and enjoying the post-orgasmic comedown, sat up, watching Brad and Amber kiss. His cock began responding as he joined in the kiss.

~~THIRTY-THREE~~ Diego was like a drug addict, imagining the hundreds of millions of sperm burrowing through his body. Only, he didn’t abhor the idea, didn’t try and claw them out of his body, he welcomed them. The idea of them aroused him, because he knew that soon, they’d allow HIM to get to work, making him a super man. *** HE, too, welcomed the idea of HIS sperm burrowing into all parts of Diego’s body. Not only did HE look forward to making Diego into a jacked beast, but HE wanted to verify that Diego’s recent infatuation with Jake was normal, and not some holdover of Jake’s control. HE wasn’t too sure how HE was going to verify that, though HE had a few ideas of where to start. Depending on what HE found, it could be a normal response to a natural infatuation. HE would find out in a few minutes, HE could sense HIS sperm burrowing into Diego’s bloodstream, where they would be carried to his brain, and the magic would begin. *** Prison policy required prisoners to be shackled to the infirmary bed at all times, their condition permitting. When he was ready to leave, Ralph was supposed to page the guard assigned to the infirmary, who would confirm the prisoner was properly secured, and only then would Ralph pack up and leave. Thankfully, the guard currently assigned to the infirmary was Felipe. “Leave him unshackled. If you need a justification, put it on me.” Ralph said to him quietly, allowing Jake to sleep. He was healing incredibly well, no doubt good sleep would assist with that. “Are you sure?” Ralph nodded. “I am. He’s not a threat, and isn’t going anywhere. But just in case any of them try something again… I want him able to defend himself.” “Not a threat?!” Felipe snorted. “Mate, he took down six of the top Hermanos enforcers, and a guard - one of our biggest, I might add - all while shackled to the bed! Not a threat.” He chuckled, shaking his head. Ralph laughed, “Well, when you put it like that… Jake’s like a venomous snake. If you leave him alone, he’s harmless, but if you try to threaten him, you’re pretty much fucked.” “Even so, I want it on the record that I couldn’t shackle him on your medical advice.” “Already done.” Ralph said, and with that, they both exited the infirmary, leaving Jake to sleep, the door locking closed behind them. Ralph tolerated the drudgery of exiting the prison, which wasn’t as bad as entering, but they still wanted to search his things and pat him down. He drove home, thinking of Jake the whole way, a wide grin on his face, a hard cock in his pants. As he walked up to his door, he was surprised to see another man walking up to him. “Mr Morgan?” The stranger asked. “Yes.” “You’ve been served,” the stranger said, handing Ralph an envelope of papers. More than a little intrigued, he opened the envelope, surprised to see a subpoena summoning him as a witness in Jake’s trial. He turned and ran back to his car, peeling out towards the prosecutor’s office, dialling his phone as he ran. *** Mark hated flying. He wasn’t afraid or anything like that. No, it was just that the whole experience was not designed with people like him in mind. Everything was small, dainty, and cramped, especially in economy. But, really, the same applied no matter which class you sat in, it was only a question of degree. Small cups, tiny drinks, a ‘meal’ that barely touched the sides, aisles so narrow he had to walk sideways, low ceilings that did not accommodate his 201cm (6’7”) height. The leg room? Hah. He would’ve bought a ticket in a higher class, but he was spending ludicrous amounts on roids and food, and had to budget. Bodybuilding was a sport of dedication, discipline and sacrifice. That, and fucking hard work. Balls to the wall, even when it hurt - ESPECIALLY when it hurt. It’s what separated the wannabes from those who wanted to build and sculpt their body to its maximum potential. So, he hunched over as he crossed over the gangway and into the doorway of the plane, and sucked it up. “Good morning, sir!” A particularly chipper and bubbly flight attendant said, “May I see your boarding pass.” Mark handed it over. “19A?” He said, looking Mark up and down with lustful eyes. “Sir, please step this way for a moment while I confer with a colleague,” he said, guiding Mark to the other side of the plane to avoid delaying the boarding of passengers behind him. What now? Thought Mark, as he watched the extravagantly camp attendant flounce away. To each their own, he thought, but he’d never really understood why some of his gay brethren felt the need to not only advertise the fact, but broadcast it so loudly. His musings were interrupted as the attendant returned. “Sir, I’m pleased to be able to offer you a seat in our first class cabin today. Unfortunately we don’t have the catering to give you the first class meal options, but at least you’ll have more room for that studly body of yours. If you’ll make your way up the stairs to the first class cabin, I’ll show you to your seat.” And check out my arse, thought Mark. The attendant certainly wasn’t shy about telegraphing how he felt about Mark. Not that he minded, really. He was used to it, and was flattered, enjoying the attention. *** He had elevated levels of all the ‘crush hormones’ - testosterone, dopamine, norepinephrine, serotonin, oxytocin and vasopressin - but they were within normal physiological levels. He was pinning, but had decent control over aromatase and other unwanted side effects, though his cortisol was quite high so his anabolism was not as effective as it might otherwise be. HIS conclusion? Diego was crushing, hard. He might even be falling in love. He had decent biochemistry to grow, but there was ample scope for improvement. “The good news,” HE said, “I don’t think there’s any lingering effects of Jake’s control over you. I think you’re just falling for him, and who could blame you, really?” HE blushed, HIS own feelings for Jake complicated. Diego looked crestfallen, “But he doesn’t want me.” Maybe I’m not good enough for him, Diego thought to himself. If I make myself into a jacked beast, a muscle god on par with him, maybe then he’ll want me. “Hey, he didn’t say that,” Amber came over and sat next to him, putting her arms around his neck, resting her head on his cannonball delt. After their initial orgasm, they decided to take a break as HE ploughed Diego, curious as to what HE would find. “He just said it was a little fast, that’s all.” It felt odd, Amber thought, comforting Diego, convincing him that maybe Jake did have feelings for him, when she had her own feelings for Jake. She felt no jealousy though, and recent events meant that her own feelings were a mixed bag that she had yet to work through. Brad chimed in, “Exactly, and he’s been through a lot recently, though he doesn’t remember it.” Brad was enjoying the view of Amber cosying up to Diego, both of them naked. They were definitely easy on the eyes, he thought, he was a handsome stud, she a stunning beauty, and he liked that they were all so comfortable with one another. “And even better, there’s plenty of scope to get you growing,” HE said. Diego, growled, his dick swelling. Fuck. Yes.

