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POP Part 4 [Thanks for your comments, friends. This chapter is very dark, but I’m eschewing content warnings to avoid spoilers. Think of it as a gay muscle Quentin Tarantino movie.] “Open up, armed police!” Detective Steve Carnitas yelled on the second-floor balcony of the seedy motel. Without waiting for a response, Detective Jonah Brick smashed the door in with a splintering kick. Carnitas covered his new partner while he leapt into the room with his Glock raised. A blond, enormous Double-DBag bodybuilder fell over a coffee table as he backed away in fright, glass smashing. The smaller, powerfully muscled perp with the chest tattoo paused only a moment before making a dash for the back door of the suite. “Runner!” “My specialty,” Brick said, and sprinted after the perp, crossing the front room in barely two strides. Carnitas gave the room a quick 360, noting the web camera, lights and laptop, then warned the dazed blond to stay put before following Brick through to the back. He found him gripping the railing of the back fire escape, triceps bulging as he peered down at the ground, where the perp was hopping the back fence. “He’s getting away!” Carnitas fumed. “Calm your tits, bro,” said Brick. Holstering his weapon, he jumped onto the railing with the agility of a cat, his iron thighs coiling like springs. A second later he leapt, flying over the fence like he had wings. He landed square on the perp in the neighboring parking lot, slamming him into the gravel. “Watch out, Brick he’s still dangerou—“ WHUD WHUD WHUD WHUD WHUD WHUD Brick’s muscled arms were a blur as he pounded six fists into the perps face. His body convulsed under the force of the blows and then laid still. “Huh.” Carnitas made his way back to the front room, where the six foot two, 350 lbs blond meathead was just getting to his feet. “It’s okay, you’re safe now, we got ‘im.” WHAMMO! Carnitas’ nose flattened under brass knuckles and he was knocked to the floor. “Mother. FUCKER!!” he swore. Blood streamed onto the cheap carpet as he got to all fours. The blond was already out the door. Steve got to his feet, shook his head once, and then barreled after him. On the front balcony he caught sight of the blond, already down the stairs, racing toward a black Chevy Silverado parked at the far end of the motel parking lot. “Freeze, asshole!” he bellowed, aiming his gun, but the man kept running. “Damn it!” Steve descended the stairs two at a time and then jumped halfway down into a running start, his size 18 police boots carving divots in the blacktop as he propelled his 450 lbs of muscle after the victim-turned-perp. The blond reached the truck and stuffed himself into the cab, but fumbled the keys with his right hand still in the knuckle-duster. Steve roared and his pants split over his 26” calves as he accelerated his sprint, charging the truck like a vengeful bull. The blond turned over the engine just as the huge detective slammed into the passenger side. His meteoric momentum cratered half the cab, and the meathead punk was buffeted by airbags as Steve ignored the pain in his shoulder and crossed in front of the disabled truck. His great, heaving breaths sprayed blood on the cracked windshield as he stared daggers at the erstwhile driver. “I give up! I give up!” the punk lied, promptly plowing another metallic fist into Steve’s eye as he approached the window. The blow knocked him back several steps, and volcanic rage bubbled up like lava from his thumping chest, adrenalizing his huge muscles. He took a hop-step forward and then jumped three feet in the air, landing an elbow drop on the cab that crushed it flat. The front tires detonated simultaneously with an explosive bang. “Fuck.” Carnitas slumped against the wreck, gulping breaths, his horse-sized heart racing from the unexpected cardio. He blew bubbles of blood out his nose, trying to control his respiration as two patrol cars screeched into the parking lot, coughing out Flint, Hamm and a couple of uniforms. Hamm took one look at Steve and hustled over with a first-aid kit. “Jeez, Carny, you’re bleeding like a rare steak at Ponderosa.” He slapped gauze pads on gashes on his left delt and right tricep and applied pressure. “You should see the other guy.” Steve’s voice was a kazoo as he tilted his head up and held his nose. “Help, I’m trapped!” piped up the muscle-punk from under the crushed metal. Lieutenant Marcus Flint’s muscular chestnut arms were bare, like his team’s backup call had caught him in the middle of his end-of-day workout. With a powerful yank he ripped off the mangled passenger-side door and peered in at the perp, his shoulders pinned to his knees by the caved-in roof. “What are you complaining about, boy? You get to suck your own dick while you’re down there.” Detective Brick approached with the other perp, holding him upside down by his ankles. Steve noted the perp’s physique looked much less impressive this close; his legs were skinnier than Brick’s brawny arms. “Okay, boys, make a wish!” Brick yanked the legs apart like a wishbone and the perp howled as something snapped in his pelvis. Urine streamed down his abs, streaking away parts of the “GONNA POP U BITCH” tattoo as Brick dumped him on his head. “Make up. Huh.” Steve groaned. “My bad, guys,” Hamm said sheepishly. “More cosplayers. Thought it was a good lead.” The piss-stained perp rolled onto his knees and wheezed: “Police brutality! I’m gonna sue!” Flint backhanded the punk so hard his head bounced off the asphalt, knocking him unconscious. “No one was talking to you, bitch,” he growled. “Goddamn it, when did perps get so spineless? In my days as a beat cop, they’d take their lumps like men.” “Preach, boss,” Brick agreed, his veiny biceps and triceps bulging as he ripped off his bulletproof vest and slung it over his shoulder. He patted the rippled abs visible through his gray police t-shirt. “But I’m fucking starving, can we eat while we debrief?” Steve raised his free hand. “Yes, please.” “I know just the place,” said Hamm. *** “Cosplayers my ass,” said Carnitas. “You ever see a ComicCon where the nerds walk around with brass knuckles? Those jerks were mob.” He destroyed half a chicken sandwich in one bite. “Fuck me that’s good,” he groaned. The four big policemen were crammed into a booth meant for six at Bad Brad’s Diner, Detective Tyler Hamm’s favorite place for after-hours grub. The 5’10” 300 lb musclebear brandished the bone of a turkey drumstick he’d just devoured like a chicken wing. “Makes sense. With all the dough the perp is making off the snuff vid. I could see ‘em wanting a piece of the action.” “Do we need to worry about real copycats?” asked Brick, licking the juice from his fingers after inhaling a 20 oz rib eye. “Maybe,” Steve talked around his next mouthful. “But I’m more concerned about our perp’s next victim. He promised us there’d be one.” He swallowed, wincing slightly from the pain of his busted nose. Lieutenant Flint reached crosswise across the table with his powerful arm and cradled Steve’s chin in his calloused brown hand. He turned his subordinate’s head to get a better look at his injuries. “You sure we shouldn’t have let the paramedics take you, son?” Steve smiled, his dick plumping at his virile mentor’s touch. “I’m right where I want to be, sir.” Brick reached around his thick traps and squeezed his delt. “You’re tougher than I took you for, bro.” “Total stud,” Hamm agreed, rubbing Steve’s forearm. Their waiter, a cute chubby musclecub, dropped off a tray piled with more food and a round of beers. “You guys are such a hot polycule. Let me know if you’re looking for a fifth. I’m game. And drinks are on me.” Flint raised an eyebrow as the youth sashayed back to the kitchen. “What’s a fucking polycule?” “You bring us to some kind of queer diner, Ham and Cheese?” said Brick. Hamm shrugged. “What can I say? They got great food, and ass for dessert.” He reached for a beer but Flint slapped away his hand. “After-work drinks are for after work, son.” “Fine, ‘Dad’.” “Where we at on the sex assault angle, Brick?” “Both Tinker and Crust were bred by the perp in the mouth and ass. Dr Stain confirms that the semen contained cuntofil, this new boner drug Steve got from his contact. And Stain also confirmed the obvious after sending away for special testing: both vics were on athenabol.” Steve continued: “Stain didn’t have much to say just yet about my theory that an interaction between Piledriver and Double-DBol made the vic’s muscles vulnerable somehow to poppin’. But he’ll look into it.” “Hmm.” Flint folded half a chicken breast in a waffle, and dipped it in gravy. He chewed thoughtfully. “And the suicide-by-pop angle?” “Crust wasn’t in much shape to be properly interviewed,” said Steve, “and the Bedlam shrinks didn’t allow us much time with him.” “But Tinker’s shrink released his file, under court order, and there’s some juicy bits there.” Brick flipped open his police notebook. “Longstanding depression and muscle dysmorphia, recently had a relapse following an incident at work at the supplement store. Got shown up by a new co-worker, smaller guy into the Steamroller exercise cult. Crushed him in armwrestling in front of his meathead friends. Dude was off work after that.” “That guy sounds like a real jerk. Could he be our perp?” Steve asked Hamm. “Still trying to get employment records from the store manager, but expect them this evening at the end of his shift. I’ll text you later if they come in.” Flint sat back, letting out a satisfied grunt and rubbing his belly as he checked his watch. “Speaking of Steamroller, we’re due for a check-in with the fifth of our poly-whatsit.” “And look at that, he’s right on time for once in his life.” Hamm’s phone lit up with a contact photo of spread buttcheeks covered in downy blond fuzz, with a pale pink pucker. ‘My Asshole Partner’’ was superimposed above the image in white font. “What the fuck, Tyler?” “Bit of an in-joke, boss. But that’s really him, if you care to know,” said Hamm. “I really, really didn’t. Answer the damn call.” Hamm balanced his phone on the napkin holder and the four men leaned in to see Garrett Shaw’s face appear on the screen. In the background was the coppery brush of a pine forest floor. “How goes the undercover mission, Detective?” “Hey boss-man, you out on the town with these losers? Sorry to say, you ain’t gonna pick up any chicks hanging out with faggots.” “I’m married, Shaw. And watch your fucking language.” “I’m not gay,” Brick protested. “Won’t be long, New Meat, no one can resist Stevie’s seductive charms for long.” “Focus, Shaw, report.” “Alright, alright.” He pulled the camera back to show he was surrounded by trees. “Had to hide my phone way out here. No tech allowed at Camp Steamroller. Real Iron John shit.” “Any sign of the perp?” Carnitas asked. “Hey Stevie! Blocking with your face again? I thought we talked about this?” “Garrett…” “No man, no sign of that tatt, and since all the invitees to this retreat are required to walk around in these Tarzan loincloths, I got more than an eyeful of all the participants.” “Damn it,” Flint fumed. “Well get your ass back here then, and we’ll work on the other leads.” “Not so fast, boss, it hasn’t been a total loss. The tattoo shop confirmed they did the ‘pop’ tatt for a dude last name Stark, and that’s the name of the Head Hippy here, a longhair named Calvin Stark. He doesn’t have any tatts and he’s too old to be the perp, but he’s got two sons, neither of whom are here.” “Okay, can you get close to this honcho? Find out more?” “Unlikely. He leads the occasional meditation session, but otherwise keeps to a tightly controlled inner camp. But, I did find out one juicy bit of gossip about him. He’s a former Double-DBag, and he takes a special interest in converting DBags to the cause. So I was thinking…” As Shaw paused, all eyes at the table swung in Carnitas’ direction. “What the hell, guys? No way.” He flushed crimson. “It would completely be your choice, Steve. I’m not gonna order you,” said Flint. “And I don’t need to know anything about your personal life that you don’t want to share. God knows there’s enough oversharing in this group.” “I appreciate that, boss, but it’s still a no. Garrett joined Steamroller before the murder, he still makes the most sense to be undercover with them.” “That’s settled, then. Anything else to note, Shaw?” “Just this, fellas: This shit really works. You remember my head scissors, Hammy?” “Yes. And I don’t want to talk about it.” “Well watch this.” Shaw flipped the camera to show he had his bare muscular legs wrapped around a tree trunk, and had been suspending his ripped body horizontally during the whole conversation. “Used to do these static hanging crunches on my heavy bag, thought I’d try ‘em on the closest thing. I know it’s hard for you ladies to pull your eyes away from my abs, but check out the quads.” The muscles flexed into banded steel and the bark underneath was instantly pulverized. Shaw let out a rumbly growl and his quads hacked deeper, pale splinters erupting where the wood was displaced by harder muscle. In seconds Shaw’s thigh-grip had gnawed half the tree away. “Just the corewood left,” he grunted, “gonna lock my ankles now.” “Shaw,” Flint said curtly, “have you ever cut down a tree? You gotta be careful which way it falls—” KRAKKKKK! “That’s right tree-bitch, take that—OH SHIT—“ The camera tumbled to the dirt and went dead. Flint hung his head in disbelief. “I really hope it fell on his stupid head,” said Brick. “You can’t kill that dude. He’s like a cockroach,” said Hamm. Flint fumed. “What’s the first rule of undercover work? Don’t draw attention to yourself. Damnit.” “Please, boss,” Carnitas begged, his head throbbing, “can we drink now?” “Fine, I’ll leave you boys to it. I got a workout to finish.” *** Steve stumbled as he climbed the front steps of his walk-up apartment building. “Straight to bed, big guy,” Jonah Brick yelled from his Camaro before peeling off into the night. Steve got out his keys just as a PING sounded on his WhatsApp: <Tyler Hamm has renamed the group chat to: What’s a Fucking Polycule?> Hey studs, employment records from Tinker’s manager came in. Enjoy some bedtime reading. Steve opened the pdf and squinted, focussing on the hire dates. He nearly dropped the phone when he saw the name of the late Peter Tinker’s most recent co-worker. “THAT goddamn motherfucker?!” *** Carnitas barged in the door the moment it opened, the chain lock snapping, no match for his 450 lbs of bulk. “What the fuck, man! YOU!!” The surprised occupant, barefoot and clad in a loose t-shirt and sweats, backed away, hands up, as the huge detective advanced into the apartment, gun drawn. “Vinny fucking Crisco, you goddamn weasel. What bleeding-heart parole board let a shitstain like you back on the streets?” “You’re fucking nuts, Carnitas. I did my time. You got no cause to be busting in here.” “We’ll see about that. Back all the way up.” The small dark-haired man complied, with a calm backward stroll, all while his jet-black eyes burned with hatred. Carnitas’ gaze darted about the small bachelor space, confirming they were alone. There were some carpentry tools in one corner, and some newly installed drywall, but no guns or knives obvious. “Now a little bird told me,” he said, “that you’d gone and got yourself a job at a sports nutrition store. But I said to myself, that can’t be true. Pencil-necked Vinny Crisco? He wouldn’t know a sport, or a nutrient, if it bit him on his bony ass.” “What’s it to you, fatboy?” He gestured to the cop’s face. “You lose a fight, and go looking for the smallest ex-con you know to rough up?” “You always were a little shit, Vinny. Felt so good to put your ass away. But we’re gonna have a little talk.” “Felt good did it? Not as good as you hoped, though right? I didn’t give up my brothers, so all you got was me. That still stick in your craw, birdbrain? Your big mob case, years of work, and all you bagged was a low level thug? A big flop like that, could rattle a guy, make him insecure.” “Shut up, asshole.” “Make up your mind, dumbass. Should I talk or shut up? I really do got you rattled, huh? Why else would you need a gun for this little chat? You’re three times my size, bro.” Carnitas stomach turned as his confidence faltered. He’d underestimated Vinny Crisco once before, and he had an instinct that he was repeating himself. He was alone, no back up, no warrant, drunk and with a probable concussion, facing a cunning ex-mob enforcer. He couldn’t be the murderer, his complexion was too dark and he was whippet-lean. But something was very wrong. Steve felt in his bones that if he made a single mistake, Vinny would get the upper hand. “Fuck you, dirtbag. Raise those hands higher.” Crisco smirked, but complied, and the motion of his arms raised the hem of his t-shirt exposing ripped lower abs, a dark treasure trail and the top of a hairy bush as thick as a Sicilian olive grove. Too late, Carnitas realized he’d stared a beat too long. When he looked up again, a claw hammer flung from across the room bashed him between the eyes. He dropped to the floor like a stone, holding his battered face in agony. When he opened his watering eyes he registered the frightful image of Crisco looking down on him with an evil sneer. “Fuck me? You dumb bitch, I got a much better idea.” Vinny brandished a muscular bare foot like it was a maul and swung it in a baleful arc, stomping Steve’s lights out. … … … “PSST. FAGGOT. WAKE UP.” Detective Carnitas opened his eyes to find the murderer’s face staring back at him. The details of the face were obscured by Peter Tinker’s blood and lumps of gore, except for a brilliant white sadistic grin of even teeth with wolfish canines. His eager pale blue eyes pinned Steve’s soul in place like a butterfly. “YOU’RE GETTING CLOSER, FAGGOT, MAYBE I’LL SEE YOU SOON.” One side of his face was pressed flush against a hardwood floor. Little streaks of red formed there as his head rocked back and forth in a repetitive motion. “BUT YOU SHOULD WAKE UP NOW, FAGGOT. YOU’RE BEING RAPED. YOU DON’T WANT TO MISS THAT. HUH-HUH-HUH.” The face faded away, replaced by Carnitas’ own battered visage. He lay prone and gagged on the floor staring sideways at himself in the bottom of a cheap dressing mirror propped against the wall. He took an inventory of his wounds. Busted nose. Black eye. Lacerated, bleeding brow. Torn upper lip and broken front teeth. A catalog of failures. But each was easier to contemplate than what was happening down below, beyond the view of the mirror, as Vinny Crisco jackhammered his ass to smithereens. Everything down there was agony, from the popped sphincters in his destroyed hole, to his pride-and-joy boulder glutes, bashed into gravel against harder muscle and bone, to his cock and balls, flattened under his own dead weight. Crisco gasped and groaned as he came like a geyser, his mallet-like fists pounding the cop’s thick traps flat like carpaccio. His rectum ballooned under the pressure of the massive load exploding out of the thug’s Piledriver-swollen cock, magnifying the intense pain of the brutal fucking. Vinny stood once his cum-fits had subsided, his softening cock shlooping out of the cavernous gape, and with a sharp kick to his side, flipped the detective onto his back. The Mafioso cackled with glee when he saw the mess on the floor. His pinpoint accurate battering of the cop’s prostate had forced blood-tinged cum from Steve’s perfidious dick. “Man, Carnitas, I knew you were a huge fag, but pink spunk? That's next level.” He straddled the cop’s limp body with lean legs as strong as girders, and reached down to pull out the gag, a gym sock so dirty it was nearly black. “Don’t need this, huh? I mean, it’s not like an enormous badass muscle-cop would scream for help like a little bitch, right?” Carnitas focussed his eyesight as a wave of nausea from his tortured bowel ebbed. The body that loomed over him was no Colossus. Crisco had the same bird-like bone structure he’d always had, and plainly weighed no more than 150 lbs. But that body had been honed on a Steamroller whetstone til it was keen as a dagger. Muscles braided like steel wire criss-crossed his torso and arms. His abs were so crisp they looked beveled like cut diamonds. And that sadistic cock. As Steve felt his bruised muscles swell tight, skin stretching from the effects of the Piledriver-laced splooge, Crisco’s penis re-inflated in sync, ‘til it was thicker than both of the thug’s lean forearms put together. “Ready for round two, faggot?” “Help!! He’s going to kill me!!” Steve bawled as Vinny compressed his bloated calves in his claw-like hands, stretch marks zigzagging the flesh as he raised his legs. The ropey muscles of his corded arms hauled up the massive shanks of meat with ease, like he had pulleys spinning in his joints. He lined his softball-sized cockhead up with Steve’s still-spasming gape, and sniggered at the cop’s pathetic mewling. “Man, he said this drug was the shit, but I didn’t believe him.” “Who’s… ‘he’?” “He also said Tinker-Toy popped like a balloon. Didn’t believe that either ‘til I saw the vid.” “WHO’S ‘HE’?!” Carnitas screamed. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he laughed. “Never thought I’d christen my new rape-pad with man-pussy, but your faggy high-pitched cries should test the soundproofing just as well as a bitch’s. Squeal as loud as you want, pig, this place is airtight.” “Not if you leave the door open.” Jonah Brick’s meaty hand clapped around the rapist’s neck. His thick fingers tightened around his throat like a hangman’s noose as he raised Crisco in the air, his feet kicking helplessly. “You got two seconds to give me a name,” Brick growled. He looked down on Steve’s swollen, broken form. “And I don’t even care if you answer.” “SSSSSSSSSSSSSStark—“ Vinny gasped, the gurgled word cut off abruptly by Brick shattering his larynx with his fingertips. The belly of his forearm bulged with crushing strength as, red-faced with rage, he macerated tissue and ground vertebrae to dust. Digging his thumbnail into the pulped flesh at the base of the rapist’s skull, Jonah flicked, popping Vinny Crisco’s head off his neck like a bottlecap. … Steve’s leaden limbs collapsed the moment he crossed the threshold of his apartment. From the floor, he kicked the door shut with his foot. “Made it,” he mumbled, as if Brick could hear him. “You gotta leave now, Steve, under your own steam,” his partner had urged as he’d cut the zip tie bonds at his wrists. “I gotta take out the trash.” Somehow Steve had managed to pull his clothes onto his ravaged body and stand while Brick rolled Crisco’s body up in a Persian rug. As he’d turned for the door, Brick had grabbed his arm. “Hey. Remember one thing. This was not your fault.” “Bullshit,” Steve said now as he pressed himself up onto his elbows. Slowly, he dragged his beaten carcass toward the bathroom. Pulling himself to his feet, he lurched in, avoiding his bloody reflection in the mirror. He snatched up a small leather case. With a great, wracking sob, he turned it inside out, dumping his vials of athenabol into the toilet bowl. He sat heavily on the lid as the toilet flushed, and pulled out his phone, opening Garrett Shaw’s contact. Camp Steamroller, he texted, I’m in. To be continued…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 3: After we had fucked another two times, Frank and I rinsed off, then walked to the cafeteria. The other students were beginning to pour in after winter break, and the campus was abuzz with activity. Frank was wearing super-tight grey sweatpants, an even tighter XXL bodybuilder tshirt, and a black baseball cap. It looked like his clothes were about to rip. You could see every detail of his body in perfect definition, from his bubble butt to his nipples down to the head of his massive cock. He waddled into the dining hall. I walked beside him, self-conscious to even be seen with this muscle freak who towered over me. We looked like different species. This was the first time we had ever hung out together outside of our dorm. Sure, I'd bump into him occasionally on campus. He'd always be with some other hulking member of the football team. He would give me a wink, a bro-y nod, or a fist bump. ("Who's that?" I'd hear some hunky, 250-pound teammate asking as I walked away. "My roommate.") Apparently, Frank's rule on being seen with me had changed -- or the rule had never existed. I'm sure I looked strange standing next to him: a good six inches shorter, more than 200 pounds lighter, and unable to take my eyes off his bulging, twitching muscles. I soon realized it didn't matter. Frank drew so much attention, I may as well have been a ghost. The instant people noticed Frank, they went silent. Their minds were clearly blown. A nerdy freshman dropped his tray of food loudly, making a huge mess. We got in line, Frank ravenous and thinking only of his macros — not on the dozens of eyes watching him in disbelief. Without looking, Frank walked forward and bumped into a geeky, 5’7” sophomore boy in front of him. (Frank hadn’t noticed how nervous the boy was to be right in front of a muscle monster three times heavier than himself — though I had, of course.) As they collided, the kid’s head rammed right into Frank’s pecs (his single most oversized muscle group). The poor, closeted nerd stumbled back in a daze, his glasses askew. “Whoops. Sorry bro,” said Frank, looking down nearly a foot -- past his pec shelf -- to the nerd’s face. Frank was unfazed, not realizing he had given the skinny kid a memory he’d probably be jerking off to for years to come. I saw the nerd’s hands shaking as he reached for tongs. I watched Frank pile 12 chicken breasts, 10 hamburger patties, and two pounds of brown rice, and two cups broccoli onto his tray. His enormous hands made the tongs look ridiculous — like doll cutlery. The Mexican lunch ladies stared in disbelief; they barely came up to the middle of Frank's abs. I also noticed a group of jocks staring at Frank. "Holy FUCK, look at the size of him," one said. "You think that's steroids?" another one asked. "C'mon man, of course it is." “Yeah, look at those shoulders man.” "Dude, what the fuck, you can totally see his dick." (Frank, focused on heaping meat onto his tray, caught none of this.) You could see the fear in everyone's eyes as Frank carried his 10-pound meal into the dining room. I was nervous he'd see someone he knew, and I'd have to talk to one of his toxically masculine football jock friends. Fortunately, though, we sat down at a table alone. The bench screeched like it might break. Every table around us went silent. You could sense the other people trying to stare and eavesdrop inconspicuously. When he sat down, Frank's sweatpants couldn't contain his Mr. Universe-sized ass, which was left half-exposed in his white jockstrap. I'm not talking about a little crack. I mean a good 50% of his hairy bubble butt was fully on display. He didn't realize this, of course. I also noticed that his bright white shirt was starting to tear, right down the center of his back, revealing the slightly hairy traps underneath. Frank immediately began to devour his meal. Not like a pig -- more like a robot with a job to do. I had thought he might be stockpiling chicken and beef for later. Nope, I realized, he was going to eat this all in one sitting. Occasionally, he took a break from chewing to drink a swig of water. Otherwise he didn't say anything and barely looked up from his fuel. It struck me how even now, freshly showered and fully clothed, Frank’s musk was intense. "Frank, you might need to buy some bigger clothes," I said. "You think so?" he said, still chewing. "Well your shirt is starting to tear a little." "Ah fuck, I just bought this. Brand new. Biggest size they make." He kept chewing. "The thing is," Frank continued,"I've been bulking for a while. Was thinking of cutting soon. Maybe down to 350.” "I don't think you have much to cut. You have eight-pack abs." "Hmm." Frank pulled up his white shirt over his balloon-like pecs, his hairy nipples pointing straight down. His hairy, olive-skinned, washboard abs were revealed in all their perfection -- engorged as he was with food. You could feel the entire room's rapt attention on him. He counted his abs. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6..." (flexing) "7, 8. I guess you're right." Frank resumed eating wordlessly. He didn't realize -- or didn't care -- that his shirt was still rolled up over his pec shelf. Eventually the shirt fell back and covered most of his torso again -- to my relief, because I was self-conscious about the erection throbbing in my pants. After 20 minutes, Frank's plate was clean. Not even a grain of rice remained. "Fuuuck, I'm actually full," he said. He reclined back in the chair, stretched his 24-inch arms over his head in a relaxed way, like he had just finished a Sunday crossword. Then he casually popped a double bicep, just for a second, for me to see. The sharp peaks still astonished me. Then, for the first time since we had sat down, he actually looked me in the eyes. A moment passed. He didn't say anything, but his face was going a little red. I felt self-conscious until I realized that he was looking at ME with longing. Me?! "Um, James," he said, going even redder. "We might have a little problem." His eyes darted down to his own lap. I pretended to look for something under the table, and looked at Frank's crotch, where a throbbing, 10.5-inch erection was already forming a dark circle of pre-cum in his grey sweatpants. The shaft jolted out so far that it was half exposed. It could not have been more conspicuous or obscene. Every eye in the brightly lit dining hall was already on Frank. How were we gonna get him out of here? "Uh oh..." "Fuck," Frank said. "What are we gonna do?" I could tell he was really worried, but his tren-fueled lust was even more powerful. He was wheezing in the characteristic way he always did when he was horned up. He had no way to calm down his cock. "I have an idea." I picked up my tray like I was about to clear it, then deliberately spilt a full glass of soda and ice right onto his lap. The ice-water temporarily shrunk his hard-on into a mere 8-inch semi -- and it also hid the pre-cum stain on his grey sweats. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, dude!" I said. Frank acted upset, but I could see his relief. Although the "accident' drew even more attention on Frank than before, and his porn-star cock was more or less discernible in the wet sweatpants, he was able to escape the dining hall without a full-blown scandal. We got back to our cum-splattered dorm room and Frank more than repaid me for my savoir-faire. We fucked for hours. I came three times: once in his ass, once in his mouth, and once more in the crevasse of his swollen, furry pecs. — Afterwards, we lay in bed together cuddling. I squeezed my Incredible Hulk, nestled my face in his pits. “Mind shooting me up?” Frank asked. I was startled by how deep his voice sounded, but not by the request. I knew the drill. I would inject a dose of steroids into his right glute. At first, I had been shocked by this. Now I was used to the ritual, an expert at injecting gear. I was even a little turned on. “Sure, no problem.” “Hey James?” Frank asked, towering behind me, totally naked. Sticky, dried cum was splattered all over his body. The smell of his musk filled my nostrils. “What?” “Um. Never mind.” “No, what is it?” “You ever thought about doing some?” “Steroids?” “Yeah.” I paused. I really hadn’t. “To be honest, no.” “I was just thinking about how you’d look…If you put on about 70 pounds of muscle…You’re 5’9? I could juice you up to 230, 240 pounds in a year or so… The way you’re built, you’d pack on mass so quickly…Fuck…James…Oh my god bro…” I’d never seen Frank’s dick get hard so fast. Flaccid to hard in three seconds. It flew up perpendicular to his grotesquely swollen quads. His eyes were a little crazy as he looked down at me, fantasizing and scheming. He was wheezing again. “Picture us both all roided out,” he said, stroking his cock. “Posted up in here sophomore year, getting bigger and bigger. Horny all the time. Eating, lifting and fucking nonstop… both of us putting on 5 pounds of muscle every week…Picture how fucking hot you’re gonna look. How hot we’ll both look..holy shit… oh my god dude…” He blew a load all over the carpet. One of the biggest I had ever seen. My mind reeled at the dream he had shared, at how much it had turned him on — and turned ME on. I was just 18, and Frank was such a fucking beast it had never before occurred to me I could be anything like him, not until that moment. Despite my many misgivings about steroids, he had convinced me. I was now under his thrall, obsessed with muscle growth at all costs. That was the night my bodybuilding journey began.

Ever since he had hit puberty, Hank had been an alpha. His dad got him into lifting weights when he was twelve, and his strength and size took off. By the time he was 15, he had a 48” chest and was benching 405. He swaggered around school like he was a god, which is exactly how he felt, and how most of the kids treated him. His swollen ego was also fed by the fact that his dad was a very wealthy pig farmer, who also owned half the county and a ton of real estate in Atlanta. By the time he was 17, the assistant football coach was sick of the hillbilly rich boy attitude, and decided to teach the him a lesson. The coach was a beefy bruiser, who had once been a competitive arm wrestler of some renown. So one day, in front of the whole team, he challenged Hank to a friendly match. Hank had never arm wrestled before, but he just shrugged and said, “Sure, whatever.” Unfortunately for the 35 year old coach, his strength was no match for the jacked up teen. Hank beat him with such ease, they were both surprised. Down went the coach’s right hand, bam, to the table. Delight spread across Hank’s face, and he slowly stripped off his shirt. “Jeezus,” muttered the coach. He’d seen a lot of jocks in his time, but never one that looked chiseled out of Georgia granite. “Again,” said Hank, putting his arm back up. He’d just finished doing 100lb dumbbell curls, and his upper arm bunched up like a melon. The coach couldn’t back down now. He reluctantly put his hand into Hank’s. Then BAM, down went his arm, even harder this time. “Gawd dammm, this is fun!” crowed Hank. “Now the left arm,” he said eagerly, flexing his arm and kissing the peak before softly setting his elbow on the table, a big smirk on his face. They matched up again and went. Hank wrenched the coach’s wrist till it made a crackling sound, then slammed him to the table. He laughed in the coach’s face. “Little pussy,” he sneered, then he flexed his solid 18” farmboy arms. “Little fuckin’ pussy.” The coach went red-faced with humiliation, and slunk away. The next day, as news spread thru the school of Hank’s total domination, the coach submitted his resignation. After that, Hank got into arm wrestling in a big way. At first, he just showed up to every local competition he could find. Many of them were at dive bars, where he was already built better than any of the bouncers. Between his swagger and the musk coming off his imposing physique, it was easy for him to steal their girlfriends, and he loved doing it. Sometimes two or three a night. Every step of the way, he got better and bigger and stronger, secretly aided by the hormones that his pa had been feeding him since he was fourteen. The same ones Pa fed to his most prized hogs, some of which were now over 750lbs of musclebound pork. Hank jerked off to the thought of getting that fucking massed up, and it fueled his ego, his feelings of superiority, until by the time he was 22, he had become the swaggering dickhead that had sat down with Kurt for an interview. Now, at the barn, everything had been turned upside down for Hank. Sam and Kurt used his ass as their own personal cum bucket, trading him off like a toy, and he loved every second of it. He couldn’t believe how much he loved being plowed, especially by Kurt. He ached for Kurt’s huge member to turn his big squared-off boulder of an ass into prime pussy. They had taken him back to his hotel to get his stash of pills and gear, and he moved into the barn, sleeping in the hayloft, just like he used to do back on the pig farm. Kurt had started him on the herbal shakes, and within two weeks, Hank was up to 249lbs of strapping redneck muscle. The three of them lifted together every day, and when Sam and Kurt went to work, Hank lifted some more. He lifted until he was so bloated that he felt like his skin was going to split. All the gear pulsing thru him was making him grow broader and thicker. His bulging forearms pumped almost big as his bi’s. When he looked in the mirror he saw what his opponents were going to be seeing at his next competition. “Aw, yeah,” he thought with a cocky smirk. “Fuckin’ losers are gonna piss themselves.” When he imagined himself snapping arms like twigs, he spewed all over the mirror.

Here is a new story from a friend featuring one of my favorite subjects. Big muscle daddies . I'd been talking about a story like this with my friend and they decided to write a story on it. Just to be clear, this is not an incest story. And it follows in a similar genre as my Elongro and Performance Incentive stories. So there may be elements of domination, humiliation, cucking, etc. Again, just to be clear, I did not write this, but was given permission by the author to share it here. Enjoy! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Chapter 1 - Dr. Tait Holden, MD, Ph.D. sat in his office at 345 Park Avenue Manhattan dictating another report. It had been an exhausting few months. Since he attended the college football championship game in January there had only been a few days that he had been home. Travel all over the nation, living in hotel after hotel after hotel. Dozens upon dozens of days long interviews with clients. Just as many or more consultant meetings and video conferences each week. Having to attend gladhand receptions and dinners with the more hands-on owners when he would much rather have been home. But the end of the yearly ritual was within sight. It was now early May. He was back in his Manhattan loft full time, and, at last, the busiest part of his work year was almost over. That was not to say Tait actually liked New York City. It was just a necessary evil. At least the Spring weather was nice here. He just had too much Nebraska in him to ever feel comfortable in a two bedroom - two bath top floor loft in Chelsea that he bought strictly for its vaulted ceilings or in a suit in the corporate offices. In fact, he often mused about the size of the mansion he could have bought back in Omaha for what he spent on 1200 square feet here. But, as much as he did not like Manhattan, at least he wasn’t always on an airplane living out of a suitcase. He could get some fresh air on the roof of his building after his morning run with a cup of coffee and a quick hot tub boil to relax his quads and calves before work. Cramped, crowded subway commutes were never fun for him, but having his own kitchen each night made sticking to his new workout and gym goals much easier. Those had been KILLER to maintain on the road to be sure. But, he never turned down a challenge. Besides, he thought he had progressed quite nicely on those goals over travel season, all things considered. Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of reports and these meetings and he would finally be able to close the Chelsea loft for the summer and take some vacation time at his Montana cabin. In the remote wilderness with just himself, the animals, and his private gym, he could really focus on his training undisturbed until fall. Sure there would be some work between the first day of training camp and week one, but that would be the exception, not the rule. Tait was reciting long lines of dry medical jargon into his headset, when an unexpected buzz brought him out of his notes. He pressed pause on the mic control, and the main switchboard operator’s voice sounded. “Doctor Holden. Sean Foley from the PGA is on 7-2788 for you.” Tait smiled to himself as he told the operator to transfer the call to him. Sean was one of the best professional golf coaches on the planet, counting players the likes of Tiger Woods and Justin Rose among his clients. Getting this type of call would be unheard of for most doctors, but for Tait, it was run of the mill. He was, after all, one of the preeminent sports psychiatrists/psychologists in the United States. Tait flipped another switch on his mic to change from the computer dictation program to the phone lines, and a button on his desk phone connected the call. “Sean. It’s been quite a while. How are you man?” “I’m good, Tait. Covid took a toll on business, but what didn’t it take a toll on. How are you?” the man replied. “Trust me, I understand that. As for me - rough part of my season winding down and craving a vacation,” Tait said. “So, what can I do for you? You finally want to cash in that favor I owe you? If so, I know this perfect spot just off the coast of Miami. Private island, warm–” The voice on the phone quipped. “No way. Having you on the hook for a favor is too valuable to give up on just anything.” Then the voice became earnest. “Listen, Tait, this is - rather personal. Well, more personal for you I dare say. I don’t know if it is my business to tell you or if you already know. But you're a friend, and I have to say something. “Something is very wrong, Tait. Have you talked to Kane lately?” Tait’s jovial mood changed instantly. “Not for months, Sean. Between the rush for the draft and - well - you know - Kane being Kane. Thought it best to give him some space and let him call me. What's –” The voice interrupted. “That fits, Tait. But this is different. Fuck, Tait. I'm worried. Let me explain.” *** In Mountain View, California, a twenty-five year old man sat watching the sun rise in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood in which anyone could be happy. Except that the young man wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy for months. Not since that day at the gym. Since then, even his fiancé, who at one time made him unconsciously smile just being in her presence, couldn't rouse him from his preoccupied doldrums. It all started after that guy – no, he couldn't face it. It was too – Suddenly, his cellphone rang. The iPhone played a ringtone he had not heard in ages - Ozzy Osborne's “Patient Number 9.” The young man literally groaned as he picked up the phone to see *RESTRICTED NUMBER* as the caller. That ringtone was no accident then… Why now? He thought. Why now? Of all people on earth. With what happened, why him? The universe must hate me…. But the young man knew there was no way to ignore the call or the caller. No way to resist the inevitable. No one ever resisted this caller. Not in all the years he had known him. It was like trying to resist the gravity of a black hole. The only way to avoid it was to go around it and never interact with it. But now, he had to. The young man took a long breath and blew it out. Time to face reality. He clicked on the answer icon. “Hi Dad.” “Hi, Son. How are you?” a deep voice replied from the box. “OK. Just the usual,” the young man lied. “What’s up?” “I'm going to be flying into San Francisco tomorrow night and staying all next week. I would like to speak with you and meet Lacey while I am there. I know it is kind of hard for you to bring the girl home to “meet the parents” so to speak. But while I’m there, I thought it might be a good time. It is way past time I met my future daughter-in-law. “Are you both available for lunch Thursday? Say Hog Island Oyster Company at 12:30? It's a bit of overkill I know, but I want to make a good first impression on my new family. And I really want to see how you are. My treat, of course.” Oh fuck, the young man thought. Not just interacting but flying straight into orbit of the black hole. Then, he calmed a bit. Dad has to meet Lacey sometime though. Maybe it can just be lunch if he is working. I hope so. I can't be exposed to hi- The young man banished the thought he was about to have before he fully had it. It was too creepy to ever contemplate. It was wrong too. But it came again. And again. And again… The young man tried to clear his head. He yelled out so that it could be heard by the deep voiced man. “Lacey, do you have time Thursday afternoon for lunch? Dad is on the phone.” In response, a beautiful young woman came around the hallway from the bedroom into the living room. Her face was beaming at the prospect. Their marriage will become much more real after finally meeting her future father-in-law in person. She immediately agreed. “Lacey said it’s fine Dad, so I guess so.” “Great. I am staying at the Four Seasons for work. So, I will meet you both at the restaurant. Just ask for my reservation. I am really looking forward to it, Son. It has been far too long.” As the phone disconnected, the two men on opposite ends of the country - and from the same but opposite worlds - each breathed a sigh. In New York, Tait hated lying to his son. He could count on one hand how many times he had, and some of those had been misdirections about Christmas presents. He had finished in California weeks ago. But something was wrong, and his son needed him. In California, Kane Holden's stomach tied into a knot. He loved his dad, but his father was more of a force of nature than a man. Tait Holden was… His god of a father was coming. And after the dude at the gym, the universe really did hate him. *** When Kyle and Barbara Holden welcomed their fifth child and last child - their first son after four daughters - into the world in 1978 it was a dream come true. Every man dreams of having a son, and that was especially true of the Nebraska cattle rancher. He was not only from a long line of cattlemen, but also a long line of athletes. He himself had been a full scholarship O-line player at the University of Nebraska. His brother had been on the 1968 Olympic wrestling team. And before he settled onto his own ranch, his father had played for twelve seasons with the Phillies and the Dodgers through the 1950’s. His father’s two World Series rings sat proudly in the office at his ranch to that very day. But, at that moment in Creighton Memorial St. Joseph’s Hospital, no one grasped that the infant they named after his two grandpa’s, Tait Michael Holden, would tower over every accomplishment anyone in their families ever had. From the start, it was obvious that Tait was a special baby. First sign was that he was big for a newborn, being 8 pounds 12 ounces. But that big baby would only become BIGGER. Beyond that, Tait was speaking basic sentences at a year old. Reading basic stories at 3. When most little guys were only interested in Sesame Street or GI Joe cartoons, Tait was voraciously learning anything, showing a curiosity in everything from the classroom to snakes and prairie dogs on the ranch to how the cattle were managed for market. By the age of 12, Tait had raised and sold his first steer after winning first place with him at the State Fair. And then another, and then two, and then four. By the time he had graduated high school, Tait had well over eighty thousand dollars in savings from selling his Fair animals and prize money. Tait would have been an incredible rancher if that had been his destiny - but his academic and farm accomplishments were mirrored by his physicality and sports performance. Like all the Holden men, Tait inherited tremendous physical and athletic potential, and in Nebraska countryside tradition, Kyle started his son playing flag football as soon as he was of age. Tait took to the sport like a duck to water. By the time he was a high school freshman, Tait was already playing varsity as a hulking 6’4” terror of a tight end. At high school graduation, he had won every football award possible for high schoolers in the state of Nebraska and more individual player awards than any athlete in Nebraska state history to that point. Of course, Tait was recruited by practically every single division one athletic program that had even the smallest hope of landing him. The only thing that disappointed Kyle at the end was his son’s final decision of where to commit. Instead of one of the highly visible national programs, Tait chose Stanford. He explained that he wanted to develop his mind as well as his football skills, just in case he were injured and couldn’t play and Stanford could certainly do that. Besides, he reasoned, no matter the team’s record, as long as he played his very best game and learned under legendary Stanford head coach Bill Walsh - the NFL scouts would come to him. And come they did as Tait became a once in a generation position player. When Tait’s body finally stopped growing, he was just a fraction under 6’9” tall, and the strength coaching and nutrition staff transformed him into a 315 pound gridiron titan. And it was by no means a flabby 300 pounds. Tait was obsessive in the gym and with diet, so much so that the layer of fat so many tall footballers had simply wasn't there. Tait’s genetics would have allowed him to become a pro bodybuilder if he was not a football player. His body and strikingly good looks made him into what would one day be called the poster child of “aesthetics.” Tait had a 61 inch chest, 22 inch biceps, with a wasp waist of 32 inches that was the same size as each quad. He looked to literally be carved from rock, more like a giant Frank Zane on the field than a Junior Seau. Of course, any college footballer who was 6’9” and more than 300 pounds was tried out on the line and Tait played magnificently there. But, his true skills were at tight end. His gigantic hands made it next to impossible for a quarterback to miss him when called upon to make a catch. And Tait was extremely good at making up for bad throws so that they still wound up in his mitts. His massive legs could push that body at incredible speed for his size, and compared to defensive secondary players who were 100 pounds lighter than him - trying to tackle him was like trying to stop a freight train. And when Tait was called on to make a block for a running back, those who were unfortunate enough to be targeted felt like they had been plowed over by a Union Pacific locomotive. The nickname stuck - so that when the “Freight Train” made a play, the Stanford student section would start chanting lyrics, singing along to a new song by Metallica that was first sung just a few miles away in San Francisco playing over the stadium speakers - No Leaf Clover - “Then it comes to be that the soothing light / At the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way / Here it comes.” Tait’s physical gifts were built right along with his mental skill on the field. Under Walsh and his position coaches, Tait had also become an incredible football mind. He absorbed every lesson Walsh and the coaches taught - from how plays unfold across the whole field, to how his own position operated in various schemes to how plays themselves were drawn, even how the players' workouts augmented play making. Tait employed these skills relentlessly. He might have been a freight train in one play but in the next he could work with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. That versatility made him almost impossible for opposing teams to defend against, Tait was one of the few players on the college level Walsh ever trusted to have the quarterback or center make audibles in an instant based on the defense. What generational greats like Peyton Manning was to Tennessee or Charles Woodson was to Michigan, Tait Holden was at Stanford. After four seasons, when Tait finally declared for the NFL draft, he was a Stanford team captain, a 4-time First Team Academic and on the field All-American. It was rumored that Tait was the inspiration for the creation of the Mackey Trophy to recognize the best tight end in college football since he never won a Heisman. Nevertheless, he was an easy top ten first round pick. Tait spent 8 years in the NFL during the 2000s, amassing 2 Superbowl rings, 7 consecutive selections for the pro bowl, and 4 first team all pro rankings. It was argued in NFL circles that if he had continued playing, he would have been tied with Jason Witten and Tony Gonzalez as the greatest tight ends of the modern NFL. He was definitely heading for the Hall of Fame. But, unexpectedly, at the age of 30, Tait retired from professional sports. The official reason Tait gave was that he wanted to make sure he maintained his health from possible injury or concussion disorder. CTE was becoming more and more popular in the discussion of player health and Tait was a massively hard tackler. But the real reason was very different. Social media barely existed at the end of Tait’s career, and at that time the press barely covered player families unless they were famous beforehand. No one ever spoke of the players' children. So, few outside his team and fewer true friend’s knew about Tait’s wife. Her name was Jess Walker. Tait met her at a party when he was a Stanford freshman. Next to Tait, she was tiny at 5’1” and 105 pounds. But she was perfect for her spot on the gymnastics team. And she had gotten involved in a new sport from a gymnastics coach in Santa Cruz that he called “Crossfit.” For the first time in his life, Tait was thunderstruck by a girl. He was awestruck that such a petite girl could be so fit and strong and do the things she could do. But it was every single conversation with Jess that pulled Tait in. He could just lie on a couch and hold her and talk with her for days on end it seemed. They soon began exclusive dating and became quite the item on campus. But, as sometimes happens, in their junior year, Jess retired from team sports as she was pregnant and soon gave birth to a baby boy - Matthew Kane Holden. Although Tait wasn't religious, he had been raised with salt of the earth, mid-western values. So his first inclination was to marry Jess, stop football, and go to work. But, both Jess and her parents would not hear of it. They refused to allow Tait to give up his career and his future, even with a child on the way. Eventually, Tait agreed, but he and his family would provide everything Jess and Kane needed while waiting for him to go to the NFL. The Holden's lived up to every word - with Jess completing an MBA while waiting. Finally, in Tait's second year in the League, he and Jess married in a tiny ceremony in the prairie church in Nebraska where his family had married for generations. Tait deeply loved Jess and his boy. Though his looks and body made him a virtual pin up model with the expected continual offers of sex when he was on the road with the team - and sometimes right in front of Jess - he was absolutely faithful to them. They seemed to be on the road to long term happiness. But then the phone call came - There had been an accident on the freeway. Jess’s petite body stood no chance in the force of the impact, and she had passed from her injuries. Luckily Kane had been with his grandparents so he was unharmed. But Jess was gone. He was widowed at 30 years old. Tait was devastated. He decided at that moment to do everything he could to provide family and stability for his son, and to not risk his body again. Tait retired from football less than a month later. And rather than live on his well-invested football money - he had been paid over 38 million dollars in his career which had already almost doubled through wise investment - or become a coach, Tait decided to use some of his money to go back to his alma mater - Stanford. Tait was easily accepted into Stanford Medical School, graduating as a single dad with an MD and a PhD in what was then a new and upcoming field called Sports Psychology. After four years of residency at The University of Pennsylvania, Tait became a licensed sports psychiatrist. He was specifically approached and accepted a job offer from the NFL corporate offices in New York. He was commissioned to begin a new mental health services division under the contract that had just been negotiated between the Player’s Union and the League. Tait provided psychological services to any team organization, from mental health seminars and how to develop mind-body connection to interviewing potential draft prospects for teams from a psychological perspective. When Tait made that call to Kane, he was 44 years old. He had gone on to become the manager of behavioral health practitioners for the League and an incredibly respected NFL representative. He showed favoritism to no one, not even his old coaches and teams and teammates. And, as a former player, he was in particularly high demand to supplement mental health services and team doctors. Through it all, Tait saw to any need his parents, sisters, and son had that they could not meet for themselves. Tait was the man his father and grandfather taught him to be - a man who takes care of his own, protects his own, and provides for his own. Physical Giant, Retired NFL All-Pro, MD from Stanford – Tait really was an Alpha male force of nature. Given the man he was, as soon as he got a hint that his son may be in trouble, Tait dropped everything and flew to San Francisco. *** Kane and Lacey walked into Hog Island Oyster Company about ten minutes before the reservation time. When they approached the maitre’d desk and asked for the Holden reservation, he looked at them rather judgmentally, said they did not take reservations, and then asked them for identification. Once the asswipe was satisfied, he gave them one last sneer and invited them to follow. They were not prepared for where they were going. Apparently the restaurant did take reservations - for Tait Holden. They were escorted to an entire section of reserved outdoor patio seating. In front of them stretched one of the most panoramic views of the San Francisco bay and the bay bridge that anyone could take in. Before they took their seats, they went to the edge of the pier to take in the sight. Of course, for all except the maitre’d, there was another view most of the males had taken in as much as they could. Kane didn’t have to look around to sense the eyes locked onto them - well her. Lacey. Kane was accustomed to it by now. It was something similar to the reaction his father received from women, a reaction he knew he would see and hear again soon enough. Part of him rather enjoyed the looks of envy directed at him. And part of him felt insanely self-conscious and inadequate, as those same looks that were awed by Lacey judged him to be totally lacking compared to the woman on his arm. Lacey Masters had it all. She was a 27 year old drop-dead beauty. Daughter of a Bank of America executive. She had competed twice for Ms. California, and the only thing that truly held her back from winning the title was her 5’6” stature. Like his parents, Kane met Lacey at Stanford, where she had been a cheerleader. Of course, she was just as stunning back in college as now, which cowed Kane. But, he also felt more than a little intimidated by her intellect. She was no stereotypical empty airhead. Lacey was a brilliant financial mind. Even if she had not been a banker's daughter and born to the work, her skills at winning in the markets singled her out as being an up and comer in the corporate world. She worked for the investment firm Dodge and Cox as an analyst and personal portfolio manager, already bringing in a very solid quarter million dollar salary before bonuses each year. She also had a fantastic personal portfolio that seemed to grow whenever the stock market bell rang. In every way, she was the proverbial catch. Then, there was the man beside her. In a way that no one could actually put a finger on, Kane Holden just didn't seem to match up. It wasn’t that Kane was bad looking, True, Lacey was dressed in a fantastic dress and heels that made her stand a couple inches taller than Kane, who in bare feet stood exactly the same height as Lacey. True, his father had the chiseled, rugged good looks of romance and cowboy western novel cover models. But, Kane was not bad looking at all. His features were softer. Kinder. He was what most girls in high school and college described over and over as “cute” - at those moments when those same girls were alone comparing the guys around them. While Lacey was closer to a 10, Kane was more of a 7 or 8. But he was not ugly by any stretch. It wasn't that Kane was lacking in any sort of lack of physical fitness. Sure, Kane had gained about ten pounds since college, but that didn’t mean that he had a full out dad bod or anything. Sure, while Lacey had her beauty queen looks and religiously worked out with weights and yoga, Kane was not exactly a slouch. He had inherited the Holden family athletic gene and had been a 5 year wrestler at Stanford. And now, he was pursuing his other sporting gift - golf. Kane had taken up golf in high school after wrestling season and discovered he had quite a knack for it. With great coaching, Kane had capitalized on that talent, having managed to secure a spot on the PGA tour two years prior. No one in their right mind would claim that a Stanford wrestler and a professional golfer was not successful. It was just that Kane had inherited his mother’s height and weight rather than his father’s - as Kane wrestled at the 141 pound weight class. And unlike his father’s gargantuan, ripped muscles when he was in college sports, Kane was again softer - even when he was in wrestling shape. Kane had lithe muscles and a hint of abs under his shirt rather than the etched, deep 8-pack of his father. Kane had succeeded in wrestling and golf as a good tactician, with flexibility, speed, and technique as allies - the skills of a gymnast that he had inherited from his mother. He just didn’t have the overwhelming physical power combined with tactics that his father had - or that Lacey had in her own more feminine way. And while just becoming a Stanford wrestler and pro golfer was successful, he was middle of the road in both. He was good… good enough. But, he was never going to win the way his Dad and wife did. Kane’s personality didn’t quite match Lacey, that was true. They seemed to be from the “opposites that attract” spectrum rather than being “birds of a feather.” Kane was reserved and somewhat introverted compared to Lacey’s extroverted nature. With his father being away so much as a pro footballer and later medical school and residency, child Kane became a pure “mama’s boy.” Thus, he was crushed when his mother passed. Tait had been as well, but he had an adult perspective that the ten year old Kane did not. Tait had engaged the best therapy possible for his son, of course. And the giant man had been nothing but loving and gentle with his son, sensing his quiet, reserved nature. As Kane was treated by many others in his life. To a fair share of women, that vulnerable side was seen as an endearing quality, again something they called “cute.” But, to others, especially certain males in the elite circles of academics and athletics and later business, Kane was a tempting target to use and step on. Except none ever wanted to face the wrath of Tait Holden or later the corporate power of the Masters. So they left Kane alone - most of them. Looks, physique, mind, attitude, personality. It wasn’t any of these single characteristics that made Kane not match. It was all of these things taken together. Kane was the embodiment of “one of these things is not like the others.” He shouldn’t have been. But, he was. And something deep inside him knew it. It was a feeling people could sense radiating from him. Preoccupation. Tentativeness. Withdrawal. Inadequacy. Good enough. That was Kane in a nutshell - good enough. Good enough - but not great. In any other life Kane has success people only dreamed of. But compared to the others he loved, he was totally outshined; but, he was good enough. As he and Lacey waited for water to be brought to their table, Kane was being swallowed by “good enough.” Kane was cute, vulnerable, had a scrappy puppy quality, and Lacey had come to love him for that and more. But – Tait Holden. He knew Tait Holden was quantum leaps beyond any man Lacey had ever met. Though Lacey was certainly accustomed to getting attention and getting hit upon and being a very strong, dominant woman - she had never been exposed to the quality and quantity of Alpha male Tait Holden in person brought to the table. Kane had no idea how she would react. He knew Lacey loved him. Or it certainly felt like it. But, he knew how his Dad affected women. He had seen it all his life. He knew Tait was no predator. He was no so called “Chad.” He never set out to seduce women. In fact, Tait had always been loyal and honorable toward his mother and any other woman as far as he knew. Stealing a woman away from another was just anathema to him. Before or after Jess death, he had never been part of the underground or above ground athlete culture for women and parties and sex. Tait considered that to be beneath him or any proper man. He had taught Kane that. And - Kane knew he carried the pain every widowed person did. He had seen it when his father had visited his mother’s grave. He still loved HER, even now. Kane thought maybe that was why he was still single. And yet… Kane knew what was coming, and it always inspired a feeling - dread. Kane felt awful about that. He felt so conflicted that he both loved and dreaded his father. His father was just… his father. No bravado, no pretend machismo, nothing at all unnatural for him. Tait was nothing but the archetypal Real Man, in every positive way. Tait had done nothing on purpose to inspire such dread in Kane. Yet, it was there, rolling in him - the feeling of being good enough under the glare of greatness. Then, there was another feeling the son had about his father - a wrong feeling Kane thought. The feeling had no name that Kane could attach to it. He buried it as much as he could as he was afraid of it. He avoided his father because of it. But that day at the gym a few months ago - that other man made him truly feel it for the first time. Kane didn’t want to relive those moments, but he did in a flash. And the feelings that burst out hit him, making his thoughts spin - worse than they already were. How would Lacey react? What would she do? What would he do? Why did he feel this way? He didn’t know if these feelings around - well THEM who Tait may as well have been the leader of - was a part of him that was alpha like his father that he was uncomfortable expressing for where it could lead. He didn’t know if it was admiration or desire or hero worship or… A longing to be like his father or not like his father. It just had no name. It was like – Kane was brought back to the real world and away from the whirlwind of his thoughts by an audible gasp and rustle that went through the entire restaurant. Again, Kane instinctively knew what it was. Who it was. Again, he didn't have to look up to know what had happened to generate that response. But, just like gravity around a black hole, Kane was drawn in and turned to see. Kane’s first thought was that his father looked bigger than he remembered, if such a thing were possible. Tait towered at least a full head over… Well, everyone there. That was normal for a man who was 6’9” outside of a basketball team locker room, but it wasn't just his height. Kane could have sworn that his father was physically wider and more thickly muscled than even during his playing days. Maybe it was just his clothes, Kane reasoned. Tait was dressed in all black - black polo shirt, black slacks and leather belt, black leather dress boots. The height of simplicity. Thing was the way these clothes looked. Every stitch Tait wore was custom tailored. His clothes fit so precisely as to highlight every muscle to the hilt. His massive pecs were totally outlined, his quad development shown through his trousers, an impossibly deep v-taper from shoulders down to his waist, even some of the thicker veins were visible through the cloth. Yet, none of the clothing was so tight as to look like Tait had deliberately done it. They simultaneously looked painted on but loose and comfortable in the way only superbly custom-made clothing can. It wasn’t a matter of Tait showing his wealth or station in life or even simply vanity however. Fact was - no one made off-the-shelf clothing for someone like Tait. Simply finding pants long enough was often difficult, much less pants that could house his monstrous quads and calves. Finding size 18 shoes anywhere in any style at all was nearly impossible. Tait had needed custom clothes as long as Kane could remember. Kane heard another sharp intake of breath - this time from directly behind him. He turned to see Lacey with her mouth agape in shock. “Kane,” she barely whispered, “is… is that-” “Ya, that's Dad.” Kane replied. “Told you. Dad is a bit… different.” Lacey had seen plenty of well built, muscular, handsome men in her years. Plenty of very tall men when she cheered for Stanford basketball. Plenty of so-called Alpha males on the field and at parties and in the halls of power. But Tait - she was just floored, stunned, speechless. He was the biggest man she had ever seen. The sheer size of him. He looked like he could make up three ordinary sized men. And, if she were honest - his sheer sexiness was astonishing. His height, his classic chiseled looks, his commanding vibe. All those things she knew in scattered pieces in other men - but in Tait all combined and magnified in one. She had not even spoken to him yet, but everything about him screamed that this was a man among men. Lacey felt her crotch tingle involuntarily. An animal desire from within her. She couldn’t help it. And she wasn't alone. Every woman in the restaurant was having the same reaction. They all felt the… whatever it is that women feel in the presence of a proverbial apex alpha male. And the men - they all felt what they had in their own package either flex with the same desire or shrivel as it was obvious they were totally outclassed. As the young couple watched, Tait looked down upon the maitre'd - who came no taller than his upper pecs - and spoke to him. They could not hear what was said, but they could see the person who had been more than a bit snobbish and prickish to them physically wilt. Kane noted that the same man who asked them for their identification didn’t ask Tait for the same as he fumbled over himself. At that moment, Tait saw Kane and Lacey in the distance. He said something to the maitre’d and then just walked past him as if he no longer existed. Tait walked through the lunch time crowd like Morpheus in The Matrix. Totally direct and purposeful, yet strolling through the sea of people as if they didn’t exist. All while the maitre’d looked as if he were physically drained - perhaps like Moses after seeing the Burning Bush. As soon as Tait came through the patio doors into the open air, he looked to Kane and said heartfully, “How are you, Son?” Father and son began to walk toward each other. Lacey stood, frozen, watching. Her shock and nervousness only grew as the great man approached. It did not escape her that Tait seemed to cover the same distance that took Kane ten steps in five. The giant reached out and took his flesh and blood by the hand in a massive enveloping handshake and then pulled him into a hug. Lacey thought she could hear Kane reply, but it was lost somewhere in Tait's lower chest muscles - where Kane's head landed upon the man who had 15 inches of height on him. But - that didn't matter to her… yet. That voice - Tait’s deep, smooth, confident voice. Tait sounded like a combination of the bass of Vin Diesel and the smoothness of Lawrence Fishburne. So strong and confident, yet so soothing. That voice could crush an ego or inspire armies or wrap you in curtains of safety and security, depending on how he used it. She understood in a moment why Tait was so effective as a psychiatrist or as a team leader before that. That voice attached to that man could make you want to tell every secret you had and love doing it. She felt herself become even more aroused hearing him. She started to understand what Kane had meant about gravity. She felt pulled toward him, like a moth to a flame. The perfect voice, the perfect height, the perfect muscle, the perfect attitude - she just couldn't help it. He was so much more than Kane’s description could ever hope to convey. She noticed something else in that moment of embrace. Kane. Though they seemed so different - and they were very different - she could see so much of the son in his father and so much of the father in the son. Kane’s voice was baritone rather than bass, not quite as silky smooth and confident. But she could hear so many similarities. Kane had a quiet strength about his voice, much as the magnified version in Tait. There had been more than a few nights when she had become lost in Kane’s voice. Kane’s face and physical features were so different from Tait's - yet there was no question they were father and son. Kane was what Tait would have been if he were more of the non-descript power behind the throne type. A very different type of masculine power; yet it was there. So different - yet so similar. That similarity to Tait made Lacey desire Kane more too. She watched as Tait released Kane and together they approached the table where she was. Kane - she felt ashamed for her reaction to Tait. She loved Kane. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Kane. Why was she so pulled into wanting Tait to f– She crushed that thought. “And you must be Lacey. It is cliche but Kane has told me so much about you,” she heard as her vision became blocked by a man mountain. Lacey looked up and UP. She felt like she was a little girl again standing in front of her father as Tait held out a wide hand. She extended her own hand and Tait took it. “Dad, this is my fiancé Lacey Masters. Lacey, please meet my Dad, Tait Holden.” Kane introduced. Tait’s voice seemed to wrap the young woman in velvet smoothness. “An absolute pleasure to finally meet the girl my son was lucky enough to catch… or was it entrap?” Tait cracked a mischievous smile with just the hint of a complement toward her and the good natured rib at his son. Kane's cheeks flashed an inordinate amount of red in embarrassment. Lacey giggled. Fuck that smile is like liquid sex. What is it like to kiss–, she thought. “He didn't trap me.” She replied then added almost as an afterthought. “Well… maybe he did, but it's a trap I enjoyed falling into. The pleasure is mine, Doctor Holden.” Tait turned to his son for a moment. “Kane, you didn’t tell me you had found such a keeper of a girl. Better hold tight.” He flashed a smile again before he turned again to Lacy. “Tait, please. You’re not a client in my office, and I still have enough of the ranch in me to hate formality from my family - or close enough to family. Of course, there is one exception I make to formal custom - one I always liked with a beautiful young woman.” Tait’s voice dropped slightly, becoming almost intimate. “‘Enchanté, Mademoiselle.’” In a practiced motion mastered through thousands of repetitions, Tait raised her arm while simultaneously bowing himself and kissed her hand. Lacey shivered. Her panties very nearly became wet in desire. Tait was so big he could totally close her from the outside world if he embraced her. She could tell from the thick, weight lifter built muscles of his hand that he was strong enough to lift her to the ceiling with one arm with no effort at all. She imagined Tait in the gym putting dumbbells more than her body weight easily over his head. Her eyes wandered up his thick corded forearms that radiating raw, crushing power, and, Jesus Christ, that bulging biceps even partly under the sleeve. What must that feel like to… “That’s my Dad, just a smooth-talking, muscle-bound Cassinova.” Kane quipped. Leave it to Kane to ruin the moment, Lacey thought. She almost snapped at him for his rudeness, but was stopped by a good natured chuckle from Tait. Lacey could not tell if the laugh was a “touché” recognition of his son’s verbal jab - or an Alpha male’s amusement at a lesser being trying to stand up to someone far beyond him. Maybe it was both she thought. “Maybe so, Son. I admit to being a softy sometimes under it all. I suppose Kane learned how to trap good women from me.” Tait pointed his free hand toward Lacey’s seat. “May I?” Lacey smiled even more as she gave her ascent. Tait lowered her hand and held it as he escorted her back to her seat. As he led her, she tried to hide the fact that she was shaking at his touch. She understood intellectually that Tait was just showing proper manners. But her body didn’t want to believe it. And… she failed. Tait felt her response and suppressed a knowing smile. As Lacey thought, he wasn’t purposefully trying to do anything. It was just that he had seen this so often that he couldn't help but feel a bit of amusement. Years ago, Jess’s mother told him that common courtesy from him could be misinterpreted by many women because of the masculinity and power he conveyed. So, Tait was very cognizant of where to draw lines with most women. She was family so he would allow more than with most women. But the lines were still there with a woman so much his junior - no matter how much closer to her age his looks made him. Still, very first impressions of Lacey Masters - he liked this girl. Kane - he noticed her response too. Like his father, he had seen this so many times over the years. It was what he knew would happen and was afraid would grow. He hoped this would end when Lacey became more familiar with his father’s presence. The way his mother or grandma or aunts were around his father. They would just laugh at it when they felt it and give their men a smooch. Still he felt a jab of familiar jealousy - no woman had ever responded to a simple display of manners from him like that, much less his own fiancé . Maybe she had never responded like that to anything he had ever done. No matter how intimate. Even in… Kane’s feelings of inadequacy grew even more. And with it his internal conflict expanded. After Lacey was seated, Tait moved to the side and took the only other available seat at the table… Next to the young woman. Kane mentally kicked himself. He had unconsciously upped the level of temptation. He had chosen to sit opposite of Lacey facing her across the table out of habit - the way they always sat when going out. Tait hadn't thought anything about it. He simply slid into where he thought he should sit - within inches of Lacey. It was innocent. Anyone would sit in the only available chair… but now Kane felt even more uncomfortable. Seeing them like this, side by side - it was oddly striking. They sort of matched, like his mother. They looked so–. Awkward silence again took over, but after a few moments, Tait broke the ice. Again, he directed to Lacey. “I suppose this is when we begin the awkward small talk you do when you're meeting the in-laws? I remember mine. Maybe I should just tell some embarrassing childhood stories on Kane like any parent does when meeting their kids’ sweetheart.” Tait flashed his million dollar smile signaling the humor, which made Kane blush again - hoping against hope his Dad wasn't going to actually do that. Tait and Lacey couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was indeed the perfect thing to break the ice. But her laugh was almost like a schoolgirl enamored of the hot new guy. Of course, she was nervous meeting Tait but - that laugh. It was more than nerves. Without realizing - in a half flirtatious way, her hand moved to Tait's forearm…This time, she was definitely wet. Thank fuck what she was wearing would never let on to her condition. But she felt it. Her biology betrayed her - and what she felt. Crazy, hard muscle. Veins. What about other veins lower down. And his skin - it was an odd juxtaposition of thick and thin, hard and supple - like a weightlifter. Like a strong man. A bodybuilder. Her fingers lingered as she felt movement - the small and large ripples of individual cords of muscle, each of which had to be bigger than Kane's whole forearm. She kept feeling as she caught the scent of Tait's heady musk, a clean but utterly masculine scent - sandalwood and leather and cigar and pheromones and the primitive primate part of her brain responded. Involuntarily, she drew in a breath. That breath - damnit, had she been caught? Lacey’s cheeks flushed and she dropped her hand, though she didn't want to. She was feeling up to her beau’s father. That was awful, but… I have to be good, she thought. She truly believed she was being totally proper now not feeling Tait’s arm - it never reached her consciousness that her hand had just dropped only to come to rest on Tait’s massive quad. The entire previous exchange felt like minutes, but in reality it was just a second or two. Lacey continued, “I hope it's not too awkward.” Her answer was both a proper answer and a Freudian slip. “I make no promises that I won't mess up. But, I'll try my best,” Tait said to both of them, feigning innocence. Tait knew her hand was on his quad… but drew no attention to it. Kane jumped in. “Speaking of awkward - you're looking… BIG, Dad.” Now it was Tait's turn to flash the slightest of emotion - Pride. There was always something special when your kid noticed that you were reaching your goals. “I thought you'd quit working out as much with the Draft interview schedule keeping you so busy.” “I'm glad you noticed, Son. Been working hard the last while even with the schedule. Some OK results for not enough sleep and depending on the team catering crews to give me healthy food, if not exactly geared for me. But, I do want to get bigger.” “Bigger?!?” both twenty-somethings said incredulously in unison. Tait felt Lacey’s hand begin to squeeze his quad. Then move to squeeze another spot. It was a bit of a thrill to feel that a grown woman’s hand - petite though she was - could not even span the single femoral head of his right quad. Just one of the four main groups - wider than the length of her hand from her fingers to wrist. She was looking for weakness. She would not find it. Lacey - she was indeed feeling his leg, trying to figure out what bigger meant. She decided there was no way. How could there be - he was so big already. So totally hard. He had to be immensely strong. Everywhere she felt - nothing but rock hard muscle. It couldn’t get any bigger. Tait could not help but to feed on their stunned energy, particularly Lacey. He found a strange sort of enjoyment at the prospect of showing off for his family and pushing them into disbelief. He decided to go with the flow. He opened a light version of a jock smirk to their reaction. “ “But you're already so BIG?!?” Lacey finally said. Tait held out his right forearm and biceps and began to tense and relax them in view of the kids. It was not a full out flex at all - more of just moving his fingers and wrist making the muscles twist and dance. As he did so, the cords of thick muscle and veins exploded and the promise of a truly monumental biceps mountain hinted it was alive under the black polo sleeve. “I'm certainly trying. It was my New Year’s resolution, so to speak. Maybe it's just an old man's vanity trying to keep up with all these NFL prospects I work with who are even younger than you two. It’s fun to still be able to out work and out lift them, I have to admit. “I turn 45 in a few months, and it is more than fun to see them - please do not take offense Kane, Lacey - but it is more than fun to see them have the same reaction you two are having right now when I get a good pump. I am going for conditioning too, not just size. You know someone my size can put on a lot of muscle AND fat just by existing and eating enough. But I want to carve up the size I am putting on. Be lean and cut as well as bigger. Actually, I am aiming to be better than I ever was when I did the pin up calendars when I played in the league. One last time and hold onto it as long as time and age will let me.” Lacey’s hand groped even more at hearing that. If you looked closely, her eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing had become a bit faster. More shallow. “Dr. Hold – Tait,” Lacey corrected. “Almost 45?!? You don't look a day over 30.” Kane groaned inwardly. His anger had been growing the entire exchange. He was going to let it all go as a natural reaction that Lacey couldn’t help. His father’s gravity. That it would go away. But that level of blatant hitting on another man right in front of him was uncalled for. It was as clumsy and in his face as if she were still a teenage girl getting attention from the hot jock. Right down to the giggles. He could see Lacey fucking groping his leg and just dying to touch even more – Kane almost said something when Tait stepped in. He deftly slid his own palm over top of Lacey’s hand and pressed down. He stopped her moving. Still feeling him of course, but she was no longer exploring. “Thanks for the flattery. You're too kind. But let's be honest. The gray hair is coming out a lot more than it used to be. I still recover from a workout very fast compared to someone else my age, but not like I did five years ago. We all lose our battle with time. So, you two should enjoy every moment. I have no regrets except…” Tait stopped for a moment. Kane could see a flash across his face of the love his father had for his mother. Tait would never allow himself to break down in public. But that reaction to a thought of his mother was enough to break Kane's anger. “Except for perhaps one. And, frankly, you remind me a bit of her, Lacey.” Tait took a breath to center himself and then he continued, “I've lived life the best I could. And still try. That's why I'm doing this. To live life the best I can before I can’t. I want the same for you two. No matter what that means and where it takes you both. Be who you are and live life to the fullest.” Lacey stopped her attempts at feeling, leaving her hand resting on his quad, but followed up, curiously. “Living our best lives is one thing, but… a pin up calendar?” Tait laughed deeply. “Ya. One of the bright ideas of the League.” Tait said sarcastically, clearly amused at the thought. “They were trying to get more female fans. So their solution was to have those of us who were particularly good looking or at least had good abs that they could airbrush pose for these pin up calendars. Guys of the Gridiron, or something just as cringeworthy, haha. “Never did a thing to get more women fans of the game as far as I know. We just became a little bit of - well - fantasy material for some women and a few guys I guess.” Tait chucked again. “But I did a few calendars to raise money for charity while I was playing. Like, the ones that raise money for animal shelters - what do they call them now “Bullies and Biceps” or “Hunks and Hounds–” Tait laughed again. “I was there with all these fitness models and bodybuilders. A fish out of water as a pro football player with these little pin up dudes. Anyway, they raised some money for good causes. That I am happy to have done. You might even be able to find some of me when I was Kane's age showing off my assets.” “But ya, I want to get truly massive if I can... in fact, I'm working out at the 49ers facility while I am here to stick to the goal. Do that at every team facility when I have to go to in-person interviews. You're both welcome to come if you like. I'm sure the team wouldn't mind.” Tait smiled. “Really,” Lacey said, clearly excited to see Tait in something a bit more revealing than proper clothing. Now it was Tait’s turn. He knew what she was thinking and slightly rubbed Lacey’s hand on his quad. It was imperceptible to anyone visually. But Lacey felt it. “Of course. As often as you like.” He looked at Kane. “Both of you. I’ve never done a workout with you, Son. That would be amazing if we could. I can even try and set up something permanent if you both want.” Feeling Tait’s touch, seeing what she saw, hearing Tait’s invitation to the gym. Lacey just couldn't resist anymore. It was so cliche - but cliche’s work because they are so often real. “Tait - would it be OK if I… if I… see your-” she stumbled over herself, a ball of hormones and nerves. Kane finally snapped. He had endured so much these last few minutes. And this was the last straw. “Lacey, get hold of yourself. This is embarrassing. You wanna date my Dad or something. You sure as hell are feeling him up. Maybe it is just better if I leave you two to it - fuck…” Kane stood to leave, when both Tait and Lacey said, “ Kane, WAIT–” Both immediately withdrew their hands from each other. And as they did Lacey realized just where her hands were. What she was doing… Fuck. Kane was right. She had been flirting with Tait this whole time. She'd been touching him since he had sat in his chair. She just… couldn't help it. Tait was so different and dominant compared to every man she had ever seen, she just felt compelled. Tait was just too powerful a presence for her instincts. She did it even though she intellectually didn't want to. And she had offended the man she loved. Lacey was about to say something when Tait again intervened, again saving the young people. “I'm sorry son. I shouldn't have allowed the conversation to go that way. And I should have stopped anything that crossed any boundaries that you both have. It is not Lacey’s fault. It is mine. You can remember how many people asked me to flex for them or take pics with them when you were a kid. It bothered your mother until she came to understand that it is nothing more than a compliment and I never would dishonor another person or myself by crossing a boundary. She even came to laugh at it. I'm sorry if I have violated any boundary between you two. Can you forgive me?” Tait’s statement about his mother brought back a flood of memories. Indeed he could remember so many times as a kid when people would ask his father to flex or ask for photos… And they'd try to feel his arm. Doing it for kids was one thing but he also remembered the women. So many women. He also remembered his parents laughing and joking after. He always thought it was his Dad being a player - and not the football kind. But now he remembered conversations. Laughing about some reaction. They never made sense to his child’s brain… Until now. “I… I guess so Dad. I didn't remember until now but she and grandma used to laugh about it. She thought you being a hunk was great fun. I… Just…” “No son. I understand. Your mother was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I was quite protective of her if you remember. Like I said, Lacey reminds me of her a bit. More than I think you can know. So maybe it is a bit of nostalgia too, no offense intended to Lacey. It is a GREAT compliment. But perhaps I became too familiar out of habit.” “I get it Dad. And I'm sorry. Both of you.” Tait then smiled. “OK, now if it is not violating any boundary and in the spirit we just talked about. If you're OK Kane and Lacey I'm happy to satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and flex for her. You haven't seen the truly bigger me either. And then we will laugh about it. I mean I'm not in the habit of flexing in a Michelin star restaurant. A different kind of beef than what is on the surf and turf? We can satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and I doubt she will ever ask anyone again as I doubt she will ever see any bigger…” Tait smiled broadly - a smile that could melt glaciers. Lacey said, “Kane, please. Really, I am just curious. That's all.” “Alright. Alright. Go ahead. I suppose you will always wonder until you see it. And I have to admit I am a little curious myself. You’re bigger than I ever remember you being, Dad.” Kane said in surrender - and it was true that he was curious. He didn't want to admit it and it was for a very different reason… but he wanted to see his dad flex too. “Well then kiddo, I'll give you a dose of the cannons to feel later.” Tait laughed deeply. “In the meantime, Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Tait bent down in his chair a bit to not draw quite as much attention as a full out flex would do. He held his arm down to be within easy reach and then curled his monster forearm and fist around and up. The muscles of the upper arm rose and Rose and ROSE. Tait smiled as the gigantic muscle took full form. Even Kane in disbelief said, “Christ, Dad.” Tait’s arm was the diameter of a volleyball. A tremendously shaped, peaked mountain exploded out, covered with several thick and thin veins across its surface. The thick/thin skin Lacey noted earlier traced out many striations and a well-developed cleft between the heads of the muscle. The well-made polo covering it made a creaking sound, as the stitching of the custom made shirt was stretched to the limit before Tait rolled the sleeve back to afford a full view of the monster ball and the massive hanging horseshoe beneath the dome. Tait pumped it out and in a couple times. “Thanks Son. It is better with a pump, being honest, but it’s still pretty good. Go ahead Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Lacey’s trembling hands - both of them - reached over and tried to wrap around Tait’s arm. She failed hardcore with many inches between the hand on the bottom and the hand on the top. In fact, her top hand could not even cover half of the biceps mountain. “Oh my GOD.” she said. She tried to squeeze it, but she had no ability to move it at all. It felt like a warm bronze statue in the summer. The flesh was unyielding to her at all. Yet - she felt it move, but only at Tait’s whim. Tait smiled more broadly as he saw her reaction. She moved her hands, trying to feel any soft spot, any weakness, any spot at all that felt like flesh and not rock. There was none. “Oh my God, Tait, Kane, it is SO BIG and HARD. I mean you had hard muscles when we were in school but nothing like this. Tait, you must be the strongest person ever in the gym. Jeez.” “Go ahead and hit it a bit if you want. It’s the same.” Lacey obeyed, fawning as her slight pops became harder and harder into slaps and then into punches. For a girl, Lacey was very strong and fit and knew how to throw a punch from her classes at the gym, Yet all she felt was a sting in her own hand as hit after hit did nothing but make Tait smile at her. “Fuck.” She said under her breath. “I don’t think I could make a dent in this with a baseball bat, Kane. It’s like all the muscle on your whole body is in this one arm. Your muscles have never felt like this. Your muscles are nothing like this. I bet if he squeezed you he could crush you. Wow.” She said under her breath. Tait laughed, “I take it you approve.” “It is the most manly muscle I have ever, ever felt. You’re right Tait. I never need to feel another muscle on a guy again. No one else will ever measure up. I can’t wait to see you put these football guys to shame in the 49ers gym. Can we go Kane, please. I really want to see Tait embarrass a few of those fucks I remember from school.” Tait was still flexing for Lacey, Lacey still feeling, and Kane … Kane still in utter awe. Kane would have felt offended that Lacey flatly said that she would never want to feel his body again after feeling his Dad’s but - he couldn’t. He had hugged his Dad earlier. He had felt his Dad’s body. And seeing this… he wondered if Lacey’s comment wasn’t true. He certainly could never build what his Dad had. He wished he could. He wished he could do ANYTHING to come even close to that. But he had no idea how. And Kane felt… something. Something like gravity. A pull toward SOMETHING... Kane never betrayed the gravity he felt toward his father’s muscle display. “I guess Lacey, if you want and if you are sure, Dad. I’ll go.” “Absolutely. I’ll call Roger Goodell and make it happen if I have to. He owes me a favor anyway. And… thanks for indulging and letting me show off just a bit Matty.” Kane groaned and Lacey looked up at Tait, even as he pumped his arm a few more times under her roaming hands. "Who is Matty?" Kane just looked down, his whole body seemingly turning red in embarrassment. Kane sighed. "Me. That’s what mom and dad called me as a kid. I went by Matt everywhere else except my family called me Matty - until I started using my middle name Kane in college. Guys back on the high school wrestling team heard Dad call me Matty, and the name stuck like glue." Tait looked a bit sheepish. "Damn, son. I’m sorry. There I go telling old men stories. It's just one of those old habits. I know how you feel about Matty." Lacey smiled and chuckled. “I, however, just got a little bit of leverage in the war between the sexes.” In a tremendously cheeky bold move, Lacey bent over and planted a small peck kiss on Tait’s still flexed biceps - the only part of him she could reach as big as he was. “Thank you, Tait. I may have to use it sometime… Matty.” Tait laughed hard and Kane turned redder still. It was really one of those classic parent stories they tell on their kids but… there was something in Lacey’s eyes, on her face. Something. And then it was gone. Tait spoke up. “At least if I do it now, Kane, I won’t get in as much trouble. But I will try to keep that as private as possible. Anyway, It will be a pleasure to show off for you both. It has been a while since someone appreciated what I do with the players – and to the players.” Tait laughed as he slowly lowered his arm. Lacey’s hands hung in mid air for a few moments before she lowered them. She loved Matty… rather Kane like her life depended on it, but… She just HAD to feel that arm again - HAD TO - when she could tell Tait what she really thought - alone when Kane would not hear. HAD TO before Tait left again for New York. “What do you mean Tait,” Lacey said shakily. “What do you do to players?” Tait smiled. "You both were athletes at Stanford. Imagine someone like Christian McCaffrey being told he has to be interviewed by an NFL staff psychiatrist for potential draft teams. He is expecting some short fat dork who has never even taken an elementary school flag football snap to walk in. How do those athletes react when they see me come in and the first thing I do is ask them to do is to take me through their daily workout... and the dork doc beats their ass in every lift." Kane said in a not exactly joking manner after the name “Matty” came out, "Dad has always liked to lord his abilities over other players." Tait looked at them both. "No, it's not that at all. Yes, keeping up with them or beating them in the gym is an ego boost to me, and it hits their ego. But it also serves a purpose in my psychological evaluation of them. “As a rookie in the League, no matter who you are or how good a college player you are, being new in the League, in practice and games and the locker room, you face being physically out-performed and bullied a bit by teammates and rival players. We are all paid professionals, but it is testosterone-fueled men and there is a pecking order and can be pissing wars and dick length contests, at least metaphorically. It is part of tradition, and playing with the best players in the world. Some say I am in the running for the greatest tight end of all time, and it happened to me. I remember getting my bell rung once like I was Big Ben in my first game with Charles Woodsen. Once I got accustomed to the League, half the time some corner in the secondary tried to make a tackle on me and they just bounced off. But that first year or two, I still got flattened more than once and reamed by the locker room and the coaches for it. “By me being a doctor and a retiree and still beating their lifts, I get to see in a small way how they will deal with adjustment to the League psychologically. Can they roll with it and adapt to not being Big Man on Campus anymore and be willing to learn or do they fold and wash out? It's important to see how they will react when I trash talk them a bit, since that will show me how they will take that trash talk in the locker room or that coach ripping them a new asshole for missing an assignment. They also tend to open up to me.a lot more after seeing proof that I really did play in the League. That, though I'm a doc now, I still know the NFL on the field and in the locker room - and could maybe still play if I wanted. That confidence and trust in me is important to get to their true feelings and attitudes and how those will gel with the various clubs and team cultures around the League." Lacey was utterly enchanted getting to hear some of Tait’s intellect and mental prowess at work. But even Kane understood, maybe for the first time in his life, that what he so often saw out of his dad wasn't just being a jock. He remembered what it was like to be called Matty by his teammates. How he sometimes felt belittled by it. Like a tiny boy when he would lose some practice matches or get out worked in the gym or starving to come in on weight. It gnawed at him so much so he changed his name. And the locker room at Stanford was even harder… he could nigh imagine what being a rookie in the NFL was like. The millions spent on one person - if they crumbled like he had crumbled at this lunch seeing so many innocent things as an attack. He understood. It made sense. Tait was doing them a favor by out performing them. Kane knew - he would do the same thing himself for the same reason if he had his Dad’s ability and prowess. Kane’s respect for his Dad expanded at that moment - he was more of a proper man than even he understood. The gravity toward his father increased… “What else do you do for the NFL?” Lacey asked… And so it went as the trio had a wonderful lunch. Lacey drove the conversation, pressing for more and more information about Tait. Tait, happily engaging and observing. And through the entire lunch, Lacey’s hand - whenever she could - touching and feeling Tait’s hard muscles when she thought Kane wouldn’t notice. Tait, having been told that it was no longer crossing a boundary, allowing Lacey to explore to a point. And Kane - gaining more and more appreciation and admiration. Kane’s resistance to the force that pulled him toward his dad slowly collapsing. Kane’s ability to resist his father in anything - slowly crumbling. The feeling… disturbing feeling, slowly increasing. The conflict that had slapped him in the face with the force of a steel chain to the mouth - slowly growing. But, finally, as it always does, the lunch came to an end. After Tait took care of the bill, the three of them walked through the door, and then stood outside. Tait first embraced his son. “I will be in town all week, son. I want to see you again, anytime I can. If not before the trip to the gym, then how about after that. I would really like a little father-son time if that is OK.” Tait then made his son look up as he looked down into the softer male face. “Maybe lunch or dinner, just you and me.” Tait’s tone was obvious - a time when Lacey was not there and when Kane would be a lot less defensive. And Kane could talk openly. Kane thought for a minute and nodded yes. He had never truly been able to say no to his Dad for long. He had never seen anyone who had truly been able to say no to Tait Holden. Then Tait turned to Lacey. “And you, young lady. Thank you for the wonderful meal and wonderful conversation. And I can’t wait to get to know you better as well.” “I can’t wait either, Tait.” Lacey said. The giant embraced the beauty queen, and the beauty queen returned the hug. Tait noticed something that no one could ever see given his size. Lacey - sure, she was hugging him. A hug that was a little too tight, a little too close, hands moving a little too much. She was feeling more than just his muscle again. She was leaning into him, like trying to draw strength from him. For what purpose unless it was – Tait felt her small hand slide just down just a bit. Too far down. The hand went over his hard glute cheek. Feeling, exploring. Kane could not see what she was doing given his massive frame. Tait did what he had done all night, only this time half out of reflex and half out of showing off. He flexed his glutes under her hand. The hand found them particularly impenetrable, as she traced lines until she found the entrance to one of his back pants pockets. The hand slid inside. Tait felt something… and then the hand withdrew and slid back up onto his low back. She pulled back, looked up, and gave Tait a strange, knowing glance. She then took Kane’s hand as if nothing had happened. As the three left the restaurant and Tait started for his car, Lacey could not help looking at Tait’s huge size 18 boots. She happened to wonder for a moment if the old saying was true, as she glanced down to Kane’s size 7 shoes… *** Tait got to the passenger door of the 49er’s team car and opened it. It was only then that he reached his hand into his back pants pocket. His fingers discovered a folded piece of paper. He withdrew it and opened it. Written there was a note - when had she had a chance to write this? - Was her hand feeling his leg, trying to get to a front pocket but was unable? Either way, she was good. Very good. “Tait - Please contact me ASAP. I need to see you again urgently. But text only. 123-555-1212. Please do not call. And PLEASE - Don't tell Kane. - Lacey” ***

As did I!

