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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 4: As soon as I started cycling, lifting and eating with Frank, my body responded better than I could have hoped. The night I first agreed to take steroids, I was 18 years old, 5’9, 155 pounds. I was in good shape from swimming and running, and knew I was pretty handsome, but I looked nothing like the muscle freaks I had jerked off to since adolescence. Being roommates with Frank pushed me to the extreme faster than I could have ever gotten there on my own. Once I committed, Frank viewed me as his special project, somewhere between a mentee and a ward. He saw my mass-building as equally important to his own. To supplement my diet, Frank would bring me endless, unvarying food from the dining hall (where, as a football player, he got unlimited meals). Our mini-fridge was so full of chicken breasts and ground beef that we had to buy another one and stack it right on top. He taught me to look at food as a source of fuel, not pleasure, and once I made this accommodation, it amazed me how much I could pack away each day. My intake accelerated until I was eating 500 grams of protein daily. Frank not-very-gradually ramped me up to a high dose of tren. Not as extreme as his, of course, but enough for my already-healthy libido to shoot through the roof. Luckily, I didn't experience any of the stuff I feared: acne, mood swings, shrinking balls, etc. All the side effects I had were, frankly, very sexy. My voice deepened noticeably; dark hair started to sprout on my chest and forearms; I woke up each morning, nuzzled in Frank's pecs, with an erection so hard it was almost intolerable. Of course, the most valuable part of Frank's tutelage was in the school gym. Two brutal, grueling sessions per day, every day, except Sunday ("rest day" -- more like 120 minutes of cardio). The first time we went to work out together, I was a panicked mess, insecure to even be seen next to Frank in his gym clothes. I remember the first lift we did together. Barbell bench press. "Watch what I'm doing," Frank said, voice deeper than Vin Diesel -- but he didn't need to tell anyone to watch him. Every eye in the gym followed Frank anywhere he went. He added five 45-pound plates on each side, 495 pounds, and knocked out 8 perfect reps. You could actually see the bar bending under the weight. He was even speaking to me as he did reps, calling attention to his form. ("See my grip?" he said through gritted teeth, nipples popping out of his tank top.) Then it was my turn. We spent two minutes removing plates, then I struggled to do a single rep with one 45 on each side. My arms gave out, and Frank spotted me with one hand. At the gym, the insecurities that I'd always nursed came out in full force. All of Frank's over-the-top horniness would disappear when we got in the gym: He became cool, composed, professional. We looked bizarre working out together. I'd watch Frank curl a 260-pound bar as a warmup, his veiny, 24-inch arms so swollen they looked like they might pop. Then he'd turn around and show me how to properly curl two 15-pound dumbbells, gently correcting me if I tried to go heavier than I was able to. The gym made me realize how exceptional Frank really was. I knew he was strong, but didn't know -- until working out with him -- that he was lifting heavier weights than the Mr. Olympias I jerked off to. There was a reason he looked like this. "Hey. You know that guy?" a hulking frat boy asked me one time, after Frank had stepped away. "Yeah, he's my roommate." "Your roommate?" The frat boy was confused and, I could tell, annoyed. He was a senior, one of the most juicy, muscle-bound jocks at our college. Probably 6'0", 260 pounds. Absent Frank, he would have been my sexual obsession, the campus muscle god. Now Frank, a mere freshman, had stolen his thunder, and to make matters worse, Frank was lifting with me every day. "Yes, my roommate." "Well, you realize he's squatting 840 pounds? For reps? He could be in the Olympics." I kept asking myself: How could Frank, this fucking monster, be attracted to a weakling like me? Wasn't he impatient, showing me how to do shoulder presses with 20-pound dumbbells? Yet I soon realized that all of my fears were unfounded. Frank was an incredible trainer. His patience was endless. And his professional demeanor -- which I took as diminished attraction to me, upon seeing how weak I was -- was just how he acted in the gym. Aside from eating, lifting was just about the only time Frank could focus and not let his libido take over. The only time his dick wouldn't get hard at the drop of a hat. Within days, I was growing stronger, and I could see the pride in Frank's eyes when I improved my form or hit a new PR. My grades plummeted. I studied weight training more than my textbooks. I did the bare minimum to not get expelled, less for academic reasons than to remain on campus with Frank as long as possible. -- Five pounds of muscle a week. That's how much Frank said I'd grow. And you know what? That's exactly what happened. One week of grueling lifting and nauseating eating, and I was 160. Up five pounds exactly. And the next week, I was 165, and two weeks later I was 175. I had gained 20 pounds of muscle in one month. I was incredulous. After this initial pop, my progress slowed, of course, but it didn't stop. The next month, I gained 10 pounds. Frank doubled my tren. By April, I was 200 pounds. ("What do you mean you can't come home for spring break?" "Sorry, Dad, I really need to stay here and study.") By June, I was north of 220 pounds. I had put on 65 pounds of muscle in six months. I looked like a different person. My shoulders had made the most shocking improvement. They turned into these hairy, bulging, flat-topped melons, jutting out even from behind, making every t-shirt tight around the sleeves. A perky shelf of pecs had grown in between them, even larger and plumper than my delts, and my nips had sprouted dark hair and pointed straight down under their weight. My back exploded in size. I became double-wide. I looked absolutely absurd, with my still-boyish face atop ultra-roided, superhero-like traps, wearing shirts that became so tight they left my midriff bare. After countless hours of punishing leg workouts, my quads, ass and hamstrings were spectacular to look at. My glutes stuck out like a capital P. I grew the diamond-shaped quads I'd always fetishized. I had to beg my parents to send me money so I could buy all-new clothes, vague on the reason why. (They assumed I was getting fat, "freshman 15," etc.) Not a single thing I owned fit me anymore, but I wasn't big enough for Frank's XXL hand-me-downs either. I didn't look so ridiculous working out with Frank anymore. To say that Frank liked my transformation was an understatement. My juiced-up physique made him even more insatiable, horny for me day and night. If I wasn't eating or lifting, I was having indescribable, balls-to-the-walls sex with Frank, almost hourly -- five times per day at least. Our sexual connection didn't lose its spark. It was like a roaring inferno, consuming everything else in our lives (except for bodybuilding and, for Frank, football), and the tren was like pouring gasoline on top. -- Impressive as my own growth was, during this same period, Frank had entered his most extreme phase of bodybuilding yet. "5-5-5," he called it. "Gonna increase tren, calories and weights 5% each week for five months." As the weeks compounded, his intake of food and steroids -- already remarkable -- became completely unhinged. By the end of his five-month sprint, he was eating 30 chicken breasts per day. One every 30 minutes. He was benching 620 pounds for reps. His tren dosage was as high as he could "safely push it" (his words), according to the Reddit threads where he got most of his information about steroids. He grew even faster than me. Up 10 pounds in January, 12 pounds in February, 16 pounds in March. When Frank hit 390 pounds, our scale broke. Even the one in the football training center couldn't weigh him. We had to order a new scale, specially made in Germany for the morbidly obese. It arrived seven long weeks later, and the anticipation of weighing ourselves was one of my hottest memories from this time. In solidarity, I had held off weighing myself during that stretch, so we could both learn our progress at the same time. We knew it was going to be shocking. The scale finally arrived one week before summer break. In our little room (a disaster, a cum dump, it looked like ten horny bodybuilders had been squatting in it), we got everything ready. We both stripped off all our clothes, not that we ever wore more than jocks or tight white Calvin Klein briefs stretched to tatters by our growing muscles. I went first. "225.1" Both our cocks shot up at the same time. "Oh fuck dude... Holy shit bro...So much fuckin' muscle bro...Oh fuck, oh fuck," Frank said, his eyes going blurry. He started kneading his fingers through my perfect pecs, sniffing my pits. He stuck his powerful tongue down my throat. "Fuck James, oh my god James, you're so fucking hot..." he mumbled with his tongue in my mouth. I pushed him away. "C'mon, Frank -- now it's your turn!" Frank took a gulp and stepped on the scale. The sheer magnificence of his body standing there was too much for me. I was stroking my cock, trying hard not to cum, as the digital scale processed his weight. The screen blinked WAIT, WAIT, WAIT. The seconds felt like minutes. Then finally, STEP OFF. "429.9" We both gasped. Frank's boner started quivering and leaking pre-cum. His face went flush. We both turned and faced the full-length mirror. Suddenly, he saw himself in a new light. He realized the size that he had packed on. "Whoa...Oh my god dude...Oh my god...Oh my god bro..." Frank said, stunned by his own reflection. "UNNHHH!" We both came without touching our cocks. I still remember how our loads shot off at the exact same moment, flew 4 feet across the room, and hit the mirror with a splash. As cum dripped down the looking glass, we stared in awe of the two unstoppable, handsome, horned-up freaks gazing back at us.