~~THIRTY-TWO~~ Diego was ready to explode, again. HIS demonstration on Assad, Brad effortlessly carrying Amber, his massive traps rising up as they carried the load, Mike’s incredible physique, Jake… he was more than ready for his turn. “Fuck me. I want to be bigger and stronger than Brad, more jacked than Jake, even more vascular than you just made Assad. I want to be a walking anatomy chart, a fucking super man.” He groaned as he continued stroking his cock, a glob of pre pushed out of the meatus, running down his shaft. He sat forward on the couch, lying back, and raised his legs in the air, presenting his hole to HIM. HE groaned, a surge of arousal coursing through HIM. So it begins, HE thought, the endless parade of hot, built men desperately begging for HIS cock, HIS seed, HIM. *** Scott was going to town on Amber’s face, the sight of Brad’s face diving into Amber’s snatch almost as good as the feeling of Amber’s mouth, her lips and tongue, working his dick. Well, ‘almost’, come on. HE was fucking Assad from behind, who was face fucking Diego. It was a hot scene, but it was nothing compared to what was to come. Scott recalled the conversation he had a while ago - more of a lecture, really - where Brad was explaining his own sexuality, a difficult to categorise combination of heterosexual with homosexual overtones. Not that Scott was trying to categorise his sexuality right at this moment. At this moment, he was focussed on getting his rocks off, which was going just fine. But when HE transformed Assad’s body, Scott’s arousal rocketed to the stratosphere. Assad already looked powerful and intimidating - his size and conditioning would give anyone pause, but when HE made the adjustments, he exuded strength, power, and virility. To Scott, he looked just like a comic book character, a super human with super strength that could do anything; fear nothing. His maturity did nothing to take away from the look, in fact, it added to the arousal factor. Here was a middle-aged man at the pinnacle of physical conditioning, stronger, more powerful than 99.9999999% of the entire population, let alone his demographic. And it all happened in a comparative instant. No months of strict dieting. No days of limited fluid intake. No fatigue and weakness from dehydration, no brain fog and irritability from a lack of carbohydrates (he'd been obsessively reading up on bodybuilding, including contest prep). Amber felt his dick swell and harden in her mouth, his balls pull up as he was about to cum. As he erupted in her mouth, Scott decided. He was always going to follow in his Uncle’s footsteps and build a solid rig, but he was going to be so much more, take things so much further. *** Amber’s own view of what was happening on the couch was mostly blocked by Scott, but she knew what HE was capable of, what the ability enabled, and had already seen similar changes in Jake. She noticed Scott and Brad were both enjoying the show, both their cocks swelling and hardening along with Assad’s body. Her own arousal swelled with the view, and the feelings of the two men she was bringing to orgasm. As she caught glimpses of the transformed Assad, for the first time, she was jealous. Jealous of the sperm ability. Of course, she was thankful she could make changes to herself, but imagine how much hotter it would be to be able to change others. The more she thought about it, the more she could understand how and why Jake went power mad. Not that she forgave him, or felt that she could trust him. If only I could talk to him about it, she thought briefly, her thoughts quickly returning to the eating out and face fucking. She tweaked her arousal as she orgasmed for the first time, Brad really was good at eating out she thought, swallowing as Scott came. *** “Sir!” “Sir, you can’t just go in there! You need an appointment! SIR!” Smith’s assistant was valiantly trying to prevent the visitor from barging in. She was also trying to avoid embarrassing herself as she mooned over him. “You’ve got some nerve, mate!” Ralph was livid. Smith looked up from the papers on his desk and nearly did a double take. Standing before him was the handsomest man he had ever seen. Beautiful in his perfection, even with his expression dark, fury painted all over his face. Smith was vexed to find his cock responding to the seraph standing before him. “A fucking subpoena?!? He’s my patient! I’ve got nothing admissible for you! I…” Ah, the nurse. “Mr Morgan.” He held out his hand to shake, not standing, hiding his growing tumescence beneath the table. What’s WITH that? He thought. First, Robertson, now this Morgan? I mean, he’s fucking breathtakingly gorgeous, but… tumescently so? “Smith? Are you listening?!?” Smith was startled from his reverie, realising that he’d left his hand out for a shake that was not accepted. He quickly withdrew it. “Mr Morgan, you WILL comply with the subpoena, or you’ll be arrested,” he smirked. “Oh, I’ll comply. But I’ve already put complaints in to the Legal Services Board and the Medical Association - who have already indicated they’ll file an amicus brief - and to your boss. You want a fight, you’re getting one.” “Mr Morgan… that sounds like you’re trying to intimidate a prosecutor, maybe obstruct a little justice? I’m merely trying to investigate a heinous crime, and you’re threatening me with baseless complaints just for doing my job. Do I need to have you arrested, Mr Morgan?” Ralph, wisely, said nothing further, turned and left. Smith watched him leave, rubbing his bulge under the table. That shit fight would be worth it just to be in the same room with that dazzlingly handsome man, he thought. His dick hardened as he imagined Morgan and Robertson in the same room, at the same time, both fighting vainly against his superior intellect. *** “It’s not enough,” he said. “What? But he threatened me with arrest.” “He did, but it’s arguable he had cause. He’s smart.” “I could’ve decked the cunt, and that was after only a few seconds in his presence, the smug prick.” Ralph surprised himself at the language, but he couldn’t help it. Smith was a cunt. “He certainly is,” Jervis said. “Thanks for the attempt, anyway. We’ll get him, don’t worry. He’ll slip up. The cocky ones always do.” “Here’s hoping.” “And one more thing, try not to let him get under your skin. If you blow up like that on the stand, no matter how good your position, you’ll lose. You lose the judge, the jury, it’s game over.” “I-” “Seriously. This isn’t Smith’s first case. He knows how to work a jury, the judge. He knows that if he pushes your buttons, Jake’s buttons, Scott’s buttons - it’ll only help his case. So whatever aggression, whatever frustration you’re feeling, sort it out well before you get in that courtroom.” He breathed deeply, “I will, don’t worry.” “Good, otherwise–” “One other thing… I hesitate to say anything, and I may have just imagined it…” “Go on.” “I think he was aroused.” “Aroused?” “By me. I mean, I can’t be sure. He didn’t say anything, and he was seated the whole time, so I couldn’t tell for sure… but I get the distinct impression he was aroused. After he saw me, he got distracted, and a little flushed.” Interesting, Jervis thought. He would never have considered that angle, and didn't think Smith was interested in men, but at the moment they needed any help they could get, to exploit any weakness. Besides, he thought, who wouldn’t get aroused… look at him. No doubt he aroused people all the time, and knew the signs. “Thanks. We’ll keep that in mind. I’ll let Andrew know, too. If you turn him on, maybe we can use you as a distraction.” Ralph snorted. “If I turn him on, Jake would set him alight with arousal.” Is that so? He thought. He might need to pay a visit to this Jake. For the case, his client, of course.

another part. a bit haphazard but that's what i get for being spontaneous. -- To say the reaction Jacob got when he bellied up to the bar that night was dramatic was to undersell it. It was like he'd tapped a glass for attention, as if Priape on a Friday night was a dinner party and not the most raucous gay club in the Village. It made sense, he told himself, waiting for the bartender to stop gaping at him, considering his transformation over the last little while. A year indoors had affected many of the men he knew. Some he recognized in his peripheral vision, eyes wide. More, he didn't. They reacted just the same. Jacob had bloomed in the embrace of his pursuit. Two hundred and seventy five pounds at a paltry ten or so percent bodyfat made up his frame. What was once lithe had hardened and grown. What was once delicate was impenetrable. He knew how he looked: had spent a frankly embarrassing amount of time earlier that day standing in front of his mirror, trying to make sense of what he'd done. His lats lifted his arms, even at rest. His quads were as big as his waist, if not bigger. His shoulders, round and huge and deeply striated, the fibres twitching with every movement. His pecs, so massive he'd finally achieved what seemed mythical- his nipples pointed to the floor. He could barely see them most days, only revealed when he flexed and his chest erupted into striated cords. His ass had grown and raised to the point where he could see it from the front, just peeking out over his hips. His arms, huge and peaked and veiny, near-emitting masculinity at a deafening roar. All this, he knew, was what the men in the bar were reacting to. And yet. He smiled, to himself. The bartender finally found his voice. "You, uh. Can I get you anything?" "A pint of lager," said Jacob, as if the silence around him didn't exist. He pleasantly grinned at the bartender. The twink sitting at the barstool next to him looked like he was thirty seconds from fainting. At some point, as the bartender filled his glass, the DJ must have come to his senses. Music began to fill the room once more, and with it a sense of normalcy that got people talking again. Talking about him, thought Jacob, and shivered minutely. He may have been playing it off outwardly, but this kind of attention was so new that it shocked him. Not that it wasn't welcome, he thought. It was simply novel, and something he'd have to embrace as his work continued. He paid for his beer, thanked the bartender, and scanned the room. People were still eyeing him out of their peripheries with a combination of fear and lust and awe that made his dick twitch, but he didn't see anything that drew him in. Yet. And then- over by the stairs leading up to the patio- he saw him. Tall, broad, hairy, the classic bear's bear. A thick, even beard, short curly dark hair, an air around him that emenated power and confidence. The kind of man Jacob had always wanted, and could never get. He didn't let himself think about it, just sidled over. The man wasn't facing him; he was talking to someone else, maybe a friend. It didn't matter. "Hi," said Jacob, and left it at that. His man turned around. "Wh- Oh. Hello." Jacob waited, patiently, for his gaze to take him all in. It sure took him a while these days to really note every inch of himself; given the previous reaction of most of the room, he figured he wasn't alone. "Well now. You're certainly a big boy." The man extended a palm. "Mike." "Nice to meet you," said Jacob. "I'm Jacob, but I'd hope in a few hours you'll be