Sp many twist and turns in this chapter but i have a feeling Brickmight be our killer. I dunno but something tell em he knows something

Richie is promised a surprise by his boyfriend of six months that he will likely never forget. His partner, Leslie, has been known to vanish once a month due to unknown reasons, and up until this point, has never let his partner know why that is. He usually tells Richie that he has important business he must attend to. The 33-year-old, 5’4 cutie with thin glasses, is of mixed race, which is partially Arab and South African, has been working as a freelance journalist. He has traveled a great deal during the last decade and is no stranger to meeting guys in his past. One of those men he has mentioned to Richie a great deal is a man from Spain named Maxus. This man was apparently built like a heavyweight bodybuilder and was incredibly gorgeous. After spending a night together and having some intense sex, the man apparently filled Leslie’s body with his seed and changed his life forever. Depending on how you look at it, it was either a gift or a curse. Leslie apparently hated it at first but has learned to love all of it over time. He told Richie that this happened around four years before they met. He said that this happened on the full moon of that month, and it prompted the hot beast he was with to become the alpha type he was crazy about. On that same day/night he would also become an enhanced version of himself. Leslie remembers that Maxus seemed to be more pumped up than usual that night, which made the sex even more wild and satisfying, since he was probably about half the size of the beast he was fooling around with. Incredibly, he said that he could take this hulk’s pounding despite their weight discrepancies. Maxus had apparently pumped him so full of cum that it caused his stomach to swell so big that he looked like he was going to give birth at any moment. The man loved how it looked and was kissing it lovingly every minute afterwards before they both finally dozed off. He remembers waking up the next morning and the man was gone. His stomach was still swollen from the impregnation, but he somehow felt different. He could sense that something was going on inside him but couldn’t figure out what it was. He said the next month on the full moon he found out what this ‘feeling’ he had was and it shocked him to his core. Now, he is willing to show his boyfriend what happens when the moon is big and full in the sky. Leslie’s boyfriend Richie is 35, extremely shy and introverted, and admits that he isn’t very experienced in the intimacy department. Ironically, this is what attracted the cutie to him in the first place. Both men are relatively thin. Richie is a bit taller though at 5’8. He is told to meet with his boyfriend at 11:30, the night before the moon is at its fullest. Richie knocks on Leslie’s apartment door. The cutie answers and is wearing a loose red top and black shorts. He also looks as if he just shaved. “Hello sexy boy...come on in. I have been waiting for you to come see me.” He hugs Richie tightly and kisses him softly. They then both go in as Leslie tells his friend to sit down on the couch. He looks quite anxious and is pacing a bit. “You doing okay Les? I don’t think I have ever seen you like this before.” “Uh yeah, I will be okay bro. I just know what is coming in the next few hours. I always get like this before the ‘change’ happens. When I first started doing this, it was not very fun. Now though, I can anticipate the progression. Normally, I would be completely nude close to midnight, but...” Richie looks at him with a wry look on his face. “Well, you do what makes you comfortable.” “Oh, trust me. I plan on giving you a show. The ‘change’ is slow, but incredibly satisfying.” After a few more minutes of general chit chat and Leslie trying to calm himself down, he looks out the window behind where Richie is sitting and sees that the moon is getting a bit closer and bigger. He can feel his breathing getting heavier. It is now a minute before midnight, and he can feel something stirring in his crotch. He stands in front of Richie and stops talking as he lightly moans. Richie can see his partner’s cock twitching. “I am guessing it is about to start, judging by what is going on down below.” “OHH YEAH! You can reach out and feel it if you want to.” Richie does and runs his fingers along Leslie’s shaft and feels it flexing and throbbing. He is getting excited himself and he feels his own cock reacting in his shorts. It feels as if the energy from Leslie is trying to transfer into him. He has a feeling of ecstasy passing through him as time switches over to the peak of the full moon. He looks down at his own crotch and sees his own cock tenting in his pants. “Wow, just the anticipation alone has me excited Les. What does this mean?” The cutie standing in front of him smiles and seems extremely happy about that. “I was hoping that we had a connection bro. Mm...it feels so overwhelming at first...the rush of testosterone flowing from my brain...oohh...into my balls...ahh...my testicles...are starting to grow.” Richie moves his hands down and feels his partner’s sack swelling. He realizes that Leslie is not wearing underwear at this point as the young man takes his glasses off and puts them on a nearby table while wiping his brow from the sweat that is starting to drip down his face and body. He reaches down to adjust his cock as it slowly begins to stretch against his right leg. “Richie...I am going to let it keep going for the next few minutes. Just realize that this is just the first part. I think you will approve.” The young man watches his partner start to rub his chest and nipples slowly as things start to get a bit more interesting. He can hear the 33-year-old groan under his breath. Richie undoes his shorts and pulls his hard cock out to slowly stroke it. Leslie briefly closes his eyes, only to open them back up again to look down at Richie and continues smiling at him as he decides to give him some more commentary on his changes. “FUCK BRO! I’m so glad I am already getting you worked up. I promise that you will be spilling your seed all day long. Don’t worry about it going dry either, I will make sure that doesn’t happen. Just keep focusing on me growing for you. Mm...it feels so fucking good.” Leslie’s chest and arms are now swelling bigger as his lower half starts to do the same. He moans as he squeezes his inflating pecs. His forearms and triceps flex and tremble as they expand wider and thicker as he feels his hands getting larger as well against his chest. The fur on his body is starting to spread and darken as well. Richie tries to maintain some of his composure as he reaches out to feel his partner’s quads blowing up. The veins in both legs, huge and pronounced, strain against his shorts, as the fabric starts to beg for mercy. The growing beast’s cock is now turning towards his partner’s face as it attempts to rip its way out the front of his pants. “MMM...I love how you are rubbing on me, Rich. My cock is getting fucking huge too. Feel free to let your hands and mouth roam...I am just moments away from looking like Derek Lunsford.” He stops playing with his pecs and lets them continue to expand further outward. His shirt is now extremely tight against him as a gap develops beneath his huge swelling tits. His nipples are completely visible from beneath the fabric. Richie can now see his rapidly growing eight pack for the first time. Leslie’s bloated pelvic floor is starting to become too much for the waistband of his shorts as they slowly start to fray. His breathing and moaning are much louder now, as he is getting extremely excited. His swelling glutes are testing the limits of his shorts as well. “Now you can see why I wore these clothes bro. You will get to see me fucking destroy them too.” Leslie flexes his engorged, massively veiny biceps and grunts as he stares at them rising. The sleeves on his shirt burst, allowing his mammoth arms to swell even bigger. At the same time, his quads are ripping the sides of his shorts open. Richie groans as he watches this happening and is leaking precum all over his hand as he pets his growing partner’s cock, which is barely contained within the confines of Leslie’s shorts. He can smell the massive amount of testosterone being produced inside the beast’s swelling crotch. “UHH YEAH...are you ready to meet my beast maker? He REALLY wants to meet you...RRAAUUHHH...” Leslie grunts as his lethal cock finally rips out the front of his shorts. His enormous furry ball sac is now completely visible as well. Richie immediately starts licking on his partner’s throbbing shaft and catches some of his precum. The growing beast moans deeply as his partner works his cock with his hands and mouth. He can feel the cum moving quickly through his testicles. “MMM BRO... I hope you are really hungry. I will make the best protein shake you will ever have...in... your...life...” Richie moans as he starts to guzzle down Leslie’s thick load as it flows freely from his huge 11-inch tool. His savory cum starts moving down his throat and into his stomach. His eyes are also watching in amazement as his hulking partner’s mammoth pectorals heave up and down. There is a mountain of thick brown fur covering each one of them that is visible through the opening of his top. Both pecs are nearly touching Les’s chin at this moment, which he clearly loves. “OH MY GOD, my pecs are fucking godlike. I love the feeling of them up against my face. They are throbbing so much and practically have a mind of their own.” He knows that his immense chest will be free at any moment and motions for Richie to stop sucking on his cock for the time being. The smaller man finishes drinking his partner’s load and notices that his stomach is quite engorged. He pulls Les’s shaft out slowly and kisses his cockhead as a few strings of saliva drool down his face. “Hey bro, mmm it felt so good draining my boys...uuhh...ohhh...I am trying so hard to keep from...” He reaches down and picks up his partner in his bloated arms at the very moment that he feels his back ripping the back of his shirt open. His huge delts and traps quickly start mangling the upper half as his pecs start ripping out of the front of his shirt. Richie hears Les moaning deeply as his inflated furry tits reveal themselves to him and hit his face. He starts to lock his lips onto both, taking turns sucking on his partner’s pronounced nipples as they point towards the ground. He caresses Les’s chest, rubbing his huge abs, feeling each deep ridge between them with his hands and is drooling heavily as his spit coats his own top. He can feel the beast’s cock flexing beneath his ass as it starts to flow precum once again. “AHH FUCK RICH! I love it! I don’t think I have ever felt such fucking ecstasy in my pecs before. You know what I want to do now...” Leslie props his partner up with one arm and moves the other one down to tear his partner’s pants open. He starts to move his cock up in between Richie’s ass cheeks and slowly teases his hole with it. “OH, MY GAWD YES LES! FUCK ME PLEASE! I want you so much!” “I know you do bro, but just know that whatever happens next will be overwhelming.” “I am ready beast.” “Okay bro, enjoy the ride then!” Amazingly, Richie’s tight hole loosens up to allow Leslie’s big cock inside him. The much smaller man yells in anguish for a few seconds but is much too eager to allow whatever happens to him next to occur. He starts bouncing up and down on the beast as the two men are entranced with each other. Leslie has noticeably become even more handsome than before. The fur on his face has thickened and is covering portions of his swelling neck and traps. He grunts as he tries to forcefully pump his partner full of his seed. “I have a BIG surprise for you babe. I can do this...” Leslie flexes his mammoth quads and ass as he feels his bloated ball sac twitch as they fill his huge rod with his thick load. Richie moans and feels his intestines filling up. His massive partner smiles as he looks down and sees his bottom’s midsection swelling up against him. He is hoping that this is where he can do something he has always wanted to do to another man. “Uh...what are you doing to me Les?” “You should find out in the next few minutes Rich. You got too curious about my big secret and just had to be a part of it. Well...here we are. This is me as a huge human, but I am actually holding back a little bit. Pumping you full of my seed brings me so much happiness because now I will have another monster in this part of the world to have fun with.” “Uh...another monster? Wha does that mean?” “Shhh...let it work itself inside you. Mm...it is crazy because when I was converted, it took a while to take effect, but right now, I can just sense it as I hold you against me. Bro, you are going to be the hottest beast I have ever been with.” Leslie finally pulls out of Richie as he puts him back down on the ground. He adjusts his cock as he starts to feel his bloated muscles and watches his partner stare down at his big stomach. “I can barely fit my gut in my shirt now. There is so much cum...” The huge, bearded beast pulls the rest of his clothing off and slings it at the windows in the room. They make a cracking noise as Richie notices that they are likely going to break due to the force behind Leslie’s power. He then turns back around to look at the beast again. “This is your doing, Rich. I never do this inside of a building because I know what will happen. My urge to destroy things is growing as this progresses. Speaking of progression...mmm...I am going to show you...” Leslie’s back cracks as he begins to get taller. He moans as he feels himself getting closer to the ceiling. His muscles begin to inflate again as his arms and chest start to squeeze against each other. He grunts feeling his cock stretching and thickening to over two feet long and about a foot wide. He is now starting to tower over his partner at over 7’ tall and is over 450 pounds. He stomps on the floor just a bit, loving the sound of the floorboards cracking, he squirts precum all over Richie when he does this. “MMM...my voice is starting to echo bro. This is when I know that things are getting serious.” Richie notices that the cum in his stomach is starting to move around in his body and his belly is returning to normal. Leslie is trying to control himself and not attempt to grow again for the time being. “OMG, how are you growing so large, Les? I don’t understand how...ohh fuck...is this going to happen to me?” “HAHA! You are not going to care much longer. I have a feeling Rich, when it starts, you are just going to let it do whatever it wants.” “I am not sure what to think.” Leslie is struggling to contain his excitement in wanting to destroy his apartment. He can feel the endorphins rising in his brain and knows that they will have to be released at any second. “Here... MMM...I am just going to grow again. My mind is going crazy right now and I just want to turn this room into rubble babe. Don’t worry...I won’t let you perish, but you might be a bit surprised when I do...AHH...FINALLY...TTHHIISS!!!!!” His back starts cracking again as he literally starts to blow up in size. Within just a few seconds, Leslie goes blasting through the top of his apartment and continues to grow wider and thicker. He quickly reaches down to pick his partner up in his hand and closes it to protect Richie from the falling debris. All that the 35-year-old can hear is the mountainous giant saying, “MORE...MORE...MMOORREE!!!”. The loud crumbling noises finally ceased after a few minutes. Leslie’s hand opens and he rolls Richie onto the ground below. “Uhh...where are we now Les?” The 15’ 950-pound behemoth stands about five feet from him, breathing heavily, his entire body raining sweat onto the grassy field they are in. He doesn’t appear to want to speak anymore, but he is glaring down at Richie, obviously wanting him to just start growing. “Oh, you don’t want to talk anymore. Well...I guess that is understandable...OHH MY GAWD...I can feel it starting...” Richie moans as he feels his cock and balls stretching in his pants. His ass is growing rapidly as it swells out the back of his shorts, which were ravaged by Leslie earlier. He watches his arms and chest make quick work of his top as his back cracks multiple times sending him higher into the air. His mind has now sent him into another dimension as he starts to catch up to his partner in size. “OOHH YYEEAAHH!! I need to GROW! Give me MORE!” In a matter of seconds, Richie’s clothing is obliterated, and he can only think about how big he is going to be and how much fun he will have with Leslie. The swelling beast doesn’t take long before he is brushing up against his partner and they stare into each other’s eyes. The two giants know that they can say hardly anything to each other, or it will risk damaging something other than the apartment that they are both looking at. They end up growing again, this time together, to gargantuan sizes. Well...at least that is what Richie was trying to convey to Leslie. The 33-year-old though has a different idea going through his head. He wants to find something else to destroy but wants his now 36’ 10k pound partner to do it for him. After a couple of minutes of pushing each other, the two giants agree to instead cause a flood with their cum. Both set themselves up on opposite ends of the city and start stroking themselves to climax. Since traffic is quite light during that part of the night, it will be a surprise when people are awakened by a white river moving down their streets. It is now after 2am when Leslie and Richie cause their neighborhoods to experience an unexpected natural disaster. They try to contain their pleasure in doing so, but their voices cause windows to break and trees to fall unexpectedly. When they finish unloading, the two giants vanish into the night to hide out together until the morning comes when they will return to their original sizes. They awaken at around 10am in a neighboring town, looking like their normal selves, but will need to find a way back to Richie’s place. The two nude men manage to convince someone to give them towels to cover up with and they get a ride back to the city. When they get to the edge of the city, they can see the carnage that they caused. The fire and maintenance departments are cleaning the streets of goo, people are screaming at the police over what has happened to their properties, and there are even some people that are looking pregnant. Men and women both. Leslie and Richie get out of their ride’s vehicle in front of his apartment and smile at each other. They feel like they have accomplished a great deal in the previous ten hours. As they rush inside his apartment, Rich turns back around and looks at his neighbor’s as they stand outside staring at their bellies. “I think maybe next month we might have some friends joining us, Les.” Leslie laughs loudly. “Do you know what we have done, Rich? We have probably impregnated literally dozens, maybe hundreds of women in this city with our beast makers. And yeah, it is hard to tell how many fucking gorgeous monsters we have created as well. The next full moon is going to be the greatest night ever.” They both turn back around and go inside.

#Recording file M - 2908 "I... i can't help but moan. Orgasm... with some pain." "It happened every time my body got bigger, which then activated my orgasm more intensely. First of all, the legs." "Oh my goodness! The thin, wrinkled legs I once had were no longer there, and in their place were healthy legs with huge, muscular thighs and calves. Huge muscles work in harmony to show off each other's greatness, and snake-like veins stand out on the legs. My skin was as smooth as when I was in my 20s. No, it was much healthier and softer than my skin was in my 20s!" "This transformation wasn't just about my legs. Every time the red power essence of the young man in the bathtub flowed into my bathtub, and each time it was absorbed into my skin, my body became hotter and bigger. My chest grew and bulged, and my slim abdomen became thicker and firmer, soon revealing strong ten abs. My shoulders and back suddenly became wider and stronger, and my pale skin became healthy and smooth. My body gradually began to resemble the giant muscles of a young man. Yes, in just a moment I will be an 8 foot tall muscular bodybuilder." "And I felt my power essence flowing out of my body and into the bathtub next to me. It was blue and so fragile. Each time it was absorbed into the young man's body, the young man's body gradually became smaller. His chest, which was bigger than anyone else's, dried up and his abs disappeared. His shoulders and back narrowed, and his healthy tanned skin turned pale. The young man will soon be five feet tall, thin and frail, just like I used to be." "As you can see, we are exchanging each other's power essence. This was possible thanks to my research results. However, the unfortunate thing is that we cannot change our age. That is, my body from the neck down was young and strong, like that of a young man, but my head and face were still the same as those of a man in his 90s: a wrinkled white beard and an old face full of hair. Still, there were some good points. The healthier my body became, the more changes I noticed in my old hair and face. The wrinkles remained the same, but the tanned skin became firmer, healthier, and more attractive. My once sparse white hair has now grown voluminously, long and even shiny, covering my back. "There are no more helpless, useless old scienti-" *Crack!* *Crack!* "Ugh! Argh!" *Crack!* *Crack!* … ... "Ah… haha… I'm sorry, I suddenly got bigger again." "Okay, now I'm pretty close to 8 feet. The experiment will end in exactly 3 minutes. And I will become a perfect elder bodybuilder…" "So just a little more…"

Part 2-1 – Off duty It was early afternoon when I finally was off duty. I changed into my regular red jockstrap, a pair of jeans and a black v-neck before I slowly made my way towards the entrance. It was cold outside, and my thick jacket made me look even wider than I already was. The train station was packed with university students today. It wasn’t an issue for me to get in…. I stood close to the window until I realized who was standing right next to me. It was the Jock from earlier. And this time… He was standing right next to my pits. I always got rid of my jacket in the train. I didn’t care bout others… If they didn’t like my musk they could just go away… But right now there was no way he could get out of this situation. The train was packed to the rims and he was forced against my side. He had earbuds in. He was beefy… Juicy… And he could still use some manners when I remembered how he glared at me earlier today. The train slowly filled up further. People rushed into the heated wagon when he was pushed further against my side by the crowd. He had no other option. They forced his frame around like a toy. Sure he was built… But he couldn’t deal with the mass when they forced his head up against my pits while I held myself on the iron rod on the ceiling. He got rid of his earbuds before he tried pushing me away… I slowly glanced down. His hand against my side before I slowly turned which now forced his body up against my massive abs, pecs and bulge… I could spot his eyes glaring up at me from his position before he was forced rougher against my body when the door opened up again…. “Whats´s up down there?” I licked slightly over my lips. He turned me on when he tried punching me for my dumb line. I felt his fist slam against my brickwall of abs… My cock slightly hardening in the process before I felt his knee slam against my nuts. I didn’t show any emotion before I ran my free hand down around his back and glutes, before I slowly squeezed them rough, crunching down just so slightly until my lips were close to his ear. “Listen boy… If you want to stimulate me… You’ll have to use more of your legs strength”… I turned and now pinned him up against the corner of the wagon and the window… My huge body blocked the sight on his frame while I could feel his hands all over my hairy frame… He was trying to push me away… But he couldn’t even move me a notch…. “Fuck boy are you turning me on right now….” I bucked my hip slightly forward until he felt my massive slowly hardening cock against his abs and bulge…. “But if you make me hard…. You’ll stay until I’m soft again” I forced my thick finger in between his glutes before I shoved it inside…. He wanted to scream but I shoved his mouth up against my hairy, sweaty cleavage. My shirt rippling underneath my muscles… “Damn looks like our jock got hard, huh? Like Daddy Phil’s body?” I shoved my finger further inside over my thick knuckle when I grabbed his bulge with my other hand. I felt more people press up against my back while I kept going… My own cock got slightly harder… I inhaled the dense air… Felt my muscles slowly getting sweatier while my testosterone level starts rising again. Each moment made my lust worse… I could feel the lust… The sexual tension when I heard his low moan up against my pecs…. I slowly glanced down…. I felt the damp feeling around his jeans…. “Huh…. That was all?” I slowly pulled my finger back out of his glutes before I traced it over his nipples…. I heard the announcer… We were close to my station when I slowly glanced down over my thick pecs. My sleeves were shredded slightly. My lower abs were showing… I grew again… It was years since I last had a good growth spurt… I crunched down again when my low voice hummed in his ears…. “You better last longer next time… Same day…. Same train” I pinched his nipple hard until I heard him squirm before I left him behind. Slowly getting off the train. I was massaging my bulge slightly… He only got me semi in there… Fuck it turned me on to break jocks… TO turn them into my own obedient runts… I grinned when I slowly made my way up the stairs… Towards my second home: The gym.

Hey all, I have had a long hiatus from story writing and am getting back into it, so I thought id share my last story I wrote, which was over ten years ago, reposted from the old forums Please feel free to leave some tips and feedback, and let me know if you would want to see this story continue IN LEAGUE WITH SATAN THE PACT BY SHINJI86 Frank Defoe was your standard gym rat. Been steadily going to the gym for the last 4 years and he looks the part, wide shoulders, well formed chest, large arms, well shaped calves and thick quads, and walked around at about 15% body fat. For most guys this would be amazing, just 4 years ago he had next to no muscle, close to if not more than 50% body fat and absolutely no self esteem. No girls and guys looked at him and his strong body as he walked through the gym. But inside, he wasnt near satisfied, if anything he felt cheated. You see he started training with 2 of his buddies, Max and Neal, all starting from nothing, constantly pushing each other to the next level. It became quiet clear that out of the 3, Frank was defiantly at a disadvantage gene wise. He was at the same level strength wise, but fell behind physique wise long ago, and the gap has been growing larger and larger ever since. Max and Neal were pictures of muscular perfection, monster arms, tree trunk quads, calves the size of most mens quads, wide as hell shoulders with traps taking away there necks, wide v taper and mutant pecs. They could easily take out any local bodybuilding contest, and took every persons attention as soon as they walked in the room. The thing that really got to Frank was that he did everything the same, if not better than the other two. Diet, form, supps and even there anabolic protocols, he followed all of them perfectly, but his genes just let him down. His frustration was very evident, and the other two picked up on and exploited this. In the last year they had taking too making him feel small and insignifigent. After every set they would pose and flex there pumped bodies, asking Frank to compare them "Hey Franky boy, whose arms do you think have a better peak, mine or Neals?" Max would ask while him and Neal were both doing double bi shots. "Come on Fran, no reason to be upset, this is a priviledge getting to see these godly pysiques on a daily basis, you should eat this up" Neal taunted him. Even in the locker room, Frank never used to have a problem changing in front of his friends, but once there size difference had become clear the taunting had got to him so much that he would retreat to the stalls to change. While they were all on test, gh and a massive aray of pharmaceuticals, the other two had also had growth in other appendages that Frank still fell into what he felt was mediocrity. "Yo bitch boy, feast your eyes on a real man, 22 inch arms, 8 inch soft cock, and my partner in crime with 23 inch arms and 7 soft cock. Let me see what your working with kid?" Neal said bullying "Man you know that pussy is only working with 17's on a good day, and like a 6 inch hard" taunted Max before he erupted into a solid belly laugh "Fuck you guys are cunts, why dont you guys just leave me alone, maybe go suck each other off" fired back Frank as he turned toward the stalls "Nah thats for your Mum to do bitch, you wanna see what she is gonna be working with?" And with that Neal starting pumping is thick snake to life, and Max sortly followed suit, bringing them selves to full hardness. "Frank, look and what your new step Dads are working with" flaunted Max "Fucking monster roid cocks mate, if you wernt some dredge cunt with pussy genes you would have a beer can thick 11" beast too" boasted Neal "Fucking horse cocks ae, im sitting at 11 and a half, and i will be fucking destroying some slut tonight while you sit in your room at your Mums house researching how not to be a puny bitch hahahah" Max burst out into a diabolic laugh With this Frank could take no more, and stormed out of the change rooms, and power walked right to his car, and sped out of the car park in a solid rage. Why do such terrible people get such wonderful gifts he thought to himself. How the fuck does the world fuck himself over so much, he does everything right, gives to charity, attends church every Sunday, never broke the law or did anything mean or underhanded, while these assholes got all the results and all the trappings of them. Both Neal and Max have a Youtube channel and have so many subscribers that they dont have to work, they get all the girls they want, they just seem to get everything they want, while Frank does all the hard yards and then some and cant get ahead. He has even snuck in a extra cycle or two that the other two havnt had and dont know about, still nothing. In a huff, he stormed into his house and straight into his room, without saying a word to his Mum and two sisters and slammed the door behind him. He flopped on his double bed and looked at all the posters on his wall of the best pro bodybuilders and bikini clad figure women. He used the massive Dorian Yates poster as his biggest inspiration, Often jerking off while looking at it thinking of himself having that physique, and thinking of all the stares he would get, both of woman and men, they eyes longing to see him fully pumped, wanting to fuck him. He all of the sudden got hard at this thought that had come into his head very often. He stroked himself while steering at the poster, imagining himself that big, bigger, with a monster muscle cock to match, so big he would make Neal and Max look like tiny bitches. Oh he would do anything , absolutely anything for that. Then as he was coming close to climax said to himself, "i would sell my soul to Satan for that chance, god hasnt given me shit. I do everything the bible says, and i get absolutely nothing. Satan Lucifer, hear me, i will do anything for that chance, to make me the biggest fucking muscle beast in the world, with a beast cock to match, fucking dooooo ittttttt, YEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH" and with that he shot his load all over the poster. While he regained his composer after one of the most intense spite filed orgasm's of his life he started feeling like he was being watched, then he heard the deep baritone voice that made James Earl Jones sound normal. "Franklin my son, turn and face me, i want to answer your call" smoothly said the inhumanly deep voice said As Frank turned he was greeted by a sight out of a muscle comic. A hugely developed man, larger than Marcus Rulh, with red skin, a face that was the definition of manly beauty, clad only in a cape and a posing strap, which seemed to be close to breaking stuffed with what looks to be the biggest cock in existance "I am the dark lord, Satan, Lucifer if you would, pleased to meet you mr Defoe" the beast reached out his humongous hand, Frank trembled and reached his hand and shaked the master of hells hand. "Pa...pa...plllleassed to meet you sirrrr" he finally was able to get out "Well, seeing as your request is formed with the most purest hate that i have felt in a long time, i felt it was my duty to give you what you want. There is alot of people who atepmt to conjure me, but all of them just want it to get girls, or to win something, purely selfish pursuits, in which i will see no entertainment. With the level of pure aggression, animosity and hatred i feel from you i know you will cause some shit that i will enjoy. " "What do you want in return, my soul?" "No my young friend, in my thousands of years since my descension from heaven, i have taken many a mans soul in return for something stupid, and they can never fully enjoy it cause they will have a deep emptyness inside them. But i have only giving a handful of people the power to use with nothing in return, just so i can watch the destruction they cause. Atilla the Hun, Napolian, Hitler, Ted Bundy, the form of pure hatred is hard to find, and your comtempt for everyone else in the world, and the hatred for the privileged is incredible. So i will give you a fluid to inject that will make you a absolute animal, but first you need a massive load to get you started, this is your sacrifice" Wait, im no Hitler or Bundy, im not gonna kill or anything, i just want my fantasy. And what kind of sacrifice?" "Well, sometimes I enjoy people taking whats theres and humiliating the bullies, i love a underdog, plus as you can see i love muscle" He said doing a incredible most muscular, "Your sacrifice is to get this fluid, you have to perform felatio on me" he said with a devilish smile "Ummmmm, ok i guess, if it will give me what i need ill do anything" said Frank uncertainly " Well come here then" said the unholy beast seductively Frank slowly walked over to him. Always turned on by huge men, he had never ever touched or kissed a man before, now he slowly locked lips with this crimson behemoth. To his surprise he started to really getting off on this, starting to open mouth kiss, then his tongue started darting in and out of the dark lords mouth, while his hands explored the vast expanse of this olympia grade physique. Shit if he competed he would destroy everyone. His hand finely worked his way down his back to the monstorus striated glues. His cock was completely hard by the overwhelmingly massive body of the fallen angel. He then came around the front , working his way down his brick work abs, stopping just shy of the posers "Come on son, you know what you are, i can read your mind, you love fucking girls, but you've always wanted to suck and fuck a massive man, so unleash the monster and do it" he whispered passionatley With that Frank dropped to his knees and started pulling down the strap. "Holy fucking shit!!!" gasped Frank Out fell a 10 inch soft, already 8 or so inches thick monster "Come on son it wont bite" The red snake start to swell with Franks touch, till it got to its full magnificence, 15 mind blowing inches of muscle cock. Frank pulled back his foreskin and kissed the beast, then he opened his mouth to take it in. He got about a 5th of it in his mouth and started, then after a few minutes the monsters hand started guiding him deeper and deeper "Thats it son, ahhhhh, just like that, agggghhh, yep, I KNEW YOU WERE A COCK HUNGRY SLUT, AGGGGGHHHHHHHH" Frank was in the zone, he was oblivious to the world around him. Its like this was what he was born to do. He caught a look of himself in his mirror, the site of a well built jock sucking and gagging on a red muscle monster was the most erotic image he'd ever seen. "Here it comes, swallow all of this, dont spill a drop, HEAR IT FUCKING COMES, AGGGGGGGHHHHHHH YEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH' the beast roared as he came , and came hard Frank swallowed every bit, then he felt a rush of endorphines into his brain, then he orgasmed harder than he'd ever before, then he blacked out As he came to, he wondered if it was all a dream. Such wild outlandish things couldn't be true, could they? He then caught a look of himself in the mirror, his whole body looked like it had the most insane pump ever, and he looked a little bigger than before. No, this cant be real, then he raised his arms for a double bi shot, and they were easily a inch or 2 bigger. "Holy shit, this must be real" He continued exploring his pumped up body, feeling new size, hardness and vascularity across his whole body, he started to get really turned on by this. Thats when he noticed that his cock had grown a inch, and was thicker "Woah, this is crazy, and fucking hot" he said stroking his new meat Then he saw out of the corner of his eye a 2 litre bottle of pale blue liquid and a note. The note said Hi Frank, This bottle of liquid is to be used in place of a steroid, you will have no need for all the other chemicals you have, this will make your dreams come true If you havnt worked out, it is the same liquid you so greatly sucked out of my cock, that first shot was to take care of the loading phase. Just inject 1cc of this twice a week, and within the next few weeks you should gain more than what you usually would in years. I look forward to seeing you in your new muscle stud body in a few weeks, and get a bit more of that hot mouth of yours around my monster, by then you might be bigger than me Yours truly Your Dark Lord Frank took a step back, then thought to himself, bigger than him in a few months, fuck that hot, then he stroked himself to a intense orgasm

"Jake, I did it.” “You did what?” “I spiked his food.” “You spiked your dad’s food with...what exactly?” “You know...the special ingredient.” “Huh? You put the GH enhancer in his food?” “Yep. Your wish might come true, Jake. I mean, I think it is a bit weird that you find my dad so sexy, but I suppose someone has to, right?” “Well, he is rather good-looking Randolph. I think the dad bod suits him well, but I suppose a bit more muscle could help too.” “Heh well don’t wait too long to see it happen goof. He is about to eat it.” The two young 21-year-olds laugh a bit before Randolph jokingly goes into the other room to act like he is doing something. Jake goes to sit down by Randolph’s very sexy 51-year-old father Harrison, who is wearing blue jeans, loafers, and a top with three small buttons that are below his neckline. He has a bit of a pudgy belly, but it is cute, according to Jake. Harrison’s body is covered in fluffy reddish-brown hair with a light dusting of gray mixed in. The middle-aged man has noticed his son’s friend looking at him on occasion and it makes him blush. As he sits at the bar with Jake, scarfing down the food in front of him, he pauses and lets out a few moans. He yells for Randolph to come in so he can talk to him, but there is no answer. He then looks over at Jake and makes a few comments. “Did Randy put something in my chicken, Jake? This tastes better than I remember it. Actually...oh...that sneaky boy has finally done it, hasn’t he?” With his arms now sitting on the bar counter, Harrison looks down at both of them and smiles as he watches his forearms start to swell beneath the fabric of his shirt. He moans deeply as it gives him a lot of pleasure. Jake is also looking at them. “This explains why he isn’t in here right now. He did this for you, didn’t he?” Jake reaches over and feels the veins swelling and growing. Harrison sighs as the young man’s touch feels so soothing. “Mmm...I think I am going to enjoy this quite a bit Jake.” He jumps up from his stool and stumbles a little bit before getting his bearings again. He nervously laughs as he can now feel his legs growing inside his jeans. “Ahh...so this is what it feels like when you become a hulk. I hope I can give you a great show young man.” Jake joins him as he nearly falls over trying to stand up so he can watch in eagerness. Harrison’s biceps, triceps, and shoulders are now bulging. Massive veins pulse beneath the middle-aged man's sleeves. The 21-year-old slowly runs his hands along the growing beast’s swelling arms for a few seconds before leaning down to lick Harrison’s left bicep. The older man moans loudly. “Oh, fucking yes Jake. This is almost better than sex. Heck, this feels like sex to me.” His traps and delts are expanding now, as he grunts leaning his neck back to show it widening for his partner. The veins visible beneath the skin. He pulls Jake up to him as he feels his chest swelling as well. “I am becoming a beast for you Jake. I really loved this top too, but I am more than willing to hulk out of it for you. I am getting so much pleasure out of this, and I know that you are too.” The expanding outline of Harrison’s growing pecs is making Jake so horny that he is now reaching down to rub his own crotch with one hand and is feeling the 51-year-old's chest with the other. “I have fantasized about this for so long Mr. Jackson. You are so freaking gorgeous.” Harrison looks into Jake’s eyes and then leans over to slowly kiss the young man on the lips. He puts his arms around him and moans as he feels his huge biceps ripping through the fabric. Jake is transfixed on them as they stop kissing. The older man can feel his lower half straining in his jeans now as well. After a few seconds, the seams on them start popping loudly, making Harrison sigh in pleasure, feeling his quads blowing up in size. “Ahh, this feels so exhilarating Jake. Don’t call me Mr. Jackson anymore. We are way beyond that now. I will be Harris to you from now on. Mmm...fuck the anticipation of seeing what my huge upper body is going to look like is...” He is incredibly excited when he notices just how thick his pecs are getting. His belly has now vanished completely as his impressive six-pack can now be seen just beneath his shirt. He positions Jake to the side of him as the young admirer can feel one of Harrison’s forearms finally tear free from its sleeve. The older beast’s top is now struggling to stay intact as a few seams rip along his traps. He leans over to kiss Jake again. “Mmm...you are a great kisser, Jake; you know that don’t you?” He takes one of the young man’s hands and puts it over his growing package. The raging beast is about to burst from its confines. “I think it is a great time for you to meet my baby maker. He is getting so BIG!” Harrison grunts loudly as his cock bursts through the zipper on his jeans. He puts Jake’s hand over top of it so he can feel it as it swells even larger. He then rips his jeans open in the front so that his ballsac can also continue to expand. Jake moans as he caresses the beast in his hands, feeling the veins bulging against his fingers. “Oh yeah Harris, it is getting so huge. I am getting so freaking turned on.” “You are actually making my balls swell bigger and heavier by saying these horny things, Jake. I fucking love how much you are enjoying this.” Harrison has now positioned his massive furry quads to where his ballsack continues to expand as it starts to hang even further down between his immense thighs, his testicles swelling to the size of tennis balls. His glutes have also grown to nearly twice their size as well. Jake passionately kisses Harris’s huge veiny arms as he begins to stroke the older man’s huge rod. Harris moans in pleasure as he feels his chest getting even bigger as his top tries to stretch to accommodate his new size. He is now growing a lush, brownish-red beard with gray strands in between each luscious hair. Jake has now started to lick Harris’s big, protruding nipples on his shirt. The two swollen furry mounds of flesh are still somehow being contained within, but they are slowly rising to the sexy beast’s chin. Harris gleefully laughs as Jake chews on both of his tits as the pleasure sends his mind to places, he never thought it would go. He is leaking profusely onto Jake’s hand that is still playing with his tool. “Haha, don’t you worry Jake. I won’t forcefully rip my shirt on purpose...” As he says this, each of the buttons, one-by-one start to pop open, gradually revealing parts of his engorged, gloriously furry pectorals. He involuntarily bounces them, causing each sweaty manly balloon to start a small tear just beneath the last button. Jake sighs as he feels himself cumming in his pants. Harrison can see the anguish on his face, and he loves it. “I am loving that you are so hungry for my muscles, Jake. It is definitely fueling my lust for more.” Harrison’s back is shredding his shirt to pieces. Huge mounds of mountainous muscle emerge finally, revealing his delts and lats, which are growing thicker and wider with each second that passes. The big beast grunts as he slowly feels his abs starting to shred the bottom half of his shirt. His adonis belt has now ripped his jeans completely off his body as well. His swelling feet have also destroyed his loafers. “I am having trouble concentrating Harris. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on.” “Keep watching me, Jake. My beautiful boys are wanting more attention as you can see.” Harrison has now placed both of the young man’s hands on his mammoth pecs and sighs as he feels them ripping his shirt open. The two heaving mounds glisten with intensity, his breathing labored but incredibly happy, as they drape over his swollen furry six-pack. His obliques are impressive as his gorgeously huge lats are now fully visible. Jake’s tongue quickly gets acquainted with Harrison’s erect nipples again, which are now pointing downward. The big beast laughs again as he feels an unbelievable amount of pleasure coursing through his body. “Oh, fuck yeah buddy. Mmm...daddy can never get enough of your appetite for me.” He yanks his tattered shirt off finally and is completely naked. He flexes his arms and chest a few times as Jake goes back to stroking the huge beast with one of his hands. “Ah, good boy. You want to make hulking Harris cum... That is such a smart decision you are making. How long have you wanted to make me cum Jake?” “For so long, Harris. You have no idea.” “Oh yeah? So, turning me into the man of your dreams, the muscle fucking daddy of your dreams is just a part of it? Mmm...I will feed you so much of my cum, don’t you worry.” Jake continues to stroke Harris’s huge one-eyed monster with authority, hearing the big guy moaning in delight, his body dripping in sweat. The young man is intoxicated by Harrison’s manly scent as he runs his tongue along the huge beast’s incredible abdominal cavity on up to his meaty pecs, sucking lovingly on each one of them as he stares up and smiles at the huge beast’s face. Harris hugs him in a strong embrace while letting his admirer have some control. “You are such a great worshipper, my boy. I think you should now move that mouth of yours down to little Harris, because he is getting ready to give you a real treat.” “Sure, thing boss. It looks so huge though, I don’t know how I can please him.” “Heh don’t worry about it Jake. He doesn’t take too much coaxing to get a rise out of him.” The young man takes a few moments to look at Harrison’s impressive equipment, staring at his thick furry bush, kissing his thick veiny shaft, and running his tongue on his meaty head. Harris sighs and laughs every time his partner flips his cock up and down. “Ahh, I’m glad you are having fun with him Jake.” Jake’s foreplay is driving the older man wild, and he loves how it is putting him on edge. It is making his testicles grow even bigger as they start to pump more cum into Harrison’s prostate. He is now starting to push the young man down on his swollen beast. Jake nervously tries to resist, but it is not happening as Harrison’s strong hands are too much. “Mmm...I can feel my seed starting to pump into my cock Jake. Drink up, my boy.” He can hear the 21-year-old gagging as his powerful load flows both down his throat and out the sides of his mouth. His neck muscles appear to be stretching a bit, as if his body is trying to adapt to what is happening. Harrison moans as he watches Jake trying to keep some kind of composure as he continues to get abused by the beast’s incredible white flood. “GOOD BOY! You are such a trooper. I wonder what is going to happen to you when I am done filling every part of your insides with my DNA. Are you going to resist it Jake?” After several more jets of cum leave his swollen balls, enter his thick cock, and escape down Jake’s sore throat, he lets go of the exhausted young man as he feels his emptied rod leaving his partner’s mouth. It dribbles several strands of fluid down onto Jake’s-soaked red t-shirt and black pants. He is now trying to catch his breath, gasping for air, but appears okay. Harrison picks him up off the floor and embraces him again, holding him close against his huge chest. Jake has now put his hands on the big beast’s arms and is caressing them. They are both smiling at each other. “Uhh...whew...Harris...I thought I was going to die. I am so overloaded with your cum, I can hardly breathe.” “I wonder what will happen next buddy. I want you to grow big and strong like me. Isn’t that what you want too?” Jake pauses to think about it and is getting an uneasy feeling. He has always admired muscle growth on other men but has never considered it for himself. His mind got swept up by Harrison’s incredible transformation and he wanted to look at and feel his older crush’s muscles, which did happen, thanks to his friend Randall. Speaking of his close friend, he now wonders where he is hiding. “With all of this happening to you, I completely lost track of where Randy is.” “Why do you care where he is at right now, Jake? Heh, your attention should only be on me, right?” They can hear someone groaning down the hall. Clearly, it is Randall, but he sounds like he is in a bit of pain. Harris has an idea of what is going on and tells him to come into the room to join them. “RRAANNDDYY...Did you get jealous of Big Harris and have to get big like him too? Come in here so we can see you hulkout as well.” The 21-year-old redhead slowly walks in. He is wearing a white tee and yellow shorts. His body has already started to grow as his quads and calves look quite a bit larger than they were before all of this started. His cock is tenting heavily in his shorts and his arms are getting huge and veiny. “OHH FFUUCCKK...I couldn’t resist the urge to take it, Jake. I didn’t realize it would make me feel so good either! I just crave size so much now.” “You are such a good boy, Randy. Our DNA is geared for hugeness. Just let it overtake your senses and enjoy the ride.” The young beast moans loudly as his glutes start ripping out of the back of his shorts. He stares and smiles at Jake as his pecs inflate, stretching his tee to the point that it is practically painted on his chest. His huge six-pack is also visible beneath his shirt as his lats start ripping through the sides. He is panting with excitement. “I want you to grow so bad too Jake. You have to join us; this feels so fucking amazing. I love the feeling of just...RRWWRR...” Randy’s swelling cock bursts through the front of his shorts with ease as his junk is in full view. It looks very similar to how his father’s cock looks, as his ballsack also expands to nearly twice its size. “Oh, well I see that my genetics have been passed down to you, son. Heh, I imagine you are going to need help with that in a little bit, right?” “I do dad, but I want Jake to be the one to make me cum. Mmm...the thought of him taking my load on top of yours pops is something I want to see. It has to mean that he will turn into a grotesque muscle monster.” The young growing beast has now walked over to join the other two as he gets ready to show them both his immense chest. Harris grunts as he sees his son’s shirt starting to rip. He is now stroking Randy’s huge cock as Jake starts to feel himself losing control. They both can sense it. “Good boys. I can’t wait to see you blow your load inside Jake, Randall. He is going to realize just how special he really is.” “Oh fuck, I can’t wait dad. RAWR! Yeah, chest fucking GGRROOWW!!” Harrison yells in delight watching Randy’s chest swelling bigger beside him, now completely exposed and covered in a nice fluffy layer of reddish fur. His shorts are now ripping off his swelling legs as his shirt is in tatters. He moans feeling his dad getting him close to the edge. “Fuck...I am going to cum. Get your mouth down there Jake, start drinking up, and get to growing already.” Randy rubs his big chest as he feels the cum start to flow from his big cock. Jake catches some of it in his mouth as he starts moaning deeply, feeling things happening to him all over his body. He can hear both other huge beasts grunting as they can see him swelling. The young man came in wearing a red tee shirt, black shorts, white briefs, and a pair of sandals. After savoring several shots of his friend’s cum, Jake stands back up and begins to embrace his growth. He stares down at his legs and calves and watches in amazement as they begin to explode in size. Father and son are sighing under their breaths. He can feel his cock expanding rapidly as well as his shorts are already starting to shred under the raw power of his muscularity. He can feel his confidence building in his head as the growth moves up into his upper half. His sandals are no match for his enlarged feet as they explode open. Harris and Randy yell in pleasure as the two beasts are loving how much bigger Jake is getting. They can hear his back cracking as it appears he is getting even taller. His shirt rises a little further up his chest as parts of his pelvic floor and lower abs begin to expand quickly. He moans in delight feeling his shorts ripping along the waist, exposing the top part of his briefs. Randy can see his friend’s huge cock trying to get free. “Come over here beside me Harris. You are responsible for creating this monster.” He Looks over at Randy. “Randy...I think my cock wants to play with you.” With just a few grunts, Jake’s enormous cock tears the rest of his shorts open as they fall to the floor behind him. His briefs are now the only things attached to his lower half, but that likely won’t last much longer either as he continues to expand. His glutes are swelling rapidly as well as he looks over at Harris and grins. He can feel his arms, back, and chest swelling now. “You are going to be the most beautiful monster I have ever laid eyes on Jake.” “You think so Harris? How big should I get?” “Oh, as big as possible buddy.” Randy is now working his cock over, which appears to be making his ballsack grow even bigger. “OH YEAH RANDY! Keep doing that, I will make you want to grow even more.” He looks over at the huge middle-aged beast and stares at him with intensity as his pecs and arms inflate in succession with each other. He grunts as Harris moans with pleasure watching them growing. “I don’t think you are going to be able to wear anything we can get for you Jake. You are going to...” Jake is now laughing as his bloated pecs easily rip through his shirt. His huge, bulbous shoulders, mammoth traps, and engorged triceps follow afterwards, as he continues to grow even bigger. “I am not worried about clothing right now Harris. I just want to keep growing. I have never felt this good in my entire life.” “Whoa, I don’t doubt that for a second stud.” He is now flexing his biceps, watching in amazement as they stretch bigger beneath his skin. He is guessing that they are as big as softballs but thinks maybe they won’t stop inflating. He then moans as his pecs continue to get wider and more powerful, pushing his arms further away from his body. His shirt is now only attached to his neck as it gets ready to destroy the fabric with its immense girth. “You think I am done growing, boss?” “I don’t know Jake, are you?” The hulking beast, who must be upwards of 325 pounds at this point, flexes his back, flaring his lats, touches Harris’s own amazing body and makes him swoon in pleasure. The older beast is now beating on Jake’s abs, which are rock hard and have somehow formed into a gorgeous ten-pack. He smiles as he continues to stare at his crush and leans over to kiss him on the lips. His cock is throbbing as he gets ready to drown his best friend in his own special sauce. “I can feel my cum rushing through my balls Randy. You ready to join the monster club?” “You better fucking believe I want to keep growing Jake. Make me forget what I look like now.” Jake laughs as he starts to spray his close friend in his cum serum. Randy gets incredibly excited as he anticipates that another growth spurt will happen at any second. He closes his eyes, stands up and starts breathing heavy, his chest heaves as he scoops several piles of spunk off his big muscles and downs them into his mouth. He doesn’t know if it must be consumed or not. “Ahh...I want to be big like you Jake so badly. My very existence depends on it right now. I am big, but I must be bigger...taller...fucking hung like a horse...” “I think you will know it when it gets to your...” Randall opens his eyes and starts to moan as he looks down and sees his cock getting even bigger. It is now nearly a foot long as his ballsack expands as well. He starts stroking himself again, feeling his forearms and biceps expanding larger and fuller than before. He is giddy with excitement as his chest begins inflating again, draping even further over top of his huge abs. He is now pressing himself up against Jake as they squeeze their giant pecs together and smack cocks, trying to see who the bigger beast is. His spine cracks a few times as he feels himself getting taller and adding even more muscle to his colossal back. Harrison loves seeing both young men fooling around with each other but is a bit jealous of their incredible massiveness. Both have eclipsed over 300 pounds, and he wants to join in on the fun, but he wonders how he will get there now. After Jake has a bit of a tug of war with his friend Randall, he composes himself for a minute or so and walks back over to the hunky mature beast and smiles. “We have gotten to a critical point in our growth journey Harris. You and Randy toyed with me this entire time about becoming a hulk and you both succeeded. I gave your son the tools to match me in godlike proportions but guess what.” Harris realizes what must happen now. He is a little bit nervous about it, but then again, he realizes that it isn’t that big of deal once he thinks about it. “Oh well fuck Jake. My beautiful boy must provide his old man with the family’s own growth formula by way of his godlike cock. Yeah, I think I can do it this once.” “Heh good, because I am sure that Randy has been wanting to blast you this entire time. He is acting like an insane beast at this size.” “I know you are my dad, but in this one instance, I have to think of you as some fucking gorgeous hunk that I want to grow for my own pleasure. Hope you understand that pops.” “Randall, fucking do it. I want to play with Jake just as much as you do.” The young hulk strokes his cock with both of his hands vigorously and points it in his father’s direction. He is about to do something he never thought he would ever do. Harris can already feel some of his son’s precum hitting his face. It makes him shutter as he hears Randy revving up. The streams of cum begin coating his chest and down his legs as he sticks his tongue out to catch some of the white rain. Jake is heard off to the side grunting, knowing that he will be getting the hulking mature dreamboat that he has always wanted. Randy finishes spraying his cum all over his father as he walks back over towards his fellow 300+ pound hulk and smacks his ass. Jake smacks him back and acts like he is about to tackle him again. Harris is still wiping cum off his body and is slurping it off his fingers. He chuckles a few times. “I gotta say son...you do taste pretty good. You are never going to shove that thing inside me though. I can promise you that.” “That is the same for you dad. Let’s see you beast out now.” Harris is now feeling his body start to grow again. He grins as he feels his cock getting bigger as it starts to look a lot like his son’s. He then hears his own spine cracking as he feels himself adding at least a few inches to his height. He giggles in pleasure as his lats stretch even wider and his back muscles nearly double in size. The swelling hulk moans, staring directly into Jake’s eyes, as his furry chest inflates even larger, pecs thicker, meatier than before and his abs expanding even wider. “Mmm Jake...I am going to be so FUCKING MASSIVE! I feel like I can grow even more.” His quads are forcing him to stand at a different angle because they are getting so monstrously dense and wide. His massive cock dangles between both, dripping profusely, feeling such incredible pleasure as he continues to feel his body expanding. “Aww fuck...YEAH! Look at my arms Jake...my fucking cannons are still...GROWING!” Jake is practically drooling as he watches his daddy hulk’s biceps inflate to the size of soccer balls, veins as thick as garden hoses, and his triceps are now larger than most human’s legs. Harris agonizes as his forearms stretch to equally supernatural sizes. He is much bigger than the two younger muscle freaks and he is loving every minute of it. “I am now back to being the dominant beast in this house boys. Now come over here my beautiful Jake and let me have my way with you.” “With pleasure daddy hulk. I will savor every minute I spend with you from now on.” Jake stomps over to Harris and they embrace, kissing each other longingly as Randy looks on. Jake looks at him and tells him to come join them for a little roughhousing. He smiles and decides that he will join them for that, but no sex with his dad. Jake understands and they start to play strength games with each other including arm wrestling, putting fists through walls, and whatever else they feel like doing. The house they are in will not survive the three hulks because they now feel like they have outgrown it. Between the three of them, they weigh well over 1000 pounds, and they are filled with tons of testosterone. Randy does watch his dad and Jake have sex with each other, and in a way, it does turn him on, but he must remember that this 400+ pound behemoth with his best friend is his father. He will get his turn with Jake as well, and they take turns plowing him. The extreme growth between them has ended. Now they will have to figure out what they will be doing once the house is in complete disarray, as these three will need to satisfy their hunger in just a short amount of time. For now, though, the three hulks are going to enjoy their newfound size and strength.