Teleportation was not a form of travel Jalveth enjoyed: when expected it was a jarring experience, but when it came out of nowhere it was nauseating. The problem was that the Magisters of the Collective operated on their own schedule with scant regard for others. Jalveth took in the sumptuous furnishings of the Magister’s parlour as he tried to keep the remains of his lunch from adding to the decoration. “I take it you know why you are here?” stated the figure sat at an expansive desk without looking up from his paperwork. “No my lord,” replied Jalveth meekly and with good reason: a Magister’s word was law and they had enough power to administer any punishment they so chose. Childhood stories of what they do to those who wronged them leapt to the forefront of his mind, which he tried to repress as he hadn’t done anything wrong that might justify any form of punishment, had he? A piece of parchment levitated from the cluttered desk and floated in front of his face; it was a fairly long list: ‘Silver Goblin Trading’, ‘Griffin Claw Holdings’, ‘Black Root Alchemicals’ and others were written in a clear hand. “This is a list of accounts I administer.” said Jalveth confused, but in a contrite a fashion as he could muster. “Did you think it wouldn’t be noticed,” said the figure, looking at Jalveth for the first time since his arrival. “A crystal here, a couple of crystals there, not enough for one organisation to really notice but overall they do mount up…” “But I…” Jalveth began before a wave of paralysis suffused his entire being resulting in sudden breathlessness and a stiffness through his muscles, and to his embarrassment a similar reaction from his genitalia. “Do not interrupt,” admonished the Magister, “I am told you have a head for figures, I would have thought you more capable of covering your tracks than this; and so unoriginal, such scams have been around forever, they are even older than I.” Jalveth unable to respond was unsure how he would have if he could: he had known nineteen summers and the figure before him barely looked much older; but this was a Magister and appearances were almost certainly misleading. “We expect our computers to be intelligent, so what made you think you could get away with it?” the Magister asked looking directly at Jalveth. If the rest of his appearance did not bely his age the same could not be said of the Magister’s eyes: the black pools looked as though they had seen stars die and possibly caused them to do so. “There must be some mistake,” Jalveth squeaked, “those accounts were fine, with no crystal unaccounted for.” “Are you saying a Magister is wrong?” the man said in what seemed to be a friendly inquisitive tone. Jalveth knew better than to trust the friendly demeanour; his heart was racing as his body felt like it was betraying him: it felt hot and constrained in his clothes, not to mention he was so hard it was throbbing despite the situation, was there something about the Magister’s voice that made him feel this way? Jalveth couldn’t discount the possibility. Not that his mind was faring much better, it kept speculating on what punishments the Magister may enforce that Jalveth had trouble focusing on the situation he found himself in. “Of course not my lord,” he found himself saying, “merely that you have not been given all the information,” and wondered to himself just how he would justify that claim. “So enlighten me,” said the Magister with a tone that suggested there was nothing he didn’t already know, “who else had access to those accounts? One of your colleagues perhaps?” “No-one at the Counting House could have done it, would have done it,” replied Jalveth emphatically, “they are my friends, my family they have been nothing but helpful since I arrived at the Collective.” “And you are sure of this?” said the Magister clearly showing his view on the matter. “Only one bonded to the accounts would be able to change them.” said Jalveth firmly, “the only one bonded is…” and he trailed off as he realised the implications while the Magister just smiled at him. “Please,” Jalveth begged, “let me speak to my colleagues, maybe they will have some idea how this has happened.” “Oh you won’t be returning to the Counting House.” said the Magister, “By your own admission it is clear you are responsible: either it is deliberate for which you need punishing or accidental which shows you to be a liability; either way you cannot be trusted to look after the finances of others.” “But my smarts, my skill with numbers, that’s all I have,” wailed Jalveth as he prostrated himself before the Magister. Bringing his hands together in a begging gesture caused an audible ripping noise from his tunic and Jalveth looked at his body for the first time since his arrival. The reason for the constrained feeling was now obvious: he was larger than he should be, his slim scrawny build was replaced by a somewhat more athletic one. “There are many ways to serve the Collective,” said the Magister, “and if your suitability is wrong then we can easily change it, there are many positions that require less cerebral acumen and more physical presence such as soldier or labourer or…” “Please don’t make me a pleasure slave!” Jalveth begged crying. “Oh so you know about the pleasure slaves then,” the Magister stated, “just by reputation, or have you partaken?” “My colleagues organised it, they said it was a rite of passage.” replied Jalveth but his focus was diverted by the figure that had magically appeared in the chamber. He was magnificent: large powerful legs supported a strongly defined core, but still with a fairly narrow waist, which in turn were surmounted by a pair of pronounced pectorals that competed for space with a pair of massive arms, but the crowning achievement was the huge organ protruding from his groin. It arced up through the deep valley of the pecs and stopped just below where a beautiful face was waiting. It was only the expression and look behind the eyes that let the figure down for Jalveth: there was little sign of intelligence or even awareness there. The figure had not reacted to its translocation and it seemed was awaiting any sort of instruction for a while, which means it stood motionless for some time. Eventually, whether it finally realised nothing was forthcoming, or more likely just following its baser instincts moved to take the massive head of its member in its mouth and started pleasing itself. Jalveth watched mesmerised as the figure bounced its pecs, together and separately, to stimulate the shaft of its immense penis in complete oblivion to its surroundings. Not that the figure was the only one. “I said what was it like to be fucked by a pleasure slave,” said the Magister testily, completely ignoring the figure’s arrival. “Huh,” said Jalveth distracted, “but I didn’t…” and when his brain caught up to his mouth felt the need to clarify: “I wanted to but it was so large and I got scared and just spent the time worshipping his body.” “You do know they are ensorcelled to provide only pleasure and no pain?” Asked the Magister in a flat tone to which Jalveth gave a slow calculated nod. “Ensorcelled by a Magister, so which is it you doubt, our skill or our power?” Jalveth doubted neither as both were clearly evident in the way his tunic burst in multiple places from the strain, he could feel his bulging biceps resting on his protruding chest, neither adjective would anyone have considered attributing to Jalveth before now. His breeches had so far still remained intact but it was clear they would not remain so if he underwent another growth spurt. The bulge at the front was large and the confined space was beginning to pinch uncomfortably. “Ah I see how it is, this all makes sense,” said the Magister looking at Jalveth who was exploring the changes in his body with his hands, but his eyes were still focussed on the activities of the third person in the room. “It is because you are jealous of the pleasure slaves.” the Magister said as a statement of fact and not a question. “Well who wouldn’t be?” replied Jalveth, “after all they were made by the Magisters as perfect physical specimens. Are you doubting the Magister’s skill? Or their power?” Jalveth groaned internally as he realised what he had just uttered, how stupid was he to rile one who had so much power, Jalveth braced himself for the inevitable consequences. Which never came, instead the Magister just laughed, “I suppose I could have phrased that better, tell me were you happy in the Counting House?” Jalveth nearly blurted out ‘of course’ but thought better of it, “I had a job I could do easily, colleagues that supported me, and it paid enough to meet my needs.” Jalveth eventually said carefully choosing his words. “But did that make you happy?” said the Magister in a tone that was clear that he knew the answer but wanted to hear Jalveth say it. “No,” Jalveth admitted, “the work was dull, I did it because I could and not because I wanted to; my colleagues were friendly because they were my colleagues and not because of me and while my needs were met there was little extra for anything else.” “And then you met a pleasure slave, you thought you would be the superior one in the situation despite his physical attributes you were the free one, the one with the intellect; however, you realised that of the two of you only he was happy with his life and you were envious of that.” explained the Magister. “But he was so stupid,” retorted Jalveth, “all he could do was grunt or talk in a monosyl…, a mono…, in one word answers and only then about his body or sex.” At the mention of the word sex the third person in the room ceased their self-ministrations and moved towards Jalveth seductively; the giant ever-erect penis bouncing back and forth as he moved until he came to a stop in front of Jalveth and took up a pose that showed off his muscular body. Jalveth gulped involuntarily as he forced himself not to lean forward, not to touch and was fighting an impulse to join him in flexing. The Magister continued to act as though the other man was not even in the room. “Really, you were stuck in a role you despised in a life you thought had no meaning, whereas he was someone who really enjoyed his work, who would be thrilled to be in the company of his colleagues and whose needs and desires were both met without his input. That is what you were jealous of, that is why you wanted to be him.” elucidated the Magister. “But I don’t want to be dumb, my intelligence, my skill with numbers is all I have, it’s all I am!” Jalveth exclaimed, tears running down his face. “But has that intelligence ever made you happy, or is it what is holding you back from getting what you really want?” The Magister began. Jalveth opened his mouth to respond but stopped when the Magister raised his hand. “It was your ‘intelligence’ that stopped you experiencing the joys of that pleasure slave. It is the same ‘intelligence’ that is trying to plan a way out of this but is ignoring your desires, it is not even realising they are showing themselves anyway.” Jalveth looked confused and was surprised when the pleasure slave gently wiped the tears from his eyes. The Magister continued, “ You were the one to suggest being turned into a pleasure slave, in fact it is what you have been thinking about since you arrived in my chamber; I wonder if your subconscious forced you to make those mistakes to bring us to this outcome.” “But I didn’t, I wouldn’t…” Jalveth sobbed, “I don’t know what you want from me?” “Simple,” answered the Magister, “I just want you to tell me what you want, what you really want.” Jalveth knew he was stuck, his strategy had been to tell the Magister exactly what he wanted to hear, but clearly what the Magister wanted to hear was what was clearly something that was not intelligent to say; as such his thoughts led in circles as his brain tried to find a way out of the contradiction. In the confusion this meant that his mouth was operating unsupervised, “I want to be a pleasure slave,” Jalveth mumbled quietly. “Sorry what was that?” said the Magister who had clearly heard what he said. “I want to be a pleasure slave!” Jalveth said louder and with more conviction, “I want to be so dumb that I don’t know what a number is, let alone what to do with one! And I want to be so big that anyone who sees me will be awestruck to the point where they can’t think of them either! I want to spend my days having sex with anyone, with everyone! But most of all I want to be happy!” “There, that wasn’t so difficult,” said the Magister, “I think you deserve a reward for your honesty.” and with that the pleasure slave moved behind Jalveth with clear intent. Jalveth was confused, how did that make any sense? Just saying what should have been a bad idea somehow was going to see him receive the sex he had foolishly denied himself in the past? Magisters may have tremendous power but Jalveth wasn’t entirely sure of their sanity. Not that was his most pressing concern: he was harder than he’d ever been before in his entire life; but as his breeches burst from the strain the nature of this ‘reward’ became obvious. His erection was growing at a rate that was clearly visible to the eye and from the heat that pervaded his body that growth was not limited to his sex organ. Jalveth’s mind was not willing to go without a fight, and following his earlier declaration was repeating simple random multiplication to prove it couldn’t be banished that easily. ‘Four by twelve is forty-eight’ The pleasure slave removed the remains of Jalveth’s tattered clothing by ripping them off his body ‘Seven by eight is fifty-six’, the pleasure slave put his hand on Jalveth’s surprisingly hairy rear and Jalveth shot the biggest load of his life which stopped him thinking of anything for a while. When he came to his senses he looked down to see that his cock had reached his large hairy pecs. Jalveth had always been ashamed of his body hair and considering that both the pleasure slave in the room and the one he’d encountered earlier had smooth bodies it was a surprise that he not only retained his body hair, it was not thinned out by the muscle growth, but if anything was denser, thicker and more widespread. ‘Eight by five is fuckty… er forty’ Jalveth thought as he reached down to check on his balls, his stance had widened to accommodate the size of his legs and that gave his balls which were significantly larger, and hairier, more room. Jalveth gave them a squeeze and was rewarded with another large load. ‘Seven by four is… forty?’ Jalveth thought as he flexed a large hairy arm and watched as it grow before his eyes. ‘Six by nine is… six by nine is…, six by… sex…, sex!’ Jalveth thought as his cock was now at a point where he could easily take it into his mouth; which he did so with gusto. What looked up after he shot yet another huge load, this time into his hungry mouth which he slurped up greedily, was in no way bothered by multiplication; with numbers at least. It looked down on the pleasure slave before it and realised he was bigger than the man in all aspects including height. “Me big,” it said eventually. The pleasure slave took the opportunity to caress Jalveth’s furry bulk: gently stroking the soft hair across the bulging muscle. Jalveth wanted to tell him how attractive he found the man, what he wanted to do to him and what he wanted from the man but the words weren’t there. Eventually he settled on a single word that expressed all his feelings: “Fuck” “Fuck?” came the reply from the pleasure slave. “Fuck!” replied Jalveth with a smile and pulled the other pleasure slave into a passionate embrace. “Oh Boys!” called a voice from near a large bed, the only furniture in the room. For some reason Jalveth had a feeling something was wrong about that, but he couldn’t see what would be wrong with a hot guy calling him over to a bed. The Magister moved his hand and his clothing vanished revealing a tight muscular body and what would be considered a large cock in any other company, he kneeled on the large bed pushing his rear seductively in the air. A test for the new pleasure slave, which was on the way to scoring high marks as the Magister felt the tickle of a soft beard before a tongue masterfully worked at his hole. The other pleasure slave was before him and the Magister had no hesitation in taking as much of his manhood into his mouth as he could. In other circumstances the Magister would have grown his body to match them and switched off for a night of mindless debauchery; alas he had other duties that needed attending beforehand, primarily figuring out just who had framed Jalveth in the first place. If the young man had used the intellect he’s claimed to possess to be more suspicious of his colleagues then maybe he wouldn’t be in this position, using his tongue to devastating effect, as his naivety must have played a part in being chosen as the scapegoat. That and his appearance: Jalveth may not have realised with his insecurities but he was a very attractive man; to the extent that the Magister had little to do to his countenance in his transformation, essentially just making sure his face fit with the massive hairy muscle-bound moron he’d become, and frankly the beard had done most of that work for him. People think that magic can do anything, and by and large it can, but it still has its limitations. Even with knowing what was done the Magister could think of seven ways that Jalveth’s credentials could have been faked and was not arrogant enough to consider that to be an exhaustive list. Add to that not knowing who, when or why led to too many variables. The Magister had a spell trying to resolve it but with the lack of information would take a long time to report; it would be very surprising indeed if framing Jalveth was the whole point of the endeavour, so it was a matter of time before the real plot revealed itself and may well do so before his spell had concluded. So the Magister was relying more on a non-magical ploy: Jalveth. He felt the bulbous head of the new pleasure slave’s massive prick teasing his hole and the ecstatic thrill when it pushed home. Once the fate of Jalveth was announced to his colleagues the Magister expected them to lay low for a while, time they are likely to spend enjoying this very position with the new slave. Whether it will be regret about what they have done to Jalveth, or to gloat about it and fooling a Magister the culprit will have no qualms in confessing everything to someone they know doesn’t understand what they are saying. Pleasure slaves have a built-in aura of isolation that protects their clients from attack or interference when they are at their most vulnerable. The feeling of absolution at disclosing their darkest secrets and only receiving pleasure as a response was nearly as big a draw as the pleasure the slaves could bestow. Of course the slaves may not be able to understand but that didn’t mean the couldn’t listen, and repeat everything they heard to any curious Magister, but the populace would rather assume any information was discovered by magic. Jalveth would have his revenge, even if he now didn’t care about it, and his guilty former colleagues would learn there are worse punishments than becoming a pleasure slave. As for Jalveth, the Magister thought as both slaves unloaded in him simultaneously, he was too exquisite a prospect to relinquish. The Magister had considered his personal harem big enough but knew that when this was resolved there would be a place for Jalveth, one where he would have the very happy life he wished for.