calling me something else." He shook Mike's hand; left their palms together a little longer than was necessarily friendly. Sure he was laying it on thick, but who wasn't here- many men were out for the first time since quarantine, and the time away had sanded back the social norms to bare minimum. Mike didn't seem to mind. "Cheesy," he said, "but you're so god damn hot I can't get mad. What part of heaven'd you come from?" "My house," said Jacob, and laughed. --- They barely made it into the foyer before Jacob was on Mike, pushing him hard against the wall and kissing him with everything he had. The whole metro ride home they'd played it cool, just chatting about their lives, but the undercurrent of sexual tension was so thick it could've been cut with a knife. Jacob nearly couldn't bear it, the supplements he'd been taking having upped his libido to levels he'd never felt before, but had gritted his teeth and forced patience until- Until now, Mike moaning into his mouth, his calloused hands wrapped around Jacob's thick lats, squeezing and groping the muscle. "You like that?" Jacob asked, breaking the kiss. "You don't even know what you're in for," he growled, pressing closer. "Mmnh. Whaddya mean?" asked Mike. "I haven't even taken my fuckin' shirt off yet," he said, and bodied both of them through the hallway and into the bedroom. He muscled Mike over to the bed, kissing him with a passion so burning it was close to fury. "You ready?" "Christ. Sure. Whatever you're givin I'm takin'," Mike shrugged, a grin on his face. So Jacob took his shirt off. See, at the club he'd been strategic. Black clothes don't cast shadows on themselves, which in a dark or starkly lit environment means that you can't really see how someone's shaped unless they turn a profile. This meant that sure, he looked (and was) huge, but the average onlooker couldn't really get a grasp of what was going on as far as, say, torso definition went. It was obvious the guy had a tight waist- his V-taper was insane- but beyond that it was anyone's guess. Jacob had never stopped his fixation with his abs. Nearly two years of constant, unending, unrelenting torture had turned them into something nearly grotesque. That's how Mike thought of it, at least, trying to make sense of what he was seeing as Jacob peeled off the black T-shirt. First- two lower abs, bulging three inches outward yet so separated they didn't resemble your average turtleshell roid abs in the slightest. Veins, branching and snaking. Incredible striations, clear despite Jacob not looking nearly dieted-down enough to have them. The shirt rose. Two more abs. The obliques beside them, now more clear, unbelievably ripped and confusingly large. Mike didn't quite understand what he was seeing. The shirt rose further, a little more generously than before-- Jacob was getting impatient. Mike could see his whole stomach now, and sat there speechless. A full, unimpeded, ten-pack sat on Jacob's stomach, razor sharp, muscle bellies stupidly plump and full. He wasn't even flexing; Mike realized that only because with every breath, each ab *would* flex for a split second, revealing even more grotesque definition. His serratus were so stark it was as if he didn't have skin. His abs were, at their thickest, five inches deep. "H-How?" was all Mike could say, unable to believe his eyes. Jacob threw the shirt off, exposing his full pecs, and shrugged. "I could tell you but you wouldn't believe me." "I don't care. I-- there's. How did you--" "I spend six hours a day doing weighted hanging leg lifts. And vertical crunches. And Palloff presses. And-- I could list everything, but it'd take a while." He stretched his arms above his head, idly. "Do you want to touch me?" "God. More than anything." Mike was up and in front of him before Jacob could even invite him to be, looking him up and down and nearly salivating. He put a hand on Jacob's abs and gasped. "Christ in heaven." He pushed. Jacob wasn't flexing, still, and could barely feel any force. "You're like-- steel isn't enough to describe it. Oh my god." "Do you want me to flex?" he asked. He was trying to play this all as cool as he could, as if this was the sort of thing he did all the time, but the feeling of finally being worshipped-- of being a figure of awe-- was enough to make his dick swell and harden so rapidly it made him almost light-headed. "I might faint," said Mike, but it wasn't a no, so Jacob did. "Holy mother of God." His abs doubled in size; the striations in them deeper than before, the veins surging up from his groin pumping fatter. His obliques cut sharper, his adonis' belt deeper, every part of his abdomen harder than marble and carved as deeply. Mike took a deep breath, overwhelmed. "I- I don't usually bottom. But- christ. I need you to fuck me."

Employee of the Month, day 12: Hostile Take-Over, part 3. A deep resonant familiar voice from the front of the room caused us all to turn. “Well now, gentlemen, don’t be too hasty.” Mr Jan Sartorius said. “There’s still my vote.” *** The big boss’ sudden appearance caused a commotion among the men. And I do mean BIG boss. Mr S was a good four inches taller than any of the others present and broader in the shoulders than even Hamza, who pumped a fist in the air and whooped. He had a natural, masculine charisma that filled a room, even one as cavernous as the top floor boardroom. Mr S approached us in a sports jacket, button up shirt and slacks, casual dress for him, having clearly come directly from the airport. His gay assistant Brian looked flushed as he dragged their luggage behind him. “You could have texted me!” I whispered in his ear when he stopped next to me, rummaging in his shoulder bag. “No,” he dismissed, pulling out an IPad, “this is much more dramatic, don’t you think?” Mr S knew how to work a room. While Wallace Steel seethed in anger, S went to each board member in turn, smiling and joking, his megawatt charm expunging the bad will from the room. “So nice to see you, Patrick. As handsome as ever.” “I see you have some new tattoos since we last spent time together, Thomas, very chic.” “Zoltan, how I’ve missed you. Have you been working out? Such a manly physique!” “Hamza, my friend, thank you for holding down the fort. You’re as reliable as you are good-looking, and overdue for a promotion.” “Nolan, I always knew I could trust you. The epitome of a Southern gentleman.” When he got to Franklin Treadfoot, former CFO, still nursing his sore leg on the floor, the vibe was decidedly more frosty. “Franklin,” he nodded before moving on to the beat-up lawyers. The first of these he helped to his feet and then crushed his hand while he yelped in pain. The second lawyer fearfully offered a fist bump instead and Mr S obliged with a short punch that cracked his knuckles. He cradled their heads in his huge hands as he leaned in with some advice. “Consider a career change.” Finally he came to Wallace Steel, CEO of SmashBets. “Wallace, my dear old friend,” he smirked as he shrugged his sports jacket off his shoulders and loosened his silk knit tie. “Don’t you know you don't need to go to all this trouble, to get what you really want?” Wallace’s face shifted from anger to confusion to lust as Mr S started to unbutton his shirt. “What’re-- what’re you doing, Jan?” he slurred, mesmerized by the slow reveal of his long-time rival’s smooth deep-cleft pecs. “Whoa!” I whispered to Brian. “These two have a history?” “Oh, honey, do they ever. Best go get the popcorn.” Twenty-five years earlier… Nineteen year old Wallace Steel had just finished setting up his side of the room after saying goodbye to his parents in front of the residence. “But father,” he had complained. “Why must I have a roommate, surely we can afford a single room.” Nathaniel Steel, taller and broader than his eldest son, looking down on him with contempt. “We can afford that, but you can’t afford anything, now, without putting in the effort. You must make your own way, as I did. This is a business school, and you are a businessman now. Business is about relationships. It will be good for you to get your head out of your ass and meet people, you spoiled brat.” Wallace shed a tear as he recalled his father’s words. All he ever wanted was to make his father happy, why was he always falling short? He quickly wiped at his eyes as the door to the shared room flew open. Wallace had been told his roommate was a foreign student, which he thought would be the absolute worst. How was he to work on relationships with a boy who would likely not even speak English? As Jan Sartorius stood in the door and looked about the small room, Wallace couldn’t help but gasp. Here was the most stunning boy he had ever set eyes on in his young life. So tall, he had to duck slightly to enter. Lean, veiny muscles adorned to his long bare arms. Powerful shoulders bulged sideways on his tank-top clad torso, practically brushing the sides of the door frame as he entered. Wallace jumped to his feet to find that his head barely reached the height of those shoulders. The beautiful hunk smiled warmly and held out a huge hand. “I am Jan, from the Netherlands. You must be Wallace. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Wallace shook his hand dumbly, mesmerized by his strong baritone voice. His English was flawless. “Yes,” Wallace mumbled, flummoxed. “That’s me.” Jan wrinkled his nose at their surroundings, however. “No, this will never do. Look at these tiny beds.” He sat down on Wallace’s built-in bunk and raised up his feet to rest them on the poster of U2 Wallace had just hung on the wall. His size 17 sandals completely obscured Bono and The Edge. His long body didn’t remotely fit in the confined space. “Wow, you are really tall!” Wallace gushed as Jan stood up again. “I’m Dutch. It’s so we can see over the dikes,” Jan laughed. Wallace didn’t get the joke, but Jan’s booming laughter was contagious and he joined in. “Come on with me, we’ll fix this.” Jan threw his bare arm over Wallace's shoulder and the shorter student felt himself throw a boner at the skin contact as Jan guided them out of the aging residence toward the administrative building. Wallace sat and watched from a distance as Jan argued at the kiosk with the residence coordinator about the tiny room. Though he never raised his voice, he communicated immediately via his body language that he would not be denied by the small, middle-aged man. He stepped closer, right up against the counter; he was so tall he could rest his muscled arms on the top edge of the plexiglass barrier. While Jan loomed and continued to make his case, the man’s gaze dropped several times to the counter edge in front of him, where Jan’s sweatpants-clad cock and balls were plopped like a purse of gold coin offered for a bribe. When the man shook his head for the third time, Jan’s face darkened. He stood tall and jammed his hands into his pockets in frustration. Wallace saw the man swallow and pull at his collar as that motion caused Jan’s triceps to swell to the size of hams. He then raised his long arms up and down to demonstrate the issue with his height and each time his biceps flexed into cannonballs. Now others in the office were starting to stare. The man’s hands trembled and his resolve withered, he began nodding, and typing frantically into his