Feedback makes me hard - as long as it's somewhat positive. Enjoy My grandpa died recently. He was the most brilliant man I had ever heard of. He won the Nobel Prize in Physics twice and the Nobel Prize in Chemistry once. How does a person do that? I guess that was 6 months ago now. I’m starting to lose track of time as I think back of what my life was before. Sometimes it feels like 2 years, sometimes like 2 weeks. Things are getting fuzzy. When it comes down to it, the first 23 years of my life have been pretty good. I have smarts – I’m no brain trust, but I’m sharp and witty enough. I’m shorter than I’d like to be at 5’ 7’ but it could be worse. People have told me my entire life that I am cute, adorable, etc. I guess I’m OK. I have sharp elf-like features I’ve been told – maybe a bit of Scandinavian mixed with Eastern European – like some Lord of the Rings citizen of Lothlorian, but shorter and more tan. I should get one of those ancestry kits and see what I’m made of. Anyway, ya, I guess I’m cute’ish. Nothing of global significance, but if I were found in a small pond, I’d be attractive. And I’ve been able to stay thin and lean after high school and college. I can’t put on a pound of muscle to save my life, and I have tried. But, I do have a nice high tight round ass, a decent 7” cock when I get really excited, and low enough body fat to have 6 noticeable abs and squared off – if mostly flat – pecs. I wear fitted clothes easily. But enough about me for now. So back to my grandpa and looking back on how this all began for me – he was, no joke, the smartest man on this planet. I idolized him. I still do. Grandma is still alive, barely, and I love her as much as I loved him. She supported him always and never waivered from his side. A few hours after grandpa’s funeral, my grandma delivered a box to me at my small apartment, smaller than a shoebox. I was so sad to loose him. I was devastated. But she grabbed my hand and said, “Trevor, he really wanted you to have this. I don’t know what’s inside, but I think I know. He said it was his most valued possession, other than me.” She pushed the box into my chest, surprising me with her sharp shove. “I need to go take a nap, Trevor. It’s been such a long day.” The funeral had been just a few hours ago after all. “He told me to tell you to read the note first and wait a while to open the rest of the gift.” I watched her waddle away, my nan. What a tough woman to have balanced a force like my granddad. She could hang with the best of ‘em. I looked at the box and decided that I would open it after a well-deserved nap. I was exhausted. ********************************************************* Trevor woke up from his nap wondering whether it was after sunset or if it was the next day. His body stretched like a wakening feline. He could feel his lean body lengthening as he reached behind his head and grabbed the top of the headboard. Again the thought came to him – Is it morning or just a couple hours after going to sleep? He looked over at the clock. 7:59PM. Good. He hadn’t overslept into an entirely new day. There was the box. The box his grandfather left him just to the side of his clock. His curiosity got the best of him. “What would grandpa want to give me?” was the only thing he could think to himself. “Grandma seemed a bit – annoyed – about the whole thing,” he muttered under his breath. He unwound the tape that was holding the box closed and opened up the leaflets to what lay inside. “What the fuck is this then?” Trevor peered into the box and saw a small bottle made of clay. It was so nondescript he thought it looked like a kindergartener may have made it on Arts-and-Crafts Day. There were a few folded pieces of paper on the bottom of the box too. He grabbed the paper with his thick fingers (he did have big hands for his size which he always liked about himself) and started to read the words written on the page in an elegant fountain pen handwriting style. “Trevor, I miss you already. I miss your nan. I miss your brother and sisters. I miss your mother and your cousins. All of them. I need to give you something of great importance. When you read this letter, I want you to resist doing anything else afterward except to take a few hours and contemplate what I have written. That is all I can ask of you. My eldest grandchild, I wish you well. I wish you happiness. I wish your desires granted beyond your wildest dreams. Grandpa Wallace” There was a second sheet underneath, written in the same pen strokes. 1. Ask questions. Ask as many and as often as you need. 2. There are many rules. You will learn them as time goes on. 3. Attempt to anticipate consequences far beyond your normal understanding. 4. Maintain control of your emotions, wishes, desires. It will be difficult beyond any explanation I can give you. 5. Embrace who you are but do not lose sight of reality. 6. Help him go further than he could ever hope. It’s up to you now. That was the entire second page. Trevor sat on the bed wondering what the note meant. It was more than cryptic. It was confusing and frustrating. He remembered his grandmother just before she scurried out of the room telling him to “wait a while” before opening the rest of the gift and the note stating that he should “take a few hours and contemplate.” All Trevor saw was a small clay jar, misshapen, old, and ugly really. What did the words in the note mean? Ugh. He didn’t have much patience for this. But he trusted his grandpa and grandma more than just about anyone so he sat there quietly and alone with his thoughts. ****************************************************************************************** Dantalion waited patiently in his vessel. His consciousness swirled in a tight mist. This would be his 12thand final cycle. He knew that he was surely to be destroyed by one of his elder brothers during this binding. He thought back to the beginning when the djinn were created. They were governed by an immensely complex system of laws, regulations, and norms. Twelve of them had been created and now there were only three left. All of them had started on a quest to fill the Well of their power. Each of the twelve had their own Well. The first of the 12 to fill his Well would ascend to Godhood and then would have the power to crush the vessels of the remaining brothers, destroying them and snuffing them out of existence. The humans always considered the djinn to have godlike powers, but with their restrictions, they were more servants to their Bound and trapped in a labyrinth of regulation. He remembered with apathy his previous Bound. According to his personal opinion, the prior 11 were relatively weak men with little imagination. They all wanted power, control, money, or sex. There was nothing horribly creative about that and Dantalion was often bored. Unfortunately for the Bound, one of the laws was that a djinn could not change his physical self to be that of a woman. He was sure he would have spent his previous cycles in various female forms satisfying sexual urges otherwise. Not that sex with a woman was inherently unpleasant, but he knew that it would be one more thing to be bored by – acting out another fantasy without being able to enjoy it. After thousands of years, he was still a virgin, mostly because none of his previous Bound had granted him the ability to feel sex, feel what it was like, what the big deal was all about. He didn’t really care. Humans were so simple, really. Motivated by four or five base instincts. His 11thand most recent Bound wanted knowledge. He was a very measured, unique man, and never lost control. That was unfortunate for Dantalion. He was unable to extract much mana from him to fill his Well. He was attentive to the man but Wallace was so tight wound and controlled. He never let Dantalion really show the range of his power, not even the smallest iota. But Wallace had from the beginning stated he had mostly what he wanted in life. His desire was for knowledge. Apparently, the acquisition of three Nobel Prizes was good enough for the man. Dantalion would have rather ruled the world with him, but that was not his luck. Dantalion had no moral compass with regard to human interactions. He had always been there to fulfill the desires of his Bound – that was his purpose of existence – at least that is what they believed. He knew that it was far more than that. Three wishes would be offered a selected Bound. Those wishes would allow the potential companion to experience the galactic power of the djinn soon to be at his service. Then if the binding was accepted, and it always was, the ritual would begin and the two life-forces would be joined together. Once a Binding was complete, the djinn would wick a steady flow of mana from the desires and emotions of the Bound. As more wishes, desires, dreams were fulfilled – and with increased power used to fulfill them – the more mana would be wicked into the Well. The more intense the satisfaction of the Bound, the more desire an action of the djinn satisfied, the more mana would be drawn away. Dantalion had been woefully unlucky in his chance pairings with humans. But this was the first selected pairing. His 11thsuggested his grandson, Trevor, to be Dantalion’s 12thand last binding. All those before had been so selfish of their power over this djinn, they had hidden the vessel rather than pass it along to anyone else. This would be his last cycle. None of the brothers had filled the Well yet, but Bael and Asteroth were close, he could sense it. He knew that he was so far behind them in the fucked up game that they were a part of, he would never be able to catch up. He didn’t know how they had found such powerful Bound to link with in prior cycles, but Dantalion was resigned to being destroyed at some point in the next few years, if not sooner. He had been in existence for thousands of years, but now he was on borrowed time. All of these thoughts swirled in his mind as he realized that in a moment, he would meet his 12thand last Bound. It was a bittersweet feeling that he felt in his mind. He would do his duty, obey the law, fill his Well as best he could, and then await destruction. He knew that if he had not filled his Well by the end of the 12th cycle, he would just simply cease to exist. In 11 cycles, his Well was only half full. He would do his best, as always, but there was a sinking feeling deep inside of him. No time for that now. He needed to make a good impression to assure the new Bound would accept his offer. He quieted his mind and continued to swirl in his vessel. ****************************************************************************************** Trevor held the small clay blob in his hand. It was hollow from the lightness of it. There was a small hole in the top, which had been plugged with a stone and sealed with wax. He was confused. What was in there that was so special? Maybe the jar was some ancient relic of museum quality. Maybe there was nothing in there at all. He was curious though. Curious about why his grandfather would think of giving him this and why his grandma was so brusque about it. He got a knife from the kitchen and started whittling away at the wax. He needed to get that stone out. On closer inspection, it appeared to be a green gem set in the hole – a bit cloudy in its clarity, but still lustrous. He kept chipping away at the wax. Maybe he could sell the gem to a jeweler if anything. Finally, he was able to remove the stone. He shook the jar. Nothing inside. He was more confused now than ever. Sitting the jar down, he just shook his head. Weird. He was sitting on the edge of his bed and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Dantalion emerged slowly from the jar in a wisp of whitish blue mist. He was tentative. He had met the man who would become his 12thBound before and knew that a brash show would just serve to frighten. He was calculated in his approach. The mist became more condensed. Dantalion began to speak softly, gently, and soothingly. “Trevor. Trevor. We need to talk.” Trevor heard his name and sat up with a start. He saw a man, thin, tall…familiar, forming I front of him. The mist increased in density. It almost appeared solid now. Before him stood his grandfather’s diligent and devoted assistant impeccably dressed in a dark suit, mid-twenties, thin, wearing stylish glasses in an attractive boy-next door way. What the fuck? “Trevor, we need to talk.” He soothingly spoke again as he became solid. Real. “What the fuck is this?” Trevor’s voice was shaking and had a terrified look in his eyes. “Trevor, I am here to bind with you like I did with your grandfather. I will satisfy every desire you have, within the confines of djinn law.” Trevor looked at Dantalion with caution, like he was in the room with a hungry lion he did not want to offend. Trevor found shook his head and pinched his arm. He wasn’t dreaming apparently. “I know you. You’re my grandfather’s assistant, Dante. Wait, what do you mean ‘bind’ with me?” He had always thought of Dante as cute, maybe not as cute as him, but pleasant to look at. He’d look better with more muscle. “Have you heard of the djinn? Genies?” “The fuck you are!” Trevor spat out at the man he knew as Dante. “I was able to grant your grandfather’s greatest desires of knowledge. But he did not take full advantage of my capabilities. My power is without measure or your ability to comprehend. I can fulfill your wildest dreams, within confines of djinn law.” Trevor looked at him apprehensively. “You keep saying ‘within the confines of djinn law’. What does that mean?” Dantalion/Dante approached the bed slowly as not to scare the human before him. He had this discussion with 11 men before, and was able to eventually get through their disbelief and explain himself. “I have immeasurable power to give what you desire, but there are regulations and laws that I must abide by…too many to discuss tonight. But I can answer any question that you have as they arise. For now, you can ask three wishes of me before you decide if you would like to bind to me.” The man stood there looking down on Trevor. His eyes, Trevor suddenly noticed, were red-orange like a fire, flickering as a small flame and deep as an endless pit. He felt as if the deep pools of dark flames were hypnotizing him as he stared at the djinn’s countenance. Of course he remembered that the djinn were fire spirits. At least that is what he knew from his college course on Mythology. “So I get three wishes to decide if I want to “bind” with you? We’ll talk about what that means soon I hope.” Trevor paused, “I admit I’m a bit confused.” “Make a wish. I need you to know what I can do for you.” Dantalion used his most soothing calm voice. But there was a pleading quality to it. Trevor couldn’t look away from Dantalion’s eyes. “I wish I had some coffee, black, 180 degrees, 16 ounces in a thermal cup.” A cup of coffee appeared on the bed stand, which Trevor picked up and sipped. It was amazingly perfect. “You can do better than that, Trevor.” Dantalion was a bit annoyed that his new master’s first wish was to make him an errand boy. He would definitely not put any mana into his Well with this sort of imagination. Trevor looked at the coffee. His mind started to run wild. He had imagined this type of power from 6 years old. Reading stories of Aladdin, or the short stories of Middle East philosophy, The Arabian Nights and others, he had been enamored of the idea. But to actually have it manifest in his bedroom was overwhelming. Trevor, for some reason, began to feel a bit aroused. What if this was real? Geez, he’d jacked off to the thought of having an all-powerful genie grant him three wishes. He thought he knew exactly what he would do back then, but most of them involved muscle and sex. His brow began to sweat. He started to feel his cock push against his dark slacks. He was still in his funeral attire. “God, I can’t believe this is happening to me. Today. Now.” But his mind continued to flit across the many dreams, wishes, hopes that he had banked in all 23 years of his life, most of those created with his right hand around his hard cock. He gulped and remembered the words written on the paper his grandfather left him ‘Ask questions.’ “Can you change your body? Can you change my body?” He could barely believe that is how the conversation started. There were certainly many more pressing things to ask. Dantalion took a step toward Trevor and said, “Yes” in a low grumbling tone. “But I cannot assume the form of a woman. It is against djinn law.” “Well, who said I wanted you to be a woman? That’s an odd assumption.” Trevor sat up straight and grabbed the warm coffee on the nightstand. “And you can change my body?” “Only in any way imaginable that you see fit…Master.” Dantalion knew he had to be careful here. Other djinn law forbade him to make himself or his Bound too conspicuous. That is how they had stayed hidden for centuries. “I can change your physical being into anything you can imagine, within the con…” “Ya, ‘within the confines of djinn law.’ I get it. But what does that mean?” Dantalion took one more step toward him. He looked his soon-to-be Bound in the eyes. He could feel the flames licking his eyelids. His weak, thin, form that he had been possessing in his previous cycle was so inadequate for what he needed to show the 12th. But he needed to be patient. “It means, ultimately, that as long as you do not draw too much attention to yourself, you don’t have limits. I don’t have limits. One of the primary laws states that undue attention should not be drawn to the djinn or his Bound. “ Trevor licked his lips and his mind switched gears instantly. “Ok. I wish that you would, without drawing too much attention, as this seems very problematic for you, put 5 million dollars into my bank account. It can be over as long as 6 months – as not to alarm anyone.” Dantalion turned away and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can do that.” He realized that Trevor, his last Bound would be like all the others. Selfish, yes, he expected that…but also foolish, myopic, and infantile in the ability to understand what power they truly possessed when enlisting his services. He would be blotted out now, he was sure – his Well only half-full and that would be the end of his existence. “You can do that, Dante?” “I have started the process already. I have invested the sum of your meager savings account into stock that I will deftly control over the next 6 months, should I survive that long. You will have 5 million dollars in your investment account before the end of those 6 months.” Dantalion stood tall, still in the dark business suit he wore as Wallace’s assistant. Trevor looked a bit perplexed. He heard every word that Dante had said, but he also picked up on the “should I survive that long” part. He would ask about that later too. He started looking carefully at the djinn. He was so poised, confident but almost shy and thin in a healthy way. Maybe the word was ‘deferential.’ “Is this your true form?” Trevor looked into the eyes of his djinn. He knew that he would accept the binding. He could feel it inside of himself. His grandfather had bequeathed this gift to him. But he wanted to know a bit more – curiosity and all. “No, this is not my true form. I have two actually. The form of the mist and the form of physicality. The form of the mist is how I am able to reside in my vessel for thousands of years on end without outside interactions. It is a distillation of my consciousness. The form of physicality is my true form when I am extended out of my vessel. It is against djinn law to show you my physical form until we are bound.” “Do you have a sense of right and wrong? Standard philosophy or ethics? Things like that?” Dantalion took one more step toward the bed. He was nearly shin-to-shin with Trevor who had remained seated. “I do not have the ethics of a human. Because of that, I can serve every desire you may have. If you wish for me to pull the very continent of Atlantis from the bottom of the sea, I can do that, regardless of ethics, and in such a way that it would be explainable scientifically. I can crush all of the armies of the world in a matter of minutes and make it appear to be self-inflicted or one army pitted against another that could be explained.” Dantalion appeared to be getting excited just thinking about accomplishing these feats of wonder. He wantedto use his limitless power. “I do not have your morals. It allows me to fulfill your human desires whatever they may be. There are no judgments.” Dantalion spoke in a low rumbling purr. Trevor gulped as he stared into the eyes of the man he knew as Dante. His mouth was suddenly dry. The embers of Dantalion’s eyes licked his pupils and bore into the young man sitting before him. In his current form, he appeared to be near the same age. Trevor appeared maybe a bit more muscular. With Dante’s tailored well-fitted suit, he just looked very thin. His mind was racing, darting around to late night jack off sessions on the internet, a thousand morphed photos of different dream men he would love to fuck and be fucked by, stories of strength and muscle growth, and cock growth and …. Beads of sweat continued to form on his upper lip and forehead. His breath became shallow and ragged as his mind spun fantasy upon fantasy. His respectable 7” cock began to push against his well-fitted square cut briefs even more than before. He had imagined this moment in so many of his fantasies. For his third and final wish before accepting the binding, he wanted to know if it were true. Dantalion could not read the man’s mind but he felt that something was coming. Some powerful urge was rising. A heavy-weighted door was unlocking and creaking open in the deepest recesses of Trevor’s mind and Dantalion could see it on his face and see it in his cock. He felt that the next words that were spoken would determine that trajectory of his 12thand final binding. Somehow he just intuitively knew – this one would be different. Trevor hastily formed a wish and he knew it wasn’t going to be perfectly formed and he didn’t care. If Dante could make this come true, he would be able to bind with him and have endless wishes. “I wish that your body grew to 8 feet tall and that your arms became so large with dense, hard, striated muscle that they reached from floor to ceiling. Your skin so thin that a single sheet of paper would think it was too thick in comparison. These are 12-foot ceilings. You think you can do that, Dante?” He could feel his hard dick getting bigger and bigger, pulsing with unabashed curiosity and desire to see his third wish come true. Dante looked at Trevor with perplexity. None of his other Bound had asked him to demonstrate control over his own presentation unless it had been to terrify an enemy. Those before had wanted money, military defeats, the building of great structures…and more recently, knowledge. But this man was different. Something was very very unique as he looked in the man’s eyes and saw the man’s penis growing, throbbing, fighting with his trousers. “Curious,” he thought to himself. He nodded. “Yes, I can do that for you.” ****************************************************************************************** There was a pregnant pause between the two. Dantalion was attempting to read Trevor’s body language. He didn’t know the human well enough yet. “Would you like to instruct me on how to fulfill your wish, or would you like me to take…liberties?” Trevor’s breath caught in his throat. This was actually going to happen. “Can I instruct you for the beginning? Then maybe you can take ‘liberties.’” “You can do whatever you desire. I exist to serve you,” the genie rumbled. Dantalion and his deep flaming eyes looked down at Trevor on the bed. He sensed something close to supplication from the human, near worship. A pleading flicked across his face - A desire that Dantalion probed and where he found great depth. He, of course could not read the mind of the 12thunless granted access, but he could feel the edges of it with his expanded mind. Dantalion had been around humans for thousands of years and knew how to pick up on behaviors. The 12thwas seeping into the wildest recesses of his desires. Fuck, he could feel the energy building as Trevor contemplated how to begin. This one was so incredibly different, he repeated silently to himself. “I want to see you naked, first” Dantalion’s clothes vanished just as the last word left Trevor’s mouth. The djinn’s body was tight, thin, lean, and beautiful in a marathon runner sort of way. His skin the color of a summertime tan and his hair shortly cropped and a light sandy brown. “Over the course of 30 seconds, pleasegrow to 8 foot tall, same dimensions you have now.” Dantalion paused. He had rarely, maybe never, hear the word “please” when directed at him. Another something new. His naked thin body kept the same dimensions as before as he slowly expanded. He stopped thinking about what might be going on in Trevor’s head. He was in the middle of wish-granting and a djinn took that very seriously. He waited for his next command as he reached the 8-foot mark. Trevor, for all of his attempts to remain calm, looked at the tower of man in front of him and realized that this was all real and that his most depraved and wild fantasies could become flesh. His cock began to expel pre-cum into his trousers wicked away by his tight square cut briefs. Dantalion could smell something sweet. The beginnings of sex in the air. He had experienced that with previous Bound as they celebrated victories, defeats, destruction of enemies – but they had all been with harems of women, not directed toward him or when he was alone with his master. He was curious again. After thousands of years, he didn’t know curiosity would be so exhilarating. Trevor’s voice was again becoming ragged, shallow, pressured. He loved arms, he loved forearms, he love pecs, he loved lats and traps, he loved glutes (shit, he loved glutes), he loved quads and hamstrings, he loved delts, and he loved calves. He loved all muscle. He picked one of the many. “Please, increase your biceps and triceps to 30 inches around over the course of 30 seconds. The skin should remain thin and nothing thicker than single ply plastic cling film. And I want veins. Lots of veins on the surface to feed your growing muscles.” Trevor could barely breath. Did he just say that out loud to a stranger – even worse, his grandfather’s assistant now standing in front of him naked. Dantalion and his flame-licked eyes focused on Trevor’s face, on his erection pushing pre-spunk out in a slow stream, on the smell of need and desire in the air around them. He looked at his right arm then left and started growing them. He had never been asked for this expression of his own physicality. It was new and somehow excited him on a profound level. His biceps began to grow quickly and the skin covering his arms became somehow even thinner. Dantalion’s triceps quickly formed multiple bellies with striations so detailed, it appears that they were constructed of thousands of threads of fishing line, all writhing underneath the skin. Dante’s arms were stunning and perfectly symmetrical with a 30” exact diameter. They were the vision of pure raging power. But Trevor’s wish was just beginning. Ok, now to 80 inches in diameter,” he looked with a ravenous hunger at Dante’s arms. The djinn’s biceps grew and blossomed. Trevor, now standing up, reached to feel Dantalion’s growing arms and the djinn humbly leaned forward to allow him access to the change that was occurring. Trevor could feel the muscle fibers dividing quickly. It felt as if he had his hand over a steel morning-bloomed flower who’s petals keep unfurling over and over and over, cycle after cycle. Trevor peered at Dante’s right arm and saw skin so thin, he could actually see the beefy red muscle cells underneath. Veins as delicate as spider’s webs covered the blossoming biceps and triceps. Several thick radiator hose sized veins surfaced slowly, running along the top of the arms and the inside from the elbows to Dante’s armpits. Somehow, veins 3 inches in diameter seemed right…and HOT. “Now, I want to see those fucking arms to go from floor to ceiling,” he spoke softly and with a moan afterward. 10 seconds later and the arms of the god in front of him had grown to a size that Trevor had to back up and sit on his bed again. Dantalion’s arms had grown so much; his monstrous triceps were contacting the floor and causing his still thin, yet very tall, body to rise off of the ground. The twin biceps continued to escalate toward the ceiling, the fibers dividing endlessly without pause, all visible thanks to the paper’s width skin Trevor had requested. The veins of Dante’s arms continued to grow thicker and more plentiful. Trevor could now see them pulsing and writhing pumping growth juice into every individual cell. Dante was taking “liberties” with how he presented himself in this way. He eyed Trevor and saw the smaller man studying the webbing of the vessels, the constant replication of muscle cells, and also saw him rubbing his cock that continued to crawl down the leg of his tight trousers. His new-to-be Bound had said he was 7” when hard. He was clearly 8” now. What did that mean? Dante knew he was doing something right. For Trevor, this was the culmination of so many wet dreams. This was better because it was real. Finally, as the growth slowed, Trevor looked up at Dantalion’s face suspended in mid-air, body elevated several feet off the ground thanks to the titanic triceps bellies writhing underneath and pressing into the floor. The arms that he requested took up more than half of the bedroom. But something was off. “Dante, will you grant me another wish, just so that I can see how glorious you are?” Pulse, pulse, pulse went Trevor’s dick. He wanted to take it out and start beating in right there. “I will grant you one final wish before you decide on your binding to me,” he rumbled while looking down on the man below. “Dante, I wish that your forearms, hands, and deltoids were proportional to your arms. You may take liberties.” Without warning, an eruption of muscle so powerful and swift occurred that Trevor was blown towards the far wall. Just before he collided, he felt the newly enormous right hand of Dantalion catch him more softly and gently than he would have believed. He felt the giant 3 foot wide mitt draw back toward the wall-sized pulsating muscle that had just exploded with mass. “Trevor, have I pleased you?” Dante’s voice was powerful and deep like one million earthquakes but also curious, cautious, submissive. Trevor was beginning to lose his grip on reality. His breath was becoming more shallow. Trevor looked down on the 40” forearms riveted with throbbing arterials pulsating in rhythm with Dante’s heartbeat. WAIT, they were pulsating with Trevor’s own heartbeat, mimicking his pulse rate. Fucking crazy. Dante’s deltoids rose to near ceiling height, just shorter than the unbelievable mountain range of the biceps peaks - jagged, gnarled, but somehow perfectly balanced. “Can I touch you?” Trevor asked in a whisper. “You can do what ever you would like with me, Trevor,” Dantalion breathed into his hand where Trevor was seated struggling to maintain control. “You own this body and everything that it can do.” It was obvious from Dantalion’s innocence that he did not understand the weight of his comments on Trevor’s mind. In and other place that comment would be a proposition. In matters of sex and attraction, Dante was a child. Trevor reached out to touch the throbbing, hard, indestructible wall of muscle in front of him. He made contact and then pulled down his pants. Dante’s skin felt like warm buttery silk. The fibers beneath like steel cables an engineer would use to suspend a bridge. A groan so loud that it actually surprised both himself AND the djinn burst forth from Trevor’s mouth. “FUCKIN YES! Make my dreams come true, you fucking beast!!!” Shot after shot of Trevor’s cum hit Dantalion. His enormous hands and forearms were covered with cum and rivulets of seed collected in the crevices of the djinn’s enlarged hands. A certain quite fell onto the room. Dantalion felt so alive, so energized, so different than he had felt with any other Bound – and they had not made the binding yet. This was all so new and unexpected. Trevor leaned back into the giant paw that held him off of the ground. He was still recovering from the longest, most intense, most reality based orgasm of his life. “Trevor, do you bind yourself to me? I can fulfill this and infinitely more wishes based on your need and desires.” All that Trevor could see was walls of throbbing angry hard dense muscle. “Fuck ya, I want to bind with you. I won’t let your power be wasted.” Thoughts of just a few minutes earlier pummeled his mind. So much power, so much muscle, so much of everything he had beat off to for years. Laws, regulations, and more complicated stuff he couldn’t consider at the moment. “How do we do this ritual?” Trevor’s voice was sure and steady. Dantalion smiled and the flames dancing in his eyes flared and began to burn blue. “You must start by calling me by my true name: Dantalion, not Dante. I will do the rest.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 1: Move-in day your freshman year of college is nerve-wracking for everyone. But for me, it was doubly so. Like most other freshmen at my midwestern university, I was moving into a dorm on campus. My new roommate had been assigned randomly via a lottery. All I knew was his name, email, plus what little I could glean from social media. Not much. Frank Ryan, from Dallas, Texas. His only profile photo (if it was even his) was a thumbnail image of a high school football player mid-play. I couldn't really make out what he looked like. For 18-year-old me, a total nerd with an unhealthy obsession with muscle-bound jocks, this was more than enough to make my heart pound and my imagination reel. After Frank was assigned as my roommate in July, I had sent him a long email: How excited I was to be roommates, where I'm from, what I'll be studying, logistical details about my arrival, etc. His reply back was terse. Sounds good man - looking fwd. I move in 1 day b4 u Frank Gulp. --- I was moving all by myself. My parents lived in California and couldn't fly out with me. So when I arrived at the residence hall (buzzing with activity from all the other arrivals), it was just me lugging two enormous suitcases, drenched with sweat from the effort. I got to the door of my room, 201B. I heard the sound of someone's feet inside, plus another buzzing noise I couldn't recognize. There was a faint, manly aroma in the air. Should I knock? I asked myself. I decided I should. I gently tapped the door. No answer. I knocked harder. No answer. Then I pounded the door, but got no response. I lurked outside for a few minutes, unsure what to do. I took a deep breath and decided to go in. The door was unlocked. "HELLO?" I said, to announce myself. "Frank?" I walked in and saw what remains, to this day, the most shocking image of my life. A monstrous, shirtless man was standing with his back to me. His olive-skinned body looked genuinely unreal -- impossible to describe how much muscle hung on his enormous frame. I gauged he was probably 6'4, but his slightly hairy back looked almost as wide as he was tall. Even more startling than his back was his ass, which was so large it literally sucked his XXL gym shorts into its crack, so I could see each globe of his bubble butt in amazing detail. He was standing barefoot on a grey towel, even his calves bulging unnaturally. The muscle freak had noise-canceling headphones on (which explained why he hadn't heard me knocking). I heard a buzzing noise and saw he was holding a hair trimmer. I realized he was standing in front of the mirror, buzzing his chest. As I stepped into the small room, he still hadn't heard me. I smelled the intoxicating scent of sweat, as if there were clouds of testosterone in the air. "HELLO?" I said again, my voice quavering. He didn't turn around, but kept bouncing his head (which looked tiny compared to his body) to the music playing in his headphones. I crept closer, and suddenly caught sight of his eyes in the mirror reflection. Startled, he whipped his massive body around. The room was so small -- and his reaction was so quick -- that his bare, left pec slammed right into my face with tremendous force. I flew backwards three feet and landed on my ass. "Frank?" I said as I stood up. "It's me, James. Your roommate." "James?! FUCK! You scared the shit out of me, dude!" A voice to match his body: Deep. Hyper-masculine. Unreal. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "I knocked a bunch of times, but you had your headphones in." My eyes made their way up to Frank's face. I actively tried to ignore what I saw: a face that looked like a young Henry Cavill, only with a buzz-cut and a thick, dark beard. My new roommate was a Mr. Olympia-sized bodybuilder. That was enough for now. I couldn't deal with the fact that he had a perfect face, too. "No worries, man," he said, smiling, his voice so deep it sent a jolt of pleasure right to my dick. His eyes were gleaming. "Great to meet you. Sorry to bump into you. And for the mess. I was just trimming my chest..." I now noticed the pile of dark body hair on the towel on the floor, and that his HUGE pecs were trimmed on one side, dark and furry on the other. This guy was 18?! "It's fine. I didn't know you'd be so...so..." Now I couldn't take my eyes off his pecs. They were only a foot or so from my face. Eye level. I wanted to touch them more than anything in the world. I started to blush. Veiny. Hairy. Juicy. One of them twitched involuntarily. I thought I might faint. Frank helped me out: "So big? Yeah, I'm starting as a lineman on the football team. Been bulking up this summer -- gained 50 pounds!" Frank flexed right arm. "Yeaaa buddy!" The shockingly defined bicep that formed must have been 24 inches, at least. "Holy shit..." I mumbled. I was starting to feel dizzy. I craned up my neck to look him in the eye, so I wouldn't get a hard-on from staring at his body. But his face was so handsome that I went even more red. "Anyway, I'm glad you're finally here, because I wanted to tell you something. You see how the bunk bed is all fucked up?" Those shoulders. Each one was the size of a basketball. That beard. That voice. It was so ridiculously deep. Barely sounded human. It was like every time he spoke, someone was caressing my dick. "James, you there?" "Huh?" I said. "You spaced out there for a sec. You got distracted?" He smiled and winked, and bounced his pecs -- more innocent than arrogant. "Anyway, I was saying -- you see how the bed is all fucked up?" I now noticed that the bunk bed was indeed fucked up. Instead of being stacked vertically, both beds were laid side by side, almost touching each other. They left almost no floorspace in the small room. Frank continued: "Well, when I got here, they said that we had to set it up this way. It turns out I'm too heavy for the bunks. It's a safety hazard if you're over 300 pounds because they might collapse when two people get in them. I'm 320. Can you believe that shit? So they made me move them side by side. I don't really care, it's fine this way, but I wanted you to know in case you mind crawling over my bed to get to yours. It's fine if you want to swap roommates with someone else. They might still let you." "NO! It's fine! I don't mind," I said with far too much enthusiasm. "You sure? I know it's annoying." "Don't worry," I assured him. "Cool, I appreciate you being so chill about it. Here, let me help with your stuff." Before I could object, Frank bolted out the hallway door, bubble butt bouncing behind him, and grabbed both my enormous bags. As if they weighed no more than feathers, he dropped them in the room and closed the door. There was barely any space in the room. His pecs were once again mere inches from my face. I couldn't decide which I loved more, the furry one or the buzzed one. "Don't want to let the AC out," he said. "You mind if I finish this up while you're unpacking?" he asked, pointing down to his half-furry, half-buzzed torso. "No, not at all." I realized I had little chest hairs all over my face, from where his sweaty pec had slapped into me. I turned my back to Frank and unpacked my stuff, or tried to. I could barely think. I was just picking things up, putting them back down, in a daze. My hands were shaking. I tried to pretend that a bearded, 18-year-old, 320-pound, super-heavyweight bodybuilder wasn't trimming his body hair three feet away. As if I couldn't hear him wheezing. Fuck, even the way he held the beard trimmer in his giant paws was hot. Then I noticed all the jock paraphernalia littered around the room: Protein powder, creatine, trophies, supplements, a white jockstrap hanging on the door handle, a football helmet, bodybuilding magazines, a sweaty wife-beater on the floor. Was that a cum rag in the corner? I realized how intense the smell in the room was. Not mildewy or sour. A rich, earthy, masculine musk. Pure pheromones. Against my concerted will, my cock started to harden. Out of nowhere, Frank's massive, calloused hand clasped my entire shoulder. I gasped and spun around to face him. His twitchy, veiny pecs -- fully buzzed now -- were four inches from my face. The dark bristly chest hair looked like it was already starting to grow back. It took all the self-control I had not to bury my face in them. "Hey man," Frank said, his voice serious and deep. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about. Maybe we can sit down." I sat down on the bed, my arms covering my lap to hide my throbbing erection. Frank sat down right beside me, no personal space at all. The bed creaked loudly. His arousing smell was even more intense up close. Plus, somehow, his mounds of muscle looked even freakier seated and relaxed. Each of his hairy, veiny arms was thicker than my leg. Despite the serious expression on his face, my cock was starting to leak. "Look," he began, looking into my eyes earnestly. "You seem like a really chill guy, and, uh, there's something I, uh...I wanted to..." He trailed off. Was HE nervous? I couldn't believe this monster who could rip my arm off was stammering. "There's something you want to tell me?" I looked up from Frank's six pack, his perfect, heaving pecs, past his bulging, gorilla-like neck, his thick beard and sensual lips, and locked eyes with him. HE was blushing! "Yeah. It's something I haven't told many people about. But I've been thinking... New school, new roommate... I ought to warn you, in case you're not cool with it." "Warn me about what?" "I'm, uh... I'm...Um..." He was crimson red now. He hunched over, looking defeated, yet this posture only made his bare muscles look more swollen and unreal. When he lifted his arm up to scratch his forehead nervously, a 24-inch peak formed, and dark bushels of pit hair released an even stronger musk. I gasped. "It's OK, Frank, you can tell me." As I spoke, I reached out and touched his hairy shoulder. I was both desperate to touch his body and trying to be reassuring. Yet the muscle felt so rock-hard that I gulped with disbelief. "I'm... I'm....You should know I'm... I'm into, uh, into, um... Other... guys." "You're gay?" I said, shell-shocked. Now he was not just blushing, his lip was quivering. He looked like he might cry. But his eyes remained locked with mine, almost bravely. "I just thought it might be weird for you, sharing a room with... with... Well...I wanted to warn you." I sighed. "Well, I appreciate the warning. But it's not an issue, Frank." His eyes brightened. He smiled. So fucking adorable, I thought. "It's not?" "No, it's not a problem. Gay guys and straight guys get paired up all the time. It's not like being gay means you can't control yourself around your roommate." God, I thought to myself, I'm proof of this: How badly I wanted to kiss him right now. "I was so worried to tell you," he said. "Last month when you emailed me, I almost thought of telling you then. There are only a few other people I've ever mentioned it to. No one on the football team knows. They all assume I'm straight, because, you know." He gestured at his 320 pounds of beefy, barely clothed muscle. My throat went dry. "To be honest, Frank," I said, "I probably should have said something, too. It would have been a lot easier for you. I'm into guys too." His eyes widened. "WHAT!? You serious!?" "Uh, yeah..." "You're kidding me. You are too?" "Yep! Small world, right? Or whatever the expression... You know what I mean." Frank's mind looked completely blown. "You're fucking with me." "No, I am not." "Bro...That makes me so happy." "Me too. Honestly, I also felt a little worried about being paired with a straight guy. Wasn't sure how he'd react." "Dude..." He trailed off, and his eyes looked me up and down. Was he checking me out? Suddenly, Frank pulled me in for a bear hug. I felt the abrasive texture of his chest stubble, the pecs hard as granite, breathed in his sweaty musk. "I'm just so happy how this turned out," he said. My dick went from semi to rock hard in about one second, well beyond my control. I mean, a bare-chested bodybuilder the size of a Mr. Olympia was hugging me. I felt mortified. Even then, at 18, I knew I was quite hung, about 8 inches, and that my hard-on would be conspicuous. Yet his grasp was so strong, his musk so heavenly, there was nothing I could do but squeeze him tighter. Then I felt it. Frank's cock was hard too. 9 or 10 inches, from the feel of it. Suddenly I realized that Frank wasn't hugging me. He was groping me. His hands were squeezing my ass, my lower back, the back of my neck. He was wheezing, moaning, in a horned up kind of way. "Fuck ya, fuck bro... fuck ya..." he muttered quietly. I felt his thick beard and tongue caressing my neck, smelled the beautiful pheromones that wafted from his hairy pits. Then he started kissing me on the mouth, his tongue gentler than I would have expected. I was in such a state of shock that I didn't even reciprocate. I just let him grope me and kiss me, held captive in his beastly arms, my eyes wide open. The situation had escalated faster than I ever could have imagined. It had only been 10 minutes since I learned that the biggest, sexiest, hairiest muscle freak I'd ever seen was going to be my college roommate. Now he was kissing me, squeezing me, caressing my dick with his strong hands, pulling off my clothes... Frank shoved my face into his cleavage. Each pec was the size of a textbook. I sucked on his nipples in ecstacy. "AHH FUCK BRO!" he moaned -- so loud that I was sure the R.A. down the hall would hear it. As I did, it occurred to me that Frank had probably not met many other openly gay men. I might have even been the first. Maybe he thought that it was automatic for two guys -- once it was established that they were both gay -- to go at it like rabbits. (How ironic, I thought, that this hyper-sexualized muscle god probably had less experience in bed than I did.) Frank's naivete and eagerness, while perhaps a little sad, were also charming -- and flattering. Everything I did, like kissing his neck, or brushing my hand over his shaft, elicited ten times more arousal than I was expecting it to. When I slipped my hand into his gym shorts and cupped his grapefruit-sized balls, pre-cum gushed from his cock. "Fuck yeah dude. AW! AW! AW!" Moaning louder than ever, Frank laid me out on one of the beds. The mattress was bare. (Whether it was his bed or mine, I wasn't sure yet). He pinned me down -- his buzzed, veiny muscles looking even freakier as they writhed on top of me. The 18-year-old mountain of muscle kissed my neck, my lips, with more passion than I would have ever felt entitled to. His cock, which turned out to be more like 10.5 inches -- as superlative as the body it was attached to -- had burst out of his gym shorts, and pressed against my abdomen, still leaking a stream of pre. I could tell we were both close to cumming. Yet something in me snapped. I regained my senses. "Frank. FRANK. Wait a minute." I rolled him over onto his back. The bed frame squealed. I sat up on top of his teardrop-shaped super-quads, looking down at his surprised expression. From this angle, a giant shelf of pec meat obfuscated part of his face. His shockingly well-defined six pack pulsed in and out as he breathed heavily. His cock oozed more pre. "What?" he asked. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" "What do you mean? I thought you said you were gay." "Yeah, but I'm your roommate. Is hooking up... you know... a bad move?" "What... You...You... don't like me?" His face looked heartbroken and insecure, even while he propped up his head with a twitching 24-inch bicep. "No, no, that's not it at all, Frank!" He brushed me off from on top of him. I almost flew off the bed. Then he petulantly turned his back to me, so he was lying on his side facing the wall. The bed creaked and screeched. Even then, when I was afraid about having upset him, I was amazed by the muscles on display. My throat went dry. Frank's lats were so wide that his back soared several feet in the air, like a ship's sail. Each globe of his ass was the size of a watermelon. His weight made the whole mattress slope down towards his side. The force of gravity pressed me right against his back. "Am I too big for you?" he said, muffled, with his mutant lats to me. Was he crying? "What? No!" "People always get freaked out by me. Guys, girls... They think I'm going to hurt them or something..." he said. I caressed his traps gently. I couldn't believe this was the same muscle group that connected to my own neck. On him, they looked as wide and strong as a horse bridle. It was like he had a different anatomy than other human beings... Despite my grandstanding about not hooking up, I was still hard, and in fact, pretty close to cumming. I attempted to refocus. "Frank, c'mon. Turn around. Look at me," I said tenderly. He flipped onto his other side to face me. His weight caused such a large dip in the mattress that my face flew right into his sweaty pecs. I pushed myself out and looked him in the eyes. His veiny neck must have been 18 inches round, but his face looked surprisingly boyish and hurt. I tried not to look down at the unreal chest, cock and quads that were just inches away from me, totally naked now. "It's not that I'm freaked out by you," I said, not entirely honestly. Frank's muscles were extreme even by pro bodybuilding standards. He was 320 pounds, but he couldn't have had body fat above 5%. I didn't understand how an 18 year old could be this huge. How many years had he been on steroids? "You're not?" "Well, no. To be honest with you, Frank, I've always been into muscle. Like...Really into muscle. As long as I can remember. In fact, when I walked in here and saw you, I felt like I was dreaming. When I was 13, I used to steal bodybuilding magazines from 7-11 and jerk off to the photos. And you're bigger than any of them. You're bigger than Jay Cutler or Nick Walker or Big Ramy. And you're better looking, too. You're the hottest person I've ever met -- no, ever seen -- in my entire life." Frank's eyes brightened. I continued: "The thing is, just, uh... We're roommates. So I'm worried it's a bad idea to hook up.. You know... Maybe it will get awkward?" Now Frank raised a devilish eyebrow. "You like muscle?" he said, smiling. It occurred to me I had never admitted my obsession to anyone else before, even though it occupied me every hour of every day. "Mhm," I said. "You know what I'm into? Handsome, sexy, smart guys. Like you." (My heart almost stopped.) "When you walked in and I got a look at you, I didn't know how I'd be able to keep it in my pants all year bro. You're totally my type. And if you think for one second we're not going to hook up, just because we're roommates...When you're into muscle..." Now Frank flexed an arm with a cocky energy that made my head spin. "You think I'm big now? I'm just getting started. I'll be 350 by winter break. And if you think you're not going to worship these muscles, feel them up every single night, suck on them, cuddle them..." he shoved the peak, then his pit, into my face, suffocating me. I immediately came. Warm cum gushed all over the bare mattress and Frank's six pack. Frank got up and straddled me. He still flexed with one arm, jerked his enormous cock with the other. His weight was almost unbearable. "If you think we're not going to fuck every night... If you think we're not going to jerk off together every morning..." His face grew flushed as he tugged on his shaft, one bicep still flexed in a crazy peak. He slurped on his own arm. "AH, AH, UH, UH, UH!!" He sprayed a firehose of cum all over me, drenching my face and torso. I tasted it, a beautiful, sweet, salty taste, and swallowed it. Winking, he climbed off me, and drew me into his swollen arms. -- That day, we moved the two beds right next to each other, so they were basically connected. From then on, we cuddled every night of freshman year. I wouldn't say we were boyfriends. Not exactly. Our relationship only existed inside our dorm room. Outside of it, Frank was the ultimate football jock, the biggest muscle freak the campus had ever known. Most people got chills of fear (or arousal) when he waddled in a room. If anyone even suspected that Frank was gay, he would have been too afraid to say it out loud. Yet as soon as he'd close the dorm room door, Frank would rip his shirt off, kiss me passionately, straddle me with his hard cock bouncing up and down. Nor did I mind this arrangement. On the contrary, I loved knowing that he was all mine. Who would dare hit on him? I'd race home from the library or class, he'd come home from practice or a frat party, and we'd roll around in bed for hours. It never got old. I didn't even JO anymore. What was the point? The biggest, hottest, most hung man imaginable was sleeping next to me every night. I worshipped everything about Frank, even the things that would turn most people off. The constant meals of ground meat and rice. (Every two hours. Every day. From 8am to 11pm.) The vials of tren. (I even helped him inject it.) The snoring. The wheezing. The body hair. The musk. The roid gut. The slightly receding hairline from so much gear. It all drove me crazy. Frank wasn't kidding about getting bigger. He gained forty pounds in four months, pushing his weight up to 360. He lost some of the definition in his abs, yet I liked him even better this way. His cheeks got fuller, while his pecs and ass grew grotesquely large, like oversized balloons about to burst. Once or twice a month, he'd come home with the seat of his XXL shorts ripped apart. Like the creaking bed we shared, our relationship somehow, miraculously, stayed in one piece. I knew it couldn't last forever -- yet I also knew I'd probably never have this much fun again.

The capacity for mixed feelings is a quality of a mature mind, @mario2007so I thank you. I do feel sorry for my Employee of the Month fans who have wandered in here and are like: What the fuck is this shit?

Oh I hope it's the opposite! I want Carnitas to get in, be seduced by steamroller, become actually brainwashed by it, a true devotee of it. Shaw has to pull him out of the cult etc.

Beautifully crafted brutality. I will miss Vinny Crisco’s sadistic sneering malevolence though!

This chapter was a gripping roller coaster. First: the description of the chase scene really got my blood pumping lol. So much action, so much excitement! Loved it. To see Carnitas' strength, as he crashed the car with a tackle- oh my! (But let's not forget Brick's acrobatics.) The diner scene? If Quentin was gay he might have creamed his pants at that hehe. Am I starting to fall for Lieutenant Flint? Who knows (fawns himself). I also like the evolving dynamic between Brick and Carnitas. This chapter might have strengthened their bond as partners (even though some small part of me hopes, these two will make some hot, sweaty love at the end lol.) The fact that the voice of our BUFF ALPHA "POP-U-BITCH" PERP is in Carnitas' brain is a cool, but unsettling detail. Raises the question: if THE STUD and Carnitas finally meet, will the Detective be able to put the guy down or submit to his lust? All in all: I really liked this chapter! @Broody

Part 0 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It was still cold outside when I enter the corridor of the public swimming hall. I was in my second year of university when I decided to join the swimming club. I wasn’t built for swimming. I enjoyed weight lifting and wrestling. Well… and growing in every aspect possible. But my doctor told me I could use the extra cardio to get my blood pumping once a week. Most of the other studs were twunks. Maybe it was just my view of the world. I was tall with my 6’4 (193cm) in height. And no one even got close to my physique. I looked like a muscle freak compared to their slim swimmer bodies. And it wasn’t a bad thing… To be honest – It was a great feeling to outman them with my own image of masculinity. I rummaged through my bag searching for my speedo. But it was no luck. I glanced over to Jake. We weren’t close friends, but I could sense his lust for my body. I catched him checking me out from time to time. And even now he was clearly glancing further down towards my prominent bulge. I was packing close to 10 inches. And I couldn’t hide the fact that my bulge was pushing my jockstrap slightly down, revealing the heavy base of my shaft.. “You don’t happen to have a spare speedo?” He slowly took his opportunity to glance all over my frame. I was pumped from my workout earlier. My pecs were slightly hairy and my cock was pushing my jockstrap out to perfection, revealing a slight trail of pubic hair. I was the only stud inside the swimming group who wasn’t shaved to the bones. Probably because speed didn’t matter in my eyes. He just nodded towards the equipment room. “I don’t have any… But they have a collection of lost speedos. Just pick of them.” He focused on my massive cock and blushed when I slowly adjusted my fat package, pushing my jockstrap further up again… “Thanks man” I slapped him on his athletic back before I slowly steered towards the storage room. The light was dim in there. It stank like chlorine when I searched for lost items. The lost stuff was stored inside a huge wooden chest. *Damn… Looks like no one wants a pair of lost speedos back…* When I opened the heavy box, I found a collection of 30 to 40 speedos, several bodysuits, and swimming caps in all colors and sizes in there. Most looked rather boring. And many were way too small for my physique. I slightly got hard when I just imagined how they wouldn’t even survive my pumped calves or quads by trying them on. I already heard the showers running in the nearby shower room when I grabbed the hottest one out of the pack. It was a signal red one with a white cross over the top. That man had to be a fucking freak, because when I tried it on… It fit. And to my surprise: It was even a few numbers too huge for my 10 incher and my bull nuts. I felt small for once when I had to use the built in Laces to pull it tight around my sculpted hips. I spotted Jake in the shower room and took the spot right next to him. Just when the water hit my sculpted body and the fabric of my speedo I let out a deep, long and uncontrolled moan. I slightly crunched forward under the pleasure… Fuck…. It felt like I just came when the water hit my package… I let out a low grunt, slowly trying to get back control over my lust before I inhaled slowly… Until I realizing everyone in the shower room stared at me. A few were clearly aroused by the sight. Others disgusted. “Care bout your own business already” My voice was deeper.. manlier… I saw Jake gaping when I just forced him into a headlock. I was rock hard. I ignored the other men in the showers who just left as quickly as possible. “Fuck… Whatever you put into my speedo… You clearly knew what was going to happen, right?” I pinned him rougher against my musky pit, ignoring his weak attempts to get out of my grip… “I PROMISE..” His voice was muffled “..NNGH I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WITH YOUR SPEEDOS” He squirmed and gasped for air when I released him. At least he was also popping a boner now… “..I swear I’ll fucking break you if you lied” I saw his red head.. He was still cute with his pumped athletic frame. I Couldn’t be mad about him more than few minutes so I decided to help him with his boner problem in an instance. I pulled him underneath my showerhead and switched the water to the coldest setting. It was winter. And I knew how cold the water could get in public places. The cold stream hit our bodies. He wanted to shift away, tried to shout but I Just muffled his shouts with my rough hand, forcing him up against my sculpted body. It worked for him… But it didn’t work for my part. It only made me even harder when I felt the water hit my massive pecs, rushing down over my sculpted abs and my throbbing boner. It was almost as if my body just adapted to the cold while I felt him shiver in my arms. At least the trick worked for him… When I switched the water back to hot. He was clearly pissed, pushing my arm away before he stomped off into the swimming hall. I sighed, watching his bubble but waddling away while I still waited a few more minutes until I had my fat cock back under control. It still was semi. But I didn’t care. I couldn’t hide my cock even if it was soft. They can stare as long as they want. Because I would do the same if I saw my reflection in a mirror right now.

Damn, I hate libertarian, coke addicted, right wing billionaires named Lonnie Mucus. I have a feeling I'm going to hate every chapter of this story I can't wait to read. I hate that I think I'm going to love the story despite my left of center inclinations. If only Mucus had a poorly run social network on which to post my unvarnished, unhinged tantrums about this un-American plot! Off to my Edison Model Z EV to compose my post.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 2: Winter break crawled by. I had returned home to see my family for three long weeks. Frank was the only thing on my mind from dawn till dusk. In the midst of wholesome family activities, the memory of Frank's unnatural, bulging, hyper-sexualized body kept intruding. I thought of Frank's tren-fueled mentality, his body pushed to the limits of muscular development; of him single-mindedly devouring fuel, injecting roids, and lifting weights all winter break. He was out of control. Obsessed. Animalistic. A freak. When I finally headed back to campus, it was with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. The bus from the airport seemed to hit every red light. The minutes crawled by. My heart beat faster with each passing mile. — At last, I got to the door of our room. I heard a faint sound within, almost like a moaning. My heart leaped. Frank was home! Without knocking, I walked right in. The first thing that hit me was the smell — like a Mack truck of deep, intoxicating musk, coupled with the scent of fresh cum. Then I noticed the cum splattered on the walls, on the floor, on the bed. Like someone had just shot massive loads out of a water gun. The room was a war zone, with jock straps, empty protein powder containers and dirty gym clothes scattered everywhere. Then I saw Frank. First and foremost, even in my fantasies, I had forgotten how big he was. The dorm room looked like a doll's house compared to him. There was an Alice in Wonderland quality, like he had taken a potion that made him too large for the small room. Frank was lying on his back on the comparatively tiny bed. He was naked except for a white jock strap. His dark body hair was buzzed short, yet his thick beard was longer than usual. The mattress dipped dramatically under his weight. His cheeks were flushed and his jacked body was flexed. He locked eyes with me -- a serious expression on his red, sweaty face. “James…” he said weakly. With one swollen arm he was stroking his throbbing cock, which had popped out of the jock strap and looked like it was about to explode. Then I realized the other hand was holding a long, black dildo, which he was pumping in and out of his hairy hole. (The dildo was hard to spot at first beneath his bulging quads.) With each pump, his abs convulsed from a 6 pack into an 8 pack. Frank wasn't looking at porn, he was just writhing on the bed -- as if overcome by his own body. He flexed an arm and licked it, rubbed his hand up and down his huge pecs. He locked eyes with me. I laid down my bags, peeled off my winter jacket, and approached him. The dildo he was ramming into his hole must be 8 inches around, I thought. "James...I've been takin' so much tren... Making me so horny bro..." he whispered, gritting his teeth. Sweat was beaded on his red, veiny forehead as he pegged himself. "Couldn't wait for you to get here..." A word about Frank’s voice. In some ways it was as sexy as his body. You have to imagine when they deepen someone’s voice on TV so they can remain anonymous — that’s how scary deep it was. Only it was lightened by a boyish quality I can’t describe, a tiny Texan drawl, and a very slight lisp. What drove me crazy was how it was so gentle and even delicate — yet deeper than any human voice I’d heard. In some ways, it was just like Frank himself, an innocent soul in the body of a superhuman monster. I leaned over Frank and kissed his beautiful mouth. His longer beard felt rough but his lips were soft as ever. I took over the dildo from his hand and continued pumping it in and out, slowly. "AhH! Bro. I missed you," Frank said. I thrust the dildo deeper inside him. "Fuck!" A spurt of precum shot out of his quivering, red dick. "I missed you too, Frank," I said. "Please bro... Fuck me. Fuck me, sir. Please, sir." Frank turned over and bent forward on his knees. His wing-like lats flew out in all their glory. His legs looked like he was half horse. Of course, by now I was completely hard. Must have taken me about ten seconds to pull off my clothes and start pounding the muscle freak. Well…it took a minute more to get to his hole. You see, Frank’s glutes were so thick that I had to fasten my arms around his freaky traps for leverage, so I could push hard enough to even get inside him. "Th-th-thank you, sir," he cried submissively. I went deeper and deeper, pushing as hard as I could against the warm wall of ass muscle. “Love fuckin my muscle boy,” I said, doing my best impression of a straight bro. “Thank you sir, thank you!” His eyes rolled back in his head. “AH! AH! AH!” Frank screamed louder and louder as I pounded him. It must have looked ridiculous, a normal-sized guy pounding a 360-pound freak. I thought of the other people in the dorm who could no doubt hear Frank’s moaning, but I didn’t care. “Fuck yes! Fuck yes!” he yelled in his inimitable, super deep voice. I couldn’t believe how wide and tapered his back looked as it jiggled with each thrust. “Choke me, sir.” I obliged. Or, I tried to. But Frank’s neck was so thick that, no matter how hard I squeezed, I didn’t have much impact. A huge spurt of pre-cum — almost like a load unto itself — spilled out from Frank’s dick. He moaned even louder. Then right before I was going to cum, he pulled my dick out. He grabbed my body, each hand grasping an entire shoulder, and laid me down on the bed like his tiny plaything. Then, looking more huge and horned up than I had ever seen him, he backed up and sat on my dick. From below, I couldn’t see most of his face. His huge, flopping pecs blocked everything except his dark and slightly crazed eyes. As I looked up and saw his pecs jiggling, felt his warm hole sliding up and down my cock, kneaded my hands through his 8-pack, I knew I wouldn’t last long. I started to cum. At the exact same moment, so did Frank — without even touching his cock. His load was so enormous that it drenched my face and most of my chest too. I felt his asshole tighten around my dick in the throes of his orgasm. He moaned: “FUCK YES SIRRRR!” A moment passed. Frank was still straddling me, panting, my very sensitive cock still inside him, my huge load leaking out of his hole. His load coated my entire face. He shuddered. Another mini-orgasm. A last rope of cum shot right into my mouth. Then I started laughing. “What are you laughing at?” “Frank, you really are amazing!” He flashed a killer smile and almost seemed to blush. He looked in my eyes and didn’t say it, but I knew he was thinking (because I was thinking it too): I love you. Frank grimaced and pulled my dick out of his hole, then laid down next to me and shoved my face into his chest crevasse. He knew this was my favorite thing in the world. He pecked affectionate little kisses on my head. God, it felt good to be back in this bear hug, I thought. “You don’t know what it’s been like, James. I’ve been back for ten days. I doubled my tren and now my libido is off the charts. Couldn’t stop thinking of you. I’ve been jerking off six times a day.” “Wait, you’ve been back that long?” I said, surprised. “Yeah, I came back early. My dad was being an asshole. We fought. Said I’m doing too much gear, that he’s worried about me. You believe that?” “Uh…” I wasn’t sure how to reply. Any decent parent would be worried about an 18 year old with 360 pounds of muscle. I must admit, one thing that I found particularly sexy about Frank was that he didn’t give a shit about the risks and stigma of steroids or bodybuilding. It never even seemed to enter his mind. It was like the life of a muscle freak was, for him, the only version of life even worth considering. Nothing was going to stand in his way. Frank continued: “It’s all bullshit. He’s such a hypocrite. Like he wasn’t on gear when he was my age. What he’s really mad about is that he knows I’m not gonna do pro football after college, like he did. He wants me to play in the NFL, just like him.” “You’re not going to?” “Fuck no. You think I care about football? It’s just so I can cover my tuition and keep my dad off my back. Oh, and get unlimited meals at the cafeteria. As soon as I graduate, I’m going to start my pro bodybuilding career.” “Whoa.” “I’m not gonna stop until I’m Mr. Olympia. Can you picture it? Me up on that stage, 6’4”, everyone else looking like a fucking pip-squeak.” “Fuck.” “Imagine what the other pros are gonna think when they see me. Every eye in the room on me. Biggest muscle freak of all time… Walking out there, 100 pounds bigger than the other guys…400 pounds of muscle… Won’t stop till I have 26 inch biceps. Gonna change the sport. Gonna be bigger than anyone ever… biggest ever…Fuck… Just imagine it bro… On stage… Everybody watching… All that freaky muscle… Thousands of people… All gasping when they see me…So big…So fucking huge… Fucking muscle…fuck…” I noticed that Frank’s face was getting flushed again. His beet-red dick had rehardened to 10.5 inches, and a shocking amount of pre-cum was once more gurgling out. Even though he had just came five minutes earlier. “See what I mean?” Frank said. “All this tren has been making me so horny, I can barely leave the room. You’re gonna need to fuck me one or two more times. Then we can go grab lunch. I want to hear how your Christmas was.” “My dick might need a few minutes—“ Frank grabbed my cum-covered face and thrust it into his fragrant pit. Sure enough, the smell was like a Pavlovian trigger. My tired dick immediately hardened. “Good,” said Frank as he saw my erection. “Let’s be quick though. I’m starving!”

Ch 1 - Hedlan’s Birthday Hedlan awoke once again to the sensational vibrations his pectorals were programmed to. He loved that smooth hum as he awoke from another blissful twelve hour recharge. It rippled across his toned body as his most evolved muscle, his brain, began to check the status of his beloved anatomy in nanoseconds. Before he could will his eyes to open, Hedlan’s mind had processed over twelve terabytes of data obtained from his recharge process. 79% regularity. 12% functionality innovation updates fully installed. 0.001% anatomical failure, corrected, error time - 23 nanoseconds. This was a meager blip, but Hedlan knew reporting this minor issue would reward him with another four thousand credits of nanowear innovations, the equivalent of a yearly bonus. The report continued: Experimental compatibility with temporary host unit: 83%. A 30% increase over the previous stand-in. Second interaction imperative for credit authorization. “Ah yes” Hedlan thought to himself privately. “Cindra… She *was* 83% compatible… Great, but still nothing compared to Toth, damn… When is Toth going to recover? What day is it…” Nanoseconds later, the report finished with one final note for the day: “The Time is Seven hundred hours, November 93rd in the year 99,220,220. And in addition, it is your 2016th birthday.” “Hmm…. Is it?” Purred the blonde bombshell resting upon Hedlan’s massive chest. Hedlan chuckled. “I suppose it is. My my how time flies.” Cindra’s eye glowed slightly as she received her own update. “Damn… Structural integrity only recovered 49%...” “Oof. I am off my game. A slender… What? Type 15 build, even with augments shouldn’t have recovered 55%.” Hedlan replied. Cindra rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Typical Exp-cyb… Try type 26 Essex class.” “Essex class? No fucking way. Guess I’m still kicking.” “Fuck…. Haven’t been pushed like that sense I was walking around with a bimb-type 21:” Cindra teased as she telepathically transmitted an old picture of herself. “Mmm. Don’t make em like they used too huh.” Hedlan teased. “While the fuckbags were even better than your super-mind can imagine, the structural integrity couldn’t keep up with newer models…. like YOUR experimentally sexy ass… Sometimes you gotta sacrifice beauty so you don’t wake up four weeks after having your brain force fucked out your skull… “I know, why do you think the Hive paired your. *Licks lips* Structurally stable body with me?” “Mmm… I don’t know. Terrible decision, I’m not even going to break even with the structural reports I’ve made…” “Firmware says we got one last interaction to authorize the transaction.” “Did it now? Hmm… Well what a shame… I really was looking forward to the three moons festival this friday…. But fuck it, there’s always next decade.” Ch 2 - Extremely Optimized Cindra was a somewhat out of date model, roughly two years without a proper upgrade. Still her luxury essex class selection allowed her to be paired with Hedlan as the best substitute candidate for him to… Interact with. Hedlan, is a top-of-the-line body builder. He updates himself nightly to optimize his body in every way he, or rather, the Bioware corporation, can. Huge teams of dedicated employees working around the cock…er.. Clock to improve every function in Hedlan’s body, down to a cellular level. To make it in the Bioware industry in these times, you need massive augmentations daily just to compete. Each day, Hedlan compresses his body down overnight to install and re-charge every last cell in his body. When he awakes he is roughly 7’3” tall, the shortest he’ll be all day. His skeleton is constantly secreting a variety of chemicals to encourage muscular growth, and inconsistently expands at a rate of roughly 2.5 inches each hour to handle the increase in mass he accumulates. Each muscle group is continuously charged and exercised on their own. This was at first thought to be the main limitation to muscular acceleration. That is, until the innovation of Sexual Interaction Boosting. More effective than steroids, a chemical called “Lib-300” was a passive chemical generated in a host body. On its own it has numerous, well perhaps not negative but certainly undesired traits when it came to body building. It would encourage massive fat deposits until the compound matured. Afterwhich, if ingested fresh, it would supercharge a foreign secondary host with a compatible catalyst muscular system(cy-ms), causing their muscular ability to balloon at nearly exponential rates while not compromising the cardiovascular, neural, or cybernetic enhancements. The practical upshot of this was Sexual Interaction Boosting, in which a typically female candidate would produce Lib-300 in excess, specifically at key anatomical areas of their body during periods of heightened stimulation: The glutes, the thighs, and each breast. From there, sexual interaction would act as a sort of super-juiced workout for the typically male partner, who would receive the chemical through special receptors on the tongue for the upper half of the body, the genitals for the lower half, and in addition, the skin as well, which while not as effective, would end up absorbing roughly 32% of excess Lib-300 excreted by the partner. In Hedlan’s line of work, not a drop is to be wasted. The Lib-300 lasts for mere seconds, but when it interacts with the body in large quantities, it can promote muscular growth for hours, so as to continuously supply the host with the euphoric feeling of becoming stronger, which is simply more errotic and desirable than perhaps any other sensation Hedlan experienced in his two thousand plus years of existence. Many scientists have theorized this euphoria is the key to Hedlan’s success. Each partner is continuously being updated and evaluated on ways to improve the interaction process. For instance, Cindra is equipped with magnetic gravity enhancement in her glutes and cervix. This allows her body to begin the process by filling air pockets with charged nitro-helium, making her lighter than a feather, and after a few minutes will force her into a state of extreme buoyancy that could potentially rocket her out of the atmosphere. Only by Hedlan gripping her with an extreme force of over 4.8 tons per-square-centimeter, can Cindra prevent her thighs from slamming against the ceiling. In addition, Cindra can fluctuate randomly, forcing Hedlan to adapt between needing to exert extreme force downwards, or mild force upwards. However, this is little challenge for Hedlan’s body, which after a mere forty minutes (roughly 3,000 reps per muscle group) of immaculate exercise for his torso, triceps, abdominals, and tongue is ready for stage two. In order to accelerate the growth process, a newer feature of Hedlan’s workout is the process of using a special chemical, stored in the left testicle, as a linking catalyst inside of Cindra’s esophagus. By coaxing the chemical out of Hedlan, Cindra can absorb charge from the chemical. This in turn drives every nerve cluster in Cindra’s body into overdrive and improves Lib-300 production by 300% (while simultaneously driving Cindra into a heightened state of madness in which every form of pleasure becomes more blissful by the moment, actively slowing down time from her perspective and eventually leaving her temporarily brain-dead). Even the air molecules moving through her toes can be felt if she is able to absorb a full stomach full. However, this is an increasingly difficult challenge as while the process is ongoing, Hedlan’s magnificent cock has expanded considerably, being not only the first part of his body exposed to the link, but also it’s main method of absorption for the moment. During phase one, the cock maintained almost no growth aside from the average erection, however, once stage two begins, Hedlan’s member begins to make up for lost time, expanding from his initial size of nine inches at a rate of 0.5 inches every minute, until the optimal size of 3 feet is reached. In the mean time, Cindra can’t allow herself to eject the cock, even to take a breath. This isn’t a choice, as I may remind you, her system is actively working in overdrive. This is why her lungs are equipped with methods of absorbing oxygen effectively without the use of her throat, and her throat is lined with titanium stabilizers to prevent… most damage. For the next hour and seven minutes, Cindra’s throat is brutally fucked by Hedlan’s monster cock. All the while, Hedlan has grown considerably. Before stage two, Hedlan was somewhat lopsided as a result of the recharge process, with a massive upper body build of over 300lbs of compressed muscle in each arm, in addition to 470lbs in the chest, abdominals, and other areas above his stomach. Totalling an impressive 1070lbs above the waist. While his legs were still massive, each one compressed down to 260lbs apiece, smaller than each arm. This is due to the “morning wood” effect, a humorous aspect of compression body-building which basically boils down to “Your legs can grow at a better rate than your upper body can after compression”. This is actually one of the least involved processes interactred with Hedlan’s cybernetic brain now frantically shifting the flow of Lib-300 to his ass to round his glutes out with extra layers of muscular perfection so as to support the rest of the transformation later. At which point, poor Cindra suffered a catastrophic failure of her esophageal support, forcing her to rip the now two foot cock from her gut as it filled with Hedlan’s emergency release of the chemical. This annoyed Hedlan somewhat, as while he knew Cindra would heal in a few days, the rate of Lib-300 production would be severely compromised at only 200% increase, if he was lucky. Never the less, he couldn’t let the past two hours go to waste, and spun Cindra around for phase three. In phase three, Cindra will be excreting massive amounts of Lib-300 from her breasts and vaginal walls, causing swelling. Meanwhile, every last drop of the delicious secretion is fueling Hedlan with a roided sense of power and immense growth rate as the beast would continue to swell greedily with power and determination as he squeezed and fucked every drop of the compound he could from what was left of Cindra as she entered a blissful coma of pleasure that would last for days. Inside, Hedlan felt like a machine, pumping and sucking in every way he could to trigger the maximum amount of reaction from Cindra. It’s one thing to obsessively pump your meat into your partner, its different when you’re doing it professionally. It wasn’t just lust, it was calculated. His mind burned at the number of calculations being done to control his tongue, while waiting ever so patiently to engage his cock again, which when flexed would stimulate a magnetic field absorbing and stimulating every micrometer of Cindra’s nether regions. Outside, Hedlan was pulsing larger and larger as he quickly grew past eight feet tall. His pectorals, while only a mere half-meter in width each, were now jetting a solid foot out from his body and weighed easily 400lbs apiece. Each commanded an arm the size of a baby cow, with the muscular complexity of a super-computer. Thousands upon thousands of micro-layers of muscle worked together to give Hedlan the power to crush mountains with a squeeze. His legs rose to the size of tree trunks, and his abdominals began production of a new matrix of blood vessels just to provide the space to add another row of rock hard chest stones. Despite the limitations of Cindra’s throat, her ass and genitals were more than capable of handling Hedlan’s rapidly expanding three foot monster cock as it evolved and matured to allow new methods of pleasure to reach Hedlan’s brain. After a mere thirty minutes however, poor Cindra had reached a critical state and could produce no more. As his growth slowed, Hedlan sighed. “Damn, used up and I’m only as good as a mark 90… Whatever.” He thought to himself. “I’m out of time. HIVE,” he stated addressing the globally shared hivemind system, “Ensure Cindra gets home in one peace, and in the meantime, I’ll need an emergency boost of Lib-300 from another host before work, otherwise those bastards at Muscle-Management will wipe the floor with us. “ Telepathically he ended the message and started to walk to work. As he got up Cindra awoke dazed, with her brain functioning at 30% capacity. “You’re going out without getting dressed?” Hedlan just smiled and said “Why?” imprinting the image of his supercharged chest into her brain as she passed out once again. Ch 3 - Going to work - As Hedlan stepped outside he felt the warm radiation of the sun kiss his skin. He never understood why but he loved the way light bounced off of him, particularly while he was still dripping in a thick layer of sex-based sweat and mutated biological compounds. In the breeze the salty wind of the ocean core beneath the floating platform sent the smell of fresh delicacies rising from the food pits below. Before Hedlan was a bodybuilder, he started off as a chef’s apprentice deep down by the shores, hardly ever feeling the sensation of sunlight. He left eventually to pursue his own passion, but as a child he understood why they’d stay down there, the taste of such food is sublime when it’s fresh, and it isn’t to be exchanged for any substitute. To do so would be a disservice, not just to the meal, but the craft itself. That’s what motivated Hedlan. Perfection and respect for his craft. Only to him, it wasn’t the milliseconds between flipping the grill, but the flow of blood and energy within his own complex body. Pressuring each layer of muscle until it fractured perfectly, and healing the organic pattern as quickly as possible, just to shatter it again. Like his own body was his own pottery and he was a master of Kintsugi. “I don’t understand these firewall inefficiencies” rang out a voice in Hedland’s mind. “I can’t be late for Armada practice again”. “I love the smell of fresh herbs blowing in the morning.” “I should surprise my lover at work today…” Hedlan lowered the volume of these voices as he approached the local gathering spot. Idle dribble isn’t what he was interested in overhearing from other people’s minds. However, as he stepped into view in front of the grassy clearing, a few turned heads and glances blared at the perfect volume inside his head: “Fuck, let me get some of that hunk.” “Fuck me, I haven’t felt aroused by a male in weeks…” “That beast… I wouldn’t last a minute with that monster… Maybe I should upgrade…” “Please. Please notice me. Please. I need it. I need to feel that hot god against my skin… I want to lick those muscles clean…” Hedlan grinned and produced a small nod at the thirsty woman giving that last open thought, whose face went red as she turned her thoughts back to private. As he continued walking across the soft dry grass, more and more thoughts like that massaged his ego until it matched his enormous proportions. In the open public of the Alpha Centauri Heart Planet it was common to see humanoid variants ranging in size from a meager three feet, to twenty foot goliaths twice the size of Hedlan, both clothed and baren depending on preference and occasion. However, towards the southern side of the coastal plateau, was the sinful Muscle Beach. A libidinous stretch of over three miles, where the thick crowd of muscular adonises would flair their bodies in conjunction with each other. From one end of the beach to another, was an endless swarm of mostly naked figures caressing and fawning over superior specimens. The air of this region was actually laced with a byproduct from the Lib-300 production factories below known as W-Tin-K, and while at first options were weighed to fix this issue, it soon proved to not only be difficult, but undesirable and counterproductive to the economy and tourism. W-Tin-K is a powerful hallucinogenic compound that’s quickly broken down by oxygen, its effects vary from subject to subject. Those who ingest this substance are filled with a harmonic lust towards the most powerful specimen in the area, where their minds are slowly corrupted by the euphoric sensation of licking and touching a specimen stronger than oneself. While this sounds concerning, over seven thousand years of research has gone into the study of W-Tin-K, and no concernable link between health and ingestion of W-Tin-K has been found. Survival on the beach is somewhat determined by one’s ability to handle W-Tin-K and perhaps more importantly: The ability to handle other people Jacked out of their minds on the chemical as well. While a few horny utopian citizens licking your legs up and down is fun, a body that isn’t built to handle the inner crowds of the area will be savagely ripped apart by dozens of lust-crazed beasts, appearance isn’t enough to survive, structure is even more vital. It’s for this reason that the southern beach was where Hedlan’s personal back-up for Lib-300 would be found, as any Lib-300 producing beast that could survive here would be able to take monsters ten times Hedlan’s current ability with no issue. The Hive directed Hedlan deeper and deeper into the crowd as the muscular quality and size of the men and women around him increased to match himself as more and more of those smaller than him began to delve deeper and deeper into acts of passion for their current master. Finally, Hedlan finally found who he was looking for. A young stud, merely nine hundred years old, his mind lost for days, perhaps even months, within his seemingly endless pursuit to be drowned in the cum of the gods he helped to build. His name was Levidicus. Hedlan glazed over him, his mind not even for a moment distracted by the other beasts in the distance larger or the pathetic simps clawing at his legs. Levidicus was a massive specimen just shy of Hedlan’s height at a staggering 8 foot 10”. All of it raw muscle, of course, he didn’t have the sensation of growing to such an expanse each day like Hedlan, rather Levidicus would start and end each day the same size. A thought Hedlan pitied him for. However, aside from that Levidicus was perfect. Estimated a 95% compatibility with himself. His pectorals glowing with Lib-300 as he was built to produce the chemical endlessly, however Hedlan didn’t have that kind of time. He needed to bring Levidicus to stage three quickly. However, without speaking a word, the Hive informed them both of the issue at hand. Levidicus was no object to be used. He was a savage animal that needed to be tamed. He wouldn’t give up his throne of power to bow to anyone, and if he would, Hedlan would have to prove he owned it. Both of them knew from the start, exactly who would rein supreme, but with a cocky grin, and a grip of his own python, Levidicus made it very clear he wasn’t going to make it easy. Once again, Hedlan started with stage 1. Thankfully, the various other members of the area had already begun the activation process, direct interaction was all that was necessary. So, Hedlan primed his tongue and gripped his adversary by the balls and began. “Ah… Oh fuck yes. Finally. A bitch who knows his place. MMMmmm. Damn straight… You suck that cock boy. You suck that fucking pole. You know who I am bitch… I’m your fucking daddy…. Don’t forget it. Half your age, but twice your worth. You hear that you god damn peasant. If you dare take your lips off that cock, I’ll flip you over and fill your ass with it too… I’m your god damn boss now, your fucking GOD. I demand this worship.” While Levidicus teased Hedlan about the process, Hedlan was not so prideful to feel even slightly inferior. He knew what was to come, and the threat of humiliation if he were to sneeze. If a sense of superiority helped Levidicus reach climax faster, good. It didn’t distract Hedlan from the thousands of micro-movements his mouth was performing any more than the gusts of hot sex-soaked wind swirling around them. It wasn’t until twenty-seven minutes in that Levidicus’ spirit began to falter. Annoyed, he tried every trick in his book to detach the link, which would have awarded him with a new hunk to toy with and tons of respect from the other studs he’d ride into the sunset. Increased musk, decreasing sensitivity, even lacing his spunk with a spicy flavor, but none of it deterred Hedlan from his objective. “Shit. Fuck. DAMN! Oh fuck tiger. Looks like I’m about to let the dam break. MMM! Good. I bet your sick fuck ass loves this part…Gah…. MMMMMMmmmm…… Get ready big boy… AND I HOPE THE REST OF YOU SLUTS ARE WATCHING, YOU’RE ABOUT TO SEE THE FUCKING MONSTER THIS DADDY CAN MAKE!” And with that Hedlan grinned a warm white cum-stained grin as the familiar feeling of growth reached his chest again. It was slow, but he knew it was there. Hedlan wasted no time. He spun Levidicus around and prepared to inject his own chemical in the most effective way possible for stage two. “WOah there baby. Be gentle now!” Leviticus begged through gritted teeth as Hedlan wasted no time pumping his swollen four foot cock deep into Leviticus’s perfect bouncy ass. “Ah… AH! FUck… THat… THAT ALL YOU GOT BITCH BOY!” Levidicus screamed as Hedlan’s fat member began to swell to even more inhuman proportions inside of him. “I CAN TAKE THIS ALL DAY!” “I’m sure you can Levi, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to speed this up…” Hedlan spoke softly into Levi’s ears. A small glance of fear appeared in Levidicus’s eyes as Hedlan directed all his growth to his genitals and flexed. “YOU FUCKING BITCH! OH THAT’S JUST NOT GAH! FAIR! OH… FUCK…” Hedlan gripped Levi’s firm yet shrinking tree-trunk like legs as he rammed his cock inside him for the final push. Like a bottle of champagne, Hedlan released the chemical into Levi’s body where it quickly began driving Levidicus to a new heightened level of pleasure and production as his internal organs were only just barely saved from decimation by a powerful pressurized burst from Hedlan’s expanding cock. As Levi’s mind began to succumb to the blur of pleasure and synapse limitations, he looked up to see the man who just minutes ago was almost his height, now towering above him at a menacing ten feet. “Now for the fun part.” Hedlan grinned evilly as the heat in Levi’s eyes changed from the fear of pain, to the lust of exhaustion, like a marathon runner getting high off his own endorphins. Levi’s body was glowing from the insane amount of liquid being forced to his surface. As his mind raced to process it all, he was discovering new ways to climax. His throat erupted with a sweet bile he’d never tasted, which Hedlan drank from his lips as he squeezed his body to it’s limit like a juice-box. While at first he figured his cock would be left disappointingly free, like so many others only interested in his Lib-300 production, Hedlan was a professional, and was actively using his matrix of expanding abdominal muscles to maintain Levi’s climactic state for longer than Levidicus had ever experienced with minor vibrations and flexes. His ass was expanding along with Hedlans, not due to any chemical reason, but because Hedlan’s thirsty cock was deep inside the source of what he could offer Hedlan, slurping and replacing as much of the material as he possibly could with each thrust. It was forced to expand to survive. All the while, Hedlan’s body was accelerating even more so than with Cindra. Ten foot. Eleven foot. Twelve foot. Soon, Hedlan’s massive Sixteen foot body was lifting Levi’s tiny 8-foot husk like a doll Levi looked up at the monster Hedlan had become, and all he could muster was “Damn daddy… You got game…”. The rest of the beach cheered in awe as they watched the man who walked into the beach a quarter of the size he was now, walk out like it was another day at the office with cum drizzling from his abs. For Hedlan, he was satisfied. Fifteen - five would have done fine, but sixteen would likely get him a raise. “Thinking of which, it’s likely about time I get to work…” he thought to himself. Part 4 - Actually getting to work Hedlan had a new spring in his step as he walked to work. He loved this part of the day, the calm before the storm. His body was practically new, as it was every day. The artificial nerves communicating everything within him were fresh, as were many of the ones in his brain. As part of the stage-3 process, a final enzyme is released from within Hedlan’s own body that actively adjusts his head and neck size. This is essential on a micro-level as the network of nerves throughout his body has more than doubled, and trying to get all that info into the same nerve system he woke up with would leave him paralyzed. On a macro-level, it also prevents him from looking ridiculous with a titan’s body and a normal head. A side effect of this exchange is that despite Hedlan making the same trip to work every day, every sight and observation feels fresh and new, like wondering into a new city every day. However despite this, Hedlan would often be too lost in his daily commute to make note of people beneath him, and would often crush one or two civilians by accident if he wasn’t watching. Thankfully for the victim they themselves are always equipped to survive such a devastating blast. *Yes blast, he’s 16 feet tall and over 2500lbs, he’s effectively wearing smart-cars as sneakers, just those directly underneath him aren’t the only ones affected. The civilians actually revel in this as failure to prepare for such an inconvenience will actually award them thousands in credits if they can prove this wasn’t of their own volition. Hedlan transmitted an apology without even changing his pace after crushing a local vendor and didn’t even process the “it’s fine” that was transmitted back as he’d become distracted by a mild inconvenience. “Huh… That’s right, i’m 16’ now, it takes slightly less time to commute… Oh well, can’t be helped. Guess I can just take an extra second to admire the view here.” The outside of the Bioware Cybernetics and Augmentations Delta building was massive to say the least. The doors, furniture, elevators, and even the flora are scaled up massively to accommodate their main products: Experimental giants. Dozens of massive hunks and hunkettes wander the halls as if they’re normal sized people in a normal office, making playful threats to one another about what they’re going to do to defeat each other in the gym later, chatting near massive water-towers filled with electrolyzed steroid fluids, meanwhile hundreds of normal sized people are speeding around the base like rats, performing busywork the gods they work on aren't going to do themselves. “DAMN Had-es!” A thunderous boom from behind almost started Hedlan. It was Byron, a rival product, and Hedlan’s best friend. “I mean you’ve been saying it’ll happen for centuries, but fuck it finally did! You’re finally bigger 16’ before work!” Byron was a rival, but they almost never competed as they were in different focuses. For centuries Byron was the golden-child mascot of muscle growth science. “Bithon-Byron Titan of Alpha Centauri” they called him on the ads. He was a titan among gods, and for years was the only one exposed to the Lib-300 experiment, giving him a massive 300-year lead over almost everyone else in the program. However, this also exposed him to the larger risks in the program, eventually culminating in the sad news his body wouldn’t be able to adapt to the newer sciences that Hedlan would prosper from, instead he now makes a living showing off clothes for the massives. None the less, Byron was a mind-shattering 35 foot tall deity each day he walked into work, a sight that both horrified Hedlan, and fueled his lust to not only become such a being, but surpass it. Begrudgingly, Naple, Byron’s boyfriend, a normal 6’3” technician and chief scientist behind the Lib-300 project, would transfer 2000 credits to Hedlan as in compliance with the bet the two made 234 year prior. “It tastes so much sweeter to earn those credits” Hedlan teased telepathically (as speaking directly with Naple wouldn’t reach) “Yeah yeah, you got lucky Had-es. I’m REAL close to fixing this reality-anchor…. Once I can do that, kisses the lats he was inspecting, I can do it again!” “Do what again?” Hedlan asked curiously. “I can surpass the limits of our reality, and enter a whole new field of science… If you thought my Lovecraftian fuck beast was powerful before… Wait until he can become even more powerful than this reality would permit… He’d be able to grow strength not only physically, but inter-dimensionally as well!” Naple boasted while actively drooling over the earth-quake-esque heartbeat he felt within Byron. “I… actually can’t imagine that… But hey sign me up for it!” “You’ll be the third to know!” Napel transmitted. Hedlan turned and started to walk towards his station, smirking as talking with Napel was always an itch he loved to scratch. In a world where you ascend to titan-hood daily, talking with someone of his size with his confidence is fascinating. Byron may be physically intimidating, but that goliath is passionately fucking that tiny twink constantly. Who’s the real master? The monster, or the man who chooses to be average despite not only improving himself to please his creation, but trusting his own experimental science to do so. Hedlan rode the elevator downwards towards his office: The energy sector. The energy sector itself is a fusion core continuously powered by the oceanic planet beneath, and is one of the most impressive feats of engineering ever undertaken by society. Pos-19 is an entire planet of liquid, similar to a gas giant. Even the core is liquid as well, only extremely pressurized and heavy liquid isotopes which are in a constant state of motion as the center of the planet decays, breaks down, expands and contracts. This creates liquid storms in the outer layer of lighter liquids, brimming with potential energy. When the planet was first colonized (well technically one of it’s moons), the outer layer of water was an untamable tyrant of impenetrable endless storms with winds moving at thousands of miles an hour and waves the size of mountains rapidly changing the landscape. Today, at least as far as can be viewed from the platform, it’s completely placid and the only wind to be found is artificially implemented. The change came from centuries of innovating every possible method of acquiring energy from the storms and water and channeling it into the energy core. The core as you can imagine is the main power-line for the whole platform, only it uses quantum tunneling instead of powerlines, transmitting energy not only into machinery and lights, but directly into people’s bodies in regulated amounts. But lets get back on track, you’re not here for the complex sciences behind futuristic cities, you’re here for Hedlan. Hedlan is a special case, requiring significantly more energy than the average citizen. In order to obtain that safely, it needs to be authorized and processed here daily. Hedlan used to love this part, the connection to the core, the raw energy that tamed a planet connected directly into him, the power of a god in his control, giving him the only spec of fear he’d feel daily as the switch is thrown and he may potentially fry like an egg. Now it just bored him. He was too used to it, and at some unconscious level, it didn’t scare him anymore. Even if it did malfunction for the first time in 10000 years, would it even kill him? More than likely his augmentations would overload and break down, which would suck, but he would survive it. If that kind of power couldn’t slay him, what could? Suddenly an update was transmitted to him which snapped him out of his funk. “Relay partner assignment: Toth Wavecrest” “Oh ho ho, Toth, you got the promotion.” “Sort of, our last fuck completely destroyed my Lib-systems, the Hive decided it’d be easier to just move me to tesseract relay than it would be to restore my body.” A voice beamed into Hedlan’s mind from somewhere else. “Careful baby, you keep surprising me like this and I may break the new model again.” “Not likely. This new one is built off the data they salvaged from my old body. It’s actually pretty damn advanced, and all of it tailored to handle everything your body could possibly hit me with. Check it:” Toth uploaded her own mental image. “48 meters huh? Guess I’ll need to find a new partner for my morning routine…” “Thank god, I already lived through what happened to poor Cindra this morning. Lucky she’s got the essex class body, otherwise I don’t think her pleasure sensors could override the crippling pain she endured…” “Naughty girl, looking into me when you should be preparing yourself…” “Oh shut up you cocky little monster, you knew I would, why else would you break her spine like that? You know that move’s reserved for me ;P…Mmmmm… I’m getting hot just thinking about you trying to break me… Hurry up and get down here already!” “Sorry babe, I’m not even in the water yet, and you know I like to enjoy this part.” “UUUUUHHHHGGGG, fine. But don’t be a little bitch if you can’t handle me when you get down here.” An alert sounded off: “Warning, returning member entering the wave-gym, all non-augmented personnel is to leave the drop zone immediately.” “Ahh… Another day in the gym.” Was the last transmission sent by Hedlan before he was dropped into the ocean below. The “gym” to Alpha-Centurian Bodybuilders is not lined with mirrors and ellipticals. The “Gym” is the planet itself. It consists of multiple layers of different density liquids. The outermost layer being relatively thin. To a normal 200-lb person, they’d find the liquid to be too thick to penetrate and would be stuck outside the first layer as their own buoyancy would prevent them from sinking. If you were slightly heavier, roughly 500lbs, your weight would overcome the tipping point for the first layer, and you’d sink to the top of the second layer. Drowning isn’t an issue, as your cellular energy isn’t reliant on oxygen, however the weight of the water itself acts as your first hurdle. It’s a workout just to stand up. If you attempted to piss yourself, youd’ find it difficult as the pressure of the water outside your dick is greater than the pressure you’re attempting to apply. If you can somehow surpass these challenges, there are hundreds of 500lb-800lbs weights strewn all over the layer between the first and second layer. They don’t sink further for the same reason the 200lb person couldn’t sink before. This makes the “Gym” divided into different groups of weight, where once you are heavy enough to sink further, the weights available to you are increased in relation. For bodybuilders, this is extremely ideal. With advancements in technology, the lack of light and their own depth is negligible, so they are effectively no different than if they were standing on dry land. Meanwhile the conductive nature of the liquids, and the reaction with perspiration from the body builders not only builds muscle, but tones it via the immense pressure of the water, and cools it, allowing for the immense energy to be expended without disturbing the other athletes. As Hedlan hit the water the sting of a 40-story drop was nothing. Meanwhile the newer body builders turned to see the massive 2000lb man splash above them and grumbled as they moved their weights to a new position to avoid being drug down. Hedlan opened his mouth as a flood of liquid squeezed itself into his body. It tasted similar to thick cream and salt from the dozens of sweaty people beneath rising up. He loved that taste, as while somewhat gross, it reminded him that he’s literally absorbing the work and dedication of thousands of people over millions of years. Hedlan continued to sink for quite a while. As he did, he took note of all the other builders and their processes. Some simply sat on their backs with a bar over them, pushing themselves slightly downward into the thicker liquid which in turn pushed themselves back. Others were doing reverse pull-ups, some doing downward squats, one even managed to drag a 500lbs weight into the 1000lbs zone until he dropped it and it rocketed back up, smacking some girl in the process angering her. But Hedlan didn’t get to see the end of their confrontation as he continued to sink. All the while the hairs on his body began to stick upwards. They were receiving energy en-mass as his body required more and more to maintain his structure in wake of rapidly increasing pressure. Soon, as Hedlan passed the 1600lbs zone, he began to feel the pressure of the ocean around him give way to his body’s processes, despite sinking in an ocean that could crush a tank, his body was actively pushing against the pressure, so much so that his body once again was expanding from the workout. Finally, Hedlan stopped sinking, ending up just slightly inside of the 2000lbs zone. The weights down here were different. Rather than dumbbells, all the weights at this level were more like spears, each weighing at least 2000lbs, but upon activation, would open the end of the spear, increasing the resistance of the spear when pushed through the liquid. After a quick diagnostics test, his equipment informed him the maximum amount of weight he could lift would be 2490lbs of resistance which increased slightly by 1-4 lbs with each passing minute. Hedlan snickered at the reading and picked up the bar next to him and commanded it to increase to 3000lbs of resistance. The bar itself didn’t get any heavier, but as Hedlan applied pressure, the familiar feeling of resistance prevented the bar from moving upward. The veins on his arm pulsated as he continued to try, but it wouldn’t budge. After a while he checked his max again: 2599lbs “Gettin there” he thought to himself and inhaled violently as to refresh and cool his insides with fresh liquid. He’d do this again and again, occasionally stopping to do some crunches or take a breath. And eventually, the bar moved once more, slowly but surely. A variety of warnings appeared in Hedlan’s mind which he arrogantly shrugged off, he knew how much he could take. Perhaps it was this illusion of danger that helped him so, but once he started lifting the weights faster and faster, his growth increased dramatically. By rep 5 he was a staggering 20ft tall,weighing 2700lbs. By rep 30, he was 28ft, and had actively pushed himself into the 3000lbs zone. He didn’t stop for a solid hour, his mind hyper-focused on every rep, calculating the ocean current, the pressure, the tears and expanses in his muscles and micro-muscle layers. A normal body builder would likely have stopped after a few minutes to rest, but today Hedlan was in the zone and refused to be taken out of it, stopping only to change muscle groups, biceps, triceps, outer abs, thighs, calves, inner abs, quadriceps, lats, spine, glutes, and phalics. This likely would have continued, but eventually his trance was broken by a voice: “You really aren’t going to notice me are you?” Hedlan didn’t stop but decided to check his stats: “Current weight: 4768.6lbs, Current expected max: 6945lbs of resistance, Current height: 38m” As Hedlan finished his reps he stood up and gazed upon the gargantuan beauty before him. It was Toth in her new body, an experimental relay that had grown even larger sense they spoke. She now stood under him at a staggering 90 meters tall, her body rippling with energy as she grabbed her partner with ease. Hedlan had become so used to the tons of water pressure surrounding him, he had a brief moment of fear when the much more powerful clutch of a 300ft tall goddess attempting to crush him like a snowball in her hand. This wasn’t malice, merely the start of their foreplay. The differences in size meant Hedlan only reached up to Toths knees. Toth herself had spent the previous hours refining her own secretions with Terrawats of excess energy from the ocean around her, making them exponentially more potent. In the water around her, bi-products leaked into the mixture, quickly forming pressurized diamonds of various chemicals that rocketed upwards, vaporizing themselves like a meteor flying through the sky. To Hedlan, this was a divine beauty only imaginable in someone else’s dreams. The way this aquatic dominatrix waited beneath him filled him with resolution and pride, like a knight charging into a castle to slay a dragon. The pain of being crushed quickly subsided once his brain finally triggered the chemicals for his sexual urges. As the bones in his arms fixed themselves, his cock, raw and torn from his experiences with Levidicus and the exercises in the wave-gym, began to expand rapidly, pulsating with the energy it was receiving as a long thick vein emerged from it, stretching all the way up Hedlan’s perfect abs. He could take it no longer. He grabbed a fistfull of Toth’s hair and used it like an anchor to pull himself down into the lower zone where Toth’s giant face rested. The pressure was excruciating and the buoyancy fought him every pull closer. To these two, sex is not just a fun passion or show of love, it’s a cruel battle of power where injuries are common and any sign of mercy or weakness is abused at any moment. Toth starts off with a ludicrous lead having more strength and size, however unlike Toth, Hedlan will continue to grow throughout the experience, and while it may start one sided, Hedlan will eventually take the lead. As he approached her face Toth licked her massive lips and prepared to defend her mouth, however with her hands being much more massive, and her hair being actively used as a climbing rope, she instead decided to surprise her man and willed her body to release and replace the buoyant liquids she’d been storing in her breasts. The result of which would make her upper body significantly more heavy than her lower body. With Hedlan tangled in her hair, she ended up dragging him down roughly 40 meters to a pressure he wasn’t prepared to tackle. Hedlan was in a panic, and he loved it. This must be the only woman in this world capable of bringing him to this heightened level of fear and instinct, and she was all his at this depth. Toth teased the little titan as she expected him to tap out and go back to working out until he was ready, she lived for the mischief of making this man feel inadequate and defeated, it was the only thing that could possibly motivate him even more and she loved that determination in his eyes when he got mad. But that look of defeat never came. Despite the pressure, Hedlan had reached her face. As if to toy with him, Toth opened her mouth and began to caress her man with her unusually long tongue, his hot broken limbs stuck to her oversized taste buds as he struggled. She chuckled telepathically and transmitted “Looks like I win this round big boy…” “Sure about that?” Hedlan chuckled back. As he did a massive shockwave shook Toth violently, and allowed Hedlan to escape her tongue as he began to rocket upwards. Hedlan explained instantly what had happened to her lover. “It was your breasts. They aren’t just triple Ds anymore, they’re the size of buildings. Moreover, you released lighter liquids when you started to flip yourself upside down, only now after a few moments, the heavier liquid is replacing them and reacting to gravity as well. That shockwave that shook your chest was the tons of weight finally catching up to the rest of you. Meanwhile your tongue has smothered me in reaction agent, as a result even in this increased pressure, my body is expanding at a much faster rate than those exercises allowed me. According to my stats, I’m now 5000lbs and 41 meters tall, closing in on almost half your size, meanwhile, you’ve foolishly allowed your lower half to be exposed above you…” There was a tug between Toths’ thighs as Hedlan grabbed onto them with immense strength her eyes widened as a powerful smack reverberated across her body as he struck her ass with a flat hand with insane speed. “That was a very bad girl trying that… Very bad indeed… Bad girls like that need some kind of punishment…. Hmm…” Toth struggled to regain her footing, but due to the nature of the heavier liquids in her breasts, she found that her body wouldn’t straighten up while this tiny man was holding her ass in a lighter zone, her strength turned out to be her weakness as without the flexibility she couldn’t fix herself fast enough. Meanwhile, Hedlan had diverted all the re-agent from Toth’s tongue into his cock, which now was disproportional from the rest of Hedlan’s body, extending long past his knees and nearly to his ankles. In comparison to Toth, it was roughly the size of two of her index fingers. A warning began to appear in toth’s mind as she struggled to find a means of adjusting herself: “Warning Hymenical Seal Broken”. Up above, Hedlan was ecstatic as he’d begun stage 2. As his powerful arms forced her legs apart his body became immersed in her potent concoction of energy and accelerant as it dispersed into the water around them. This was hyper-expansion, a sensation he hadn’t felt for years, nor did he believe was even possible for his body to perform at this size and pressure. It was different in the depths of the ocean, there isn’t much to compare your size to, the only two things that clued Hedlan into how much he was growing were his system alerts, and Toth’s rapidly shrinking body. He started off as half her size, but with each thrust felt his newfound strength increase dramatically. Toth meanwhile knew she was almost out of time, in minutes he’d be bigger than her and he’d absolutely destroy her. His cock inside of her was swelling with each thrust, reaching deeper and deeper until to her horror, she found the massive thing pushing out a small bump under her abs, signaling it could expand no further… Without ripping her womb apart… Hedlan had allowed his meat to endure the most growth as just like with Levidicus, the more dick to go around, the more chemicals he could absorb and secrete. It was monstrous, with his testicles the size of bean-bag-chairs under him bashing against her barren ass cheeks with a soft thud with each thrust like a boat idling near a dock during a storm. He couldn't see his cock at all, and didn’t dare even think about removing it when the rush of expansion was this strong, but judging by the increase resistance to his thrust, he figured he’d hit the bottom and allowed his growth to extend to other areas. Soon, he felt the tide of battle shift in his favor as his arms became wide enough to hold both of his lovers legs with an iron grip. It was at this point that Toth knew the battle was over and instead diverted all her extra energy toward processing the pleasure. The little man inside of her quickly expanded from reaching her hips, to reaching her navel, to her breasts, and soon, she felt the warm agony of her abominable wall being pressure-washed from the inside by a seemingly endless stream of hot cum. Eventually Hedlan relaxed and slowly removed his meat from the sticky mass of shredded tissue and swiftly cooling cum left of his partner’s abdomen. He didn’t notice it, but the water around the two was actively boiling from the intense reactions. His systems were taking much longer to process as his body worked overtime to connect new layers of nerves to his expanding brain. Eventually he got the results back: Current Height: 103 meters. Current Weight: 9932lbs Expected Strength: 25,300lbs of resistance. Warning: Mental activity slowed to reduce processing power. “Fucking hell, that’s so much power…” Toth’s crippled body was slightly smaller than Hedlan’s now, and even with all her augmentations, was struggling to repair the damage, all the while her ass is still dangling above her. Suddenly a warning appeared: “Partner’s mental stability compromised, incoming interaction is no longer avoidable, do you wish to terminate session?” Toth was scared, her man was already so much bigger and she had nothing left to offer him in terms of energized fluids. But he didn’t care about that anymore, he couldn’t, his mind had been fried out by the expansion. All that was left was his primal urges and deepest desires… And her ass was floating helplessly in front of him with his slowly recovering cock pressed against her face. “Do you wish to terminate?” “No. Bring it on big boy.” If it killed her she wasn’t going to show cowardice in front of Hedlan, her recklessness and his lust for power were what made the two so compatible in the first place. Still, while she’d never admit it, she felt fear and despair as those giant fingers gripped her throat and a monstrous 30-meter cock was pushed further into her mouth. She only lasted long enough to feel his massive tongue stretch across her thighs before her body underwent an emergency coma shutdown to preserve her consciousness. Thankfully, despite the damage to her body, throat and jaw, her brain had survived with only minor concussions from two large testicles slamming into her repeatedly. Hedlan meanwhile was not nearly as effective at growing while in his lowered mental state. Sloppy tongue work, didn’t even try to keep her stimulated with his fingers, hell near the end his cock ripped her jaw clean off. Despite this however, the pressure of the wave-gym still slowly continued his expansion process until Toth’s body could fit in Hedlan’s hand. It wasn’t until Hedlan’s mind rebooted that the full severity of the situation hit him. As he awoke he looked around and saw he was still in the ocean. His mind quickly updated him “Sir, you’ll be pleased to know that you’ve now set a new personal record in height (134m) , mass (10,984lbs), and expected strength (38,000lbs).” This surprised Hedlan, he wasn’t used to waking up to a new record or even waking up to this size… Suddenly it came back to him as fear gripped his mind: “Toth”. He frantically searched around but couldn’t see her at all, it wasn’t until he looked up to see her floating unconsciously above him that the reality of his situation hit him. He blasted himself upwards off the 11,000lbs layer to inspect her body, and suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. Her brain was intact and functional, thus, she was alive. Still, Hedlan didn’t waste any time and quickly started to ascend the waters as fast as he could. As he swam upwards he had to take extra care that the sudden reduction of pressure wouldn’t harm Toth. Eventually he managed to meet up with the same athletes he sank past before and transmitted the distress call into them. They dropped everything and took Toth to the surface, stopping only briefly to marvel at the 130 meter tall giant among giants handing the still massive girl to them. At this range, Hedlan could communicate with the company finally. “SOS we have a severely damaged experimental model 96 coming up, priority 1.” And while it wasn’t transmitted, Hedlan was almost certain he could hear Naple groan: “Damn it Hedlan, not again…” It took time for Hedlan to replace the water inside his body with the lighter water, this was done not out of the necessity to swim upwards (he was fairly certain he could breach the atmosphere with the power behind his thighs now) but to prevent massive releases of almost invisible heavier water from being released and potentially crushing a lighter swimmer beneath him. But eventually he was able to breach the surface with a powerful shockwave against the otherwise undisturbed waters. Citizens all over the platform stood in awe of the gargantuan beast before them, like a lovecraftian monster this chiseled adonis with the strength to crush mountains with a single flick of his wrist burst from the calm sea, his pectorals glistening in the sunset as his breathing displaced the crack between the swollen muscles by several yards with each heave, his arms majestically covered in a variety of muscles ranging in thickness from the size of an extension cord, to that of a city bus, all crammed together in a perfect pattern like a fractal image drawn by Davinci. His abdominal layers didn’t work together like the breathing was coming from his lungs, they worked separately as if each mound was breathing for itself desperate for air like pigs suckling their mother’s teets. Beneath the waves the 500lb bodybuilders were in for a treat, the water crashed and flowed all over his chiseled legs and ass, while his powerful cock and boulder sized testicles radiated power like knowing a construction site is active by the sound it emits. As Hedlan lifted himself out of the water and onto the platform, the droplets of water sticking to his enormous back and legs caused massive waves to crash beneath him. Hedlan had already been updated about Toth’s condition, it’d be days before she’d be conscious again, but she would be fine. She’d need a new body of course, but there would be no long-term damage. Byron was waiting for Hedlan when he got up there, and for the first time, Byron looked up to Hedlan’s immense goliath of a figure. “Well well well, seems like we got a new poster child in town.” “Yeah a new poster child for the dangers of over-expansion, you were INCHES away from committing the first murder on this planet in 400 years!” Naple interjected from somewhere telepathically. “She’s alright though yes?” Hedlan replied “Barely!” Naple proclaimed. “And… I’ve got some bad news Hedlan…” Hedlan looked at his friend with worry as Byron attempted to do all he could to avoid eye contact. “The hive… Has reviewed your readings and the… incident… They’ve pulled your upgrade permits and banned you from all future upgrades for the time being…” Naple explained as he climbed out of Byron’s ear. “Just like me…” Byron said softly with sadness in his eyes. “So… This is my plateau… The biggest I’ll ever be?” “Yes… Unless science evolves… This will be you…” A silence between the three seemed to stretch out for eternity. “If… that’s the case, do I need to look for new employment?” “No, I pulled some strings and we’ve got a whole new set up for you, working with Byron!” “I’m sorry but I don’t think climbing inside the poster-child of titan-sport augmentations and apparel is as appealing to me as it is to you.” “Climbing inside? Oh no, you’re his new rival.” “Wait I’m the new…” A sudden realization flashed inside of Hedlan which brought a smile to his face. “So what you’re saying is I don’t actually get anything by compressing myself anymore.” “Uh… No. I guess, you’ll still need to workout but I don’t think compression is even allowed for you any more.” Byron chuckled. “Guess I’ll just have to get bigger the old-fashioned way from now on… Now, if you boys excuse me, I’m going to go talk to those giantesses down on south street, I promised Toth I wouldn’t waste time mopping about when I could be snapping someone’s spine in her place…” —-----------------------------------------------------------

So obviously you are free to make whatever interpretation about that father that you want, that is certainly your right. I'm just not sure how you came to the conclusion that Tait is an asshole to his son when there few chapters spell out pretty clearly how much Tait loves his family and his son: Although Tait wasn't religious, he had been raised with salt of the earth, mid-western values. So his first inclination was to marry Jess, stop football, and go to work. But, both Jess and her parents would not hear of it. They refused to allow Tait to give up his career and his future, even with a child on the way. Eventually, Tait agreed, but he and his family would provide everything Jess and Kane needed while waiting for him to go to the NFL. The Holden's lived up to every word - with Jess completing an MBA while waiting. Finally, in Tait's second year in the League, he and Jess married in a tiny ceremony in the prairie church in Nebraska where his family had married for generations. Tait deeply loved Jess and his boy. Though his looks and body made him a virtual pin up model with the expected continual offers of sex when he was on the road with the team - and sometimes right in front of Jess - he was absolutely faithful to them. They seemed to be on the road to long term happiness. But then the phone call came - There had been an accident on the freeway. Jess’s petite body stood no chance in the force of the impact, and she had passed from her injuries. Luckily Kane had been with his grandparents so he was unharmed. But Jess was gone. He was widowed at 30 years old. Tait was devastated. He decided at that moment to do everything he could to provide family and stability for his son, and to not risk his body again. Tait retired from football less than a month later. And rather than live on his well-invested football money - he had been paid over 38 million dollars in his career which had already almost doubled through wise investment - or become a coach, Tait decided to use some of his money to go back to his alma mater - Stanford. Tait was easily accepted into Stanford Medical School, graduating as a single dad with an MD and a PhD in what was then a new and upcoming field called Sports Psychology. After four years of residency at The University of Pennsylvania, Tait became a licensed sports psychiatrist. He was specifically approached and accepted a job offer from the NFL corporate offices in New York. He was commissioned to begin a new mental health services division under the contract that had just been negotiated between the Player’s Union and the League. Tait provided psychological services to any team organization, from mental health seminars and how to develop mind-body connection to interviewing potential draft prospects for teams from a psychological perspective. When Tait made that call to Kane, he was 44 years old. He had gone on to become the manager of behavioral health practitioners for the League and an incredibly respected NFL representative. He showed favoritism to no one, not even his old coaches and teams and teammates. And, as a former player, he was in particularly high demand to supplement mental health services and team doctors. Through it all, Tait saw to any need his parents, sisters, and son had that they could not meet for themselves. Tait was the man his father and grandfather taught him to be - a man who takes care of his own, protects his own, and provides for his own. Physical Giant, Retired NFL All-Pro, MD from Stanford – Tait really was an Alpha male force of nature. Given the man he was, as soon as he got a hint that his son may be in trouble, Tait dropped everything and flew to San Francisco. But alas, if you want to hate Tait (hey that rhymes!) then that is certainly your prerogative. To each their own.