Welcome I am Roma your new cell mate, I am 6ft1 and 325lbs, I see the lust in your eyes, looking at my 25 inch biceps, come here buddy and put your hand around them, oh a little close I can feel your hard-on rubbing up against my dick, feels like you have an impressive piece of meat, what is it 8 inches? Very nice, I like your build too, 5' 11" and 270lbs? that's a nice weight, I think we are gonna have a lot of fun with each other, and with the other inmates. I am versatile and love take it as hard as I can give it, I love taking a thick dick like yours in my mouth and up my ass, I am hard as rock now, oh yeah grab the fucker hard, take it out, yeah I am not small either 9x7 with bull balls full of cum. Turn around I wanna see that mancunt, ehmm nice Beefy hairy ass, let me get at it, it feels so nice in my calloused hands, I need to get my tongue in there, oh fuck it tastes fucking delicious. Oh fuck, look what you made me you have made me cum, just by rimming your fantastic hole, quick get on your knees before I finish cumming, take it in your mouth but don't swallow it, spit half of it out and lube your cock up with it, and spit the rest onto my hole, Oh yeah get your fingers into my shoot. Ehhh fuck you are not shy, fuck you are finger fucking me with 4 fingers, fuck open me up, oh shit, I need your cock in my hole breed me. God damn it might be shorter than my cock, but it feels as thick as a fist, oh yeah, fuck me, fuck me harder, hurt me, you are good at this. Hold let's change position let me get on my back I want to see you fuck me, oh you are so handsome, your tongue feels so good, you are a great kisser. Fuck you are fucking me like a machine, I can feel you swelling inside me, I can tell you are close, breed me buddy, get me pregnant, fill me with your cum, oh fuck you cum as much as me. You pull out whilst still cumming, grab my head and push your thick 8x8 ass destroyer in my mouth and flood me with your load, it tastes fucking delicious. You take your cock out and kiss my cum filled mouth, let's get a rest for 5 minutes and then I want to fuck your brains out. 7 notes

No one was quite sure who started the Alpha Alpha Alpha fraternity. It kind of came up out of nowhere without a clear origin or history on the outskirts of the Groff College campus, its members taking up residence in a kind of run down fixer upper type three story house. Marcus wasn't even sure if the college recognized it as an actual fraternity because there were never any advertisements during rush week, but that didn't stop Alpha Alpha Alpha from making waves on campus. You could spot any of the brothers from damn near a mile off. Because they were fucking huge. Each frat brother was a sculpted mound of muscular perfection. To say each one was jacked would have been a tremendous understatement. Each man had some insane muscle definition that would make any man jealous. Marcus himself had a good build being a mountain biking enthusiast, but the muscle bros of Alpha Alpha Alpha took everything he had and made it look tiny. With just a little polish each one could easily pass for a competitive bodybuilder if that was what their true aspiration was, and these were just college guys mind you. It was impossible to understand how the fuck they looked like that outside of occupying most of their time at the campus gym where it seemed like each frat brother worked out seven days a week. There was always at last one brother working out at any given but during prime hours the entire student body got to ogle and marvel at the display of walking beefcake men in peak physical form. There was one particularly large guy, which is kind of an absurd term to apply because they were all large, that Marcus would watch every time he could get the chance too. His name was Thor which was fitting because he could easily give Chris Hemsworth a run for his money. It was always a sight seeing the muscles in his body ripple as he did squats with at least five times the weight of his own PR. The way he raised and lowered the immense weight was fucking hot and, no lie, it sometimes gave Marcus a stiffy that had to be taken care of in the shower room afterwards. That kind of shit was happening a lot in the past couple months and it wasn't easy trying to figure out why. It didn't really feel weird to get erect while watching these guys lift, hell it kind of felt natural in a sense, but it was odd having the urges to seek them out on campus and catch more glimpses whenever the occasion presented itself. What was kind of strange was watching how quickly a new pledge would become a walking muscular god. Marcus knew this one freshman named Richy who became a pledge the second he heard about the frat. He was a kind of a nerdy skinny red head kid that Marcus' got to know his first week of school during the social events. The kind of dude who might wear a pocket protector during bio lab or something. He was a total dweeb when they first met but after six months of pledging at Alpha Alpha Alpha, Richy had easily gained fifty pounds of muscle! The dude turned himself into a fucking fitness model with broad shoulders and toned abs that Marcus would stare at like he was a horny teenager. It didn't seem physically possible that he would have bulked up to that extent so fast without juicing up, and maybe he was, but it didn't seem to make sense. Richy was one of the smaller members of the frat but he still had lots of beef on his frame that just didn't seem possible to do in under six months. The whole scenario made no sense but that didn't stop the frat from getting pledges left and right. Richy still seemed friendly enough and still recognized him on campus when they saw one another in passing. He could swear that he smiled when he noticed Marcus checking him out. What shocked Marcus the most about the former dweeb's transformation was his sexual prowess, not that he had the chance of banging Richy himself, he could only dream of that shit, but because of Richy's sudden desire to bone anyone that breathed. Turned out the little red headed nerdy virgin was now a fucking stud with a big donkey dong between his legs. Yeah, Richy had an eight-inch pecker swinging between his newly toned legs and was apparently good at using it too. That had to be the benefits of the cocktails or whatever shit the frat members were getting plied up on to look like super studs. And it was legit fucking eight inches of dick. Marcus stole a glance once in the showers after a workout when Richy was waiting for the next stall to free up. Even in repose it was just dangling there like a meat lollipop. What the fuck did those guys eat to get those sorts of huge proportions? Was it some steroids concoction, a shot of HGH, maybe a batch of an experimental drugs... fuck, whatever it was they were really putting it to use as far as making their new members more hulking and muscular. The thing is... the thought of growing muscle like that kind of sounded... nice. Marcus always enjoyed going to the gym but he wouldn't really consider himself a gym rat or anything and his work outs were all kind of routine. The thing is the brothers in Alpha Alpha Alpha looked and had bodies of fitness models, that wasn't an overstatement or over blown hyperbolic description, those frat meatheads did legitimately look like their bodies were photoshopped. All he wanted was a piece of the pie, something that could help him put on some muscle and feel the sort of hard rock definition that all those Greek behemoths were rocking. It would do wonders for his dating life and it would look good having muscle instead of fat on his body when he was vacationing on summer break. So one faithful day Marcus saw Richie and Thor taking turns spotting each other during leg day and he figured if he could somehow slip by and strike a conversation, talk to them, maybe there'd be a chance they'd tell him what was actually going on. Before he could casually slide into their vicinity the two studs had left for the showers. Without much to lose, and with only his curiosity pushing him on, Marcus decided to follow after them and try and snoop on their conversations, or maybe even spy through the window at what they looked like soaped up in the shower. So off he went hoping his hunch wouldn't end up blowing up in his face. Marcus crept into the locker room and stood just outside the hallway to the showers were he heard the voices of the two studs. "Man, you were really hammering away at that weight. Nice job today bro." Thor boomed and Richy replied "Yeah I finally think I might be catching up to you dude. That set was no joke, but I didn't even feel a drop in strength till the fifth set. I used to really struggle with that weight." Thor nodded and casually undressed, slipping out of his tank and basketball shorts. The naked muscled behemoth casually stretched a bit before sauntering into the nearest shower stall in a way that told Marcus he was absolutely showing off for the red head. The blonde's body looked ridiculously well sculpted with a fat cock to boot. His massive torso was perfectly proportionate to the bulky muscles that topped out his biceps, shoulder caps, lats, glutes, quadriceps, calves, the whole fucking works. Every single inch looked to be corded and cut muscle that made the blonde guy's ass so bouncy and firm, Marcus had a real hard time prying his eyes away as the dude rubbed soap all over that thickly muscled frame. The guy's package, heavy and low hung with huge testicles, had him outright gawping. What the fuck had he been eating to get that large. Jesus he was huge. Ten fucking inches. Soft. "You about done checking out my ass Richy, or should I do another flex?" "Fuck yea bro!" Richy blushed, fumbling over himself to get to the larger jock and placed his hands right atop the jock's round mounds of bubbly beefy muscle. "Fuck you're so firm. Dude I love your ass so fucking much. Do a pose bro." Richy quickly backed away with his penis quickly reaching full erect height as he watched the giant blond hulk get back under the shower, raise up his leg and stick out his ass so the muscles popped up beautifully. Marcus was just frozen watching the spectacle, his penis aching at the thought of feeling how hard and muscular the blonde was there. Richy grabbed two big handfuls and tugged the cheeks apart, the water trailing down between the blonde's huge, thick, round ass. Slowly, Thor bent over and spread his hands against the wall, giving Richy (and unknowingly Marcus) a display of his enormous back and shoulder muscles, as well as his colossal bulging deltoids and thick, long muscular arms. The sexy bulging traps rose, and fell, with his steady breathing and arms flexed hard as he braced himself, showing thick veins running over the peaks. Richy simply couldn't stop staring at all that, he was like a dog salivating in front of a steak. Thor’s cock was pumping up with each beat of his heart as well, working the flaccid rod to a half erect state. Richy on the other hand was fully erect, his body almost humming with tension. All he could focus on were Thor's thick muscular buttocks, each one seemingly perfectly balanced on his spread legs and lightly swaying when he wiggled them, a slight bounce accompanying the motion. With both hands gripping tightly, the studly ginger placed the tip of his throbbing cock at the firm ass of his frat bro. “Watching you lift got me fucking hard, man. I worked my ass with those squats to get ready for this man. I know you want to fuck me, Richy. That cock looks like it’s hard as steel and ready to go. C’mon man, plow my hole. Fuckin’ give it to me, bro.” With no further preamble, the formerly nerdy redhead eagerly slid forward with his throbbing cock clutched firmly in one fist, pressing the head of his slick pole into his frat buddy's tight anus. Thor grunted appreciatively at the welcome feeling of fullness his friend's thick meat was giving his huge hard body, clamping his anal walls tight around it. “Oh god. Fuck. Holy shit. You’re so tight, man. Squeezing my cock fucking HARD, man. You’re so fucking hot man, making me so hard. Your huge fucking body is so sexy, so strong. God your so fucking big, man.” Richy leaned forward and pressed his body against the hulking blonde underneath him, his big arms encircling the muscle stud’s torso and feeling up his huge muscles. He caressed each bulging slab of meat he could get his hands on and squeezed everywhere he could, especially the blonde’s sensitive nipples. Thor moaned heavily, leaning his head back and letting his long golden locks shower his hard back. He grunted as he relished the stimulation he was getting from his frat bros delicious dick filling him. The feeling of the hard cock filling him was intense and erotic. He loved the sensation of being penetrated and the blonde god leaned back into Richy's thrusts, driving the smaller man to directly slam into his prostate. Richy gasped in disbelief as the angle of his strokes was forcibly changed but rose to the challenge and stood on his tiptoes to push his rock-hard meat all the way in, balls deep. The intense fucking began in earnest, their sweaty, muscled bodies slapping together loudly, echoing throughout the small shower room. "Yeah man," The huge blonde jock encouraged, bucking his hips backwards and forwards with increasing desperation, "Fuck my huge ass. I know you're close bro. Come on, give it to me man. Fill me up!" The combination of Richy’s hands on his massive muscles, a strong cock pounding his prostate and the hot and sweaty friction of the fuck sent the blonde over the edge and Thor roared out as his seed burst from the tip of his fat meat, covering the wall before him with over a dozen voluminous volleys of his fertile spunk. Feeling his bro’s anus clench and spasm around his hard meat set Richy off and with one last deep thrust he went as far as he could, clutching his hips hard around the blond giant and released his cum deep up the jock's anus. "GODDD YEEAAAAHH!!" Richy exclaimed, his hips jerking through his orgasm as the blissful euphoria of sexual satisfaction rippled throughout his studly physique. Marcus felt a ping of jealousy as he saw the look of unimaginable pleasure that adorned Richy's handsome face as he shot his hot virile semen deep into Thor’s ass. He unleashed so much hot jizz that it began seeping out of Thor's well-plowed anal passage and down the brute's muscular thighs, leaving a thick pool on the bottom of the shower. But just as Marcus thought they were finished; Richy began to moan. The smaller ginger was obviously feeling a newfound source of bliss as his hands were roaming all over his body, groping and squeezing his muscles. Richy's looked like he was bouncing his pecs, thickening his already large chest up and as his pecs popped out in stark relief. His arms seemed to be getting bulkier as well, filling out his body nicely. His entire torso seemed to have gotten harder and more chiseled, becoming a lot thicker than it ever was before. The muscles in his abs rippled and shifted and became more prominent and then his waist tightened up to complete the hot look of an Adonis. His ass plumped outward with each thrust of his hips and the legs keeping him steady swelled and rippled with new cords of muscle. Marcus stared in slack jawed disbelief. This wasn't a trick, or someone pranking him or some other bullshit. That sexy little dweeb had just had his muscles swell and grow after dumping his hot load into some other dudes ass. What the fuck was he looking at? It made no sense. Yet the more Marcus watched his former friend play with his growing muscular form and worship himself, the hotter he felt. Seeing those muscles swell in the blink of an eye and seeing Richy’s body get even bigger with rapidly growing slabs of beef made his mind start thinking of what it would feel like to grow his own muscles. It looked amazing, it was probably the hottest sight he had seen, and his body was heating up the more he watched the ginger transform. Richy, still moaning, slowly removed cock from Thor’s tight hole and Marcus’ jaw hit the floor when he noticed. Richy's dick was bigger, longer, harder, and covered in throbbing veins. It looked like it had added almost another solid half-inch of girth and at least one inch in length. Now his semi-limp member swung like a salami, looking about nine inches in length with a sizeable girth that would match the average mans wrist. Thor didn't seem surprised and only grinned back as the shorter man continued to feel himself up and moan like a bitch in heat. “You’re a fucking stud now, Richy. You’re bigger, stronger, more pumped , and an even better fuck. Shit man, you look like you’re about to unleash the beast all over again.” Thor chuckled as Richy slowly came down from his high and held the man’s gaze, his cock still throbbing with need. "Yeah man. Wow it feels fucking incredible. I feel so damn sexy dude, like I could lift for hours. Fuck for days. I'm fucking hot as shit bro. Is this what you feel all the time?" Thor only grinned in response. The gargantuan blonde left his muscled redheaded frat brother to adjust to his new body. Stepping out of the shower the blonde's fat member swung between his powerful thighs and his sculpted ass bobbed with each step as he strutted out of the shower. Without thinking , Marcus tore his eyes away from the studly ginger and quickly ducked down into a private changing stall to avoid being seen. He watched Thor drying his statuesque body with a towel, grinning his stupid sexy blonde grin in the reflection as he rubbed down his swollen muscles. They hadn't seemed to change, the same thickness, the same sharp chiseling of each muscle group. It was Richy that had ballooned up with sexy new muscles, but Thor seemed to have enjoyed it all the same. As the stud finished toweling himself off and dressing from his locker, he suddenly stopped with his back to Marcus. "I know you want it. I wanted it too. Come visit us at the house and we'll open the door to your new life." The muscular blonde spoke loud enough that there was no doubt his words were directed toward him. Without a moment's delay he was walking out the door whistling and without a backwards glance. *** More parts in the works as I finish editing them. I'm really shit at editing so it might take some time. If there are any glaring grammatical errors please point them out and i'll fix them quick. Hope you all enjoyed.

