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Chapter Three Sam never intended to let the steroids do the work for him. Instead, he used them as a tool to push him to new heights of muscle growth. Sam knew cycling steroids this early in his journey wasn’t the wisest decision, he was barely 170lbs when he started and had only been working out for just over a month. However, this decision didn’t phase Sam, something had shifted. He no longer looked at the massive bodybuilders he followed online with envy, he saw them now as goals he needed to surpass. One month into his first cycle and Sam barely recognized his life. He had boxed up his video games and there wasn’t any junk food in his apartment, those shelfs had been stocked with every supplement he could get his hands on. When Sam wasn’t at work, eating or sleeping, he was at Brutus. He had augmented Max’s original workouts with more advanced exercises he discovered online and his strength was increasing dramatically. The most shocking changes were taking place on Sam’s body. Growing up as a skinny kid, Sam always assumed that was his lot in life. Even when he finally started workout out, there was a part of him that feared he would to stay skinny. Once Sam made the decision to truly dedicate himself, the changes were nothing short of shocking. Sam was quickly becoming a muscle generating machine. Sam was at work, walking one of the endless aisles of materials when he heard someone curse behind him. He turned to see another employee staring at the shelf. “What’s up?” Sam asked. “Fucking box is bigger than I thought. I need to go get a trolley.” Sam approached and saw the box in question. It was pretty large and the label said it weighed 50lbs. Without hesitating, Sam pulled the box off the shelf, easing cradling it in his arms. The other employee took a step back with wide eyes. “Damn kid don’t hurt yourself.” “It’s not a problem.” Sam said, secretly relishing the feeling of his arms stretching the fabric of the regulation polo he was wearing under his bright safety vest. “Shit, I need two boxes.” The guy said, checking the order form. “If you can pull it down, stack it on top of this one.” Sam said showing no signs of a struggle. “Dude! Don’t be a hero, I’ll get a trolley.” “NO NEED.” Sam said sternly. “I got this.” The guy looked cautious but pulled the box off the shelf. He looked a little scared as he placed the box on top of the other, loading Sam up with 100lbs of material. Sam let out a little huff but maintained his balance. His already strained arms started to burn but as they swelled bigger, Sam became more confident. “See, easy. Where are we taking these?” The guy could only point. Sam started to move. Each step causing his arms to get even more pumped along with his quads supporting the extra weight. It took him just over a minute to make it to the nearest counter where he placed the boxes down as delicately as possible. He let his arms fall to his sides where the other employee just stared in disbelief. “Fuck me! Look at the size of those pipes.” Sam looked down and even he was surprised at what he saw. His arms looked pumped to twice their former size. “You got a problem there kid.” The guy said pointing at Sam’s right sleeve that had practically disintegrated at the seam, exposing his entire bicep and the lower part of his shoulder. Sam was soaring from the feeling of carrying the two heavy boxes. He reached across his body and pulled hard on the torn sleeve, ripping it off entirely. He repeated the same motion on his left sleeve. He left the guy speechless as he walked away with his pumped arm on display. His boss saw the state of his shirt later in the day but instead of berating Sam, he seemed impressed by his confidence and only smiled as Sam walked by, arm exposed and still pulsing with new power and size. Sam rushed to the gym after his shift. He still wore his oversized sweats but noticed they were beginning to feel tighter around his shoulders, chest and especially his quads. It was leg day and Sam was intent on punishing himself to the brink of collapse. Two hours later, Sam could barely walk and needed to use the surrounding equipment to keep himself upright as he slowly made his way to the locker room. Sam struggled to remove his sweat soaked clothes before stepping on the scale wearing just his boxer briefs. He let out a loud gasp when the dial displayed 181lbs. “Holy shit!” Sam said in utter disbelief. It had only been a month since starting steroids and he had packed on 15lbs of new muscle. Sam looked at his reflection in the mirror to see that every pound he’d gained was hard, lean mass. He instantly got lost in the development he saw. His shoulders were perfectly round with striations and veins snaking across the surface. His arms visibly pulsed with power and his pecs looked hard as rocks jutting from his upper body. Sam clasped his hands at his waist and let out a moan as every muscle flexed, harder and more vascular than he ever thought he would be. Sam raised his arms into a double bicep pose and marvelled as his lats spread out wide from either side, each with their own veins beginning to appear. He shifted his eyes to his arms and felt his cock swell as he compared them to the size of his head, imagining the day they would be far larger. Sam took a step back and surveyed his painfully pumped quads and calves. They were so bloated and full of blood, he could barely see the different muscle groups. As he struggled to flex his quads, he became entranced by their impressive size, they looked like the thighs of a track cyclist. Sam pivoted and flexed his hamstrings as hard as he could. Through the intense pain he saw his endless hours of posing at home was paying off, his muscle control was exceptional. As his hard, round hamstrings flexed, he noticed his calves doing the same. He released the pose and twisted his left foot so his calf ballooned from either side of his shin. From his vantage point, Sam’s calf looked like it was forged from steel. Breaking himself away from his reflection, Sam noticed his cock was fully hard to the point of becoming painful. He rushed to the nearest shower stall, turned on the hot water and barely touched himself before a massive load of cum sprayed on the opposite wall. The sensation was so intense, Sam couldn’t hold back a loud, almost primal growl as he reached peak orgasm. As Sam turned off the water, he heard what he thought was a locker door being slammed shut but as he existed the shower, holding a towel over his still hard cock, the locker room was empty. Sam dressed