computer. After another minute, he handed him a new set of keys. Jan cracked a big smile and strode back over to Wallace. “Success! And now we celebrate. Drinks are ‘on me’ as you Americans say.” The improbable duo decamped for the campus pub. As they crossed the quad, Wallace registered with wonder how his new roommate’s masculine beauty and presence affected others. If the gawker in question was far enough in front of them, the staring was more subtle: A slowed walking pace, a swiveled head, a slackening of the lips. However if the onlooker rounded a corner, or suddenly looked up, there would be gasps of delight, moans of lust, dropped books, spilled coffee. A pretty girl walked into a post, a jock took a football in the face, and a bearded, bespectacled professor hastily buttoned his tweed jacket to hide his gigantic boner. Jan missed none of it, but took it all in stride. “Not used to tall guys around here I guess,” he winked, jovially wrapping his long muscled arm around Wallace’s thin shoulders. At the pub, Jan insisted on paying for the first round over the smitten bartender’s protestations, but thereafter, free drinks flowed to their table and admirers abounded. Jan had a disarming way with people, melting away any awkwardness over their fawning with his effortless charisma. Within an hour he was friends with literally everyone in the pub. Even the assholes fell before his charms. A jacked senior jock brazenly challenged him to an armwrestle and then whimpered, humiliated, as Jan easily pinned him within seconds. Jan needed only a few encouraging words and an admiring squeeze of the jock’s pecs to buck up his deflated self-esteem. Wallace reacted against his growing lust for Jan by trying to chat up a pretty brunette gymnast, but the free drinks were taking their toll and he became sloppy and intoxicated. Finally, Jan stood up from the table and helped his roommate to his feet. “Time to get him home,” he said. The others protested but Jan insisted that he had a duty to see Wallace safely back to their new room. Once they left the pub, there was a problem. “Wallace, my friend, you can barely stand.” He slumped against Jan’s tall frame, his face in his roommates broad chest “Waddya mean?” Wallace slurred into his pec. “I’m a man now, like Daddy says. A BIZ-NESS-MAN. I can stand… on my own… two feet.” “We must cross the whole campus to get there. I have a better idea.” Before Wallace could protest, he scooped him up in his arms and began a fast stride toward the far side of campus. “Hey… wait… put me down ya big dummy.” Wallace wriggled in the crook of Jan’s arms, but his roomie was having none of it and flexed his arms to hold him tight. “Don’t be a baby,” Jan said, chuckling at the irony of this statement. “Ugh fine,” Wallace said. He turned slightly in Jan’s grip and came face to face with the enormity of Jan’s flexed bicep. It swelled to the size of a roast beef prepared by Mrs Hedges, the family cook, and looked even more delicious. Wallace felt himself get hard again and he felt instantly ashamed. He shifted again to make sure Jan couldn’t feel or see his erection. He looked behind them and saw that three of the girls from the bar were jogging behind them, trying to keep pace with Jan’s panther-like loping. Finally they stopped and Wallace looked up at a huge Victorian mansion. “This is the President’s residence.” “Is it? We’re not staying there, just the little house on the side. “The guest house. We’re staying in the President’ guest house.” “The little man said it was the only place with king-sized beds.” Jan put Wallace back on his feet and took out the key. Inside, there were two bedrooms, a full kitchen, a living and dining area, and a terrace overlooking a beautiful garden. Wallace grinned from ear-to-ear. He thought of the abandonment he felt being left by his father in that dingy residence, and how this was so much more like home. He looked up at his incredibly handsome new friend and felt a wave of intense feeling come over him. His Dad was right, he was learning about relationships. And about how to get what one wants. Jan was also grinning. “You like it, I can tell,” he winked at Wallace’s tentpole. “I--- I--- I’m a,” he stammered. “I just love real estate so much. Business! I’m a businessman, now!” “Oooo-kay, Mr Businessman, well you should get some rest.” Jan placed his big, heavy hands on his roommate’s shoulders and steered him towards the smaller bedroom. As Wallace laid down on the downy bed. “And hope you don’t mind the noise. I’ve got a business meeting of my own. With some… interested parties.” Wallace pretended to fall instantly asleep but then cracked open the door to watch. He saw the pretty brunette gymnast and two of her friends come in. Within moments they were all over Jan, and he chuckled. “My friends told me American girls would be the horniest in the world” The girls giggled and one said. “My Daddy used to read me bedtime stories of the little Dutch boy who stuck his finger in the dike!” “What a coincidence, let’s see if my little Dutch boy wants to come out and play.” “That’s not little!” gasped the gymnast as she yanked down Jan’s gray trackpants. Jan’s bulbous, muscular ass flexed as he moved the mass of them through his bedroom door and kicked in shut. Wallace fell dreamily asleep, and the darkness soon dissolved into the bright sunshine of Nevada. Wallace stood up, then looked waaaaay up to see the massive wall of the Hoover Dam. Over the roar of the Colorado river below him, he heard a smaller trickle. A small hole had opened up in the concrete nearby and a thin spout of water projected from it. “Oh, no! I have to stop the leak!” Wallace stuck his finger into the hole, but his finger was too small and water continued to leak around it. A shadow fell over him and a booming voice rattled his bones. “Need some help, boy? I have something that will plug that right up.” Jan’s tall broad frame was silhouetted against the bright sun, a wall of manly muscle somehow more impressive than the concrete one before them. More impressive still was his giant battering-ram cock that was as long and thick as Wallace’s arm. Wallace stepped aside as Jan stepped up to the wall and lined his cock up with the hole. “It’s too big!” Wallace exclaimed. “Don’t worry, little Wally, I’ll make it fit. You just need to relax.” The massive cockhead pierced the wall, drilling a hole five times as large as the original. Concrete crumbled around the unstoppable man-meat of an indomitable man. “Ahhh- no! You’re gonna break it.” A spider web of cracks spread out from the hole as Jan thrust the entire girthy length of his cock into the dam. “You gotta trust me, little Wally.” Jan flattened himself against the concrete and began fucking the Hoover Dam like a bitch. Wallace fell back in awe as watched his roommate’s powerful legs and glutes transform into steel machinery. The muscular ridges and valleys of his yard-wide back rivaled the landscape around them. His huge strong hands crunched into the wall to get a better grip as he doubled the pace of his fucking. Now the cracks began to spread rapidly up and outward until they reached the top of the structure. Wallace wailed as he sensed the enormous pressure of the water behind the dam. He felt it build and build almost like the pressure was within himself. The formerly rock-solid structure around them began to vibrate. He lost the ability to speak as his breathing became more and more rapid. All he could do was listen to his roommate’s powerful baritone voice echoing across the canyon. “Yeah, you like that, slut?” “Fuck yeah, you wet for this cock?” “You like that big dick busting you open?” “You gonna cum for me, bitch?” Wallace screamed as a huge chunk the size of a football field fell on them. Jan caught the steel-reinforced concrete mass and held it aloft while he continued to fuck the Hoover Dam. “That’s it bitch. Take that cock!” “Gonna fill you up with my load, slut.” Jan tossed the slab aside like a pebble and doubled the speed of his fucking. With a roar he flexed his glutes hard, slamming his piledriver dick into the dam up to the hilt. As Jan came, the dam finally burst and a tsunami of pure white jizz exploded out of it. Wallace screamed as cum-covered rock slammed into his head. With a start he woke up, disoriented. He could feel the whole house shaking and he leapt from his bed in a panic, running naked to Jan’s room to bang on the door. “Stop! You’ve got to stop!” The door yanked open and Jan stood, his naked body gloriously backlit, a godly halo of shiny sweat covering his engorged muscles. His ridged eight-pack of brick like abs formed a backdrop for his giant cock, a perfect match for the one in his dream. The three girls were lined up on the king sized bed, all still heaving from simultaneous orgasms. When Wallace looked up into Jan’s face, for the first time it was wrathful, not kind. “WHAT?” “Ohhhhhh…. Shiiiiiit!!!” Wallace cried as a soul-wracking orgasm shot through him. His stiff dick spurted his load up like a gunshot, blasting into Jan’s heaving chest. A stray drip landed on Jan’s chin. Jan was shocked out of his anger and just stood there stunned, he wiped the drip from his chin and looked at Wallace, blinking. “I--, I’m sorry, Jan, please forgive me,” Wallace’s panting face flushed with shame. Jan shook his head and slammed the door in his face. A moment later, he regretted this and wrenched the door open again. “Wallace--” But Wallace was gone, fled into the night. In the morning, Jan discovered he’d transferred to another business school. *** Back in the boardroom, Wallace Steel moaned involuntarily as our fearless leader stripped down in front of him to just his white jock. “My friend, this decades long antagonism between us need not continue. When I heard that you wanted to acquire my company I made some changes to ensure that men like you would be welcomed. We have two gays now in the office and I think they would tell you it is a place where they can be themselves and even be their best selves.” Brian dragged me forward and we stood beside the two. “It’s true, this company is really a gay man’s wet dream.” I could only concur. Wallace stuttered. “I don’t understand. You *want* me to acquire TopSports?” “Oh no, dear Wallace, I’m afraid the circumstances have changed. We’ll be acquiring SmashBets.” Brian held up his Ipad to show a videocall with the SmashBets board. “Sorry Wallace, it seems on your watch, our stock price has dropped, while that of TopSports has soared with the recent innovations of their betting app, about which we have just received the most delightful presentation by the handsome Cameron.” Cameron flexed his prize winning bicep in victory for his boss. “Mission accomplished.” Wallace stammered: “But how?” “With our new market cap, I was able to present them an offer they couldn’t refuse. But how about you, my old friend, don’t I have anything to offer you?” Mr Sartorius brought his arms forward swelling all his muscles in a devastating most muscular. “Join us, and we’ll take over the world.” “Yes, god yes!” cried Wallace as he spurted in his dress slacks. “Oh fuck,” cried Brian as he came at the same time. I huffed as my dick pasted the inside of my briefs: “Welcome to the teeeeeeaaaaaammmmm----” The End (but look out for a Pride Month epilogue!)