Ok wow, this story is fantastically HOT. I love, it. Thank you so much. The writing is superb. The dialogue is so sexy. I don't know what it is, but "bro-talk" during sex scenes has always been something that rings my bell lol. And finally, the muscle sex is scorching! Thank you for writing some of the hottest muscle sex scenes I've read in a long time. Often times, sex scenes, even on this site, are written as two muscular guys...having regular sex. But you put extra focus on the muscles during. While they were fucking there was lots of flexing, feeling, kissing, licking, groping, and of course, talking about the muscle! ...we love that stuff! I wish there were more of it. As an example, ff I'm being honest, man-buns are a huge turn off for me, but Chapter 3 was so hot I was able to look past that . And I really like that all the frat guys seems like nice dudes. Please continue!

Back in his dorm Marcus tossed and turned and finally woke with a start, unable to truly sleep. His mind was elsewhere, fixated on the hunks from Alpha Alpha Alpha. It was obvious now the frat boys were something special or doing something very illegal. Marcus wracked his mind for any possible natural explanation but kept drawing blanks. How could Richy, a former twig and string bean, bulk up fifty pounds in a couple months? All Marcus' mind could conjure were magic potions, strange ancient ceremonies, ritualistic rites, or some deal-with-the-devil type situation. Whatever he thought up thought didn't matter because what he saw was real. And whatever it was, obviously worked. After trying and failing to go back to sleep, Marcus sat up and checked the clock: 5:50. Damn, only 10 minutes from his alarm. Irritated with himself, Marcus dressed and left in a hurry, snagging a quick bite to eat before dashing off to his 7:00am class, probably too early. He arrived near the lecture hall with a whopping 45 minutes to spare and sat outside the closed doors, flipping through Grindr on his phone. He noticed some of these men were big too, like the frat bros, but not as enormously huge. He flipped through several potential matches and stopped at one of the profiles. Jason. What an intimidating and gorgeous dude. A marble statue come alive, cut and ripped and even had a sculpted V-line down to his thick shaft that could be seen straining the fabric of his high end khakis. Jason wasn't nearly as ripped or humongously hung as the rest of the AAA gang, but it was not far behind, perhaps rivaling the top 1% of those on the app. Marcus quickly swiped right and closed his phone, feeling his erection start to strain his pants. Marcus then suddenly jolted when he heard the unmistakable Grindr notification coming from down the hall. There was a brief and tense silence as Marcus froze with fear until suddenly his own app sputtered out the same distinctive notification. Marcus fumbled with his phone, nearly dropping it, before glancing at his phone and discovering a new message from Jason. "Well hey there, cutie." One more appeared in quick succession as Marcus opened his messages. "I heard that." After a few seconds a new message came over, this time with a picture. The image was a head-cut-off selfie of a hugely muscular man dressed in very nice business casual in what appeared to be a small classroom. Marcus couldn't tell if it was a lecture hall, office, or small meeting room but knew immediately it was a room in this building, somewhere. Another image came over that focused on the huge man's midsection, clearly showing the outline of his muscular abs beneath the thin white shirt and vest the strong guy wore. His thighs in dark brown khakis were obscenely thick, the muscles filling the garment quite snugly and hinting at absolutely powerful quads and hamstrings. Even the crotch of his khaki slacks bulged and strained, looking like an erect pole was trying to break free. Another came in displaying his thick round ass and the legs beneath it which flexed as he turned and posed for the picture, straining the fabric of his pants to the breaking point. A new message interrupted Marcus's leering. "Where are you? I can hear those pings." He almost panicked before replying: "Outside the lecture hall." "I know the one. Go down the hall, and up the stairs to the 3rd floor. Room 314." Marcus jumped up immediately and bolted down the hallway, trying not to look suspicious, but probably failing. Luckily, almost no one else was out this early. Once at the stairs Marcus leaped up them two at a time to the third floor where he scanned for room 314. Almost tripping in a near sprint Marcus turned the last corner and found it tucked away in the corner of the building, away from prying eyes. Marcus' heart skipped a beat as he opened the unlocked door, slipping into a small dark classroom. The room was silent except for the hum of old air conditioning units on the windows and was obviously empty. Marcus closed the door gently, trying his hardest not to alert anyone that might be nearby. He flipped on the lights, set down his bag, and waited. After a few minutes he could hear thumps of heavy foot falls approaching from down the hallway, headed towards him. Thump. Thump. Thump. The door swung open, in walked the man from the images, Jason. The Adonis' shoulders barely made it through the doorframe without knocking into them and he took up an extraordinary amount of space for such a small and secluded classroom. Jason's bulging body was covered with a smart green blazer, dark brown khaki pants and a white button up shirt. His sandy brown hair tied up into a tight bun, his hazel eyes locked with Marcus as a devilish smile curled his perfect lips. "Well now," he purred softly, moving further into the classroom, letting the door close with a soft thump. "Marcus, I take it?" The buff well-dressed bodybuilder was even more hulking than the pictures suggested. Marcus had difficulty gauging exactly how huge Jason really was when only seeing images, but the buff jock's proportions made his suit look as though it was 2 sizes too small for his body and looked almost painted on. This wasn't helped at all by the fact that his bulky arms stretched the expensive suit jacket tightly, causing the button-down shirt to be plastered against his abdomen revealing a teasing glimpse of the well-defined eight pack abs and lines down his midsection. The incredibly muscular brunette easily cut a fine figure in a suit, especially since his arms seemed too large for the garment's sleeves. Marcus watched as the huge man closed the gap between them and instinctually took a half step backward, though there was nowhere to go. "Yeah," the smaller, younger, and undeniably nervous man stammered, averting his eyes for a moment. "Why so timid Marcus?" Jason inquired as he continued his. Marcus took a deep, nervous breath and summoned every ounce of confidence he possessed before looking the god of a man in his eyes again. He took an unsteady gulp. His handsome face relaxed into a kind smile. "That's better. There's no need for bashfulness here. I can tell by tent in your pants that you are just as happy to see me as I am to see you." His sexy voice was calm, relaxed and a tad amused, in no way confrontational. Each word he spoke oozed sexual authority and it was all that Marcus could do not to grab his own burgeoning cock as it attempted to strain out through his jeans. "You seem tense. Uneasy. I think you need a bit of relaxation, no? Here, let me help." The smartly dressed adonis suddenly unbuttoned his expensive green blazer and slipped out his large strong arms from the confines of the well-tailored jacket and draped it across the back of a desk. With the extra space the material on the chest area was pulled even tighter against the jock's broad muscular physique and showed the insane cuts in his arms and round pectorals jutting out from his chest. With a smooth and practiced motion, Jason knelt before Marcus and undid his fly with one hand and unzipped it, revealing his hardening cock. Marcus let out a deep groan as Jason's fingers freed his erection from its fabric prison. A slight grin grew upon the fine man's sensuous lips as his perfectly formed mouth encircled the throbbing erection before him. Marcus felt his legs buckle and threaten to give out under the intense pleasure. The smaller man almost fell over as he sat his ass at the edge of one of the small desks and tried his best not to explode as this mystery hunk sucked him into pure ecstasy. Marcus felt himself enveloped by a soft, yet firm tongue that swept up and down the length of his shaft, his lips creating the perfect seal. Jason kept the pace, going faster and faster as Marcus groaned aloud his excitement and gripped the edges of the wooden surface, squeezing tighter the closer he got to eruption. "Ohhhh! I - I'm gonna..!" Jason didn't miss a beat; instead sucking harder until Marcus burst like a geyser shooting hot streams of hot sticky cream right down Jason's throat. The suave muscular man accepted it greedily and let the orgasm continue until finally slowing down until the ejaculating dick was fully spent and milked of every drop of precious semen. When Marcus began to slow, panting hard and clutching the sides of the desk to remain upright, Jason looked up at him and the sexiest smile Marcus had ever seen grew on the perfect features. The Adonis seemed pleased at what he had caused as he straightened up and seized Marcus's face with his huge hands and pulled their lips together. Jason's tongue dove into the stunned man's mouth, swirling around and giving him his own flavor. When their mouths finally parted Marcus was flushed, dazed, and entirely at a loss. Jason stepped back. "I hope I didn't come on too strong." He smiled, seemingly totally at ease after just fellating Marcus' dick and sharing a full tongued kiss. Marcus struggled for words. "Dude you're something else." was all he could manage to say in the stunned fog his mind was in, not complaining though. His gaze wandering back towards the larger man’s pants and the treasure hidden below, seeing the outline of something enormous just underneath. Jason's muscled and vascular arms came up and swiftly and skillfully began unbuttoning the top 2 buttons of his own tight shirt exposing his powerful and muscular pecs and the beginnings of his hard abdomen. The slim fitting shirt, and especially the now with the partially open collar, perfectly delineated every curve and ridge of his thick, powerful pectoral muscles. Each mound of smooth flesh tapered down perfectly into a trim, 8 pack of rock hard, clearly defined abdominal muscles. "See something you like, don't you?" Jason teased as he chuckled and flexed his biceps slowly to show off his sculpted cut muscle structure, his forearms practically rippling underneath the sleeves of his dress shirt. "It's alright; I tend to have that effect on guys." The masculine beast added. Marcus nodded dumbly, unconsciously beginning to fumble to slip his pants completely off as he tried to kick away his shoes and socks and remove everything while never taking his eyes off Jason's pecs and the glorious cleft the man's big hard chest formed as they flexed under the form fitting material of his shirt and tie. Jason watched his partner shuck his clothes with a playful expression on his face and responded by very slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt the rest of the way until finally undoing the last button and letting the white shirt part open to reveal a stunning masculine landscape of sheer power. His torso was incredible, sculpted like marble. He puffed out his huge chest and tightened his stomach. Instantly his pec swells looked bigger and fuller, his pert nipples pointing downward towards the floor. His hard stomach rippled and swayed with each breath, each hard brick dusted with smooth brown hair that thickened as it lead down to his waist. Jason sensually ran a huge hand down his own torso and underneath his pants, gripping something thick and round just beneath the hem. "What do you think?" the hung, masculine stud asked, his smile broadening. The now naked Marcus replied by scrambling backward onto one of the desks, laying on his back and exposing his tight hole, preparing himself for what kind of monster cock the man possessed. With tantalizing slowness, Jason unbuttoned his fly and his gargantuan rod sprang forth, standing rock hard at close to 12 inches. The rod was covered in pencil tick veins that pulsed with each beat of the huge man’s heart, the tip already beginning to leak precum like a faucet. "I've been hard all morning," Jason remarked casually, unwrapping his man-bun and letting his thick brown locks drape over his wide shoulders. "And now I find a beautiful man ready and willing to be bred? Must be my lucky day." Just the sight of this gargantuan testosterone fueled stud, with his long dark brown hair, model looks, and bulging, statuesque physique that rivaled a Greek god, made Marcus' hole twitch with anticipation. He glanced downward to see the man's tree trunk legs were firmly planted on either side of him and he stood in a wide stance that looked more like someone flexing for the judges rather than preparing to fuck him senseless. Jason finally closed the distance between them and loomed over the smaller man, his monster manhood throbbing with anticipation. Slowly the virile stud leaned over and positioned his already thick pulsating monster over the petite man's awaiting hole, then looked Marcus directly in the eye. "Ready or not.." he teased, pushing the tip of his member into the tight ass. Marcus could feel the head slip easily past the of his anus and he hissed with pain. This bastard was huge! Jason wasted no time in distracting his smaller lover by enveloping his face with a passionate kiss while pressing their chests together, sliding the massive fuck spear into the man below him with agonizing slowness. A surge of unbelievable pressure filled Marcus's senses; he could scarcely think straight. "Oh Fuck. You're so big," he whined softly, trying his best to hide it but unable to keep the lust in his tone at bay. The smaller man shuddered again as more dick slipped past his resistance and probed his prostate, teasing the exposed nerve endings within him, while filling him completely. Marcus could barley contain his joy, his body twitching with pleasure and need. "No need to be shy with my cock is already halfway in you. Listen to your body. Your instincts are far wiser than your brain," the alpha smirked before capturing his lover's mouth with another kiss. As their tongues mingled once again, Marcus felt his hesitancy finally abate and the smaller man unleashed his hands across his fuck stud's ripped body, feeling up every ridge of every cut. His hands clumsily and uncertainly wandered over his partner's swollen biceps and rippling forearms, digging his fingers into the hewn mounds of his flexed shoulders and finally running his fingers down the male's hugely sculpted pectorals. As his eager touch played across the muscular landscapes, Jason pulled his tongue out from between Marcus's teeth, and asked "See, now, isn't this better? Giving into your desires instead of holding them back?" Jason casually flexed his huge muscles everywhere Marcus' was groping as he slowly sank his cock deeper inside him, sending spasms of ecstasy through the young jock's frame. "Fuckin huge..." was about all Marcus could reply in that moment. "Damn right I am." With a touch of dramatic flare and flexibility that belied his size, Jason suddenly pulled his thick arms out of his expensive dress shirt and threw it to the desk behind him, fully exposing his body for Marcus' wide eyes and wandering hands. He began moving, slowly pumping his thick dick into Marcus’ tight hole, giving his partner a view of all the muscle he had on his huge frame. The perfectly layered, gorgeously contoured and totally herculean and musclebound Adonis showed off his body with pride. Each new flex rippled down the beast's chest and torso and finally to his meaty ass and thighs which flexed and pushed out Jason's member deeper into Marcus' spasming hole. Each muscle was clearly defined and rippled with thick hard muscle and beautiful vascular striation. Marcus gasped as each new flex moved Jason's meat deeper inside him, the beautiful stretching sensation was about to make him go insane. The smaller man reached out and grabbed his ass and gaped it wider, begging Jason to speed up his thrusts. Jason obliged, plunging deeper and deeper, until his enormous 12 inches finally hilted inside the younger man. With a wicked smile, Jason began to really fuck. The seductive stud was like an inexhaustible machine; his sculpted pectorals and washboard abdominals rippling and rolling, sweaty, hard and shining as the stud hammered his prostate like no one had before. Marcus dug his fingertips into the mounds of muscle, squeezing and palpating and gripping, feeling the iron-hard sinews beneath, and watching as the incredible Adonis's eyes glittered with passion. Jason then began to purposely flex his upper body muscles to display his strength for his smaller but appreciative partner. Jason unleashed pose after pose, timing each purposeful flex with a particularly powerful thrust. He paraded his body in front of Marcus as he drilled his hole mercilessly. After one particularly hot bicep pose Marcus saw something dark on the stud’s inner bicep close to his pits. Three small letters tattooed with dark ink in fine penmanship spelled out the letters: AAA. "Oh fuck, are you one of them?" The muscular brunette flashed Marcus a wolfish grin. "Did you seriously think I was anything else? How do you think I got this big?" With that the burly alpha slammed home his entire 12-inch meat log once more, splitting Marcus's hole even further and pushing him dangerously close to the edge. Jason's thrusts began gaining speed and ferocity. "I know that look when I see it. You want to be like me, dont you? Big and burly, a walking wet dream, dropping with testosterone?" Jason spoke, and even when in the throes of animalistic mating he never lost his sexy cool demeanor or air of confident machismo, making him seem even sexier in Marcus's mind. "All that is just the start. What really gets you hooked is feeling your dick hardening as it grows extra inches inside some tight piece of ass. Your balls bouncing and flexing as your testosterone roils inside you and creates a huge load of cum just waiting to fill up some young buck. That feeling of pure domination as you unleash your load deep into a guy and know that soon, he’ll be just like you. Each sentence ended in a ferocious thrust, and a wet slap as their balls impacted against Marcus' round perky ass cheeks. Marcus groaned in agreement and screamed in ecstasy. "Yes!! Yes!!! That's exactly what I want." At that response the larger Adonis shifted angles and focused his thrusts directly against Marcus's prostate. Marcus squirmed in his seat with overwhelming pleasure. Jason paused only to grip both the smaller man's knees to position him in the mating press and return his hammer blows to that bundle of nerves, keeping up the relentless assault. Marcus, on his back on a desk, his legs were splayed widely to each side in a complete spread-eagle and completely exposed, could barely breathe as Jason relentlessly fucked him. He began stroking his dick furiously and in seconds went shooting rockets of semen all over himself, which only made Jason harder, slamming even more forcefully into his tight hole. He grunted wildly with effort as he exploded a tremendous ejaculation of pent up sperm. The monstrous masculine hunk's shaft jerked and flexed inside Marcus's hole, firing ropes of white, hot cum into the bottom. Over and over again, Jason unleashed his lust and dominance deep into Marcus's willing and thoroughly bred body, slowly filling Marcus' insides with his potent seed until a small round belly bump protruded from where his abdomen once was. The last of Marcus’ inhibitions left him as he felt the Alpha’s seed permeate throughout him, filling him to the brim. He moamed and wailed as his own cock continued to fire and coat his own protruding stomach. Jason slowed his thrusts and gleefully remarked, "You look so good with my cum stuffed inside you." The Alpha rubbed his large hand over the lump of seed protruding from Marcus's stomach, his husky voice moaning slightly with each caress. The enormous muscular stud then raised both arms above his head with a husky growl, his form slowly swelling with power, his muscles slowly filling with power with each deliberate flex. Each time his muscles pulsed, Marcus felt the huge cock buried inside him pulse with another jet of cum. Even through his sex drunk haze, Marcus knew he was getting larger. His godly body stretched outward as his flexing continued, the cock inside him continuing to unleash the man’s seed deep within him. His pecs ballooned, jutting outward from his hard abs and casting a shadow over Marcus. His hips and thighs got tighter and stronger, causing the big man to readjust his cock inside him as his stance grew wider. Jason held his right arm out and slowly let the power fill his bicep with each flex, reveling in how tight and big the bulging ball of muscle became with each bend of his elbow. Marcus watched, amazed at the unnatural sight of the huge man getting even stronger, and came again hands free as the cock inside his hole stretched him even wider and buried itself deeper even though Jason wasn’t moving. The stud suddenly fixed his eyes on Marcus. "So, how was it?" he whispered, his eyes never leaving his lover. Marcus could only moan loudly in response. Jason smiled wryly, letting his arms relax back down to his sides, ending his growth session, leaving Marcus feeling more filled than ever before. "I have to say, it's been some time since I've fucked a virgin." Jason mused as he withdrew his now ungodly huge now 13 inch cock from Marcus' used hole. "I-Im not a virgin." Marcus croaked, his voice sore after all his wanton lustful moaning and screaming. Jason raised a fuzzy eyebrow and manhandled his own dick in response. "If you've never been fucked by an Alpha Alpha Alpha brother, you've never had real sex. That is your first real fuck." he purred, running a hand up and down his immense beefy pecs. The fucker was enjoying his own body as much as Marcus had been just seconds earlier, flexing his abs and admiring the cut muscles of his arms, shoulders and torso. As Marcus reeled from the pleasure of having this stud's cum held inside him, Jason turned back to where he'd thrown his clothing, his round firm ass flexing along with his quads. The now even sexier alpha pulled his clothes on very slowly, almost intentionally stretching every fiber of cloth and flexing all of his glorious muscle as the material squeezed snugly over each rounded and heavy piece of musculature, bulging with power and presence. The huge guy glanced toward Marcus and smiled slightly, flashing a set of perfect white teeth, as the he strode closer and ran his massive hands down the younger man's slim body before resting on his new cum bulge. "I know you've got questions. Head over to the house later tonight, I'll make sure someone there sets you up. I'm glad you swiped right. Trust me, you won't regret this." *** Part 3. Sorry for the wait, I'm such a procrastinator sometimes it's actually terrible. Please let me know what you think! I've generated some images of the studs depicted in the story so far and might share them here in the future once I get the details the way I want them.

My plan all along was to go back in time from the first installment to show how Alex went from submissive, scared, and skinny into the dominant, huge, ravenous muscle beast he is going to become. I hope you all enjoy. He's gonna start growing soon. [Part II: Move-in day, 9 Months Earlier] Alex looked up at the dormitory in front of him. It was a big ugly concrete structure and looked more like a prison than a college dorm. It was nearly 6pm and the sun was setting fast. He’d hoped to arrive much earlier in the day but his parents had been difficult as usual. They didn't want him going to college. He struggled up the three flights of stairs with his duffle bag and backpack. He was winded by the time he made it to the top. Before opening the door from the stairwell, Alex heard raucous male voices. Lots of “Bro what the fucks” and “Damn, did you hit that?” Generally, things that made him really uncomfortable. This was why he wanted to arrive much earlier in the day. Get in, get settled in, get comfortable and hide. Since he’d been homeschooled from an early age, he’d spent very little time around his peers. He took a deep breath and opened the door onto the third floor. Immediately, the smell of pizza and beer, and something else he wasn’t quite familiar with hit Alex hard in the face. Alex made himself look as small as possible, quite a difficult task as he stood 6’3”. He was however skinny as a rail and always had a way of appearing smaller than he was. Alex turned left, away from the voices, hoping against hope that his dorm room was this way. “God was this a mistake” he thought. Room 312, Room 311, Room 310…he followed the hall looking for 301. The dorm was a big rectangle with one large bathroom in the center. He rounded a corner, the voices started getting louder and louder. “Dammit” he thought. Of course his room would be right where the guys all were. 303… 302… “Hey hey! New Guy! What’s up?” said one of the boys. Alex looked at the group of guys gathered in the common space. They were in various levels of undress. Some just in boxers, others fully clothed, all of them were attractive and clearly having a great time. And right behind them, was Room 301. He gulped. “Hi, um, my room is right behind you…could I just” Alex mumbled. “My name’s Chris, you in 301? We met your roomie earlier. Cool guy. That fucker is ripped!” exclaimed an extremely handsome black man. HIs arms entirely filled the sleeves of his shirt and his legs were stretching his short shorts to their breaking point. Chris extended a beefy hand for Alex to shake. Alex reached out his arm as best he could seeing as he was weighed down by his backpack and duffle bag. “I’m Alex” he said, cringing as his dainty fingers were engulfed by Chris’s. “Could I just get by you?” “Yah sure man, get settled in. We’re just shooting the shit. Join us when you’ve put your stuff down” invited one of the other boys. Alex fumbled his way through the boys and got to his door. Shaking, he managed to get the key into the lock and literally fell inside. The moment he closed the door behind him he let go of the huge breath he was holding inside, his heart pounding from the interaction he just had. Those guys were so different from anything he had experienced. Confident, carefree and uninhibited. Alex laid his duffle down on the empty bed near the door and stared around. Half the room was already fully-decorated. There were giant tubs of protein powder on the dresser. Posters of ripped bodybuilders and superheroes on the walls and a neatly folded pile of clothes lay on the other bed. Alex set himself to unpacking his few cheap possessions. It took an absurdly short amount of time for him to put his side of the room “together”. After he was done, it barely looked like anyone was there at all. There was no personality at all. Once again feeling entirely inadequate for this new college life, he pulled from his backpack his measly “dinner”. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a Coke. In addition to being narrow-minded and controlling, his parents were dirt poor. Alex was so used to barely eating that it didn’t bother him anymore, hunger was his standard. As Alex tucked into his PB&J he started to absent-mindedly look at the stuff on the desk next to his. There was a spiral bound notebook whose cover read “Pete’s Get Huge Plan”. He flipped through the notebook and saw lots of dates, names of exercises and numbers he didn’t quite understand. As he began reading the latest entry, “Chest and Tricep Day”, Alex opened his soda, and a sudden HISSSSSSSS shocked him out of his stupor. The Coke which had been tossed up and down coming up the stairs sprayed everywhere, covering Alex completely head to toe and soaking the notebook. “Oh my God” he exclaimed. He was drenched. He grabbed one of his old gray towels and wiped the notebook off as best he could, then the desk and chair and finally his own face. There was no point even trying to clean off his clothes, they would need to be washed. Alex stripped off and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. You could see his ribs under his baby smooth skin. He saw there was soda in his hair and all over his arms and legs too. He’d have to take a shower, and that meant walking through the gang of guys still goofing off right outside his door. “Ok Alex, you got this! You wanted to grow up and get out. Here you go!” Alex steeled himself. He wrapped the towel around his waist, grabbed his Ziploc bag with Dollar store body wash, opened the door and walked as quickly as he could through the guys towards the showers. Eyes glued to the floor the whole time. “That wasn’t so bad he thought” as he dashed into the shower and began to soap himself up. After he rinsed himself clean, Alex took a deep breath before leaving the shower. He wrapped his towel tightly around his skinny waist. He scooted past various guys lounging on the common area couches and just started to fit his key in the lock when he heard a booming deep voice. “Hey Alex! Can you help us with something?” Alex turned slowly on the spot. “Come here, we need your help.” it was Chris, the buff guy from earlier, only now he was shirtless. His dark chocolate skin made his muscles pop. His pecs sat fat and proud under a wide set of shoulders. Cum gutters framed his beautiful taut waist. “Can I just …” whimpered Alex, gesturing to his room. “No no, this will be quick” Chris beckoned Alex over with a hand. Chris was accompanied by another shirtless man. Chris put his muscly arm around Alex and whispered in his ear. “So the boys and I just had a little wager going. I bet them that you'd help me measure my cock.” Alex froze like a deer in headlights. He could smell the alcohol emanating from Chris's mouth. Alex could feel his bicep flexing against the back of his neck. “So can you help a guy out? You don't mind right? I’ve got a handle of vodka riding on this. I’ll share with you…” Alex just stared straight ahead not saying anything. “Good man!” Chris said, slapping him on the back. Alex buckled under the force and ended up sitting on one of the benches in the common area. His towel nearly fell off. Alex clutched at it, going completely red in the face. Chris straightened up and pulled down his shorts. Alex glanced at his heavy pouch. “Alright boys!” said Chris, “The bet on the table is that my cock is thicker than Alex’s flexed arm” Alex’s eyes snapped up in horror. The guys in the room started laughing and jeering. “If it is, y’all owe me a handle of vodka” “Alright let’s see it then!” “Back up boys! Don’t want to put anyone’s eyes out with this monster” Chris joked while palming his dick. Alex watched as it plumped and grew. Chris then stripped off his underwear fully whipping out his engorged cock and heavy ballsack. His massively thick cock continued to lengthen. He then started walking around the circle of guys, Alex saw the way his juicy muscle ass bounced as he walked. “Give it a kiss” Chris said to a handsome guy directly across from Alex. “You too,” he said to another guy. Chris continued walking around the circle. Each guy in turn kissed his still thickening cock. Finally coming back around to Alex himself. Alex looked up at the ripped torso and handsome face in front of him. “Now it's your turn Alex” Chris smiled. “Kiss it for goodluck” Chris then moved his enormously thick cock right up to Alex’s face. Alex hesitated momentarily, it was so big, then Chris gently slapped his dick right into Alex's lips. “Good boy,” Chris murmured. “Alright Alex, let’s see you flex” To emphasize this, Chris brought his arm up by his head and Alex watched as the softball sized muscle jumped to life, veins etched on its thick juicy surface. Alex, going even redder still, raised his stick thin arm up towards his ear and squeezed as hard as he could. Chris walked around him and standing behind Alex’s right shoulder, lined his dick up side by side with Alex’s trembling arm. Alex felt the hot thick rod pressing insistently against his upper arm. The heat emanating off Chris felt so intense that Alex started to vibrate with. “Not even a fuckin contest!!!!” yelled Chris. His hard, veiny cock was clearly thicker Alex’s arm. “Come on dude, you can flex harder than that!” Alex squeezed his tiny arms as hard as he could but he was no match. His stick thin arms were pathetic. Chris then grabbed Alex’s upper arm with his left hand and his own cock with his right and started jerking them off simultaneously. Horrified and embarrassed, Alex wrenched himself free, grabbed his stuff from the bench and high-tailed it to his door. As he was fitting the key in the lock his towel fell. The boy's laughs still ringing in his ears, Alex threw himself on his bed. “Hi there.” said a voice. Alex snapped up. He wasn’t alone in the room.