The barn turned out to be Sam’s favorite place to train. He could do two hours of squats without having to worry about hogging the squat rack. He kept buying more weights, and used them to keep increasing his previous record. He challenged himself to squat until he puked, and then he could go outside and wretch his guts out without bothering anyone. Afterwards, his abs would spasm from the exertion, and his absurdly pumped legs would barely function. He’d hobble over to the Subzero refrigerator he and Kurt had installed. The only thing inside it was shelves full of antique glass bottles filled with the herbal concoction from Kurt’s ranch. Sam would down a bottle, then go over to the mattresses and crash out for a twenty minute power nap. When he would wake up, his legs were more pumped than ever, but they were no longer sore. He’d feel the veins that snaked down his quads, feeding his muscle. Then he’d grope his own ass and enjoy the hardness of it, the size of it. He swore his butt was gaining an inch of muscle with every leg workout. One day when he woke up from his nap, Kurt was standing over him. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Kurt said. Looking up at the towering, strapping sportscaster from the mattress on the ground was disorienting enough, but as Sam’s eyes focused, he saw the Kurt was holding something by his side. Something big. “I brought you a Valentine’s gift,” said Kurt proudly. He was holding a thick rope. A rope he had used to hogtie Hank with and bring him to the barn. The big arm wrestler had an apple stuck in his mouth and looked like a pig, ready for the spit. Kurt was holding him off the ground like a gym bag. “Oh my god, you didn’t kidnap him, did you?” Sam asked, sitting up. “Well, he didn’t exactly want to come voluntarily. So I used a little…coaxing. I decided to hogtie the little hog farmer.” He started lifting Hank up and down by the rope, using the 240lb meathead for one-arm curls. Hank was trying to talk, but the apple was wedged in deep, so all he could do was make grunting sounds. He did sound like a pig. He kind of looked like a pig too, with his pug nose, beady eyes, and ruddy, rounded face. Kurt walked over to the boxing ring and tossed him in. Kurt climbed in after him, and started untying him. “Come on in, I wanna watch you play with your new toy,” he said to Sam, as he tossed the rope aside and stripped Hank’s clothes off. Hank stood up, buck naked, a big bloated sack of over-roided muscle with a big set of pig nipples capping his broad chest. He took the apple out of his mouth. “I’ll get you for this,” the naked arm wrestler hissed. “Kurt, he’ll go to the police,” said Sam, walking over to the ring. “Nah,” scoffed Kurt. “What’s he gonna tell them, that the big scary man took him away for a boxing match? That’d be great for his reputation as a tough guy arm wrestler. Besides, he dropped out of the competition, claims his arm is injured, so what else does he have to do with his time? He didn’t come all the way from Georgia just to wank in his hotel room.” Sam climbed into the ring and looked Hank over. He had to admit, he was loving the idea of sparring with the cocky bloated juice head. Sam had been honing his skills, sparring with Kurt, and some guys from his gym. He discovered that his reflexes were faster, his punches more accurate, than when he was in college. And his strength, well, he had three times the strength he’d had back then, plus a hundred pounds more muscle to back his punches with. “I tell you what,” he said to Hank, “you do ten minutes of bare knuckle sparring, and I’ll take you back.” Hank looked at the handsome face across from him, and decided he could mess that pretty boy face up real good. All his years of training for arm wrestling, and he had forearms that were bigger than most guys’ biceps. One good punch, and he could smash his nose in. Then he’d go after the big freak that kidnapped him. Hank put up his fists and said, “Ok, deal.” But then Sam pulled off his oversized hoodie and tossed it out of the ring. “Fuck,” said Hank, his eyes widening, as he soaked in the vision of Sam’s 280lbs of shredded, veiny muscularity. Sam made his muscles ripple up and down, the fibers popping out all over, tight as harp strings. “Jeezus fuck,” said Hank, backing up. But before he had a chance to flee, Sam was on him, jabbing him with rapid fire body shots. Sam’s fists landed on the bulky farm muscle until Hank’s thick torso was welted and red. “Hit him back, Champ,” encouraged Kurt, and Hank took a couple of wild swings which Sam dodged like he had Spidey sense. knocking Hank off balancing and down to the mat. Sam helped him up, then let him hit him with some body shots, but Hank’s thick arms were no match for the armor plated torso of the musclebound weatherman. Especially his abs. Repeated blows to Sam’s midsection produced no results for the hapless arm wrestling champ. Then Sam returned a series of punches to Hank’s face, not hard enough to break bone, but hard enough to sting. Hank tried to block the blows with his hands, but Sam just maneuvered around him and kept jabbing, disorienting the younger man. Overwhelmed by the blows, Hank’s hands fell, and Sam kept jabbing, one stinging punch after another, until Hank’s knees gave out and he crumpled to the mat. They had been sparring for less than three minutes. Sam hadn’t even broken a sweat, but it was pouring off Hank and puddling around him. Sam knelt down beside him. “You ok, dude? You don’t look so good.” Hank was trying to remember where he was. Kurt threw a towel into the ring, and Sam started toweling Hank off. Hank’s body odor was rank, but it was turning Sam on. And as Sam rubbed down Hank’s balls, Hank groaned. He felt confused. Normally he would clock a guy for touching him anywhere, let alone his balls, but this was turning him on. Sam ran the towel down Hank’s ass crack, and Hank groaned more. Hank’s butt was furry, broad, and solid. A concrete block of ass. No one had ever touched it before, and it was making him bone. Sam tossed the towel aside and started massaging Hank’s hard glutes with his hands. “This is not my scene,” Hank said unconvincingly. “Ok,” said Sam. “Then how about this?” Sam rammed his index finger into Hank’s hole. “Oh fuck,” said Hank, his sphincter muscle clenching around Sam’s finger. Sam pushed in deeper and started flicking Hank’s prostate. Hank almost came. “Oh my fucking god,” he gasped. “Yeah? You like that? You want me to keep going?” asked Sam. “Oh fuck yeah. Go. Go go go.” “If you like this, I got something that’s gonna make it feel even better,” said Sam, whipping out his dick with his free hand. As he stroked himself hard, Hank looked back and saw the size of it. His sphincter twitched with fear and anticipation. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, but Hank flopped his arms over the bottom rope of the boxing ring, and the formerly cocky alpha presented himself to Sam like a beta baboon. From outside the ring, Kurt had been stroking himself too, as he watched Sam enjoying his Valentine’s present. He grabbed a bottle of posing oil they used for Sam’s contest prep, and tossed it to Sam, who used it to lube his eleven inch cock. Then he proceeded to breed his Valentine, brutalizing Hank’s oversized roided ass for the next hour and a half. When he finished, Sam pulled Hank off the ropes and flipped him onto his back on the mat. He straddled his new toy. Hank’s breath smelled like Red Bull and Skoal, neither of which Sam liked, but he found himself wanting a taste. He leaned down and kissed the battered redneck on the mouth. Hank couldn’t believe he was being kissed by a huge muscle dude and liking it so much. He couldn’t believe he just took a huge dick up his ass and liked it so much he was aching for more. His whole body throbbed in pain, but he liked that, too. He felt up Sam’s huge arms and flaring back muscles as they kissed, and he started getting hard again. All that size and power controlling him like a toy. He didn’t want it to end. And now, the massive hairy beast that kidnapped him was climbing into the ring, and headed over to them, looking like he was ready to own them both. Best Valentine’s Day ever.

Sorry for the long wait! Been super busy. Here you go. Thank you for the comments all! - Chapter 18 - family affairs Paul looked at Milos getting out of their car, and he saw the car getting slightly higher once Milos’ hefty weight got off it. The thought of that mass of muscles always made Paul weak in the knees. And his assertiveness, his cocky attitude was a winning cocktail that Paul could just not resist. But he glanced in the passenger seat and saw the massive, built arab looking like he completely filled the car, and could not believe how handsome and sexy he was. And he looked much bigger than Milos. Alex looked angry and muttered to his father “Why do you need to know? Does it matter? You are never home anyway!”. Suddenly the rear door of the car opened and someone got out of it. It was Alex’s mother. “Son, you should be nicer to your father, he had a hard day, and he cares for you. We drove for quite a while so we will all need to go inside and perhaps have a chat. And by the way this is our friend Mo” and she gestured to the big guy in the car. The door opened and slowly the massive mountain of muscle stepped out of the car. As soon as he grabbed the door with his big paw, it was obvious that the guy was enormous. As Paul stared at the beast, he saw the car lifting up for the substantial weight that left it, and he heard a metallic creak which just made the whole scene even hotter if at all possible. As soon as he was out he stood slowly at full height, towering on everyone but even more on Alex’s mother who was next to him. His size was almost as Alex when he was at his full glory. He slowly stepped towards Alex and gave him a good look. “Nice to meet you strong young man, your father told me about you. Nice muscles. Is that your friend?” Nodding towards Paul. Before Alex managed to respond, his mother took over the situation. “Ok stop you boys. Alex and Milos, let’s go inside. Mo, you better sit this meeting out for now. Hang around with your new friend (pointing towards Paul) or you can drive back to base, up to you.” Paul was surprised to see how everyone seemed to obey Alex’s mother like there was no other option, obviously there was something going on there and they were going to have some revelations for Alex perhaps, as Alex looked angry but at the same time curious and startled about the situation. They all stepped in the house, leaving Mo and Paul outside. It was quite warm, Paul was wearing footy shorts and flip flops, showing off his beefy legs, and he had a revealing tank, his body was definitely impressive although next to Mo he felt pretty small…and he didn’t know what to say to the hulk that was slowly walking towards him with a cheeky smile on his face. Paul was hesitant but muttered a nervous “Well, mate, you look pretty damn massive, you must be a pro bodybuilder or something?” Mo was looking at Paul and checking him out. “Well I love to train and get fucking strong, I bet you do the same, you got a killer body there. Man I am quite tired, don’t think I feel like driving back. How about I crash down at your place? If you don’t mind, I’ll be quiet and I’m happy with a sofa. Just taking my shoes off sounds like a dream, my big feet are very sore” Paul already looked at the size of Mo’s shoes and could only dream of those massive feet. He wanted to see. He needed to see. And the body. That body without that suit. What kind of incredible hard mass of muscles. He was excited, confused and a bit worried, but the sexual excitement was vastly winning. Mo seemed very relaxed and looked genuinely tired, so there was little hesitation. “Sure, well, come in, I have a sofa and I am alone this week, my parents are camping in the bush” They walked in and Mo’s weight made the floorboards creak heavily, making Paul even more excited. “Nice place,man really cosy. Do you mind if I take my shoes off?” said Mo, while taking his jacket off and revealing a shirt that was skintight, and detailing a massive outline of a mix between an offseason bodybuilder and a powerful linebacker. Paul almost gasped at the sight. “Ough…ooof course man, can I get you a beer or something?” “Oh I would rather have a glass of milk or a protein shake” Paul looked at the giant taking off his shoes, and went into the kitchen looking back a few times. Mo wasn’t looking and Paul had a very good perv at him while he was taking his socks off and revealing those hulking manly thick feet. “Sure I will make two shakes, get yourself comfortable” From the kitchen Paul peeked, not able to resist - he saw the size of his bare feet and he felt a jolt in his balls. The massive man, standing barefoot, started unbuttoning his shirt at his wrists and chest. He rolled up his sleeves and turned around facing Paul and getting towards the kitchen. As soon as Mo looked back, Paul nervously looked away, being caught perving. Mo looked tall, even barefoot, with his muscles now clearly outlined and exposed through the shirt. Paul could not hold back “fuck man you are massive, your arms are huge, and your legs…and feet. Fuuck.” Mo chuckled. “I get that a lot, thanks for having me here”, without giving Paul much attention he looked at the collection of protein powders and supplements in the kitchen, while Paul was nervously making the protein shakes. Paul wasn’t sure about what was going on the big guy’s head but he was hoping to get close to him, to his muscles, he was in awe. Mo grabbed the protein shake and lifted it up, gulping it down in a few massive sips. Paul saw the incredible size of the arm while he was downing the shake like it was his last meal. Paul was mesmerised “Wow man, your arms, I see you have elastic fabric for your shirt otherwise you would destroy it!” “Yeah that’s true man, this stuff is great “ as he flexed in a most muscular, looking at his own arms and the ridiculous massive peaked biceps. Looking satisfied from the shake, he muttered “Nice one mate, feeling much better. Now, can I take a shower, do you mind?” Mo started stripping off his shirt, looking at Paul. He slowly revealed his massive pectorals, big nipples, hairy chest and chiseled abs, struggling to get the shirt off and popping out his massive boulder shoulders from it. Last but not least his massive arms were visible in full glory. Paul thought he couldn’t possibly comment again on those incredible muscles and tried to keep that smooth “Sure I’ll give you a towel” Mo was noticing how Paul was into his muscles and felt a rush of muscle lust like an electric bolt of energy. He turned around and casually flexed his torso and arms, walking back to the lounge, where he slowly took off his pants. Paul’s dick was growing, and there was no stopping it. To see Mo’s chest and back was too much to handle. And to then see those humongous legs come to life in all their arab hairy glory was a total killer. Not to mention the huge calves.By then Paul’s cock was leaking hard. Mo turned towards Paul naked, except for his tight briefs. The look of the gargantuan arab giant was overwhelming, He looked solid like steel and sexy in a way that was making Paul weak at the knees. Then, Paul looked down and he saw the most massive bulge in Mo’s briefs. The outline of his balls and massive cock was so prominent that Paul felt the beginning of an orgasm build up. Shocked and without being able to not look at the python, he handed the towel to Mo nervously “Oh ehm. Here’s your towel, mate…” Mo took the towel and threw it on the sofa, looking at Paul with a casual yet interested look, focusing on his chest. “Paul, how about you take your top off and show me those pecs, they look pretty damn good.” Paul was now super nervous but also uber excited. He obliged in silence. He was in a very good shape, his chest was great and his pecs well defined and beefy. His footy shorts were now unable to hide the massive hardon he built up. Mo looked and nodded “Yeah, not bad mate, nice muscles” as he grabbed and felt Paul’s triceps and biceps. “Flex” Paul nervously did a double bicep feeling stupid doing that in front of a much bigger man. But it was a nice, friendly guy, and also arab, handsome, and also built as a fucking gorilla. Mo turned towards the big mirror in the lounge and flexed next to Paul “Arent’ we strong hey mate what do you think” Paul’s erection was now painful and a blob of precum stained visibly his grey shorts. Mo noticed. Looking at Paul intensely, he grabbed him with his massive paw and reassuringly mentioned “You like muscle, strength. I am a lot stronger than you think and you love that, I can see from your hardon. I think I should put you at ease and let my python grow too, I just need a little help. “ and he gently grabbed Paul’s hands and guided them to his huge pectorals, grabbing the juicy nipples. Paul grabbed them and felt the hardness of the muscles, and started playing with them and pulling them. In seconds Mo’s bulge grew. A lot. The massive snake uncoiled and sprung to life, tenting his briefs in a way that Paul has never seen before. Paul stared with his mouth open at the huge pole tenting up, threatening to rip the briefs to shreds. Mo grabbed his briefs with his massive hands and effortlessly pulled outwards, slowly shredding and ripping them apart. The anaconda sprung out, finally free, with a massive head oozing precum. As Paul dropped his shorts and briefs, letting his cock out, fell to his knees and felt his orgasm was building up like crazy, he abandoned himself and succumbed to Mo’s superior godly insane sexyness. He went for the kill and engulfed the apple-sized head with his mouth, tasting the juices and trying to take at least some of that huge pole in his throat. Paul’s hands were definitely big and manly, yet they were unable to completely grasp the pole, his fingers weren’t touching around it. That was a first. Mo’s pole was almost a full mast, after a few minutes of pleasure he grabbed Paul by his armpits and lifted him like a doll. Up and up, until his dick was close enough and then Mo sucked it hard. Paul grabbed Mo’s arms as he was lifted, and feeling the concrete slabs that were his triceps with all the veins and the hair, he could not hold it. He sprayed a full load into Mo’s mouth, who sucked him well dry. Mo let Paul go and he stumbled, almost falling for his exhaustion and thrill. Then went back to Mo’s cock, still super hard, and started pumping it, facing it directly and admiring the size and hardness of the head. Mo knew very well that his pole was about to shoot up explosively and that possibly meant smashing Paul’s skull instantly, although he found that extremely hot he was not there to kill his new friend. Then he had an idea. He pulled away Paul “Hey go in your kitchen and get a sturdy wooden slab, those ones you use to cut meat and stuff. Paul was confused but obliged. Mo grabbed the slab and positioned it right in front of his cock, as if he was going to smash through with it thought Paul? That seemed weird and insane. But in his mind he thought of the way that Alex cock was shooting up a bit, perhaps they shared the same peculiarity? “Trust me this is going to be fun, keep pumping my cock and then switch and pull my nipples really hard” Paul pumped his cock, watching the precum ooze, and then pulled hard the nipples of the huge man. Mo shuddered a little and then suddenly he felt a jolt, and his cock shot up in size and hardness, instantly, shattering the wooden slab and spraying around wooden shards around them. Mo was grunting like a gorilla “Yea, fuck yeah, unstoppable!”he grabbed firmly the remains of the slab in his hands and crushed them like they were paper, showing off his herculean strength. Paul was already aroused again and to see that in front of his eyes was incredible, he felt a second orgasm mount and he grabbed the elongated and even thicker cock, feeling its steel hardness. And Paul came again. “Now we both need a shower” Mo grabbed his pal and they both showered together, lathering their muscles and feeling each other's bodies. They dried up and Paul said “so you on the sofa, right? See you tomorrow” and Mo smiled, bearhugged Paul and they both went in Paul’s bedroom. Mo deep-kissed Paul and they went to bed, which creaked under Mo’s weight, explored each other and stayed hard most of the night… In the meanwhile at Alex’s, his mother was sitting at the table, with Milos and Alex ready for the talk. “Alex, you are a big man now so there are a few things we need to talk about. Let’s say we need to talk business, and my business is my life. But most importantly, and without too much chatting, let’s get to the point. I’m not your real mother. Let me explain what Milos and I exactly do. I think you might find it interesting.” TO BE CONTINUED

I have splitted one part in two, so I could post the first sooner. Hope you like it. PART 10 - Strength show While Sam and Robbie fell asleep right after fucking, Brett couldn't sleep. His mind was racing and his body was buzzing. He decided to clean up the room and put the boys in Robbie's bed. He cleaned his own bed with a towel, pushed it back against the wall and lay down. His eyes were closed and his breathing slowed. He could feel the warm breeze from the broken window on his body. His mind was calm, his thoughts clear. He thought about the night and smiled. This was what he wanted, he wanted to be a master, he wanted to have power over others. And he had it, he had proven himself. He could not be prouder of his achievement. He drifted off to sleep. Brett's eyes opened and he saw the sun coming through the hole in the wall where the window used to be. The morning rays illuminated the room, giving the air a slight orange tint. The heat of the sun felt wonderful on his bare skin. He looked down at his chest and admired the muscular perfection, the broad shoulders, the broad chest, the chiseled abs. The muscles weren't bulky, they were lean and strong. He flexed his arms and felt his biceps and triceps flex, his deltoids and traps tighten. "God, I love my body. Brett stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He felt great, refreshed and relaxed. He could not remember ever sleeping so well. He looked down at his crotch and admired the beautiful, huge, flaccid, thick penis. It hung limply over his massive balls, a bit of foreskin still covering the tip. He smiled, it was such a sexy sight, such a manly sight, such an impressive sight. He looked over at the window and the shattered glass and remembered how he shot his cum through the window, the feeling of his cock releasing its powerful load and the feeling of being the dominant, the king, the alpha. The feeling was extraordinary. He looked at his phone and checked the time. It was 9.15am. The night's rest had done his body good and he was ready to get moving. He decided to make breakfast and got out of his broken bed. He could not help but smile as he saw Sam and Robbie sleeping soundly in Robbie's bed. Robbie's back was turned to him, his gaping hole exposed, the shape of Brett's monster cock still visible. He thought about how he had fucked his little brother's asshole, the force of his cumshots shooting him into the air and onto the ceiling, his cum covering him completely. He walked over to the broken window to see where his cum shots had landed. He laughed when he saw the huge white puddles and the trail of cum leading to the front door beneath the window. It looked like someone had dumped a gallon of milk or something. Brett grinned and could not help but think of his cock and his cum and the way he had controlled his own pleasure, the way he had shot his seed, the way he had dominated and taken complete control. It was the ultimate form of masculinity, the ultimate expression of his power. It was pure dominance and it was astonishing. Brett felt extremely virile, he felt invincible. He had proved himself, he had shown his dominance, he had shown his might. His body was in top shape, his muscles were well defined, his physique was perfect. He had a huge cock, he had big balls and a massive load. He was a stallion and felt an adrenaline rush, his body was primed and ready. Sam and Robbie were in for a very exciting day. "Fuck, I'm so damn ready. Brett's mind was racing. He had to show off, he had to prove his strength, his masculinity. He went into his bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He couldn't stop smiling. He looked so good, so healthy, so strong. "Eu.. yeah.., I look so damn hot." He whispered to himself. He was so broad, the bathroom mirror couldn't contain his wide shoulders and large chest, his abs sculpted, his biceps and triceps bulging, his thighs thick and beefy. He got dressed, choosing a pair of short, ripped jeans that hugged his thighs tightly and revealed them through a few rips. The white wife beater wasn't too tight, leaving his arms and shoulders bare. His hair already had the perfect 'out of bed' look. After putting on a pair of sturdy dark brown leather combat boots, he went downstairs. After he had made breakfast, Sam and Robbie came into the kitchen. They were fully dressed and sat down at the table. They started talking about the incredible sex they had last night, Robbie was sore from it. Sam was drooling all over Brett, but they all decided not to act on it at the moment. They were all in anticipation of Brett's show of strength. Brett ate his food, a huge pile of bacon, sausage and scrambled eggs, along with a large glass of orange juice and a glass of milk. The breakfast was huge and his body would use it to fuel itself. The protein was important, especially the bacon. It was a key ingredient for building muscle and his body needed a lot of it. When they were finished, the three boys left the house and headed out to the farm. Brett had an idea that would showcase their power, but first they had to feed the livestock. This was done quickly. The boys now stood in the barn where the hay bales were stacked. They all had a slight pump from feeding the animals. "Remember when I called you on Thursday and curled a bale? Do you wanna see me do it now?" He asked Sam. "I saw you do it through the window," Robbie said shyly. "Haha, you shot your load right there, didn't you?" Robbie blushed. "It was so hot!" Sam said with a grin. "I blew a load too, as soon as you hung up." Brett grinned, knowing full well that Sam had shot his load. "Well, no shooting yet, but I'm gonna make you wish you could." Brett grabbed a bale by it's rope with his right hand. He stretched his arm down, his arm tensed, the muscles contracting, the triceps bulging, the forearm muscles tightening, the veins starting to pop. He slowly curled the bale upwards, the boys standing in front of him, watching him. "Fuck, your arm is so big." Sam said. Brett's eyes fell on his right bicep, seeing the muscles swell, the skin stretch. This was just a warm-up, making his muscles grow and get ready for the real thing. "Fuck, that's so hot." Robbie said as he watched his big brother's arm flex. "Grab one yourself and see if you can lift it," Brett said, not taking his eyes off his own arm. Sam and Robbie both grabbed a bale and held it with both hands, their arms straining. Sam couldn't do it with one arm, but managed to curl it a few times with both arms. Robbie couldn't curl it at all, while Brett just stood there, casually curling it up and down with his right arm, not taking his eyes off his own biceps. "Holy shit, this is heavy!" Sam said, breathing heavily. "Can you imagine how strong I am? I can do this all day and not break a sweat." Brett put the bale down. He needed more. He needed to show off more. He needed to assert his dominance further. He needed to make the boys want him more, if that was even possible. They had to feel the power he possessed. He grabbed a large length of rope, handed one end to the boys and walked ten feet away. The other end was in his right fist. "Let's have a little tug of war. You can pull with everything you've got, use your body weight. I will only use my right arm. Brett smiled, he was going to make the boys submit. He stood completely relaxed, legs apart, chest out, right fist holding the rope. The boys put their shoulders against the rope and began to pull. Brett didn't move, didn't even seem to notice. They put all their weight into the rope. It was like pulling on a wall. Brett's outstretched arm was pumping harder and harder. Veins bulged in his neck, in his temples, in his forearm. Brett could see the boys straining, their muscles rippling and their faces flushed. The rope was tense, the muscles in the boys' shoulders and arms flexed and strained. Sam had a good looking muscular body. His muscles became more pronounced as his torso was forced into a backward curve, his biceps bulging. But he couldn't even compete with Brett's right arm. "Oh yes, now you can feel my strength! Brett's whole body was tense, his eyes fixed on his arm. The boys were pulling with all their might, their veins popping, their muscles burning, their legs shaking. "Look at my arm, it's insane. The boys looked at it as they pulled. Brett raised his forearm a little and flexed his biceps. His massive arm was so thick, so round. The muscle was perfectly defined. The boys were sweating, the muscles in their faces clenched, their teeth gritted, their legs shaking, their cocks hard. The veins were extremely protruding, bulging, pushing through the skin. Slowly he raised his fist. Bit by bit he forced the boys to come towards him, their eyes fixed on his arm. "This is so fucking hot. I love being the strongest. His forearm got higher with each little pull, his bicep getting rounder, fuller. The boys were shaking, their veins pulsating, their eyes wide. The rope cut into their shoulders. They had no chance. They tried to fight back, but they couldn't. The giant arm was too dominant. They couldn't stop the rope from being pulled slowly and steadily towards Brett. He was the unstoppable force. He was the dominant animal. He brought the boys closer and closer, forcing them to bend down further and further, their legs trembling, their eyes watering. He flexed his biceps harder and faster. The boys couldn't take their eyes off the enormous mass, the huge curve, the thick veins. "You can't take your eyes off it, can you? You can't believe how strong I am." His biceps pulsed, his forearm tensed. His arm was an explosion of thick veins all over the place, it was ridiculous. He flexed, his blood pumping, his heart pounding. The boys were sweating, their legs shaking. Their eyes were fixed on the big arm, the huge bicep, the bursting veins. With a loud roar he gave his arm the final flex and his bicep became huge, round, solid, hard as steel. The boys lost their footing and were thrown forward by the force of the thrust, landing face first on the ground, right in front of their master. "Hahaha, yes, kneel before your master. He looked down at them, their faces red, their eyes watering. He held his right hand, holding the rope, behind his head. The bicep throbbed, the veins pulsed. The boys couldn't take their eyes off it. "How can something be so big, so thick, so powerful? Can you believe how strong I am?" They couldn't stop looking, they couldn't look away. "I bet I'm stronger than a bull, fuck! In fact, let's put it to the test." He walked outside and dropped the rope. The boys followed him and looked at the bull standing behind the steel fence. It was a powerful animal, an example of strength in a living creature, a true alpha beast. It had large and defined muscles, a big and sturdy head, and piercing, angry eyes. The horns made it even more dangerous. Robbie compared it to his own brother. It was incredible. Brett's muscles looked stronger, more defined, more veined, more dominant. His neck was just as broad, but there was no fat around it. The bull had massive balls, but Brett’s where probably bigger. Brett made a run for it, easily jumping over the five foot fence. The bull was in a primal state of aggression, it was a very powerful and dangerous creature, but Brett had no fear, only lust. He was in a state of total superiority. He needed to show it and he had the perfect opportunity. He was going to fight the strongest, the most dominant animal. Normally the bull would have gone on the offensive, but now it seemed to take the enemy into account. As if it were assessing its chances, as if it knew it could not just charge wildly. But it was angry, it was fierce, it had to defend itself. The bull stood firm, looking ready to attack. Brett stared back at the bull, a cocky grin on his face. The bull took a cautious step forward, lowering his head and preparing to charge. "Come on." Brett said, waving the bull towards him. The bull took a step forward, its hooves sinking into the ground, it snorted and shook its head. "That's it, come on, charge me. Come at me, you fucker!" The bull snorted and shook its head, its body tensed, it pawed at the ground, preparing to charge. Sam and Robbie watched. They could feel the tension, they could feel the bull preparing to charge, and they could feel the calmness of Brett. They had never seen a man like him. The bull was ready to charge, his muscles tensed, he began to run towards Brett, his hooves pounding the ground. Brett stood still, watching the bull approach, standing his ground. The bull ran faster and faster, the ground shook, it lowered its head, its horn pointed forward, its nostrils flared. The bull kept his eyes on Brett. Its powerful legs and hooves thundered over the ground. It came closer and closer, roaring and charging. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, COME ON, BITCH!" Brett had put his feet firmly on the ground and tensed his whole body. Veins popped everywhere, his clothes pulled tighter around his body. He was a giant, a massive wall of muscle. He stood his ground, his muscles flexed. The bull was almost upon him, its mouth foaming, its eyes filled with rage. Brett's abs were now visible through the fabric, each block popping forward like two rows of bricks. His pecs were tight, his arms were outstretched alongside his body, tense and slightly bent. His forearms were solid, the veins throbbing, his thighs were thick, the tendons stretched. Brett's entire body was tensed, his muscles contracted, the blood pumped, his heart raced, the adrenalin rushed through his veins. The moment of impact was approaching, the bull was ferocious and coming towards its prey at full speed. It had never been stopped by anything and was not about to let a mere human stop it now. Brett was waiting, watching the bull coming closer and closer. The bull's hooves pounded the ground, his nostrils flared, his eyes were full of rage. Brett didn't flinch, he just stared at the beast with a smile on his face. He felt his cock swell and harden. He felt the adrenaline rush, he felt his blood pump. The bull threw its head down and was ready to run down its opponent. A normal man would hardly survive such an attack, but Brett was confident. The broad horns would not hit his body; his waist was too tight for that. But the head alone would make a tremendous impact, the full weight of the big bull leaning in. "Brett, you can't! Move away! Sam and Robbie had no idea if Brett would survive this. They watched him closely. And then it came. The moment of impact. With a loud crash, the bull's head slammed into the man's abs. It was a hard and fast impact. Brett had expected it and didn't even budge. The bull had put its entire body behind the attack, and all its momentum had been stopped in an instant. It's rear was thrown in the air. It was like the bull had just slammed into a brick wall. "That's it, fucking bitch! The bull staggered, shook its head and looked at Brett with surprise and confusion. He looked around, dazed, trying to find his bearings. Brett looked at his stomach, seeing his abs bulge forward, the fabric straining against the massive muscles. "Holy fuck, you're a big fucker, but not as big as me. The bull snorted, its legs shook, it couldn't believe what had just happened. Brett smiled, his arms still outstretched, acting if nothing had happened. He saw the overwhelmed bull shrugging in front of him as it walked away from Brett, getting ready for a second attack. The scene repeated itself, the bull preparing to strike his prey. Brett was still standing as the bull picked up speed and ran towards the muscle-bound teen. This time Brett moved too, running towards the bull with incredible speed and agility. The top athlete pushed his right shoulder forward as he ran, like a footballer protecting the ball. The impact was swift and his opponent had no chance of weathering the storm. Brett threw the bull into the air as if he had knocked over a 2 year old child, it was madness. The bull let out a loud scream and fell a few yards away. Brett had softened the moment of impact, even holding back a little so the beast would not break everything. The quarterback showed yet again that he would be the top player at any position, inhuman to make a bull look like that. "Oh my fucking God", Sam was stunned. "How can anyone stop him? It's impossible", he thought. Brett walked towards the defeated power beast, grabbed the big horns with his thick claws, after which the bull immediately began to resist again. It tried with all its might to attack and get out of the musclegod's grip, but to no avail. Brett let the bull have his way for a while and could not hold back his laughter until he had had enough. He stepped in towards the beast and started putting pressure on the thick horns. The bull could no longer move its head, the hugely muscled arms were too much. Robbie and Sam were in disbelief. How could a man be so strong. Stronger than a bull. Brett put more pressure on the horns, pressing his thick fists together. "Let me break these things, the ultimate proof that I am the dominant one. Brett knew this would not hurt the bull much, as it has the same effect as breaking a nail on a human. He had to crush them with his hands, and he could. The bull tried desperately to break free, but it was impossible. "This is fucking insane. Look at me! Look at my power! The veins on his temples popped forward, the muscles in his neck were thick and pulsating. Brett's arms were huge, his biceps were so big. He had the bull exactly where he wanted it, and now he would finish him off. "You wanna see me break your horns, do you? Huh, I'm going to fucking destroy you. Brett pushed the bull's head forward and put more pressure on his horns. His massive arms strained, his forearms bulged, his biceps swelled, his triceps popped, his shoulders flexed. He pushed harder and harder, his body shaking, his muscles burning. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. "Fuck, yeah! Take it! The bull was panicking, he could not break free. Brett's body shook, his muscles were so tense, his veins popped forward. Brett could feel the horns bending. He could feel them giving way. He was unstoppable. The horns cracked and snapped in half under the enormous pressure, and Brett roared loudly, his voice booming through the field. The bull's head fell forward. Brett took a step back and released the broken horns from his hands. "Hahaha, take a look at this shit!" Brett roared with two half horns in his hands. The bull was bewildered, shook its head and snorted in confusion. Brett put his left hand on the bull's snout and lifted it up and flexed his right arm. "Do you see the size of that thing? Do you feel the power?" He said to the bull, as if it would understand what he was saying. He could see the bull looking at him, its eyes full of fear. He looked straight into its eyes. He let go of the bull and flexed his arms next to each other. "Look at those things, I could break any skull with those." Brett leapt on top of the animal, pressing his thick thighs against its waist. The bull groaned from the inhuman pressure. Brett dropped to his left, his right calf locked around the animal's torso. As he allowed himself to fall, the force in his calf caused the bull to fall to the ground with him. The animal fell onto Brett's left thigh, his right thigh trapping the animal's torso between his powerful legs. The bull was stuck in a scissors hold between Brett's meaty legs. Brett squeezed his thighs together and put his hands behind his head, flexing his washboard abs. His pecs bulged, his abs were rock hard and his biceps popped out next to his head as the bull was squeezed between his gigantic tree trunk legs. He tensed and squeezed his bulging quads closer and closer together, the bull's torso pressed deeper between his thighs as the beast growled. Brett had the strength to leave the beast lifeless, but that was not his plan. He relaxed his legs and pulled his left leg out from under the animal. As the beast remained defeated on the ground, Brett stood up, walked around the bull until he stood in front of its exposed belly. He placed his hands under the belly and slowly raised the animal. Sam and Robbie could not believe what they were seeing. The incredible show of strength against this primitive power beast was the ultimate demonstration of his status as top of the foodchain, the absolute alpha. To confirm that status, Brett lifted the animal higher and higher in his arms until he had his arms fully extended upwards. The bull hung helplessly above his head, its legs whirling down defeated. Brett's legs were spread slightly, as were his arms supporting the animal. Every muscle in his body popped, veins were visible everywhere, even through the fabric of his clothes. He looked like a god. A teenage muscle god. "Hahaha! Do you see this, huh?" Brett shook the beast, he could do whatever he wanted with it. The bull was helpless, completely powerless. It didn't even resist anymore. It was too exhausted, it had no more strength left. It was over, it had lost. He dropped the bull, which crashed to the ground with a loud bang. The bull lay motionless on the ground, its muscles tense. It had given its all, it had tried with all its might. But the result was inevitable, its fate was sealed. Brett left the beast to recover and jumped over the fence. "I'm so big... and so fucking strong. I could have crushed that thing if I wanted to. I could have done anything to it. I could have snapped its neck, I could have ripped its head off, I could have strangled it. It's lucky I'm not like that. I'm not a monster, not an beast. I'm an Alpha." Sam and Robbie were shocked. They couldn't believe what had just happened. Brett was more than just a man, he was a superman. He was an example of pure, raw strength. He was unstoppable, a true powerhouse, a dominant animal. "All right, we have work to do. I need your help. They walked over to his pick-up truck. The right rear tyre was flat and needed to be replaced. "I'm going to lift the back of the truck so you can take the flat tyre off. "Really?" "Yeah, you'll see." Sam and Robbie watched in awe as Brett walked around the car. "Stand here and watch," he told the boys. He took a deep breath and bent his knees slightly. His hands gripped the underside of the rear bumper, his arms fully extended. The boys were standing to his right. Brett's arms tightened, his muscles contracted, his triceps swelled. The muscles in his back bulged, the muscles in his shoulders expanded, his pecs swelled. His body started to shake. The boys were amazed. "Holy shit, you're doing it." Sam said in disbelief. Brett gritted his teeth and lifted the back of the truck off the ground. His neck flexed furiously, his jaw clenched. His thighs were straining in the short jeans, his calves were rock hard, his forearms and biceps rippled, the veins bulging. The striations in his shoulders and back were prominent. "Oh fuck." Robbie moaned, his shorts bulging. He started to stretch his legs, making the car go higher. His pecs were straining against the fabric of his wife beater. The straps on his shoulders were raised up on his traps and pushed out on his delts. "Shit, oh God. Sam groaned. His body was shaking and sweating. His biceps strained, his muscles tensed. He kept lifting the car, slowly lifting it off the ground, the back end slowly tilting upwards. Finally he was standing upright. "Oh God." Robbie groaned. Brett was holding the back of the truck, keeping it in the air. His thighs were shaking, his biceps were flexed. "Fuck yeah, look at it!" He said with a grin. His eyes roamed his body, watching his muscles. "Look at my guns." The boys were drooling. "Oh my God, you're amazing." "You have no idea how strong I am." He looked at his arms, his eyes following the thick, strong veins. His arms were trembling, his thighs were vibrating. He held the car for a while, his whole body shaking, his muscles bulging, his veins protruding. His body glistened with sweat. He felt the urge to curl up the back of the car. He stepped closer and slowly tried to bend his elbows, pushing his fists higher. "I need to curl it," he grunted. His eyes were on his arms, his triceps bulging and contracting. The veins were straining, his pecs were bulging, his abs were flexing. "God, that's so hot." Sam breathed. He was sweating like crazy. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were shaking. The veins in his forearms and biceps were popping, the cords pulsating, his muscles tensed. From the side his arms looked like a bunch of cables and the size was just ridiculous. His body was shaking and sweating. He was pushing his body to the limit. "You're so fucking strong, I can't believe you can do that." Sam said. Robbie was silent, he just stood there staring. His dick was tenting his shorts. "Just a bit more," Brett grunted, his voice strained. His fists got higher, his biceps rounder, the back of the car went up higher. "Fuuuuuuuck." Sam groaned. "You're so fucking strong. Brett could hear Sam moaning, it stimulated him even more. "Oh God, I can't take it anymore." Robbie said, his shorts bulging. "You can do it." Sam said, his voice filled with lust. Brett had his eyes on his arms, watching the muscles swell. The straps of his wife beater were stretched in every direction. The shirt was riding up at the hem, exposing the bottom row of his abs. The denim shorts were stretched tight around his thighs, his crotch was bulging and his legs were shaking. His face was tense and sweaty. "So big.. so strong," Brett groaned. He was still working out, his muscles bulging, his forearms and biceps throbbing. His pecs and abs were straining against the wife beater, his back and traps against the straps. His fists were only inches from his chest. "Oh my God." Robbie moaned. "I can't take it anymore," he panted. "Come on Brett, just a little bit more," Sam pleaded. Brett's eyes were still on his arms, watching the muscles. "Yeah, I got this," he groaned. He was almost there. The back of the car was so close. "Fuuuuuuuck," Brett screamed. His biceps flexed and his triceps ballooned. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sam panted. At last his arms were bent up to his chest, his fists touching his pecs, the back of the truck hovering above the ground. "You're so strong, I can't believe it." Sam groaned. The biceps looked bigger than ever, the size was extreme. "I need more! I need to curl it." He started to bring his fists down, the back end slowly lowering, the weight becoming more and more apparent. "Oh my God." Robbie moaned, his eyes wide open. Brett's body was shaking, his legs trembling. He brought his fists down further, the car getting lower and lower. It was the ultimate display of muscle control. "Fuuuuck," Sam moaned. As the car lowered, Brett's arms were stretched further down, all done by impacible balans. The veins of steel were everywhere, from the base of his neck to the tips of his fingers. He lowered his arms until they were fully stretched down. "I'm so strong," Brett grunted. His eyes were fixed on his arms, his biceps were huge. The insides of his elbows were completely filled with massive veins, the thickest bigger than a finger, just like the one on his biceps. His forearms and hands were bulging, his wrists were swollen. The tendons and striations were prominent. The fabric of the wife beater was straining, the threads stretching, his chest was flexed, his nipples pointing straight down. His face looked angelic, some hair hanging over his sweaty forehead, his eyes bright, his tongue now sliding over his lips. "Look at the size of me, I'm so fucking big." He started to curl the car up again. His biceps rose, the veins straining. "Holy shit." Robbie gasped. The back of the car was slowly rising. It should have been getting harder for him to lift it, but instead it seemed to only be getting easier. "How the fuck." Sam groaned. It looked like the car was getting lighter, but of course it wasn't. Brett was only getting stronger, his body working harder and harder, his muscles contracting more and more. He kept curling the car higher and higher, his biceps contracting more and more. By the time he had curled it all the way up, his arms looked insane. "Look at the size of them," Brett said, fascinated. And Robbie did. He stared at his arms. His elbows were wide and strong, the veins in them throbbing like steel. The muscle mass in his biceps was enormous, the skin so tight that it looked as if it couldn't contain the muscles underneath it. His biceps were something out of a comic book, mountains of muscle with a crazy amount of veins. They were the size of footballs with bowling ball sized shoulders on top, only heavily striated and vascular. The forearms were bigger than most men's biceps, the wrists thicker than most people's ankles. Robbie scanned the entire body of his big brother. His sturdy boots were massive, the ankles pushing the leather far apart. His calves were overdeveloped, the tendons thick and prominent, the skin toned, the muscles rock hard and angular. Brett's thighs were enormous, the denim shorts clenching around them. The heads of his quads stuck out far, the inner ones almost covering his massive knees, veins crisscrossing them all. His ass stuck out backwards, the denim tight around his buttocks. The round butt was the hottest one can possibly imagine. Strong enough to break a baseball bat. The wife beater crept up, the bottom row of his abs still exposed, the treasure trail running down into his shorts. The fabric clung to his body like a second skin, each block of abs clearly outlined. His pecs were sticking out inches, the shirt tight around the massive slabs of meat. The straps were straining on his traps, getting smaller by the second. His neck looked like it was carved out of marble, veins and muscles protruding from every side. And his face... his face... "Oh God, his face..." Robbie was entranced by the beauty of it. His jaw was wide, his cheekbones high and sharp, his lips full and wet. His nose was strong, his forehead broad. His eyebrows were thick and macho. His eyes... his eyes... Robbie would have given his life just to look into them, to let them look into his soul. The impossible ocean-green colour, the long dark lashes, the dark rings around the iris, the deep black pupil in the centre, the perfect white. You couldn't help but fall into his eyes, you wanted to swim in them, to lose yourself in them. His face was so masculine, yet so tenderly beautiful. His skin was so soft, so perfect, so smooth. The beautiful dark hair fell across his forehead, the long, full waves framing the perfect face. And if that wasn't enough to underline his masculinity, there was his horse-sized cock. That alone would be pure machismo. When hard, it was a whopping 13 inches of prime meat sticking out in front of him, a cock as big as a human forearm, a cock so thick and hard that the veins looked like they were about to burst, a cock with a mushroom head big enough to cover the entire palm of your hand, a cock so big and veined that it was the most manly cock you could ever imagine. And to have it attached to such a godlike body was too much. The bulge in his jeans was clearly visible. How could it be contained? "You can't stop slobbering all over me, can you bitches? Robbie awoke from his translike state to find that he was literally drooling. He looked to his right and saw Sam in the exact same state. "Oh my god.. " Sam mumbled, his eyes glued to his friend's body. Brett grinned. "You're drooling, bitch." Sam quickly wiped the drool off his mouth. "Fuck, you're so sexy." Brett had to take this further, he wasn't finished yet. He began to change the position of his hands. He slowly turned his hands around, palms up, thumbs up, fingers on the outside of the bumper. He could see his forearm muscles and the veins in his wrists pulsing. His biceps tensed and flexed. His hands went up and the bumper came with them, his fingers pointing to the sky. The muscles in his arms were flexing. His face was focused on his hands, his eyes moving along the huge veins, his lips parted slightly, his tongue moving over them. The bumper was now pointing upwards, his arms stretched upwards. "Ooh yes.. So strong." Brett was enthralled by his own intimidating muscularity, in awe of his own strength. His arms stretched even further, his biceps flexing, his traps and lats straining. Robbie and Sam could feel the power emanating from their master. To be in his presence was intoxicating, to feel the power radiating from his body was overwhelming. He was a being of pure power, a god among men. The two boys could feel the electricity in the air, they could feel the hairs on their arms standing up. It made them completely submissive, it made them want to obey, to submit, to worship, to be owned. It made them want to get down on their knees and beg him for forgiveness, for mercy. It made them want to do everything he said, to make him happy, to give him all. Their own will was gone, there was nothing they wanted more than to be his slave. Their eyes were filled with awe, submission, devotion. They could only submit to him, they were actually nervous in front of him. Brett noticed this and felt a rush of excitement, a rush of power. It was a feeling like no other, a feeling he had never experienced before, a feeling like a god. This was an exhilarating and intoxicating rush of adrenaline and testosterone. This was the ultimate rush, the ultimate feeling of dominance, the ultimate power trip. This was the most powerful feeling in the world, this was a feeling that made him want to rule the world, to be worshipped, to be adored, to be loved. "You're a fucking stud, you're so fucking strong." Robbie stammered as he felt the gaping hole in his ass from last night's fuck. Brett's arms stretched higher and higher, the back of the car hovering over his head. His eyes moved from his biceps to his hands. The front bumper of the car came closer to the ground as the back went higher. He had his hands above his head, took a step forward and gave his arms the final push. "Yeeees." He groaned. He brought the car over his head, his eyes looking up, his arms tensed and shaking. His arms were slightly bent, the front bumper was touching the ground. He looked absolutely massive, his wife beater exposing the bottom four of his granite abs and his biceps were like two tree trunks attached to his shoulders, his lats were straining against the fabric and his traps looked like a small mountain range on his neck. "Oh God, this is so hot." Robbie whimpered. Sam just stared at him, his mouth open, his dick leaking cum in a steady stream. "Can you believe how big I am? How strong I am?" Brett asked in a stunned state of mind. "I'm so fucking big and strong, everyone wants to be like me." "So hot, you're so hot," Robbie moaned. Brett's eyes went down to see his massive bulge pressing into his shorts, his balls felt heavy and swollen. "I'm fucking big everywhere." He looked at his thighs, the denim was straining and the striations were showing, the muscle size insane. His bare knees and quads where trembling. He couldn't comprehend the power in his body, the size. Brett stood there, his eyes moving all over his body, taking in every inch, every muscle. He needed more. He slowly lowered the truck and brought his fists back to his chest. He let the weight fall onto his bent right arm. He slowly straightened his left arm along the bottom of the truck, dropping the weight onto his shoulder. He carefully turned his body 90 degrees to the right, facing his worshippers. The weight of the car fell more and more on his shoulders and he slowly stepped sideways towards the centre of the car. His right arm stretched out more and more, parallel to the ground. The truck's rear sank further, its balance shifting towards the centre. "He can't.." Robbie mumbled. Brett felt the balance shift, he looked at the front of the car as he bent forward to carry the car on his back. He continued to move towards the centre of the car, the weight of the car falling down more and more, the balance shifting completely, the front wheels slowly giving over the burden. He adjusted his arms, bringing his hands more behind him, while his arms were still outstretched, his dinner plate claws flat against the floor. He was now ready to lift the front of the car fully off the ground. Bending his knees, he took a few steps sideways until he was completely in the middle. The back of the car had come down with him, the front rising with every step he took. He could feel his lats straining under the weight. "Fuuuuck, look at his fucking lats," Robbie gasped. They had expanded enormously, the whole back of the shirt was stretched, his traps were popping out, his pecs were pushing against the fabric and his biceps looked huge, the muscles strained. "I'm so fucking big and strong. You want to be me, you want to be like me." Brett said, unable to comprehend the amount of strength in his body. Now the weight of the whole truck was being lifted by the godlike teenager. The sight was incredible. He was crouched with his arms spread behind him, the truck completely off the ground and the weight falling on his massive body. He was like Atlas carrying the earth on his back. Veins pushed through his shirt. His neck was as wide as two men's, the strength inhuman. His wings were broader than ever. They had always looked like they could carry a car, but now it was actually happening. His trunk-sized arms carried the balance of the car to perfection, his mountain-sized traps possessed the strength of a god. His pecs strained against his shirt, his nipples erect, the size insane. The veins in his forearms were throbbing. His thighs and feet were straining against his denim shorts and boots. All the wheels were the same distance from the ground, in perfect balance. "You're carrying the car," Sam gasped. "You're fucking incredible." Sam and Robbie just stared at him, their eyes wide and their jaws dropped. Brett wasn't done yet. He began to stand up. Slowly his body straightened, his legs exploding even more, the thickness and veins showing. He could feel the truck rising slowly as he continued to stand up. His thighs pushed the weight up, making them strain more than ever. His jeans were incredibly tight, the bulge pushing the buttons. With every inch upwards, the shorts gave in more, until they couldn't hold it in any longer. The first button shot off, the bulge was completely penetrating the buttons. His cock was getting harder and harder, the head starting to stick out of the denim shorts and riding up towards his exposed navel. The thickness was insane. "Holy fuck." Sam whispered. "So big, look at the size of his cock." Brett's eyes drifted down, his cock growing hard, his shorts stretched wide. He could see the fabric giving way, his shorts straining and the seams pulling. His balls were pressing hard. The next button shot of. "Fucking huge," Brett said, his voice was getting lower, deeper. He pushed his legs harder, making him stand taller and taller. "Oh yes, oh yes." He could feel the strain on the shorts, he could feel the fabric stretching. The seams were starting to tear, the fabric was pulling. He gave his legs the final push, his muscles expanding, his cock growing to stand at its full 13 inches, the final buttons flying off. "Fuuuuuuuuck." Brett groaned. The moment his legs fully straightened, the fabric ripped on all sides, the denim shorts shooting off his body in all directions. His cock came flying out, its length stretching far in front of him. It was like a rocket shooting out, the thick flesh swinging wildly. The head was the biggest anyone had ever seen, a baseball sized mushroom that was bright pink, the veins thick and protruding. A large drop of pre-cum appeared and the head twitched, causing the drop to fall to the ground. The balls were huge, the sack was tight and his balls were hanging heavily, the size was insane. "Holy fuck.. you bursted through your shorts." "I'm fucking huge, I'm fucking incredible." Brett growled. He was like a titan, his body an absolute monstrosity, his strength insane. He was the embodiment of a true alpha male. And he wasn't done yet. He was about to perform the ultimate lift, something that hadn't been seen since the days of Hercules. "I can do anything," he whispered. He put his right leg slightly in front of him and slowly bent his upper body forward, allowing the weight of the truck to fall further down his back. He carefully placed his flat hands next to his head. His back muscles swelled, his traps exploded, his lats grew, his traps rose, his pecs and biceps tensed. His arms were flexed, his hands were placed further out. His traps and lats tensed more, his wings grew, his lats expanded. His traps looked like a small mountain range on his shoulder blades. His cock was getting harder and harder, he could feel the strength, the power in his muscles. The rim in his armpit was pulled tight by the bulging muscles in his shirt. His breasts stuck out so far and his traps were so high that the straps of his shirt stretched even further. Slowly he increased the pressure of his arms, stronger than a bull. His big hands pressed against the underside of the truck, his legs spread slightly and standing firmly on the ground, supported by those massive feet in the army boots, the edges of which also appeared to be snapping. "Holy shit." Sam panted. Brett felt the truck rise. His traps and lats began to spread, his body shaking. The pressure of his hands against the underside of the car increased. He could feel his muscles tightening. "Fuuuuck." Sam groaned. Slowly his arms went from the 90 degree position to the 45 degree position, the car going up. The weight was slowly lifted from his shoulders to be supported entirely by his hands. "So fucking big." Brett groaned. His body shook as the truck slowly rose. His lats and traps were straining, his hands pressing against the car. "He's actually doing it," Robbie panted. The shirt was pulling on all sides. Brett continued to curl upwards, his muscles contracting. The car slowly came up over his head. "OH YES! I'M SO STRONG." The truck was elevated far off the ground. He slowly lifted it above his head, his eyes going between his lats and arms, seeing the iron veins and muscles. He couldn't believe his eyes. His muscles were so defined, his skin was paper thin. Every fibre was visible, every vein revealed. They were fighting for space on the surface. They were like snakes slithering over his muscles. The sight was beyond astonishing. His lats had never been so wide and strong, his traps were higher than ever, his traps and his back connected. "I AM A GOD AMONG MEN, LOOK AT THE SIZE OF ME. LOOK HOW STRONG I AM." Sam and Robbie just stared at him, unable to speak. Their jaws dropped. Brett looked bigger than ever, his veins, striations and muscles insane. Brett had to push himself higher, he had to manhandle his own car. He needed to see how strong he was, how big. He looked like the Hulk in a wife beater, the fabric stretching and his body shaking. He pushed harder and the car went higher. He stood there with the truck over his head, his legs spread, his feet firmly planted. He pushed with everything he had, bulging like never before. It was inhuman. It was insane. Every muscle in his body was exposed, as if there was no skin to hide it, every fibre in his body was pushed to the limit, to it's full potential. Brett's pecs bulged so far, his nipples pushed so hard they tore through the fabric of his shirt, his nipples bursting into view. The wife beater was pulled back into his back. His pecs were huge and round, so big his breasts had become a shelf, the fabric stretched so much. The straps of his shirt were stretched to the point of being as thin as dental floss, until they snapped from the sheer force and size of the mountains of traps. The remaining cloth clung tightly to his body, but struggled to hold on. The car went up for the last few inches, his body straining to the max. Brett grunted, his muscles continuing to swell, the veins throbbing harder. There was no way, there was no more room. The muscles were expanding, searching for their new limits. The shirt couldn't hold them anymore. As his arms pushed the car to the limit, the shirt flew off on all sides. The rims in his armpits tore, the sides of the shirt gave way, his pecs and upper four abs burst through the fabric. "AAAAHHHH, THAT'S IT!!! The truck rested completely on the massive arms. "OHHH FUCK, LOOK AT ME! I'M FUCKING AMAZING, SO BIG, SO STRONG!" Brett roared in victory. His muscles trembled, they where literally shaking. Robbie and Sam could hardly believe what they were witnessing. Brett was standing there completely naked except for his combat boots, his arms supporting his truck stretched completely over his head. The size of his body, his muscles, his cock, it was mind-blowing. It wasn't that they had actually grown, but they were like they were going to explode. So many veins, so much definition, there were ridges of muscle everywhere. If his skin didn't hold them in place, everything would seem to burst apart. Brett could feel that his muscles were about to explode. He felt there was no more room for them, he felt he had to help them. He had to create the space. "YOU'RE THE ULTIMATE GOD, YOU'RE SO FUCKING HOT." Robbie cried. Brett began to curl his fingers, digging them through the floor of the car. He dug through the metal, ripping the floor apart. His hands sunk deeper and deeper. The muscles in his triceps were the most swollen they'd ever been, they were so large they seemed to cover his whole arm. The strength was inhuman. He had to form his fists to release his inner strength, as a person does when fighting. He could feel the power growing. His body was shaking. The muscles were pushing harder. "OH GOD, FUCK!" Robbie cried. Sam just stared. Brett was shaking with power, the adrenaline pumping, the strength building in his body, the muscles swelling. He could feel the growth coming. He knew his muscles would continue to expand, he felt his whole body begin to grow. He had been a tall and muscular teenager before, but now he was to become a hulk, a titan. A beast, a god, a true Alpha. The boys saw his biceps expand and contract, his skin stretch, the muscles bulge outwards. His veins throbbing, blood rushing through his body, his muscles being pumped full of oxygen, growth coming. The boys could see the muscle fibres shake and pulse. It was like steel coming to life. His veins were pumping faster, power and energy coursing through his body. He was expanding, he was growing. The veins were pulling away from each other, the muscles were expanding and filling in the gaps, the size was increasing, the definition was insane. "I'M SO STRONG!" His biceps were bulging, his chest was swelling, his legs were extending, his cock was pulsating. Power was rushing through his body. His muscles were developing. He felt the growth, his body changing, expanding. "OOOOOH, YES! I'M GROWING!! Brett flexed his muscles. As they grew, his body had to adapt to their new proportions. He straightened his legs and arched his back as far as he could, the car lifted even higher. He felt the power rush through his body. He was getting larger. "You're fucking incredible." Robbie moaned. Very slowly the boys could see Brett getting taller as his muscles grew all over. It brought everything back into perfect proportion. His body was getting longer and thicker all over, his cock was expanding, the veins throbbing. The balls were getting heavier and the shaft was growing thicker. "I'M GROWING, I'M FUCKING GROWING." Brett cried. His feet and hands were expanding, the combat boots tearing, the leather falling apart. "Oh fuck." Sam moaned. His cock was leaking a steady stream of pre-cum, making his cock shine and drip. The head was throbbing, the veins swollen, the glans was pulsing, the size was huge. His balls were swollen, his legs were growing, his feet were exploding, his arms were shaking, his shoulders and traps were spreading, his lats were getting wider, his chest and pecs were growing. "HOLY SHIT!" "I'M BECOMING SO MASSIVE." When the growth was slowly subsiding, the transformation was complete. The boys couldn't believe their eyes, the sight was unbelievable. Every muscle had to have grown an inch in size, even his dick. He was at least 6.9 feet tall. "So fucking big, so strong. You're so hot." Robbie moaned. Brett was a monster, the strongest, the biggest, the sexiest man alive. "You're the ultimate god, look at you, so strong and powerful. You're fucking amazing, so beautiful." Sam groaned. "I'm losing my mind, it's.. my god.." Brett could feel his own power, the muscles were so heavy, so hard. His cock was throbbing. He couldn't stand it any longer. "FUUUCK!" He growled, his voice so deep, the sound so rough, the tone so deep and powerful. "Oooooohhhh!" Sam moaned, his cock was dripping, his jeans were stained. Brett's fists had been squeezed through the floor of the car, giving him a good grip. He brought his fists back, making the car do the same, and gave his arms a strong push. The car flew over his head and crashed to the ground in front of him. The ground shook, Brett's cock throbbed and released another spurt of pre-cum. The truck was a pile of metal, it was completely destroyed. He was immediately completely lost in lust over himself. He had to feel himself. His hands ran all over his body. "Oooh shit, I need to cum so bad!" Brett walked to the barn, impatient to trigger his huge explosion. It was too much for him. The display of power was immense; he could not believe how much power he possessed. He had just destroyed his truck with his bare arms, how much masculinity can you demonstrate? And it was all him. It was just too much. The boys followed him as he grabbed the rope they had used during the tug-of-war and tied one end around his thick cock. "I'm gonna cum so fucking much." Robbie's face lit up. "Oh fuck yes." "And you're about to make it happen, baby bro! You're gonna play tug-of-war against my dick." Robbie couldn't believe his ears. Did he have to play tug-of-war against his brother's dick? How would that work? Brett gave the other end to Robbie and instructed him how this game would go. Robbie could not believe his ears. He had to tug against the mighty cock and try to pull the rod down, while his brother would only flex his pole. On the one hand, Robbie thought this would be impossible, surely he should be able to pull a cock down? But on the other, it was the most extraordinary colossus, seemingly solid as a pillar. Veins crisscrossed its surface, blood pumped through it like through a normal man's entire arm. So it would be quite a challenge for Robbie, and besides, Brett had been a constant source of amazement to him with his inhuman strength. Brett had the rope tied tightly around his rock hard cock, Robbie standing 8ft away holding the other end of the rope. Sam was standing in between the two of them at an appropriate distance from the rope to watch the spectacle unfold. All the cocks were rock hard, all eyes on the biggest of the three. "Sam, you count down." Robbie lifted the rope, pulling it slightly so that it hung completely in the air, from his brother's cock to his own hands. "All right, ready? 3, 2, 1.. GO!" Robbie immediately began to pull on the rope with both hands, but quickly realised that there was hardly any movement in the cock. That was the signal for him to throw everything he had into the fight. He threw his body weight backwards, his heels digging into the ground, but it was to no avail. The knot around Brett's cock tightened, the cock thickening as the blood supply stopped. The veins popped out even further, the pole standing proudly. "Holy shit, so fucking strong." Robbie panted. The prick continued to swell, and the thicker it got, the more horny Brett became, which had the effect of making him even harder and firmer. Brett placed his hands behind his head, his muscles popping out of his body. It worked extremely stimulating, Robbie was less and less able to win the tug-of-war. Not even to get the cock moving anymore. Brett lost himself in lust over his cock that was now bigger than ever. The head was extremely large, the shaft thicker than his powerful wrist. It made the fight no longer about Robbie and his cock, but more about the rope and his cock. The knot was struggling to resist the swelling from his member and had to give in to the pressure. The rope was getting thinner and thinner. He felt himself climaxing more and more. The pressure Robbie put on his cock was simple to resist but incredibly stimulating. Slowly his load rose, he felt it bubbling up from his balls. The cock looked like it had a huge explosion coming. The pressure from below, from his balls, increased, the cum seemed to be gathering. All eyes were on the collosal horse cock. "Oh yeah, it's coming, I'm going to burst!" Robbie pulled on the rope with all his might, put it on the highest tension he could. It didn't budge, Robbie sweated himself to death, sensing that it was a fight he could never win. But he didn't care, he saw what it did to his big brother's cock. "Fuuuckk! My cock is stronger than your whole body! Can you believe how that makes me feel?" The cum continued to mount, Brett felt it enter his shaft. But this time he didn't just feel it, he could actually see it happening. His cock swelled even further from the base where the cum was making its way toward the exit. The firm rope slowly grew thinner and thinner and now his rising load was also pressing against the pinch point. "I can rip body's apart with this fuckpole! Ooh, goddamn, it's so hard, so strong! Just look at it!" The force and pressure of his cum was too much. Brett tensed all his muscles, flexing his arms behind his head, straining his buttocks together and pressing his hips forward. "Oh yeah, here it comes!" With a bang, the rope shot off his cock from the immense pressure of the thickness and the mounting cum that had to unbuckle. It was like a champagne bottle losing its cork from the pressure of the carbon dioxide. Robbie flew backward from the sudden loss of resistance as the rope lost the fight. Brett's load shot further through his cock like a rocket and exploded out of the extremely wide-open piss split. What came out was unprecedented. It was like emptying a carton of milk after someone had pounded it. The discharge was so thick. It was an impossible collection of white sticky liquid, as thick as a fist. Only much longer. It was one long string of semen like a fire hose squirting. It shot straight to the roof of the barn and popped through it, meters high and far. A long stream of semen that descended a little further and further, tearing the roof by the force of it. Like a high-pressure sprayer shooting through the roof. And it was only the first shot. Brett didn't even stroke his cock, he was completely lost in self lust, kissing his biceps, touching his huge chest, his nipples, feeling his abs, his traps, his neck, his lats, his back, his ass, his thighs. "OH FUCK! MY COCK IS FIRING!" A second and a third shot was fired and tore through the roof, the force was insane, the quantity and volume was beyond anything ever thought possible. The sound was unreal, like a high-powered water jet blasting. Robbie was still on the floor, but couldn't resist and had pulled down his shorts and started jerking himself off. As did Sam by the way, he was already jerking off when Brett's pole completely dominated the tug-of-war. Both watched with eyes as big as saucers and their jaws dropped to the ground. They couldn't believe their eyes. The roof was destroyed. Brett continued to feel his body, stroking and squeezing every part of his super muscular frame, his body glistening with sweat, his muscles throbbing, the veins swollen. He felt his cock and rubbed it, but didn't want to stroke it. The cum continued to shoot, the shots were not as high as the first, but they were equally powerful and thick. The pressure from the base of his dick had decreased and the shots were no longer firing like a cannon, but more like a firehose. And it kept shooting, and shooting. The sound was incredible, the force of the shots was insane, the roof was destroyed and the whole barn was splashed white. "Oh my god Brett! Fuck me, this is so fucking hot. Fuck!" Robbie moaned. He was stroking his cock, looking at his older brother's body and the destruction it caused. He had never seen anything like it. He couldn't take his eyes off Brett. He couldn't stop jerking off. "Fucking hot." Sam moaned as well. They had both removed their shorts and stroked their dicks, looking at Brett, his body and his cock. Brett was moaning and now stroked his cock, aiming it towards his little brother and friend, shooting all over them, the white fluid raining down on them. He jerked and shot and moaned and groaned, the sound was loud, the cum was thick, the pressure was immense, his body was glistening with sweat and his muscles were trembling. "AAAAHHH FUCK! "SO MUCH, OOOOHH. "CUM, CUM, FUCKING CUM!" Shot after shot was fired. When the flow began to wane, he aimed his cock straight up, leaning forward and pushed his mouth towards his cock. He sucked his cockhead into his mouth and let the last shots fill his mouth. It was so much and thick. His cheeks swelled. He had to swallow, the cum ran out of his mouth, but he continued to suck his cock. When the cum finally stopped flowing, his belly was so full of cum and his balls were empty. He felt amazing. His muscles were tingling, his whole body was buzzing, his cock was still rock hard. "Holy fucking shit!" Robbie cried. "That was insane. I can't believe my eyes." Sam said. Brett flexed his massive arms and smiled. "Steve is gonna be in so much trouble." Sam and Robbie smiled. They looked at Brett's huge muscles and his monstrous cock. His whole body was a masterpiece, a piece of art, a living god. Robbie crawled to him, licking his fat softening cock, the taste of his cum driving him mad. He took the cock into his mouth and sucked on the head, he swallowed some and moaned. Sam followed suit, then together they licked the big cock clean. They both sucked on it, licking his balls, his cockhead, his shaft. The cum was everywhere. Brett moaned and flexed his muscles, enjoying the worship. The boys could go on all day worshipping his dick, but there was a party to prepare, so Brett stopped the scene. Robbie and Sam stood up. Brett had his cock in his hand and pointed it straight at the wall. He gave his cock a gentle squeeze, making a thick and long line of cum hit the wall, it splattered across the concrete, it was unbelievable. He scanned through the barn, it was a complete mess. Everything was covered with a layer of cum. It was unreal. "Fuck man, it's everywhere. It's fucking everywhere." Sam said. Brett smiled and walked out of the barn, his cock swinging and dripping, he was still horny. He walked into the house, the boys followed. They couldn't believe what just had happened. The growth, the strength, the size. It was incredible. Brett had become a living god, a beast, a machine, a fucking titan. That evening Brett, Sam and Robbie were getting ready for Steve's arrival. They were preparing the garden for the party, they had to make sure everything was right. They wanted to make this the best night ever. Brett was in his room, preparing himself, he had just showered and was drying himself off. He couldn't believe this body had just lifted a truck and this cock ruined a rope. He had grown immensely and could not believe his growth, and his transformation, it was so hot, so incredible. It was the ultimate fantasy. A super hero's growth, a monster's dick, and an unlimited amount of cum. This was the ultimate dream. He had a hard time keeping his hands away from his growing cock, and his mind was filled with the thoughts of what was to come. He could not wait to see Steve's face, he could not wait to show him his muscles, and his power. To show who's boss. And to destroy him. He flexed his muscles, watching them pop out, it was so hot. He was so happy and satisfied with his new body. He knew he was the ultimate man, the biggest, the strongest, the sexiest. He was the ultimate. The other boys would be no match for him, they would submit to him. And he could not wait to see Steve's reaction. He was on a quest to wreck Steve's relationship with his girl and turn her to him, and he could not wait for the result. He finished drying off and put on a pair of briefs, his dick bulging through them. He had chosen his underwear carefully, it was black and tight. He flexed his muscles again, his biceps were popping out, his pecs and lats were flexed, his abs and traps were defined, his legs were hard and strong, his ass was firm and tight, his thighs were solid. He could not stop himself, he just had to touch his muscles, his body, he was so proud of himself, and so satisfied. He looked like a god, and he felt like a god. But he had to get ready, so he finished his preparations. He put on a white t shirt with his varsity jacket over it, and some jeans. The jacket was tight, and his biceps were pressing against the leather sleeves. The jeans were tight as well, and his bulge was visible. The shirt hung a bit over it, and his cock was not very noticeable, but he looked hot. His cleavage was prominent because of the v-cut. The jacket was too tight to zip up, so he had left it open, his arms filling up the sleeves and his biceps pressing against the material. He took a look at himself, and he looked good. His hair was messy, but that was good, he was a jock after all. He was ready. He made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Robbie and Sam were already waiting, and they had prepared everything. They had laid out food and drinks. Sam was also wearing his Stanford varsity jacket and jeans, Robbie was wearing a polo shirt and shorts. The garden was decorated in Ibiza style, there were tables set up, with drinks and snacks, and there was a keg and some beer bottles. They had prepared a bonfire, and some torches. The fire was lit, and the torches were burning, they had been placed around the garden. They had brought out some deck chairs, and a small table, and a cooler with ice and beer. "You look good." Robbie said. "I can't wait to see his face." Sam added. "He won't know what hit him." Brett replied. "I bet you're looking forward to seeing his girlfriend too." Robbie asked. "Of course." Brett replied, flexing his muscles. They were all ready. "So, how do you want to do this?" Robbie asked. "Well, I guess we can start with some beers, and we'll see how it goes from there." Brett answered. "Sounds good." Sam replied. The three of them grabbed a beer and headed outside. The air was cold and crisp, and the sky was clear. The stars were shining bright. The fire was crackling and the torches were flickering. It was a perfect night. "Brettie boy! So nice of you to throw this party for me." Steve called out as he stepped through the back gate and into the garden. He walked towards the boys with a beautiful young woman by his side. She was tall, slim, with dark skin and a round ass. She had a large pair of breasts and an even bigger pair of lips. Her hair was brown, long and flowing, and she was dressed in a tight black dress that accentuated her curves. She had a pair of black high heels on her feet, and her nails were painted red. "Yo Steve", Brett said with an astonishing handsome face and a cocky grin as he stood up next to the flickering fire. He looked absolutely stunning. Tall, broad and just plain beautiful. Steve seemed to be taken by surprise, just like his girlfriend, as they where taking in the sight before them. "Bre.." his voice skipped. "Uhum.. Brettie boy" he said with far less confidence than he had just a few moments ago. Robbie saw what impact Brett had on his oldest brother, and he couldn't help but smirk. He looked at Sam, who had an equally smug smile. "Hell yeah, this is gonna be one hell of a party!" Robbie thougt.