LUKE - part 6: HOW IT ALL BEGAN “Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where…” Bob, a fit, tall, bearded oak of a man switched off the tv. “What are you doing man? This is my favorite show.” Victor said. Bob’s colleague stood up to grab the remote to turn on the tv again. “Wait wait wait” Bob quickly said “you hear that?” His colleague listened carefully. His glasses were slowly sliding down his nose. A sleek index finger pushed them back up as he concentrated on whatever sound Bob seemed to hear. Both men were standing completely still. The room was filled with monitors displaying graphs, numbers and a shitload of complicated calculations. It was a small building, but on top of its roof was a very large satellite pointed to the sky. Bob and Victor have been best friends since elementary school and became passionate colleagues searching for extraterrestrial life several years ago. And now, after all these years, it looks like their satellite was picking up some kind of signal from space. A low buzzing sound came from the tall speakers on either side of the main monitor. It was very faint, so Bob turned up the volume. “Don’t you hear that?” he asked Victor. “Uh, yes?” Victor responded with a slightly puzzled look. “Isn’t that the sound speakers always produce?” Bob didn’t respond. He turned up the volume all the way to max. The buzzing sound was now very clear. “Listen!” Bob said. A few seconds passed as both men waited intently for any sound, other then the low buzz, to come from the speakers. Suddenly there was a higher sound. Very quickly. And then another. Then a few seconds of low buzzing noice again. The higher frequency sounds seemed to repeat every minute. “Oh wow, is this coming from…out there?” Victor said as he pointed to the sky. “I don’t know, but it sure has my attention.” Bob replied as he started recording the sounds. After about 35 minutes the sound stopped. No higher frequency noises, but also no buzzing sound as well. It just stopped. “Wait, that’s it?” Victor said, disappointed with such a small recording. “Well, we have been searching for so long and never received anything. So this, to me, is huge.” Bob answered. “I believe we really have something, but we just have to carefully analyze the recording. If this is a message from space, from another world, then we are going to become two of the most famous people of all time.” Bob’s enthusiasm also gave Victor a lot of energy to start looking at the recording very closely. They used the next couple of days to decipher the recording. To see if there’s some kind of hidden message. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. And after 8 months of testing, analyzing, translating and making all kinds of calculations, they somehow cracked the sounds. It was clear that these sounds were not produced by nature. They were definitely artificial. Victor figured out that the sound was coming from a planet many light years away from Earth. “This is such a massive discovery!” Victor said as he gave Bob a big hug. They realized they might have discovered extra terrestrial life. “…where no one has gone before!” Bob said with a big smile on his face. Bob discovered it wasn’t just some random noise. It was a message. He still does not know what the message means, he wasn’t able to really translate it. But he did discover what the message can do to people when they hear it. Or at least…it was his son that discovered it. Bob took the recording home to finally show it to his son. The 16 year old boy couldn’t wait. He heard so much about his father’s discovery and today he was about to hear the otherworldly message. “Okay son, are you ready?” Bob said as he put his laptop on the table. He didn’t have to wait for an answer. His son’s face spoke volumes. So the recording started and both father and son listened carefully. Bob was able to get rid of all the background noise and only keep the actual signals. So the buzzing sounds, the high beeps etc. were all very clear. “So this is a message from space huh?” the young teen asked. “It sure is.” Bob beamed. “What does it m…” the boy stopped “unhh…dad?…I-I….f-feel….unnhh…weird.” As the recording continued playing, the boy was unable to speak clearly. He was feeling very strange. Something inside him was changing. He could feel it. It was a warmth spreading throughout his entire body. It reached every limb, every organ, every cell. Bob stopped the recording and just like that the feeling was gone too. “No no no dad! Keep it going, I’m fine.” The boy pushed the play button again. He felt like he needed this. He really wanted the recording to continue. As the strange sounds returned, so did the warm feeling in his body. “W-wow…I f-feel g-great.” Bob’s son smiled. He almost seemed to glow or something. “Son, I don’t know what’s going on, but if the recording is doing this, then maybe we have to stop it. I need to investigate this. For all we know it’s damaging your body.” Understanding his father’s concerns, the young teen reassured Bob, “no dad, it’s fine. I don’t think the message is trying to damage me at all. As a matter of fact,” the boy raised his arm and flexed his bicep “I think the sounds are actually improving my body.” Bob looked confused and amazed at the same time. He could actually see his son changing, building muscles, seeing them grow every second. But it wasn’t just his muscles, something else was changing too. It was hard to describe, but it looked like his son’s attractiveness went up as well. Bob didn’t really see anything changing, it was more like a feeling. As if his opinion about his son’s handsomeness was being influenced to be more positive. As if someone turned a dial to increase the level of beauty. And the longer the recording kept playing, the more his son was changing. Bigger muscles, sexier, manlier. “God yeah, this feels amazing!” the young teen said. “More!” His pecs shot forward. “Morreee!” His biceps doubled in size. “MORRREE!” His abs turned into a perfect 8-pack, his ass turned into two round muscular globes. “MOOOOOOOORRREEE!” His voice boomed through the room as his legs exploded with muscle, ripping his pants apart. His torso expanded too, completely destroying his shirt. The boy grew several inches taller as well. Bob was amazed, and a little turned on as well. Afraid something bad would happen, he turned off the recording and grabbed his laptop. “Enough, we don’t know what’s really going on. We have to investigate the effects further. You are the first this has happened to. But you’re my son and I don’t want you to get hurt.” “I’m not, dad. I feel incredible. Fuck, look at me.” The boy flexed his bicep. “Look at how big it is. How can this be bad? I’ve turned into the hottest boy in class. Heck, I might be the hottest boy in school. B-…I mean girls will be all over me now.” he beamed. He looked so happy. “I need a mirror, I wanna see my new body.” Bob was unable to respond. His son really did look amazing. He could only watch as his son left the room and went upstairs. Probably giving the mirror one of the most overwhelming shows of muscle flexing. “I so hope you are fine.” he almost whispered. — 3 YEARS LATER — Ever since his son transformed into a hulk, Bob has been studying the recording further. He found out the sounds are at a very specific frequency, but nothing he could reproduce himself. It almost looks like there’s a hidden alien technology embedded in the sounds. It’s way too advanced to be reconstructed by humans. Maybe in the far future. Bob also can’t explain why this signal was sent to Earth. But even though he has several unanswered questions, he also discovered a lot of other things. First of all the sounds can transform people into hyper studs. Giving them amazing bulging muscles and an endlessly increased level of hotness. Their faces so sexy they redefine what humans thought was beautiful. But if you’ve ever witnessed the result of someone transformed by the recording, you’d find every single top model utterly ugly. The second thing is that the recording only affects men. Bob has no idea why, but women are not affected at all. And it also only works with a specific group of men. They have to still be in puberty, but so far only 16 year olds or older have changed. And still, it only works with some guys. After consulting several doctors and scientists, secretly experimenting on men, Bob discovered there’s something in the boys’ DNA. It’s one gene, or a set of genes that need to be active in order for the boys to grow muscles while listening to the recording. As far as Bob knows, and it’s a very rough estimate, about 0,0001 percent of the human population is affected by the alien sounds. That’s still a lot of people, but Bob is keeping the recording hidden from the rest of the world. And for good reason. Something terrible happened. He took his son to Victor to show what the sounds had done. Victor was in absolute awe of the changed boy in front of him. “This is fucking incredible” he said “did you let your other son hear the recording as well?” Bob couldn’t believe his ears. “He’s 14. I don’t even want him to know about it!” But as the years went by, and they discovered what the sounds could do, Victor’s curiosity increased and he secretly lured Bob’s younger son to the lab. “You are 17 now and I want to see what effect these sounds have on you” Victor explained. Soon after he turned on the recording, the boy started to change. Something was different though. He was somehow affected way more then any other guy so far. His body basically exploded in size. Victor’s brain was unable to process the boy’s transformation. His muscles were so ripped, literally looking unbeatable. And that face, his eyes, his smile, and then that hyper manly voice. Victor was looking at a god. His hand shot to his heart. It hurt so much. And then his heart stopped. Victor was the first to be killed. Not really because of the teen stud, but basically because of the alien sounds. When Bob found out what happened, he took the recording and ran away. Leaving both his sons behind. Bob did continue experimenting though. But all by himself. He secretly uses the recording to document his findings. And there are rumors he found a way to manipulate the sounds. But nobody knows for sure, and nobody really knows what kind of manipulation. Bob hasn’t shown his face in public