"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.

Trying something a little different here. Basic synopsis: A powerful, dominant serial killer is murdering massive bodybuilders with his bare hands, and a police detective (himself a massive bodybuilder) must track him down while fighting his own lustful attraction to the uber-masculine perpetrator.] Warnings: Snuff, Gore, Horror POP “You’re supposed to wear a coverall, like me,” said Dr Stain, the medical examiner, who in his white head-to-toe gear, contrasted sharply with the slimy red gore that covered the entire apartment. “And look like a cumshot in a uterus, like you?” said Detective Carnitas. “Not likely, chum. ‘Sides, they didn’t have one in my size.” “They don’t have doors in your size, Detective.” “True. Guess I’m just too much man for this world.” Carnitas did have to turn sideways to fit his 6’6” 450 lbs of swollen muscles through the door of this crime-scene-cum-abattoir. “This guy was too. Now literally, I guess. So be careful what you wish for.” The giant detective looked at the body. It looked like a skeleton wrapped in a bag of oversized skin. “What the fuck are you on about? This was a fat dude that had some kind of weight-loss surgery.” “Very sudden weight-loss surgery.” The doctor extended a pair of stainless steel forceps and pulled up the skin of the ragged corpse’s chest. “Weird.” Carnitas grabbed the second tool offered by the pathologist and together they raised the pec skin, which had enough area to cover a 60 inch chest. “And this surgeon needs to sharpen his scalpel, look here.” Jagged rends broke the skin at the top and sides of the chest. “It’s like the fat just burst outta him,” said the dumbfounded cop. “Not fat.” The doc pointed at the ceiling, walls and windows. “Look around at all this tissue, it’s pure red meat, no adipose.” “Are you telling me some perp exploded an Olympia-sized, fully-conditioned bodybuilder in his own apartment? What kind of weapon could do that? There’s no grenade shrapnel or burns.” Det. Carnitas felt his heart racing. “No weapon.” “So he took it with him.” “Nope.” Carnitas looked askance at the doctor. “No need to tax your brain overmuch, Detective. There’s video.” The doctor stood and crossed to a desktop computer with a webcam and used his gloved hand to wipe gore off the screen. Carnitas took a sharp breath. It was a freeze-frame shot of a red explosion that was surely the moment of death. But the red burst had a milky-white center. He found himself holding his breath, his heart fluttering as he looked closer. It was a man’s back. Though the man was half the size of the victim, he had the most densely muscled back Carnitas had ever seen. The groove of the spinal erectors in his Christmas tree was deep enough to trap a man’s fingers up to the third knuckle. His lats looked like twin wine barrels tucked under his brawny arms. His massive, tenticular traps formed a monstrous Kraken that seemed to pin Carnitas’ brown eyes with a burning glare. “What the fuck?” The doctor grabbed the mouse to click the symbol to back the vid up ten seconds. Carnitas gasped when primal sounds erupted from a fully equipped stereo system. The video showed a bloated mega-heavyweight bodybuilder who could have been Carnitas’ twin, held aloft and practically vibrating with lust in the concrete arms of the muscular perp. A high-pitched sexual whine ululated out of the bodybuilder’s cum-covered lips as the perps lats spread to eclipse their view of the vic’s mid-torso. The dominating bear-hug compressed the middle of the massive victim’s physique, swelling the top half of his pecs so much they pushed up into his chin, forcing his neck back til his whole head was obscured by deformed pec-meat blistered with stretch marks. Beastly basso-profundo grunts shot out of the subwoofer as that inhuman back rippled and flexed with incalculable strength. “Fucking hell.” Carnitas was finding it hard to breathe. The grunts got longer, louder and deeper, a counterpoint to the rising tone of the vic’s squeal, which sounded like air leaking out of a balloon. “No…” burbled the helpless vic, just as his body became a crimson supernova. Red flesh burst in all directions out of distressed skin as muscles built over years of obsessive workouts splattered like bugs on a windshield against vastly superior brawn. Carnitas was shocked and bewildered, but what happened next truly turned his world upside down. The perps wordless grunts slid into consonants and vowels as a long lingering… “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!!!” … vibrated the floorboards. The sheer manly amplitude of the perp’s ultra-deep voice traveled the distance to where Carnitas stood, thundered up his shins, crossed in an X across his 38” quads and locked his groin in a vice. He couldn’t have taken his eyes off of the screen if he wanted to, as the perp turned to the side. The massive arms dropped casually to his sides, and the crushed torso slumped, but still clung goo-like to granite pecs shaped like Atlas stones that now filled the vic’s ribcage where vital organs once pulsed. A pec bounce jiggled the deformed corpse like a macabre marionette, which the perp found amusing. “HUH-HUH-HUH.” His lewd, rumbly chuckle reached out to Carnitas’ bloated prick and blasted the cum out of it like toothpaste from a tube crushed by a fist. Another pec bounce loosened the vacuum of the vic’s collapsed lungs and the sodden necrotic mess slid to the floor. As those insanely pumped, veiny boulder pecs approached the camera, the perp wiped the victim’s blood from their curvature, revealing a massive chest-and-abs tatt that penetrated the bodybuilder cop’s brain like an ice pick: GONNA POP U BITCH Carnitas blacked out as he heard the perp’s final words: “WHO’S NEXT?”

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.

@ABSQRST I know you might be busy with other things that are more important. But when are you going to Update Liquid Manhood?. Cos your Fans have been asking this since March 11th 2018?. But my big guess prediction is that you might be put your writing on hold for a while due to Writers Block or your just done with the Story all together since it's been 5 years 2 months and 14 days (And more by the time you read this) since the Last Chapter. Or you might have continued your work elsewhere or made it Private?. Please let your fans know since the last comment before me was November 12 2023. And several more before that. Thank you :-).

This story has been a scene I've had in my head for a long time. My plan is to make this a series. I hope you all like it. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Dorm Alpha: Part 1 Alex’s eyes snapped open, it was dark in the dorm room except for the light from his digital clock on the bedside table showing 3am. Something was tickling his chest. He looked down but his view was obscured by two giant rock-solid mounds of hair and muscle. The sensation continued, tingles shot from his nipple down his torso. Alex sat upward, the two side-by-side twin mattresses he slept on creaked as he adjusted his bulk. As he sat up, he found the “something” tickling his nipple was his puny roommate Peter, suckling desperately on his muscle tit. Alex pushed him off roughly and he fell to the floor. “Fuck off Pete!” Alex hissed. Peter sat on the floor jerking his cock, staring up at his gargantuan roommate. Eyes wild with lust. Alex looked to the other side of the dorm where a pile of several other college boys slept soundly on the floor. He’d long ago claimed the second bed for himself. He smiled as flashes of the previous evening’s fuckfest and worship session replayed through his mind. Suddenly, Alex realized he needed to take a piss. He got up, as he did so he roughly pushed past Pete still jerking his dick. Then he ducked to exit the dorm room and went down the hall and into the bathroom butt-naked. Alex sidled up next to a urinal, lifted his python and let loose a torrent of hot piss. Relieved, Alex walked to the sink and took a look at himself in the mirror. “Fuck” he blurted out. Then a shit-eating grin spread across his face. Even he was still blown away by the body before him. Nearly 7 feet tall, 350 lbs, ripped to shreds and covered from the chest down in thick, dark hair. Alex was a sight to behold. He lifted his arms above his head, smashing his biceps into his ears as he did so, relishing in his obscene size and muscularity. Alex sucked in his stomach and crunched down his abs. Eight enormous, deeply etched bricks framed with sharp obliques like fingers accentuated an almost comically tight waist. He held this position, flexing hard and watching thick gnarled veins surface across his torso, clearly visible even through the thick layer of body hair. Alex then slowly and gracefully lowered his arms into a double biceps pose, flaring his lats out wider and wider, making him look like a fuckin Dorito. Shoulders the size of watermelons literally burst from his body. Each head of muscle, etched deep and thick, even without a pump. As Alex’s eyes swept across the mirror, drinking in his gargantuan frame, his cock, which had been resting heavily on the bathroom counter began to fill with blood. Alex’s eyes, which had been focused on his meaty-as-all-fuck traps looked down at his cock as it lengthened along the bathroom counter approaching the sink faucet. Seventeen, eighteen inches perhaps? At some point he had just stopped measuring. It’s grown every day since he started college. Since he started eating and lifting like a beast. Alex smirked as his cock finally reached its final length, four inches from the backsplash. “Guess I have a new goal” he thought to himself. Just then, he heard the sound of a toilet flushing and the door to the stall behind him opened up. Without ever turning around, or indeed, dropping his double bicep pose, Alex called to the little runt exiting the stall. “Hey Brett-y. Wanna feel some muscle?” The kid froze like a deer in headlights. Brett lived at the other end of the hall. Quiet guy, kept to himself. Probably didn't weigh more than 150 lbs wet. Alex dropped his arms. Letting them relax against his sides. His lats pushed his arms out to 45 degrees. “Come here Brett-y, don’t be shy. I want you to feel my glutes. I’ve really been focusing on them lately.” Alex flexed his glute muscles with perfect control making the feathered muscles twitch up and down. Brett inched up to Alex, trembling head to foot. His head only reaching the small of Alex’s back. All the while Alex had remained facing the mirror, staring at himself. His body was so large that as Brett stepped closer he was entirely obscured by muscle. Because of Alex's height, Brett had to put his hands out at eye level to touch his ass. He squeaked when his hands felt the hot, hard as iron muscle in front of him. The smell was overwhelming, intoxicating. It made Brett's head spin and very quickly he began cleaning Alex's ass with his tongue. Drinking it in. The feeling of Brett’s tongue probing his ass cheeks caused Alex's giant member to stiffen even more if possible. He brought his left arm back up high and began to worship his own bicep. Alex flexed hard, the bulging ball of muscle pumped bigger and bigger. Alex watched himself in the mirror as his thick powerful tongue licked the titanic bicep tracing the powerful veins on his left arm. Alex grabbed hold of his monstrous cock with the other arm, all the while Brett's tongue probed deeper and deeper. Alex pressed his huge, beefy, calloused hand on top of his dick, pinning it down to the sink counter. He then began grinding his monstrous cock back and forth, relishing in how his hands, huge as they were, looked tiny in comparison to his giant dick. “Deeper Brett. Really get in there” Alex growled. Brett could only moan with pleasure at being surrounded by so much hot muscle. He pushed his head in deeper and Alex relaxed his glutes allowing Brett access to his hole. Alex could have crushed Brett’s skull with a single flex and he knew it. It would be all too easy to snuff out his life. Alex puffed out his chest. The slabs of meat pushed outward, the thick hair on his pecs tickled Alex’s chin. He was a fuckin stud, the ultimate alpha. No one past, present or future who ever lived in this dorm would ever approach his level of superiority and he was only 19. Had only started growing a year ago. He never stopped thinking about growth. Food, Muscle, and Sex was all he ever thought about. With that he let go of his monstrous dick. His cock swung upwards like a baseball bat smashing into his enormous pec cleavage. Alex flexed his pecs along his dick, the hair and muscle stimulating the red-hot iron rod. With Brett’s tongue still stimulating his hole, Alex raised his arms up one last time, flexing every part of his body, expanding in every direction. It was too much. The muscle drove him mad and cock convulsed firing thick college boy spunk onto the ceiling. Alex grabbed his cock, still spewing jizz and aimed it at the bathroom sink. He watched enthralled as his mammoth alpha cock filled the sink nearly halfway up with cum. So thick it didn't drain down. “Fuck Brett, look at that” Alex said. “I'm such a fucking stud! That's more cum than the whole football team jizzes in a month I bet!.... Brett?” Brett was on the floor, dazed from his own epic orgasm being surrounded by Alex's beefy hairy glutes. Alex scooped up Brett like a ragdoll and carried him out to the common area where he deposited him on the couch. Alex went back to his room, opened the door, ducked and went inside. Puney Pete was still sitting on the floor leaning against Alex's bed snoring loudly, hand still on his dick. As Alex got into bed he purposely slapped Pete's face with his weighty flaccid dick. Alex chuckled to himself. Just a few hours till breakfast he thought. With that, the Alex drifted off to sleep. He had a big day tomorrow. In fact, everyday was big and getting bigger.

So looking forward to your next chapter. This is a very hot story!

Every chapter of this has been incredible so far.

Thanks

Amazing new chapter

I posted in the Artwork section, but because it doesn't always get seen - and it is a story, I wanted to post here too! Hope you enjoy! Pete "Gymjunkie"

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?

Carnitas got broken and wants in. Something tells me they'll let him in, but only as a punching bag and fuck toy cop trophy. Clearly displayed to all the other cops who dare defy them.

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 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!”

Titanium will always outperform steel, and Lex will prove it every time he can.