This is my first ever paid commission, written from a client's prompt and guidance of specifics he hoped to see - but definitely in my writing style and voice. After reading it, he suggested I post it here, where I've been a long-time lurker. Also the longest single story I've ever written. Hope y'all like. If so, I'll look at bringing over some of my other stories, too. Looking forward to hearing what you think. Comment or check my profile on how to contact. Thanks! ----------------- WARNING: This story has a lot of references to tobacco and smoking. If that's not your thing, I totally understand. All of the images are also AI generated. ----------------- SMOKEY'S GYM It was a great party. Josh and his buddies hung out, drank beers and some partygoers enjoyed cigars. It was late into the night and things were winding down when one of Josh’s friends called him out. “Why do you look so bummed, dude?”, Hunter asked. “Hell, I don’t know,” Josh said, “I’ve just been out of it lately. Stuck in my head.” “There’s no reason, man,” Hunter said, “You’re a catch, bro. Good job, cute as hell, great personality.” “I hear you, but I don’t feel it, man,” Josh said, “I’m pissed at myself for comparing myself to you guys, but it’s hard. Some days I just don’t want to be ‘cute’. I’m tired of being a wing man.” “Look, man, you are as important to me as everyone in this group is,” Hunter said, “But if it’s important to you, I may have an idea.” He took a long pull on his cigar, exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling. Josh winced. Hunter knew Josh wasn’t into cigars like some of the others. Josh only tolerated them for the good of the group. “Are you willing to compromise a few things?”, Hunter asked, “How far are you willing to go for what you want?” Josh thought before answering, but the alcohol had gotten to him a bit. “I need something to change,” he said, “I’d do just about anything to have what you guys have.” Hunter pulled out his phone and texted someone. “Done, bud,” he said, “Hope you’re ready for an exciting ride.” Josh heard him, but in his inebriated state he didn’t really listen to what was said. He just smiled and said, “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Hunter smiled, opening his arms wide to signal Josh to come in for a big bear hug. Josh leaned into the hug and his friend’s big arms enveloped him. “It’s all good, bro,” Hunter said, “I got you.” The next morning, Josh shook off his hangover. It was a fun, if not retrospective evening. It’s not that he was unhappy with his life, but that he just wanted “more”. What that “more” was, he wasn’t exactly sure. But as he looked at his group of friends, he saw how confident they were. They worked hard, played hard, and fucked hard. That just wasn’t him. He wished it could be, though. As he worked through his morning routine, he knew one thing – it was time for Josh to head to the gym. It had been a few weeks, but he had a little more pep in his step today. He was actually excited to work off some of his stress. Hunter was right. Josh wasn’t a bad looking guy, at about 5’9”, and depending on his diet at the time, weighing between 185 to 200 pounds. He is what most men would say is cute or handsome, but not built or “hot”. Like most gay men in the world, he wished he could be more than he currently is. He hated that about himself, however. He had a great education, good job, decent life, but there’s always that x-factor he couldn’t define as missing. Whatever it was, Josh pushed it aside today as he got ready to head out for the gym. Hopefully he would be able to escape for a bit as he listened to some Kylie Minogue, Arianna Grande, or – don’t tell his friends – Spice Girls on his playlist. After parking, Josh started his lazy walk toward the gym’s entrance. However, he noticed something he’d never seen before. There was an extremely fit-looking man smoking a cigarette near the entrance. Josh couldn’t help but stare. This guy just stood there, proud as he could be, hauling on his smoke. As other patrons walked by, he knew they were talking about him – often scrunching their noses in disgust – but this dude just did not care. As he got closer to the man, Josh’s internal struggle became more pronounced. He wondered how someone so in-shape looking could be smoking out in public, where he knew he’d get stared at and chastised, but not look like he gave a single fuck. The guy was basically daring someone to say something to him about it. Josh could never. As Josh neared the entrance, the man looked over to him and nodded, as if to acknowledge his existence, while in mid-haul on his cigarette. After his exhale, the bro motioned toward Josh to get his attention. “You want to talk to me?”, Josh questioned. “Yeah, man, are you Josh?”, the dude asked. Josh said he was indeed the man he was looking for. “Perfect!”, the man said, “I’m Dylan. I’m waiting for you.” Not saying anything, Josh’s first thought was, “Of course this guy who looks like an older version of a frat-bro who never really left his undergrad days and probably works in Finance is named Dylan.” But he never said that out loud. The only thing Josh could blurt out was, “You’re waiting for me?” “Yeah, bud,” Dylan said, “I was told you’d be here. I am sort of a brand ambassador for an elite gym. We cater to dudes with special interests. I got a 911 text from a friend who said you might be interested.” Josh reflected for a moment, then blurted, “Oh shit! You’re the one Hunter texted last night.” “Guilty,” Dylan smiled as he took the last drag off his cigarette before depositing the extinguished butt in the nearby trashcan. “He said you could use a change,” Dylan continued, “And I can make sure that happens. Interested?” Josh took a moment to think, then threw caution to the wind saying, “Fuck it! I’m in! If Hunter trusts you, I trust you.” Dylan smiled as he pulled out his cell phone. “Give me your number,” he said, “I’ll send you a pin on where to meet me tonight.” “Tonight?”, Josh asked with concern in his voice. “Yeah, man, tonight!”, Dylan said, “Gotta pull the band-aid off. Come ready to workout. I promise we’ll get you on the right path.” With that, Josh pulled out his phone and texted his number to Dylan. Josh’s phone pinged with a location he wasn’t familiar with and a note to meet him at 9:00pm. “See you soon, stud,” Dylan said as he lit up another cigarette and walked away, leaving Josh to ponder what he agreed to. After doing some cardio, Josh texted Hunter, inquiring about Dylan. Hunter wouldn’t give more information, just encouraged Josh to have fun and told him it will be a life-changing experience – whatever that meant. Josh was distracted all day long, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. Once the time came to leave, he thought about bailing. However, a text came in from Dylan reminding him that he would see him soon. “Dammit,” Josh thought, “Why couldn’t he just ghost me like everyone else?” As Josh made his way to the location, it seemed that the GPS took him to a “less-reputable” area of the city. He would never come down here by himself on a normal day. However, after finding parking on the street, and taking a deep breath, he walked into the alley where Dylan told him to go. As he got closer, a bright neon sign illuminated the alley. It said “Smokey’s Gym”. As he stared at the inviting sign, he noticed several buff men outside – all smoking some kind of tobacco product. “This is so crazy,” he thought to himself, but none of them seemed concerned about anything or anyone else. A few seconds later, Dylan’s form came out of the shadows as he was hauling on a cigarette. “Hey, bro!”, he said cheerfully, “Glad you made it! Hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.” “Not at all,” Josh said, “I’m not familiar with this side of town, but your directions were perfect.” “Great,” Dylan responded, while offering out his hand for a typical slap and shoulder hug greeting. Josh was still confused, but followed this ritual on auto-pilot. “Let’s get inside,” Dylan said, “We’ve got to get you signed up and oriented. I know you’re going to love this place.” Josh followed Dylan like a lost puppy through the door, as Dylan stopped to make quick pleasantries with the other men outside enjoying their tobacco treats. Each man acknowledged Josh in some way, whether saying welcome or providing an acknowledging head nod as they exhaled smoked from their chosen method of obtaining it. Upon entering the door, Josh was taken aback. He was hit in the face with tobacco smoke that made him cough slightly, which Dylan noticed. “Sorry, bud,” Dylan said, “I may have forgotten to tell you that members here can smoke inside. I promise you’ll get used to it.” Josh squeamishly smiled at his new friend – maybe this was a bad idea. Josh remembered that most, if not all, of his friends smoke. He’d been at many a house party where his friends smoked their thick cigars, which he definitely found pleasant. However, if it became too much, he could always retreat outside. That wouldn’t be the case in this gym – there was no escaping it. And it was clear that he would be smelling like an ashtray after his workout. Josh didn’t have much time to think as a gruff and buff older man got his attention. “So, Dylan,” he said in a gravely, yet masculine voice, “What sort of project have you brought me today?” “Josh, this asshole is ‘the’ Smokey of Smokey’s Gym”, Dylan said in a jovial tone, “He’s actually a nice guy who really cares about the clients, despite his attitude deformed appearance.” “Fuck off, Dylan,” Smokey said as he took a drag off his cigar, exhaling the smoke as he said, “I’m not deformed, just substantially bigger than you. And don’t go telling the fresh meat that I’m nice. You’ll ruin my image. Now, kick rocks. The kid and I have some things to discuss.” “Aye, aye, Captain,” Josh said as he faked a salute with his lit cigarette in his mouth, “I’ll be over in my area working on getting a big as you, old timer. Will see you later, Josh.” With that, Dylan turned and headed to the gym floor. “So, Josh,” Smokey said, getting Josh’s attention back toward him, “How can I help you?” Josh said, “A friend of mine apparently knew Dylan and he hooked me up for the opportunity to see your gym.” “Ahh,” Smokey replied, “Do you know exactly what you’re getting into?” “I assumed I was here to try out the gym and decide if I’m joining,” Dylan replied. Smokey gave a slight look of concern as he took another pull on his cigar, exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling. “Either your buddy or Dylan were definitely not clear with you on what this place is,” he said, “but there’s one thing I can promise you – you’re no longer the person you walked in as.” Josh gave a quizzical look toward Smokey as he reflected on the ominous statement. “Alright, kid,” Smokey said, knocking Josh out of his stupor, “It’s time to go over the membership rules.” Smokey then whipped out a clipboard with several pages of paperwork and a pen. “First off,” Smokey said, “Members are encouraged to smoke here. That might be a bit different than what you’re used to at other gyms, but it’s actually important. Smokey’s is a gym for smokers. Most of the men in here can’t go long without their nicotine fix, so I created this place so they can smoke while they’re working out.” “Hold up,” Josh said, “The gym is only for smokers?” “Well, I should have been more specific,” Smokey replied, “Guys who use nicotine products. We also have a section for the guys who dip or chew, too. However, we don’t allow vaping in here because it’s lame. You can do whatever you like to do when you’re not in the gym – but none of that shit in here.” Josh could feel himself becoming more and more uncomfortable. “I just don’t understand,” he said, “I…I…I don’t smoke. I’ve never been a smoker before.” “Well, shit,” Smokey said, “I hate to tell you this, but you are now. Or at least you’re going to start having cravings by the time you leave. There’s no way to be in this place and not get addicted. That’s why my street team is supposed to only bring in smokers or people who are likely to become smokers. Wait…do most of your friends smoke?” Josh replied with a simple, “Yeah.” “OK, this is making a lot more sense,” Smokey said, “I bet one of your friends is either a client or knows some clients. They’re either trying to give you a make-over or thought you were a smoker.” Josh couldn’t wrap his mind around the situation and what he was being told. “Look, it’s clear you’ve got some thinking to do,” Smokey said, “But one thing is very true, the life you knew before coming here is going to be different. It’s not over or anything – far from it. There’s going to be a lot for you to learn, but I promise you’ll come to love it. Look at all of the men here – they’re more than satisfied.” Josh turned around and looked onto the gym floor. All he could see were men smoking something, whether a cigar, cigarette, or pipe. They didn’t look to be struggling. There was a confidence in their movements, some might even say a strut. And, fuck, they looked good. “Well, if my fate is already sealed, I may as well sign the dotted line,” Josh said, with trepidation in his voice. “That’s my boy,” Smokey said as he handed the pen to Josh. “You’ve made the right decision,” he continued, “I have a feeling you’re gonna be a cigar man eventually. Trust me, I can pick them.” Smokey smiled around the fat cigar shoved in his jaw. Josh felt like Smokey’s eyes were looking him up and down in a predatory fashion. All he could think is, “What have I gotten myself into?”, as he signed his name on the dotted line. “Alright, now that you’re officially a junior member of Smokey’s Gym,” Smokey said, “It’s time for your orientation period. Over the next several days you will have the chance to experience the options available in the gym.” Josh interrupted, saying, “Well, I’m looking to bulk up. So, I assume I’m going to want to use more of the free weights and powerlifting equipment.” Shaking his head, Smokey asserted, “That’s not what I’m talking about, boy. You’re going to have to decide what kind of man you want to be. Trust me, it will make more sense over the next several days. For now, I’ll take you over to Dylan and his crew since you already know him. Grab your shit and let’s go.” As they walked, Josh realized that the gym was actually huge inside. It kind of reminded him of the inside of that British police box spaceship from the show he used to watch. The outside just didn’t look like there would be so much space. The longer they walked, the less he coughed. He assumed he was just getting used to filtering the smoke through his lungs. He wasn’t particularly excited about that, but it was what it was. Approaching a corner of the space, there were several buff men checking themselves out in the mirror. All of them smoking cigarettes as they lifted free weights with their sculpted arms, chests, and visible abs. That’s when Dylan’s familiar face caught him. “Hey, buddy!”, he said, “Glad you’re here to join us.” “He hasn’t made up his mind yet, Dylan,” Smokey said while blowing a cloud of cigar smoke into the area – causing several of the men to shoot him dirty looks, “He didn’t even smoke before he came in here today, so he’s got some exploring to do.” “No shit?”, said Dylan, “I had no idea! I guess I just assumed. Well, you’re here now so let’s make the best of it!” Dylan put his arm around Josh and pulled him in to meet some of the other cigarette bros as Smokey stared momentarily before turning away to head back to his rightful place at the desk. “All of the guys in here look like runway or fitness models,” Josh said. “You’re pretty much correct. Most of the guys in ‘The Pack’ are,” Dylan said while making air quotes and chuckling slightly at the pun, “I guess most of us started smoking to keep from overeating and wanted to maintain our muscularity.” “I guess I’m just still stunned by all of this,” Josh said, “I still don’t quite understand everything that’s going on. Smokey just told me I’m going to have to choose eventually. I don’t really know what all of that means yet.” “It’s pretty much what he said,” Dylan said, “You have some time to decide if you’re a cigarette, cigar, pipe or dip man, for the most part. We all have different goals in our workouts and how we want the world to see us, so you have to ultimately discover your tribe. They’ll help you discover your full potential.” As Josh allowed Dylan’s world percolate for a moment, he kind of liked the sentiment. However, he was still uncomfortable with the whole smoking and tobacco use part. Oddly, though, the longer he was here and talking with Dylan, his anxiety seemed to settle. Dylan turned to Josh, saying, “Bro, let me introduce you to Marco. He’s the lead trainer of The Pack.” As Josh made eye contact with Marco, he could barely contain himself. He was an Adonis, a body carved directly out of marble, with a hot shoulder tat. His dark and brooding appearance made Josh’s loins twitch. “Hey, man,” Marco said, “So you’re interested in joining The Pack?” Dylan interrupted, “He is definitely going to join us. He just has to do the full orientation as a formality, isn’t that right, bro?” Josh wasn’t sure how to respond, but he timidly said, “I definitely want to see what I would have to look forward to.” “Well, no time like the present, dude,” Marco said while holding out a pack of non-descript cigarettes. “I will warn you that I’m going to kick your ass tonight. A lot of people tap out of my full-on workouts – but if you stick with me, you will get the best results. Even if you’re not sure, I promise I will give you a lot to think about afterward.” “Well, I suppose we should get started then,” Josh said, “What do I need to do?” “Just take a cigarette, bro,” Marco said. Josh took one from the pack and put it to his lips. Dylan pulled out a lighter and sparked a flame. “Glad I could be your first,” he chuckled, as Josh sucked in his first lungful of smoke. “This is awesome,” Josh said as he exhaled. “You’re just having a nicotine high, bud,” Marco said, “it’s going to be like that for a bit as your body gets used to it, but it’s going to make your transform much faster.” Transform? That was a new terminology to Josh. He thought he’d just be working out. In high nicotine high, Josh became very compliant to Marco. Marco kept the cigarettes flowing as he and Josh worked upper body for the rest of the evening. Shoulders, chest, biceps, triceps, abs – which he explained would be most of the workouts. The Pack focused on upper body. Not that they had chicken legs, but their bodies were meant for looks, lean to showy muscularity, and aesthetic athleticism, not power and strength. They were to be admired. Other men wished they were them. As the workout continued, Dylan stopped by to check on the progress. “Holy shit, bro,” he exclaimed, “Have you seen yourself?” Taking a draw on his cigarette, Josh stopped for a moment to look at himself in the closest mirror. He was absolutely ripped with broad shoulders and a tapered waist. Veined, shredded muscles as far as he could see. Definitely disproportionate on the bottom for now, but after only one workout, he was more than impressed with himself. “Damn,” Josh said, “I’m fine as hell!” He couldn’t stop looking at himself in the mirror. He put his cigarette in his mouth, allowing it to dangle from his lips. He gave his best model pose and flexed his arms. Both Marco and Dylan laughed until Dylan broke the silence as he quipped, “Someone’s feeling himself!” Josh turned to Dylan, then rushed toward him, planting a huge kiss on his lips. “This is fucking awesome, bro,” he said, “I can’t thank you enough. I can’t believe how I look and feel.” Marco interrupted, “And this is just after one workout. Just think what we can do over time. And – I think I deserve a little thanks, too.” Josh went over to Marco, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips, as Marco placed his hands on his tight, firm, ass. Smokey appeared out of nowhere to say, “No fucking on the gym floor, boys! Take it to the steam room or go get your rocks off somewhere else.” “He’s just jealous we got you first,” Marco said as he grabbed his new creatin by the wrist and led him toward the locker room. The next morning, Josh awoke with a splitting headache. He reflected on the night before and how great he felt. He immediately ran to the bathroom to see that the gains he’d made from the night before were gone. He looked as mediocre as he did prior to stepping inside Smokey’s Gym. He pulled out the contract and noticed in the orientation section that initial changes are only temporary until the client commits to his choice. He was sad about that, but he looked forward to his workout this evening. Now, what to do about his headache. He knew it wasn’t just being hungry or dehydrated. This was nicotine withdrawal. He also noticed a smell. It led him to his workout bag and the clothes he’d thrown haphazardly into the corner of his room. They smelled like cigarette smoke…sweet, sweet cigarette smoke. Fuck, he wished he had one right now. That’s when he saw them. Someone – probably Dylan or Marco – stuffed a fresh pack in his bag. As he pulled them out, there was a note saying “We know you’ll be needing these about now! Smoke up! -The Pack.” Those guys are awesome, he thought. After digging through his kitchen junk drawer, Josh found a lighter typically used for candles, grabbed the pack and headed out to his apartment’s patio. He pulled out and lit a cigarette, taking the smoke into his lungs. It satiated his need, at least for now. Josh opened his phone to see a missed text message from Hunter. It read simply, “So?” Josh took a long, exasperated drag, responding with, “Fine. FU Dick! TTYL”. A few minutes later, a single emoji of a purple horny devil appeared. Josh couldn’t help but chuckle a bit to himself as he headed back inside his apartment to get ready to leave. Going to work for the day was a challenge. Josh could only think about later tonight and what his next choice and transformation would be like. Throughout the day, he would spontaneously get hard thinking about it, especially after the experience he had with Marco. He just hoped no one would walk by his cubicle. Several times, he excused himself saying he needed to “clear his head”, but he was finding the perfect place to hide and smoke. Even though the smokers from his office all went to the same place, he couldn’t yet come out as a smoker. It just wasn’t something he was ready to do. Josh headed home for the evening, contemplating smoking a cigarette in his car, but he held out until he got home. After a quick pee, he headed to the patio where he sparked up in relief. Without the nicotine flowing in his system, his nerves would probably have been shot by now. His mind still fought against his growing addiction, but he couldn’t resist knowing what further experiences he would have. Josh walked back into Smokey’s Gym at his scheduled 9:00pm appointment time. He took a deep breath, inhaling the atmosphere that reminded him of last night’s escapade. Smokey gruffly greeted him, smelling the smoke on Josh’s clothes. “Welcome back, kid. Looks like you’re coming around,” he said with a bit of a smirk around the cigar nub shoved in his jaw, “Glad you had some fun with the boys last night, but tonight’s the night you meet the real men. I hope you’re ready.” Smokey came out from behind the desk and proudly walked Josh toward the next area. As they walked, Smokey described “The Cigar Lounge”, as he called it. Josh was excited to hear there were many more free weights and barbells than in The Pack’s area. He really did look forward to the chance to lift more. As they turned the corner, Josh’s eyes went wide. This was a familiar looking group of men. It seemed as though he was back at one of the many parties with his buddies, like Hunter. The men here were much beefier than the guys from The Pack. They had large muscles and exuded power and confidence. Many had beards, with tattoos covering their bodies. These guys were sexy to him. He was looking forward to this. “Like what you see, kid?”, Smokey joked as he jabbed Josh on the shoulder, “Cuz it surely looks like little Joshie does.” Josh realized he had a chub and was embarrassed that Smokey pointed it out. As he grew a bit red in the face, Smokey said, “Nothing to be shy about. Cigar men like us don’t care. It’s normal human nature.” A hirsute man approached the couple saying, “Jeez, Smokey. Are you trying to recruit him or make him run screaming back over to the butt heads?” Smokey let out a smile as he and the man shared a quick bro hug. “Kid, this is Omar. Omar, this is Josh,” Smokey said. “Why do you insist on calling every new client ‘kid’, Smokey?”, Omar chuckled. “Because you are all kids to me,” retorted Smokey, “At least until a client makes his choice and knows where he belongs.” “You’ll get nothing but respect over here in the Lounge, Josh,” Omar said, “So what do you say you and I have a little talk about your goals while the old pervert heads back to his hole?” Smokey flips Omar a bird as he turns, walking away in a huff. All the bodybuilders who saw the exchange chuckled around their cigars. “Don’t worry about him, Josh,” Omar said, “He means well. I think he sees something in you and hopes you belong with us. How about we get down to some business?” “Sounds good to me!”, Josh exclaims excitedly, “This area looks like it has everything I’m looking for. I really want to do some bodybuilding to see what I would look like.” “That’s good to hear,” Omar said, “But we’re not just about looking like a bodybuilder. To be a member of The Lounge, you need the right attitude. I won’t say that we’re better than everyone else, but I do think we’re a lot more balanced than the others. We’re not just big. We take up space. We’re confident. People can’t ignore us, even if they try.” Listening intently, Josh couldn’t agree more. The further Omar went into his pitch, Josh felt like he was at home. Omar extended his hand, “I promise to give you my best if you’ll give me your best.” Josh immediately shook Omar’s gigantic hand, saying, “I promise!” Omar guided Josh over to the walk-in humidor installed in their area of the gym. “I think we’ll go with the Asylum 13 Ogre,” Omar said, while passing the girthy, long cigar under his nose, “You’re going to love this. It may look a bit intimidating, but I’m sure you can handle it.” After a flirty wink, he continued, “I’ll walk you through how to prep it this time, but I’ll expect you’ll do your own from here on out.” Through both his fascination and fear, all Josh could muster in response was, “Yes, Sir!” “Nice, a boy with respect,” Omar coyly responded, “I think we’re going to be fast friends.” With that, Omar clipped and toasted the cigar perfectly, lightly pulling to ensure an even burn. With that, he handed it over to Josh. “Start slowly,” Omar said, “Small puffs until you get used to it. Don’t inhale yet. I don’t need to be cleaning up any vomit at the start of our workout.” As Josh chuffed on his stogie, he swore he could already feel its power coursing through him. He felt taller, broader, more confident in himself. He wondered if it was because of the sheer amount of nicotine flooding his system. “How are you feeling there, Josh?”, Omar asked. “I’m great,” Josh responded, “This is awesome. I never knew what I was missing when my friends were smoking these around me. I always liked how they smelled, but actually smoking one is amazing.” “Yeah,” Omar agreed, “They’re pretty powerful. Not every man is meant to be a cigar man. It takes a special man to not only smoke them, but to handle the looks you’re going to get while smoking them. Men wish they were us, to have our confidence and the ability to handle that big stick for possibly hours.” Josh continued listening to Omar, hearing every word as it sank into his very soul. Josh could relate to this experience much more than he could with smoking cigarettes. Last night seemed like a distant memory to him, a passing fad. However, he could live in this moment forever. “It’s time to get started, little one,” Omar said. Josh followed him immediately, like a big brother he’d never had. They began the evening with squats, helping Josh develop a strong foundation. By the end of the night, Omar put Josh through a full body workout – chest, delts, and core work. Josh hadn’t even cared to look at himself all night. Where The Pack was constantly checking themselves out in the mirror, The Lounge men prioritized the workout. They didn’t need to look in the mirror to constantly check their progress. They worked hard and Josh had a feeling from the looks he was getting as he walked the floor that they played even harder. When Josh finally caught a glimpse of himself, he couldn’t believe it. He was huge. His boyish looks were fully obscured by a super-masculine profile. His newly angular jaw was framed perfectly by a short beard. Josh hadn’t even realized he’d parked the cigar in his jaw, as if it was an extension of him now. He had substantial pecs – at least twice as large as he gained the previous night – and his shoulders were massive. His gigantic arms were covered with of sexy tattoos. His thighs, quads, and calves matched his upper body, allowing him to feel balanced rather than top heavy. He absolutely loved how he looked. He confidently smiled at himself now, something he had never done previously. Taking a satisfying pull on his cigar, Josh exhaled exclaiming, “Holy fuck, I’m hot!” “Yeah, you are,” said Omar, “I didn’t want to tell you, but it was very hard not to.” “Thank you, Sir!”, Josh said, “This is beyond my wildest dreams. I don’t know that I ever want to go back.” “Unfortunately, you will have to,” Omar said, “It doesn’t mean you can’t come back, of course, but you know that you still have other tribes to test out.” Josh was almost sad thinking about the truth. “There’s no reason we can’t give your new body a ride, just to see how it performs,” Omar said with a coy smile, “You’ve been calling me ‘Sir’ all night and it’s taken all of my energy not to jump your bones. Are you up for it?” “Hell yeah, Sir!”, Josh said taking a long draw on his cigar and exhaling it with confidence. “Steam room, boy, now!”, Omar said as Josh ran to make sure to be there to hold the door for his superior. The next morning, Josh woke up with less of a headache than the day prior. He immediately reached to his right, where he felt for his pack of smokes and a lighter. As he pulled a cigarette out of the pack and put it to his lips, he began raising the lighter to spark it. He suddenly realized what he was doing and stopped in his tracks. “What the hell am I doing?”, he blurted. He was upset that this action seemed so normal to him, as if on autopilot. After running to the bathroom and splashing some water on his face, Josh stared at himself in the mirror. He really missed the gains from last night. He’d never felt so powerful and in-charge. Now he was back to square one again – the same old Josh. As he headed toward the closet to pull out his work clothes for the day, he passed his clothes from the night before. It smelled so good to him. He loved the much more substantial smell that the cigar smoke left. He wanted to be bathed in it. It was then he knew that he did not want to be a cigarette smoker any longer. That ship had sailed, except in emergencies. Unfortunately, Josh was craving a smoke. His addiction was growing at a rapid pace. He hated the thought, but knew he had no choice but to feed the monster now. Eyeing his bag, he noticed a metallic glint, finding an aluminum tube. His heart began fluttering because he knew what it was. As he opened the cylinder, it was another Asylum 13 Ogre, with a note wrapped around it. “It’s clear where you belong. - Omar”, the note read. Josh blushed, but also exhaled realizing he wouldn’t need to smoke a dreaded cigarette. Josh knew he didn’t have time to enjoy the cigar at the pace it should be smoked, so he made a decision. After getting ready for work, he snipped the end with a scissor, grabbed his lighter, and took the cigar with him to his car. After rolling down his window, he lit the end as Omar taught him and was immediately taken back. “Oh yeah,” he thought, “This feels right.” Josh could see and feel the people staring at him with his thick cigar in his mouth or hanging out the window. But Josh didn’t care. All he focused on was how he felt and enjoying the experience – the experience of being a cigar man. By the time he reached work, he had only made it through about half of the cigar, so he extinguished it and put the rest back in its tube to enjoy later. Throughout the day, his co-workers commented that he was carrying himself differently. “Have you lost weight?” “Are you dressing differently?” “Are you using a new cologne?” “There’s just something different about you, I can’t put my finger on it.” Josh just smiled to himself thinking, “If they only knew!” Around mid-day, a new message from Hunter came through. “U mad?”, it said. Josh responded with, “Not today. Ask me tomorrow,” with a winky emoji. Hunter replied with a both flexed bicep and lit cigarette emojis, followed with “Any gainz, bro?” Josh thought to himself, “That bitch! He knew the whole time!” Pissed, he responded with “CUNT. We will talk later”, flipping his phone over. After enjoying most of the rest of his cigar on the way home that day, Josh was not as excited to go to the gym tonight. He certainly wanted to go, but realizing that he wasn’t going to have the same experience as last night drug him down. “It’s OK, only a few more days,” he said to himself. Josh saved a nub to smoke on his way to the gym that evening. As he walked in, Smokey gave a wide smile around his own cigar. “Well, well, well,” he said, “I smell that sweet smoke on you, kid. I can see by that walk that I was right again. It looks good on you.” Josh smiled coyly in Smokey’s direction. “Now, now, Smokey,” a voice said from behind Josh, “That’s not fair. You know the boy needs the opportunity to experience all of his options before making a decision.” Upon turning around, Josh was met with a stout, yet imposing figure. He was beefy like a cigar man, but possessed a thoughtful and intriguing face that drew Josh in. “Oh great, Santa Claus has come to town,” Smokey said as he rolled his eyes. The silver daddy rolled his eyes and retorted, “Jealously never looked good on you.” Josh, feeling the tension between the two men, immediately jumped up extending his hand for a shake, “Hi,” he began, “I’m Josh. Looking forward to my workout tonight.” The man pulled Josh in for a full-on hug, placing his head against his supple chest. “Sorry there, little man,” he said, “I don’t do handshakes. I believe in big old bear hugs.” Upon releasing him, Josh almost felt drunk. This man’s musky pheromones, combined with aromatics of tobacco and possibly sweet, woodsy, and perhaps even fruity smells, was overwhelming. Josh found this very appealing. Observing this exchange, Smokey became more and more visibly agitated. “Get out of here, Wesley,” Smokey asserted, “Go work the kid out so he can come back home after.” Wesley turned and glared at Smokey. Motioning to Josh to pick up his bag and follow him. Josh would normally never respond like that, but he was drawn to this man for some reason. As they walked, Josh broke the silence, “What was up with all of that?” “Oh, nothing,” Wesley said, “Let’s just say that Smokey and I have history. It was a long time ago, but some people can’t move on.” Josh chuckled to himself. “Now that we’re past all of that gay drama,” Wesley said, “Let me introduce you to what we pipe men call ‘The Rack’.” Josh’s eyes grew wide as he took in the environment. There we no young men in this part of the gym, however there was something about these men that he found very attractive. They were perhaps the most varied body types – some ripped, some portly – but this area felt the most comfortable of all. The men all seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. Taking time between their sets, hugging, and taking puffs on their large-bowl pipes. Each pipe was as unique as its user. “I assume you didn’t come equipped with your own,” Wesley said, handing Josh a pipe. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he said. “No need to apologize, son,” Wesley said, rubbing Josh’s head while tussling his hair, “I’m sure you’ll graduate to something more ornate in the future, but for now this is what is called a bent pipe. It’s shaped to make lighting fairly easy as you hold the stem in your teeth. Go ahead, put it in your mouth.” Something about this man and the men around him made Josh feel very “at home”. They were gentle, welcoming, and taking the time to teach him things. As Josh placed the pipe in his mouth, it felt as though it was meant to be there. There was weight to it, but he quickly managed to balance it. “You are a quick study, my boy,” Wesley said, “It’s time for us to decide what kind of tobacco you like and get to your workout.” With that, Wesley placed his heavy arm around Josh’s shoulder and led him to the mahogany cabinet where the men of The Rack stored their loose tobacco. As they stopped for Wesley to open the cabinet, Josh almost missed the feeling of safety and comfort the bear’s arm provided - covering him like a warm blanket. As the doors opened, a variety of tins and pouches came into view. Wesley expertly opened several, wafting their scents to find the right combination until he settled on one. “You see, boy,” he said, “A pipe man has so many options. The pipe is your vessel, but the combinations are endless.” Wesley opened the tin he chose, placing it under Josh’s nose. Josh smelled a rich tobacco with sweet vanilla and cherry notes. His eyes opened wide. “That smells great,” he said. “Well, boy,” Wesley responded, “Let’s get your pipe packed and go to town.” After teaching Josh how to sprinkle the loose tobacco in the bowl of his new pipe, then compress it for the perfect burn, Wesley gave him suggestions for lighting. After taking his first lungful of the creamy, sweet smoke, Josh was in heaven. He was surprised at how easily he took to what he always thought was a complicated process. With that, the men went to work. This was honestly the least physically demanding workout so far, but Josh just enjoyed being the presence of the other men. It was a very communal experience. Each of them shared some stories, while talking about the various tobacco blends they enjoyed. The combination of smoke was fragrant, with everyone’s individual contribution making a difference to the whole. As time moved on, Josh found himself gazing longingly into Wesley’s experienced eyes. Wesley wished he could be this man. So confident, comfortable in his skin, powerful yet caring. He quickly developed an admiration for who he was and what he stood for. Wesley eventually approached Josh from behind, wrapping his arms around him. Josh barely flinched as he felt as though he was being wrapped in a comfy robe. Wesley removed his pipe and nibbled lightly on Josh’s earlobe. Josh turned toward him, now fully transformed into a slightly shorter, yet stockier version of himself. Upon seeing himself in a mirror, he imagined he was a younger version of Wesley – when he was in his prime. Thick arms, pecs, and mid-section with a dusting of hair. Less defined than the night before, but perfect for cuddling. He felt a maturity beyond his years as he pulled on his pipe. “So, what do you think, Papa Bear?”, Josh asked with a come-hither look on his face. “I could just eat you with a spoon, young man,” Wesley replied as he took a toke from his pipe and leaned in to exhale directly into Josh’s mouth. As Josh exhaled, he said, “I liked that very much!” “Swapping smoke is a ritual we pipe men share,” Wesley said, “It’s very erotic, don’t you think?” Josh immediately took a pull on his pipe and locked lips with a not-so-surprised Wesley. Wesley smiled as he exhaled the young bear’s smoke. “A little too sweet for me,” Wesley said, “But I think it’s time I introduced you to some other blends – in the steam room.” “I love trying new things,” Josh replied, “And it’s always better to share the experience.” From there, Wesley led Josh toward the steam room. When he woke the next morning, Josh groggily reached for his pipe. He remembered to put it in a location where he could find it. He stepped out onto his patio, lighting up. After a few puffs, he exhaled the thick, rich, creamy smoke. While enjoying the experience, and reflecting positively on his workout last night, it all seemed just too complicated. Gone were his concerns about tobacco in general. Honestly, Josh didn’t even think about his addiction this morning. He was centered on whether or not he liked the experience of using the pipe. That’s when he remembered he still had a cigar nub in his car from last night. Surprisingly, even to him, Josh walked out to his car in his pajama pants and slides to grab the nub. Without even thinking about it, he pulled the nub from its location in his console and lit it right away. “This still feels right,” he thought to himself. He moved the nub to his jaw as he walked back toward his apartment door, savoring every millimeter along the way. He was smoking in his apartment now – not even realizing it! As Josh got ready for work, the smoldering nub stuck out of his bearded face. He no longer cared, as his mind told him it was always meant to be there. The nub wouldn’t last long, however. Unfortunately, it was too early to go by a cigar shop on the way to work. He’ll have to make it at least until lunchtime. By lunchtime, Josh was having his first true nic-fit. His head was throbbing. This scared him a bit, but there was no way he was going to give up the feeling he had with a cigar in his maw. As he walked into the tobacconist that Google recommended, his confidence floundered. He was out of his element. As he wandered around looking for what he knew in his limited experience, Josh attempted to look as if he belonged. He observed the men, some in suits, others clearly working class, but each of them had an aura about them – very similar to what he experienced in the gym. He wanted to feel that again, yet here he was, reduced to feeling like a fish out of water. He lowered his head, as if to admit defeat. A moment later, there was a tap on his shoulder. As he turned around, an older man with a with a solid build was standing there, chuffing on a cigar. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sir,” Josh stated, “Am I in your way?” “Not at all,” the man said in a calm and direct manner, “I’m Sarge, I own the place. Just wanted to check to see if there’s anything I can help you with.” Josh’s knees suddenly became slightly weak. Sarge had eyes like gunmetal and a handsome face. He definitely gave off vibes of being either former military or law enforcement. Josh could feel an instant attraction to this man, which confused him. He was never previously into older men, but maybe his experience with PipeDaddy Wesley had changed that. That’s when it hit him! Sarge was a blend – to borrow a term from the men of The Rack – of Omar and Wesley. And what a fine blend he was. Josh could fall into his arms right now and be a very happy man. “Hey, kid!”, Sarge said, startling Josh back to reality. “I’m so sorry,” he responded, “I was off in dreamland. Been out late the last few nights at the gym. Just distracted.” “No problem,” Sarge said, “Looking for anything specific that I might be able to help you with?” If Josh knew for certain Sarge was gay, he would have jumped right in with some perfect innuendo, however this was not the time to test his luck. “Yes, Sir,” Josh said, “I’m looking for some Asylum 13s.” “I can help you with that,” a grinning Sarge said, “Any idea on length and girth?” Josh’s eyes immediately went wide open, as Sarge leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I know Smokey very well.” As the words sunk into Josh’s brain, the stress of the situation dropped immediately from his shoulders. “Sorry, I’m just new at this,” he said, “I’m still learning.” “It’s OK, we all started sometime,” Sarge said, “Now that you’re comfortable, let’s get you hooked up.” With that, Sarge led Josh into the walk-in humidor. A few minutes later, Josh was at the register with his haul. After paying, Sarge reached under the counter and pulled out a store-branded clipper and lighter. “On the house for the new customer,” Sarge said as he dropped them in the bag and smiled, “And hopefully a regular.” “Thank you, Sir,” Josh said, “I really appreciate your help today.” “A stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet,” Sarge said, reaching out his hand for a shake. As Josh felt Sarge’s strong grip, he nodded a thank you. “Oh, by the way,” Sarge said, “I put my card in the bag, too. And one last thing, don’t call me ‘Sir’ – I work for a living – but you can call me all sorts of things later.” Josh turned beet red as he turned to leave, as Sarge let out a belly laugh. When Josh got to his car, he reached in to find the shop’s card. He flipped it over to find a handwritten phone number and the words, “I expect you to use this.” Josh smiled again as he pulled out a cigar to smoke for the remainder of his lunchtime. He certainly needed the time to calm down after the escapade in the shop. However, he did have a lingering thought. Hunter, now Sarge, both knew Smokey? Was he the only person that didn’t know about the gym and its secrets? At the end of the day, Josh pulled into his complex assigned parking space with about half a cigar in his jaw. Some of his neighbors walked by, noticing the smell and giving him a bit of a side-eye. Josh thought about saying something, but he couldn’t be bothered. He needed to relax a bit and get ready for tonight’s workout. Josh noticed he’d missed a text from Hunter at some point during the day. The message briefly inquired, “How goes?” Josh replied with an atypically passive aggressive response, “All is good. Last night of orientation. I’m sure you remember.” Almost instantaneously, three small dots pulsed at the bottom of his screen. Hunter stated, “I do. I hope you know I did this for you. Forgive me?” Josh responded with a red heart emoji, which Hunter liked. A few hours later, Josh emerged through his front door with a fresh cigar in his mouth. He stopped momentarily to rotate and light it, then threw his bag on his shoulder and headed to the car. He may not be a cigar man yet, but he was certainly enjoying whatever this was. As Josh walked into Smokey’s Gym for his last night of orientation, he was pretty certain which tribe he was going to join. His experiences over the last few nights – and today with Sarge – had more than galvanized who he believed he was meant to be. With a little extra pep in his step and a smile on his face, he approached Smokey to check in. “Wow, kid,” Smokey said, “You fall in love or something?” Josh snapped back to reality, “What?” “Nevermind,” Smokey said, “I was just messing with you. You know me!” “Unfortunately,” Josh quipped. “Whoa, spoken like a true smartass,” Smokey responded in a terrible Southern accent – unsuccessfully attempting to copy the famous line from Steel Magnolias – which completely flew over Josh’s head. “Do I smell cigar on you?”, Smokey beamed, “Is our boy becoming a man?” Josh feigned laughter. “Well, tonight’s your last night before you have to commit,” Smokey said. “Tonight’s the night you hang out with the real wierdos of the gym.” “You’re a real piece of shi-it, Smokey,” a pitbull of a man with huge delts and bowling ball sized shoulders said in a deep Southern accent, “First, you dishonor one of the best movies of all time and now you try and steal my recruit.” “Josh, this is Nash,” Smokey interrupted, “Just tell him to slow down when you don’t understand his Alabama gibberish.” “For the thousandth time, Smokey,” Nash retorted, “I ain’t from Alabama. I’m from Mississippi.” “Same difference,” Smokey said. “Don’t mind him none,” Nash said, “He clearly getting forgetful in his old age. Might be time for the home.” After dropping the nasty burn that left Smokey dumbfounded, Nash abruptly turned and darted toward the very back of the gym. Josh chuckled as he picked up his bag and ran to catch up with Nash. As they approached the area where the smokeless tobacco users hung out, Josh could see he was going to love it here. These guys were the powerlifters and strongmen of the gym. They all had thick bodies, made for moving weight and utilizing raw power. Nash could see Josh’s eyes lighting up. “Like what you see so far?”, he asked. “Definitely!”, Josh responded. It was also kind of nice that it wasn’t as smoky in their area. Sure, some of it drafted over, but it was clear these guys weren’t inhaling anything substantial. “The boys over here train heavy,” Nash said, “We’re not so worried about looking good, but making sure we get the job done.” He ended the statement with a sly smile. “But seriously, most of the guys in our crew work in blue collar jobs,” Nash continued, “Construction, police and corrections officers, etc. Roles where it helps to be strong and not really care too much about what other people think of you.” Josh thought this all sounded really good to him. He knew he wasn’t working out just to show off or look a certain way. He wanted to use whatever gains he made – whether in his day-to-day work or for play. “Trust me,” Nash said, “You’re not going to be able to lift the amount of weight most of us throw around in a day. But we can certainly give you the chance to experience it.” With that, Nash drew Josh’s attention to the cabinet just off the floor. “We probably have the biggest options of all the tribes,” Nash said, “We call ourselves Lippers, even though not everyone uses their tobacco that way. It just makes sense. Some of the assholes call our area ‘the spitoon’. I mean, it’s shitty, but not gonna lie that some of the boys miss their bottles now and then.” Nash chuckled, giving Josh a slight tap on the arm to emphasize the joke. Inside the cabinet was a wide variety of things Josh had never seen before. “In here, you’ve got a bunch of types of dip in the cans – natural, long cut, flavored, and pouches,” Nash said, “We also have some of that stuff that the rednecks and old school baseball guys like in the big pouches. They call it chew, but where I’m from we call it chaw.” Nash continued, “For you, being new, I think we should start you out on come Copenhagen Wintergreen, long-cut. The flavor is milder and the texture is easy to manage in your lip. I’m more of a Cope snuff man, but you’ll figure out what you like.” Nash held out a can of the Cope Wintergreen for Josh to take. He also handed him a water bottle. “I’m assuming by the way you’re looking that you’ve never dipped before,” Nash said, with Josh giving him an affirming nod. “You’re gonna need this bottle, too,” Nash continued, “Cuz you’re new, you’ll want to spit a lot. Some of these hosses gut their spit, but you won’t want to do that until you’re used to it. Some people never do.” With some trepidation, Josh took the can and bottle from Nash. This ritual seemed the most foreign to him, so he was definitely going to need some coaching. “Just take a healthy pinch and put it in your lip, like this,” Nash said just before demonstrating, “Use your finger or tongue to make sure it’s in a spot where you’re comfortable. That’s it.” Josh followed suit. It was a very odd feeling at first, especially having a bulging lip. Then the saliva started building up. “Just spit in your bottle,” Nash said, “Otherwise it’s gonna end up on your shirt.” Josh followed Nash’s instructions. “This is going to take some getting used to,” Josh said with a bit of a lisp, with his lip not allowing him to fully close his mouth yet. “You’ll be fine,” Nash said, “Just like those other guys get used to talking around a cigar or pipe in their mouth, same goes for dip.” Josh’s brain began to tingle as the nicotine hit his system. He actually felt a bit dizzy for a moment. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you that it can be a little intense for a bit,” Nash said. After a few minutes, Josh got his sea-legs back under him and Nash led him to the floor. They started with heavy squats, then deadlifts, then overhead presses. Josh was wrecked by the time they were done. Nash had definitely put Josh through a great full-body workout that would help him become a powerlifter like Nash. “Shee-it, kid,” Nash said, “You definitely fit in with the boys. I think you’re gonna like it.” With that, Nash took Josh over to a mirror. Josh could not believe how he looked. He did a double-take, looking at Nash for confirmation. “Are you kidding me?”, Josh asked in excitement, “This is incredible. I’m so big and strong looking.” “Glad you like it,” Nash said as his bulging lip formed a smile, “I could get used to seeing you around here. It looks good on you and you look very comfortable in it.” Josh took a moment to spit in his bottle, then said, “I could get used to it, too. And you!” Josh leaned in to give a tobacco-laden kiss. “Now, now, boy,” Nash responded, “As my momma used to day, don’t go using a check you can’t cash.” Nash grabbed Josh’s now ample, but firm ass. Josh took Nash by the hand, pulling him toward the steam room. Taking the hint, Nash said, “I ain’t even had the chance to tell you how you can creatively use dip spit as lube.” Josh responded with a smirk, saying, “I guess you’ll have to show me!” After the conclusion of both “workouts” for the night, Josh gathered his stuff to head out. As he walked by the desk, Sarge called him over. “Looking good there, kid,” Smokey said, “This is a pretty good look on you, I have to admit. Just remember, when you come tomorrow it will be time to make your decision.” Josh obviously knew this was coming, but Smokey pointing it out didn’t make things any easier. “Understood, Boss,” Josh responded in a deep, throaty tone. “Damn, boy,” Smokey responded, “That voice and body could get an old man aroused.” Josh opened his bottle and spit, adding to the dark liquid. “And that was a boner killer,” Smokey said with disdain in his voice, as he replaced his cigar in his maw. “If I’d known it was only that easy, I would have started earlier,” Josh said while smiling, then said, “I will be ready. See you tomorrow.” He then headed out the door. As Josh sat in his car, he looked at the unspent cigar in his console. He really wanted to light it up, but he was perfectly satiated with the Cope in his lip. This was the first time he’d truly been in conflict. He liked the experience with both cigars and smokeless tobacco. “I don’t need to decide right now,” he told himself, “I’ll need to sleep on it.” With that, he started his car and headed home. The next day, Josh woke up like the rest of the week, missing the changes he went through the evening before. However, he especially missed the muscularity and mass he had. He felt powerful after his session with Nash. Lifting all of that weight. Maybe it was just the fact he wasn’t inhaling smoke for a change. This was definitely confusing to him. One thing he did need to do was feed his addiction. Having finally given in to the growing need, he internally said “Fuck it” to himself and reached for the can of Cope in his workout bag. He thought about searching for another cigar nub, but he didn’t want to be bothered. At least with dip, he could stuff in a lipper and not have to worry about the ash when he was in his apartment. It was convenient and easy. While getting ready, Josh heard his phone ping. Upon reviewing the new message, it was Hunter with a simple, “Good luck tonight! Call me later!” Josh finally let a smile unleash across his face. Yes, he had been slightly upset that he was tricked – no, not told all of the facts – about the situation, but he did enjoy it. It was nice to escape hid normal life a bit and try out all of these different options. He responded with, “Thank you. I will, promise!” When he was about to leave, Josh almost dreaded having to remove the tobacco from his lip. He was really enjoying it. Sure, it was probably still the “new user high”, but it seemed so simple. But he wanted to make sure he brushed his teeth. He wasn’t ready to reveal this particular habit to everyone at work yet. He took a last stare at his options – the cigarette pack, his pipe, the can of Cope, and the couple of cigars he had left from his visit to Sarge’s shop. Shunning the pipe and cigarettes, he grabbed a cigar and his Cope can, throwing them in his work bag. Decision made, he left for work. While enjoying his cigar, he passed Sarge’s shop on his way to the office. He briefly reminisced about their meeting, wishing he had talked to him more. Sure, he could obviously talk to Hunter because he knew all about the process. But Sarge was a stranger. He didn’t have any history with him. He could be whomever he wanted with him. Not to mention, he was very sexy. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, Josh had to calm down. He was horny and could have rubbed one out right there. After a few deep breaths to calm down, he took the last draw on his cigar for now and extinguished the remainder for later. Josh did nothing more than go through the motions of his day. If you’d ask him to recall what he did or what was said to him by his supervisors or co-workers, he would not have remembered. All he could focus on was the fact he had to make a decision tonight – a decision that would impact his life permanently. While it should have been stressful, he had an eerie calm about himself. The hard part was done, he just wanted to go into this situation with a clear head. At the end of the day, Josh decided he’d put in a dip for the road. After throwing a pinch in his lip like a seasoned pro, he felt the nicotine rush. “That’s the stuff,” he thought to himself, “I needed that.” He continued home, passing the smoke shop once again, tempted to stop – but didn’t. Once he got home, Josh instinctually grabbed a cigar and went to his porch. Not that he was concerned about smoking in his apartment anymore, but he wanted to just relax, scroll on his phone, and hear the birds chirping outside. He stoked his cigar, taking several pulls, then realized he got extremely light-headed. Confused, he touched his face and realized he forgot to take out his lipper of Cope! “Holy shit!”, Josh exclaimed. He was freaking out, concerned that he may overdose on nicotine. After a few minutes and some deep breaths, his heart rate came back down and the wooziness subsided. That is when Josh came to a realization. He didn’t have to choose. He could do whatever he wanted. This was his life. He didn’t have to be exclusive to one vice. Not to mention, it was kind of hot that he could handle two at once. Now it was just a matter of preference. With this thought unlocked, he finished his cigar with his dip in and went to take a rest before leaving for the gym in the evening. As Josh arrived at Smokey’s that evening, he knew what his heart desired. Walking up to the desk, he was nursing a lipper and placed his spit filled bottle on the counter. “Disgusting,” Smokey said, glaring at the young man with a disappointed look. He lifted up his cigar to take a puff, then said, “So, am I to take this as a sign of your decision? If so, I’m disappointed you’d choose that shit over a real man’s stogie. Guess I pegged you wrong.” Josh took a beat, then pulled out his can of Cope, placing it on the counter. Then, in a surprise move, he pulled out a tube with his precious Asylum 13 Ogre, placing it next to the tin. “This is my decision, Smokey,” he said, “I choose both. Cigarettes and pipes just weren’t for me. But I won’t be without these options.” With a curious look, Smokey took an uncharacteristically long pause, then said, “Well, that is a bit of a surprise. I didn’t take you for a double-dipper, pun intended. Looks like you grew some balls during your time at the Gym.” Josh assertively retorted, but with a hint of apprehension in his voice concerned Smokey would get upset with him, “Will this be a problem?” “Absolutely not,” Smokey responded, “It is rare. Most guys here find their tribe and just stick with what they know. Every once in a while we get a divergent like you, someone who likes more than one and can live in both worlds equally. I don’t get it myself. I can’t live without my cigars. But if that’s the path you choose, all I honestly care is that you made the decision on your free will.” “Definitely,” Josh said, “I came to this realization myself. It’s what I want.” “As long as I get to see you smoking a fine cigar,” Smokey said, smiling around the stogie clamped in his jaw, “I pegged you as a cigar man from the start. At least I wasn’t completely wrong.” “So, what do I do now?”, Josh asked. “We just have a little pomp and circumstance for the newbies,” Smokey replied. He leaned over to the intercom mic to his side and tapped the button. “Attention everyone. Little Joshie here has ended his orientation. He is a full member, with all rights and privileges, effective immediately. If anyone has a problem with that, you’ll have to answer to me.” There was a thunderous applause from the members in the gym recognizing that Josh had become one of them. After the applause died, Smokey tapped the mic once again, “Nash and Omar, please report to the desk.” That announcement seemed foreign to the room. Josh could hear people mumbling, looking at him, and pointing. This is the first time he’d really felt “on display” in this environment. Nash and Omar arrived within seconds of each other. The were cordial, but had quizzical looks on their faces. Nash broke the silence with, “Does this mean he is a switch-hitter, Boss?” They all momentarily chuckle, but Smokey brought them back together with, “Yes, boys. The kid has decided he’s into both. So, you’ll have to share him. Do y’all have a problem with that?” Nash and Omar look at each other and shrug. “No issue with me, Boss,” Omar responded. Nash shook his head, while squeezing out spit into his bottle. “Then it’s settled, Josh,” Smokey said, “Welcome to the family. Boys, will you please take him back to the locker room to change for the last time?” Nash perked up, “Only if I get him in the steam room first after he changes!” Omar interrupted, “That’s not fair, bro! He was a cigar man first!” Smokey rolled his eyes, then asserted, “See, Josh. This is the issue. My horny staff never like to share. But they’ll get over it.” Josh turned a bright red from embarrassment – he’d never had guys fight over him before – but he liked it. “We’re just messing with ya,” Nash said, “Omar and I have, um, shared before.” Nash winked at Omar, who slyly looked away. Omar then said, “Yeah, it’s perfectly fine. Just consider us your daddies, now.” Josh responded, saying, “I’m proud to have you guys as my dads. So, how about we get to it?” With that, the 3 men headed to the locker room. On their way back, they stopped to get some gear. Omar grabbed some extra Asylums, while Nash grabbed a couple cans from his stash. “If you’re gonna use both at times, you probably don’t wanna dip a flavored tobacco cuz it might throw off the taste. I suggest you get used to something straight,” Nash said. He handed him 2 cans, one Cope Long Cut Straight and the other Cope Snuff. Josh thanked both of them, but couldn’t help but joke about Nash’s comment, “There’s nothing straight about me!” They all laughed as they arrived at the locker room entrance. Omar quipped, ”This is it. Head on in there, thrown in a lipper, then start hauling on a cigar, and let the magic happen. We’re not sure exactly what the combo will do to you – but we’ll be here for you on the other end. Are you ready?” “As I’ll ever be,” Josh responded. Before heading inside, Josh turned to the massive men, embracing them in a 3-way hug. “Thanks again,” he said, and walked inside. For the first time, Josh was nervous. There was no backing out now. He opened the can of Cope snuff, spilling a portion on the floor. After loading up his lip, he then worked on prepping the cigar – almost forgetting to clip off the end. Following this comedy of errors, he finally got the hang of it and chuffed away. There he was, allowing the combination take its effect on him in this magical place. Josh’s head was obviously swimming from the high level of nicotine in his system. Ironically though, he felt a sense of calm. A few minutes in, he could feel a dull pain all over body – in his bones. He watched as his feet lengthened and widened. His legs and arms extended, even his fingers. Even his skull felt as though it was shifting. Placing his new hands on his face, he could feel a more angular jaw. Josh kept chuffing his cigar and expunging saliva, allowing the process to continue. Once his frame finished developing, he ran to the mirror. He’d grown in height to at least 6’3”-6’4”. It was a completely different viewpoint from his former 5’9”, as well as the now size 14 feet looked like boats in comparison to his former 10s. He more or less looked like a skinny basketball player. He wasn’t upset, just hoped there was more coming – and that’s when the next phase kicked in! Still looking at himself in the mirror, with a bulging lip and pulling on his cigar, Josh’s entire musculature exploded around the new frame. Pecs ballooned as his shoulders, delts, and arms inflated. Quads expanded, calves bulged. He finally understood why his feet were so large now – his old ones would have never supported his new weight. Finally, he watched his mid-section shrink, leaving a cobblestone road of abs, as his formerly chunky hips and butt became firm. In the final stages, Josh lost even more body fat. This left him with vascular, defined muscle all over his body. He had the upper-body of a seasoned bodybuilder and the lower-body of a powerlifter. The mid-section was the biggest surprise. He assumed he would have some kind of bulging or undefined belly, but for whatever reason he was very athletic looking. As he took another pull on his cigar, Josh’s head began tingling. This was the only time he was scared in the process, because he couldn’t physically see what was happening. All he knew was that whatever it was made him feel surprisingly good. His previous self-consciousness melted away. A never previously known wave of confidence filled his mind. Then, as if going through a second puberty, Josh felt his entire body as his erogenous zones seemed to reset inside this newly formed body. Simply touching his nipples seemed to push him over the edge. But once he looked down to see his thick 10-inch dick standing at full mast, he really knew things would be different from here on out! It was then he heard a voice, “Hey, kid,” Nash yelled, “Are you OK in there?” Josh responded with, “Yeah, I’m good. I think it’s over,” with a deeper, almost rusty, tone to his voice that shocked him more than anything else. He had to talk again just to hear his voice, “Sorry, not used to hearing myself like this. I’ll be right out.” When Josh looked up at the clock to see how long he’d been there, what had seemed like at least 2 hours had only been about 30 minutes. With a new swagger and confidence, he placed his cigar in his jaw, grabbed his spit bottle, and walked toward the exit into his new, improved life. Omar and Nash waited at the exit when they heard a rumbling sound. Omar caught the first glimpse, as his jaw nearly opened causing him to drop his cigar to the ground. “Holy shit!”, exclaimed. As Josh re-entered the gym floor, the pudgy young man was gone. Now, he was an athletic, powerlifting, bodybuilder, who could have anything and anyone he wanted. He confidently pulled on his cigar, exhaling a cloud of smoke, then took a moment to extricate some tobacco spit into his container. “Well boys?”, Josh asked in his new, booming voice, “What do you think?” Both Omar and Nash walked up and gave Josh a big hug. Other gym members also walked up to give a typical bro-slap and half hug. Everyone told him how great he looked. After a few minutes, Josh heard an announcement over the intercom. “Josh, please come to the desk”, rang out in Smokey’s indistinguishable tone. As Josh headed toward the desk, a familiar face came into view over Smokey’s shoulder that made him smile. Smokey interrupted the moment saying, “Well damn, kid. You clean up nice!” Josh swore he could hear Smokey salivating. “You have a visitor,” Smokey continued, as Josh smiled in Sarge’s direction. “I wanted to surprise you,” Sarge said, presenting Josh with a box of his current favorite cigars, Asylum 13 Ogres. “How did you even know?”, Josh asked. “I told you I knew Smokey,” Sarge responded, “I had a feeling something was up when you didn’t call me. So, I called Smokey to see if he knew anything. Luckily, he did – so I thought I’d surprise you.” Josh said, “Yeah, I’ve been a bit distracted. Even though that seems a bit like stalker behavior, I’m really glad to see you.” Josh leaned over to give Sarge a big kiss on the lips. “Wow. My transformation wasn’t as dramatic,” Sarge said, “I mean, I was certainly glad to no longer be a skinny, depressed, recently discharged soldier. But, you are a masterpiece!” “Well, I have to give credit to Smokey and the other guys here at the gym,” Josh said, “Without them, I don’t know that I would have ever trusted or lasted through the process. But, I’m definitely glad I did. Not just because I got this rockin’ bod, but because I definitely learned a lot about myself.” Josh stopped momentarily to dig in his bag for his cell phone. “Oh shit! I almost forgot about Hunter. He’s the one that introduced me to Dylan. He started this whole thing. Do y’all mind if we take a quick selfie to send him?” Both Smokey and Sarge agreed. With that, Josh held out his phone and snapped a pic, sending it to Hunter. As the men in the gym were stopping by to congratulate Josh on his official membership, he heard a notification on his phone. “AWESOME!”, then, “CONGRATULATIONS!”, following with “Who’s the hot daddy?” with eggplant and droplet emojis. Josh responded with, “Tell you later. Just needed to say thank you.”, then “You’re buying the first round tomorrow night!”. Hunter’s final response was “You got it! Love you!” Josh smiled as he put his phone away. “So”, Josh said while turning to Sarge, “What do you say we head out?” Smokey interrupted, “But you haven’t even worked out tonight.” Momentarily flustered, but quickly standing, Sarge said, “Oh, I’m sure we can get you sweating a bit.” Josh took a draw on his cigar, picked up his gym bag, and grabbed Sarge by the wrist. All Smokey could do was smile around the cigar stuffed in his jaw, observing the men walk away. One of the gym patrons said, “And the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day!” Snapping back, Smokey said, “Fuck off!” Arm in arm, Josh and Sarge headed out the door. Just outside, Josh noticed Dylan hauling on a cigarette while speaking to a lanky young man who appeared to be around 21 or so. Josh said, “I’ll see you at your place in a bit…Daddy,” smirked, planted a kiss on Sarge’s cheek, then followed-up with a quick smack on the ass. Sarge was momentarily surprised, responding with a sultry, “Woof! You better be!” As Josh walked away, heading toward Dylan, he said, “I’m going to introduce myself to the fresh meat.”

Jake was facing his great fate. He checked the yellow bodybuilding speedo he was holding in his hand. This yellow speedo belongs to Kevin, the bodybuilder who lives next door. Last night, Jake snuck into Kevin’s house to complete the magic. At that time, Kevin was doing laundry, and Jake found a yellow Speedo among Kevin’s laundry. He secretly stole this and quickly returned home. Fortunately, Jake could smell Kevin’s body odor strongly in the speedo: the scent that, like it or not, emanated from Kevin’s genitals. It was a masculine, deep body odor that could never be removed with detergent. Jake placed Kevin’s Speedo in the large jar he had prepared ahead of time. He then filled the jar with the magic potion. After a while, light particles appeared in the potion and began to stick to the yellow speedo one by one. The next day, when Jake woke up, Speedo had absorbed most of the potion. Jake stood in front of the mirror as he waited for every last drop to be absorbed into the speedo. A 5'4", 90 lb. skinny man was in the mirror: wispy chest, skinny abdomen, thin limbs, and a plain ugly face. Jake had lived his whole life as a quiet, lonely nerd. Even now, as a college student, he had no friends. He was rarely there, he was always alone. Even his life as a college student was even worse than when he was in high school: because Kevin started bullying him. ‘Maybe I’ll have to live as a nerd from now on.’ Jake thought. Literally, if he didn’t know about the existence of the magic potion, he might have had a terrible college life, being bullied by Kevin. Kevin’s bullying firstly gave him a desire for revenge, and secondly it taught him a desire for a strong, muscular body. Kevin’s body was the most ideal and perfectly muscular body Jake had in mind. Kevin was a successful 21-year-old athlete and college student who attended the same college as Jake: a 7'3", 500 lb American football player with a huge muscular body. He had even competed in several bodybuilding competitions, and easily won first place in all of them. Naturally, this gave him sky-high popularity. Every boy and girl wanted to be with Kevin. His only flaw was his personality: kind to others, but vicious to Jake. It was just because Jake was a nerd. That was why Jake wanted revenge on Kevin, and it was also why he got a magic potion from some suspicious witch. According to the witch’s explanation, this potion has the power to swap physical traits between two men. It was simple to use. First, soak Kevin’s underwear in the potion. Once all of the potion has been absorbed into the underwear, Jake puts it on. Finally, Jake chants the magic spell, and the magic begins. This means that all of Kevin’s traits (muscles, skeleton, stamina, metabolism, DNA levels, etc.) will be transferred to Jake’s body. And this also means that all of Jake’s traits are transferred to Kevin’s body. Finally, Kevin’s speedo absorbed every last drop of the potion. Soon, just as the witch had explained, it glowed with a weak light and soon returned to normal. Jake instinctively knew that the magic was ready. Now all he has to do is wear it and chant the magic spell and the magic begins. But instead of putting it on right away, Jake made a little plan. First, he took off all his clothes and wore only Kevin’s yellow speedo and gray training pants. The speedo and pants were too much larger than Jake’s thin waist and small thigh, But he did not care. 'Soon these will fit me perfectly. Maybe it will become smaller.’ Jake grinned. He hurried out to the backyard of the house. At that time, Kevin was doing some light warm-up work-out in the backyard. He was wearing nothing except sports pants. He often worked out like this, wearing only pants. There was no shame in him. If has such a big, nice muscular body, who would feel embarrassed to expose it? Well, maybe today is different. When Jake came out to the backyard, Kevin, who was stretching, automatically turned his gaze towards Jake. Kevin immediately laughed when he saw Jake wearing too big and baggy sweatpants. “Ha! Anyone who sees you will think you’re a beggar.” Said Kevin. He flexed his biceps. “Or are you jealous of this wonderf-” “-Your favorite Speedo,” Then Jake said. Kevin immediately noticed something strange. Jake was strangely confident. “What the-” “-has disappeared yesterday, dont you?” “…How do you know that?” “Because I have it.” Jake took off his sweatpants. To be precise, he only let go of his pants. The pants slid to the floor, revealing Kevin’s yellow speedo hidden inside. Jake looked at Kevin, his hand clutching his speedo triumphantly. Kevin’s face was twisted with anger. “You little thief!” Kevin immediately jumped over the fence and charged at Jake like a bull. But Jake was a little faster. Just before Kevin’s hand touched Jake, Jake chanted a magic spell. At that moment, Kevin and Jake’s bodies seemed to stop as if time had stopped. As if paralyzed. The transformation came slowly but surely. As Kevin struggled to move, he noticed something strange. Jake didn’t look small anymore. Their height difference was obvious, so Kevin always looked down on Jake. But now there wasn’t much difference between his and Jake’s eye levels. No, the eye level has become the same. No, Jake started to look down at Kevin little by little…? 'Jake is getting bigger?’ Kevin thought. But he felt like he was missing something more essential. Then he saw his surroundings and realized what he was missing. Although it was not growing as rapidly as Jake, the surrounding scenery was also slowly growing. And through it all he could see his own arm. An arm whose massive muscles are gradually drying out. Kevin finally realized the truth. Just as Jake was getting bigger, Kevin himself was getting smaller! It was exactly as Kevin realized. Kevin’s massive muscles began to dry out quickly. His thick shoulders became as thin and narrow as Jake’s, and his chest, which was as massive as a mountain, became as flat as a dry plain. His proud arms shrank like small twigs. His perfect ten-pack abs disappeared from his abdomen and became thin. The vast back, which was wider than the door, suddenly became as thin as Jake. Both the bulky thighs and thick calves disappeared, and only weak legs remained. As his muscles shrunk, his once thick bones gradually became thinner and shorter. He shrunk to exactly the same height as Jake. Meanwhile, his huge penis, the essence and source of all his masculinity, became as small as Jake’s. Kevin was exhausted and out of breath. The fatigue was such that Kevin didn’t even notice that part of his facial structure was deforming. The fatigue he felt for the first time in his life. Meanwhile, Kevin’s handsome, masculine face has now become a plain, somewhat nerd-like face. Kevin flopped down in his seat. The sports pants he was wearing flowed down Kevin’s slender legs. “what…!” Kevin said. His deep baritone voice has now changed into a high-pitched voice. The star athlete and bodybuilder who once dominated college campuses has become a frail, small man like Jake. At that moment, Jake’s thin and weak muscles began to become strong and massive in an instant. His narrow, skinny shoulders became as wide and thick as Kevin’s, and a huge mountain of magnificent muscle bulged from his flat chest. The two arms, which were thin like tree branches, became thick and huge to the point of being proud. His slim abdomen became firm, and after a while, his perfect ten-pack abs were clearly revealed on his abdomen. The skinny and weak back became as wide and strong as Kevin’s. His skinny thighs became bulky, and his weak calves became strong. As his muscles grew, his thin, small bones gradually became thicker and longer. It grew exactly as tall as Kevin. Meanwhile, Jake felt a hot, tingling sensation in his groin. His testicles twitched as if they were being squeezed, then grew as large as an apple as all the essence of Kevin’s masculinity was injected into them. A thick vein rose from his testicles and connected to his cock, and in an instant, his small dick became as thick and long as Kevin’s. Jake also gasped for air. It was not because he was exhausted like Kevin, but because of the intense and ecstatic sensation he felt for the first time in his life. It was so intense that, like Kevin, Jake didn’t even notice that part of his facial structure was deforming. Soon the plain, nerd-looking face was upgraded to the most manly and handsome version of Jake himself. Jake stood proudly in his place. The sweatpants no longer fit him at all, and the only thing that fit him was Kevin’s yellow Speedo. “Good…” Jake finally said. His high-pitched voice changed into a deep baritone voice. By taking everything from Kevin, the once frail and small man was reborn as a star athlete and bodybuilder who dominated the college campus. “What have you done to-?!” “Shut up.” Jake said. Kevin instinctively closed his mouth due to the overwhelming feeling of intimidation. He had never faced anyone bigger than himself. The fear and awe it brought was much more terrifying than Kevin had imagined. Meanwhile Jake lifted his arms and placed them behind his head. He looked down at Kevin with a satisfied smile. Like a predator looking down at its prey. “Thanks for donating your muscles, idiot. Now it’s time to payback.”

These are stories that I personally really enjoy. It's all about muscle theft. I would like to introduce them to you. Unfortunately, the author of these novels appears to no longer be writing 1. Desperate Husbands https://www.pridesites.com/omelissokomos/clarence591/desperate-husbands.html 2. My Father's Child https://www.pridesites.com/omelissokomos/clarence591/my-fathers-child.html 3. Taking the Good https://www.pridesites.com/omelissokomos/clarence591/taking-the-good.html 4. Second Chances https://www.pridesites.com/omelissokomos/clarence591/second-chances-00.html

Ha! I'm a genius scientist, so I knew my experiment would be completed successfully, but I never expected it to be this perfectly beautiful. Chase's muscles, bones, stamina, metabolism, and even his genetic levels are all mine! Chase...My younger brother has everything I don't never have: giant muscles, handsome faces, tremendous power, superior alpha DNA! Just a high school student, he's already 7ft tall, a perfect muscular body, and even smart. It's made him one of the most famous star athletes in the area, including high school. He even won overwhelmingly in local bodybuilding this time. As an older brother, I've always been jealous and hate Chase. I was only 5ft tall, and my body was as thin as a branch. I was ugly and didn't get anyone's attention. Even from my parents. I wanted to be like Chase. But no matter how hard I worked out or tried to be recognized by people, I realized it was just an unachievable dream. That's why I decided to take Chase's muscles. There's only one thing that makes me better than Chase: intelligence. Even I had incredibly high intelligence. It's not surprising that I got interested in science and started researching the human body. At first, I worked on body swaps. Yeah, I wanted to be like Chase. But unfortunately, even with my high intelligence, I couldn't find a way, and I just found out that body swap are absolutely impossible. It's impossible to transfer a person's consciousness to another body in any case. So I set the direction of my research a little different. What if I transfer material, not consciousness? For example, what if I transfer Chase's massive muscles, thick bones, powerful stamina, high metabolism, superior genetic levels to my body and at the same time my small muscles, thin bones, weak stamina, low metabolism, inferior genetic levels to Chase's body? What if I and Chase had a one-on-one exchange of muscle-to-muscle, bone-to-bone? I've worked on it, and surprisingly found out it's possible. If it's the only problem, this one-on-one exchange has to happen in less than a nanosecond. That way, we can proceed absolutely safely. But I'm a genius scientist! It's very easy to solve that problem. Still, there was something disappointing. Another thing, this experiment did not promise a perfect body swap. Because our appearance will remain the same after the experiment. Still, there was one hope. Because our genetic levels are also swapped, my appearance will be the most idealized version of myself, while Chase's appearance will be the worst version of himself. Well, I'm very satisfied with just that. I immediately built two glass, cylindrical chamber-shaped machines in the basement. Then I tricked Chase into locking him in. And… yeah, my experiment succeeded. Can you believe that the biceps and bones in my arms are the ones that were in Chase's body just now? I mean, in cells and tissue units. I can feel it, the power and heat of it… in my massive chest, in my 10 pack abs, in my thighs and calves, even in my thick, long cock. Is this something Chase has always felt 24/7? And, yeah, not just the muscles and bones. I take Chase's stamina and metabolism. And Chase's superior genetic levels too. With this I can keep these muscles and bones very easily. It's fantastic. Plus, Best of all, as I expected, Chase's genetic levels gave me the best-looking, idealized version of myself. ..... Oh, don't you wonder where my original muscles and bones went, Chase? It's in your body now, of course. My small muscles, thin bones, weak stamina, low metabolism and inferior genetic levels… I don't need them anymore. I can't let them stay in my body and damage my perfection. So I dumped them all on your body. That's why I thought of a one-on-one exchange. Yes, Chase. From now on... I'm a heavyweight bodybuilder at 7ft and a college student. And you're now a 5ft skinny nerd high school student. I have finally become a real man! And you... Chase, you are nothing now.

I knew it was strange – a thirty-three year old man writing a letter to Santa Claus - but it had been a lifelong dream of mine to meet the legend. I had nothing to lose . . . and a lot to gain. I also knew St. Nicholas had a lot to gain from our meeting, too. It would be a win-win. So, I wrote a letter and mailed it on December first. It asked for one thing and one thing only. I requested that Santa make my house his last stop on Christmas Eve. I told him I realized I was asking a lot, but that I would have hot cocoa and cookies waiting . . . especially made for him. I had no idea how long it would take him to deliver presents all over the world, but I’d be waiting. Around three in the morning, as I was sleeping on the sofa in the living room, I felt a rush of cold air and heard boots lightly hitting the floor. I opened my eyes and quickly sat up. There he was – the man of my dreams . . . well, almost. Full belly, red rosy cheeks, spectacles on nose, long white beard, and the red velvet suit I had envisioned for so many years. He allowed me to take him in for a full minute. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, Andrew,” the man said in his grandpa-like jolly voice. “It was a strange thing you wanted for Christmas, but here I am . . . you are my last stop of this Christmas season. I did, however, bring you another little gift. What’s Christmas without presents, right?” Santa held out a small wrapped box, which I took and immediately tore off the paper. It was a ring – a simple gold band with three small diamonds embedded in it. It was beautiful. I knew it would fit perfectly before I even put it on. I stared at it on my hand, marveling at its beauty, and then I looked back up at St. Nicholas. “Thank you, sir,” I said, shyly. “I have a gift for you, but first . . . I thought we might have some hot cocoa.” “That sounds nice, Andrew. The last few stops have been in some pretty cold places. Even the reindeer didn’t like it,” Santa replied. I went into the kitchen and ladled up a big mug of cocoa – scooping it from the pot on the stove. This was my grandmother’s special recipe. It had been simmering for hours. I also grabbed a plate full of cookies – another recipe of my granny’s – and returned to the living room. Santa was sitting by the fire in one of the matching wing-back chairs. I handed him his first gifts – finally getting to be extra close to the man. Our hands touched as I passed the mug and this excited me beyond belief. I resisted the urge to bend down and kiss his face, for I knew that time would come . . . eventually. Our eyes did meet, however, and I saw the gentle, loving, father figure of all the hundreds of stories I had read about the man. I definitely had a thing for daddies, but I also had a special dream for Santa. “This is especially good cocoa, Andrew, and the cookies are delicious. It makes it feel even more like Christmas . . . the most wonderful day of the year,” Santa said, smiling. I took his empty mug and returned to the kitchen to refill it. When I returned, I was happy to see my early morning guest had devoured all the cookies. He took the mug and sipped away. I went and sat in the other chair . . . across from him. “It is so cozy and warm, here, Andrew. You have made a lovely home,” Santa said, looking around. “Now, why would you want me to make sure you were my last stop of the evening?” “It’s a little . . . um . . . complicated, sir,” I replied. “Andrew, I’ve known you all of your life. I can recall all the things you have asked for over your numerous years of gift requests. I know you by what you want. There’s nothing you can’t share with St. Nicholas,” he answered back. “Well, sir, I have a major crush on you. I always have,” I said – turning bright red. “Trust me, Andrew, I knew that already. The letters you’ve left by the fireplace in recent years left nothing to the imagination,” Santa said, chuckling like a wise grandfather. “Um . . . sorry about that. I just wrote what I felt,” I said, turning even redder. “So, when I was younger it was fine for you to be this rotund, jolly, old man . . . as a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I needed since I never really knew either of my grandfathers. But now that I’m older . . . and I’d like to think wiser . . . well…”I said. “Well what?” Santa asked, but I didn’t get the chance to reply. Suddenly, the man in the red suit flew out of his chair onto his hands and knees on the floor. The cocoa mug went flying and shattered against the stonework around the fireplace. It was like a big spring in the seat of the chair had been released and sent him sailing into the air. I waited. I could tell the bearded elder man was unable to move – his entire extra padded body was tensed beyond belief. Santa was also panting like he was about to give birth . . . which he was, in a way. A bone chilling deep moan erupted from the man’s mouth and, I have to admit, it turned me on. I took advantage of the fact he could not move and advantage of the silence, once his moans had stopped. “Lately, I’ve been thinking you could use a revamp, Santa . . . you know, upgrade your image for this century,” I said, slowly – letting him continue to take deep breaths. “When’s the last time you got to try something new. I mean, you’ve been this jolly, overweight, gift-giver for a really long time. So, I thought it might be fun to help you become what I would want Santa to look like. I actually think you’re going to like the results as much as I will. There’s going to be a little pain, I’m afraid. My grandmother’s recipes can only be used once, magically. I’ve been saving that cocoa recipe and the cookie recipe for many years . . . just for this moment. Try to relax, Santa . . . it will help with the transition.” An even louder moan escaped the man’s throat, uncontrollably. It was harsh . . . deeper . . . and much more powerful than it had been just seconds ago. I was tempted to unzip my pants and get some release while I watched the show, but I somehow knew, instinctively, I must wait. I had been pretty specific in my plans for the magic in the drink and food – so I definitely anticipated what was to come. As the breaths of the man got deeper and more powerful, his body heaved up and down – making him look like he was doing yoga moves. It was when one of the moans actually turned into a loud, hair-raising growl that I knew the change was imminent. Sure enough, the man went silent and I heard red velvet begin to tear. Santa’s shoulders widened first. Even through the thick material of his coat, I could see his deltoid muscles beginning to balloon out. He seemed to be adding about two pounds of muscle to his body every minute or so. Soon, a big gap ripped open at the center of his coat. Lats and traps were clearly growing right along with his shoulders and the man was already too wide for his heavy winter coat to contain him. I saw through the grandfatherly white t-shirt he had on under the coat – that fat was slowly turning into hard muscle. Bulges were starting to pop up along his back like popcorn reaching that magic heat. I let out a gasp when the white t-shirt split down the back, too, revealing my first glimpse of new Santa muscles. My pleasure level went off the charts when two thickening horseshoe triceps burst through the sleeves of the jacket. “Ho, ho, fucking hell, Andrew . . . this feels so good. This makes me feel fucking fantastic,” Santa’s new balls-tightening voice boomed into the room. That almost made me lose the load of cum that had been building up inside of me for the entire evening. Not only had Santa’s voice changed – sounding more manly than James Earl Jones and Barry White put together - but I could also tell he would no longer be the sweet, gentle, grandfather figure of years past. Instead of St. Nicholas, we were now going to have an elder St. Nick Fucking Walker – massive beyond belief and cocky as hell. Just what the hot cocoa and cookies had ordered. The sound of ripping material continued to fill the room and Santa’s widening, newly bulging back was revealed even more. I could tell the short chubby man was growing taller, too. The bottom of his pants had pulled from his heavy boots, now showing monstrous calves where smooth twigs used to be. And then the man raised his newly mammoth body, so he was kneeling on the ground in front of me. “Time for Father Christmas to show off, little Andrew. Let’s take a gander at the mammoth, merry freak-mas you’ve created,” the man said as he lifted his enormous body to a standing position. Sometimes, you can wish for something for so long and for so hard that when it actually comes your way, you can end up being disappointed. You can be sad because half the fun was the anticipation . . . the looking forward to the present. This was not one of those times. Santa stood up and his head almost brushed against the ceiling. The man had grown . . . into something closer to Santa Hulk instead of Santa Claus. The hat was still on his head – as if I had told him he could leave it on for what was to come. His shirt and coat, however, were completely gone – disintegrated into scraps of material because there was no way they could even begin to stretch to cover what had grown beneath. Conveniently – for it was sexy as hell – his black leather suspenders had not snapped in two. The leather had stretched to accommodate his new size and ran the length of his now freakish muscular torso. Take the most jacked-up super heavyweight bodybuilder you had ever seen and combine him with the largest, bulkiest strongman powerlifter you had ever seen and you’d begin to understand what was standing in front of me. “Fucking Christmas hell, Andrew . . . it looks like someone has been the best boy in all the land because he’s been given the biggest present, ever!” Santa said, looking down at his own body. “I’m bigger than my sleigh, the unending sack of toys, and all the reindeers put together! Hell, I’ll be carrying everything from now on as I jump from one country to the next.” It was true . . . St. Nicholas now looked about twelve times his previous size. He made the Abominable Snowman look like a kitten. Santa’s midsection was still poking out, but now it was hard-as-hell, roided abs which would clearly be impervious to sledgehammers, jackhammers, or even medieval battering rams hoisted by twenty men. It was the kind of stomach that screamed ‘punch me if you dare’ but also warned that the big man couldn’t be held responsible for what happened to your fists if you did. Arms the size of ten country hams put together hung down on either side of the elephant-of-a-man before Andrew. They were the kind of muscular, bulging arms that made you want to ask for a Christmas present made from iron – because you knew the guy was going to bend and rip apart an I-beam to make the gift right in front of you. Santa’s legs had ballooned with so much thick muscles that the only thing left of his pants were some red, skimpy, Daisy Duke-like shorts held up by the suspenders and by the fucking enormous yule log snaking across the front. It looked like the man could produce a white Christmas for half the globe with just one hefty explosion of that giant hose. Even though I had no idea how the old Santa had magically come down chimneys, it was quite clear – because of shoulders now as wide as country estates – the man would most certainly completely destroy entire buildings as his delts ripped through brick, concrete, and even steel. One glance at the man’s ginormous pecs and equally huge nipples made me want to immediately suck on my own thumb. It was partially because his hefty chest made me instantly revert back to childhood, but it was mostly because of how small, weak, and insignificant it made me feel. Santa Daddy’s colossal pecs made you instantly know there were more powerful things in the world than war, famine, and evilness. It was clear that if Superman had been real, this was the kind of chest he’d be begging for from Santa. Even in the midst of my feeble attempt to prevent myself from blasting off a thick, hot load of muscle-Santa induced eggnog, I marveled at how well I had done at creating the Santa of my dreams. “Look what you’ve gone and made me do, little Andrew,” Santa boomed – looking down at me over his wire-rimmed glasses. “I’ve done blown up something monstrous . . . something freakish.” A giant hand grabbed the front of my nightshirt, twisted, and easily picked me up off the floor – feet immediately dangling back and forth. It seemed like slow motion as my puny body went skyward so my face could now be even with the chiseled face of the elder man. I rose so effortlessly into the air, I knew there was now the kind of power in Santa’s arm that was usually saved for weapons of mass destruction. I was like a piece of lint he was pinching off of his suit. It took nothing to pick me up . . . Santa’s new body was as powerful as it was big. I could tell the fact that my entire grown-man weight didn’t register at all to the man’s arm was a surprise. St. Nick curled me up and down a few times just to confirm how easy it was. Santa let out a laugh, but it wasn’t jolly . . . it was more like a snicker of pleasure. I was then hoisted into the air, my head smacking against the ceiling since the muscled man had forgotten how tall he now was. “Well, for fuck’s sake, when did the room shrink,” Santa said, laughing and lowering me back down so our faces were even. “So, you like your Santa Claus triple extra-large, huh, Andrew? You want your Daddy Christmas able to uproot a thirty meter giant Norway spruce with just one yank, don’t you. You’d like me to be Kris the fucking Hulk instead of Kris Kringle, right?” “Yes sir,” I said, staring at the colossal biceps holding me in the air. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” When a man takes you as his own, it’s not with a gentle peck on the lips or a romantic light smooch. No, when a guy covered with more bulges than a mountain range decides to claim you, it’s more like a bulldozer plowing through a small shed. Santa’s scruffy, rock-hard face slammed into mine and a tongue as powerful as a giant drill pried open my mouth so he could suck in every molecule of my body. He instantly controlled every possible part of my being – my cock shooting even harder than I ever thought it could. My sphincter relaxed completely – totally prepared to take the giant Christmas tree of a cock that now filled Santa’s skimpy shorts. It was clear that St. Hulking Nick could not have cared less if I wanted to be his or not . . . it simply didn’t matter at that point. Santa wasn’t handing out gifts, anymore, he was taking them. And it seemed that I was number one on his list. As we kissed, the big man moved us over so my back was against the wall . . . and then he pressed his giant body against mine, locking me in place. I was now his little pancake, being compressed against concrete and plaster. The deep throat cleansing never stopped – it was like his tongue now reached all the way down inside me and even controlled my cock. I was like some small wind-up toy in his hand and he was about to bust all of my springs from cranking me up too much. Santa was now huffing and puffing like some enormous steam engine getting ready to shoot from the station. I could hear the reindeer on the roof reacting to the grunts of pure pleasure emanating from the giant man who would clearly no longer fit in the sleigh. It was as if Prancer, Vixen, Rudolph, and the others wanted some of what I was getting. It wouldn’t have surprised me at all if they had. Santa’s huge, hungry, manly hand was down my pants and tugging mercilessly on my balls. I was just some plaything for the big man, now. He knew he was making me happy, but that didn’t really matter to him – he just wanted to please himself . . . and I was simply part of the journey. “Hell, forget the fucking cookies and milk, this is the present Santa’s really wanted all these years. I’ve just never been man enough to claim it,” the huge man said, in between sucking the breath out of me and exploring every part of my throat. “That all stops today, though. Thanks to you, Andrew. Who knew we both wanted the same fucking thing for Christmas. I’m not going to be some passive-aggressive holiday gramps from now on. When I come to the house of some guy who’s been naughty, I’m not leaving a lump of coal. I’m going to first punch through the front door to scare the hell out of him . . . forget this coming down the chimney like some timid ghost. I’m going to make sure grown men are pissing themselves before I leave their house – scared shitless . . . and me knowing for sure they’re going to be nice from now on. I’m no longer this jolly old man who charms his way through life . . . no, I’m going to twist wrenches, shake the foundations of houses, and toss men around until they see that Christmas is about giving and not receiving. Well, it’s going to be a lot about receiving, in some ways, though. I think this big old Santa is going to need to leave a lot of his holiday cheer in asses both near and far, if you know what I mean, Andrew. I mean, if Santa is only going to come once a year, then he’s going to want to leave a lot of his warm milk sloshing around inside guys all over the world.” It’s amazing how you can keep yourself from orgasming even when every sexual fantasy you’d ever had was coming true at one moment. I had dreamed about a dirty St. Nick for most of my life – having realized that I was drawn to the idea of a bad Santa way more than a good one a long time ago. I needed a Kris Kringle that was huge, sweaty, powerful, and a lover of all things raunchy. The reality was a hundred times better than anything I could have ever imagined. There was just one part to my dream that had yet to come true . . . but that was about to change. It was as if some unwritten list in my head had been read by Santa without me even knowing it. Hulk Santa was steps ahead of me and I had a feeling it would always be that way. St. Nick pulled his huge body away from mine, holding me in place against the wall by leaving a big hand pressed against my chest. He looked into my eyes, a grin across his face that was clearly jolly in a pornographic way. “Say goodbye to your place, Andrew,” Santa bellowed. “Take a good look around at the old useless life you get to say farewell to, tonight. This old man has given out more presents than he could even begin to count, but tonight he’s taking one home for himself. Later on, my North Pole is going to be stuck so far up inside of you, little man, you’re going to think we’re both one-and-the-same. You’ll be living with bad old St. Nick from now own. I’m going to take the leftover cocoa and cookies in the kitchen and we’re going to feed it to my reindeer. Before we leave your house for the last time, Andrew, old Rudolph and the rest the gang are going to look more like fucking muscular wooly mammoths than they do reindeer. They’re going to need to be huge and powerful to pull this gigantic body of mine . . . and the massive sleigh I’m going to create using the metal frame of your house. You’re going to love watching me make steel do as I say . . . and then you’re going to get to sleep soundly under my big arm as we fly home. How does that sound, little man?” “Like the best Christmas ever,” I replied. “So many holes for me to stuff, Andrew . . . and so little time. I’m thinking the elves are going to freak the hell out when they see my new humongous body. They’re so small . . . even more so, now. I think we’ll stop somewhere on the way home and I’ll pick up some new helpers. The elves are good craftsmen, but they won’t be able to satisfy humongous St. Nick. Let’s get some big men to please me when we get back home. Let’s place you on one of my giant shoulders, Andrew, and let’s start our new adventures by me punching through the ceiling. Merry Fucking Christmas to All and to All a Sex-Filled Night!”