ever since he left. — TODAY — Luke is holding a picture in his hands. It’s a picture of his dad, Bob. He doesn’t know where his dad is and he misses him greatly. Ever since Luke accidentally killed Victor, his father has been avoiding him. Afraid of being turned on by his own son. Afraid of being killed as well. Luke has been affected by the recording the most. Of all the boys who transformed, Luke has become the biggest, sexiest, hottest, manliest and most irresistible of them all. And on top of it, he is still able to grow. His body sometimes randomly grows bigger. Sometimes he just gets a bit taller. Other times his muscles get more defined. And sometimes only his cock grows. He also sometimes doesn’t grow at all, but just gets stronger. Luke can feel it happening. He just knows he got stronger. But his unfathomable beauty is also dangerous for most other people as they can’t handle him. So he has been searching for someone who can sort of resist his sexiness. Even if it’s just a little bit. All that person has to do is survive an encounter with Luke. So far the only one who survived him is Mike. And that means Mike has the correct genes. The perfect genes. — A CITY NEARBY — “Fuck yeah….fuck, you sexy monster…show me what you’ve got!” a particularly heavy voice said. It was a young guy with an amazing body. Very ripped, with bulging muscles everywhere. He’s completely naked, his left hand stroking a 14 inch unbelievably thick cock. It was so thick that even with two hands the stud has difficulty completely getting his fingers around it. He was watching a video of Luke where he shows off his monster orgasm. “I’ve listened to your voice and I’ve seen your cock video…and I survived…fuck yeah! No show me how much you can cum, you super god.” As if Luke could hear what the guy was saying he balls contracted as they forced the first stream of extremely thick potent cum through his weapon of mass destruction. The first shot lasted 20 seconds and was so powerful, it splashed against the ceiling. Big blobs of cum fell down from the ceiling, quickly covering large portions of the floor. The next shot was just as powerful, just as potent and just as voluminous. The cum looked so incredibly thick, it could hardly be called liquid anymore. For minutes Luke’s baby batter kept shooting from his hyper cock. The room was entirely covered in an ankle deep layer of godsperm. “Damn, that was amazing.” The stud was breathing heavily. He was pretty exhausted. Just watching Luke empty his giant balls was making Vince horny like nobody else could. “I so needed that. Finally someone who can give me the pleasure my body craves.” Just seconds after he said that, his body started swelling bigger. His shoulders grew rounder. His abs pushed forward. Thick veins were popping up all over his upper body. A particularly sexy vein snaked over his abs, down to his super thick horse cock. It pumped his rigid organ even thicker. Its head grew purple and shiny, expanding to the size of a cantaloupe. It made his cock’s length increase to 16 inches. Vince’s libido went up as well. The need to fuck was ten times greater then that of the horniest pornstar in the world. Vince was moaning heavily. His cock smacking against his pecs. His nipples pulsing from excitement. His entire body was glistening with sweat. “You are so going to grow me even bigger. I’ll make you my personal slut!” a way deeper voice said. “My voice is finally getting deep enough to maybe even arouse you, little brother.” Vince ended the video about Luke’s define orgasm. He probably needs to jerk off several times to get his cock to go soft again. In the meantime Luke sent a few files to Mike. It was the voice recording, the video about his cock growing erect and then the video about his balls shooting the biggest amount of sperm, from a single orgasm from just one person, in the history of mankind. Luke wrote a small text to accompany the three files; “Hopefully these clips are training enough for you, dude. So when I come back, you’re ready to really start worshipping me!”

~~THIRTY-ONE~~ The sight of Assad’s perfect arse, filling HIS view, and Diego’s hard cock leaking pre into HIS mouth had HIM ready to blow in no time. HE knew Assad still needed convincing, that he was still an unbeliever. Perhaps a demonstration might convince him, HE thought. HE stood on the edge of the couch behind Assad, lining up with his incredible arse. Diego smiled around Assad’s cock, and used his hands to spread Assad’s cheeks as he released the flex, the granite-like striated masses reverting to pants-filling bubble-butt globes. HE rubbed HIS glans around Assad’s hole, lubricating pre leaving a sheen, his hole puckering and quivering in anticipation. HE pushed in, slowly. Assad bucked when HIS cock reached his prostate, his cock flexing in Diego’s mouth, nearly choking him. They all three groaned, as they coordinated their movements, Diego deep throating Assad with each thrust forward. Their movements gradually sped up in a slow, steady crescendo. A crescendo that matched their arousal, all three cresting at the same time, each exploding. Diego sucked down Assad’s cum, swallowing like a champ, his own cock pumping out sprays of cum as he swallowed. HE filled Assad, the voices of HIS sperm immediately available to HIM in a corner of HIS mind. HE instructed them to burrow into Assad’s bloodstream, and waited for access to Assad’s subconscious. As HE waited, each of them were coming down off their orgasmic euphoria and Assad moved to sit on the couch next to Diego, enjoying the hint of his own taste as they kissed. “So, Assad, what can I do to convince you? How can I prove to you that the vaccine ability is real?” HE asked. Assad snorted as he continued kissing Diego. Diego’s cock, already slowly hardening again as they continued kissing, was suddenly ramrod straight and hard as granite. He believed. He knew what HE was capable of, and he looked forward to whatever demonstration HE was about to give. “You’re already a beast. Massive, vascular… how about we get you ready to step onto a bodybuilding stage where you’d wipe away the competition?” Assad, intrigued now, came up for air. “What did you have in mind?” “There’s only so much I can do immediately, of course, things like fat burning, for example, take time. But I can maximise what you’ve already got, and you’ve got a LOT to work with…” HE concentrated, not adept at making these sorts of changes. Assad felt… something. He felt flushed, hot. He looked down at his body and gasped. HE smiled, “Vasodilation, an adjustment to the body’s fluid balance, manipulation of glycogen stores… and BOOM, your veins are super prominent.” Normally, Assad was impressive - no, that was an understatement - he was more than merely impressive. Massive size, awesome vascularity… but this, this was on a whole other level. His entire body exploded with vascularity, his muscles appearing ultra hard, dense and full, each with a roadmap of veins criss-crossing its surface. Huge, hose-like veins branched umpteen times, down to the tiniest of venules feathering across every inch of his skin. His forearms bulged with throbbing veins, his quads showing a massive root system of vascularity. It almost looked like he had no skin, just masses of muscle fed by a massive network of vascularity. As he watched, the super-vascularity faded, his muscles losing some of their apparent density and fullness. He couldn’t help but feel disappointment as his body reverted back to how it was before. Though his normal state was incredible, it didn’t hold a candle to what he’d just witnessed, what he’d just been. “How-? What-?” He didn’t know what to say. HE smiled, “I see you liked what you saw,” pointing to Assad’s swelling cock. “Let’s help you out a little.” Assad writhed and groaned as HE amped up his pleasure, firing off nerve impulses from within. Assad felt as though a thousand mouths were attacking his cock, his balls, his hole and taint, impossible mouths that were licking, sucking, stroking from within and without. A flood of pre poured from his cock, which was harder than it had ever been, ready to explode. “Just say the word,” HE said, “otherwise you’ll keep edging, approaching the abyss, but never crossing the line.” Assad continued writhing and groaning. HE amped up the feelings even more. Assad began panting, his entire body aflame with arousal, with pleasure, his mind able to focus on nothing else. Diego was stroking his cock watching the erotic display, a bead of pre pumped out from his meatus, hanging by a thin thread that finally broke as he continued stroking. “Please,” Assad panted, “no, nggghhhh,” he panted again, “no more.” The last words barely a whisper. “As you wish.” Assad’s balls pulled up, and his cock exploded with cum. Huge arcing ropes of cum spewed from his cock, his entire pelvic floor, his entire core, flexing and pumping, helping to drive out great fountains of cum from his granite-hard cock. By the time it was over, Assad was breathing hard, his mammoth chest rising and falling, covered in cum. “Fuck,” he breathed, “that was… I don’t have the words to describe it.” HE smiled. “You don’t need to tell ME, I felt it too,” HIS hard dick dribbling pre attested to the truth of HIS words. HE probably took things a little far, HE thought. By the time he was exploding, Assad was almost in pain from the pleasure. They really are two sides of the same coin, HE thought, as HE restored Assad back to normal. “And Jake had this ability?” Assad asked, still breathing heavily. “Yes,” HE nodded, “only he also used it to inflict pain.” Assad shuddered, imagining the unreal pleasure he’d just experienced, but as excruciating pain. “He also addled his victims’ brains, using combinations of hormones, pain and pleasure, to bind them to him, enslave them, eliciting intense and unwavering feelings of adulation and worship.” Assad could believe it. The small taste that he had just experienced already had his brain addled, a craving to experience such intense pleasure again, an even greater longing to see that his body was permanently improved, insane vascularity, insane size and density, insane strength and power, a cock able to spew out torrents of cum at will, giving him intense pleasure. He groaned as he grabbed his swelling cock, imagining the improvements that he would have HIM make.