Raphael felt his cock twitch as he watched a few of his classmates climb the steps of the lecture hall. After only being on campus for a few weeks he could easily spot a member of Alpha Alpha Alpha from a mile away. Their physiques were like something from a comic book, stretching their clothes tight with bulging muscle. Every inch was rippling hard, with perfectly defined musculature and not a trace of fat. They were always dressed simply, either jeans and a t-shirt or tank top and gym shorts, something anyone on campus could be wearing but these guys attracted attention no matter what they wore. They were sex on legs, the embodiment of male sexual fantasy, and Raphael knew that each of those studly alpha males were packing obscenely large dicks. Not only had he caught glimpses of these guys around campus and the surrounding town, but he also thought he found some of their OnlyFans profiles as well. Just thinking of their impossibly hung members was causing him to chub up, especially as it coincided with his imagination running wild on how they would be like in the sack. Not that he would ever be so lucky. Those dudes were way out of his league anyway. He'd just be relegated to a secret stalker, lusting from a distance at these gorgeous gods. As soon as those self-deprecating thoughts had entered his mind they were brushed aside as Raphael's favorite frat bro entered his vision. Dante was the perfect embodiment of a himbo. Perfect face, gorgeous thick arms, big bulky chest, defined stomach, powerful legs that looked like they could lift a car, an absolutely ripped ass that could no doubt fuck for hours. And to top it all off, he was a good person too. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, sure, but with a heart in the right place and a body to back it up. "Yo, Raphi!" Dante waved one huge gorilla sized arm as he bounded up the steps. The olive skinned hunk stood out against the background, not just because of his size, but of his dashing good looks. Today he was wearing a red cotton tee that stretched tightly across his broad chest and some surprisingly sturdy khaki pants that did nothing to hide his huge round ass as he walked up the stairs. His short brown hair was just a shade lighter than his piercing brown eyes which were currently focused on Raphael. The smaller man gulped as his crush approached and sat down next to him, just barely fitting in the small auditorium seat, and threw a sinuous arm around Raphael’s shoulders. "Soo...did you finish it? It's due, like, tomorrow. I tried but...you're better with this science shit, yeah?" Dante grinned broadly, flashing an array of straight white teeth. "Almost. Should be done after class." Raphael replied, savoring the sensation of being trapped beneath Dante's burly bicep. "Awesome! You're a life saver bro." The big guy beamed, using the arm draped around Raphael's thin shoulders to tug the small boy to his side to give him a gentle squeeze, an action the much smaller guy relished. "How bout you bring it by the house tonight when you're done? I told the bros you were helping me out so I'm sure they'll want to thank you too! There's always a spot at the table for my favorite dorky bro!!" Dante flashed him his dazzling smile again, complete with his trademark goofy wink and chaotic good energy that Raphael found almost impossible to deny. And how could he? Being invited to a house filled to the brim with handsome brawny men, and by a dude who's looks and body alone should be classified as a walking sexual obscenity. And to make matters more absurd he seemed like he really meant it. So that's how the five foot nothing dorky little nerd found himself outside the Alpha Alpha Alpha house late in the evening, carrying his computer bag to deliver an overdue assignment to a hunky guy he was crushing hard on. The house itself was surprisingly neat and tidy, albeit a little old. Pristine really. Not the filthy hovel he'd been imagining for whatever reason, something you'd expect from a group of some of the most jacked up muscular men around. For some reason, Raphael pictured a sea of beer bottles, solo cups and empty kegs lining the outside of the house. So to see a tidy and well maintained home was quite the surprise. With all his courage Raphael knocked softly at the door. After a few seconds he heard a low thumping in the distance, but nothing else. He knocked again and this time the thumping seemed to get louder and closer, but no voices were heard. A small part of his brain suggested coming back another day but his curiosity was too great. He had to know what sexy mysteries resided in the Alpha Alpha Alpha house. As soon as he opened the door, an aroma enveloped him, an earthy but pleasant scent. At this late hour the house seemed surprisingly deserted, no one was visible from the doorway and for a moment he wondered if he had the right place. Then the rhythmically thumping beat met his ears again and grew louder and louder as one of the frat bros lumbered down the stairs. Raphael gulped as another huge man came into view clad in nothing but his boxer shorts. The huge dark skinned bro was as ripped as they get and did nothing to hide his powerful physique. He was a pure embodiment of masculinity, his body defined and powerful. His long dreadlocks cascaded infront and behind his gorgeous body, hiding some of it from Raphael’s prying eyes. He yawned and scratched his toned stomach before his eyes settled on the smaller man. "Ahhhh! You're Raphi, right?” The man asked, one arm bulging as it raised to point at the smaller man. “Dante told us you were gonna show up tonight." The dark skinned god involuntarily flexed his arm as it was raised which lead Raphael’s wandering eyes to land on a gigantic tattoo that was sprawled across the huge muscular appendage. ALPHA ALPHA ALPHA was written in big bold letters across the outer part of his bicep and tricep, so that the world would know just what kind of man he was. "Yep that's me." he answered sheepishly as he marveled at the sexy display of hard flesh, hoping not to appear overly distracted by the dude's obviously thick cock and bouncing nuts trying to hide in his boxers. The hunk was continued his inadvertent muscle show by flexing his large pecs as he used his huge arms to gestured behind him, vaguely pointing upstairs as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Dante's room is on the third floor. Last door on the left. He's been waiting for ya." Raphael whipped passed the huge man and hurried towards his destination, eager to get out of the building before he was spotted with a stiffy. He bounced the steps two at a time and practically ran down the hall until he reached his destination. He knocked quickly and gave the handle a sharp twist and a push, ready to run in and get back out as quick as possible but he stopped in his tracks as soon as the door was half way open. The aroma was intoxicating. An concoction of potent pheromones, sweat, cum and masculine musk wafted out from the interior and threatened to send the twink’s nose swimming as he choked on a mixture of hormones. That in turn brought an even harder stiffness to his already semi erect penis and he swallowed down a moan, unwilling to risk making a peep as he might be caught in his indecent position. Dante was lounging in a chair with his shirt off wearing his sweatpants, revealing the toned muscles on his upper body and brisling of brow hair that adorned his tanned skin. Even in a relaxed pose like this the giant radiated an intense masculinity that Raphael found thoroughly mesmerizing. He couldn't help but glance down to see his ridiculously big cock outlined clearly in the loose fabric. Raphael's mouth salivated as the muscular Latino seemed to casually flaunt that massive length, more than half a dozen inches that was obviously getting even larger in front of his wide eyes. "Glad you could make it little bro." Dante said, rising off the lounge and approaching him. His chest and abs and arms seemed to ripple with each flex he made as if he were trying to put on a show of how jacked he was. Dante smiled, his dazzling perfect teeth contrasted to the beautiful bronze of his smooth, flawless skin. "Take a seat anywhere you like Raphi and make yourself comfortable." The massive man's words seemed to rumble through Raphael, and he nodded numbly as his feet began walking him through the room as if on auto-pilot, the sultry sent of man permitting his nostril. Dante walked behind Raphael, putting his enormous hands gently on his tiny shoulders. He leaned close and Raphael felt the warmth of the handsome hunk on his ear before hearing the sultry voice speak again. "I really wanted to thank you again for helping a bro out. I'm shit with physics, y'know?" Raphael nodded dumbly and tried to keep it together. In an instant Dante removed the backpack from the smaller man’s shoulders and playfully shoved Raphael onto his mattress. Dante landed with a soft thump on his back, staring in a daze at the ceiling. As he came back to his senses he raised his head up to see Dante standing at the foot of the bed. His handsome face displayed a huge shit-eating grin as the large man loomed over him, his thick muscles gleamed, highlighted in a sheen of sweat from some sort of workout. "How could I EVER repay you, man? I just gotta know." Raphael’s heart practically stopped as he got the best look at Dante's magnificent body he had ever seen. His gargantuan musculature was on full display, a towering figure of living muscle standing 6 foot 6 and looking every inch of it. He sported broad bulky pecs which were each at least twice the size of Raphael's head and tapered smoothly downwards to meet his six-pack abs. Massive traps, biceps the size of melons and a body which would have looked at home in the gladiatorial arenas of ancient Rome. He flexed his beefy biceps and chuckled. "You like, huh?" he purred, moving his arms forwards and then backwards in front of him and admiring his own physique. Each movement showcased his bulky deltoids and huge biceps flexing powerfully. Raphael licked his lips and found himself hypnotized. "You better, cause you're gonna love this next part." Dante promised as Raphael finally heard the rustle of clothing dropping and glancing up to see Dante was slowly, teasingly, pulling his loose fitting sweats over the large bulge of his manhood. As his thighs emerged from the clinging garment Raphael found his heart pounding to a tempo of excitement. A low grunt escaped him as he stepped closer and freed his penis from the confines of his pants and dropped them to the floor. Dante was, quite possibly, the sexiest man he'd ever set his eyes upon. Everything about him screamed alpha stud with his towering height and his enormous build that would put to shame even the most seasoned pro weightlifters. From his thick legs, muscular calves, juicy meaty thighs, enormous testicles and big throbbing shaft to his huge defined torso and a muscular back and shoulders and thick and sexy neck, Raphael couldn't stop staring in awe. Dante stood gloriously naked, unashamedly showing off his killer bod and letting his huge member sway majestically. The absolutely ripped brunette crawled up onto his bed. His enormously pumped and muscular body dwarfing Raphael's much smaller figure and causing an immediate contrast of visual arousal that left his head spinning and a small dollop of precum beginning to ooze from the tip of his uncut member. All he could do was let out a weak gasp as Dante approached with that sexy self-satisfied smirk, the effect magnified by the sculpted musculature of his chest and abdominals. He watched his pecs undulate and bulge and his shoulders and traps appear to be constantly flexing as his arms swayed at his side. Raphael felt his dick jump again just by looking at the glistening mountain of hunkdom that loomed above him and bit his lower lip as his shaft got harder. Dante gave his flaccid cock a few casual tugs before smirking down and whispering in that irresistible baritone. "Do you like?" He purred, as soda can thick uncircumcised meat stood a semi-hard seven inches. As his thumb gently traced over the soft, wet glans he slowly hardened, a strong masculine scent wafted forth that caused Raphael's cock to get incredibly stiff in a matter of seconds, making a small but noticeable tent in his pants. To his surprise, Dante’s smile broadned as he noticed the effect he was having on the smaller man, and his already enormous phallus grew even quicker. "You seem amazed, eh bro? You could bounce a quarter off my ass." the giant brunette said confidently while flexing both of his enormous arms in unison, making his massive biceps and thick lats jut forward and giving the tiny geek a look at their bulging contours. He spread his legs and gestured down his brawny frame, "Well? Aren't you going to touch me bro?" He grinned down, an almost predatory light in his eye. The twink obliged immediately. He shot up from the bed and hungrily ran his hand across the mountain of a stud's huge chest muscles and traced the sparse coving of hair between the cleft of his pecs. Dante slowly bounced his meaty chest and let the smaller man grasp their size with his hands, knowing this man could probably bench press a car if he wanted too. As he continued his ministrations, muscle upon muscle seemed to surge forward as if excited by the prospect of being noticed by Raphael. The tendons and sinews bulged with power and pride as the big man continued his slow flexing for his tiny friend. His abdomen bulged like solid granite, the sharp muscle crevices on the tight flesh visible. His rock-hard pelvis and adonis’ belt was thrust into view, strong and tight. Slowly Raphael let his hands travel southward towards the huge rod poking his stomach. His manhood stood at attention and pulsated, oozing thick white creamy semen. Raphael stared at it. A mammoth cock, an unbelievable ten inches with girth that made it look thick as a beer can. Throbbing, pulsating, burning with hot raw masculine sexuality. "I see the way you look at me man," Dante chuckled, giving his big hard cock a pump and letting it bounce. He squeezed his large and perfectly-formed balls in his hand. "And this right here has been longing to get all up inside you bro. To plow that cute ass of yours and make you moan my name." The monstrous shaft bounced up and smacked him in his thick eight-pack abdomen. It began to throb and pulse with each breath the huge man took. The huge bodybuilder caressed the throbbing giant erection in front of the geeks eyes. "C'mon man. I know you want it too." He guided Raphael’s hand around his back and placed it on his huge perky ass, drawing the smaller man closer to him. Raphael could feel the warmth of his body through his own clothes and felt his trepidations melt away and finally began to relax in Dante’s arms. Dante wasn't having a go at him. Nor was he feeding him some bullshit. This god among men wanted to fuck him. Really fuck him. With his fat, hard cock. Before his nerves could fail him Raphael stole a kiss from the huge adonis and the two started locking lips, pressing their tongues against one another while the Latin giant reached for the hem of his t-shirt, eagerly undressing him and throwing it into the growing pile of clothes. They gazed into each other's eyes. Those were eyes of desire, they were filled with an undisguised lust that the lad was finally recognizing as genuine. Dante once again shoved Raphael backwards into the bed, this time a bit roughly, looming over him as the smaller man frantically removed the rest of his clothing and tossed them off to the side leaving him exposed from the waist down. Without skipping a beat, the Alpha bent his head and sealed his mouth around the smaller man's leaking cock. Raphael moaned with rapture as his cock was swallowed by the enormous sex god. The sight of his wide rippling shoulders above his cock was mesmerizing. The thick cords of his back muscles tensed and his neck flexed as his head bobbed up and down on the geek's cock. His hands slid behind his shoulders and explored the muscles there, caressing and feeling. He used the pad of his thumb to knead the rippling pecs on the football players' chest, admiring his wide muscular upper body and getting even harder with the thought of having it fucking him silly. The tiny dude moaned while Dante sucked him off with expert skill. His petite cock was as hard as it had ever been as the huge muscle god’s warm mouth clamped down on his length, his tongue wrapping around the glans roughly and causing the smaller man’s body to shudder again. After a few minutes Raphael felt the heat rising in his loins and bucked his small hips against his crush’s beautiful face and shot his first load down Dante’s throat. The little nerd shuddered with ecstasy as the euphoric bliss spread from his nuts across his body and his cock pumped out load after load. Dante took it all like a champ and Raphael could swear he looked hungry for more. Dante finally released his nerdy bro's cock, smiling mischievously as he gulped down the last of Raphael’s load, and turned his eyes to the massive tool he now carried between his own legs, a massive ten-inch phallus with an intimidating girth and heavy nuts that sloshed with all the cum that needed to be released. With a single motion of his hand the humungous Latino male grasped the length and stroked, working his mighty package with fervor until it started to leak precum at an alarming rate. The Adonis continued his flexing. It was unreal, like a waking wet dream. Muscles rippled, his body seemed alive and in tune, not unlike a powerful predator, yet it also maintained a gentle beauty that had his face sculpted by the gods. The beautiful man suddenly locked lips again and leaned his big beefy body over, mashing their chests together and sliding his hands across Raphael’s small lithe frame. The little dweeb’s mind swam with euphoria as his hands wandered over his enormous, well-developed back and lats, his hands not able to connect as his arms attempted to encircle his large lover. His mind couldn't get enough of the sexy slab of hard, muscle body that now pressed down atop him, and soon enough, into him. With an air of dominance, Dante shifted forward and let his huge body envelop Raphael, bringing the smaller male into the tight vise-grip embrace of his hulking frame. Strong arms flexed and embraced Raphael and he pulled his buttocks in close and their cocks touched. Raphael sighed aloud, allowing a moan to escape his lips. "Yeah man. You're making me so fucking hard. You’re so fucking tight, dude. Primed and ready to go for my huge fucking dick. I gotta fuck you man. Sink my rod deep into you and fill you up with my cum. It’ll feel great man, so fuckin good. Like you were born for it, man. To be filled up with a real man’s dick.” Dante pulled the twink's ass forward with his strong hands and began to massage the two tight globes between his thumbs. The smaller man continued his moans and felt his body relax, his legs spreading around the jock’s hard body. Dante growled with primal lust, biting his lower lip as the smaller man's hole relaxed and prepared to take his monster shlong. He knew submission when he saw it. Once Raphael's hole was loose and spasming with anticipation, the huge stud lined his throbbing dick up at the tight entrance and slowly slid inside him. A low moan filled the room and he began to buck his hips gently as he drove his erection deeper inside him. Raphael wrapped his thin legs around his hips to pull the brute even further inside and allow his monster cock a better angle for thrusting. Dante seemed happy to oblige, pumping his monster prick further. The sound of wet and sticky flesh smacking against flesh echoed through the bedroom followed by loud, powerful grunts. A frantic and aggressive sound. Moaning was replaced by guttural gasps. Raphael was beside himself with joy as the tremendous rod swelled within him. His inner walls tensed and tightened around the monster, gripping it as tightly as they could in order to enjoy the sensation to the fullest. The enormous adonis continued to feel his own body and display his enormous muscles all the while relentlessly fucking him with such great passion that it was bordering on manic. "Aww fuck, man. You're making me so hard. Your ass is so fucking tight bro." he moaned, clearly enjoying his dominance of the other male immensely as he showed off and flexed for his tiny lover. "It feels good, right? To have my huge fat cock stretching your ass? My muscles make you wanna come don’t they bro?" Dante smiled widely as he directed Rapahel’s vision to his massive muscular upper body and flexed his biceps which looked like they were carved from the most luxurious and sexy granite. "You're so hot bro, taking my whole dick like a champ. Bet no one's fucked you this deep before, have they? No one has a dick this fuckin' amazing, yeah?" A smile crept across his lips, seemingly able to sense how close to bursting his small lover was. "My big muscles are making you crazy, aren't they bro? They're so huge and thick, make me feel so sexy. I'm always lifting, man. Always pumping iron." Dante grunted and moaned as he felt up the size of his enormous body as he continue slam his throbbing dick inside Raphael's now spasming hole. "Watching my muscles swell and grow makes my huge nuts fill up, bro. Makes them fill up with seed. Oh God. My cum is so thick now. So virile. A real man's cum." Dante punctuated every word with a flex of a different group of muscle; his trap, his pecs and then his bicep. His voice was barely more than a snarl, a lustful and savage and primal sound that showed the immense lust that raged within his pumped body. "I know you wanna cum, man. But you gotta hold on for me, ok? Hang onto that feeling while I slam your prostate hard. I'll make you feel so fuckin good, bro. But I gotta show you something, 'kay? Wrap those arms of yours around my huge fuckin body. You gotta feel it to believe it." Raphael tightened his clutch on the huge man’s body as the power and intensity of the fuck increased, the pounding sensation inside Raphael's smaller ass intensified as the powerful thrusts drove the enormously gifted Adonis deep inside. And it kept growing. His inner walls and rectum stretched impossibly more as Dante's dick continued to thicken inside of him, stimulating his body and hitting his prostate, again and again. Raphael felt his small arms slowly pull apart as the frat bro's body expanded. Dante's moans were matched only by the strength and the volume with which his manhood and nuts slapped against his perineum, smacking against him, driving him to greater and greater pleasure. "Feels real nice don't it bro?" Dante huffed, never breaking his pace. "Growing nice and hard, thick as shit and sexy. Making my dick and bod so fuckin big, man. So hard. It makes me so horny, bro. So FUCKING horny. Feel how heavy and thick my muscles are now. Feel how big my dick's gotten. My huge nuts just swell up with cum while I fuck and it feels so god bro. Don't you want to feel like that?" Dante was now holding the other boy firmly by his ankles, using the new leverage to intensify his already frenetic pace, his breath coming fast and hard between his grunts as his gigantic shaft rammed deeper inside the twink’s battered hole and overstimulated prostate, sending a series of tingles shooting through Raphael's body. He could hear what Dante was saying but wasn't sure he understood. "That's what being part of the frat means, bro. It means being big, getting strong, and fucking hard. Every dude around you is a stud. Guys like us, we get our dicks pumped and swollen and veiny and dripping all the time bro. Our nuts grow huge, heavy with fuckin cum. Our asses get perfect, our muscles bulge and swell. I can show ya. I'll make you an even better stud than you were, Raphi. Join the house and grow with us. You just gotta say so." Raphael thought for a moment. Everything was happening so fast. The promise, the chance to be more, to be seen as handsome and not some wimp who would never date someone like Dante. After a split second Raphael threw his head back and screamed the word Dante desired to hear. "YES!" A look of sheer elation flashed across the hunk's handsome features and he suddenly put both his palms on the mattress beside Raphael's head and loomed in his view, his gorgeous body on full display as he continued long strokes with his throbbing cock. "You won't regret it. Soon you'll be just like me. You'll get so big, grow and grow and grow until you're a fucking stud. Sex on legs, man. That's what all the guys want. Be sexy and strong with big balls and an even bigger cock. So hot, so muscular. Soon you'll understand, bro. Soon." The sexy goliath began thrusting with increasing speed, fucking the petite young nerd with reckless abandon. Raphael's instincts kicked in and he let the intensity of the fuck wash over him, moaning and cursing with each thrust as his prostate was crushed against in the most pleasurable way imaginable. After what felt like eternity, Raphael could take it no longer. The nerdy twink felt his entire body spasm violently as his orgasm struck and cum sprayed out of his rigid cock, painting his flat stomach white. Dante roared his approval as the tight hole clamped around his manhood like a vice, the extra friction only driving him forward, burying his cock inside the tight warm hole deeper than it had ever been before. The brute slammed himself to the base with rapid, explosive movements and once his enormous dick could go no further, the virile Alpha male exploded within his small mate. "AW FUCK YEAH BRO!" The muscle hunk's already rock hard monster stiffened to diamond like hardness and finally erupted, shooting blast after sticky blast of his fertile seed deep into Raphael's eager hole. His balls strained and shook, pouring out an absolute torrent of viscous spunk into the twink, his ass flexing with each blast. The little twink shivered and groaned and felt the pulsating meat inside him spew out what felt like gallons of sweet man juice into him. Each pump made his already stretched guts seemed even tighter than before as he writhed in ecstasy under the hunk's invading monster shaft, milking the fat fuck rod for its entire load. "Fuck yes. Take it all bro. You're gonna make me so big." Raphi lay limp, exhausted from his climax, enjoy the sight of the huge stud filling him up. As Dante's orgasm subsided, Raphael felt a new kind of sensation wash over him. A sort of postcoital bliss that emanated from the alpha jizz inside him, but much stronger than normal. It made him feel sexy, satisfied and complete. With each deep breath he drew, the blissful, fuzzy, post orgasm sensation spread like a warm, glowing, comforting wave through his entire body. He felt amazing. He felt loved. He felt... Changed. "Yea bro. Fuuuucking finally." the stud said with a sultry, post-climatic groan that rippled through the twink's tender ass and drew a sigh from his plump lips. Dante slowly slid his length out from Raphi with a slick pop and grinned broadly down at him, his masculine and still-erect member gleaming in the light. "Oh I feel it now. I'm gonna get so big. You're gonna make me huge!" Suddenly, Dante's body started growing! All the muscles on his already bulked up, perfect body, slowly swelled with power as his mass seemed to stretch outward and up. The huge muscles were expanding in all directions as the frat bro's frame seemed to gain a few inches of width in his broad shoulders, and the chiseled lines of his heavily muscled stomach grew taught as his body gained an inch or two in height. Dante began to flex his rapidly expanding muscles and he let out a guttural moan as he slowly stroked his giant monster phallus as it visibly twitched and quivered. Raphi sat frozen in awe, his own cock starting to get hard all over again, marveling at the huge change before him. His Alpha brother's huge cock pulsated as a blast of hot and thick sperm jetted out the fat tip and painted the bed sheets below them white as the brunette came again, followed by several lesser spurts before stopping his stroke. Dante sighed happily and slumped a bit, the muscular frame of his shoulders appearing larger than life as Raphi drank it in and gasped in awe at the figure towering above him. The stud was smiling wide, his dimpled face sporting his characteristic shit eating grin while his rippling muscles and oozing cock made it known how powerful he had become. "Each times a bit different," Dante explained, feeling up his own body with his monster paws, caressing his sculpted chest muscles and biting his lip as the sensations overwhelmed him with pleasure. "Each time you fuck a guy it gets you bigger and stronger. A little bit each time, but noticeable. But when you're fucking a new guy, a guy who's not part of the frat, it's so much more potent. No one's really sure why, but I think it's on purpose. Like a reward or something. For making a new member of the frat." Dante stopped caressing his own body and placed a big hand on Raphi’s taut rounded abdomen and gave the twink’s belly a firm squeeze. "This right here? My seed in you? It's what's gonna make you into one of us. It's a bit slow the first time, takes a few hours. Maybe even the whole day. But tomorrow night, you’ll be a new man." Dante lifted his burly torso off Raphael and rose to his full height. The rest of his immense body was now on full display and the dark-skinned Latino slowly rotated his massive hips and proudly flaunted his massively defined and muscle-swollen nude body, letting out a long sigh of pleasure as he did. "Get some rest, bro. You'll need it tomorrow." Raphael lay back, splaying his body out in a loose slump, a languid smile spread across his flushed and excited face. He felt the sexy sensation again, a comfortable, warm feeling radiating from the well-fucked pit of his belly and flowing though his tiny figure. This time fatigue filled his senses and made him content and blissfully relaxed, and sleep took the soon to be stud into a pleasant slumber. *** And here's part two. I was quicker editing this one but probably wont be with the next parts. Expect them up within a few days.