Chapter 3 - I've got it all planned out 6:47 AM - Thompson Residence “Dad, where are you? It’s almost 7. I already made breakfast and ate.” Thomas messaged his dad for the 4th time that morning. It was quite unusual for Thomas to wake up so late in the morning, especially when it was a weekday. It was probably because Edward was always the first one to get up early in the morning to prepare their meal and wake his son up. Thomas was so used to their routine, that he overslept. Edward routinely wakes up at 4 AM to head to the nearby park to exercise and jog. Although Edward only incorporated exercising in the morning just a week prior, he was determined to get back in shape and improve his health. Thomas was proud that his dad started to try and improve his health, even if the cost would be his dad losing the sexy dad bod he had. Getting back to the situation, Thomas was worried that his dad got into trouble when he was out. He also thought that Edward went to the police department early due to an emergency. However, not a single note or text was left to Thomas. He then tried calling him again, for a 2nd time. Yet no one answered. Edward also drives Thomas to school every day. Not wanting to be late for school, he messaged one of his friends to pick him up. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed that his dad’s room was unlocked. One of his dad’s house rules is that entering another’s bedroom without permission is not allowed. This is because Edward keeps some of his weapons, guns, inside his room. And he does not want Thomas to find and misuse the locked weaponry. But since Thomas might find a clue to where his dad is, he entered his dad’s room without any hesitation. And what greeted him was a perfectly clean room. The bed sheets were neatly folded in a way that his dad always did them. Every corner of the room was spotless. A slight aroma that definitely came from cleaning products can be picked up. Even the walls produce the same clean aroma. And the most bizarre thing is that upon closer inspection, even the ceiling looked cleanly fresh. Thomas looked everywhere to find anything that could lead him to his dad. After finding nothing in that suspiciously clean room, he at least knows now that Edward brought his phone and wallet with him. Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Expecting his dad to finally pick up his calls, he quickly fished his phone out. Only to find out that it was his buddy. “Hey, I’m parked outside of your house. Hurry up! We’re gonna be late.” “Yeah, I’m coming there now” Thomas answered back. Just as he sat in the car, his friend showed him the latest news that morning. “Could you believe this? The mayor was found naked in the alley between the library and the shoe shop. It even says that he was covered in some strange liquid.” “Is that even real?” “Some of the comments say that it was cum. Do you think that aliens…” He wasn’t even listening anymore, he was still worried about his dad. While driving to school, Thomas sighed, “Where are you, dad?” 9:20 AM - Local Gym Within the town’s local gym, heavy beastly grunts can be heard throughout the establishment. And at the center of it all, was a giant naked 600 lbs man, flexing his hairy muscles for every gym patron to touch and worship. A mix of cheers and moans is being emitted by every male bodybuilder as they worship the muscle beast. “YES, KEEP FEELING THESE HARD BEASTLY MUSCLES, DON’T STOP UNTIL I SAY SO!” Edward roared his command with such authority that it made the lustful moans of each worshipper loader. They kept praising his muscles while telling him that he is the biggest, the strongest, the most handsome, and the most hung giant in the world. There is a group of powerlifters who are groping him and dangling on his engorged biceps. A group that kept alternating between punching and licking his mountain-like pecs and his hard 8-pack abs. Bodybuilders worshiped the most muscular twin pillars of thighs and calves that they had ever seen and touched. Some even rubbed their faces on the beast’s meatiest globes of hairy ass, as well as licking the sweat from the crevice between. This lewd muscle worship has been going on for hours since Edward arrived earlier that morning. The beast cop simply entered the gym with only a pair of undersized gym shorts that stretched on his beast-like body. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing as the beast ripped off his garments in one swift motion and began using the gym’s various equipment to pump his muscles. People watched in awe as the muscled cop kept pushing himself, even breaking some of the equipment and benches with his immense strength. Edward’s usual morning exercises and jogging were no longer enough to give himself a pump, which is why he decided to take it to the next level. Every time he pushed his muscles to their limits, he just kept getting bigger. His muscles expanded and became denser with each lift. All the while his body produces more testosterone, making him bigger and more handsome. “FUCKING HELL, YOU BITCHES BETTER SAVOR EVERY MUSCLE CAUSE IT MAY BE THE LAST TIME YOU DO SO!” Just as Edward said that, a random powerlifter dove his hungry mouth right on the beast’s erect monster prick. With a fit of rage, the beast roared and swung his body, throwing off his worshippers to the ground. His lust-filled face was immediately replaced by anger, all the while staring down at the frightened man who touched the one muscle that he forbade anyone from worshipping. “YOU MISERABLE PIG! DID YOU SERIOUSLY FORGET THE ONE AND ONLY FUCKING RULE THAT I SAID?! THIS COCK IS NOT FOR ANY OF YOU!” The beast screamed in anger as he pointed down to his giant cock. Right after that, a familiar voice echoed through the crowd, “All right, what the hell is going on here?!” A police officer said as he squeezed through the commotion. Edward looked at the direction in which the voice came from, and he immediately recognized the officer’s face. It was his partner, Jason Ramirez. Jason was on leave the day before due to some injuries that he sustained while breaking up a bar fight. “Holy fuck! Thompson, is that you?! How did you get so… ?” Before Jason could finish his sentence, he caught a huge whiff of Edward’s alpha musk. The entire gym was filled with the muscle officer’s intoxicating sweaty musk that came from all the workout and muscle worship earlier. "Yeah, come closer, Jason... have a taste of this alpha." As Jason approaches the heaving giant hairy chest of the beast. As he got closer, the intensity of the musk became stronger. Sensing that his partner was about to give in to his new master, Edward Lifted his powerful hands behind his head, releasing more of his pheromones to everyone in the room. Jason smashed his face right on Edward’s left hairy armpit, savoring and licking the sweat from the hairy crevice. Soon, the hard pricks of the other members leaked a steady amount precum all over their pants, barely containing their excitement. Edward realized earlier that his body produced pheromones that take hold of every fiber of any person who inhales them, attracting them to him in the process. Similar to how the mayor seduced him so easily in the first place, despite Edward being straight. Now, he knows just how to use it in his plan. “All right then, all of you gather around me in a circle. That’s it, now bring those pathetic dicks of yours to your alpha. Now I want all of you to aim your cocks at me while jacking off. And when I permit you, shoot your loads all over your alpha beast. Got that?” Everyone began jerking off and aimed their little pricks at the flexing beast. Edward posed and flexed his hairy muscles into different bodybuilder poses. Sending everyone into a frenzy. Some are even crying from how painful their hard-ons have become from all the stimulation and the display of ultimate masculinity right before their eyes. Until… “NOW…” Every gym member, as well as Jason, began firing their cum loads all over the beast’s massive frame. Covering his muscled torso and legs with creamy cum. Some even landed on his face, neck, and beard. “THAT’S IT BOYS, KEEP IT COMING! PAINT YOUR GOD WITH YOUR PATHETIC LOADS!” Due to Edward’s insane control over his muscles and libido, he was able to keep his building eruption at bay. He wanted to keep edging himself until the right moment. That moment is the time when he claims his rightful mate. For now, the beast enjoyed his new position in the world, from a pathetic and powerless officer, into a hulking beast of pure power and masculinity. 3:04 PM - School grounds Thomas’ final class just ended and he was about to visit the police department to look for his dad, When suddenly, his eyes widened with shock as he received a voice memo from his dad. Putting on his earphones, Thomas listened to the memo. “Hey sport, sorry I didn’t respond to your texts and calls. Something urgent came up from work. It’s all settled now. Why don’t you come home now and spend some bonding time with me, yeah? And you don’t have to worry anymore, sport. I’ve got it all planned out.” To be continued… Notes: All images were created using sexy.ai

Chapter 2 Rosabella laid in the midst of a tangle of hard, muscled limbs and warm, sexy bodies. She could feel multiple large hands groping her and giving her pleasure, while a dozen legs the size of redwoods entangled with her own. Everywhere she looked, a set of lips worshiped her. A pair of plump ones were currently making their way up her long, toned and tan legs– they stopped momentarily to place kisses close to her warm, moist heat before descending again. Another had just finished making their way over her gorgeous collarbones, across her muscled shoulders and down over to her arm. The mindless being that was kissing her neck, lifted her arm and grunted. He wanted her to flex her own gorgeous bicep so that he could worship the peak. “Good pet,” she moaned as she felt his lips instantly lick the top of the muscle. Rosabella’s arm rewarded him with a gorgeous vein that rippled across it just underneath the flesh. Immediately, four of the other six beings grew jealous, shoving each other out of the way to try to gain more favor from their female master. Rosabella found it interesting that only Igor remained between her legs. He had definitely set himself apart from the rest and had quickly become her favorite. As he always did her bidding without question, she was sure the former bodybuilder would even be willing to die for her. He moved closer, lifting her gorgeous legs up before draping them over his broad shoulders. He let his tongue alternate between flicking her clit and nibbling on her inner thigh. Rosabella gasped. Was he toying with her? Igor nodded to the pet sitting behind her, encouraging him to continue rubbing her shoulders and breasts. As he resumed eating her pussy, the two quickly turned her into a writhing hot mess with their fingers and tongues. Rosabella’s head flung back against a pair of decently muscled pecs, she tried to get away but Igor held her hips in place. “Again,” he grunted. But the giant head had other ideas. “Rosabella, don’t you think it’s time?” A voice much louder and deep than it should be projected from across the room. It shouldn’t have been possible, but a head at least ten times larger than any normal human stared disapprovingly at Rosabella and her entourage. Wires connected to electrodes on the forehead traveled to large machines on the right side of the room. One was pumping oxygen rich blood while the others seemed to produce plasma and electricity all to keep the brain inside of the head alive. “I’ve told you, dear. There’s still one more trophy I’d like to collect.” Rosabella stood up from her group of men, retrieving her black silk robe and wrapping it around her body. As she stepped over Igor’s leg, she tied the belt around her waist. The head groaned then roared. “When you bring me back, I’ll be so fucking huge I won’t need a cock!” Rosabella strolled over towards him and placed a kiss on his big, plump lips. “You’ll definitely be huge,” she agreed as she glanced over towards her masterpiece. “But I still want a fucking monster cock.” She could feel him follow her with his gaze, knowing full well that the robe barely covered her backside. Her ass cheeks bounced as she danced and twirled towards the giant figure. It cast an even more giant shadow across the floor. She stopped in her tracks and gasped as she looked up. “Why do you always do that?” The head chuckled. “Why do you gasp every time you see me?” “Because I always forget how truly massive I’m making you.” The deep voice growled. “Tell me, baby girl. Describe Daddy’s body the way only you can.” Rosabella closed her eyes, then took a deep breath before looking up. “Your head will brush against the ceiling as you slowly start to rise. You’ll permanently have to hunch over, my love. You’ll never fit inside any normal room again. Mere mortal men will bow to your power. You were always meant to be this big–,” she paused, “this superior.” She walked around the monstrosity once, inspecting the tubes and wires. A disgusting green puss drained out of the arms that she had just reattached, while fresh blood pumped into each limb so they would immediately begin to heal. “You are as broad as a train car and nearly just as thick. Your chest, so big, hard and juicy, it could stop just about anything– bullets, a locomotive. You will cast a shadow with your pec shelf, two striated slabs of beef. And the nipples? Of course they point down. I know you wouldn’t have had it, any other way.” “God yes,” the voice groaned. “Please, baby, go on.” “You will strike fear into the hearts of many as they gaze upon your gargantuan body. Your quads are unfathomable, bigger and stronger than the oldest redwoods. These impenetrable muscles themselves are thicker than most men's waists. I imagine that no one will talk about Superman leaping over tall buildings anymore. Not when a god like you can leap over multiple states.” Rosabella paused again, this time to moan loudly as she let her hand graze over one of those monstrous thighs. The veins in them alone were bigger than her forearms. She let her fingers trail over the perfect whipple stitch that connected each leg to the hip. Upon careful inspection of the creature, you would have thought that she had trained for years as a surgeon. Aside from the grotesque mismatching of skin tones, Rosabella’s reattachment of each muscle group was nearly perfect. Under different circumstances, some might have even claimed her work was beautiful. She certainly did. Even with the ochre and other bodily fluids draining from the monster’s system. As she waltzed back over to the giant head, she grabbed his bearded face and looked deep into her lover’s eyes. “Of course you know I made sure to give you abs and buns of steel. Your traps nearly devour your telephone pole thick neck, and your shoulders look like they swallowed two of those thousand pound prize winning pumpkins.” The giant licked his lips. “But that’s not what you’re here to tell me about, is it?” He smiled. “No,” Rosabella simply replied. As she returned his smile with a devilish smirk of her own, she untied and dropped her robe before climbing onto the cold, metal table beside him. “Yes!” The head roared. “Wrap those legs around Daddy’s head and let me make you cum harder than ever before!” The gorgeous brunette positioned her pussy towards the man, letting her thighs drape around his gigantic head. He gave her slick cunt a long, tantalizing lick. His tongue alone was thicker and more powerful than any man’s cock. “Now tell Daddy about his new set of powerful arms,” he growled. “Your arms are what will define you, not as a god. You’re even bigger than that–” Rosabella gasped as the giant head bit down into her clit. “Fuck!” “Describe them,” his deep voice boomed. It was so loud and low it rumbled her insides. “Goddamnit!” She thrust against him, but this only caused his tongue to plunge deeper inside her. She could barely think. The very thought of those giant arms and Daddy’s massive tongue had her coming undone. “So– so– BIG!” She managed to breathe out. “And powerful!” “How big, Rosabella?” The giant pulled back his tongue and laughed as she tried to shove her pussy back against his face. She was so wet. So needy. He had been immobile for so long, had watched her receive pleasure from all these other men, he was enjoying this control. “How fucking powerful?” He resumed licking and sucking her clit as she opened her mouth to speak. “They’re bigger than my entire body,” she admitted. “And heavy. The bicep peak– when flexed–” Rosabella gripped his head with her tiny hands. Her legs wrapped even tighter around him. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ!” “More,” he demanded. His tongue drove in even deeper as she rose her hips up to meet him. She swore it was so goddamn thick and long that she could feel him brush against her most sensitive spot. She knew he could feel her inner walls starting to clamp down around his tongue. But he didn't pull back. Instead, he roared even louder as her whimpers grew more frantic. “Fucking tell me more little one! Tell me about my power!” As he thrust his thick, powerful tongue deeper into her pussy, he lifted her off the metal table. Rosabella screamed as she slid down even further. Realization struck. “Monster! Fuck!” Her body trembled as sweat and lightning shot across her skin. “You’ll be a fucking monster!” *** "Alright. Now just remember when he gets here, I'll do most of the talking." Rosabella smiled as she readjusted the tank top Igor was wearing over the fake muscle suit. If he had been walking down the street, you'd have never known his pecs had previously been missing. "Just get him excited quickly. I've watched a lot of his videos and he loves for his pecs and abs to be worshiped. The second he starts to get hard, jab him with this." Igor nodded as he took the fully loaded syringe from his master. "Anything." He struggled to say the word as he lifted his hand and placed it over his heart. "Anything for you." As he moved his hand from his chest to hers, a voice in the back of Rosabella’s mind questioned if she could trust him. With one look up at her mindless pet, his eyes proved to be devoid of anything but blind devotion. Not only that, but she was confident in her abilities to reprogram his brain. Rosabella snapped back to business at the sound of the doorbell. She pulled the hem of her skirt down over her muscled thighs and smoothed her hands over her crisp, white shirt. "Remember, inject him in the base of his cock," she instructed. Then out the bedroom door and down the stairs she went. "Hello there!" Rosabella gave her dazzling smile as she flung open the door. "Welcome!" She looked up and tried not to gulp as she offered her hand. The bodybuilder porn star seemed bigger in person. "Hello, Gorgeous," he smiled back as he stepped inside and threw her a wink. "You sure you don't want to film the video with me instead?" He smirked. Bella could feel her cheeks flush as the porn star looked her up and down. "I'm sure," she chuckled. "Besides, my client is very excited to be working with you. He's a young up and comer. Great body too." "That's what I like. Fresh meat." Toby Atlas reached down and grabbed the bulge in his sweatpants. If the man wasn't already slightly hard, then the rumors were true. His cock was borderline monstrous. Bella licked her lips and began making her way up the stairs. "Now, I talked with your agent about my client being a little gun shy–" "I'm aware," Toby smiled. "We're going to have a little fun first. Get acquainted." "Yes. That’s perfect!" Bella paused outside the bedroom door to look back at the famous porn star. She couldn’t believe he was actually here. There was already an impressive outline pulsing down the front of his pant leg. He would truly be the perfect addition. Her piece de resistance. Surely when this man’s picture aired alongside the other seven missing bodybuilders, many in the porn industry would mourn. Unfortunately for them, Bella just didn’t care. The world's loss was her gain. And with more determination than ever, nothing could stop her or get in her way. With her eye on the prize, Bella pushed open the bedroom door. "Just so you know, he doesn't talk much," she informed Toby as he brushed past her. "And whatever you do, don't touch his chest." “Wha–what?” Toby looked back over his shoulder with a confused look, but Bella ignored him. As she moved into the room, she strode over to the ring light and phone tripod over in the corner next to the bed. Toby didn’t even question the fact that she appeared to be putting on a clear, plastic trench coat. The second he looked at Igor, he immediately went into professional mode. Her pet stood there in all his glory, oiled up muscles and cock. He had stripped out of his pants when she went to go answer the door and he wasn't fucking around. He wasn't the biggest, but he was still a decent seven inches. And with those yummy muscles on display, he knew how to command Toby's attention. Bella pretended to start recording, especially when Toby wet his lips. “They weren’t kidding when they said you’d be the biggest muscle sub I’d ever taken,” he groaned. “You want to take this big cock, don’t you, Boy?” Igor looked over at Bella, then back towards the advancing porn star. As Toby pulled down his pants, Bella nodded in encouragement towards the big dick springing free and curving upwards. It was at least eleven inches. Igor hesitated. “Don’t fuck this up,” she mumbled under her breath. Her eyes were glued to the vial in his trembling hand. While an oblivious Toby muttered encouragements to Igor, Bella was silently pleading with her pet. With one final look at the magnificent, fully erect porn star cock, Igor met Bella’s gaze. Just as he lifted his hand with the syringe, Bella cried out. “NO!” She screamed, but it was too late. Igor had plunged the vial hard and deep into the base of his own hardening cock. “Use me!” He roared. “Me!” Toby stumbled before falling onto his ass as Igor’s cock started to pulse and lengthen. It immediately throbbed thicker and longer than both of their forearms with each beat of Igor’s heart. Red, angry veins swelled all down and around the shaft as the giant head dropped past his knees. Toby looked horrified as he tried to scramble away, but the cock kept lurching towards him. Thicker. Heavier. The head drooled with such a heavy stream of pre cum, the room was instantly filled with a salty musk. Suddenly the huge cock gave a gigantic shudder, growing even more out of control. It throbbed so hard it lifted up off the floor and then slammed back down on top of Toby. It was so fat around and even bigger than the porn star's body. The weight of it crushed him to the ground, pinning him in place. Igor looked over at Bella with a stupid grin. "Me big!" He pointed at himself and then laughed. His eyes grew wide though and the laughter abruptly stopped. As the color drained from his face, Bella grabbed the ax off the bed. Toby frantically started flailing his arms as he saw the light glint off the edge of the tool. "What, what are you going to do with that?" Igor slumped forward as most of the blood from his body had drained into his cock. Bella was unsure if he'd even survive at this point. The cock was bigger than she could have ever imagined. Her stupid, stupid pet. It wasn't supposed to go down like this. "You fucking crazy bitch!" Toby screamed. He tried to lift the cock off himself as the river of hot spunk still spewing out of the giant head was starting to drown him. "You're behind the disappearances, aren't you?" He spat as he turned his head to the side. The weight of the giant cock crushed against his chest was making it hard for him to breathe. He writhed underneath it, his face turning purple from the exertion. "When I get out of here, I'm turning you in!" “Well, shit,” Bella cursed as she playfully wielded the ax over her shoulder. "You still really think you're getting out of here alive?" Realization struck Toby as he looked up towards her. She gave him that same dazzling smile that she had greeted him with at the door. The gorgeous brunette didn't even flinch as she swung the ax over her shoulder. With a grunt the edge went clear through the porn star's windpipe. Bone crunched and blood spewed all over her as she hacked away. He tried to scream but the blood gurgled and clogged his airway. With one final blow, Bella struck the ax so hard that it bit into the wooden floor underneath him and stuck. "Don't worry. You'll be even more famous once they find your body." *Don't forget to vote, comment or follow! BIG shout out to @Rippedand @HardbodyVideofor encouraging me to keep going!*

Nick and Brandon are stepbrothers. The two brothers never really bonded with each other due to their differences in basically everything, not just their environment. Nick is the older brother, 24 years old, 6'3 tall, and 250 lbs. Brandon is the younger one, 18 years old, 5'4 tall, and 120 lbs. Nick always acts cockily around his younger brother. He would always bully and beat Brandon. Although Brandon is turned on by his brother’s size, he wishes he can be of equal match to him at the very least. One night, after working out, Nick saw himself at a mirror in his own room. He admired his pump. He flexed and worshipped his body and it gave him pleasure. He rubbed his pecs that were the size of melons. He moved his hands to his perfect washboard abs. He flexed both his arms which were bigger than grapefruits. He continued to touch himself. The feeling felt so good that he slipped his hand in his shorts and started caressing his cock, he started moaning and breathing heavily while his other hand touches his big body. Brandon heard his brother moan and sneakily peeked at the door. He secretly watched his brother pleasure himself and it turned him on. He continued to watch as Nick moaned louder and harder. He was getting close to cumming. Brandon could not help but feel aroused seeing his brother masturbating. He wanted to do something to his brother. He decided to take action. When Nick is finally asleep, Brandon went to his brother’s room and took off all Nick's clothes. He then proceeded to grab his brother’s body. He started with grabbing his brother's huge biceps and flexing them. He moved to his chest and grabbed his brother's washboard abs. Then he reached down and grabbed his small cock. It was about 4 inches long. He wrapped his fingers around it and stroked it. After a few minutes, he noticed Nick's tight asshole and noticed that he is sleeping heavily. He put his cock in his brother's ass and started thrusting into him. After a couple of minutes, he felt his brother wake up. He felt his brother’s massive cock start to get hard. Brandon started moaning and pumping harder in his brother. His orgasm started to build up inside him. When Brandon was nearing release and was moaning hard, Nick woke up. As Nick opened his eyes and saw what was happening, Brandon busted his load inside Nick. "Ughhh! Fuck yes!" Brandon shot several loads of cum deep in his brother's ass, not knowing Nick is now awake. Nick grunted as he felt his brother's hot jizz filling his hole. Brandon then pulled out his cock and shot another load of cum on Nick's face. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" Nick is enraged. He grabs Brandon and starts beating him. "You fucking bastard! I'm going to kill you!" Nick grabs his brother and pushes him against the wall. Nick begins beating his brother up until he feels a weird sensation inside him. His body seems to be reacting to his brother’s cum. Nick becomes dizzy for a split second and he looks back at Brandon. Nick then notices he is not looking down at Brandon as much as before. “What the fuck?" Nick utters in confusion. Nick sees his body has shrunken. He is still big but he is no longer the giant he was before. He is now about 5'10 and 200 lbs. Nick didn't realize his cock is hardening, but Brandon did. Busy contemplating what just happened, Nick didn't notice Brandon kneeling in front of him and started sucking his massive cock. "Uhh, oh fuck!" Nick moaned. Brandon had been dreaming about this moment for years. He always wanted to suck his brother's cock. He never got the chance to do so because Nick always humiliated him. Now that he finally gets the opportunity, he takes advantage of it. Brandon continues to suck his brother's cock while touching Nick's hot body. Nick was in heaven. The feeling of having Brandon's mouth around his cock is indescribable. He felt so much pleasure that his knees weakened and he lied down. Brandon sucked harder. “Oh god, Brandon, stop." Brandon kept sucking his brother's cock. He then reaches under Nick's body and gropes his huge balls. Brandon started sucking his brother's dick faster. He could tell Nick was close to cumming. He wanted to make sure he shoots a lot of sperm in his brother's mouth. Nick was getting closer to orgasm. "Shshhit! Ughh ohh ughhh"He moaned loudly and started shooting his load in Brandon's mouth. Brandon swallowed every drop of his brother's cum, while sucking harder. Change started to gradually happen to both of them. Nick's cock was shrinking and getting smaller. Brandon's body was growing bigger and stronger. He feels his pecs growing bigger and juicier as he squeezes Nick's shrinking ones. While still sucking hard on Nick's cock, he poses a double bicep. Brandon's cock grows longer and thicker as he feels Nick's cock shrink in his mouth. He feel his limbs lengthen as he grows taller. At this point, the 24 year old Nick is about 5'5 tall and 170 lbs, he still has the muscle mass of a model, but not big as before. The 18 year old Brandon, on the other hand, is now about 6'2 and 250 lbs. Nick's cock shrunk from 10 inches to 4 inches and the opposite happened to Brandon. Nick had begged him to stop, but Brandon didn't. "Can you still beat me up, little guy?!" Brandon exclaimed. Brandon swallows and he stood up, looking at both his and his brother's bodies. He comes to the mirror and worships himself, like he saw Nick do earlier. He cums on the mirror. "Fuck that's hot! I get why you like doing that now." Brandon says. Nick stares in disbelief. "But you know what would be hotter? If I were bigger. I see you have more size I can take, I want it." Brandon says, glancing back at Nick. Brandon starts to rub and suck on Nick's now smaller body. "No please, no more, I'm too small now, please!" Nick protests and attempts to fight back but Brandon is stronger. Brandon begins squeezing every muscle he can feel. Nick feels his limbs retracting as he gets shorter. His muscles start to condense in his smaller frame. He is now about 5'3 while Brandon grows into a towering 6'4. Brandon then proceeds to knead his now thicker muscles. As he squeezes his Nick's juicy chest, it slowly transfers onto him. He works his way around his other muscles, taking it all, leaving but a faint outline of abs. Brandon checks out his body now, he is now bigger than Nick ever was. As Brandon was distracted by his own body, Nick feels a build up of pleasure churning inside him and his cock started to harden from seeing how big Brandon got. Nick started stroking his 4 incher and he started moaning. Nick's moans got Brandon's attention which made him look at Nick. "I'm gonna need that as well to complete the look." Brandon said. As Nick was about to cum, Brandon placed his hand on Nick's cock. Nick's cock began to dwindle in size while Brandon's grew into a full 12 inches. "Ughh oh fuck uh" when Nick's cock had shrunken into a little nub, he finally cums on Brandon's hand. Brandon licks his palm and smears the cum on his face, making his face more chiseled. "That's better, thanks for the donation, little bro." Brandon tells his emaciated brother as he leaves the room.

Time for Chapter 3! I'm glad you guys are liking it so far! Chapter 3: Banks was biting his lip, squirming in his standing position. He couldn’t stop rubbing the outer ridge of his sac, bulging in his basketball shorts. Similar to a genie’s lamp, Banks was rubbing the sides as fast as he could. Kneading his bulge like bread dough, the man was lost in his own world. Attention shifted away from Chad’s massive monster cock and shifted to his step-son. “You’re leaking like a faucet boy! We’re all men here, take those things off. Your ol’ man here is already a step ahead of you,” shaking his large meat stick, the turgid flesh thwacked side to side making audible sounds against Chad’s thighs. Alessandro finally managed to tear his eyes away from the cock that had captured his attention for so long, using the palm of his hand to wipe the drool pouring from his mouth. He was salivating like a hungry beast. Indulging his eyes with the prospects of a potential meal later. From one piece of eye candy to another, the large bulge imprinted in Banks’ shorts caught Alessandro’s attention. Feeling a tad bit coy, the shorter man sauntered over to his buddy and pulled down his shorts. Like his step-father, Banks’ junk tumbled out with a bounce, a string of pre-cum bouncing with the rest of his junk, drooling downward toward the floor. Where his step-father had leverage in dick size, Banks’ had leverage in ball size. Both balls had swollen to an above average size, each orb nearing the size of baseballs. Alessandro slid both his hands onto the orbs, feeling the warm flesh. Vibrating against the palm of his hands, he could feel the movement and volume radiating from within. Banks’ cock, although average, was being engulfed in size by his much larger balls. It gave his average dick more of a curve as they rested on the inflated orbs. Alessandro couldn’t resist, leaning forward he gently placed the tips of his lips on the head of Banks’ cock, an act he was quite familiar with. Tasting the sweet yet salty creamy liquid drooling from the piss slit on Banks’ fat head, Alessandro was in heaven. Without even caring that Chad was in the room with them, Alessandro continued to rub the sac, getting his fill of the succulent liquid from his fuck buddies cock. Banks’ was rolling his eyes, he had never felt so much pleasure from his balls before. He knew he was a far shooter, but the volume he was producing now was so much more than he was used to. He’d done research before and knew some guys had a rare condition that caused them to cum a lot more than usual, maybe he was one of them now. His stream of pre-cum was gradually growing thicker in consistency, but Alessandro continued to lap it up like a dog. Chad couldn’t help watching his step-son’s friend suck off the continuously leaking cock. Chad’s own dick was starting to feel quite tingly, slight pulses of pleasure made its way through his shaft. He couldn’t resist groping his newfound length and girth, lightly thumbing it, as to not cum right away. This new experience was unlocking something within him, something he never thought he would ever do or see. Chad was starting to like it. He felt his own balls tingle and pulse with cum, but they had a game they had to get back to. “Alright you two wrap it up, you both promised me a FULL game night, and even though Alessandro is getting his full of fun here, this is not what I meant. Now get off my son’s dick and get to rolling that dice boy.”, Chad teased. Alessandro removed the head of Banks’ cock from his talented mouth, releasing a large pop noise as he did so. The stream of pre-cum had lightened in load, but a thin trail of it still remained. Banks wiped the sweat from his brow, helping his buddy up from his knees. “Thanks bro, I needed that. Time will only tell how long it takes until the pressure begins to grow unbearable again.”, Banks winced as he took a seat, his balls feeling sensitive as they made contact with the dining room chair. “Count on me to help you out anytime bro.”, Alessandro wiped his lips and flicked the remaining amount of cum on his fingers onto his tongue, giving his bro a wink before taking his seat at the table. Chad resumed his seat at the head of the table while Alessandro reached over for the dice. Giving it a few shakes, he shimmied it in his hands, giving both Banks and Chad a wink before giving it a toss in the box. Clacking metal sounds rang in the air as the dice spun around before landing with a clunk. Alessandro looked at the number and began to move his trailblazer until it landed on a square, hued with the color white. “Another new color, maybe I’ll get lucky like you Chad. Let’s see what this does,” the white card was separated from the other colors, and was on the right of the stack labeled in pink. To the left of the pink stack was another color none of the men had rolled yet, black. Placing his index finger onto the top of the stack, Alessandro drew the card forth and flicked it between his index and middle finger, reading it aloud, “A boon from the Aeon of Acquiescence, Subservoros, grants you an attitude change of 3. What does that mean?” Each man took a turn looking at each other, giving one another that look and just shrugging. An attitude change was definitely a new mechanic. First, augments placed upon the body, and apparently now attitude, or perhaps mentality? None of the men really knew what that meant in entirety. Alessandro however felt a slight dizziness in his head before reaching his hand out to Chad, holding onto his forearm. Giving it a few strokes. He let out a whimper as he admired the muscle. Chad glanced over giving him the look to continue. Banks did not waste any time with his turn, grabbing the dice from where Alessandro left off, he could clearly see he was in the lead and wanted to keep it that way. So far, all his augments were not too bad, but who knows what could come next. Sliding the dice across the board with force, it ended up rising up in the air before landing dead smack in the center of the board. A high roll of 4 once again. Banks moved his trailblazer past Alessandro and continued to leave his step-dad in the dust. Landing on a familiar color, brown, Banks shrugged. This wasn’t going to be too bad. Pulling a card blessed by the Aeon of Trichology, the value was a small 1. Light stubble grazed the face of Banks further and some light wispy chest hair began to form on his newly defined pecs. Having kept his body smooth for so long in order to maintain great swimming times, Banks had not really seen how much body hair he had been able to grow. He could also feel some slight itchiness coming from his armpits. Lifting up his left arm, he gave the pit a few scratches, seeing that the hair he kept shaved there was already coming back. He was nowhere near as hairy as his step-father or his friend, but he welcomed this addition. It made his large muscles seem more adult-like rather than the boyish teen muscles he had displayed at his swim meets. Chad stood up to reach for the dice when the men heard a loud thwack come from underneath the table. They all looked over at Chad and let out a laugh as the man’s hard wood had created quite the sound when trying to reach over for the dice. He still managed to keep his hard on. Who could blame the man? To no one’s surprise, Chad was going to remain eating both Banks’ and Alessandro’s dust. Another low roll. He sighed but didn’t really care. Moving forth by a measly amount, he landed on a new color like Alessandro. Compared to the white space that Alessandro had found his trailblazer on, Chad had found his trailblazer to land on a pink space. Plucking up a pink card from the three piles separated from the other colors, he read aloud, “A boon from the Aeon of the Impromptu, Randromeda. Enjoy your boon, whatever it may be.” “So like, does that mean you get a random boon from any of the previous ones we all pulled from or?”,Banks inquired about the older man. “Beats me. This is the first time any of us have pulled a pink card. Guess we’ll just…uh..”, Chad’s voice trailed off. He began to slouch downward, holding his stomach. Something was happening, something off putting. Gravitating one of his hands toward his chest, he let out a couple ragged breaths. “Shit it feels like someone just punched my gut with all they got!” As one hand remained on his stomach and the other on his chest, both Alessandro and Banks noticed a slight change to the maroon shirt that Chad was wearing. Whereas his nipples were sort of prominent before and gave a sexy look, they were making a much larger imprint that normal. As they continued to stare, both nipples on the man's pecs looked like they began to swell and push the fabric of the shirt forward. “What, what’s happening?!”Chad said, alarmed, moving his hands to take a look down at his chest. His eyes darted at his swollen hard nipples pushing against the shirt. Lightly pressing his thumb against his right nipple he shuddered, feeling an erotic shock get sent down his body like a nerve. The collar of the shirt began to rise away from the man's chest as the three men watched what was happening. Chad watched in horror as his chest was beginning to inflate bigger. Holding on for dear life, the collar of his shirt was beginning to receive a few tears. Chest hair began to protrude upward as the man’s chest inflated further, nipples pushing harder against the fabric. Chad let out a moan as his newly sensitive nipples pushed further against the imprisoning cloth. “They’re..they’re growing! My tits are growing!”, the man yelled as the man’s chest began to push and swell even further. With all the pressure of growth, the collar of his shirt ripped, and was beginning to shred the side of shirt further. Even the straps that rested on his shoulders were having difficulty holding on due to the splitting of cloth. With each breath he took, he felt his newly grown tits begin to inflate further. Pushing and swelling, pushing and swelling, swirls of dark chest hair still covering the surfaces. His pink aerola’s puffed up in size as his pecs continued to outgrow the shirt. His cleavage could be viewed down the middle while the side of his tits were being constricted by whatever power was left in the cloth. Both nipples, so hard, ready to pierce through the fabric. With another surge of growth, Chad’s growing tits broke through the top of his shirt entirely, bouncing and bobbing in its newfound size. Rising closer toward his chin and growing outward toward the board game, his chest had grown outward by ten inches, easily. His chest, which was once firm, still maintained its musculature, but had a more roundish and bloated shape to them now. Both of his newly enlarged nipples looked to have grown in size like the rest of his bloated cleavage, rounded like bottle caps and easily two inches long. They flapped outward as his chest continued to finish its final surges in growth. At long last, the growth had stopped. Sweat dripped down the curling of hair on the studs newly grown muscle tits. All three men looked in shock at what just happened to Chad. Without hesitation, Chad reached forward planting his large hands underneath his grandiose tits. They couldn’t even hold the massive bloated flesh. The sheen of sweat still present as he reached for his nipples, giving them a squeeze before letting out a loud growlish moan. “I..I have tits!”Chad boomed. He couldn’t stop squeezing them. They protrude so far from his body, he looked like he was photoshopped and morphed. He continued to squeeze the new bouncing flesh and couldn’t help being giddy. Sensitive tissue lined his newly developed muscle tits, a newly addictive feeling. He couldn’t stop groping them. “Boys look at these fat tits this old man got! Bet you’ve never seen a man or woman with tits this big eh?”, he shook them as best he could with his hands, nowhere near encompassing the growth. Alessandro and Banks thought that before they didn’t have anything to say when the first augmentations hit. Now though, seeing the dilf of a man grow giant muscle tits that rivaled the size of the largest breasted anime women you could ever imagine however? Unreal. “What. The. FUCK?”, both Alessandro and Banks yelled out in unison as Chad continued to ignore them, feeling the new hefty weight of his tits. Both men jumped out of their seats and reached for a handful of the bouncing flesh, Chad let out a few squeals and moans at the boys tugged at his newly sensitive tits, nipples continuing to flap in the air. Chad couldn’t lie though, feeling both men’s hands running through his big muscle tits chest hair was heavenly, even the few little pinches they gave his big nipples. “Alright alright stop it stop it! I can’t handle it anymore. Leave these puppies alone, you animals. Give a man some privacy won’t ya?”Chad yelled. Both Alessandro and Banks snapped out of their stupor and returned to their seats, ogling the man's tasty tits. Already reading each other's minds, they both wanted a taste of Chad’s tits. Both tits laid firmly on the head of the table where Chad was seated, he continued to squeeze the sides of them, still in shock at his new bust. Half paying attention Chad motioned to Banks to continue his roll. Banks, still ogling his dads new tits, threw the dice without even looking. He was still too stunned to think. Shaking his head, he moved his gaze toward the dice. He needed to focus. Someone has to win this game after all, right? Is there even a point? Moving his trailblazer forward, he landed on an indigo space. That turned his attention away from his step-dad. If Banks was right, this must be one of the color spacings that Alessandro landed on. What was it again though? Too many colors. All Banks knew is that he wanted either the orange or the yellow cards. Damn Chad. Reaching over toward the stacks, he pulled an indigo slated card, “The Aeon of Posterior, Gluteha, grants you a boon with a value of 4. Oh great.”, Banks turned his head behind him. His already nicely shaped butt from all the years of swimming began to grow a bit heftier and meatier. It was a weird sensation, like someone had stuck a little needle in each cheek and was injecting air. As both mounds began to inflate, he could feel his skin stretching. His head began to rise in his seat as his ass gave him a bit more cushion. “How do you like it brother? Enjoying a bit more junk in the trunk? Now I get something to play with now.”, Alessandro teased. Banks stuck his tongue out at his buddy. He was used to Alessandro having the bigger ass between the two, but now that he had a fully grown verified bubble butt, he was curious how it would feel getting fucked now. Maybe he could take a bigger dick than he was used to. He felt a shiver as his hole let out a little throb and pulse just at the thought. Shifting his thoughts, he went back to how talented Alessandro’s tongue was when sucking off his cock and sac. What would that tongue feel like pressing against his hole, Banks wondered. They’d have to set time aside later and do that. Alessandro reached for the dice, trying to sneak a glance at his buddies' newly grown bubble. Banks recently was teasing him about his added junk in the trunk, why shouldn’t he tease him back. Taking his turn to roll the dice, Alessandro hoped for a good augment, or at least one he wouldn’t mind. After seeing the pink card change Chad’s already decently large pecs into giant fleshy muscle tits, he could only imagine what random occurrence could possibly be laid about on his body. Going by the pink Aeon’s name, definitely a random change to the person who pulled the card. Including things that aren’t even a possibility from the others. Alessandro shuddered at the thought of such creepy open-ended possibilities. He hoped not to pull a pink card. Marching forth, Alessandro moved his trailblazer who continued to remain in second place amongst the three men. Planting its feet onto the board like a man on the moon, the trailblazer halted on an orange space. Alessandro couldn’t help but let out a cheer. If this is the card he remembered it to be, he just hit the jackpot! Eagerly, Alessandro reached for an orange card. In the corner of his eye, he could see Banks feign a look of jealousy. Perhaps he was hoping to land on an orange space. Poor sucker, Alessandro giggled,”The Aeon of Spongiosum, Priapi, grants you a boon of 7.”Alessandro waited for the change to take place. Without a moment’s hesitation, he could feel a new sensation of what felt like his cock unreeling a little bit more out of his body. He let out a smirk, taking a peek at his increased cock size and girth. Definitely nowhere near the monster cock Chad was currently in possession of, but definitely a sizeable boyfriend type of dick, unlike Chad’s vacation dick. Doing the math, it seemed like Alessandro’s original length of seven inches hard should be around seven and a half inches now, maybe nearing eight. He figured the number value for the cock growing card may have been a percentage? It was difficult to figure out. He couldn’t really remember how much the boon granted to Chad was, but he had a larger value granting him at least a whole extra inch erect than what he once possessed. Granted, this was a magical board game, who the fuck really cares about math. Math and logic are out the window right now. Alessandro was still glad he had a bigger dick than his buddy Banks though. Banks still sat at his original six inches. “Are you done playing with your tits yet dad? If you haven’t noticed, it’s your turn already.”, Banks looked annoyed. His father had been the one who wanted to play this game and just a round ago was demanding everyone pay attention. All of a sudden he grows a pair of tits and that demand is out the window. Typical. “Haha sorry boys, daddy is just trying to get used to his new titties. It’s a new sensation ya know. What did you two boys get? I admit I wasn’t really paying attention.” “I received a slight increase to my cock, but nowhere as large as yourself sir. Banks here had his bubble butt become a dump trunk like mine.”, Alessandro answered. “Oh I see. Good changes then, Now let’s see here, what am I going to roll next?”Chad tried to look down toward the dice but was having trouble seeing over his engorged tits. The newfound length of his nipples wasn’t helping his line of sight either. He looked around, seeing that the dice was near Alessandro. Leaning forward, he reached down, his new big muscle tits shaking as he did. The left tit smacked Alessandro in the face, the warm soft flesh made Alessandro’s cock throb. Alessandro couldn’t resist but gave it a grope. Chad let out a laugh, “Sorry there boy, guess I still am not used to my new size.” Grabbing the dice and letting Alessandro finish copping a feel, Chad sat back in his seat, his tits causing a thump on the table as they found their place once again supported. Banks couldn’t help but imagine that the man was going to need a bra to keep him from any future back pain. Maybe he’d have to do some father son bra shopping which Banks never thought he’d ever have to do in his life, but there is a first for everything I suppose. Just a slight movement of Chad shaking the dice caused his tits to bounce and wobble about freely. If any kids were present, a parent would have definitely covered their eyes. Still though, the giant hairy muscle titties were quite the eye candy. “Finally, a higher roll! Looks like all those low rolls finally paid off. Let’s see here…”, Chad trailed off trying to find his trailblazer without knocking any of the card stacks or pieces over. He moved his figure forward based on the amount rolled on the prism. “I think I had this space before? Here we go yellow. The Aeon of Gigantism, Giantilli grants you a lucky boon of 14.” Here we go. Choking down a gulp both Alessandro and Banks gave each other a look. They knew what was coming. Both slowly stood up from their seats and slowly back stepped toward the other end of the table. Chad just looked at them confused, until he felt that familiar feeling he had once before. “Oh, that’s why you both are..”, Chad groaned. Reached for his head, a sharp spike of pain hit him. He began to pant, holding onto the table for support. His large hand began to extend and grow larger on the table. Chad’s legs wobbled a bit as he tried to regain his balance and support. His thigh muscles began to grow in proportion to the rest of his body. Much like the first time, this change was just as swift. Chad’s torso began to lengthen with his arms, his giant tits began to inflate slightly larger to keep up in proportion. As the man continued to grow upward toward the ceiling, he continued to let out groans, his eyes remained closed. His body began to expand, shoulders broadening, his monster cock still continuously throbbing as it came more into view as the man continued to extend upward in height. Finally mustering up enough will power, Chad managed to open his eyes while his head continued to maintain its sharp pain. He looked down and down at both Banks and Alessandro. He could feel himself getting bigger everywhere. He noticed his muscles and slight little gut grow in proportion to his newly growing size. Turning around, he could see his glutes swelling in size as well. Whatever cloth tatters that stayed on his torso had completely ripped off by now. The goliath of a man was completely nude. Chad could feel his feet sliding across the floor of the dining room in which he was standing. He had decently large feet, a size twelve if you will, but these babies were no longer that previous size. If he had to estimate, they had to be nearing a size fifteen or sixteen. He couldn’t really tell as he was still trying to figure out a system that worked best in looking over his monster tits. In the perspective of Banks and Alessandro, the giant dilf continued to stretch and swell with muscle and height. His head was already very close to the ceiling. With a thud, the top of Chad’s height hit the ceiling. “Ouch, fucker!”, Chad yelled, “Didn’t mean to yell there, sorry boys.” What once plagued his head with sharp pain had vanished, now just a slight bruising feeling remained where he had thunk his head on the ceiling. Chad was rubbing the spot that he had hit. He took an eyeful of his surroundings, definitely the same dining room he’d been eating in for years, but from a whole new vantage point. Deviously smirking, he looked down at both Banks and Alessandro. Both men’s feet were as solid as stone, unable to move. Looking up at the giant man. “Looks like daddy here isn’t quite done growing! Look how tiny you both are compared to me now.”, Chad began to move toward the two boys, heavy footfalls smacking against the floor, his head still lightly touching the ceiling. As he approached the two boys, he shifted his stance, hand on his hips, tits jutting out. The size difference between the three men was impeccable. “So boys, I would ask you to measure how tall I am but because I hit the ceiling, I’m pretty sure I already know.” Slack jawed and glassy eyed, both boys couldn’t muster up a word at the god-like man standing in front of them. “Well, any guesses?”,Chad continued to keep his hands on his hips before giving both boys a noogie. “Alright I’ll spill the beans then, looks like your old man is seven feet tall haha. Don’t be afraid. Banks, I’m still your step-dad and Alessandro I’m still Chad. I’m just a bit bigger is all.” “You’re so huge sir!”Alessandro choked. He was the first of the two to walk up to the newly grown giant. His head was near the center of the taller man’s little gut, but underneath the big drooping tits. “Don’t be afraid to touch boys, I’m all natural and still me. That goes for you too Banks.”, Chad winked. Banks stepped forward alongside his friend, feeling the expanse of his step-dad’s body. Chad had always been a big man, a loving and caring man, and a father figure for Banks. He had always fought ferociously to protect Banks from trouble and heartbreak. Many people were intimidated by the man before at his original 6’2 height, but now….he was a force to be reckoned with. His protective father was now an alpha daddy. Leaning down onto his knees, he came up toward eye level with the two guys, tits bulging forward and cock throbbing outward. “So boys, do you guys want a little intermission before we continue or should we hop back to it?”

Julian had always been the envy of his classmates with his toned physique and chiseled abs. He was proud of the countless hours he spent in the gym perfecting his body. Julian has brown eyes, thick eyebrows, dark curly hair, and he's tall at 6'1. Julian was feeling confident as he walked into his physics class on the first day of the semester. He had been working extra hard all summer to get his body in top shape, and he was excited to show off his impressive muscles. As he took a seat in the front row, he noticed a new student sitting a few rows back. "Hey there" James said to Julian, taking him by surprise. "Hi, you must be James, nice to meet you!" Julian replied, looking down at his shoulder level. "You're really quite the big guy huh?" James said as he notices and touches Julian's arms, while Julian blushed and laughed. James is an innocent looking student with blue eyes, messy brown hair, he smaller than Julian, standing at only 5'6, he looked skinny. They seem to be getting along in their first interaction, however, Julian has a weird feeling towards him that he can't seem to shake off. Over the next few weeks, Julian noticed that something strange was happening. Every time he saw James, he felt like he was losing muscle mass. At first, he didn't think much of it, but as the weeks went by, he started to feel weaker and smaller. He could see his once impressive washboard abs disappearing, and his biceps were no longer as defined as they used to be. Julian tried to convince himself that he was imagining things, but every time he looked at James, he felt like he was shrinking. Every day, Julian couldn't help but notice that James seemed to be getting more muscular while he was getting smaller. Julian tried to ignore it, he would often bounce his pecs and flex his biceps, telling himself that he was still in good shape. But every time he saw James, he couldn't help but feel a sense of envy. From that moment on, Julian became obsessed with James' muscles. "What's your secret" he thinks as he would watch him in class and at the gym, admiring his strength and power. But the more he watched, the more he realized that he was losing his own strength and power. He started to avoid James as much as possible, but even when they weren't in the same room, Julian could feel his muscles getting smaller. One day, Julian couldn't take it anymore. He confronted James after class and accused him of stealing his muscles. "What? Is this a joke? Hahaha!" James just laughed and flexed his biceps, which looked bigger and more defined than ever. "I just discovered the fun in working out. Do you wanna come with me to the gym?" James approached Julian and asked him if he wanted to work out together. "Su-sure thing, I guess" Julian nervously accepted the offer, hoping that he could finally get his strength back. As they started lifting weights, Julian couldn't help but admire James' impressive muscles. James was lifting heavier weights than Julian, and his biceps were bulging with every rep. "Ugh yeah! I can feel the pump!" Julian bounced his pecs and flexed his muscles in front of James, he was convinced that he was still the biggest and strongest guy in the room. But as James flexed his own muscles, Julian couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy and jealousy. James' muscles were bigger and more defined than ever before, and Julian couldn't help but feel like he was shrinking in comparison. "Wow, ughhn" Julian whimpered as he felt a surge of excitement at the sight of James' muscles. He couldn't resist touching them. He whimpered in ecstasy as he touched James' bigger body and muscles, feeling the power and strength that he had lost prior. "Your body is one of the hottest I've seen" James admired Julian's body and touched it, Julian started to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe he wasn't as small as he thought he was. Maybe he still had some muscle left in him. As James touched Julian's now smaller body, he couldn't help but admire the way it looked in his hands. He could feel every crevice and contour of Julian's muscles, even though they were much smaller than before. "I feel so hot" Julian flexed as James continued to admire him, feeling good about himself for the first time in weeks. For a moment, Julian felt like he was still bigger than James. He flexed every muscle he had left, trying to prove to himself that he still had some strength and power left in him. But as he flexed, he could feel his remaining muscles and height being stolen away. "What's happening to me- ughhh!" Julian began to panic as he watched his once-impressive muscles shrink before his very eyes. His biceps were no longer bulging, his abs were no longer defined, and his chest was no longer juicy. "Ugh please no, stop, ughh" He whimpered louder and louder as James rubbed his body, stealing away what little strength he had left. Finally, Julian had reached orgasm and cums all his size away. Julian felt ecstatic and defeated all at the same time, unable to resist the power of James' muscles. His tall body fell weak on James's arms. James continued to feel Julian's "muscles," enjoying the sensation of power and strength that he was able to extract from them. He admired Julian's body, taking in every inch of it, even though it was much smaller than before. "Ugh fuck this is so hot" James couldn't help but let out a whimper of desire. He was addicted to the feeling of power and strength that he got from Julian's body, and he couldn't resist the temptation to take even more. Julian whimpered as James touched him, feeling a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. He knew that he was no longer the big, strong bodybuilder that he used to be, but he couldn't resist the temptation to flex his remaining muscles for James. James noticed Julian's cock hardening so he took it out of Julian's shorts. Julian lets out a moan, overwhelmed with the pleasure he's feeling. James puts Julian's 7 inch cock in his mouth, giving him the blowjob of his life. "Ugh James please, I'm gonna cum" Julian mutters but James goes faster. Julian moans as he is overwhelmed until he finally cums. James made sure to swallow everything Julian releases. As he does, Julian's body contracts, his limbs shortening. The opposite happens to James as he seemingly grows taller. James stands up and props Julian against a wall, Julian was now the shorter of the two, facing James's chest. James faces Julian to the opposite direction and inserts his 4 inch cock into Julian's ass. He starts pounding Julian hard while rubbing Julian's 7 incher. "I'm gonna have to take this too" James whispers to Julian's ear as he jacks off Julian's member. They moan and moan until they are almost at climax. "Please, just let me cum" Julian begs. "Not until I do!" James objects. As James thrusts harder and harder, he feels his dick growing while Julian's shrinks. Finally, James reaches orgasm and cums into Julian's hole. He pulls out and Julian falls on the ground, but James is to busy admiring his new 8 incher to notice. All that Julian was able to do was whimper as his shrunken cock uncontrollably cums and he watches James walk away. "Thanks for the time... and the bonuses. See you in class, I guess" James says as he puts on Julian's clothes which are now a little tight on him and leaves. In the end, Julian was left with nothing. He was a shell of his former self, a once-powerful heartthrob of an athlete reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. James, on the other hand, was bigger and stronger than ever before, his muscles bulging with power and strength. Julian knew that he had lost the battle for strength and power. But even as he felt defeated, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pleasure and desire at the thought of James' huge, powerful muscles.