~~TWENTY-NINE~~ Diego growled, deep and low, the bulge in his jeans growing. HE savoured Diego’s body, HIS hands roaming across the expanses of muscle, tracing vascularity, lips and tongue following the separations. Diego growled again, animalistic, his arousal peaking, getting off on the worship of his muscles. He worked hard in the gym and enjoyed showing off his hard work. But, like many gym rats, he wanted more. More size, more definition, more strength. And HE was going to make that happen. As a bead of pre worked its way up his urethra, Diego shivered with arousal, the release of pre an erotic precursor. *** Amber stood, her voluptuous body slinking out of her dress with ease. She had amped up her libido, blood flow increasing to her tits and lips - both sets - swelling them, preparing her for the ravaging to come. Scott stood, his tenting pants showing off his arousal, and moved behind her. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her back, making his way down, slowly. He unclasped her bra, releasing her fantastic rack, cupping them in his hands, tweaking her ultra sensitive nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. She moaned as he worked her nipples, pleasure spreading throughout her body, but most of all in her groin, as though there was a direct connection between the two. Brad stood and moved to kneel before her. He traced his calloused, strong fingers up her inner thighs, his touch surprisingly deft and gentle. He removed her panties, bringing them down slowly, savouring her long, shapely legs, her scent, so close to his face. Scott reached down, fingering her from behind, as he continued working her breast with his other hand. Assad was enjoying the view, noting that Diego did appear bigger and more vascular than he remembered. Though gay, sex was sex, and seeing others turned on in front of him turned him on too, and when one of those was Brad, well… next stop, Horn City. *** HE felt Diego’s deep growl through HIS lips more than HE heard it through HIS ears, an intense bass vibration reverberating throughout his torso. As HE suckled on Diego’s nipple, flicking the very tip with HIS tongue, the growl intensified, drowning out Diego’s strong heartbeat. HE slowly licked downward, around the bricks of abs, following the trail of neatly trimmed hair down towards the treasure trapped in his jeans. As Diego’s arousal increased, he was itching to release his cock, but he resisted, allowing HIM to take charge, to set the pace. As HE reached Diego’s bulge, HE grabbed at his inner thighs. The muscles tensed and flexed, the denim fabric straining, the seams creaking as Diego’s quads expanded, a network of veins visible even through the heavy fabric. HE pushed his legs further apart, giving HIMSELF more room between the tree trunks and easier access to Diego’s surging bulge. HE burrowed HIS face into the bulge, nuzzling into his turbulent balls, pushing at them through the denim, purposefully avoiding the throbbing shaft above. HE reached blindly for the belt buckle, HIS view obstructed by the mountainous bulge, distracted by the cock straining against the fabric, pulsating with each heart beat, striving for release. Diego squirmed under HIS attention, his cock diamantine. HIS hands found the buckle, pulling the length of wide belt through, allowing the ends to hang down to either side of the ever-swelling bulge. Button fly. More difficult, HE thought, but not impossible. HE unbuttoned the top button with HIS hands, spreading the two ends of the fly. HE shuddered with arousal. Commando. Fuck. *** Jason woke, screaming, covered in sweat. He’d had a nightmare. Only it wasn’t a nightmare. Oh, he’d had a nightmare, alright, the problem was, his nightmare was merely a reflection of his reality. In his nightmare, the Hermanos were after him because he owed them money. Funny about that. Maria stirred, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, go back to sleep. Just a nightmare.” A living nightmare, he thought. How was he going to raise $250,000 in a week? Even if he was to take out a second mortgage, he’d struggle to get it done in a week, unless he went to a loan shark, and in that case the cure might be worse than the disease. He lay awake for a long time, continuing to sweat, and it was not a warm night. *** Amber was already wet, Scott’s ministrations together with the view of Brad kneeling before her more than enough to set her off. She grabbed Brad’s head with both hands, and pulled him into her. Of course, she could not move him if he didn’t want to be moved, but he eagerly allowed her hands to guide his head, his tongue working around Scott’s fingers, driving her wild with desire. Assad began unbuttoning his shirt, a blue button-down that set off his hazel eyes, the exotic combination of eye colour and Middle-Eastern features tantalising, irresistible. He was growing out his beard, a thick, black beard that he trimmed to a point before his chin, and a neat line mid-way along his cheeks. The hair on his head was kept closely cropped, but he preferred the rest of him hairless, which brought out his striations and vascularity. He continued unbuttoning, slowly revealing the beastly body beneath. Assad rivalled Brad in size, and was almost as conditioned as Jake, slabs of muscle upon muscle cording, bunching and flexing as he untucked the shirt and peeled the sleeves from arms the size of most men’s legs. Decades of hard work in the gym had given him a hard, dense, defined look that only those truly dedicated to the alter of iron could obtain. Well, those dedicated and those enhanced by vaccine abilities. HE was yet to prove HIMSELF as far as the ability was concerned. HE had the same ability to make changes that Jake had, sure. Well, more accurately, Jake had had the same ability that HE had, but Jake had more practice, and more opportunities to hone the changes that would optimise muscle growth, fat burning and vascularisation. HE knew the theory, of course, but theory and practice often didn’t quite gel.

Would James be a big guy that big?