POP Part 3 “Who the fuck are you?” said Detective Brick. Detective Carnitas slowly rose to his feet and stood at his full 6’6” height, hoping there was no stain noticeable on his pants. He composed himself, and shook out his enormous muscular limbs. “Fucking low blood sugar. Gotta remember to feed these big muscles when I’m hard at work on a case. Speaking of work, or the lack of it, you must be Brick, the guy who skipped out on my briefing. What was your emergency, a spin class?” The sex-crimes detective’s powerful physique was dripping with sweat and the glossy sheen highlighted the throbbing veins feeding liquid testosterone to pumped man-muscle bristling with striations. Brick scoffed. “You must be Carnitas. While you were taxing yourself trying to stand upright, I was down doing real police work on the street. Got a tip the pimp I’m after for a rape charge was gonna do a drive-by on the cop-shop. So I ran down his car, punched out the driver’s side window, yanked him out by his hair and introduced his face to the asphalt. That’s one less scumbag on the streets. What have you done in the last hour, request some files? Get your big ass stuck in a desk chair?” Carnitas swallowed as he stared at Brick's perfect proportions. His shoulders were as broad as his own, but unlike his, tapered down to a narrow waist cobbled with abs, obliques and serratus, and framed by a swole Adonis belt that dove into his black jeans. These jeans clung like skin to his sprinter’s thighs, thickly rounded calves and grapefruit-sized bulge. He was dark-haired, around Carnitas’ age at 29-30, with a high and tight fade, a classic cop push-broom mustache, a slightly caulifowered right ear and a healed over eyebrow scar that spoke of a love of a good scrap. At 6’4”, he was probably 260 lbs; all muscle and bone, not a shred of fat. That brash man-stink that had bitch-slapped the cum out of Steve’s cock continued to pummel his olfactory bulb like a speedbag. He gritted his teeth and willed his dick to extend its refractory period. “Admirable work,” Steve said. “But I gotta know you’re committed to homicide while you’re here.” Brick shrugged and reached for some paper towels to dry off. His veiny bicep flexed into a perfect ball as he blotted the back of a muscular neck as sleek and strong as a Greek column. “That was my last collar, guess I’m all yours now, Muscles.” He sniffed the full dark bush of his armpits. “You got your gym bag handy? I need to tame these pheromones before the lady cops commit sex-crimes on me, ha-ha. Spot me some Old Spice, will ya?” Carnitas walked Brick back to the case room and tossed him a towel and his deodorant out of his gym bag. “Thanks, man. I’ll catch ya later.” “Dude, it’s noon. That what they call a work-day at the SVU?” “You calling me lazy? You? Don’t make me laugh. But if you can’t manage I can tag along with whatever boy-errand’s on your schedule, if you insist.” Carnitas knew for sure he didn’t want this alpha-stud coming with him to see his contact. That would be chaos. “Chill, bro. Flint wants you to go down to the morgue and get an update from Dr Stain,” he lied. “The fuck? What, do you get all the sexy assignments?” You have no idea, Carnitas thought as he grabbed his jacket. *** Officer Carnitas grabbed the 5’10” 240 lb thug and threw him against the concrete wall. “I’ll ask you again, punk. We gonna do this the easy way, or the hard way?” “I’ll never talk to you, pig. I ain’t no snitch.” “That so, chuckles? I bet I got a way to make you sing.” Carnitas growled as he ripped the thug’s t-shirt to shreds, exposing his tatted muscle-tits and washboard abs. He whipped punches into those abs with his big fists. “You hit like a girl, pig.” “Alright tough guy, let’s see how you like this.” The cop stepped forward and started to paw the thug’s hard pec bulk with his big cop hands, then pinched his gristly nips, grinding them flat against his forefingers with his meaty thumbs. “Fuck… yeah… cop… milk my titties all you want, you’re just… turning… me… on!” Carnitas could feel a bulge plump up against the underside of his own ballsack. “Yeah, bitch, your baby dick getting hard?” The thug popped open his button fly and a smelly uncut monster cock exploded out. “7 lbs 6 ounces, cocksucker. It’s a boy.” “Fuck me!” Steve gasped. “Oh I intend to, muscle-cop.” With a swinging punch the thug buried his fist wrist deep in Carnitas’ gut. He dropped to his knees, his mouth gaping like a fish. The thug grinned lewdly as he gripped the cop’s ears. “That’s it pig, open wide.” With a single powerful plunge, the thug thrust his throat-busting battering ram right past Steve’s tonsils. “Fuck yeah, muscle-pig, take that meat.” The thug’s pecs flexed into iron domes as he forcefully face-fucked the huge officer’s skull once, twice, three times, then unloaded a torrent of thick creamy spunk into his gullet. “Eat that cum, muscle-cop. Fill up that soft belly with my sticky ex-con baby-batter.” Steve’s eyes bugged out as he swallowed desperately, holding his breath for fear he’d inhale cum into his lungs. Pulling out, the thug backhanded the cop sharply, who cried out at the blistering pain. “Fucking hell, Trevor!” The thug advanced on him snarling, but then froze. “Wait Steve, is that your safe-word?” “I don’t fucking have a safe-word you asshole. I was supposed to be the rough top.” Steve shook his head to clear some of the wooziness, then awkwardly got to his feet, with the help of his apologetic contact, and sometimes lover, who worked as a nurse at the General. “Aw, man, sorry, I got a little carried away with the role play. I thought you wanted to improvise the way you reacted to my dick reveal.” “What the hell is up with that anyway?” Steve palmed the nurse’s softening cock as it deflated back to average flaccid cock size. “I know, right, isn’t it awesome? It's a new experimental Super-Viagra, code-named Piledriver. The pharmacist on the urology floor has a crush on me and gave me a sample. How do you feel? I’m supposed to tell him about any side effects.” “I’d say you can definitely tell him ‘bouts of aggression’. But what do you mean, how do I feel? I didn’t take it.” “I think there’s an interaction with athenabol. DBag chaser that I am, I unloaded already in a dude before you got here. I swear ten minutes later he looked like he’d gained twenty pounds of meat.” “Damn, get me a case of that shit.” “I thought you wanted information,” Trevor said slyly. “I do,” said Carnitas, as he flopped onto the reinforced cot in the small room and ripped open the snaps of his blue police shirt. “That was just an unexpected fee, so I think you owe me.” He rubbed his sore abs tenderly. Trevor lay down beside him and propped up on an elbow. He fingered the flimsy fasteners. “These cop shirts have snaps?” “I was 200 lbs lighter when I last wore a street uniform, kid. This is a stripper shirt.” He flexed his 28” cannons and the sleeves split open with a rip of velcro. He looked to his right and his left. “Do these look bigger to you?” “It doesn’t work quite that fast. Tell me the stripper story.” “Later, it’s your turn to spill. What did you find out.” Trevor leapt up from the cot, and landed softly on his feet like a muscular cat. He quickly opened the door to check up and down the hall of the bathhouse. The Muscle Barn was a converted warehouse that catered to the massive muscle freaks of the athenabol era, and their many admirers. Concrete floors and walls, and specially made cots were a requirement to endure the rutting thrusts of farm-animal-sized men. “Okay, the coast is clear. Don’t want any of my fellow murses reporting me for this. The dude with the blown-out bicep is named Simon Crust. The ER nurses say they never saw anything like it. There was barely anything the surgeons could do for him except sew up the empty connective tissue of the muscle. With physiotherapy he’ll be able to maybe lift a fork to feed himself, but that’ll be it.” “So he’s been sent to the rehab hospital?” “Naw, Steve, they sent him to Bedlam Psych. He’s a complete emotional wreck. Suicidal. If you ask me, he didn’t have a lot of marbles to lose. Who goes in for something like that? Makes our little scene here look like a tea party.” “Thank, Trev. That helps. Give me a couple of months to practice on a fire hydrant and maybe we can try a reverse-delivery of that baby dick.” Trevor giggled and blushed. “I always have time for you and your muscles, Steve. Just work on those abs a bit, hey? One punch?” “Goddamit, kid, I wasn’t flexing. Oh shit, I think I feel it!” Steve got up from the cot and looked in the room’s floor to ceiling mirror. He bounced his juiced-up muscle-hogs “Aw fuck, Trev I can feel it. The growth. Look at this shit.” “Goddamn that’s hot. You gotta be up to what, 63 inches?” “Fuck yeah, a chest bigger than Tom Cruise is tall.” “Aw fuck is that more velcro I hear?” This time the cop-stripper pants were failing at the seams as Steve’s glutes, quads and hammies swelled in all directions. Trevor tore the fabric off in a flash and dove face first into Steve’s humongous squatbutt. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” Steve’s cock throbbed as Trevor burrowed his way like a badger into his burgeoning glutes, extending a long tongue to lap at the muscle-cop’s pucker. “I feel… swole all over, tight… like my whole body’s a hard-on. Fucking hell!” Steve threw up a bicep flex that destroyed his sleeves instantly. His peaks rose higher than ever before. He extended his index fingers and could tap the skin of ‘em, tight as hell like he was rapping on a snare drum. “Aw fuck Trev.” Steve’s brain started to melt as his lover upped the intensity of the rimjob, sucking and smacking that shithole like he was tunneling a new subway. His vision went blurry and the sounds faded away, replaced by a voice that rattled Det. Carnitas to his core. “FEEL GOOD?” “Oh God!” Steve groaned. “YOU LIKE THAT, BITCH?” “Yes! God, yes!” “YOU LIKE BEING SWELLED UP LIKE A BALLOON, DON’T YOU, FAGGOT.” Arms with muscles like hot steel snaked around his back, scalding his skin. “Uhhhhh…” Steve drooled, as two rough masculine hands grabbed his huge pecs. “I’m… not… a… faggot… I’m… a… man..!” “HUH-HUH-HUH,” the voice chuckled. “SURE.” CRINK! Steve watch in horror as his huge, enormously swollen chest compressed against the pressure of those arms. The hands linked fingers. Steve felt cannonball biceps flex, collapsing his lats. He felt impossibly hard pecs dig into the topography of his big back like twin backhoes. “No!” he yelled as he saw the arms link at the wrists, then the forearms, then the elbows. “A MAN IS SOMEONE WHO CAN DO THIS.” Holding Steve’s compressed torso in with one titanically powerful arm, the other arm flexed into boulders as it gathered Steve’s legs one at a time and snapped them upwards, folding the useless limbs into the lump of cop-meat. “Help!” Steve warbled as those arms massaged and rippled, pressed and squelched, molding his failing flesh into a volleyball sized sphere. “TAKE A LOOK AT THAT MUSCLE, FAGGOT. THAT’S A MAN.” Steve was held in the palm of one hand to face the other arm of the violating perp, which flexed, peaking into a veiny, striated mass of crackling nuclear power. Steve sobbed, his tears running into the crevices of his compressed ball-body, now shrinking further into a softball, then a billard ball, than a gumball by the powerful fingers around him. With one eye left available to see, he watched as those fingers brought him to the perp’s open mouth. “Ugh!” Steve cried as he was slurped up by a strong tongue, then rolled around inside. After a few mastications by powerful jaws, he felt the tongue deform the center of his ball. Suddenly he could see again, as his whole body was blown out the perps lips as a bubble. He saw himself inflating, his body filled with air from the strong bellows of his lungs. Finally the perp plucked the wad from his lips and Steve hung floating in the air before him. “GET A GOOD LOOK, BITCH-COP” Steve’s eyes drank in the view of the most masculine body in existence. Pecs like Saturn and Jupiter, delts, biceps and triceps like rocky planets, abs like a field of asteroids. And above them all, a domineering face, bright like the sun. Steve felt he could almost see the outline of his jaw as he heard the last words from his mouth. “ENJOY YOUR POP, FAGGOT” Then the two out-stretched god-arms slammed together, clapping Steve Carnitas out of existence. … … … “Steve, wake up, wake up” “Graaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!” Steve shrieked as his swollen dick exploded, cum barreling out of his dickslit, splashing all over the mirror and ricocheting back onto his pecs and face. He drew in great honking gasps as he flailed in Trevor’s arms. “Shhh. Shhh. It’s OK babe, you’re OK.” “Fuck fuck fuck.” Carnitas swore as his breathing began to slow. “Damn that was intense.” “You’re telling me. I was trying to figure out how I would explain to the ER doctors that I gave you a seizure from my rimjob. You scared me.” Trevor moved to the front of him and hugged him, burying his face in his deep pec cleft. With arms that regularly lifted super-obese patients, the strong nurse lifted Steve’s massive bulk and squeezed him tight. Steve sighed and looked in the mirror. He stared at Trevor’s muscular back, at his own extra-swollen muscles, and then at the cum on his lips. A ping of clarity sounded in his brain. “Holy shit” To Be Continued.