Commissioned from SaltyCat56 on FurAffinity It was his first 10k Story and first Commission https://www.furaffinity.net/user/saltycat56/ A thanky to @Kymuscleboy for helping with the Tags . All characters are +18 Kyle eagerly walked down to the science lab, pushing aside any nerds and bitches that got in his way. Normally he'd be down in the cafeteria shaking people down of any food with protein in it, but he had skipped lunch in order to talk a bunch of nerds about making a machine that could make his brains match his brawn, something he needed in order to pass his classes and not be held back a year. He'd threatened the nerds a week ago that he would steal their girlfriends if they didn't have the machine ready by Monday lunch, assuming any of them could get girlfriends in the first place. When he reached the science lab, he barged in with barely any effort. The pathetic nerds jumped at his presence, working on something with two chambers big enough to put groups of people in. Kyle walked up to the machine, using his tail like a whip to firmly smack the ass of a nerd burying their head into a book. Their fault for having their back turned to their better. He eyed up the machine, unsure of what he was looking at. He used his tail again, this time wrapping it around a frail-looking nerd like a lasso and pulling him closer, pressing him to his bulky, muscled body. To the poor nerd it probably felt like he was being pushed up against a wall. "Hey Nerd, the fuck am I looking at?" Kyle asked while looking down at him, the nerd in question at eye level with his nipples. He stammered before finally answering the question. "Ba-basically, it's, uh, a conversion chamber. One steps into the intelligence donor chamber and the person in the intelligence recipient will inherit the intelligence being donated." The nerd squeaked out, surprisingly not speaking in annoying science lingo. "Al-fuckin-right then! Who's volunteering to help me pass my college level math class?" Kyle shouted eagerly. He started to get annoyed though when no nerds volunteered and the one he pulled close to him spoke up. "W-well, actually, we think their might be some negative neuropsychological ramifications for the donor, not to mention unwanted-" was all the nerd got out before being given a wedgie by Kyle, yelping as he dangled a solid foot off the ground before being swung in the direction of one of the chambers. "That right there's the donor chamber, right?" Kyle asked demandingly. The nerd nodded. "Y-yes Kyle!" The wedgie got more intense. "I think ya meant to say 'yes, sir', bitch boy." Kyle corrected the pathetic nerd. "Y-yes, s-sir!" The nerd desperately yelled out before being shoved into the donor chamber. The nerd desperately adjusted his junk as Kyle pulled another nerd up to the machine. "Run the machine and no funny shit or I'm beating down all of y'all!" Kyle demanded as he stepped into the other chamber. The other nerd complied as he started up the machine. The doors locked by the time the first nerd managed to readjust himself and tried to get out. He pounded on the chamber door, pleading to be let out as the machine started to work on the intelligence transfer. The nerd's pleading and pounding grew quieter until nothing. After about a minute, the machine rang and the doors unlocked. Kyle stepped out of his chamber a bit bigger than he used to but he hadn't seemed to have noticed. He looked around at the other five nerds in the room, all of them looking at him. "Alright, someone get me a trigonometry book, that shit was the worst for me." He ordered before noticing that he was a bit taller than before, by about half an inch. Another nerd handed Kyle a trigonometry book and he started to skim through it. Some concepts that were hard for him to process before were now relatively quick and simple for him to understand. Kyle chuckled in delight as he started to think of what he could do with this machine. He opened up the donor chamber to see the nerd he shoved in now being more meek than he was before. The nerd crawled out as if he had neither the muscle nor the brain capacity to walk, collapsing face-first onto Kyle's sneaker. Kyle looked down at the emaciated weakling as the once nerd looked up and had a look in his eye akin to a dog acknowledging its owner before it started licking at Kyle's sneaker. "The hell happened to him?" Kyle asked, pointing down to the pathetic husk at his feet, noticing he was short a nerd but didn't say anything about it. "Well, it had to do with the negative neuropsychological side effects he was talking about earlier." A nerd started explaining. "More or less, it completely drained him of the intelligence necessary for many basic functions. I think it's safe to say he's incapable of much speech or critical thinking. However, this seems to have impacted physicality as well. It ended up not just donating intelligence but also muscle mass. If you haven't already noticed, you came out just slightly bigger than when you came in." By the time the nerd pointed that out, the one missing nerd returned with a full body mirror, probably getting it from the theater class. As the other nerd put the full body mirror in front of him, he noticed his body was a bit bulkier. Probably about 5 pounds of muscle mass had been added to his already muscular body. He couldn't help but flex and groan in satisfaction with the results. Especially looking down to see the husk of his donor still practically worshiping his feet. But he clearly wasn't done just yet. Hegrabbed the nerd who explained the situation to him, pulling him into a headlock. "So what do you think would happen if I sapped all of y'all of everything? Would I be able to improve the machine?" Kyle asked sadistically, looking down at the nerd with a wicked smirk. He pathetically tried to squirm free to no avail, Kyle’s bicep squeezing down on his neck as he started rounding up all the other ones before they could even think of leaving. The nerd would just struggle even harder before being shoved into the donor chamber along with all the other nerds, Kyle forcing the door shut on them. "Only one way to find out then, would be my guess." Kyle said nonchalantly as the nerds pounded on the door while letting out pathetic pleas. Kyle proceeded to pick the nerd husk off the ground, away from his feet, and got the former nerd to sit in the teacher's chair which he pulled in front of the control console. "Start the machine when I go into the other chamber, understand?" Kyle instructed the husk very slowly, unsure admittedly of its capacity to understand, let alone its ability to turn on the machine. The husk nodded in response, looking up at Kyle. "Yes master." The husk responded slowly and almost absent-mindedly. Hearing the husk refer to him like that was a bit of a turn on as he stepped into the other chamber, feeling a bit more confident about his decision. As the door closed behind Kyle, the machine started up once again. This time Kyle ended up feeling a massive amount of pressure while in the chamber. Enough to make it painful but only for a short while. It actually got him a bit hard after a few seconds. When the machine rang once again, Kyle had to squeeze his way out. His muscles were definitely bulking up, a few veins now visible on his biceps. When he went to observe himself in the full body mirror, not only had his body almost outgrown all of his clothes, all of it barely able to contain his massive body to the point to where just flexing along could probably rip the clothes off, but his noggin also grew, not close to how his body grew but enough to be noticeable, especially a small, visible vein on the left side of his forehead. He opened up the donor chamber to see all the other former nerds pathetically fumble out of the chamber, all of them mindlessly clamoring around Kyle to worship him, kissing his sneakers and hugging onto his muscular legs, one of them getting a visible hard on as he kissed the tip of Kyle's sneaker. He chuckled before snapping his fingers twice, making them all stop and sit like dogs, all of them looking up at Kyle. He then flexed his massive body, the clothes around him ripping as exposing some of his body, veins forming on his biceps and pecs, bouncing them to entice the husks beneath him, all of their puny dicks twitching as they looked on in awe of their alpha. "You puny bitches like what you see?" Kyle asked his new slaves teasingly, fully knowing what their answer would be but wanted to hear it anyway. They all nodded, some drooling, one letting out a pathetically horny whimper. Of course they loved it, it was in their nature as dull-brained squirms to admire their better. He slowly stripped down to his jock to entice his new slaves to make them more susceptible to his will. Small visible veins were scattered throughout his muscular body. "You pathetic horn dogs want your master bigger and smarter? Go get more people for me to drain while I work on improving this little toy you dumbasses made. Y’all couldn’t even get this thing to maximum efficiency, but I bet I can now. Go." Kyle ordered all the husks cowering beneath his towering body, which was only emphasized when compared to their small, puny frames, so thin you could practically see their skeletal structure. They nodded as they scrambled up to their feet and started shambling out of the classroom. Kyle playfully tail whipped the last husk to leave before grabbing some of the nearby tools and getting to work on improving the haphazardly put together chamber, the task now easy for him to manage. A good few minutes passed by before some of the husks came back with some of their friends, just in time for Kyle to expand both the donor chamber and the recipient chamber. He’d also remade the recipient chamber out of sturdier metal so they could handle potential overgrowth from Kyle. He has also allied the interior of both chambers with multiple full body mirrors. Not only so he can watch himself grow and bulk up but also his victims could watch all their muscle mass be drained from them, hopefully learning their fate as they become more dull-brained husk slaves, now only living to serve their better. He had also created a remote activator so he could activate the machine from inside the recipient chamber. Kyle lassoed the soon to be victims, a group of 7, with his tail and wrangled them into the donor chamber. He slammed the donor chamber door shut, chuckling at the pathetic resistance of the people brought in. The best part of creating the remote activator was that Kyle could simply activate the machine himself and didn't have to rely on a husk to activate it and risk something going wrong. He activated the machine and felt a jolt of painful pleasure surging through his body. Now he also had the opportunity to see the progress in the mirrors. His muscles rapidly throbbing and writhing under his skin. Even his forehead started to do this as well, though it was harder to notice. Kyle groaned pleasurably as he watched his body expand once more. As the jolt started to subside, his muscles started to settle down but still ended up bigger than before, more veins visible on his body and the ones from before became more prominent, his biceps and thighs being most veiny. Another vein appeared on his forehead, this time on the right side. More husks to serve and worship Kyle, crawling out of the chamber, crawling to his feet. "More, bitches!" Kyle shouted demandingly before the new husks could even begin worshiping his body. He got tired of how long it took for them to scramble to their feet so he helped them up without intending to. By some force, the husks got quickly elevated to their feet. It took Kyle only a second to realize he did it with his mind. He chuckled as he toyed with one for a bit while the rest of the husks left to get more puny humans for the practical living God that Kyle was becoming. He used his telekinetic abilities to wiggle the meek husk around a bit before pulling the puny thing into the cleavage of his massive pecs. Chuckling as the pathetic husk groaned as he got pressed as much against Kyle as was possible. Effortlessly flexing his pecs to make it bounce against the husk, pushing its head further into his cleavage much to the husk's pleasure. Feeling a rush of pleasure too, the semi-hard on making the jockstrap make an audible rip, he decided to keep the husk around a bit while waiting for the rest to come back. "Worship your God's pecs, bitch!" Kyle demanded of the now horny husk, not that its puny dick was noticeable any more. The husk moaned as it caressed Kyle's pecs while he groaned and flexed more, admiring all the visible veins and muscle mass he accumulated. The pleasure amplified more as the husk wisely decided to start licking and sucking on his pecs, hitting Kyle's magic spot that completely gave him a hard on. "Oh yeah, just like that, slave bitch!" Kyle shouted eagerly as he pinned the husk to the wall with his towering body, now starting up a sweat from being in heat, his dick throbbing in between the husks legs, making it more clear to the husk that Kyle was his better, his dick now big enough for the husk to ride like a horse, especially now that it was fully hard. After just minutes of worshiping Kyle's pecs the husk apparently had already come, Kyle feeling a pathetic squirt that was mostly covered by the husk’s pants, but was still damp enough against Kyle's prominent 6-pack for Kyle to tell what happened. "Seriously, not only do you come to your new God without approval, but you let out such a pathetic fucking load?" Kyle asked disappointedly. Backing up from the wall but telepathically keeping the husk pinned to the wall, giving up on the idea of wearing any clothes by ripping off his jockstrap and kicking off his shoes, completely forgetting that he was building up foot stink for an eager to pay foot freak who he was meeting up after school. The freak would most likely be gathered up anyway so decided to forget about the whole arrangement. He forced the husk to his knees, Kyle's massive, throbbing cock in front of his face. "Suck, bitch!" Kyle shouted in a horny fit as he practically pushed his dick against the husk's face. The husk groaned as it started to suck Kyle off. Kyle groaned in pleasure as his dick throbbed and hardened more. He was very tempted to just skull fuck the puny husk, using it's body like a fleshlight but he decided to spare the pathetic thing from potentially being completely broken. After all he didn't quite want to break his toy, as now its only purpose was to serve him anyway. The husk started to get past the tip of Kyle's dick, groaning as it throbbed against its mouth. Kyle started to sweat more as he used his telekinesis to get the husk to fully deepthroat from the husk, the husk's body flinching as a reaction to being penetrated from Kyle's girth. As he started to thrust his dick inside the husk's mouth, apparently more people clamored into the science lab. Kyle turned towards them while he fucked the husk but was a bit confused when he saw that they weren't brought in by the other husks that he sent out. It wasn't until he noticed some flustered faces and tents in guy's pants that he figured that his body was emitting intense pheromones, apparently making everyone nearby mindlessly horny for Kyle. It was practically a form of hypnosis. He grinned deviously as he saw the gym coach among the growing crowd, along with some of the gym kids, getting an idea to take the steroids that they were taking, an unspoken thing in this school. "Hey, gym bitches, gimme your steroids!" Kyle shouted to them. They left, presumably to get them from their lockers. Kyle started to get close, almost forgetting about the lucky husk below him. He panted and groaned as he grabbed the head of the husk, deciding to skull fuck the husk anyway, as the husk wasn't doing enough to get him fully off. He played gently through, trying not to break the puny, pathetic fucker. He got his dick as far into the husk's mouth before finally coming, panting heavily. Just in time for the gym bitches to come back with their steroid doses, all of them using pill forms. The husk had to retract his body and gag out about two gallons worth of load onto the floor. Kyle looks down at the pathetic thing, raising one of his feet and pushing it down on the husk's body, pushing it into the pile of load onto the floor. "Lick it all up, dick taster." Kyle ordered, taking the steroids afterwards. Taking a large dose but not enough to induce an overdose. Even though at his size, he could probably take all of them, he didn't want to take the risk. He then used his telekinetic abilities to stuff as many people into the donor chamber as possible. Stepping down a bit more on the husk as it licked his load off the floor before walking off toward the recipient chamber, his dick still dripping a bit. He got into the chamber after cramming in about 20 people into the donor chamber, looking back to see everyone at the school now clamoring around the classroom. He grinned as he closed the donor chamber and stepped into the other chamber, closing it behind him and turning it on. The jolt is now really intense, making Kyle fall to his knees. Panting as he felt the muscles writhing, expanding and contracting under his skin. It expanded more rapidly as he groaned in a mixture of absolute pain and absolute pleasure. Not only were his muscles expanding, but his brain was well, his head swelling in the multiple reflections in the chamber. His head flooded with an immense amount of knowledge and comprehension. He figured if he used up the entire school, he could dominate and drain the world with ease. His nails scratching the floor of the chamber as he endured the pain, all worth it for practical God-hood. The chamber rang, giving Kyle an indication that it was over. He slowly got up, the floor of the chamber creaking a bit under his weight. He opened the door and slowly squeezed himself out of the chamber. He had to bend the door frame a bit just to get his broad, veiny shoulders fully out. He eventually managed to pop himself out. He sized himself up, noticing that he was now at least a foot taller than he last was. His pecs were so big now, he can't look down enough to see much of his torso. He noticed his biceps were about half covered in veins, mostly covered when he flexed them. He groaned in absolute delight, flexing before his horny, soon to be slaves. "You bitches and bitch boys love what you see~? Wanna see your new God get even bigger and brighter~?" Kyle asked his crowd teasingly. Flexing as a way to maximize his pheromone output. Sweat glistened across his whole, muscled-up body. The sunlight from the window poked in and bounced off the beads of sweat in a way that would make him look like the living, breathing God he knew he would become in a matter of days. What the final results would be according to Kyle's calculations, would make the muscular Gods of myth look like pathetic, tiny twinks compared to him. It seemed like the show was enough to get the crowd eager to give themselves to Kyle, even after seeing the aftermath of donating their muscle and mind to him as the 20 husks crawled out of the donor chamber. The crowd cheered and gathered around the donor chamber, already getting in, already knowing the process and eager to give themselves to him. Kyle chuckled as he squeezed himself back into the recipient chamber. After hearing the donor chamber close, he closed the recipient chamber and turned it back on. There was less pain and more pleasure this time, his body now getting used to the process. He groaned as his body grew once more as he watched in the mirrors. His pecs now sprinkled with veins along with the rest of his body and even his head, his head getting bigger, by centimeters with each series of processes. Each time the machine rang, people helped the husks vacate so they could get into the donor chamber, Kyle not even bothering to leave the chamber. Though eventually he had too, each expansion making the chamber creak and groan more and more around him. He had to start crouching just to try to buy the chamber more time. Around the 6th process, the chamber was too tight for comfort. With a tired and slightly frustrated grunt he stood up and flexed, destroying the chamber the same way a baby bird breaks out of an egg. The crowd looked on in awe, about 1/10th of the school now turned into husks. He towered over the crowd, his head now grazing the ceiling of the classroom. He didn't quite know if the gym would be able to properly accommodate his projected size if his calculations were correct, which was most likely. He weighed the odds in his head, the veins getting more prominent as he thought about it. Ultimately, it didn't matter much was his conclusion. He stomped past the clamored group in the science lab, uncaring of those he knocked down with his feet and even stepped on. He effortlessly tore down the wall, scooting the debris aside with his feet to make a clearer way "Alright, you lot, I want that machine moved to the gym in the next hour! If it's not there by…" He quickly glances down the hall to see that it's 2:52 in the afternoon. "3:45, I'll charge you all to be my servants and it'll cost y'all EVERY CENT you do and don't have!" He chuckled as he walked down the hallway towards the gym. The ground shook slightly with each step, every door frame along the way breaking like Styrofoam. He could have moved the machine himself but he wanted to see how much these dopes were committed to the whole arrangement. After a few minutes he burst into the gym, or at least, that's what it may have looked like to a puny person. For Kyle, he just casually walked in, not even bothering to try to open the doors. Waste of effort and energy when his body could simply break anything that got in the way. He reclined in the bleachers in his usual spot, the bleachers creaking a bit under him. He reclined and relaxed though. He thought about the chances of them actually bringing the machine on time. He side-eyed the clock over on top of the basketball scoreboard. 3 on the dot. While it would be impressive if they did bring it on time, he knew they realistically wouldn't. The machine would be difficult to get on a trolley and they would have to carefully maneuver it down the hall even if they did find enough trolleys that could handle all that weight. He mostly now contemplated on how to degrade them as he had to probably do the work for them. Maybe chew out the roided-up lifters for being weak betas while also making them cling to his arm to feel what true muscle felt like. He dismissed the latter half of the idea. Bit too…"dad literally picking up kids from school" vibes. Though he did like the idea of them all referring to him as "daddy", make them look and even feel more puny and pathetic along the way. Time passed by until the clock struck 3:45 and just as he thought, no machine in the gym yet. He got up, letting out a groan of expectancy mixed with disappointment and walked his way back to the science lab. The more muscular people were trying to nudge the machine up a small ramp onto a trolley that was made of a bunch of smaller trolleys put together by duct and scotch tape. Honestly, pretty pathetic that they haven't even started moving it down the halls yet. Even back at his smaller size, he would've had the machine on the trolley about half an hour ago. He whistled loudly, getting everyone's attention. "Y'all seriously haven't even gotten this thing rolling yet?" He asked, not really expecting a response as he approached the machine. He made sure to tower over all of the gym bros as he casually held the machine under his arm and pressed to his side like you would hold a basketball. He caught quick glances of the wannabe bodybuilders. One of annoyance, most impressed and awe-inspired, some got visibly turned on. "Fucking pathetic." He said dismissively, walking down the hall with the machine, making sure to tail whip the dissatisfied guy in the crotch. Kyle heard him groan and buckle down onto the ground, not even paying much attention. His dick was gonna have no value to it soon anyway, assuming it had any to begin with. The crowd followed him down the hall, still hooked on his pheromones. "Since it's past 3:45 and you dumbasses couldn't even get the machine into the hallway, y'all are getting the locker cramming treatment once I make adjustments to the machine. Y'all still owe me ALL of your money, by the way. I expect all of your wallets with your bank information in them, including your accounting and routing numbers." He remarked to the crowd as he walked to the gym. He noticed some of them getting on their cell phones and some walking into classrooms they would pass by, probably to get papers and pens. Upon getting into the gym, he gently set down the machine and started making modifications, making the donor chamber bigger as well as making a brand new recipient chamber from scratch and hopefully big enough to endure draining the whole school. As he did this, he telepathically made nearby plastic bins float around people. "Wallets in the bins, people. Don't have your wallets, strip down to your birthday suits so everyone knows you for being a broke loser." He shouted to ensure everyone could hear him. He tinkered with the machine as if this marvel of medical technology was nothing more than a Lego set to him. By the time he was finished, everyone had already deposited their wallets into the plastic bins, except about a sixth of the crowd who were completely naked. "Alright, since there were more broke bitches than I thought, paying customers, front of the line, birthday suits, go to the back of the line and crawl on all fours like the useless mutts you are!" He announced before all of the students and staff got into their places, chuckling as he grabbed a group of six puny humans with ease while watching the wave of ass cheeks flood to the back of the line. He forcibly cramed the worthless people into his machine, not even bothering to make sure there was much room for them to move. He slammed the door shut before stepping into the donor chamber, having shoved about 40 or more people in. He closed the door and looked up at the mirrors he installed after taking them from the locker rooms. His muscles practically bulged under his skin which developed stretch marks. He smirked and flexed, seeing more veins appear on his body. An already perfect body that would have professional bodybuilders revere and worship every prominent vein, knowing they could never obtain what he did with ease. He turned on the machine that he also had to rebuild to account for his size. A familiar but welcoming jolt of pain and pleasure courses through him, making him harder than any partner in lingerie could. He buckled down as if to bow before his new body, even more perfect and godly than what he has now. Writhing, stretching and tearing, practically bubbling under the skin would be the best way to describe this transformation into the next stage of evolution. A being of absolute perfection that everyone, every being, was born to worship. He chuckled as he just now noticed that his ego was growing along with the mind and body. Who cared though? He deserved this, to become the most perfect God in all of myth. Everyone and everything only had a fraction of value compared to just one of his stretch marks. Little pissants whose only value was in giving themselves to his might and worship. Once the machine rang, steam had fogged up the mirrors, his body in intense heat. He opened the door and wiped the fog off the nearest mirror, his forehead now having five visible veins on it, not including any that would be covered up by his hair, his forehead almost 1.5 times its usual size. Getting hard from the absolute monster he had become now compared to how he was mere hours ago. And got harder upon realizing this was just the beginning for him. He stomped out of the chamber, the floor creaking from his admittedly overly eager showcasing to the others. He even left a foot indentation on the gym floor, the same way as you would by walking barefoot through mud. Enjoying the brief "crunch" sound under his weight. He then started briefly showing off his body, flexing and bouncing his pecs as well as letting out a loud, dominant growl. "You want more from this muscle God~?! Lemme hear how much y'all want more!" He shouted into the crowd before getting the shouts and applause he wanted. Of course these bugs wanted more, that's their whole purpose. Even pheromones wouldn't drive up this much enthusiasm, this was something more. This was more than bee-like pheromones that make workers serve a queen. This was absolute divinity they were witnessing. A true God of muscle and might appearing before their puny, fragile bodies. He walked up to the donor chamber and telepathically scooped out the husks before replacing them with more people than last time, still wanting to experience that jolt of growth and pleasure. Scooping people up with his muscular arms and practically tossing them in haphazardly. Once it got to absolute maximum capacity, he stepped into the recipient chamber once more and flipped on the switch after closing the door behind him. This process would continue for a few rounds before he got to the broke crowd, towering before them like a titanic mass of muscle and musk, the constant growth making his body sweat with each process. He tried to look down at them but his pecs became so big it impacted his ability to look down effectively. Still able to see the tips of his toes but nothing beyond that. He looked down at them, thinking about the best way to degrade them further for a second. "Bark if you dogs think you're worth serving me." He spoke, stalling a bit for time. A good chunk of the crowd barked, only a few barking continuously. He brought up a foot and dropped it down on one of the barkers, silencing all the ones who did bark, except the one under his foot who let out a grunt like someone who accidentally dropped the bar on his chest during bench presses. "The few who didn't bark were smart. None of you broke bitches are worthy of even licking the beads of sweat off my balls, let alone serving me truly." He corrected the dogs, instinctively looking down to check on the dog under his foot to see the guy's head poking out from under his heel. Still seemed fine so he playfully grinded his foot on top of the dog's back as the rest looked pitifully up at him. He pressed the foot down further before finally letting off and backing off to look down at the runt, his back coated in dirt and sweat. "As one of the dogs who barked, foot rug, it's up to you to beg me to forgive the rest of them for their arrogance~" Kyle chuckled at the demand, intrigued to see how the foot rug of a man would beg. He had already forgave them like the merciful God he is, but still wanted to see at least one of them grovel before draining them. The man slumbered into a low bow while still on his knees. "Please forgive us, our walking God." The man started pleading, to Kyle's delight. "We were just so eager to serve, we forgot our place and why we were the last in the school to give our whole selves to you, master. Please, I will serve as a rug for you to wipe the dirt off your feet on, I will lick up every bead of sweat off your balls like it's the savory liquor of the Gods. Just please, let us serve, master." The begging and bargaining was so pathetic and submissive, it made Kyle's dick twitch a bit. Either this guy was a submissive little bitch with plenty of begging experience or they really have started seeing him as a type of God. Amusing him to make him chuckle a bit at the idea of "Kyleism" soon becoming the religion of the planet soon. But a devious idea of completely absorbing all of these broke bitches entered his mind and it leaked out into a wicked smile. "Alright, since you begged so well, I've forgiven you dogs like the benevolent God I am. However, such arrogance doesn't come without consequence. Give me a few minutes to make some adjustments to the machine and you will get what you deserve and seek~" Kyle spoke to the crowd before turning his back to them, letting down his hefty tail onto the back of the groveling dog. It crushed the puny human with a loud grunt and maybe a soft crack. He didn't even flinch at the sound. They would obtain a great fate anyhow. Kyle grabbed his tools and tinkered with the machine. Creating an "absolute absorption" feature that would completely absorb every single atom, molecular, microscopic and nanoscopic organism inside the donor chamber. Now these formally worthless people will finally put themselves to some use. Maybe if that one groveler was lucky, maybe his atoms would go to his feet or balls. Unfortunately for them, their consciousness would evaporate as there would be no mind or brain remaining to retain it. Some would probably relish the idea of being fused to his flesh, understandably so. Who wouldn't want to be a part of his perfect body? He soon finished mere minutes later, even installing the new mode to be an option on his remote via a dial. Wiping some sweat off his forehead, he looked back at the crowd of dogs, chuckling as he knew what would soon come of them. "Alright you worthless mutts, get the fuck in there where y'all belong~" he told the dogs as he started to stuff and shove then donor chamber, more an order of compliance than a statement. He made sure to save the groveller for last, cramming all the dogs in, to the point to where the metal would creak around them. He then wrapped his tail around the ankle and dangled the pathetic bug in front of him. Making it so that way the main thing that the puny insect sees is Kyle's dick and balls, Kyle's flaccid shaft half as big as the insect's body. His dick throbbed at the thought of what he was about to do next. "Now, what do you say, foot rug?" Kyle asked, looking down at the puny man, manipulating his tail to make the human's body sway while being dangled like a pendulum. "Th-thank you, master Kyle." Kyle chuckled and brought the human's face right up against the tip of his dìck. The human's head was actually a bit smaller than the head he was pressed up against. "Good, now kiss your God's dick like a good rug" Kyle ordered, his dick throbbing once more, bumping more into the human's face. The human would surprisingly hesitate before finally giving in to Kyle's order, his lips making contact with Kyle's urethra as much as it could. This made Kyle groan and get hard a bit. "Good little bitch. Don't be afraid to use your tongue while you're at it~." Kyle moaned while the human whimpered in a bit of disgust. Though maybe it might've been that one thing that bottoms do when they pretend like they don't like something when they clearly do. He didn't care whether the bitch boy actually liked it, it felt good to him and as far as this insect should be concerned, that would be the only thing that mattered. A few minutes would pass by, the bug disappointingly not using tongue at all. Kyle would use his tail to toss the man into the donor chamber before slamming the door on them. Chuckling as he set the machine to "absolute absorption" mode before stepping into the recipient chamber. Closing the door behind him, he turned on the machine, an instant shock overwhelming him. A feeling of an explosion pouring over his body as every inch of his body pulsed and throbbed rapidly. As if there was some resistance from where his strength and mind enhancement was coming from. Thoughts that were not his own appeared in his mind. Pleads and begs of the pathetic dogs flashing in and out of his mind as Kyle dropped to his knees, slamming his knuckle into the floor of the machine. "Shut up and accept your fates. Y'all know this is what you deserve. You should be grateful little bastards. Y'all get to be part of something bigger, better. You get to be a part of a God! Now submit as you were meant to and let yourselves be one with your God." Kyle shouted at the stream of other's consciousness flowing into him, mentally straining a bit for complete dominance. The veins on his forehead became more prominent as his head grew in size. The stream was losing strength as Kyle was shown moments of other's memories and knowledge flowing into him. His muscles bubbled under his scales as they stretched and expanded far more than the normal process. The knowledge of other people's lives converted to knowledge of all probable lifeforms in this universe and the next. Knowledge of all known languages. How to completely bend the minds and wills of all life to his will. He grimaced with knowledge of how to conquer all life in this universe. His body steamed and sweated profusely, fogging up the chamber and it creaked and groaned around him. His body kept expanding as Kyle mentally declared himself the king of this universe for all will submit to him! At this thought, he ended up bursting out of the chamber yet again. Each one acting as an egg for his proverbial rebirths. His body had stopped expanding by this point, good thing too as he noticed that he and his husks were standing in complete darkness, not even any light from the sun emerging from the windows. The big gym clock stopped at 8:56. The power most likely went out from all the electricity used to perform the absolute absorption mode. Kyle opened the donor chamber to see nothing in there. Not a single speck of dirt or dust in there from what little Kyle could see. He flexed his muscular body once more. All those puny little bitches now became nothing more than the muscles on his body. He got hard at the thought as he flexed. Admittedly wishing there was a way to keep them conscious so they could mentally worship him. Feel every flex of his muscles in what used to be their bodies. Feel every step from their God, get to enjoy the flow of blood into his dick which, when fully hardened, could easily tower over a whole person. Probably about 6 feet in length by now. It made him curious how it would feel to be remade into a sperm cell swimming in the balls of a God. He would probably obtain this knowledge later on during his conquest of the universe. But merely serving as part of his ever-expanding muscles was surely a fitting enough reward for a bunch of worthless bitches. He laid rest on the floor, not really caring if he crushed a husk to death under his body or not. Their lives were made to serve him, after all. Speaking of which, his dick throbbed as he telepathically lifted up the puny insects and pressed them to his towering body. "Worship and caress your God till he falls asleep. You all may sleep when I am fully asleep first." Kyle ordered the husks. They unreluctantly worshiped the muscled-up God. Kyle relaxed on the floor, resting his forearms behind his head with a bit of strain, all the muscles on his body making it a bit harder than usual. He relished in every action of his husks, from all the caressing and massaging down to each lick of his body. Some were worshiping his dick and balls, making it admittedly a bit difficult to fall asleep but eventually sleep came for the massive dragon as he was slowly lulled into slumber. Great visions of glory and God-hood would play out in Kyle's dreams. Him towering over Skyscrapers, his very knees piercing the clouds above. Him laying on a lavish chariot made of the planet's finest and studier materials and luxuries. Him gulping down a custom made glass of ocean water, "accidentally" consuming little specks that were once to him recognizable as humans without care or thought. Thousands crushed under a single step from the uncaring God as they would be absorbed into his body either way. Him sitting on the Earth reshaped into a throne, using the moon as a footrest. All alien life cowering as he absorbed them without any effort at all. The begging, whines, and pleads as he absorbs damn near everything with a pulse. Planets drained of all life repurposed into beads on lavish looking jewelry. All would be one with his glorious body and worship him! The dream, possibly a vision of things to come for him, would slowly fade as his eyelids slowly drew open. Instead of upon his throne, he was back laying on the floor of the gym. Still being worshiped by the insignificant bugs that he let bugs worship him. A thought would come to the awakening giant. He didn't need these insects or that puny machine they made for him. Through his telekinetic abilities, he could simply extract all beings his own damn self. Cut out the middleman and just drain them himself. He felt a pathetic insect dare to squirt over by his left armpit. Getting him to eventually acknowledge all the other insects that were still awake, still worshiping him. Annoyed with this particular insect he telepathically pulled the bug up to his face, his eyes tiredly looking up in disgust towards this insect. "Did you really just come on your God, while he was just waking up and without approval?" He asked the pathetic being that he now recognized as the first nerd he shoved into the machine. His puny, muscle depraved body was honestly not that different from how he looked 24 hours ago. Only difference now was the absence of clothes and glasses. He waited tediously long for the bitches response. "Master smell good…" was slowly sputtered by the pathetic thing as he still leaked, dripping down onto his lower lip. Kyle simply rolled his eyes before licking up the bit of seed that dripped onto his lip. Setting the bug down onto his chest. Of course these bugs couldn't help but to come to him. He was a living example of perfection. The whole flock of insects could come now and it wouldn't be more than a mere inconvenience. He groaned as he got up, the very gym shaking underneath him. What was left of the wooden floor beneath him anyway. Several indentations in the floor from where he walked and laid down. He walked to the exit of the gym, feeling at least a few of the husks cushion each step he took. He didn't even slow down or walk cautiously for them. If they didn't want to be stepped on, they would've gotten out of his way. By the time he got to the exit, at least 3 bugs got peeled off his godly feet. With barely any effort, he broke down the wall leading outside. This ended up being beneficial for the insects to follow him. They served no purpose without him so of course they followed their new God that they gave everything to. This flock of insects were cute but not nearly enough for a God. He walked out into the city with his goal already in mind. He needed all of humankind, no, ALL LIFE to submit to him. He walked into the more populated parts of the town. Leaving behind foot prints on whatever he walked on. Grass, concrete, cars, people who would not walk out of their God's way. Each step announcing his arrival to his servants like the bells and trumpets that were spoken of when the concept of a rapture got explored. His pheromones got caught on the wind and spread far and wide across the town. Like a skunk being run over, people could smell it for miles away but they were naturally drawn into the scent of a God. All who got a whiff, inevitably started to follow the scent and the stomping sounds made by their God. Many followed him throughout the downtown area. Some tried, and even succeeded, to cling onto their God. Most clung to his broad, muscular ankles, some clung onto his balls and shaft which were close to dragging across the floor. Some merely wished to kiss his feet or balls. The fools got trampled over, especially the ones trying to kiss the soles of his feet. Whatever spots weren't being covered by the mortals anyway. By the time he got to the center of the town, his feet were completely cushioned by both husks and humans. He looked out onto the crowd that followed him, thousands at minimum, ensuring him that there was not much difference between husk and man. They were all made to serve him after all. "ATTENTION ALL MY SERVANTS! YOU'RE GOD IS NOW HERE AND DEMANDS ALL OF YOU PRESENT!" He shouted into the air, his voice booming and far reaching. The message echoed across the town and even a few miles out further. He sat down on the roof of a nearby parking garage. An inadequate place for a God to sit but it was enough to sit and wait for his subjects to arrive. As he waited, his servants would bow to their new owner. This got a chuckle out of Kyle before he curiously looked at the sole of one of his feet. About 8 mortals were stuck to their God's foot. Actually upon closer look, they were clinging onto his foot. Not that it mattered much anyways. They should be thankful to serve their God in such a way, even if it was completely unwilling. Within an hour, all his servants appeared before him. Hundreds of thousands of indistinguishable insects looking up at their God in reverence. His pheromones had definitely spread far enough to get every one of them hooked to his powerful will and eager to serve. Seeing some cameras of various types pointing at him, he decided that he probably needed to perform…less casually, at the very least. He actually had not thought about what kind of God he was going to be when it came to addressing his servants. He always degraded, bullied and humiliated others back when he was mortal so might as well keep going with what was natural. He slowly stood up, indifferent to the crunching of bones underneath him from the servants basking in his glory. "As pathetic as this flock is, it surely will do for how you all may help your God. Your God is a powerful one as you all can see." He says before performatively flexing his body. The muscles and shadows being emphasized by the sun set above him like a spotlight. "But…this is not enough from your God. Your God has ambitions. Far higher than any of you puny insects ever could have. What you all need to know is that your God demands power. As much as possible, you will no longer need any. All y'all will need is to surrender yourselves to me and worship me. That shall be your lives purpose from now on. So I expect all of you to work together to build a ray gun to surge all of the Earth's power into your God. Do this and your species will be rewarded very well, this is my promise to you, my lowly, insignificant servants." He finished before sitting back down. All the insects below taking that as their cue to get to work on this ray gun. He relaxed as his message spread not just to the bugs in front of him but also because of the bugs with the cameras, all the insects across the planet got to work as well. All his servants heard their God's word, his pheromones apparently speaking across the planet. They all now work together, finally truly unified as one to serve their God's will. The utopia that has been discussed and debated for centuries will all soon be theirs once their God ascends further and all will be able to truly bask in his glory very soon from the sounds of it. Could he have made it himself? Realistically yes but this was a test of this lower species' devotion to their better. After a few hours the ray gun was finally constructed. Kyle was semi-impressed. Took longer than if he would've built it but that would've taken just the power of the whole continent. These insects managed to arrange things so all the electrical, solar and nuclear power on the planet would all surge into him. He stomped in front of the ray, truly uncaring of who or what he stepped on and demanded that the mortals turned it on. A glow of pure light from the ray guns tip was all Kyle saw before he got an intense burning engulf him, making him send out a massive wail of pain, making him buckle down onto his knees. Each cell in his body breaking down and duplicating at speeds faster than the speed of light. The scream from their God made the mortals turn on the machine in naive fear that this would even so much as hurt their God. This was just part of his ascension. His body steamed and pulsed within the scales on his body as he was at least 4 times bigger than when he approached all his servants. His whole being glowing in pure, radiant light before revealing his red hot, scorching body. With a raging hard-on that had collapsed a few buildings around him, he looked down at the mortal furiously. "I DIDN'T SAY FOR YOU TO TURN IT OFF, YOU WORM! TURN IT BACK ON AND DON'T TURN IT OFF AGAIN!" He shouted furiously at the beetle sized mortal who dared to blue ball him at the beginning of this glorious moment. The demand was so loud it was heard from the other side of the planet. The insect of a man trembled and pathetically begged his God for forgiveness as it turned the ray gun back on. The same flash of light before the overwhelming pain surged through the living God. He rapidly grew more quickly than ever before. His expansion was akin to an un-bursting balloon being hooked up to a thousand air machines. His screams turned into moans of triumph and dominion over all that exists, the feelings of pleasure converted into feelings of pure pleasure, bliss and ecstasy. He grew to tower the whole land, able to see past the horizon on the planet as all conceivable knowledge flowed into his mind. The timelines of this dimension and galaxy along with all other ones. Not only could he know of them, he could control them by mere thought alone. With this, he altered all dimensions and galaxies to worship him and him alone. Not even other versions of himself in other dimensions. Those pathetic versions of himself should've obtained true God-hood and dominion of all that is, isn't and isn't yet before he could. Once all the power got drained from the planet, he took his stand. His foot alone was the size of a small island. Each step creating a deep indentation in the puny lands beneath him. His musk and pheromones had replaced all the oxygen in the air, making it the only thing any of his servants could smell. He looked down to barely be able to see his lowly servants anymore. His cock throbbed with might, dripping some pre down onto a city that got blessed with their God's seed. He bellowed in triumph and might as a wicked way to reward his servants popped into his mind. His mind was certain now what kind of rapture his subjects would experience. "MY SERVANTS CALLED HUMANS, YOU HAVE SERVED YOUR GOD WELL AND HAVE REDEEMED ALL LIFE ON THIS PITIFUL, LOWLY PLANET! SO THUS, ALLOW YOUR GOD TO REWARD YOU WITH WHAT YOU ALL SHALL TRULY DESIRE!" He yelled to all his servants below. He held up his right hand over the planet and started to telepathically lift up all life on Earth towards them. Every man, every animal, every insect, every virus and multi-cell organism joined together to be pressed against the mighty hand of their God. He proceeded to take all the creatures and used their bodies to create a fleshlight that would barely be capable of handling his eclipsing shaft. He then put it to work, jamming his massive, throbbing cock into the writhing collection of life on this planet. He didn't go gentle on the insignificant specs, thrusting in and out rapidly as he started to absorb all the lifeforms. This was their purpose fully realized. Their heaven would be becoming a conscious addition to their God. He grew and grew even more. The usual sensation was more of a tingle this time around. He was so damn close, he had hoped that some of the pathetic life forms would survive long enough to experience their God coming. As a being outside of him that is. They would have all of eternity to experience being both their God's cock and the load he shoots out at the same time. He groaned as his mighty body and cock expanded far outside the stratosphere making him able to see all of space before him, the continent cracking under his weight. He screamed gloriously as he squeezed his dick tightly, unleashed his load that would've replaced the very oceans of the planet off into space. This would crush and press any remaining specks of life into his cock. He panted tiredly as all of life would get absorbed into his glorious, perfectly Godly form. Then in his maniacal state where he didn't want the smallest risk of his rule being undone, he absorbed all the Kyle's in the other dimensions. Some were stupid enough to think they were safe from his grasp and all begging to be spared. Even one that was close to finishing using his dimensions servants just as he had finished seconds before he did. He should've gotten that taken care of a few seconds earlier. He didn't even get a bit of mercy from his better self as he was just on the edge of climaxing before he and all of his servants in that dimension were all absorbed. Not only were all the other Kyle's absorbed but all of their blasphemous followers. There was to be nothing worshiped as God other than him. As they got absorbed, jet black ram-like horns rapidly grew along his head along with spikes on his back and his tail. All the colors of each spike were that of each Kyle absorbed. His eyes changed color as well, becoming a dimly glowing deep purple color. Giving the God a cold, cruel stare even though he himself grew indifferent and it showed in his face. As a result of this, he had grown to the point that the Earth would no longer be able to withstand his size so he had to step off of the lifeless planet. His body had become coated in veins, every vein his body bulging out and competing with his muscles for which would be more prominent. Also, he had become all knowing, knowing of every thought and action across all the dimensions, even before they occurred and this was showcased by his bulbous forehead which was as long, if not longer, than his abdomen. He could feel all the life he had absorbed coursing through them. Not only that, but all the intelligence and malicious, evil intentions of the other Kyles. All their thoughts, all their praises and prayers, all their begging and pleading for release.it was decided through absorbing all the other Kyles and their evil, however, that he would not rule as a benevolent or indifferent God, but one that was more cruel and punishing than any devil to exist all because he merely could. All life was far too beneath him to hold any maliciousness towards them. All was solely to remind them every second of their lives knowing their place. He dismissed all the voices and feelings equally to work on shifting the very planets and the various dimensions to his will. Pressing the planets in his dimension together and breaking them down to forge a throne worthy of his rule. He then proceeded to make all the other dimensions pay for not aiding in his ascension by giving them form, pressing them against each other to create his new garments: a pair of gladiator sandals, forced to have some of the foulest part of his body be the very thing they breathed in with no reprieve whatsoever. As he sat down on his throne, his servants and selves from other dimensions all now relishing in becoming a part of their God, he then grabbed the very sun itself and broke it in two. One half forged onto a crown and the other half served as a cock ring to keep the deity forever erect. He needed to repay his lowly servants after all and being in a constant state of sexual arousal which they all could feel was the very least this God could do for them. I would appreciate feedback in the comments section I'm always open to collaboration if anyone needs ideas for a corrupt story where the evil tyrant wants to get even stronger. Just write me a private message if I have aroused your interest.

— This is a fictional video transcription of a vlog interaction between Jeff Seid and David Laid — (The camera starts rolling, panning at Jeff who is filming in his house) Jeff Seid: What's up guys, Jeff Seid here and today I have a special guest with me. You guys have been asking for it and we're finally making it happen. That's right, I'm here with David Laid and we're gonna do a physique comparison. David Laid: What's up guys, David Laid here. I'm excited to be here with Jeff and compare our physiques. Jeff Seid: So, just to give you guys an idea, I'm 6'0 and currently weighing in at around 230 pounds. I've been training for over 10 years now and I think my physique speaks for itself. David Laid: And I'm 6'2 and currently weighing in at around 205 pounds. I've been training for about 6 years and I'm always striving to improve. Jeff Seid: Alright, let's get into it. David, why don't you show us what you're working with? (David proceeds to do a series of poses, showing off his muscular physique) Jeff Seid: (nodding) Nice, nice. You definitely have some impressive size and definition there. David Laid: Thanks man, I appreciate it. Alright Jeff, let's see what you got. (Jeff proceeds to do a series of poses, showcasing his massive muscles) David Laid: (impressed) Wow, your size and definition is insane. Your muscles are so thick and dense. Jeff Seid: (smiling) Thanks man, I put a lot of hard work and dedication into my training. David Laid: (nodding) Yeah, I can tell. You have some serious muscle mass, especially in your upper body. Jeff Seid: (laughing) Yeah, I've been called a walking tank before. David Laid: (laughs) I can see why. (Jeff and David continue to compare their physiques, pointing out their strengths and weaknesses) Jeff Seid: (noticing David's admiration) Hey man, are you alright? You seem a little distracted. David Laid: (shakes his head) Oh, sorry. It's just...I can't help but be mesmerized by your muscles, Jeff. They're so big and strong. Jeff Seid: (surprised) Uh, thanks man. I appreciate the compliment. David Laid: (rubbing Jeff's bicep) I mean, just look at this muscle. It's so thick and hard. Jeff Seid: (confused) Uh, what are you doing, man? David Laid: (admiring Jeff's arm) I'm just admiring your muscle, Jeff. It's so impressive. Jeff Seid: (starts to enjoy it) Oh...okay. Well, thanks man. I mean, I do work hard for these muscles. (David continues to rub and admire every muscle on Jeff's body, from his thick neck down to his treetrunk-like legs) Jeff Seid: (starts to get turned on) Uh...what's going on, man? Why are you doing this? David Laid: (continues to worship Jeff's muscles) I just can't help myself, Jeff. Your muscles are so amazing. I need to touch them, feel them. (Jeff's words slowly turn into muffled moans as David admires his muscles) Jeff Seid: (breathless) Oh...oh man. That feels...so good. David Laid: (smiling) I'm glad you're enjoying it, Jeff. (Jeff and David continue the muscle worship session, with Jeff getting more and more turned on by the minute) Jeff Seid: (moaning) Oh...oh man. Your touch...it's driving me crazy. David Laid: (smiling) Your muscles are just so amazing. I can't help but worship them. (Jeff's body is now covered in a sheen of sweat, his muscles bulging and flexing with every touch) Jeff Seid: (panting) Oh...oh man. You're...you're making me so hard right now. David Laid: (grinning) Yeah, I can see that. Your muscles are definitely responding to my touch. Doesn’t that just wanna make you cum? (Jeff and David continue the muscle worship session, with Jeff now completely lost in the moment) Jeff Seid: (gasping) Oh...oh man. I can't...I can't hold back anymore. David Laid: (smiling, whispering on Jeff's ear) Go ahead, Jeff. Let it all out. (Jeff finally reaches climax, his body shaking with pleasure as he lets out a loud moan) David Laid: That's right, cum it all out. It's all for me Jeff Seid: Ughh. What do you mean? (David continues to rub Jeff's muscles, starting with his pecs) David Laid: Your pecs are so tender. Ughhh! (As David rubs Jeff's pecs, his own pecs start to grow. But Jeff doesn’t realize that his pecs are shrinking) Jeff Seid: (Touching David's pecs) Fuck you're so hot! (Jeff notices David's pecs growing as he touches them, making him look at his own smaller pecs) Jeff Seid: Ughhh what's happening to me? Stop! David Laid: (Whispering on Jeff's ear) I'm taking my place as the most aesthetic. Jeff Seid: (Trying to pull away but he's too overwhelmed by the pleasure he's feeling) Ughh, let go! (David grabs Jeff's arms while Jeff grabs his in an attempt to push him away) David Laid: (Squeezing Jeff's biceps) Your arms are huge, man, I can't resist them! I can't wait to flex them as my own. (Jeff continues to push away David's arms but little does he know that touching him makes the theft faster) Jeff Seid: Please, my muscles are so small- ughh- David Laid: (Moving his hands onto Jeff's legs and shoulders) No, not yet. I need more! Jeff Seid: Ughhh! Oh fuck! (Jeff feels intense pleasure, his muscles still shrinking) David Laid: (Moving onto hugging Jeff tight) I want more, ugh! Jeff Seid: (Feeling the warmth of David's body and overwhelmed with pleasure) Please I- ugh! M-my bod-ughhh! (Jeff is filled with more and more pleasure while David grows into 285 pounds. Before Jeff was crushed, David let's go of his now average and limp 150 pound body. David looks at the mirror and flexes while Jeff stands shakily.) David Laid: (Flexing) That’s a bit too big. I need some balance in proportions. 6'6 would look good on me, don't you think? (David grabs Jeff by the neck. Jeff tries to struggle but he is once again filled with immense pleasure) Jeff Seid: UGhhh! Fuck ughhh! (David's limbs start to get longer, he grows taller and taller. Jeff starts to get lifted off the ground. Jeff's limbs start to shorten and his muscles start to compact, making it look like he still has a bit of muscle definition.) David Laid: (Putting Jeff down) That's better, I'd take your remaining size but I guess I still have some humanity in me so I won't. Besides, 5'8 looks good on you, you can still model for a living. Jeff Seid: (Filled with so much pleasure that he can't think) Please, David-ugh! Just let me cum again! David Laid: (Rubbing Jeff's throbbing cock) Will you give me anything if I let you cum? Jeff Seid: Fuuc- ugh! Yes, take what you want- ughhh! (David continues to rub Jeff's 9 inch cock and grapefruit-like balls while pressing his own 6 incher on Jeff's ass. As more and more pleasure builds up, they both moan and start to breathe heavily. ) David Laid: (feeling his cock and balls grow) Oh, fuck this feels good! Jeff Seid: Ughh shit ughh! I need to cum! David Laid: Not until I do! (David's cock grows into a 12 incher and his balls grow as they fill with cum. The opposite happens to Jeff as his once 9 inch cock shrinks into 3 inches and his balls shrink as well. More pleasure builds up until David can't take it anymore and cums.) David Laid: (Ejaculating large amounts of cum into Jeff's ass) Ugghhh! Take it all in! Fuck this is so hot! Jeff Seid: (Also ejaculating dribbles of cum out of his 3 incher) Ohh fuuuck! Ughhh! Ughh! Yeahh! (Their orgasm dies down and Jeff faints after he cums, still whimpering and moaning. David inspects his new body and flexes while touching himself. He looks at Jeff on the floor, almost feeling bad. David Laid: (panting, laughing) I'm glad you enjoyed it, Jeff. Your muscles are just too amazing to resist. Maybe in another life, we can both exist as muscle gods, just not in this one. Thanks for the donation (The video cuts with David Laid walking away after putting tight clothes on)

Tim and Josh had just finished their workout and were changing in the gym locker room. Tim had been working out for months, trying to bulk up and impress Josh, who was always the biggest and strongest guy in the gym. But Josh seemed to barely notice him, always focused on his own workout and his own physique. As Tim approached Josh, his heart was pounding in his chest. He had been rehearsing what he wanted to say for weeks, but now that the moment was here, he was suddenly nervous. "Josh, I need to tell you something," Tim said, his voice barely above a whisper. Josh looked up from his locker, surprised by Tim's sudden seriousness. "What's up, man?" he asked. Tim took a deep breath and said, "I...I have feelings for you, Josh. I've had them for a long time now, and I just couldn't keep them bottled up anymore." Josh's face turned red with shock and confusion. He tried to back away, but Tim was too quick. He lunged at Josh, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his body against Josh's. Josh struggled, but Tim was surprisingly strong. He seemed to have a new power coursing through his body, and it was growing with each passing moment. As Josh tried to pull away, he suddenly felt a strange sensation. He looked down and saw that his legs were merging with Tim's. He tried to scream, but his mouth was pressed against Tim's chest. He could feel his own muscles shrinking as Tim's grew bigger and more defined. Tim's body was now towering over him, twice his original size, with Josh's body parts sticking out of him like a grotesque Siamese twin. Tim reveled in his newfound power, feeling each muscle in his body grow bigger and stronger. He could feel Josh's body parts merging with his own, becoming a permanent part of him. He felt a rush of pleasure as each muscle fiber expanded, filling him with a sense of power and dominance. As Josh disappeared completely into Tim's body, Tim let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. He was now a completely different person, a giant among men, with Josh's body parts as a constant reminder of his newfound power. He flexed his biceps, feeling the power coursing through his veins. Tim felt a rush of energy coursing through his veins. He could feel the power of Josh's muscles, merged with his own, pulsing through his body. Tim had never felt so strong, so powerful, so alive. He reached up and touched his biceps, feeling the hard muscle under his skin. It was a sensation he had never experienced before. As he explored his new body, Tim realized that he had become a completely different person. The body he had been working so hard to build before seemed small and weak compared to the massive, muscular form he now possessed. He flexed his arms, watching the bulging muscles ripple under his skin. He felt a sense of pride and satisfaction, knowing that he had accomplished something that few others could ever hope to achieve. He took a deep breath and tightened his chest muscles, feeling them bulge and contract under his skin. Then, he let them loose, bouncing his pecs up and down. It was a sensation he had never experienced before, the feeling of his muscles moving on their own accord. He laughed in delight, feeling like he was in control of his body in a way he had never been before. As he continued to bounce his pecs, he realized that he was drawing attention from the other guys in the locker room. They were staring at him, some with envy and others with admiration. Tim felt a sense of pride in himself, knowing that he had accomplished something that few others could ever hope to achieve. He bounced his pecs a few more times, enjoying the sensation of his muscles moving under his skin. Then, he relaxed, feeling a sense of satisfaction and contentment. He knew that he was now a different person, someone who could take on the world and win But it wasn't just the size and strength of his muscles that made Tim feel good. It was the sense of power and dominance that came with them. For so long, he had been the small, weak guy that no one paid attention to. But now, he was a giant among men, with the body to match. He knew that he could take on anyone and win, that no one would dare to challenge him. As he stood there, admiring his new body, Tim felt a sense of euphoria wash over him. He was no longer the same person he had been before. He had been reborn as something new, something better.He was no longer the small, weak guy he had been before. He was now a force to be reckoned with, and he knew that no one would ever be able to stand in his way. And he knew that he would never go back to being the small, weak guy he had once been.

Dantalion looked across the great vista from his vantage point at the rim of a great canyon. He saw across a great plain, full of life with trees and herds of animals he had never seen before. Just in front of him, he saw a massive waterfall, miles wide, thundering with white frothy cascades pouring over the underlying rocks. He felt a light mist settling on his face and it felt like nothing he had experienced before. He peered over the edge of the cliff and found himself looking into a deep black pool of water a hundred metres or so below him. The waterfall, jettisoning across the pool made no splashes, made no movement on the pool below him, but he could see inch by inch the level of the pool rising. He felt powerful and as more dew settled on him, he realized that he was dreaming. He felt a surge of panic, even thought the scene in front of him was so perfect, beautiful, and all-encompassing. Where was Trevor? Then he was thrust into another scene… ———————————————————————- The room was dark but he could just make out an extremely handsome man, well-muscled in build from what he could tell, a cigar parked on the right - draw, draw, draw from the cigar - crimson edges of the cigar etching into his mind. Next to the Cigar Man was his brother, Bael. He was bound in silver chains. The chains ran into glowing cuffs around his thick wrists, ankles and neck. Pull, pull, pull on the cigar. Every pull seemed to somehow push Bael more - and by push - the veins around his neck throbbed with the embers around the man’s cigar. Throbbed is the right word. As the Cigar Man inhaled, he could see Bael’s ecstasy. He was angry with rage coursing through him. He could feel it as if it were himself. More, pull more. The pull on the cigar - the Power flowing into him every time, just a bit more. Bael was perfection. His eyes were violet and the same flames licked them as did Dandelions. They would always recognize each other in this way. Bael’s musculature was complete and utterly God-like. Dantalion was both aroused and terrified. His brother was, in his true form, ten times larger, ten times more beautiful, ten times more devastating than Dantalion would ever have thought - or given his new way of thinking - imaginable. He pulsed just a bit larger, just a bit more intimidating, just a bit more - everything - with every pull on the cigar. Bael looked directly at Dantalion as if he could really see him. “Hello, brother. What a surprise you are.” The massive djinn didn’t mouth the words, but they sounded like a thunder-claps in D’s mind. Pull, pull, pull from the cigar. The massive djinn’s veins were rising to the surface. Massive irrigation hoses, inches around, flooded him with more and more growth. Pull, pull, pull on the cigar… The massive djinn bulging with increasing striations, increasing size, increasing power. The Cigar Man started laughing maniacally. The first-born djinn closed his eyes and flexed. A million muscle fibers erupted along his body as he tested the strength of his silver ropes and shackles. Some links looked like they had formed stress fractures. The silver appearance was giving way to metal under too much pressure. Dantalion suddenly knew the Cigar Man. He was a world leader. He was feared and loathed… He was unfathomably rich. He was hated. The massive djinn continued testing his shackles, his chains… and they began to break. “FUCCCCCK!” Beal yelled into Dantalion’s mind. He felt pressure on his shoulder - a prodding. A kneading. “D, are you OK?” Trevor was shaking his djinn awake. “D. D!!!” Dantalion sat up with a start. He was flexing his own musculature. His forearms were larger than ever, his pecs heaved larger and larger by the second, his legs seemed to be able to create their own gravity. “I need to show you something. Do not be afraid.” Trevor grabbed Dandelion’s hand and caressed it. “I trust you.” ——————————————————— Dantalion had grown larger. Trevor could see it easily. This was not a slight shift in his thickness and height. Instead, he was looking at someone with substantially more mass. Trevor was taken back a bit by the refined facial features of Dantalion as well. “I am OK, Master. Do not worry,” Dantalion purred. He looked into Trevor’s eyes with a devotion that was nearly as frightening as the size of his pecs. The djinn was running his hands along T’s shoulders and down to his waist, slowly, gently, like stroking a small kitten. Trevor scanned his djinn’s body but all he could think of was how much larger his muscle god had grown. He had wished for D to be is his natural state while they fucked, made love, whatever that was - and he had not changed that command. He wasn’t complaining though. Dantalion seemed to be just a bit more of everything. And he could feel an increased power in their bond. “But this is my natural state now, Master.” The djinn’s mouth had not moved but Trevor heard his djinn’s voice as if they had. D stretched his body laying on his back, his Bound looking into his eyes nervously. Everything seemed to grow bigger again. Dandelion’s shoulders, his long corded arms, his legs, everything, expanded in a noticeable way. “Thank you, Master… I am experiencing … a change to my nature. You have given me a great gift - one I did not realize I could experience.” Dantalion closed his eyes, the flames extinguishing as soon as he had done so. He groaned slightly as another wave of growth struck his already-massive body. Another soft moan from his lips. Dandelion’s impressive cock stretch higher onto his abs- hard, menacing, truly god-like. Trevor couldn’t resist and wrapped his hand around Dandelion’s cock root. He slid his hand, only able to get about three-quarters around it - up slowly, gently toward the djinn god’s cock head. A shudder from D stopped him from going further. He paused. “Why are you calling me ‘Master’ now again, D? I asked you to call me Trevor, or T - but you have’t in the past few minutes.” Trevor gripped the djinn’s cock again with earnestness and continued upward, feeling the rock hard veins and steel djinn flesh under his hand. “I can if you would like it, Sir. But… fuck… it feels so good to call you Master and you did say you want me to feel good.” Dantalion’s eyes opened for a moment and then closed again. “Is that correct, Master?” He bit his lower lip and moaned a bit more as the word Master left his lips. Of course Trevor wanted his djinn to feel good, to experience pleasure, that was part of his hope. He could feel the power moving through the bond, almost a lust for more. More power. More of whatever D needed to continue his evolution. Trevor watched as D’s cock leaked more and more clear pre-cum onto the thick vein-netted abdominals. The grooves were filling with it. He moved up onto D’s body and started licking the pre deposited there. He put Dandelion’s cock head in his mouth when he was done cleaning up the other offerings. He sucked and sucked with increasing focus, rotating one of his free hands around and up and down D’s mammoth shaft. It was slick with god juice now… slippery with clear nectar milked from the insides of a deity. He extended his arm up to Dandelion’s chest and twisted his left nipple, hard and waiting for abuse. “Fuuuuuuuuuck, Master!” Dantalion bellowed - Trevor’s mouth popped off of his djinn’s cock and watched in amazement as volley after volley of cum shot out and onto the wall behind them. After about 10 hard shots over D’s shoulders and head, the orgasm started to calm down and a slow trickle of cum issued from his softening cock. It was a lot of cum. The stayed together, panting, sweating… “You have asked me not to use my power for this experience. It is, without questions, the greatest experience of my long existence. But, Master, I would like to show you something - by far the most sacred place for any djinn. I would like you to see what you have done for me. May I please use my power to show you?” Dandelions bowed his head, submissively and looked away. He was so uncomfortable asking for anything, even that he be given access again to his natural source of power. “Of course, D. Moving forward, please be at ease asking me for whatever you desire. I have tried to make that clear, but maybe I need to be more exacting in what I say. Please do not hesitate to request, ask, or question.” The djinn looked concerned. He was not used to this sort of intimacy in a bond - ever. For all he knew, no Bound had ever given his djinn so much freedom or autonomy. “Yes, Trevor. I will be more free with my … requests.” His perfectly plumped lips mouthing the words softly, sensually. “I would ask that we…” He paused. “I request that we have sex again as soon as we are able. That experience was transcendental, Master. I would like to have that feeling all of the time.” “I have spoken directly into your mind a while ago. I should not have done that without your consent… I wanted to show you one of my new gifts. One you bestowed upon me when… we made love or fucked, or whatever you would like to call it.” D closed his eyes again out of shame. “You wanted to show me something, something sacred to you. Take me to this place. Take me to where you were dreaming just a bit ago.” Trevor had worked his way up the growing djinn’s body and had draped his right leg over the hulking mass of Dandelions waist and legs. He nuzzled into the space between D’s chest and his outstretched arm. He lay his head on D’s shoulder just above his arm pit. They fit perfectly. Two puzzle pieces, together, Warmed by each other. Cum drying all around them. Smells of sex, the salty funk of ejaculate permeating the air. Testosterone coming out of every pore of both. “Ok, Master.” “And D, I give you access to my thoughts. I know that is a huge step for you, and there are secret and dark doors in my mind, but that is to be human - we all have thoughts and things that we are not proud of. That said, I will allow you to speak to my mind and I would like to be able to speak to yours.” “Master, is it not clear that you already do?” Dantalion’s enlarged hard body squeezed itself just slightly around his Bound. The thoughts and feelings of hearing the words “I love you, Dantalion” seeping into his mind.

Part 4 – The Hollywood Hunk Chapter 12 It was a month and a half after we kissed on a red carpet, and Jason’s shoot, which had dragged on long past its initial three-month schedule, was finally finishing up. By this point, we were basically living together. He was my home, after all. Each of us still had our own place, but we almost never slept alone. I’d been writing like a maniac—coming close to finishing the tenth Death Knell and another Vaughn one-off romance. Life felt sweet and perfect. Over breakfast one morning, he dropped a script in my lap. “What’s this?” I asked. “Read it. I have a question, followed by a conundrum.” I read the script right then, in one sitting, and fell in love with it. “You’re playing Scott?” I asked. “I was asked to play Scott, and I’d absolutely love to.” “Great. What’s the question?” “I’m already signed up for the sequel to this superhero film. I’m contractually obligated to do it. The sequel doesn’t start shooting for six months. The shooting for this movie falls right in the middle of that six months. I was supposed to use that six months for things like doing talk shows and taking auditions, and I thought another chunk of it could be a real vacation. If I do this movie, the timing gets tight, and we can kiss the vacation goodbye.” I nodded, encouraging him to continue. “They don’t want superhero-sized Jason Prentiss. They want normal-sized Jason Prentiss.” “Yeah, Scott couldn’t be as big as you.” “So, I’d have ten weeks to lose 30 pounds of muscle for a movie with a 10-day shoot. Then, I’d have 4 months to put those 30 pounds back on.” “You could definitely do that.” Jason ran to the cabinet and grabbed the bag of pretzels he’d hidden in my hall closet. As he began eating, he said, “I know I could, but, honestly, I don’t know if I want to put my body through that hell. I don’t mind putting in the effort to keep the extra muscle mass. In fact, if my agent would let me and if I physically could, I’d blow up bigger than you, even. But to lose and gain so much in one year—that scares me.” He grabbed another handful of pretzels from the bag. I took the bag away from him and put it back in the closet. “I think it’d be worth it to do this movie.” “I do too.” “Where’s the film shooting?” “Here in LA. Well, just outside of the city for budget reasons.” “Then I have a suggestion,” I said. “Every morning, you lend me 30 pounds of muscle, and every evening when you get home, I give it back. Then, at the end of the shoot, I give you back your muscle. Voila.” “I can’t ask you to do that. And it’ll kill our sex life. This would be every day for the two weeks I’m shooting. On top of that, you’d have to take a deposit any time I have an appearance during that whole six month period—I have meetings and press to do. I’d have to look like I slowly lost 30 pounds and then slowly put it back on.” I went through his objections like bullet points. “You didn’t ask me; I volunteered. We’re not doing it for sex. In fact, during this whole process, we won’t have sex while I’m taking a deposit from you. And I’m fine with making it look like you slowly lost and gained. I’ve done it before; it won’t be hard to do it again. You kept me out of the spotlight, and I am very grateful for that.” “That’s the thing, too. You won’t be able to leave the house or anything like that. People will get suspicious.” “I’m wrapping up two novels at the moment,” I reminded him. “I was barely going to leave the house anyways. The only work-related people I meet with are Natalie and H. K., and they stopped asking questions about my muscles years ago. As for friends, my local friends are used to my fluctuating size, and Jonah and Shafe know I’m The Repository. I say go for it.” “Really?” “I would say go for it even if you had to put yourself through hell for six months ‘cause I’d be right beside you helping you through it. This way, at least I can make it easier on you.” When the superhero movie wrapped, we started our plan. Jason essentially moved in to my condo for the first three months; it was just easier that way. He had 70 days to lose 30 pounds of muscle. So, every day before he left the condo, he would lend me some muscle. We started with half a pound, and then increased that by half a pound every day until I was borrowing 30 pounds from him, topping out at 315 for me (and bottoming out at 185 for Jason). Natalie either didn’t notice or didn’t care. H. K. noticed, but he knew Jason liked guys with big muscles, so he teased me that I was getting even more huge for Jason. He wasn’t entirely wrong. It was actually fun being 315 pounds for 8-12 hours a day. I would stalk around the condo, feeling my size that much bigger than I was used to. I even adjusted to typing with biceps so big they fought my pecs. You’d be surprised how fast you can adapt. I’m also not going to lie; I masturbated a lot at 315 pounds. For one, it was a great way to clear my mind when I struggled with my writing. For another, I was fucking huge and fucking gorgeous. It kind of felt like playing a naughty game of dress up. Then, my man would come home. Super sexy, svelte Jason Prentiss like I’d seen him onscreen. I’d give him back his muscles, and he’d swell up into my Vancouver superhero. Jason had been worried this would hurt our sex life, but it didn’t. We never had sex when I was taking a deposit, but seeing each other blow up with mass on a regular basis helped our libidos. It was a fun three months. When the shoot for the independent movie ended, though, our fun hit a snag. Jason had come home from the film’s final day of shooting with a solemn look on his face with just a hint of “holding back a pout.” He’d had a similar face when the superhero movie had wrapped, so I just assumed that the face he was making was his “I just finished shooting a movie” face. However, it was his, “I’m thinking deeply” face. Because he was, in fact, thinking deeply. I’d given him back his deposit, we’d had a silent dinner, and then had a silent evening where I wrote and he sat silently—he didn’t even read. He just sat silently. After too long of this silence, I turned to him and said, “Okay, what’s up?” “We have a problem, Miles, and I don’t know how to solve it.” “It can’t be that big of a problem.” “They’ve hired Curtis again to help me bulk back up.” “We expected something like this,” I said. “We’re just going to do the first solution in reverse. I borrow less and less from you every day. And, likely, by the end of it, you’ll have put on even more than 30 pounds.” “That’s not the problem,” he said. “There was a clause… I never thought they would actually … I signed the contract before we even met!” Jason wasn’t finishing any of his thoughts, so I had to drag it out of him. “What clause? What contract? Who are ‘they’?” “I’m hungry again,” Jason said. “Want to see if there are any barbecue places open nearby?” “Jason,” I said, rising my tone like a mild scold. “Answer my questions. It’s probably not a big deal.” “The contract for the superhero film. I wasn’t just signing up for a film, I was signing up for a franchise. That’s why I couldn’t say no to the sequel. The studio will sue me for breach.” I nodded. This was all info I already had. “Okay. Now you’ve explained ‘the contract’ and the ‘they.’ What’s ‘the clause?’” “There was a clause giving them permission to monetize studio expenses.” “What does that even mean?” “Curtis costs money. He’s a very expensive personal trainer. The studio’s investing a lot of money in me. So, to recoup some of those costs, if they can turn a source of expense into a source of income, they’re contractually allowed to.” “I still don’t see the issue.” “They offered Curtis a reality show about his celebrity clients. He accepted it. I’m contractually obligated to appear as one of his clients on the show because of a contract I signed before we even met.” “Why is that such a big deal?” “The way they pitched the show, it’s basically a celebrity boot camp. Me and a few other of his celebrity clients are going to live at his compound for three months.” “You’d be on location for three months?” “I know! When I was on location for two weeks, you flipped out so hard that you took a flight to Vancouver. What’s three months apart going to do to us?” I sat calmly and thought about it. “When would you leave?” “In a week.” I nodded and exhaled deeply. “I think I can do it. Last time, you sprung it on me the night before, so I overreacted. Also, last time, it was the day after you said you loved me for the first time. I wasn’t as confident that our relationship was durable. Now, you’re giving me a whole week to process it. And, since we’ve been together for months, I know that when you come back, we’re still together. I think I can do it this time.” “Okay, fine,” Jason said, still at the same high level of anxiety. “But the problem goes beyond that. While we’re at boot camp, there are going to be cameras everywhere.” That was a problem. “Then I can’t just give you back your muscles—there’d be too much chance of me being exposed." "Exactly.” I grunted in frustration. “This all sounds like they’re chasing one expense after another. Will they really make money off this?” “Reality shows have a shoestring budget. They were paying Curtis anyway, and my appearance fee for the reality show was absorbed into my payment for the superhero sequel. They’re essentially getting me—all the celebrities—for nothing. And at the end of three months, they have a product they can sell.” “Does this mean for three months we can’t even call each other? That I can’t do.” “No, we can talk on the phone. You’re even allowed to visit at a few show-approved times, but the place will be swarmed by cameras, and I suspect the phone calls will be recorded.” “This is a problem,” I repeated, this time out loud. “I can’t go in there already a massive 215. There will be too many questions. And I won’t ask you to take a deposit for three months like that. It’s just not fair to you.” “If we can get you a private phone line, we can rig something up. I swear. I have experience in this. Let me talk to Margaret. I’ll visit her at her office. See if she can do something.” The conversation with Margaret did not go well. “The studio wants to record everything except nudity and bathroom business,” she said, shaking her head. “I could get you on the show,” she added. “By reality show definitions, you’re technically a celebrity. In fact, Curtis asked to have you be one of the clients—he says you motivate Jason to get big, and he also thinks more people will watch if there’s a showmance.” The thought of enduring Curtis’s intense and highly effective workout regime for three months while borrowing 30 pounds from Jason whizzed through my head. Curtis had packed 13 pounds on me in one month when I wasn’t borrowing anything. After three months, I’d be lucky if I came out the other side under 500 pounds. Everyone would find out my secret, and I could kiss my normal life goodbye. Margaret kept talking, “But that’s the opposite of what you two want, so I say suck it up for three months. It’s not fun. It’s not entirely fair. But it’s showbiz.” I went back to the condo defeated. When I got there, to my complete surprise, Jason was not alone. Shafe and Marietta were there too—all three of them clearly having a blast, which completely jarred me out of my funk. Jason and Shafe were on the couch. Marietta was in a chair from my breakfast table she’d pulled over to the couch. She was holding Jason’s hand. “Welcome home,” Shafe said, smiling broadly. “Jason, are you okay with this?” I asked. Jason looked natural, calm, and relaxed. “Of course,” he said cheerfully, practically purring. “In fact, I called them over.” I closed the door, grabbed another breakfast table chair, and pulled it over to join them. “I’ve been wanting to meet some more of your friends,” Jason continued, “and without Shafe, we wouldn’t have had our Vancouver vacation.” “No big deal,” Shafe said, patting Jason on the back. “Without that trip, I never would’ve met Marietta.” “She’s reading my palm,” Jason said to me. “I’ve never had a palm reading. You have the most fascinating friends.” “What’s his palm say?” I asked Marietta. “There’s a weird hiccup in his love line in the very near future, but the line looks solid and thorough afterwards.” “You told her about the reality show,” I said. “I did not,” Jason insisted. “I spent most of our conversation asking about her pet ghost.” “Cynthia was a friend, not a pet,” Marietta corrected. “Sorry. I apologize,” Jason responded. “Does his palm say anything else?” I asked. “He’s a creative person who prefers small groups. He’s quiet and intuitive, can be high-strung or sullen at times, and he doesn’t believe in fate. And he’s going to live until he’s at least 95.” “It’s all accurate,” Jason said. “As far as I’m aware. I don’t know when I’m going to die, but the other stuff is all true.” “I’m happy to see you,” I said to Shafe, “don’t get me wrong,” I turned to Jason and asked him, “but why did you call them over?” Shafe answered. “He called me over. Marietta came with. She didn’t want to stay home alone.” “We moved in together,” she said, dancing a little in her chair. “Can you believe it?” Shafe asked. “It was so impulsive. We didn’t consult our horoscopes or anything.” “We just went with our guts,” Marietta said. “You just left Vancouver behind? What about your house? Friends? Family? Your job?” Marietta laughed. “I had a shitty apartment and hated my roommate. My friends were really happy for me. My parents and brothers live in Winnipeg, so I only saw them on holidays anyway. And I’ll have no problem finding a job as a personal trainer in LA.” I shrugged. “Awesome,” I said. “I’m happy for you, Shafe.” “Right? She’s so awesome.” I turned back to Jason. “But, that didn’t really answer my question. Why did you call Shafe over?” “Just to visit. To talk. To think about a solution to our problem.” He subtly pointed to Marietta with his head. “I don’t know if we can talk in the open, though.” Marietta gave Jason his hand back and pinched his cheek. “You’re so cute.” “That’s the third time she’s done that,” Jason said, rubbing his cheek. Marietta turned to me and said, “I know you’re The Repository. If that’s what this is about.” I looked at Shafe, more nervous than angry. “You told?” Shafe looked at me shamefacedly. “She got it out of me.” “How?” Jason asked. Marietta licked her lips. Well, that answered that question. “Why did she even ask?” Jason continued. “I could tell Shafe was keeping a secret. So, I bent him to my will, and he spilled.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “I’m not telling anyone. Don’t worry.” “Okay, so I can talk freely.” Jason sighed. He explained to them our situation. “You redid the TGS scam!” Shafe said cheerfully. “In a sense,” I said. Jason continued. “If—and this is just an if at this point—if I lend Miles the 30 pounds for three months, he is going to be fizzing uncontrollably. Left to his own devices, he’ll just stack on 30 more pounds of muscle with even mild workouts. He’d be a 345-pound behemoth in no time. As damn sexy as he would be, that’s just too much for every day.” He turned to Shafe. “But you got him into meditation. You could help him find his center, and overcome the fizzing, and visualize peace.” “Easy,” Shafe said. “His aura wants him to be huge,” Marietta said, disagreeing. “Be that as it may,” I said, glossing over Marietta’s pronouncement, “my frontal lobe wants me to be able to keep up a modicum of self-control, and I am terrified of people finding out about my ability.” Marietta shrugged. “His Will might overpower his aura. I’ve seen it happen.” Shafe chimed in. “Listen, because of you two, I met the love of my life. I’m all for this if it’s what Vaughn wants.” Meditation to stop the fizzing? It sounded ludicrous, but I had never tried it. The last time the fizzing got bad, I entirely abandoned meditation. “Let’s try it. We’re in this problem in part because I pushed Jason to do that indie film. If I go into this with an open mind, it might just work.” That’s what I said out loud. Inside, I was awash in emotions. I didn’t want Jason to leave for three months, afraid it would hurt too much. I was worried about taking such a large deposit for three months, too. However, there was another emotion, a positive one, and I clung to it. There was an excitement within me that reveled at something very important they overlooked, something which would lead to some excellent vacation sex when Jason got back from shooting Curtis’s show.

Part 4 – The Hollywood Hunk Chapter 11 When it was time for us to leave, Shafe got up early and drove me to the airport, but he didn’t get on the plane with me. “Marietta and I have just started something, and I want to see where it goes,” he said. “Best of luck,” I said and hugged him goodbye. When I got back to my apartment in L.A. later that same night—and I do mean when, as in the exact second—I got a phone call from Margaret Whalen asking me to come by her office. “It’s late, and I’ve been traveling all day,” I said. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” “If it could wait until tomorrow, I wouldn’t be waiting for you in my office.” Grumbling, I left my suitcase at the door and dragged myself to Jason’s PR firm. The meek secretary took me right through the room of beige and brown into Margaret’s office. When I got there, Margaret was typing frantically at her desk, her hair done up in a sloppy bun, garish red-framed glasses on her face—I guess she’d been wearing contacts when we last met. Without looking up from her laptop, she pointed to the seat in front of her desk, where a mug of tea was waiting for me. It was nice that there was tea waiting for me; most people would’ve offered coffee. “It might be cold,” she said, still not looking up. “It took you longer to get here than I expected.” “Traffic,” I said. “Isn’t there always?” she said, shaking her head jovially as though she had made a joke. She still hadn’t looked up from her typing. I politely waited for her to finish typing, but she must have been typing a novel. After sitting in silence for two minutes, I cleared my throat. Still looking down at her laptop screen, she pointed to the tea. At this point, I thought maybe the meeting wouldn’t begin until I tried the tea. It was a little cool, but delicious, just the type I usually made at home—Darjeeling—with just the right amount of honey. I think it was even the same brand I usually bought. When I put the mug down, Margaret moved her laptop to the side and looked me dead in the eyes. “Good tea?” she asked. “Excellent,” I replied. “Well, then,” she said. “Does the name Freddie Wade mean anything to you?” “Should it?” “He works the front desk at the Fairmont in Vancouver.” Jason was staying at the Fairmont. The only person I interacted with there was the guy at the front desk who constantly tipped his hat to me. “Oh. Him.” I shrugged. “What about him?” “A prominent gossip blog that I have an in with was contacted by Freddie Wade. He told them that the same man had come to Jason Prentiss’s hotel room numerous times, often leaving the room the following morning, clearly doing a walk of shame.” “There was no shame involved in my walks,” I responded. “He’s offering pictures to this blog.” “They would just be pictures of me in a lobby. Jason and I didn’t do anything even remotely sexual in public. We didn’t even hold hands. And we made extra certain to clean up anything we did in his room to make sure the maids had nothing to gossip about.” “Rumpled clothing can count as sexual to a gossip blog,” she pointed out. “Did I do something wrong?” I asked. “Not even remotely. However, you did do something inevitable. The fact that you’re dating Jason Prentiss is going to become tabloid news in a matter of hours. The only reason the blog hasn’t published the story yet is because they owed me a favor, and I cashed in.” “You keep talking as though I’m in trouble. Jason and I are two consenting adults. We did nothing wrong.” “Absolutely nothing wrong,” Margaret said emphatically. “But Jason values his private life. He values it so much he pays me obscene gobs of money to keep it as private as it can be. And now, it’s about to become a subject of public discourse.” “Why am I here?” I asked. “We have to handle the situation, or the situation will handle us.” That didn’t answer my question, so I tried a new approach. “What do you need from me?” “There are four options. Really, there are only three, but I’m getting ahead of myself. As they will all require your direct participation, I need to know which of the four we’re going with. I can’t force you to do anything, so the choice has to be yours.” “Okay. So, what’s my first option?” “Option 1 is the non-option, the one that doesn’t really count. We do absolutely nothing. Let it ride. See what happens. If we go that route, there’s a slim chance—winning-the-lottery-while-being-struck-by-lightning slim chance—that no one cares and the story dies because some bigger piece of gossip eclipses it. But the far more likely route is that the worst sort of tabloid reporters and paparazzi track you down to get the scoop.” “That sounds sinister.” “Oh, it is. I found out about Freddie Wade 12 hours ago, and I’ve spent much of those 12 hours researching you; I even hired a P.I. Now, I had a head start because I know your name, address, and phone number, but those aren’t state secrets. Give someone eight weeks and enough financial incentive, and they’ll know more about you than you do. In just my 12 hours of research, I found out a lot about you. Where you went to school, your parents’ names, every speeding ticket you ever got.” She paused, then with a weight in her voice, added, “Your typical grocery store purchases.” “That’s how you knew how I like my tea?” I asked. “Yes. Kind of a practical demonstration. I also learned that you shared your hotel room in Vancouver with a man named Gil Shafer.” I heard a click inside my head. “Oh, is that what this is about? He’s just a friend of mine. He has been for 10 years. More importantly, he’s straight.” “You misunderstand. This isn’t about facts. This is about facts that, without explanation, will cause a casual viewer to draw the wrong conclusion. And TMZ only has casual viewers. You signed in at a hotel in Canada with one man, and then were seen having romantic encounters with Jason. And at the Fairmont, you used the name Miles Uhler, but that is not your legal name.” “Yeah. Jason knows that. Miles Uhler is my pen name. I told you this when we first met.” “You don’t see the potential for scandal? Secret names! Mysterious men! It’s got all the pieces to elicit curiosity. If we do nothing, they can track down every last scrap of your life.” “But I doubt they’ll track me down as easily as you did. I trust my friends to keep my secrets. I don’t do social media. I’m a very private person.” Margaret sighed in exasperation. “That’s actually worse. If they can’t track you down quickly enough, they’ll simply make things up.” “Like what?” “You’re a large, muscular man, Miles. The rumors will immediately be steroids. And since Jason just went through that transformation for the superhero movie, they’ll all conclude that Jason’s on steroids too.” “But he’s not. I’m not.” “They don’t care. In a gossip rag, the scent of impropriety is the same as guilt. And then, because you’re both gay men, they’ll accuse you of far worse than illegal drugs. Need I name specifics?” “Ok, so that option is out.” “Glad we agree.” “What’s the next option?” “Likely, it’s equally repellent to you, but I have to put it on the table because it’s literally my job. Option 2 is that we turn you into a star.” “What?” “You’re a wealthy, muscular, and handsome man. You’re a bestselling author of a beloved YA franchise. You’re dating an A-list movie star. I could sell that reality show to Netflix, Bravo, or AppleTV before I went to bed tonight. Maybe all three. We’d call it Mr. Write or some other odious pun. People would watch just for a chance to snatch a peek at Jason. We could even get this Gil Shafer to come on the show, prove that he’s just a heterosexual friend, clear the whole thing up, and make a little money out of the infotainment. Is Mr. Shafer as photogenic as you? I didn’t bother to Google him because I assumed it was another fake name.” “It’s his real name. He’s a sweet guy. We met while I was still in college. He’s a bodybuilder training for Olympia. He’s the one who showed me how to professionally lift and get seriously big. He comes from money, and he’s obsessed with psychic phenomena, the occult, and the supernatural.” Margaret googled him quickly. “Okay, he’d be a main cast member. Every episode would feature a scene of you and Mr. Shafer at the gym working out together—shirtless. In one episode, you’d throw a book launch party filled with fabulous people. In another episode, Mr. Shafer would host a séance. In the season finale, you’d have some Hollywood meeting, and there’d be a cameo in the episode by Jason.” Margaret paused, surprised how quickly that all formed. Then, she added, “I’d watch this show.” “Is this really your favorite option?” “If you were my client, yes. But Jason’s my client. If you took this option, you’d spend less time with him, and he’d withdraw from you because you betrayed his trust. You’d likely break up within three months. Jason’s more profitable when he’s happy. But, more importantly, I like him, and I want him happy. Option 2 would break his heart.” “Good, because I hate Option 2.” After shaking my head, I asked, “Option 3?” “We have the two of you do a circuit of morning shows. The audience gets to see you, gets to see that there’s nothing unseemly going on, and that keeps them happy. It will likely spill over into a puff piece in a magazine or two, and soon, you’re as non-famous as Jim Toth or Romain Douriac. People can find you on Google, but only if they’re already looking.” “Is this your favorite option?” I asked. “I like it better than the other two. But, there’s a possible consequence I’m none too keen on. There’s a chance the two of you become a Brangelina or a Bennifer, and then the press would swamp you if you even set foot out of your houses. Normally, it wouldn’t be a very big chance, but with Jason’s status as one of the sexiest men in Hollywood and a man as striking and handsome as you who’s already marginally famous, the chances go up. The fact that you’re charming, witty, and quick on your feet—I’d call it a 50/50 coin toss. As Jason’s PR rep, I don’t like the odds. It’s not the press we want for him.” “Option 4?” “You show up on Jason’s arm at one very high-profile event, and then kiss him in front of a whole bunch of cameras, and then exit immediately without saying a word. Jason then explains to the press who you are, and because he’s built up this wall of privacy over eight years in the industry, the press know not to ask any follow-ups if they want him vivacious and lively for the cameras. From then on, you can be the silent guy who’s on his arm at the occasional event, and only the lowest of the low will pursue the gossip, and mainstream publications will shame them for trying.” “This sounds risky.” “Because of the groundwork Jason’s already laid, the risk is surprisingly minimal. The only real risk is if you have any skeletons in your closet that might come out somewhere down the line. If you do, tell me now.” I sighed and told her how I scammed Rhodes and Steele out of a hundred grand with my college boyfriend. “What are these men’s first names?” she asked pragmatically, her fingers poised to start researching. “I never learned them. They were just two rich jackasses I went to college with.” “You went to Crocker, right?” she asked. “Yes. You’ve definitely researched me.” “Impressive, by the way. Full scholarship.” She was typing while she said that. “Okay. Considering your graduation date, that would be Michael Rhodes and Otis Steele.” “His name is Otis? I could’ve been calling him Otis this whole time?” “Yeah, they’re not going to be a problem. They started a health foods conglomerate called Metal Colossus.” “They’re Metal Colossus? I buy their oatmeal.” I felt disappointed with myself. “Yes, that’s them. They’re the co-CEOs of that particular health food and supplement empire. If it became public that their first product was a scam, they’d be in serious jeopardy. You’re safe from them.” Without a pause, Margaret continued. “And what was the name of the man you performed this scam with?” “Trevor Flynn,” I said. “No problem there, either. I’ve looked him up online a few times out of curiosity. He’s the head of an investment fund worth hundreds of millions, maybe billions. He wouldn’t want to be associated with this scandal either.” “And you dated him?” “He basically proposed to me.” “And that’s your only skeleton?” “Skeleton, yes. I have other secrets, though. I have some books published under another pen name, but nothing I’d class as a skeleton.” “Any sexual items from your past I should be aware of? No judgment here—I just have to protect Jason.” “I’ve had a lot of one night stands, but most of them knew nothing about me. Some didn’t know my first name.” “Good to know. In the wrong hands, that could be a weapon. Just to quantify, how much is a lot?” “Dozens?” I didn’t count. “Okay.” She sounded a little worried, and a hair impressed. Then, I added, “If it matters, some of those men were strippers. Oh! I dated a stripper for a few months, but he’s currently teaching ballet to children in Florida. I doubt he’d want that fact to see the light of day.” “Thank you for telling me, but I doubt that will raise many eyebrows. People care more about sex acts that are deemed bizarre or shocking.” I shrugged. “I had a three-way in high school.” “What were the men’s names?” “One was Jonah Patterson-Moore. He’s married and has two kids. I’m still friends with him. I’m also friends with his husband Cole. And his kids are delightful.” “We’ll have no problem from him.” “No, we will not. The other man was Gregg Conner. The first name ends in two Gs.” Margaret finished typing and hit enter. “Gregg Conner who played quarterback for Illinois State Gregg Conner?” “Did he end up playing college football? Good for him.” “He had an impressive college career and was set to go pro, but he injured his shoulder and blew his chance to be recruited.” “I don’t think he’ll be a problem either.” “Glad to hear. But from hearing these stories, I really wish you’d said yes to reality TV.” The conversation went on like this for two hours. At the end of it, Margaret said, “To sum it up, here’s my pitch. Jason gets back from Vancouver tomorrow. The movie he shot before he met you is having its premiere. You ride in the limo with him, you help him out of the car like a proper gentleman, and just when the press thinks you’re a new bodyguard, you kiss him goodbye and get back in the limo. The kiss needs to be steamy enough to register as romantic, but chaste enough to be played on morning talk shows.” “If I must, and if Jason agrees.” “Let’s call him.” She took off her glasses and picked up her phone. Jason picked up after only two rings. The conversation went so quickly that even though Jason was responding, she never paused for more than half a second. “Jason, yes, it’s Margaret. Miles is in my office, and we have to go public like we discussed. Yes. He went with Option 4, just like you predicted. The red carpet on Friday. Tuxes. You too, sweetie.” She hung up, put her glasses back on, and looked at me. “It’s all settled. If things go cockeyed and there’s need for more PR, I’ll be in touch. Otherwise, have a sweet night.” In what felt like two seconds later, it was Friday night and I was on that red carpet, kissing Jason, blinded by a million lights. The photo went viral on Twitter for a few hours, but Jason was quick to squelch discussion of his romantic life, and it went exactly as Margaret laid out. Exactly. Eerily so, as if she’d orchestrated it. The following morning—a Saturday—the photo was even shown on some weekend morning shows that referred to me as “Mystery Man Miles.” My closest friends recognized me, of course. I got a string of humorous texts and calls. Shafe texted, “Dude! Ur b-friend is Jason Prentiss? U ! Marietta wants a signed pic!” Natalie asked if we could parlay this news into a movie deal, and I laughed so hard she knew it meant a no. H. K. texted, “You two are adorable together! Dinner Thursday?” Jonah called and, among other things, let me know that, “Cole will be disappointed. Jason Prentiss is his hall pass.” Then, he joked in a mock-threat, “Keep your man away from my man.” Even my parents called. They were more confused over why the news was calling me “Miles,” but there was no hostility from them, so it was a nice call—the nicest I’d had in years. After a week, no one in the media really cared about it anymore. Instead, when Jason went on talk shows—because he had to—they asked about his workouts, if he had any funny stories about his co-stars, insipid things like that. And our life went back to semi-normal.