Will be posting the pages of the third comic shortly! It’s based on a story by Big Wishes - go check him out here: https://www.tumblr.com/bigwishes For now, here's the cover page Feel free to check out my Twitter as well https://twitter.com/GDSMuscleFreaks Cheers, GD

~~THIRTY-SIX~~ Mark was pumped, his body responding to the bodyweight exercises by filling each muscle with blood, engorging his veins. He looked incredible. Ripped to shreds. Mark’s issue, the reason he was not yet a Pro was not his lack of conditioning, or an inability to cut. His problem was his size, and more specifically, his height. Unlike many sports, being tall is a distinct disadvantage in bodybuilding. Taller bodybuilders have to work that much harder than their fellow Napoleon-complexed brethren. Not only does being tall make many lifts much more difficult, and more work, a taller bodybuilder has to pack on much more muscle mass to look big, full, hard and dense. Take deadlifts, for example, a taller deadlifter has to lift the bar a much further distance than a shorter one, which means a taller lifter has to work harder than a shorter one. It’s pretty simple - moving a given weight further means more work, a more difficult lift. It’s similar for almost every movement - squats, pulls of any kind, dips… almost every lift requires a tall lifter to move through a greater range of motion, move the weight further, having to work harder. Not that Mark didn’t work hard in the gym. He was a beast, and smashed it out, without fail. And he was BIG. But optics being what they are, he doesn’t look as big as a shorter guy with the same sized muscles. A shorter guy will look more stacked, fuller, denser, even though they may measure the same size with a tape measure. It’s an optical illusion relating to relative sizes, and Mark fucking hated it. So he was behind the eight ball in his chosen sport at 201cm/6’7”. It was one reason he was on this flight. Rumours have been spreading far and wide - the bodybuilding community around the world have been talking about this gym, and what their coaches are capable of. It had always had a stellar reputation - top notch facilities, top coaches, top everything, really - but lately the rumours have been insane - almost as insane as the apparent results - so Mark needed to check it out for himself, especially as he’d already been thinking of moving anyway to further his physique goals, and this opportunity just sounded too good to be true. He wanted to pack on mass to fill his tall frame and become a mass monster so he could outshine all other competitors. His musing was interrupted by Greg’s return. *** Diego felt… he didn’t really have the words to describe how he felt. A million bucks. Fucking fantastic. A walking erection. Pumped, powerful, virile, ultra-manly. Confident. Horny. Aggressive. Like he could move mountains. Crush mountains. All of the above, and more. His body was already primed for the changes HE made. As one of Jake’s minions, his balls had already started growing more Leydig cells to keep up with the hyper-demand for testosterone, his muscles were already prepared for the androgenic effects, muscle memory well and truly working in his favour as his androgen receptors responded. His vascular network was already working overtime to grow and feed his new muscles. As incredible as it seemed, he was sure he could already see changes. His huge orgasm and mighty ejaculation had his entire body flexing, and his entire body felt pumped, tight, and tingling with arousal and virility. His third orgasm with Brad and Amber finally had his cock deflating, but it was still at half-chub, and only needed a tiny push to rev him up again. He could feel a pleasant turbulence in his balls, and a heaviness, like they were weighed down. And they were, weighed down with the responsibility of pumping him full of testosterone. He fondled them, caressing them as he dressed. He looked hot in his jeans before, now, he sizzled, blazing like the sun. They looked painted on. His pumped muscles testing the fabric and the seams to their absolute limit. His bulge was more pronounced, and his fantastic bubble butt sat even higher and more rounded. His quads swept out further, the largest veins visible through the fabric. Shirtless as he was, he oozed sex. The others, especially Assad and Amber, intently watched him thread his belt through the loops in his jeans and then buckle it. Such a simple movement, yet so sensual and erotic. He couldn’t wait to hit the gym, feeling like he could lift the world. Just the thought had his chubbed cock swelling, straining against the tight denim. *** Greg hesitated, not saying anything. Mark was out of his seat, standing in the aisle. He looked spectacular, pumped, hard, vascular. Greg’s already swelling cock hardened at the sight. Mark also said nothing, he merely crunched down into a wild most muscular pose, muscle upon muscle rising up, veins exploding all over and dilating with the flex. Greg shuddered with desire, arousal. He slowly moved closer, prompting Mark to bear down, flexing even harder, grunting with the effort. His muscles swelled with his efforts, putting on quite a show for Greg. Greg raised his arm, almost afraid to touch. Mark grabbed his wrist, his grip strong, authoritative, and brought his hand to his left pec. Greg groaned as his hand met the imposing, immovable granite of Mark’s pec. He could feel the throb of his heartbeat beneath the rock hard muscle, mirroring the throbbing of the dick in his pants. Greg used his other hand to reach under Mark’s top, caressing his hard washboard abs. Mark grabbed the neck of this top and pulled it up, the top snagging on his flared lats and pec shelf. Greg gaped as Mark’s upper body was revealed in all its glory, not knowing where to look, where to focus his attention, each body part more developed than the last, more arousing. He grabbed his tented bulge and squeezed his cock, groaning. Mark smiled a dazzling smile, enjoying the effect his body was having on him. He grabbed his head and pulled him to his pecs, encouraging him to suckle on his hard nipples. Greg was in heaven, using his lips and tongue to play with hard nipples, while his hand roamed over the hard body. Mark was becoming aroused by Greg’s attention, and he brought his hands to his bulge, rubbing and stimulating himself. This flight wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Gonna dip into the university campus genre with the Employee of the Month finale, via a flashback to the youth of Mr Sartorius and his rival Wallace Steel. But don't worry, boys, for June there will be an epic Pride Month epilogue where all your favourite straight office muscle alphas from TopSports are let loose on an unsuspecting gay public as a planned corporate Pride Parade event goes deliciously awry.

Many news happened about the flood, many countries called the area the infected land, some military thought of trying to harness the parasite's power, many of these were caught and even started to name the kinds of men who fell victim to the goop: parasitized. A lab in a desolate place near the infected land researched that phenomenon, especially the head of the operation, Seb, he researched those men to know their origin, how it happened and what exactly is this goop. He just hired a new scientist from another town called Tony. Tony arrived and greeted Seb, he guided him to a room with lots of chambers and they stopped in front of a chamber with glass to see the inside of the room, in the room was an enormous muscular man with balls so huge they looked like wrecking balls, he was strapped to a table with a pump injected into his dick. Tony:What is this ? Seb: This, my dear Friend is what we named a breeder, it seems to be the main reproductary of the goop, it is the only one with working sexual organs. We also found out this type of man is… Hmmm let's say Cumming is like eating or breathing for them. If they don't cum, they will go crazy. Tony:What do you mean ? Seb: We let this man in the room for 5 hours and he kept screaming his lungs out, almost threatening to destroy the walls until we managed to put him in this table with this pump. And as of today, he filled up 10 tanks of 100 liters or 26 gallons. Tony:WOW !! But how has it happened ? Seb: We don't know… All we know is that these men were parasitized by a goop, it enters their cells and alters the whole body… Other than that we don't know much… Anyway let's meet the subject The door opened and Seb approached. seb: Hello sir, we would like infos on your whereabouts. The parasitized:Hmm~ Seb:What is your name The parasitized:No… Name… Goop transformed me Tony:...... Can you explain how you got this way ? The parasitized: The goop entered me… Then it took over my cells… Grew my muscles… Now i can't stop, i need to cum. Tony felt bad, the poor man could not be saved, the parasite was so strong he would never be a normal man again. The infected man moaned, the pump was pumping enormous amount of cum. The two scientists went back to the room and took notes. A rather muscular man came in. Seb: Who might you be ? Darren: The name's Darren sir, i came in order from the general, he wanted to meet you two to talk about the project with the parasitized. Both nodded and went out. They arrived and talked with the general for a few minutes. Until they heard a loud crash and screaming from a room, they ran to the room they were in. When the two scientists came near the parasitized man's room, they looked in fear, not only had the process of pumping been reversed so that cum was filling the man's balls but the pump was also filling his balls with more of the goop. They tried to stop the process but the infected man was losing it, he broke the restraints, roared, his balls turned black because of the goop filling his balls and were even bigger than before, the parasites were sloshing inside his balls. Seb:CODE BLACK, I REPEAT, CODE BLACK, THIS IS REAL, ONE OF THE INFECTED HAS BROKEN LOOSE, PLEASE GET OUT BEFORE THE LOCKDOWN ACTIVATES. Everyone started to flee, but Seb and Tony. Tony:What do we do ????? Seb:The only way to apprehend him is to let him throw his seed on someone, but considering the pumps seem to have been sabotaged with goop, he may be able to infect someone. Tony looked at the man who was punching the wall, he looked like he was in pure agony. Tony: I'm going Seb: What ?! NO YOU- Tony: I wanna give him something to cum in, I don't think a pump would've satisfied him forever, on the plus side, I'll have an impact on the lab and the research of these creatures. He started to get naked and opened the door. Tony:HEY ! You wanna empty yourself ? Go for me ! The parasitized man fell on all four, his look was feral, as if he would rip him apart, Tony went on all four, showing his ass, the man started to try and enter his ass, involuntarily letting some of the goop into Tony, he felt the parasite starting to assimilate already, welcoming it, Tony felt like it was right, the man entered his cock into his ass, Tony's body mutated, his muscles but mostly his ass grew, becoming a submissive type as the man entered his ass completly and started to wildly fuck him. Tony:Yes, please, fill me The parasitized man started to descend his body into Tony's, he could feel the man's abs and pecs. Suddenly the man roared and a flood of cum came out, Tony felt his belly swell and swell, he kept moaning as his belly started to lift him up, his ass sucked up the man's dick, making him cum even more. Tony's memories and thoughts became foggy as he no longer remembered anything, his thoughts having been replaced with sex and need to be fucked. The man came for hours until he was done, Tony's belly was the size of the entire room. The man licked Tony's neck and nibbled on it and from the look on his face, round 2 was not gonna be an option he could say no to. After a few days, the scientists reinforced the lab and locked the two parasitized men inside of the room. The man didn't need pumping anymore as Tony was the one who would take his dick and absorb the cum. Scientist: You ummm… Think he will ever become how he used to be ? Seb shook his head. Seb: No… He's long gone, he no longer remembers who he is, all he is now is but a mindless sex addict who's thirst for sex cannot be satiated. He watched as the two kept fucking, with Tony's belly swelling again. Seb: Now… About that Darren… You're telling me there are no files about him ?