[Thanks for all the likes, folks, some gore but no snuff this chapter, and some worldbuilding, with a little office alpha-male dominance thrown in, cause you know I just can’t help myself.] POP, Part 2 The next morning Det. Steve Carnitas did what he always did when he had feelings he couldn’t explain. He went to the gym. The police gym was a good one. Though he was by far the biggest guy on the force, it had weights enough to challenge him. He trained for size anyway, not strength. High reps to utter muscular failure, twice daily workouts before and after work, pummeling his muscles to grow, grow, grow. “Never big enough,” was his motto, ever since high school, when he shot up a foot in height during freshman year and acquired the nickname “Beanpole”. Nobody called him that now. Even though he was a fixture at the gym, he still attracted stares when he worked out, and today a gobsmacked recruit couldn’t help but blurt: “Whoa!” every single time he caught sight of Carnitas’ 450 lbs of perma-bulk. He finished his sixth set of bicep curls, and feeling the full tension of the final negative rep, set the bar on the rack and shook out his veiny guns swollen with pump to 28” of bulging meat. “Fuck yeah,” he said. “Who’s the man? Bam!” He threw up a huge front double biceps and watched in the mirror as the muscle inflated, peaking level with his wrists. Thanks to a new steroid called athenabol, nicknamed Double-DBol, even amateur lifters like Carnitas who put in the work could slab on mass that would make Ronnie Coleman green with envy. He spied the recruit watching him out of the corner of his eye and twisted a side chest pose just for him. As his monstrous pecs heaved up and out into a Mount Rushmore of meat, he watched the color drain from the musclepup’s face and cum soak the front of his shorts. He chuckled. “Thank you Double-DBol, for my Double D’s.” Nothing like demolishing an arm workout and some involuntary muscle worship to buff up the confidence. And he needed it, after that scene last night. He’d blamed low blood sugar when Dr Stain had revived him. “I oughta know I need to feed these big muscles,” he’d said. “Guess I’m too much man for this world.” “Yeah, you said that.” Dr Stain rolled his eyes. “Maybe try cycling off the steroids.” “All natural, baby,” he’d lied. Carnitas changed into his work clothes and left the gym for the case room. He shoved his gym bag under his desk just as he saw Chuckie clearing off his, his possessions going into a file box. “You get fired for snorting evidence again, Chuckie?” “Naw dog, I’m just the low man on the totem pole, they’re bringing in an SVU guy to work with you on that new case and I gotta make myself scarce.” Special Victims Unit, sex crimes. Makes sense, thought Carnitas, remembering the cum on the vic’s lips. “What guy?” “I don’t know his name but he is the most jacked guy I ever seen.” “Excuse me?” Carnitas bristled. “Naw dog, you’re bigger than him, sure, you’re bigger than anyone I know, but JACKED, you know what I’m saying?” “Get the fuck outta here, moron.” “Jeeze, dog, roid rage much?” Carnitas banged the drawers of his desk in anger as he collected the files for briefing. He checked his watch. “Shit.” Carnitas hated being late. Mostly because ever since he blew past 400 lbs, he knew the other cops saw him as slow. There was a limit to admiration of muscle in cop culture. Once you got to the point where you looked like you couldn’t chase a perp, the compliments stopped, and the insults started. Carnitas didn’t give a shit what people thought of his body, but he hated that others judged his character based on that. Slow, unprofessional, or the worst: vain. But he knew it was a losing battle ‘cause if there was any people who liked to judge, it’s cops. Carnitas entered the briefing room. Sure enough the other homicide detectives were already there. “Get trapped under a barbell, slim?” asked Hamm, the bearish data officer. “No, trapped under your mama, piglet.” “No porcine insults, please, in my house,” said Lt Flint. “Sorry, boss.” “Get us started then.” Carnitas waddled to the front of the room and began sticking pictures to the whiteboard. Detective Shaw whistled a catcall. “That ass is criminal, sweetheart.” “Shaw,” Lt. Flint growled. “Sorry boss, I’ll try to keep it in my pants. But damn, Stevie don’t make it easy.” Carnitas took a deep breath and let it out. Garrett Shaw was 170 lbs soaking wet but he could get away with shit-talk like that because he was a black-belt in five different kinds of grappling. If you tried to take a swing at him, he’d tie you up in knots, then frog-march you around the case room making you slap your own face. “The victim,” Carnitas said finally, “is Peter Tinker, a 35-year-old retail manager of a sports nutrition store. Unmarried, no kids, lived alone, no record. Neighbors describe him as quiet and unassuming, remarkable only for his muscular size. Dr Stain’s report puts him at 6’4” and an estimated pre-mortem weight of 410 lbs.” “Anything else notable in Stain’s report?” asked Flint. “Some alcohol in his system but no illicit drugs. Antidepressants in the medicine cabinet but not in the bloodwork. Suggests he wasn’t taking ‘em.” “Off his meds,” Shaw shot out, “coulda been suicidal, hired this guy to off him? Wait a sec, you said no illicit drugs?” “Yeah.” “Bullshit. This guys a Double-DBag if I ever seen one.” Carnitas winced at the harsh nickname. “Athenabol doesn’t show up on tox screens.” “Guess you would know, Stevie.” “Shaw!” Flint barked. “If you don’t find your frontal lobes I’m going to find them for you by fingerfucking your brainpan.” “Geez, boss.” “Hamm. What have you got on this streaming site?” “Dark web, robust VPN, so untraceable in terms of a location. The vid posted of the murder has been viewed 100,000 times in the last twelve hours. You can view it once then you gotta pay $10 to download it. Eighty percent of those viewers did so, so the perps made $800,000 already, minus whatever cut the dark-web launderers take.” “That money’s got to come up for air at some point.” “I’ll keep an eye out. The other vids on the profile are basic strong-man stuff, starts with bending bars, progresses to ripping the doors off of junked cars and mangling them. I’ll try to match the locations with local junkyards. In all the vids, not much to go on in terms of ID, he wears a balaclava. The tatt in the snuff video isn’t visible in the other vids so it must be new.” “Shaw, you take the tattoo shops.” Shaw flexed a 16” bicep with a busting chain-link tatt over its peak. “Sure, boss, I could use some new ink.” “NOT expensable.” “Aw, you’re no fun.” Hamm airplayed his tablet to the room’s wide-screen. “There is one other vid of interest, from a week ago. Hold onto your breakfast.” Carnitas quickly moved a file folder to cover his crotch as the perp’s ultra-deep voice vibrated the walls. “FLEX THAT MEAT, BITCH” he said from off screen. On camera, a massive redheaded bodybuilder licked cum from his quivering lips and flexed his right arm into what had to be a 25” gun (at least); he was seated against the backdrop of a plain white wall. “AW, YEAH. GET READY TO POP.” “Pop me, Daddy, please! Uhhhhh!” The perp then got so close he must have sat in the big muscle-sub’s lap. The phone camera moved like it was switched to his right hand, and you could then see the perp’s powerfully muscled left arm aligned perpendicular to the redhead’s. Initially the contrast was all in the sub’s favor, his arm was clearly bigger. But then the perp flexed. “Holy shit!” Carnitas swore. A cannonball exploded out of the perps arm and instantly deformed the sub’s muscle into a crescent shape molded to the perfect sphere of the perp’s bicep. “Ahhh… no stop it hurts too much!” cried the sub. “HUH-HUH-HUH, NO TURNING BACK NOW BITCH, WELCOME TO POP CITY.” “I think I’m gonna be sick,” said Lt Flint. Four tough homicide detectives watched as stretch marks bloomed, then tore and a ragged red ball the size of a rump roast popped out of the sub’s arm, splattered against the white wall and dropped out of sight. The poor sub was shrieking in pain but the camera was on the move, the perp reaching down to palm the bloody mass. Thick fingers closed into a fist and squelched the meat into hamburger. “SWEET.” Hamm closed the airplay and they sat in silence for a moment before Shaw spoke. “So? Texas Roadhouse for lunch? Who’s in?” Carnitas shook his head and found his voice. “Perp’s left-handed, started off filming with his left. And that’s gotta be a one-of-kind injury. I’ll tap my sources at the ERs to see where it came in. That poor dude, if he’s still alive, is our best lead.” “Agreed. You team up with Detective Brick from SVU tomorrow and find him.” “Where is that guy? Chuckie said he saw him here.” “Thanks for the reminder to chew you out for being late,” Lt Flint snorted. “But I don’t have the stomach for it right now. You missed him, he had to leave; some emergency. He’s got your number. He’ll text you later. Team dismissed.” As they were leaving, Shaw said: “Stevie, lemme ask you something.” “It’s Steve, you little shi—OOWWW!” Shaw grabbed his hand and cranked his pinky in an agonizing fingerlock, dragging him into the washroom. Shaw shoved Carnitas against the tiled wall hard enough that a few tiles broke under the huge detective’s bulk. He let go of his finger and slipped off his black t-shirt while Carnitas shook out his sore hand. “Stop this, Garrett,” Carnitas mouth went dry as he took in Shaw’s lean, rugged physique, absolutely ripped to the bone. “This is s-sexual harassment in the workplace.” “That right, Stevie? Something about this you find sexual? Interesting.” “I meant—” “We’re just two friends having a conversation right? What’s sexual about that?” Carnitas stared helplessly at Shaw’s muscular pecs, they were definitely meatier and more defined than the last time he saw them, and still had that intensely sexy thatch of blond hair nestled between them. Shaw stepped right up to him, chest-to-chest, or rather, Shaw’s chest to Steve’s upper abs, because of their height difference. “So here’s my question. You think the perp is a Steamroller?” Carnitas scoffed but then paused to consider what was in fact a good question. With the arrival of Double-DBol, there was a backlash against PEDs in the physique industry. Many bodybuilders switched entirely to natural training, saying that athenabol made the sport “too easy”. Steamroller was a mysterious, almost cult-like group, devoted to techniques of boosting testosterone naturally, and developing training methods that prioritized strength, muscle hardness, and tantric-like muscle control. Devotees of Steamroller claimed they could flatten any “lazy-ass Double-DBag” in any fitness challenge, hence the name. Carnitas looked down to see Garrett eyeing his enormous muscle-tits like he wanted to motorboat them in the worst way. “Eyes up here, dickhead.” “Aw, I know exactly where you want my dickhead, Stevie, but we’ll save that for when we’re off the clock seeing as you’re a stickler for HR rules, all of a sudden.” “So you’re asking if a psychopathic killer could be a member of the latest cult? I don’t see why not, but what’s the connection?” “Well, maybe it’s easiest if I show you.” Shaw took another half step forward, and flexed his pecs, pinning Carnitas to the wall. The pressure from below bulged up his muscle-tits like a push-up bra. “Enough,” Steve said, and tried to take a step forward. Shaw didn’t budge. “What the fuck, Garrett? I’m more than twice your weight and you’re not even bracing your legs.” “I know, right? And I only joined Steamroller two weeks ago. I’ve had five, maybe six workouts?” “This is insane.” “You haven’t even seen the best part yet. Now shut up a second this takes some concentration.” Garrett Shaw relaxed his pecs but expanded his chest to take a slow deep breath, then again. As he continued to breathe deeply, an equivalent calm came over Carnitas. The huge cop was astonished to realize that his own breathing was yielding to Shaw’s. He was exhaling when the smaller man inhaled, and inhaling when he exhaled. He tried to reverse this, and found he couldn’t. He started to panic, but this dissipated as he matched Shaw’s strong, muscular heartbeat that was thudding against his sternum like it was giving him CPR. Shaw locked eyes with him, nodding knowingly, and Carnitas was struck by how ruggedly handsome he was, with his square jaw, thick blond stubble already bristly at noon, and intense green eyes. Steve threw an erection so hard it was almost painful. Shaw parted his lips and his voice dripped sex as he intoned: “Let’s go for a ride, baby.” Steve felt a band of steel pinch into the groove between his first and second row of abs. Garrett rolled his pecs from the bottom up and Carnitas slid up the wall like he was riding an elevator.” “Oh fuck, Shaw.” “Pretty sweet, huh? You like all this muscle? I can feel you down here, seems you like it.” “I weigh 450 lbs…” “Really? You seem lighter.” Shaw switched to a pec bounce and his concrete slabs pummeled Steve’s abs, and the force jiggled his muscle-tits like bongos. “Aw fuck, Garrett I’m gonna…” “Hold that thought. So it stands to reason that if I can do this after two weeks, then it’s a good bet our perp is a Steamroller.” “Yes. Awwww….” “And that your handsome friend Garrett is both way smarter and way stronger than you?” “So smart… so strong… so handsome…” “Cool, now back to you, you were saying?” “I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” Shaw stepped back abruptly and Det. Carnitas slumped to the floor in a heap. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘POP’. But not while I’m here, that would be sexual harassment. Go jerk your little dicklet in the stall, Double-DBag,” Shaw cackled as he swaggered out the door. The spell broken, Carnitas limply sat up against the wall, he tried to stifle his breathing to calm his erection. He almost managed it when a tall dark-haired man walked in pulling a sweat-soaked wife-beater over his head. His deep, hairy armpits flooded the room instantly with brutal man-stench. “Eep…” cried Carnitas as a cum-explosion detonated in his crotch. The man turned around and looked down on him. “Who the fuck are you?” said Detective Brick.

Coach Peters