Part 4 – The Hollywood Hunk Chapter 10 The first of our three scheduled nights together, I knocked on Jason’s door at the appointed time. I was wearing a gray flannel suit and tie (which was made for a man who was overweight, not muscular, but I’d had enough time to have it tailored). It did look a little off, I must admit. Jason opened the door, and said, “Come on in, Miles.” With a small chuckle, he added, “Nice suit. Guess you take the size you can get on such short notice.” I kissed him hello and said, “I’ve got a fun scenario for tonight, but for it to work, I’m going to have to handcuff you to a chair.” He pulled a chair into the middle of the room and daintily sat in it. I moved his hands behind his back and handcuffed him, threading the chain between the slats of the chair. “Can you get free?” “Nope,” he said, struggling to release himself. “Excellent,” I said. I positioned the chair so he was looking at the bathroom door; then, I went into the bathroom but left the door open a crack. “Now you’re going to have to lend me 30 pounds,” I called from the bathroom. I could hear a quiet note of reluctance, but then he cleared his throat and confidently said, “You can borrow 30 pounds.” In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I could feel the suit becoming tighter, especially at the pecs and shoulders as they ballooned outwards. I’d had the suit tailored, but the tailor took my measurements while I was borrowing 30 pounds from Shafe. As I grew bigger, the suit was becoming more and more flattering to my shape and size. My pecs felt ponderously heavy, and my shoulders pressed the suit out into an even more impressive width, pulling the lapels further apart. Jason’s muscles felt warm and familiar, like a lover’s caress, but from the inside. My pecs jutted out just a bit further, and my neck thickened, so I loosened and readjusted the tie so it wasn’t choking me and lay over my pec cliff more appropriately. While I did that, though, I could feel my arms bulging further, thicker, encased in the fabric of the suit, I could see my mass fill the sleeve, distorting the fabric, showing off all the brawn that was underneath. I had to adjust my pants, too, as my ass and thighs thickened. Before, my pants had just fit my mass, but now they were swollen with my muscles, sweeping out into curves and my thighs pressed in further against each other, and my ass pushed further out. My face also thickened just a little bit. It always did when I passed 300. And, I was now 310 pounds of man. Before I went back into the room, I had some finishing touches. I put on a pair of glasses (with no lenses). I combed my hair rigidly into a 1950s side part, and then licked a finger and put a curl over my forehead. Then, I burst into the room, pretending to break open the bathroom door. “I’m here to rescue you,” I said heroically. Jason immediately got the reference and laughed heartily. “Save me, Miles,” he cried, playing along. “Or should I say Clark Kent?” “Miles will do,” I answered, shuffling into his room. Breaking character, Jason said, “You know, I’m not playing Superman.” “I know that. But I don’t know anything about the superhero you are playing. If it was Spider-man, I’d be all over it, but since I didn’t know the specifics of your franchise, I figured I’d go for a tried and true classic.” “If you were really trying to be Superman, you would’ve shaved your beard.” “Please, Superman’s had a beard in dozens of comics. If you’re going to read me for anything, read me for not dying my hair black.” Jason laughed hard again. “If this is too goofy for you, we can just cut right to the sex,” I said. “No, no. Sorry. You clearly put effort into this. I’m game.” “Good,” I said. “Because it’s not Miles who’s here to save you.” I took off my glasses and tossed them to the side. I swung my tie to the side, and tore open my dress shirt, buttons flying everywhere. I revealed a blue Lycra shirt with a Superman logo underneath. My pecs jutted out magnificently, caressed by the stretchy material, full to overflowing, distorting the logo and stretching its shape. I tore off the rest of the suit revealing a pair of tights the same shade of blue, and now a size too small for me. My legs bulged mightily; my ass stuck out proudly. Every sinew and curve of my arms was highlighted; each flex and bulge caused the material to expand and contract. Jason sat there, stunned in silence. He’d never seen me so big, and I was behemoth. “Don’t fear,” I said, returning to my hero voice. “These shackles won’t stop me.” I reached behind him, my pecs pressing into his face. I grabbed the chain of the handcuffs and began pulling in opposite directions. My chest hardened and flexed further into Jason’s face, my arms bulged with exertion, pushing him from either side, almost squeezing him. My face turned red with the effort, and a thin sheen of sweat formed on my forehead. Then, the chain snapped. I stepped back, and Jason moved his arms to the front, each still cuffed, but the chain ripped in two. “You saved me,” he said, awe-struck at the feat of strength. “How can I ever repay you?” He said. As he stood, he slipped off his shirt. At his diminished size, Jason was still a fit man. This was the Jason Prentiss I’d seen in the movies: toned, with just a little mass but a six-pack to die for. “All in the line of duty, sir,” I said. “In that case,” Jason said, slowly lowering his pants and briefs until he stood there naked, “Perhaps you can save me from my loneliness.” “That I can do,” I said, smiling at his cheesy, but porn-accurate, delivery. I pulled off the shirt. As it reached my pecs, Jason shouted, “Oh my god!” and pointed at my abs. I rubbed the cobblestone path with my right hand. “Whenever I take a deposit,” I said, “whoever I borrowed it from, their physique affects mine.” I moved my hand away, and my tighter waist and fully etched, impossibly hard 8-pack were revealed. “You lent me your 8-pack, stud.” I returned to my hero voice, saying “Do not fear, citizen, I shall protect you from your loneliness.” I took the shirt all the way off, and my pecs heaved and bounded. I peeled off the tights, revealing I’d had no underwear on underneath and that my cock was hard. I picked Jason up, carried him to the bed, and joined him on it. “Oh, please,” he cooed. “You’ve done so much to save me. Let me do this for you.” With that, he began licking my abs, giving them a thorough tongue bath, not neglecting a single inch. Once he’d coated my abs in saliva, he lubed up his cock and pressed it into me. I flexed my pecs and arms for him, and he rode me hard and good. Soon, I was coming all over myself, shouting so loudly I was worried they’d call the hotel guards, and then Jason joined me soon after, letting loose the most vile profanity I’d ever heard. We fucked each other twice more, once with me on top, and then began spooning, exhausted and fulfilled. “I’m sorry I ever doubted this game,” he said. “If you’re not having fun and laughing during sex,” I responded, “you’re doing it wrong.” Soon after, his alarm beeped, so I returned his muscle, put the suit back on, and made my way home, nodding and smiling at the man at the front desk who’d seen me the first time I left Jason’s room after a fuck session. He waved at me in recognition, and I went back to my hotel. The second of our three scheduled visits, I showed up to Jason’s room in normal date clothes: a burnt orange sweater that flattered my chest and charcoal black pants. In Jason’s room there was a table we’d been using for our lunch and dinner dates pushed up against the wall. I pulled it into the center of the room, then went back to his door where a room service attendant was waiting. He brought in the food, and then quickly exited. Then, I turned on two lamps on opposite side of the room and shined them at our table. The whole time I was setting up, Jason asked a litany of questions. “No costume this time? No hello kiss? No hint at what’s to come?” Once I had completely set the stage, I escorted him to our table and kissed his hand. “No costume this time, but,” I tapped my ear; I was wearing a blue tooth earpiece. “Are you receiving commands from HQ?” he asked. In my ear, I heard, “You can borrow 10 pounds.” In my seat, while Jason was still trying to figure out what was happening, I suddenly swelled 10 pounds heavier—my pecs pushed out, my arms swelled thicker. Jason smiled in appreciation. “Dinner and a show. You spoil me.” “Before my relationship with Puck fizzled out,” I said, “he showed me that there is an online community of men who would give me their muscles for no other reason than erotic role play fantasies. I haven’t used this community in almost a decade, but I let them know I was back for one night only, and I had more sign-ups than I could count.” “So, how much bigger did you just get?” Jason was looking me over. He could tell I was bigger, but he couldn’t ascertain all the differences or the plan of the evening. “Just 10,” I answered. “Just 10?” He sounded disappointed. “The night’s just begun,” I said, taking his hand. “Let’s enjoy dinner, and see where the evening takes us.” Conversation dove into our normal topics, mostly what we did that day. We tapped our knees against each other’s under the table. It was a lovely dinner. Ten minutes later, while Jason was mid-sentence, I heard in my earpiece, “You can borrow ten pounds.” As Jason continued telling his story about a funny thing he heard in the make-up trailer, I swelled even bigger. By this point, my sweater was getting tight around my pecs, and I was pushing out the fabric so far that it was actually getting stuck between the cleft between my pecs. My arms, similarly, were being strangled by the sleeves. I could feel my pants begin to choke my ass, but Jason couldn’t see that as we sat. “Did you just get bigger?” Jason asked, stopping his story. “Indeed, I did.” I flexed my biceps for him and then bounced my pecs one by one. Jason just stared for a moment, then said, “You get more beautiful the bigger you get.” “Then it’s going to be a beautiful night,” I thought, but said nothing out loud. Our conversation continued on, we finished our dinners, and we were enjoying each other’s company. Ten minutes later, while I was sharing a story about Shafe and Marietta, I heard in my earpiece, “You can borrow ten pounds.” As I spoke, my pecs grew even bigger, my arms and shoulders swelled thicker, and my ass got so full and muscular that I could feel the seam splitting the cheeks into separate globes of power. “It just happened again,” Jason said. “You’re going to burst right out of the sweater.” “Good point,” I said, and I pulled the sweater over my head. I had to wriggle and tug, but the material was stretchy, so it got off comparatively easy to other costumer choices I considered. “In fact,” I said, standing up. This gave Jason the full eyeful of how my thighs had swelled outwards, thickened into columns of steel. I’d never seen his eyes so wide. My pants were harder to get off, but I got them off without his help, and he enjoyed watching me struggle. I sat back down at the table, in my underwear, and then I went to finish the story that my growth had interrupted. “No,” Jason said. “I can’t wait anymore. What is the plan for tonight?” “Well, as of right now, I am 310 pounds. That’s how big I got last time.” I pointed to my thick, padded 6-pack and added, “But none of my depositors had an 8-pack like you, sorry.” “No apology necessary. Don’t apologize for bulk and mass.” “You may have noticed that when we sat down, and every ten minutes afterwards, I’ve gotten just a little bit bigger.” “May have? It’s all I can think about.” “I set it up so that every ten minutes, I get another ten-pound deposit. I’ll keep swelling up bigger and bigger all night.” “Jesus, Miles. How big are you going to get?” “I figured an hour of teasing you would be sufficient.” Jason started doing math. “0 minutes, 10 minutes… so that’s seven. 70 pounds. Sweet lord. Plus, your already inhuman 285, that’ll be…” “355,” I finished for him. “Before tonight, the biggest I’ve ever been—and I mean ever—was 345 pounds. I’m going to get a whole ten pounds bigger than I’ve ever gotten for you.” Jason made incoherent sounds of approval, and we moved over to his couch so we could sit more comfortably. He leaned against my mass, his hand absently stroking my chest and abs, running his fingers through my body hair. I had my arm around his shoulder, and I occasionally ran my hand through his hair or squeezed his pec appreciatively. We could each feel the other’s love radiate from deep within. As we sat there, every ten minutes, I got another 10 pound deposit and swelled just that bit thicker. Just that bit bigger. Just that bit more massive. When the last deposit hit me, I felt like an otherworldly beast. Jason helped me to my feet, and my center of balance was so far off that I stumbled a few halting steps forward when I finally exerted enough mass to stand. Jason walked over to me, and we compared our bodies. My superhero-big boyfriend looked like a little child next to me—I had over 100 pounds of muscle than he did. We couldn’t compare similar body parts anymore. I had to compare my arm to his leg, my leg to his chest, etc., because my body was so thickly dense with muscle that our bodies didn’t even look like the same species anymore. My chest jutted out so far that my chin hit it if I lowered my head even slightly. With every breath, my pecs heaved mightily and bounded a little on the exhale. Each individual pec was practically as big as Jason’s chest, and each was ribbed with sinews and pumped full, plump, and round. My pecs were so massive that my nipples pointed down, and I could see nothing below them unless I leaned far forward. If I flexed my pecs to their full magnificence, they pushed up on my chin and spread in every direction. My shoulders were so broad that I knew there was no way I was getting out of this room until I gave the deposits back. In my peripheral vision, without even looking side to side, I could see my shoulders. They were a fixture in my vision now. My neck too had thickened mightily. I could feel its thick cords, and when I reached up to feel it, maneuvering around my pecs as they got in the way, I could feel it was as slightly thicker than my head. My lats added to my width—they pushed my arms out to an extreme that there was no way I could rest my arms by my side. My arms weren’t helping the situation. Even unflexed, my arms were so thick that they were the size of Jason’s head, and when I flexed, when I forced my thick forearms into the proper angle as they fought my biceps, the muscles swelled so huge that the peaks practically touched my earlobes. The triceps were ridged, the horseshoe shape etched hard in, and they stuck out so far that I felt like I had arms attached to my arms. From this incredibly thick top, I tapered down into a small waist. It had thickened considerably out of biological necessity, but it was disproportionately small for a man as giant as me, if ever a thing had existed. My abs were thick as bricks, the shadows between the individual muscles a deep black, practically Vantablack. My Adonis belt and obliques were straight, harsh lines, drawing attention down my treasure trail right to my cock. I had Jason take some pictures on my phone of my back, just so I could see how swollen, thick, and bloated with muscle it was. It barely looked like a human back: it looked like a side of beef you could buy at a butcher’s market, sinuous and corded, red with pumping blood and effort. It, too, tapered down to my small waist, but from the back, the taper was mind-staggering and impossible to fully process all at once. My shoulders and lats were seemingly three times as wide as my waist. The fact that that tiny structure supported the vast mass of my top demonstrated just how strong my ab muscles were. My ass was similarly beyond human. It was round and firm. It stuck out so far that, when I sat on any surface, I felt six inches taller than I normally did. It felt like there was a cushion of muscle on everything I sat. Essentially, there was. It was rock hard and sultry, and Jason could not keep his hands off it. Jason had larger than average hands for a man his size—most men in Hollywood do—but when he held my ass, they seemed small and dainty. And when he grabbed my ass with all his might, he couldn’t dent it. And when I flexed my ass into full relief, it bowled him over backwards, practically knocking him off his feet. My thighs were thicker than anything he’d ever seen. Even walking across the room, I had to waddle like a penguin just to get my legs around each other. One of my legs was practically the size of his torso. If he wasn't such a muscular man himself, it would have been the size of his torso (or even bigger). And the veins and fibers and sinews were all there, especially when I flexed it into full relief. I had titanicly large legs, and I could see that Jason wanted to be crushed in them. We had multiple fucks that night too, and for all but one of them, Jason took the lead, knowing that I was too blown up and muscle blimped out to engage as fully as I usually did. The one time I did take the lead, I held him up against the wall one-handed—so high up that I could reach his cock while standing. I held him there and blew him until he came. Then, I continued to hold him there while I jacked myself off. I had to lean to the side to get my biceps around my pecs so I could reach my cock. In fact, if I didn’t have nine inches of cock, I don’t think I could’ve reached it. For that round of fucking that night, I must have held him up one-handed for half an hour. When I set him back down, any fatigue I felt was from the orgasm than from holding him up. When we’d fucked ourselves out, I wrapped my giant muscles around him, and we fell asleep. As scheduled, I didn’t give the deposits back until the next morning. Jason said it was the best night of sleep he ever got, swaddled in the giganticness of the man he loved. When I went downstairs the next morning, still in the same clothes I’d worn the night before (although they were stretched out), the man at the front desk smiled slyly and tipped his hat. The last of our three scheduled visits, I was in Jason’s room waiting for him when he got back from the shoot. The room was dimly lit, and there was ambient music playing. “So, this is why Lacey told me to shower on set before I got back to the hotel,” Jason said. “It is indeed,” I responded. I was wearing a rich blue button-down shirt (the top three buttons undone to show off my chest) and sharp black dress pants. And, of course, a bow tie. “Dance with me,” I invited. “I’m not a very good dancer,” he responded, coming over to me. I took his hand and placed my head on his shoulder. “Slow dancing. Just the two of us holding close, slow dancing to the beautiful music. No choreography. Just swaying side to side while holding each other.” “That does sound sweet,” he said. He stepped closer in to me, our bodies pressing together. Instinctually, like a magnet drawn to metal, Jason got as close to me as he could. As soon as our pelvises made contact, Jason jumped back. “What’s that?” he asked. “That’s me. That’s all me.” Jason looked down. The black pants and dim lighting had obscured it, but now that he was looking, he could see the deposit I’d taken from Alphonse. My crotch protruded obscenely, nearly bursting the front of my pants. “You didn’t tell me you could do this!” “Special circumstances only,” I said. “I’ll fill you in on the details later. For now, let’s just dance.” “How big is it?” Jason asked, running his hand over the bulge, feeling the cock beneath it slowly thicken at his attention. “Bigger than any man you’ve ever had,” I said, slightly bragging. “Not King Kong huge, but when erect, a full 12 inches.” Jason breathed heavily, and he involuntarily shook a little bit. “Did you just cum?” Jason blushed a little bit, then looked at me, “Did you hear me swear?” “No.” “Then I didn’t orgasm. But I came very close.” “Good. I do plan on making you cum.” I paused as we repositioned ourselves to dance. “But first,” I continued, “let’s keep dancing.” With my head on his shoulder, his arm around me, our bodies close together, we swayed back and forth to the music. The whole time, my hardening cock ground into his crotch, which stiffened in kind. When he knew the song, Jason sang along, serenading me with his velvety voice. When he didn’t, we just kissed passionately as we swayed back and forth. After we danced for at least twenty minutes, I could tell Jason was getting antsy, so I took a step back and signaled with my eyes that he could take off my pants. He tore his shirt off, throwing it across the room, and then dropped down to his knees. He unbuckled my belt, popped the button, and unzipped. Each step felt deliberate and dedicated. He was taking his time. When he pulled down my pants, they were momentarily caught on the expanse of my ass, but a little tugging got them down. In front of him, Jason saw my cock, still sheathed by my bright red boxer briefs. I hadn’t cum in nearly two days before I took the deposit, so my balls were thick and pendulous, pushing out the fabric of the briefs, causing the front to sag. My cock was still just a chubby, but it was insatiably huge, its impressive girth and length easily seen in the sheath of fabric separating it from Jason. He traced his fingers along my shaft, only to laugh in delighted surprise. “It’s not fully hard yet,” he announced. “Not yet,” I said. “I can change that,” Jason declared. He took the waist of my briefs in hand and slowly slid them down. These too got caught on my ass, but the bigger challenge was getting them over the hurdle of my fat cock. With finesse and care, Jason rose to the challenge, and released my beast. It swung free, nearly hitting him in the face. He laughed again, backing up just a little bit so it had room to move. “This is beautiful,” he remarked, the dimple deepening in his cheek as he smiled. “You haven’t seen everything yet,” I teased. Jason pulled my briefs down the rest of the way, and my balls, pushed forward by my muscular thighs, rebounded and bounced. He took them in his hand, and both could not fit in one hand. He lifted them cautiously, and it took more effort than he expected. “Heavy,” he commented. “And full,” I replied. Jason pressed his nose against my balls, breathing in my musk, tracing a line with his face from my sac to my bush. “Heavy,” Jason said, referring to the scent this time. I flexed my thigh, which brushed against his face. “Everything about me is heavy,” I reminded him. He took the tip of my cock into his mouth. It was significantly thicker than he was used to, but he could fit it in. He began teasing it with his tongue, and tickling my balls with his hands. In response to his devotion, my cock began fully hardening, lengthening, stiffening, which required him to open his jaw wide and stretch his lips. He murmured in joy that the cock was almost too big for him to keep in his mouth. At my normal 9 inches, Jason could deep throat me no problem. At a foot, and excessively thick, my cock proved a challenge. He breathed heavily through his nose, his eyes watering, as he took more and more of me into him. When he had taken 2/3 of me into him, I thought that he had reached his limit, but he kept going. When he bottomed out, I still had one inch sticking out, but he took far more of me down his throat than I thought physiologically possible. Now that he knew where to draw the line, he began taking my cock in and out of himself, exerting pressure, caressing it with his talented throat, skillful tongue, and maddening lips. As he blew me, I was in heaven. My nerves tingled with excitement; my limbic system lit up like the Las Vegas strip. I wanted to participate more in this moment, but for Jason, at that moment, his whole world was my cock. He worshipped it with his mouth and hands with the fervor of a zealot. When my increasingly loud grunts indicated that I was drawing close, he pulled my cock out of his throat and began focusing all his attention on its head with his tongue. My cock swelled as I was about to blow. Jason took it in both hands, leaned back, and then began massaging the head with his right hand. I exploded in an eruption of cum. Jason guided my cock to his chest and abs, and I sprayed all over him, anointing him with my seed as though it were a primeval baptism. So much cum came out of my cock, and Jason just kept rubbing it into his abs and pecs, coating himself. When at last the last spurt dribbled out of me, Jason took a large dab in his fingers and swallowed it. “Delicious,” he said. He rose to his feet, kissed me powerfully, and went to the bathroom to grab a towel. He wiped himself off, wiped me off, and tossed the towel to a spot on the carpet where much of my semen had dripped and pooled. “You’re not going to clean that up?” I asked, intrigued. “Later. I’ll have Lacey send over some carpet cleanser.” He pointed at my cock, which was still standing erect. “Can I ride again, or do you too have a pesky refractory period?” I picked him up and tossed him on the bed. Smiling delightedly, he wriggled out of his pants, scooted to the edge, and spread his legs, presenting his ass to me. I coated my cock liberally in lube and lined it up with his hole. When I pushed just the head into him, he let out a sound of astonishment, much like a gasp he tried to swallow. “Jesus, Miles, you are thick!” he said. Slowly, I pressed myself into him, little by little. When my corona pressed on his prostate, he made a similar gulping nose, and his cock shot up stock straight. “More please,” he said, already panting. “Just tell me when,” I returned. I continued pressing myself into him, and he writhed in pleasure. His ass was tighter than I was used to, enveloping every bit of my cock and sending signals of pleasure up my shaft. It was intense how much pleasure this cock could produce. Inch after inch, I disappeared into him. I was shocked how much of me he was taking. Jason looked to only be in rapture, so I kept pushing. At 11 inches, Jason began breathing heavily. “Should I stop?” I said. “Are you all the way in?” he asked. “Not quite.” “Then don’t you dare stop,” he answered through slightly gritted teeth. I pushed the last inch in. There was more resistance than I’d ever felt, and the pressure was enthralling and magical. When I bottomed out, my bull balls slapping into him, Jason let out a sound of utter triumph and delight. I began thrusting into him, teasing his hole, sometimes pulling all the way out and pushing all the way back in, sometimes only pulling out half-way before thrusting it back in, sometimes only pulling out two or three inches before the downstroke. My stochastic rhythm brought him up to a boil quickly. Soon, he was flailing as a stream of cum burst out of his cock. He cursed more vulgarly than I’d ever heard him before. I wasn’t even sure some of the words he said were in English. When he calmed down, I pointed out, “I’m still ready to go if you are.” “Don’t stop fucking me,” he ordered, so I began thrusting and plowing him in a variety of speeds, durations, and lengths. I even flexed my Kegel muscles occasionally, which always solicited some of the most ardent vocalizations. My nerves were on fire with delight, and soon I was nearing my second orgasm of the night. When I unleashed inside him, the pressure was enough to send him over the edge, and he was twitching and shaking in his third orgasm of the night, intensifying my own as his contracting ass created more friction on my ejaculating cock. That orgasm was intense and memorable. I saw colors. I roared so loudly my throat was raw. When we finished, I lay on his bed, and he put his head on my abs, staring at my cock, lazily tracing his finger up and down its flaccid length, occasionally holding one of my balls with appreciative affection. “Be honest,” I said, “I’m the biggest living man you’ve ever taken, right.” “I told you I was a size queen,” he pointed out, still tickling my cock. “No way you’ve had bigger than me,” I said, sitting up a little. “I’m talking actual flesh and blood human, not a dildo like King Kong.” Jason laughed, coaxing me back down onto the bed. “I’m a size queen who doesn’t date much. I guarantee you that you are the biggest man I’ve ever had. By inches—plural. I’ve had bigger things inside me, yes. But it’s entirely different when something that big is attached to a man, especially a man you love. My toys, even King Kong, are a pale echo of the real experience.” He picked himself up and looked me in the eyes. “You have another go in you before we call it a night?” So, I fucked him a third time with my giant cock. When I left, the man at the front desk saw my smile, nodded, and tipped his hat again. He had a knowing look in his eye. My night with Jason had been so good that I even wanted to call Shafe to brag about it on my drive back to the hotel, but I didn’t. I knew Shafe wouldn’t have minded hearing all the gory details, which is part of the reason I didn’t call him. It would encourage him to tell me all of the details of his relationship with Marietta. Instead, I drove around Vancouver for about half an hour. My windows were down, and I enjoyed the hot August air rushing past me. When I got back to my hotel room, my bow tie—which I don’t even remember taking off—was sitting on my pillow with a short note in Jason’s handwriting: “Thank you.”

Hey all, I have received so many messages about continuing this story. As I've mentioned before, all is written but just not posted yet. Thanks to a few nudges over the past week or so, I will start posting again. In the poll at the beginning, the readers wanting shorter chapters more often won by 2 votes 97:95 so they win. This chapter is a shorter transitional one for those who need to catch up after almost exactly 2 years since the last one. Be well, be safe, and enjoy. What would you do if you owned a god? Really, think about it. What would you do? How would the siren song of complete unending pleasure, mind-numbing sensuality, ultimate power – how would that play out in the mortal, fallible, lustful mind of a human. Would you want physical power? Would you call into existence a thousand rippling muscular warriors to wage war on your endlessly growing sexual needs? Would you wish for money, position, and influence? What if you could ask for it all? The thought struck Trevor with immense force. The cypress lined highway stretching across the north end of the Olympic Peninsula smelled of the purest crispest air. A god, the extent of his powers still unknown, was sitting next to him, feeding wisps of pure sex and complete pleasure into his consciousness. Dantalion, the most beautiful being – a manifestation of otherworldly masculinity – sat next to him, rippling chords of galactic power pulsing over his ever-changing ever-modifying body. Thick branches of vascularity, veins throbbing and twitching in rhythm with Trevor’s heartbeat were visible on every exposed inch of skin. All that Dantalion was doing, everything, was focused on Trevor’s pleasure – it oozed out of him into the air like a thick luscious fog tickling his brain and cock. It wrapped around Trevor’s sack like a talented mouth with lifetimes of training. It flooded his nipples with warm wet air. He was close to being completely submerged in a dream that he may not wake up from – not because D was practicing any form of coercion, but because he wanted to sink into that world, a world where his personal god would grant him endless wishes…forever. But the thought struck him, as if being hit by a mental hammer. T’s face became more serious and D could feel the recoil. “What have I done to displease you, Master?” Dantalion’s bond picked up the change, the strange withdrawal of Trevor’s profound happiness. “Oh D, you have done nothing to displease me. In fact, that is what I am wresting with. You have power to completely overwhelm me with all of my desires. And I love that about you. You can and desire to offer me bliss and unending incomprehensible pleasure. I feel my balls aching and sizzling in ways that no man feels.” Dantalion was aghast at the human’s truthfulness and concern. This was unexpected and had never been encountered in his experience. “I fear that I will be lost in you. I am afraid of the power that you wield at my slightest behest. I don’t know if I am worthy of that responsibility. I don’t know if I am Good enough for what you have given to me freely.” Trevor’s eyes were tearing up. He couldn’t help it – emotion pouring over – feelings of inadequacy, weakness, lustful thoughts of a live of debauchery and lecherous behavior clouding his mind. Thoughts of Detalion and his complete servitude and utter perfection flooded his mind and delved into his heart. He looked at the djinn, pure perfection, hard impenetrable maleness with unending means of satisfying Trevor’s most secret and fetish-based desires. A tear fell from Trevor’s eye and onto his cheek. Dantalion was overwhelmed with an emotion he had never encountered in his eons of existence. He did not know this feeling. It made him hurt in the middle of his chest. His body ached to protect his final Bound. What was happening to him? He desired none else than to give Trevor ANYTHING to stop the feeling that he felt coming through their bond – the feeling of being unworthy. Of all the humans Dantation had encountered in his existence, no other human was more worthy in his mind. No other human had given him the precious gifts that Trevor had and D had, in turn, never felt the same about his own life and existence. He took a risk and with his mind, eased the Jeep onto the side of the highway next to a rushing waterfall, the view of Vancouver Island across the water. His hand went up to Trevor’s cheek and he leaned over and pressed his lips to that single tear that was sliding slowly down his Bound’s cheek. He tasted the salt and all of the emotion in what was found in the single drop of liquid. Another part of his barriers ripped open inside of him. In a place profoundly deep, something burst. Power flowed into his well. Passion and virility fed into the rivers beginning to course within him. The pressure in his chest was building and his heartbeat pounded on in increasingly strong cadence with Trevor. The bond between them was so exquisite. Trevor turned his face toward Dantalion and his hand found it’s way behind D’s thick muscular bull neck. He leaned in and pressed his lips into the djinn’s and kissed him, deeply, truthfully, and with such profound emotion. The dams inside of both – the barriers holding them both back from letting go completely of all separation - were cracking, pure adoration, trust, affection, and power pouring through. Dantalion was thrust into ecstasy, his eyes igniting with flames, rolling back in his head. Trevor kissed him deep and hard. Thrusting his tongue into the mouth of someone he wanted to be with forever. It was time to show Dantalion the art and beauty of making love, of fucking, someone that you desire above all others. It was time for them to become ONE. Neither of them could control what would happen when they reached the hotel in just a few miles. Dantalion was quaking with power. Vast waterfalls of djinn magic poured into his well. Streams becoming rivers as his Bound freely gave him floods of endless emotion. His mind was sizzling as well as his balls. His near limitless power was bulging from the confines of his mind. His physical body wracked with tectonic power, muscle and flesh harder than diamond, arteries flooding his physical manifestation with the strength of a million suns. He wanted to fuck the universe with his power. He had always thought of humans as weak or pathetic – but not the one next to him. He would do anything for Trevor. He would break the world in half, destroy the black hole at the center of the galaxy, ingest the energy of every pulsar in the universe – just to keep Trevor safe and happy. And then he felt it, suddenly, like an earthquake. “Trevor, he is coming.” Trevor was lost in his own inhuman state of rapture. His eyes flitted open. “Who?” “Bael has destroyed the vessel of Asteroth. He senses my rapid rate of my expanding power. He senses that I will soon be far more powerful than he, but that I am weaker still. He comes for me.”

Trevor sat up in bed, thinking it all a dream…the evening before. A djinn, nearly his height but with a musculature that was blatantly inhuman, sex the likes of which his brain could still not fully understand, his synapses still firing randomly as a result, wishes, binding, wells of accumulated power…It was all a bit much and too detailed for a dream, but he had vivid one’s before. Just not quite like this. He lay back down slowly. Geez, he was a bit lightheaded, shooting up like that. Then his mind was awake enough to feel something along his arm. Like it was dipped in perfectly warm water. He glanced over and saw the mist encasing him from hand to elbow, pulsing, dense but yet a bit transparent, bluish. It looked like it was breathing, in and out, in and out. The mist pulled off of Trevor’s arm and slid under the blanket next to him. Over the course of 10 seconds a body solidified, the mist pulling Trevor’s arm back up to resting at the crest of D’s massive chest. “You are awake, Master.” Trevor’s mind came to a screeching halt. It was real. His dream was real. He was guardian of a djinn. And he didn’t understand what that meant. And he didn’t know if he wanted to. Tension wracked his mind. He felt disoriented and unsure. The events of the previous evening snapped into sharp relief…He was mostly confused but there was a bit of fear in him as well. “Have I done something to offend you, Master?” Dantalion had a pleading quality in his voice. He had learned to read humans like they read a blog, a menu, anything simple and easy to digest and understand. Trevor’s mind continued to do summersaults, running diagnostics, questions flooding his mind. But he felt Dantatlion’s flesh, his warmth, his inhuman chest…and he could feel his concern. The bond between them allowed a trickle of understanding, connection, knowledge that was just enough to bring him back down to reality. His NEW reality. Then he remembered the dream he just had awoken from. The dream. “No, D. You haven’t done anything to offend me. Let us just lay here together for a few minutes. I need to gather my thoughts.” D felt emboldened for some reason. He didn’t know why or how – he would never have done this with any previous Bound. He reached over with one of his baseball mitt sized hands, thick with their own musculature and stroked the cheek of Trevor, lightly, gently. Trevor looked into D’s flickering eyes and he felt safe. “D, I want to take you a couple of places today that are very special to me. It’s a bit of a drive. But the entire way is unbelievably beautiful. I want to take you there and I want you to see it. You should experience things in your existence, right?” He didn’t know the answer to that question. He didn’t know what djinn’s were supposed to do, to be, to want. D held his breath for a moment – he didn’t really need to breathe after all. “Do you want me to transport us there? We can be wherever you want in the universe in just a moment.” Trevor pinched Dantatlion’s nipple. The one next to his hand. D let out a deep moan from his powerful chest. He had been allowed to continue “feeling” as humans feel. Trevor paused a moment. “No, you need to experience, to learn about this world in ways you haven’t yet. You have only experienced pain until last night. I want you to feel the sun on your skin – it’s warmth. I want you to feel the wind in your hair when we drive. D, you haven’t had any of that in how long?” “Never.” Trevor didn’t respond for a moment. He wanted to talk to D so much more both in time and in substance. There were parts of his grandfather’s note, things that D had said, the Binding process – things he needed to ask about. Nothing like a good road trip to talk about things. And the djinn had obviously not been on any road trips in his millennia of existence. “D, life is a journey. Getting to the destination is often better than the destination itself. I want you to experience that.” Trevor pinched D’s nipple one more time and then swung around and got out of bed. He was thin but lithe. D’s eyes took in everything, top to bottom, as his Bound walked to the bathroom. He was told to “feel” human things. And he was starting to feel something very unusual, powerful, overwhelming about this human. He didn’t understand it. But he wanted it more than anything in the world - to keep feeling this way about his Bound. Trevor wasn’t in the bathroom long. He always took quick showers. He walked out with a dark grey towel around his waist. D was still in bed, laying supine. He looked at Trevor as the man got dressed, tight ass, good build if a bit thin. He couldn’t forget how he felt the previous day. He was allowed to feel sex, cumming, pleasure beyond his wildest imagination. He never thought being human would feel like this. The man in front of him was entirely responsible. He wanted him so bad. He wanted to feel Trevor’s cock in his ass, down his throat, fucking the chasm between his pecs. He wanted Trevor to be all over him, in him, forever…But again, he would never ask for that. Djinn to not ask favors from their Bound. That is not the way of it. So he took small comfort in watching Trevor get dressed in a well-fitted heather grey v-neck tee shirt and thick woven brown pants – he thought he saw the word Carhartt on the tag. “Well D, what are you waiting for?” Trevot swung around and looked at the meat pile in the bed. “What do you want me to do, Master?” “God, number one, stop calling me Master. Just call me Trevor or T – since I call you D. I know I have complete control over you, but that doesn’t mean that you have to keep calling me Master. It just sounds so weird. And I feel weird when you say it. Just Trevor or T, OK?” “I’m not a god…yet.” Trevor shot him a quizzical look. Another question to ask about. The djinn didn’t move other than to nod and utter those words.. He truly didn’t know what the human wanted him to do. So he just stayed under the covers on the bed, only the top of his chest exposed. “Well, I guess we need to get you dressed, although none of my clothes are going to fit you. You’re fucking HUGE!” Trevor smiles a bit as he felt himself get a bit of a semi-hard on. “I can make myself smaller, more your size,” D said meekly. He had rarely been in this situation before, not knowing what was expected. What does one wear, what size does one need to be, what other things that he didn’t even know to ask – to go on a “road trip?” Trevor, realizing his error – he was after all dealing with a very ancient and being with childlike understanding of anything day to day – walked over to D’s side of the bed and grabbed his hand. “Stand up, D. We need to find you some clothes. And when we are not alone, can you turn off those flames in your eyes? Make them look more human? “ “Yes, I can do anything you ask me, within the confines of djinn law.” The slow flicking flames disappeared so he could demonstrate to Trevor how Human he could appear. “What would you like me to wear, T?” He took a risk abridging his Bound’s name. It felt far too intimate to call him that. But he decided that if he were given permission, it was ok. “Do you want me to augment my body in any way? Or would you rather me be in my natural form?” Trevor just smiled. He felt, through their bond, that the djinn felt nervous and insecure. The god before him had just called him “T” and was asking about augmentation. This was all so surreal. “I don’t think there is a reason to augment you, at least now. You are so perfect in so many ways. And as for clothes – how about a tight white cotton tee shirt, low cut v-neck to show your amazing pecs, tight around the arms tending to bunch up at your delts to show how powerful they are…And dark grey shorts, mid-thigh, tight to show your legs and your big bulge. White high top Chuck Taylor Converse. Do you understand?” D smiled and in an instant, Trevor’s djinn was a fucking wet dream. Simple, perfect, sexual as fuck and he was just waiting for his next command. Another leak of mana trickled into his well. He was loving this exchange. His brothers did have something to worry about, maybe. The unmatched pair – one übermuscular and the other thin and defined – walked down to the parking garage under the condo complex and got into the open air Jeep. They left Capitol Hill in Seattle and drove toward the ferry terminal that would take them across Puget Sound to Bainbridge Island. When on the ferry, T got out of the Jeep and told D to follow up to the top deck. Trevor slipped on the slick metal stairs and D, just inches away, reached out his ape arms and caught him. Trevor shot him a smile and a nod. Dantalion felt like he could tear the universe in half with a smile from Trevor. They went up to the upper deck and Trevor whispered into D’s ear, “I wish that you felt the wind on your face, on your body, and could smell the sweet salty air on his summer day. I wish you would experience this as I am doing. It is perfect.” D expanded his mind just a bit, a fraction of what he could, but only as much as his human allowed. He smelled the sea, the saltwater, felt the cool breeze especially on his face, the skin exposed at his V-neck, and his legs. It WAS perfect, just as Trevor told him it would be. He smiled. They reached the Bainbridge Ferry Terminal in short order, only 30 minutes away from downtown. Back in the Jeep, they drove through small towns, one after another, hidden in trees shaped like matchsticks and packed as tight but taller than any 7 story building. The smell was intoxicating to the djinn. The wind in his hair, the sun on his face. Trevor wanted him to feel it, and he did. Just before crossing Hood Canal, Trevor reached out and grabbed Dantalion’s hand. He pulled over on the side of the highway in a truck pullout. He had been thinking non-stop since leaving the apartment an hour earlier. “D, I need to ask you things on this drive. I need you to be as honest as you can be, given my limited understanding of your world…I really know nothing.” He paused for a moment. “I want you to have some freedoms of expression, things you should take liberties with. You need to develop as a being. One free to make his own choices. I know you don’t know how to do that, but I want to help you. You need to feel autonomy and what that can mean, the power it has.” D was wide-eyed. He didn’t know how to be autonomous. He didn’t know anything about what Trevor was telling him. He didn’t know if he wanted it…but it was his Bound’s directive. “So, let’s just take things slow. If you get out of bounds, out of control, I can always pull you back. I reserve that power. But D, you need to experience things for yourself, make some of your own decisions.” The djinn’s only goal was to fulfill Trevor’s commands, to grant his wishes, to give him pleasure. So that is where he would start. And he wanted to do all of those things for his Bound, this one anyway. That feeling, that warm pressure in his chest, that feeling that went down to his now active cock and balls…he only wanted this because of Trevor. Trevor looked at the djinn with confidence, respect, and an affection that took D by surprise. “Let’s stop up here a ways. I’m thirsty. Do you need water?” The djinn shook his head, no. Trevor pulled back on the road and started driving. Dantalion’s mind kicked into high gear, his imagination uncoupled by simple human expectations. He only wanted to please Trevor. Everything in is galactic powerful body screamed at him to please the small human. He now had access to his own imagination and was given carte blanche to use it, without express permission. Two minutes later, flying down the highway, D put his left hand on Trevor’s right knee. “Please pull over, Trevor. I want to show my appreciation.” Dantation’s mind was spooling in infinite ways, ways to please his Bound. He had no other purpose and as his mind expanded in ways that could not be comprehended by any other being. “You are thirsty for water. Drink from me.” D spoke in a whisper, pushed close to Trevor’s ear. The djinn tore his shirt down the middle, exposing his enormous chest, striated as if a cheese grater had been put into use. His left nipple was hard. Trevor knew what to do. He pulled over into the parking lot of a 5 room motel, no cars in the lot – maybe it was out of business. He watched as Dantalion’s nipple dilated open much like a camera shutter. Trevor put his mouth to Dantalion’s tit and began to suck. Cool crisp water flowed out of Dantalion, his hard granite chest, and into Trevor. The human shuttered. It was so sweet, like a mountain stream above the tree line. He drank and drank and drank. The water was addictive, cold, clean. When he was done, Dantalion closed off the supply, He looked down at Trevor as the Bound looked up into his eyes. He licked his lips and rose up, giving Dantalion a kiss. The djinn was flooded with energy, mana, his own mind expanded more – thinking of other ways to satisfy Trevor. Trevor, on the other hand, felt astonishment…and FUCK he was getting horny. D’s powers, his control, even with limited understanding of what pleasure, lust, sex was…he was learning quickly. Trevor was all too willing to teach him. “Let’s play a game, D. You answer a question about you – your existence. Then you get to do something you think will please me. Is that something you would want to do? A game you would want to play?” D had never been asked before his current Bound, if he would “like” to do something. He could feel Trevor through their bond as well as see on his face. This was going to be something they both enjoyed. “Yes, I want to play that game.” Dantalion’s measurement’s seemed to expand just a bit, growing noticeably larger. “Did you just grow, D?” “Yes, Trevor. You have given me autonomy so I want to express to you my appreciation. And I know that you are fascinated with muscle. There are thousands of ways I can and will show you my appreciation over time if you will let me” Trevor was breathing shallow. “Do you feel good when you grow, like I do? Like I asked you to make me feel?” The human was getting excited again and in turn so was D. “Yes, you wanted me to feel that pleasure and you did instruct me to not turn off those sensations. It feels – I do not have the words. It is sublime.” The djinn felt his ample cock shudder, his balls began to churn. Is this what humans felt? This horniness Trevor mentioned. The god next to him in the Jeep had put on another 20 pounds of hard dense flesh in a matter of 10 seconds – that on a frame the size of a normal man. He was looking Freaky – even more than before. Trevor’s mouth went dry. “So let’s start the game D.” He wanted to attack the djinn losing himself in profound lust and ejaculation pumping out gallons of cum. Remembering what had happened the night before, all he wanted was to give into his most depraved fantasies. The pressure was building. Trevor was soooo fucking horny now. He had just drank from the hard muscle tit of a god. That tickled kinks that he didn’t even know he had. Did Dantalion know? Did he know things about Trevor that not even he knew about himself? He collected his thoughts and focused. “D, when we were bound together, part of the ritual was for me to say that you can’t take my soul unless I give it to you freely. What does that mean.” The djinn hadn’t expected things to get this deep so quickly. “The reason we are bound to humans is to fulfill our primary goal. To fill our well, the mana or energy, that we harvest is in order to gain godhood. But only ONE djinn will be granted that power. One of the most powerful ways a djinn can gain power is to harvest the soul of his bound. Just three or four souls would completely fill a djinn’s well. But it has to be done without coercion. And a harvested soul just ceases to exit. It will not be reborn, it will not go on after death. All of the mana in that soul is poured into his djinn’s well.” Trevor continued to look into Dantalion’s eyes – almost human, maybe more orange than hazel. “I don’t know of any of the brothers that have harvested a soul. Otherwise the first one to fill his well would have become a god already and I would have been snuffed out of existence.” Trevor had a confused look on his face. “So you said there were only three of you left. What happened to the others?” “Permit me to put a hold on your questions. We are playing a game after all. You asked a question. I answered the question. Now I want to please you, pleasure you. Isn’t that the game?” There were so many questions in Trevor’s mind and he was just starting to ask them. But yes, he needed to play by the rules. He needed to show D that rules were important especially with any granted autonomy. “Yes, D. You may please me. I gave you access to your imagination and the ability to be independent. Just don’t hurt me.” A sharp pain struck D when Trevor said that. “I would never hurt you, ever. I thought that was clear.” There was a bit of pain in the djinn’s voice and Trevor picked up on it. He reached out to the man in the Jeep to his right. “I know you don’t ever want to hurt me, but you are so fucking powerful. You could do nearly anything. But I do trust you, so please forgive me for questioning that. “ He left his hand on D’s upper thigh and squeezed it just a bit to let the djinn know he was serious about what he had said. A wicked smile flashed across Dantalion’s face. “I accept your apology, although you didn’t need to give one. You are the master here. And I thank you for freeing me of at least some of my bonds.” Trevor was looking into the eyes of god. He was giving god permission to pleasure him. It was such a strange dynamic. D smiled again, a sincere genuine smile. The djinn opened his mouth and he stuck out his tongue. It was thick and muscular. Ripples started moving across the surface and then it started lengthening and moving down through is pec cleavage, over his hard obvious abs toward his own crotch. When the powerful muscle reached D’s lap, it extended away from him toward his Bound, Trevor, the man who had started to free him – free his mind and his own passions. There were switches being flipped in D’s mind. Thoughts that he had never experienced before - physical feelings – wind, sunshine, fucking, lust and SEX—and all of it focused on the small man next to him. He had only one purpose now. Fuck the race for mana that he had with his two remaining brothers. He only wanted to make Trevor happy and fulfilled. His thick red tongue reached Trevor’s lap, pulsing, undulating with thick waves. It slid between Trevor’s skin and his Carhartt’s and down to his eager cock. D’s tongue wrapped around Trevor like the mist form he had assumed the night before, but instead of Trevor’s arm, it was his dick. He began stroking and pumping it, wanting to give Trevor an idea of his newly unlocked imagination. A million other things flew through his mind on how to pleasure his Bound The tip of his tongue continued to flex and relax, tightening then loosening around Trevor’s growing stick. D wanted, needed, to feel that oneness with Trevor again. He continued to pump Trevor. A small tributary of muscle extended out from D’s tongue almost like a thin finger, just above Trevor’s belt. It wiggled its way down into the button, zipper, and buckle and began to undo all of them working them lose. Suddenly, Trevor’s belt, button and zipper were loosened. D had more access. Trevor’s eyes were closed now. He was letting himself feel the pleasure that D was giving him. This was so fucking weird – but soooo HOT! It felt like nothing he could have even imagined. Nothing could compare to having D’s thick muscular tongue lashed around him like a tetherball cord around its pole. And then D chuckled. A deep sound emerging from him. Trevor felt something moving along his taint, from where his balls were churning back toward his tight hole. D’s tongue continued to flex and relax, flex and relax around Trevor’s cock. He was fully hard now and could tell that he was about to start leaking his precum. Then there was that feeling, moving under him, to his quivering hole…He could feel it pause and then push in just a bit, feeling out the pressure. Trevor groaned loudly, his eyes sealed shut, his head pushing back against the headrest. His breathing was shallow and rapid, catching every few moments for a whimper to be released. D pushed in further opening him up as he continued to jack him off with the same long, powerful muscle. He was being milked again, but in such a different way. He began involuntarily flexing his body. He was going to cum soon – the djinn was being very sure of that. “D, I want to grow again before I shoot. I want to feel again, like last night, like my body is a giant cock, all of it sensitive as I get bigger. 7 feet tall, built like I was last night.” He wished he had more presence of mind to get more creative. But he had a god sitting next to him, jacking him off with the most powerful muscular tongue in the world – and he had just started fucking him with the same muscle. He could barely speak much less think about how to make this “better.” Trevor felt his clothes get tight again, a tingling spread across every inch of him. The fucking and pulses of D’s tongue continued unabated. Then Trevor felt that orgasm spreading through his body. He was a raw nerve of sex. He kept his eyes closed as he was impaled by the djinn’s dominance. He felt so much power coursing through him. He felt that some of that was coming from D. D was drunk on the power he felt and he should feel that power. Trevor wanted the djinn to feel powerful. Somehow that was important. Seams split in Trevor’s pants – Carhartt’s were supposed to be tough – but not tough enough to contain his rapidly expanding form. His shirt burst open, seams evaporating in one explosive punch. He had barely stopped growing, a perfect 7 foot muscle giant – when he started shooting his hot spunk. Dantalion would not let his Master’s seed go to waste. His tongue retracted from Trevor’s accommodating ass and began to clean up every drop of salty bitter goodness. He had never tasted anything else before in his entire existence. And he didn’t care to try anything else. He only wanted Trevor. It was consuming his mind, Trevor and his wants, his needs. The djinn retracted his muscled tongue back into his face – so he looked normal. Trevor was still recuperating – little micro twitches spreading along his body erratically. Everything was dry. Dantalion had absorbed every drop of Trevor. “Ok, Trevor. I am ready for your next question.” His mind only with one thing on it – how to please Trevor even more. He wanted to use his imagination again and again. Fuck, he felt powerful. The human lolled his head over to the djinn, slack jawed, still in a daze. After a few moments, Trevor regained his grasp on reality and pulled the Jeep out of the parking lot and back onto the highway. His thoughts cleared. Dantalion was waiting for the next question with anticipation. Trevor could feel it. “So about you turning into a god. What’s with that?” “You asked a question previously, T. About what happened to my other brothers, but I think I can answer both that and this one at the same time.” The djinn felt pressure mounting in him. The power he felt coming off of Trevor. The throbbing energy in his pants…he wanted to tear open any barriers to the source of that feeling. Granting him some autonomy, his Bound had unlocked needs and wants that the djinn was not even aware of existing inside of him. He looked to Trevor, his mind exploding in its ability only governed now by this imagination. He shuddered again and grew just a little more, becoming just a bit more vascular, a bit more defined. He couldn’t help it. And he didn’t want to. His only focus was to plunge his Bound into ever increasing states of bliss and he was discovering and sensing ways to do it that had not even been thought of by Trevor. And the question remained, Trevor had said that D hadn’t even experienced “real” sex… The two sped shirtless now down the evergreen-lined highway, Trevor's pants in tatters around his legs. The road trip was just beginning. ow

This is superbly written. Great idea in having the wisher wish for the Djinn to experience human pleasure. A fun new concept.

Dantalion still sat comfortably on Trevor’s lap, his tight, hard, round ass perched on his Bound’s enormous left quads. Trevor had his arm around Dantalion’s broad ape-like shoulders, running his fingers along D’s net of shoulder veins. This was D’s true form and he was in awe. Trevor was larger now, by far, but it was transient – it wasn’t his actual self. Dantalion, however, was massive and while he was shorter an army tank would be less intimidating. Dantalion peered up to Trevor’s eyes with so many questions. Did his new Bound just say that D would be allowed to feel pleasure? Thoughts of his third Bound flooded his mind. The 3rdwas a sadist. He caused unparalleled death, destruction, and despair in his cycle. And some of that sadism was directed at Dantalion. The djinn reached into the darkest recesses of his memories. He, of course, could remember everything. But he didn’t often choose to. Parts of his past he kept locked away and this was the one he kept hidden under the deepest barriers. The bond between Trevor and D was remarkably strong after Trevor’s first experience with The Power of his djinn. He instinctively felt Dantalion regress into some place that the human was not welcome. Some place that held a definite reticence for the djinn. “D, I can feel your suffering. Please tell me what you are thinking about.” The djinn again lifted his eyes to his 12thand final Bound. A strange feeling swept over him. He felt a compulsion to tell his master what he was thinking about, what he was experiencing from his history. But he was guarded as he hadn’t thought himself to be capable of. Typically, he would satisfy a request without even processing it. But this request was different and it was personal. “Master, I would share this with you – my suffering. But it is difficult for me to relive. I have tossed the thoughts away and now they are resurfacing. Do you truly desire to know?” Trevor felt he was intruding as if he were peering in on pain that he should not witness. “D, I only asked because I want to know you; to understand you. I don’t want to pry but you are very special to me now and I feel a certain responsibility to -- and for - you.” The 7 foot giant human with bulging muscles hugged the more diminutive (but still muscularly massive) djinn. “The only sensation in my existence that I have felt….is pain.” The djinn looked into Trevor’s eyes, flames still emanating from his pupils in a languorous flutter. “He was unhappy with liberties that I took when he commanded me to destroy his enemies. He demanded that I break djinn law and destroy my brother, another djinn, who was aiding the other army.” “You see, I cannot destroy one of my brothers directly. It is djinn law. But a Bound can destroy the vessel of a djinn and snuff out their existence.” Dantalion seemed to lean into Trevor’s still-massive chest, just an inch. “I advised him that by law, I couldn’t destroy my brother directly, but that he could.” The djinn’s eyes began to radiate even more flame. “My Bound became angry. Became vicious. He looked at me and commanded that I feel that my body was burning in a fiery furnace. That I feel a million knife cuts. That I feel floggings from a cat-o-nine-tails.” Dantalion shivered as he still sat on Trevor’s cum drenched leg. “Enough D. Those experiences are part of your past. But they are not part of your present.” Trevor felt choked up. He had just witnessed the most truthful expression of suffering that one could offer. Trevor felt sick inside knowing that the beautiful God sitting on his lap had only experienced the worse of human existence. Trevor would show him the best –as if he hadn’t already planned to. “D, I want to take this slow. I want to show you a certain type of magic that isn’t the sort of magic that you know. Not yet, anyway.” The two hadn’t moved from each other since Trevor’s cataclysmic orgasm a few minutes ago. They seemed “stuck” together although it was likely more Trevor’s cum that now acted as glue. Trevor pulled D’s shockingly handsome face into the space under his chin. He petted the djinn like a small naïve child, not that he felt the djinn to be naïve, but that he knew that in this area of physical existence, Dantalion was woefully undereducated. “D, I wish that you feel my hands caressing the sides of your face, your hair, your shoulders, your chest. I wish you to feel the sensation as if you were human.” Trevor lightly ran his fingertips, his palms, his hands all over Dantalion’s vein riddled upper body, face, and neck. He started softly, then began to work harder. Dantalion’s breath caught. He didn’t breathe for a moment as he felt his first real touch of affection. He had never felt something so soft yet so exhilarating. He felt his skin become sensitive and to awaken as Trevor deftly flitted his fingertips around, on, into D’s pumpkin sized shoulders. Trevor traced the netting of veins in those same delts with the lightest touch of his fingertips. He sunk his strong still-augmented hands into Dantalion’s thick meaty chest and began kneading as if pounding dough into itself on the second proof. “Let me handle your flesh, D, like it was human flesh.” Trevor seemed to recognize that Dantalion’s tissue was extremely dense and nearly immovable. Even with his enormous size and power as he struggled to massage D’s exterior he felt resistance that he never suspected. It was like massaging near-solid amorphous iron. Suddenly, Dantalion obeyed the command and his muscle, his skin, his connective tissue, became more human – penetrable, warm, vulnerable. Dantalion felt a shift in his thinking yet again; another tectonic change of perspective. He moaned. “He” being both of them. Either of them. Trevor marveled at the inhumanly dense flesh of his djinn god. He kneaded D’s pecs and shoulders as if he were working 50 pounds of thick sticky dough. For Dantalion’s part he had never in tens of thousands of years felt this feeling. It was a feeling that his djinn mind was all to ready to engage with, but at the same time he felt concerned and afraid again. If he felt pleasure, would he also again feel pain? Lost in Trevor’s constant attentions, he succumbed to that feeling of bliss that can shatter the mind if unattended. Trevor let out a deep growl from deep within him. Speaking softly into D’s ear he whispered with ragged breath, “D, I want to you engage sensation to your nipples. I wish that your nipples and your cock were the same organ. They feed off of my touch. I wish that your enormous beautiful dick were sensitized to touch and emotion. That your cock, your balls, your nipples, your lips… your taint…your ass… The enlarged human paused. He realized in this moment, he was gifting D the beginnings of the best parts of humanity. Sex, passion, the slightest hint of love and desire. “I wish that you experienced these sensations as humans do.” He only hoped that he was worthy of this responsibility – the responsibility of aiding a near-immortal traverse the most powerful parts of human experience. The deep thoughts of concern and responsibility for training a djinn in the pleasures of the flesh vanished in less than a second as Dantatlion peered up into Trevor’s eyes. There was a need, a longing, and a reconciling that flitted across his face. Dantalion wanted this. He didn’t know he did until now. He wanted to feel horny and sexy and unabashed lust. Even with these strange human emotions swirling in his mind, the djinn calmly sat on Trevor’s enormous leg. Looking up at the being that was granting wishes that he didn’t know he wanted. It was as if the relationship dynamics stalled and had reversed in a short 2 minutes. Dantalion was the one now desiring an expansion of his reality. Trevor was the one granting the desires…although he didn’t realize it…yet. “D, please return me to my normal human size and stand next to me. I don’t think I could manage your muscle weight on my normal sized leg.” Trevor blushed for some reason. Without the briefest thought, D arose in his naked true form. Trevor returned to the more delicate appearance and as he had existed before his transformation. D thought this was unique. The human had returned to his natural self, losing his physical power and intimidation. Again, unique that he had used the word “please” to ask for his wish to return to normalcy. He was liking this human. Dantalion stood erect, bulging vein-ridden boulder shoulders thrust back, spine straight, enormous legs jutting out with just a slight bend at the knee. He was waiting his next instruction. He WANTED Trevor to instruct him. He had never had this desire, this want, or this need. Changes continued to swirl inside of his immortal mind – no not immortal. This was his last cycle. His Bound stood facing him, so much smaller than he had been moments ago. Trevor’s frame had been easily eclipsed by the majesty of his djinn. Trevor lessened the distance between them by only a few inches but Dantalion sensed the change that a few inches can make. The now smaller man appeared to be tentative, unsure, hesitant. Dantalion had engaged his ability to feel sensation in his nipples and cock. He had engaged his skin to feel what a human would feel. He had already allowed the dense flesh of his physical form to be massaged by his 12th…and he had liked it. What would happen next? Trevor wanted D to feel the wonders of desire, passion, sex, love, cumming, cumming again, and cumming again. He would treat D with the respect a demi-god deserved. He would be different than the others, Trevor promised himself. The djinn was breathing heavy. He could sense the smallest movement of air on his skin. He felt his chest heave, with downward thrusting nipples mounted on overhanging mounds of flesh. A need was building inside of him that he did not understand. Trevor again moved an inch closer and lifted his right hand to caress Danatalion’s chest. He made contact just under D’s left collarbone. Trevor ran his fingertips lightly down the striations that were Dantatlion’s pecs. He knew that he could wish the pecs larger, more defined (holy shit, they were already ripped beyond imagining), or change anything about D’s presentation, but he wanted it to be his djinn’s true form. Somehow, that seemed important. Trevor’s fingers continued to travel down Dantatlion’s enormous heavy pec moving deftly toward the nipple protruding southward from his overhanging chest meat. He made contact with D’s nipple with a light graze. A delicate touch with his talented fingertips. A growl burst from the djinn’s throat, his head thrust backward leaving Trevor with a view of bull neck muscles, writhing with their own vasculature, throbbing Adam’s apple, pulsating traps. All of this with the lightest touch of his fingertip on D’s nipple. Trevor paused for a moment. He flicked Dantalion’s nipple again. And almost in the same moment, he twisted it. Flames shot of out D’s eyes like a welding torch. No longer did flames lick his eyelids. These were hot concentrated flames. His mind exploded with sensations that were foreign but powerful beyond even his ability to comprehend in the moment. There was no frame of reference for this. With all of the power in the universe under his control (in accordance with djinn law), this experience nearly brought him to his knees—and it was only a touch to his nipple. Trevor continued to flick and pinch Dantalion’s nipple. He watched his djinn continue to writhe and start to pant. His breath became shallow, rapid, and small beads of sweat emerged on his brow, and over D’s upper body. Reflexively, Trevor leaned in and put the other nipple in his mouth, sucking hard and earnestly. Without warning, Dantalion again threw back his head and the sounds of dozens of screams erupted from his open mouth. High pitches and low pitched moans continued to pour from the djinn. All at the same moment. It was the sounds of thousands of years of silence set free in a moment. A thousand voices set free. Other than his head, Dantalion did not move. He did not wish to disturb the actions of his Bound. What would be next? Trevor removed his mouth from Dantalion’s erect nipple. He pulled his hand away from the other tit he had been manhandling. He peered down Dantatlion’s abdomen where he saw 10 pulsating bricks netted in vascularity, breathing in and out. In and out. And then he saw his true god. Dantatalion’s cock was throbbing, growing, only half hard now but dripping a constant flow of clear honey. With every pulse of growth, another glob emerged from his god slit and dripped lazily to the floor with a thing gossamer thread trailing behind. It was mesmerizing to watch a djinn, a near-immortal, experience sexual arousal for the first time. Thick ropes of sweet nectar continued to pulse of his growing, lengthening, thickening cock. Hundreds of blue veins began to rise to the surface of the foot-long cock meat, pulsing angrily. Trevor could barely look away from the thick clear sweet emissions that continued to push forth from his slowly rising member. He broke his stare and looked to Dantalion’s face. D had a look of concentration, his eyes closed, his breath still ragged. He appeared as if he were struggling with something, an internal argument, a fight with his conscience. “Look at me, D.” The djinn returned to the present and looked into the eyes of his master. “Make my mouth and throat bigger, to handle your giant god cock. I want to show you what my mouth, tongue, and throat can do for YOU!” Trevor did not feel any change but Dantalion “took liberties” to make Trevor flexible, in a manner of speaking. D wanted this more than he had ever thought to consider. Trevor lowered himself, his small human body kneeling with his head pressing against Dantalion’s netted abdominals. Trevor grabbed the god cock with his right hand and ran it along the nearly erect phallus of the djinn. 12 inches looked like 24 this close up. His mouth began to salivate. He wanted D to feel pleasure as he never had before. Dantalion felt a steady powerful stream of mana begin to flow into his Well. Again, the human fed him in a way that was shocking. And he couldn’t and wouldn’t wait for more. He felt something inside of him crack and break. Maybe true godhood was not out of his reach after all. Bael and Asteroth be damned. He was sucking on the tit of pure power with his 12th. He would suckle at that teat until there was nothing left. Dantalion subtly shook his head. No, he would not succumb to the base desires that could destroy him or his Bound. He felt on the edge of sanity, realizing the intrinsic power of the man that was about to suck his dick. Did he like his dick sucked? “I think I do.” The thought echoed in the demi-god’s mind. He shook his head again to regain his composure. At that moment, Trevor had found the sudden ability to unhinge his jaw, just a bit, to take in Dantalion’s apple sized head. He slowly advanced it into his mouth his tongue lapping up the pre-cum continuously pulsing out of the djinn. Trevor realized something. “D. Something isn’t right.” The djinn snapped out of his lustful thoughts. He had never had those before. The human reached to the base of Dantalion’s newly bequeathed staff and felt nearly nothing. Fuck, how could he have forgotten about one of the best parts. “D, I wish..” Trevor paused for a moment and realized the power of those two words to a djinn. The words “I WISH” Dantalion was focused like a laser on Trevor’s next command. It was the djinn way. Nothing was more focusing than hearing the words “I wish” from a Bound. “D, I wish that you had balls the size of… of grapefruits producing an infinite supply of jizz, cum, ejaculate…that will always be available to jettison our of your cock when needed.” D felt heaviness near his ass, near his cock. Two orbs of perfection descended and grew to the specifications that Trevor requested. Trevor put his hand under the newly filled scrotum of his djinn. He could feel the churning and swirling of the contents of D’s sack. “Your balls and their sack should be sensitive too, like you nipples, like your cock.” Trevor, still in his kneeling position, grabbed D’s ballooning balls and pulled gently downward. He leaned his head into D’s cock again and pulled his lips over the engorged head. He began to suck. The djinn felt his grasp on reality fade away until he almost lost control of his power. Trevor was bobbing up and down on the veined appendage that looked more like a second leg than anything D would have suspected. Unfettered thoughts of thrill and want slashed through his mind. Trevor knew that he must allow his djinn to cum. And he could feel that Dantatlion needed to or he may crack the world open with his rising power and need. The human lodged the djinn’s cock head behind his tonsils and pushed his head down. He could barely breathe but Trevor knew this was important. The djinn needed to feel this. Everyone needed to feel this. With the throbbing cock in his throat, hands on D’s balls pulling down, he somehow widened his mouth to say one word…. “CUM” Dantalion’s heavy churning balls pulled close to his body in a swift move. His cock extended more into Trevor’s throat and volleys upon volleys of the sweetest nectar pumped into the human’s body. A gallon of thick protein hurled itself down Trevor’s gullet…and it was perfect. Sweat again erupted from every pore on Dantalion and a roar burst from this thick throat.. A river of mana flowed into his Well. He was becoming more powerful that he would have thought possible. At this rate, the djinn and Trevor would become contenders in The Djinn’s race to godhood. D looked down on his 12thstill sucking in a daze on the djinn’s near flaccid cock. He could get used to this. “Hey, Trevor…Master….?” Trevor pulled away from D’s dick, its juices still dribbling out now in a lazy stream. “What did you think of that, D?” “It was by far the most powerful event of my existence.” He was being truthful and Trevor knew it. “Shit, D. That was just a quick twist of your nipple and a very fast blow job. You have NO IDEA what a powerful event sex can be. I mean, some wouldn’t even call that sex!” D looked inquisitively at his 12th. He knew that what he said was true. “Now D. Lets get me powered up to huge again like before. And this time, I’m going to show you some new tricks.” Trevor felt himself growing quickly to his previous height and musculature, the mass that he had recently had just a few minutes before. His growth paused at the place where he had been. He wanted more. It felt so good. “Bigger D. I need to be bigger. Muscle, Cock, Height. I’ll tell you when to stop. Go slowly.” “Yes Master.” Dantalion felt surges of power flowing through him in angry rivers. His Bound commanded and he would obey. He desired to obey his 12th like he wouldn’t have ever imagined. His mind expanded and grew as Trevor’s imagination did the same. He wanted to feel “sex” again. He needed to feel his balls release their god juice into the world, and he needed and wanted Trevor to be a part of it. Trevor started expanding again, his human thin but beautiful body slowly throbbing, pulsating bigger and bigger. “Yes, D, you may take liberties.” After his experience with shooting his first load, Dantalion had new ideas about what would please his master and put more mana into his Well. “Fuck, this is going to be amazing,’ both said at the same time.

Damn Hailmar! I didn't think ANYONE would even realize this. Seriously good investigation on your part - or maybe just knowledge you already have. Yes, I chose the names very specifically for various reasons. Mostly because Dantalion is a lesser djinn/demon and Bael, especially, is much more advanced an powerful, which will come into play later. And you'd also be right about their 'origins' as names go. Props for noticing this.

I had fun writing this part. Most of it was spent with my hands down my pants doing, well, you know what. It's a bit shorter than my usual, but wanted you all to experience the same -- reactions -- that I had while writing it. Part III: Dantalion had never “wanted” to please a Bound just for the sake of pleasing. It was a compulsion to please the Bound, in that way extracting more energy –or mana as the djinn called it—from the binding. That was his ultimate purpose after all: To fill his Well. Maybe something had shifted inside him, knowing that this was his final round. He felt his inner-self change a bit as he reflected on his past. He felt himself consciously let go of any bitterness, any sadness, any worry. Examining his own new mortality, after millennia of existence he found new commonality with the man in front of him and he wanted to do his very best for Trevor. Maybe that was it. But maybe this one WAS different. Trevor had already shown such inventiveness with his third wish. The look in his eyes had been near-catatonic as he watched Dantalion expand his arms and shoulders by just uttering a few words. But why was Trevor so fascinated by the simple ability to expand the djinn’s frame and musculature? He would never understand their simple linear ways of thinking. But he did internally admit, it was unique and had piqued the interest of the djinn. He peered back to Trevor who was currently taking all of his clothes off. He appeared to have not trepidation about this. Dantalion assumed that the human was so used to being naked with the women in his harem, that he had no guilt about being disrobed. Some of his previous Bound did seem more reticent in their nakedness, but not this one. Shame, especially body shame, seemed common in this species. He, of course, just chalked it up to another weakness in their design. “OK Dantalion,” Trevor shook his last sock off and stood there, 5 feet away from the ridiculously wide and powerful-looking djinn. Trevor’s cock stood at salute as he lustily glanced again over Dantalion’s impossible proportions. “Please increase my musculature and height. I would like to be 7 foot tall. I would like to be 300 pounds, most of it muscle. Give me a 10” cock. Can you do that?” “Doing that is easy, Master. Do you want to again tell me how to proceed or should I improvise?” His previous Bound did not allow him to improvise much – they had always feared that he would somehow escape their control or would become too dominant in the power differential; however, that was impossible. The djinn had only ever wanted to please his Bound. That was the way to their mana. Trevor thought a moment, “You aren’t going to do some crazy shit and hurt me or anything, are you?” The djinn was taken aback at this directness, although he had heard some of its iterations before. “No. Remember, my purpose is to satisfy and fulfill your deepest desires. Unless that desire involves your personal pain and suffering, then I will not hurt you.” He remembered his third Bound did like a bit of pain sometimes. A flash of unease flashed across Dantalion’s face when he voiced the words “pain and suffering” and this did not go unnoticed by Trevor. He could almost sense, through their connection, a retreat into a dark memory. He paused a moment before continuing. “I will allow you to improvise. But, I want it to feel good, like the best sex in the world. When my muscles and bones grow, I want it to feel like my body is just one big cock that is getting the best blowjob in the history of the world!” Trevor’s eyes were dancing, darting around, over active with thoughts of how he would soon feel. “I believe I know enough about human biology and neurochemistry to make that wish a reality. If something seems ‘wrong’ let me know immediately, Master Trevor.” “Um, excuse me Dantalion. Did you say you believe you know? Have you never felt the galaxy rocking pleasure of a good erection? Have you never blown your wad so hard that you felt as if your very soul was shooting out of you?” An incredulity of such profundity racked Trevor. Here was one of God’s most beautiful creations: muscular to the point of reaching grotesque levels, huge powerful hands, and the djinn’s dick was no laughing matter extending nearly to his knees. “I have never experienced sex, Trevor. Sensations to my body are only unlocked by a Bound’s direct instructions. I do not feel physical senses otherwise. I do not feel weight, I would not feel it if you punched me or twisted my skin, I have never experienced ‘pleasure’ as you would experience it. I have experienced some of your human sensations but none of them were pleasant.” Dantalion averted his eyes away from Trevor. There was something hidden there, but now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Trevor narrowed the gap between them and gently put his hand on Dantalion’s engorged chest. “I can’t believe you have never in your existence felt real corporal pleasure, D.” The human was truly sad for the djinn. What a hollow existence it must be to not have the ability to sensate. “We’ll fix that one day. I promise. But for now, I have some growing to do. And by the way, I’ll call you D from now on. If I call you Dantalion again, you’ll know you’re in trouble.” Trevor chuckled and put his hand on D’s chin and pulled his eyes back up to his own. “No get to work on making me huge!” Without any further announcement, Trevor felt his body beginning to burn, every cell of it. Burn in a good way, like after a long run when the endorphins have kicked in and you feel almost high. He looked down at his thin taught body and could not see any immediate changes. The burning increased near the point of being uncomfortable, but it still felt so fuckin good. Suddenly, it felt as if his skin was being licked by a thousand hungry mouths. His cock, which had lost some of it’s turgor, shot straight up again, bouncing with a ‘thwack’ on his tight abs. He felt a pulsing rhythm begin to throb inside of his core. It wasn’t his heart, it wasn’t in his lungs. It was just everywhere in his center. Throbbing. Beating harder. The tongues licked his nipples and powerful jolts shot directly into his dick. He moaned like a beast about to rut the fuck out of something. The feeling was near overwhelming. He grabbed his cock in his hand. As soon as his cock felt his hand wrapping round it, another jolt rocked him, this time spreading from his churning balls. He could feel the cum being made inside of them. His balls quivered as they grew slowly still churning. Cum swirling inside of them. He could feel invisible hot wet mouths tugging on his sack, popping one nut and then the other into their steamy holes, tonguing the bottom of his pulsating expanding balls. A gasp erupted from him as he suddenly sensed a soft tongue running along the ridge of his taint moving in a bee line toward his tight pink pucker. The tongue licked at his opening, becoming more insistent in its demand for entrance. He relaxed his chute and the tongue penetrated his sweet tight ass. It pushed and then withdrew, then repeated this over and over. He put his hand back on his cock and felt the jolt again. The mouths were sucking his nuts, playing with his ass. His nipples were being put through the best fucking workout of his life. He felt warm breath on the nape of his neck and more licks on the bottoms of his feet and the backs of his knees. He could feel hot wet mouths sucking on his toes. Then he felt his dick being sucked by the most talented mouth in the universe. He looked down and saw nothing there. He looked ahead at D who was staring directly into his eyes. Trevor felt a redoubling of D’s effort. D for his part was in a state of djinn bliss. The power being wicked away in this interaction was like nothing he had experienced before. He felt his power expanding. Giving Trevor this intense pleasure was nothing short of amazing in the mana that it produced. “Make me grow, D!” Suddenly, the sensations increased by ten-fold. Trevor’s mind was buzzing like a live-wire. He felt his skin begin to stretch and pound after pound of thick strong beef expanding his growing frame. Without warning, his now-enormous cum globes pulled up toward him. They felt angry and horny and they would not be denied. He felt a split-second pause in every sensation occurring in his mind and body…then… His mind seemed to dissolve. His prostate and its own need thrust itself to the forefront of his consciousness – pulsing, thrumming, pounding inside his groin. The sensation was cataclysmic. The world seemed to be ending, the feeling of complete and utter bliss was nearly frying his brain. He lost sense of time, of reality, of anything else. His balls throbbed and he felt a floodgate open inside of him. Thick ropes of cream erupted from his member. With every pulse of his orgasm, dozens of pounds of muscle packed themselves onto his expanding frame. With every powerful blast, he could feel himself growing taller. Without any warning, a wave of complete mind-numbing exhilaration slammed into his body. He was aware of the cock that seemed to be pushing into his tight hole, hands twisting his nipples, countless tongues and mouths on his skin, his hands wrapped around his enlarging manhood. The wave that hit him pushed him even further… He felt his orgasm become a steady state of cumming. His throbbing churning orange sized eggs pushed out continuous quarts of thick rich juice. It was not longer the normal pumping, throbbing, pulsing orgasm. It was though a firehose had been turned on. Cum flooded the inside of his body and exploded out his cock in one steady stream. He felt his growth accelerate, not growing in quick staccato spurts, but in one fluid movement now. He looked at D with wide and wild eyes. The djinn lifted a corner of his mouth in a sexy fucking smirk. He felt his growth slow and the thick rope of cum began to slow. Again he felt a pump, pump, pump as his inner G spot returned to normal ejaculation, then slowly stopped all together. He stood there, naked, in a 3 inch puddle of his own emissions. Dantalion was nearly covered head to toe in his seed. He flexed his arm in front of his chest. Veins snaked across their surface. He looked down between the chasm that now existed between his globular pecs. He could not see his feet, but he could see thick tight abs and a cock that would choke the most experienced cock sucker. He felt powerful and close to invincible. Trevor finally realized that the last few minutes had not been a dream. He was awake. He sat down on the couch in his room, leaned forward and put his head in his hands. This was real. “Have I done something to offend you, Trevor?” Dantalion probed carefully. Trevor looked up at the beastly djinn in front of him, covered in his very own spunk, and shook his head. He patted his knee and beckoned the djinn to come closer. “Sit down, my precious God.” He patted his knee again and D sat down in his master’s lap. Trevor put his arm around Dantalions waist with his right arm, and his left rested on Dantalion’s shockingly defined left pec. He leaned in and gave Dantalion a soft kiss. “Thank you, D.” His voice was shallow and ragged. His mind and body was still recovering from what had just occurred. Dantalion could feel mana flowing out of Trevor in a continuous stream. In millennia, he had never felt this much power flowing into him. “Now, its time you finally experienced what I just did.”

Part II Dantalion peered into the eyes of his final and 12th Bound. On some deep level, he felt a certain sadness knowing that this would be his final cycle, his last gasp of existence, his ultimately terminal binding. Somehow, somewhere in his apathetic soul, he understood in the moment that he was no longer immortal. He would perish just as the humans with whom he had encountered had perished. He finally had something – just one thing – in common with them. He cleared his mind for the last time, the blue flames in his eyes intensifying as he felt his physical self become searingly hot. “Blue flames are far hotter than orange ones,’ he thought fleetingly. Trevor, for his part, was still recovering from his near-catastrophic orgasm. In a daze caused by Dantalion’s ability to give him just one of his many fantasies, he realized that he had accepted the binding in haste but it was too late to back out now – and he wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. He felt is was more of a reflexive “yes” than a well thought out answer. “Trevor, all you have to do is look in my eyes. This will take but a moment and you will be in no pain,” Dantalion spoke with authority. “All you have to say are these words: Dantalion, I bind with you. I do not give you my soul unless I deed it to you freely. I accept your gifts and you accept mine.” Dantalion stared directly into Trevor, boring into his innermost parts. “Trevor, it is time.” Trevor, for his part, was still feeling residual pulses from his over stimulated prostate and cock. The image of Dantalion’s arms, shoulders, forearms, and massive hands had burned themselves into Trevor’s consciousness. But he knew that he must engage with Dantalion now in order to continue living in the dream world that he had now become a part of. “Help me remember the words, Dantalion. I still feel quite…out of sorts.” Dantalion returned to his previously demure size, assuming the form of Dante, the assistant to Trevor’s grandfather. His upper body including his biceps, triceps, forearms, and hands were still occupying almost the entirety of Trevor’s bedroom. Dantalion began to shrink back the massive muscle of his upper body – the ones that Trevor had willed into existence. Dantalion needed to focus on Trevor completely now. The djinn felt a strange kind of compassion with this being. The gentle pleading of his comments, ‘Help me remember the words, Dantalion.’ Again, this human seemed different. He was not commanding or at all disrespectful. He was considerate and did not push too far, a bit like his grandfather had been, but even more so. So many of the others had been too quick to exploit his power and they had almost never so much as considered being respectful to the source of their dominance and power. “Focus on Trevor,” he reminded himself. Dantalion began again, prompting the man in front of him. “Dantalion, I bind with you. Say that Trevor.” “Dantalion, I bind with you.” The human repeated in a near trance. “I do not give you my soul unless I deed it to you freely.” Trevor repeated as instructed but felt that this phrase was pregnant with meaning and he would require explanation about the wording in the near future. “I accept your gifts and you accept mine.” Trevor looked directly into the eyes of the djinn and repeated the words. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace, which bordered on the definition of tranquility. He felt safe. He felt confidence and power surging into him. It was profound but also sublime. No trumpeting angels or cataclysmic lightning, but warmth, determination, and fortitude. The djinn slowly approached his final Bound. Trevor was just beginning to come out of his sexual stupor. He had experienced brain-melting ejaculation from Dantalion’s biceps and triceps exposition and remains of that experience were still tickling his libido. “Now what, Dantalion? What do I do? My grandfather told me in a note that I should help you become more that you thought that you could be.” The man felt incompetent in a way. Trevor had just been gifted with the power of trillions of stars and he was beginning to realize it. He could feel it in every cell in his body. “You have given me a gift that I do not think that I deserve and may not be able to wield in any significant way.” “Trevor, what do you desire?” Dantalion’s voice was soothing and deep as a dark chocolate river. “I want to see your true form, Dantalion.” Even saying the name of the djinn now, Trevor felt energized. Somehow, speaking the name on his tongue engendered some connection to immense power. Dantalion’s eyes had finally returned to a lid-licking orange. A look of resolve passed across his face and his body began to morph. Strangely, or not, Trevor believed that Dantalion’s true form would be Earth-shattering in size and dimension. Conversely, Dantalion maintained his average-for-a-human height but began to become thicker and more substantial. He lost his thin, waifish body type but his clothes seemed to form to his new representation of himself. “Dantalion, do not hide your body. No clothes. I want to see your true form unobstructed.” Dantalion’s close-fitting suit, which had been expanding to accommodate his growing width, evaporating like the dew on a hot summer morning. Dantalion was not accustomed to requests for presentation of his body. This triggered thoughts of Trevor’s first few wishes just moments ago. This human’s fascination with his body and what it could do was so … unique and new. The djinn proceeded to expand into the form that he considered his baseline. He looked toward Trevor, just a few feet in front of him, “This is the true me, Master. I am not as powerful as my brothers and not nearly as immense as they are. I wish I were. I wish I were the djinn who would be able to grant you godhood as I ascended to the same level, but alas, I am too far behind to make that a reality.” His voice nearly caught. There were layers of emotion and history that Trevor sensed but was not ready to tackle. And why would he right now? Trevor did not understand even a word of that comment, but he knew that he had just been thrust into a world that he knew nothing about. He continued to realize that the more he knew, the more questions he had. Other djinn brothers? Godhood? Too far behind? So many questions, he did not know where to begin processing. But for now, Dantalion was transforming. That yanked his attention back to the present. In front of Trevor stood the most exquisitely beautiful and muscular man he could have imagined. Dantalion was fucking ripped beyond human capability to attain. He wasn’t tall per se. He was powerful though. His shoulders were uncommonly wide for his 5’ 11” height. They were at least 3 foot across and muscular beyond human standards with enormous muscle-capped shoulders. His waist appeared to be 26” in diameter, the dictionary definition of a wasp waist. Dantalion’s body continued to morph. More mass was driven into his quads, his calves, and ultimately his ass. And God, what an ass. Tight, high, round, hard. His abs seized into blocks the size and shape of mortaring bricks. He looked like what the word “power” would be if it were to be personified. Trevor looked at Dantalion’s form. His face was incomprehensible, smooth, without emotion. He could not identify an ethnicity or race. He had attributes of a Middle Easterner, with hints of East Asian, European, African, and Latino. His countenance was ultimately, indeterminable. The color of is skin was warm and brown, reminiscent of a dark mocha with too much milk. His face appeared to be 20 years old but with eyes conveying knowledge that hinted at thousands of years or knowledge and experience. Trevor could barely pull his eyes away. “What do we do now, Dantalion? I don’t know what to do or say. I feel so much confidence, security, and power now coursing through me.” Trevor’s eyes were locked onto Dantalion’s, their gaze not breaking since the binding just a few short moment’s ago. How could this being believe himself to be inferior to his “brothers?” The questions from a moment ago surfaced again. But again, the stunningly monstrous beast before him made him forget his questions for the time being. The djinn’s true form had finally settled in. Standing 5’ 11” with a nearly 4’ shoulder spread, huge slabs and chords of meat hung down at his sides -- massive things that resembled arms but seemed to hang lower and more powerful. Trevor thought they appeared almost ape-like from dangling so low. Dantalion’s hands were huge, with enormous meaty fingers, devastatingly thick wrists, and knuckles meant for exerting dominance and smashing things. His traps hugged his ears, not hinting, but shouting at his strength. Two billowing pecs jutted out with purpose and in almost a lewd way, like muscle porn (NSFW) with attendant nipples shoved to the floor due to a lost competition with too much chest mass. Ten vein-riddled abs tightening against each other and flowing down to a shockingly tight waist topping out at 28” max. Trevor would have to measure. He needed to measure it – it was too narrow to believe. Thick writhing meat hung off of his thick thighs like gunny sacks full of wheat and calves 28” around (the same as his fuckin waist!) packed on the lower legs below them. Dantalion was a sight to behold. Trevor was just beginning to catch on to the powerful body that was before him. When his eyes moved from Dantalion’s in an effort to absorb the totality of his djinn slave’s body, he smacked his lips. His tongue began working, trying to moisten the inside of his suddenly dry mouth. “Fuck, you are beautiful.” Dantalion was taken aback. He was not nearly as massive or beautiful as his two remaining brothers. He was always considered a runt with regard to the original 12 djinn. How could his new Bound believe him to be even remotely “beautiful?” What would Trevor say if he saw Bael or Asteroth in their true form? His bound would think him to be slovenly, unworthy, weak. He was on his last of 12 bindings and his Well was only ½ full. He had little to offer. In fact, he was more likely a risk! Why did this human make him feel this, what is the word…vulnerable? Trevor felt some sort of hesitancy on the part of Dantalion. Maybe it was the bond between them now, or maybe it was just watching the djinn’s face and the near-imperceptible mico-emotions he noticed as he complimented Dantalion’s body. “Dantalion, I’m ready for you to start granting more of my wishes. And I think this time, we should begin with augmenting MY body.” Dantalion instantly felt a surge in the energy flowing from his new Bound, Trevor, into his Well. He had not felt so much power flowing through that channel since his first binding. Trevor’s eyes narrowed and his face suddenly looked mischievous. His deepest, darkest, most depraved desires bubbled to the surface of his consciousness. “Let’s take you out for a test drive, Dantalion!” Trevor’s voice was dripping with an eagerness Dantalion had not encountered previously, but he was up for the challenge. He noticed Trevor’s cock twitch in his slacks, still wearing his funeral attire. For the first time in his existence, he wanted to please his Bound master. Where was this feeling coming from? “Dantalion, I want you to listen carefully. We need to start with some upgrades.” (Art used with permission of HardTrainer; neither he nor I have rights over the original photo)

I am perfection itself. More than that. I almost feel perfection is an insult. There are many people that say they are "perfect", but there is only one of me. And I am more than any other man can ever hope to be. A lot of people don't believe that I really exist. That I am, in fact, a real human being. They think I'm just a photo, an image created by a particularly horny and talented artist. But I'm real. I know you want to see me. But I wouldn't want you to. Because, if you did, you might not survive the experience. You see, I am an enormous man. It's sometime hard for people to even recognize that I am human, that I'm not some God who descended on this Earth and took human form. Looking at my body is like gazing up from the floor of the Grand Canyon. It makes you realize just how tiny and weak and insignifant you really are. When you stand before me, the top of your head just grazing the bottom of my pecs, and look up, all you see is my massive chest, just two beautiful round heaving mass of muscle that flex and roll and grow with every breath of my lungs. My pecs totally eclipse your body, blocking out the sun, their size so impossibly, unbelievably huge that their bulging mass occupies every inch of your sight. You take a big step back, and tilt your head up thirty degrees. Now, you are staring straight into my nipples. They're perfectly shaped, so thick and dark that you feel an overwhelming need to kiss them, to lick and such on them. Breathing, eating, living, loving - you forget all these things. You forget your family, your friends, your children, your husband or wife. Because my pecs overpower them, just with their sheer existence, the way they subtly sway and bounce like a hypnotic lapdance. You grab them, then gasp, realizing that despite their elastic appearance, they are as hard as rock. You grab tighter, then try to punch them, but your hands fail to even dent my liquid iron chest. I chuckle - a sound so deep, so powerful, so masculine that you soak your pants right where you stand - and then hug my arms around you. You freeze - not because of the shock, but because you literally cannot move. My muscles are so impenetrably hard that, if you closed your eyes, you would really believe you are trapped between rock cliffs on a mountain. You feel how strong my muscles are - that if I evenly accidentally flexed a little bit too hard, your bones would shatter like cheap plastic. Even my veins are harder than your muscles, you realize, as the vein atop my left bicep rhythmically crushes your right rib with every pump of blood. I'm pumping out so much heat, you feel like you're in an oven, my body warmth alone causing you to sweat. My arms are literally wider around than your torso is, and unlike your torso, my arms are pure muscle. I remove my left arm, relieving your upper body of an intense amount of stress, and then extend it, fully straight at a horizontal. Even held this way, completely relaxed, my arms boast size proportionally obscene. With my almost nonexistant bodyfat, you can see every single muscle head - the deltoids, the bicpes, the triceps - and the way they lazily roll over each other, bowling balls of unfathomable size, every time I make the slightest move. I twitch, and my tricep erupts, flaring out to a size that proportionally would make Mr. Olympia green with envy. Then I flex my bicep, slowly, savoring the growth of the half-moon muscle until it peaks. I gaze upon it lovingly. These are my favorite muscles. They are perfect. Nobody has ever developed arms like these in the course of human history, and nobody ever will. Then I turn my sight towards you, and you subconsciously, meet my gaze. And then you forget. You forget that I am the tallest, largest, most powerful most muscular man on Earth. You forget who you are, where you are, why you are here, what you are doing. You only see my eyes. The most beautiful things you have ever seen. My gaze is so powerful that I gain complete control over you, just with my eyes. What color are they? You forget what colors are. They are deep as the blue ocean, mysterious as the green forest, intoxicating as brown wine. You feel yourself about to cum, so overwhelmed by my unfathomable beauty, a beauty that Narcissus himself would desire. But my eyes tell you not to. Just with a single glance, I override your brain's most primal needs, override your body's nervous system, and take control. I tell you to look at my face. You moan, heart yearing with sadness. How can anyone have such full, thick lips, you wonder. Such flawless cheekbones. Such a powerful jaw. This face cannot be real. If it were real, then the human condition is to be inferior. You despair. Nobody could ever be so beautiful. No other human being, none of the billions that walk on this Earth today or in the past or in the future, none of them could improve upon my perfection. If I were to reproduce with another, my offspring would only be tainted by my partner's inferiority. I must be fake, you tell yourself. It's your brain's protection mechanism, the way you preserve your own ego, the way you preserve the egos of the billions of humans around the globe. But then I do something that proves to you, indisputably, that I must be real. I give you a kiss. Your consciousness, for all intents and purposes, ceases to exist. You are only able to experience understanding because of the tiny thread of human awareness that my eyes have gifted you. You cum, over and over and over, producing new jism like a firehose, unloading at a rate that ought to be biologically impossible. My lips have filled your body with extreme sexual fulfillment, the likes of which nobody has survived. You are wracked with endless orgasms, the only thought imprinted in your mind is the feeling of my soft lips, the way my saliva tastes like sweet honey in your mouth. Satan himself could not grant a tenth of the pleasure that I gave you from that simple kiss, an action so easy and effortless and yet so incredibly deadly. You're alive. Your body refuses to shut down. The power of that kiss, even just the memory of it, is far greater than the pull of the afterlife. I still control your body, even as it shakes and vibrates like an out-of-control fucktoy. I unsheathe my cock. Had you been conscious, you would have died instantly, the mere vision of such a terribly huge fuckweapon too unbearable for the human mind. I place your open mouth on my cockhead and push it down, ripping your hyperextended jaw in half as my penis slides between your lips, fracturing the bones of your skull. I groan in approval, enjoying the massage your rapidly quivering body provides my cock, as I slowly slide myself further and further inside you. Muscles tear, bones shatter, a once-powerful human body broken by just the force of a single massive penis. My cock makes it all the way through you, and your body disintegrates, but not before you witness my own ejaculation. In those two seconds, I unleash more cum than you have in the entire past hour, despite the fact that you have been cumming constantly. I smile at you. You die, happy, gazing into the most beautiful face anyone has ever known.