quickly as the sound of growling stomach signalled it was time to eat again. Finishing his third plate of food, Sam decided to do something he had never done. He opened his phone and reached for Ben’s profile. He had deleted him after Ben dumped him but something made Sam want to look. As the profile loaded, butterflies began to flutter in Sam’s stomach. The top pinned post were from the bodybuilding show Ben entered. Sam hovered for a minute, reliving how amazing it was to see Ben compete. He scrolled down and was shocked at what he saw. It had barely been two months since Ben left and during that time it was clear Ben had been hard at work. Gone was his ripped, contest-ready body. In its place was a full fledged bodybuilder. Reading the caption of a recent post revealed Ben had reach 210lbs. While not ripped, the added mass looked incredible. Post after post showed Ben transforming from a ripped classic physique competitor into a round, full, offseason bodybuilder. Sam stopped on a post that only showed a poster for a bodybuilding show. It was set to take place in three months. Ben’s caption stated that he not only planned to compete, he was determined to win the classic category. Sam was mortified to notice his cock had stiffened as he viewed Ben’s pictures. He tossed his phone aside and stood up. “Fuck! He looks fucking big. FUCK!” Sam yelled and stomped around his living room. He stopped at the floor length mirror and looked at his boxer clad body. He sucked in his stomach and raised his arms into a perfect classic physique double bicep pose. While not nearly the size of Ben, Sam had to admit he looked like a proper bodybuilder. From over his shoulder, he glanced at the pile of fresh steroids that had been delivered a few days prior. He relaxed the pose and quickly filled a number of vials. This was a new product that was advertised to be barely legal in its potency. Without hesitation, Sam drove the vials into his dense shoulder muscle, eliciting a low, pleasurable moan. Tossing the empty needles aside, Sam reached for his phone again and with some searching, discovered Max’s social media profile. While private, he was able to send him a direct message. Sam had not laid eyes on Max in a month but he typed the message nonetheless. “Max. It’s Sam, from Brutus. I need your help. Are you free to meet tonight?” Sam typed, following up with his address. Within a minute, Sam saw Max’s reply. “I can be there in an hour.” Sam was pacing his apartment when Max buzzed. Sam quickly threw on a pair of shorts and t-shirt, he contemplated a hoodie but decided against it at the last moment. He had just pulled the t-shirt on when he heard the knock at the door. “WOAH!” Was the first thing Max yelled when the door opened. Having never seen Sam in anything other than baggy sweats, he could clearly see the changes in Sam’s body over the last month. “Come in.” Sam said and stood aside to allow Max’s imposing mass to squeeze by. Max never took his eyes off Sam as he entered the apartment. “Sam! I can’t believe what I am seeing. You look like a completely different person.” “Thanks Max, I guess in a way I am.” Sam said. “Thanks for coming.” “No worries. I was surprised you messaged. Is everything alright?” “More than alright actually. I need to ask you something.” Sam said as he moved towards the living room and motioned for Max to have a seat on the sofa. Sam couldn’t help notice how much of the large piece of furniture Max occupied. He also saw that Max suddenly looked a little nervous being in Sam’s home. Max surveyed the room and Sam saw him noticing the containers of supplements scattered around the room. He also saw Max linger on the boxes of steroids on the dining room table along with numerous syringes. “Sam, is that-?” “You know what it is." Max looked at Sam with worry on his face. “I know what I’m doing Max. Hell, I’ve already gained 28lbs since we meet just over two months ago.” “28lbs!” Max shouted. “How is that possible?” “By working my ass off. And I guess I’m genetically designed to get bigger.” Sam said, trying to lighten the mood. Max stood up and unzipped his huge hoodie. As it came loose, the t-shirt he wore underneath did little to hide his staggering size. “It’s suddenly really fucking hot in here.” He said, tossing the hoodie aside. “28lbs!” He repeated. “Yeah. About the same weight as one of your forearms.” Sam joked, motioning towards the gnarly mass of twisted muscle that extended past the sleeve of Max’s shirt. Max laughed. “Look, I’m in no position to lecture you, clearly, but please tell me you know what you are doing?” “I know enough Max but that’s sort of why I messaged you. I need your help. This might sound crazy but I want to enter a bodybuilding contest. It’s happening in three months and I NEED to not only compete, I need to win the classic physique category.” There was a full minute of silence as Max just starred at Sam, making him feel a little uncomfortable. Finally, Max started to shake his head and muttered, “No.” Sam felt like he had been punched in the stomach. “What!” “I’m not going to help you win the classic physique category; I’m going to help you win the open bodybuilding and the overall trophy.” Sam wasn’t sure he heard Max correctly. “Look at what you’ve accomplished in two months Sam! I would have bet money on you maybe adding 5lbs so far. You are the definition of a muscle machine. Even without the gear, I bet you would have still put on a lot of muscle. I can see how dedicated you’ve become so I’ll help.” Sam wanted to burst into tears but instead, he lunged at Max, wrapping his arm around as much of his huge body as he could. The sensation of what he felt caused Sam to jump back a few steps. “FUCK MAX!” Max suddenly looked uncomfortable. “How fucking huge are you?” Sam almost yelled. Seeing Max in just an oversized t-shirt was one thing but the sheer size and density of what was hidden underneath was something else. “It’s about time you asked.” Max said. “You know I’m 5’7” but I guess that’s all you really know. I’m 27 and this morning I tipped the scales at 335lbs.” It was Sam’s turn to be shocked into silence. He placed both hands over his mouth to stifle a scream. “I told you I wanted to be a freak Sam.” Max said and pulled up the right sleeve of his t-shirt up to reveal the largest bicep Sam had ever seen. Max slowly flexed his arm, causing a tidal wave of muscle and veins to erupt in every direction. His bicep rose higher than his shoulder while his tricep split into countless striations with equally impressive mass. The contrast between the arm and Max’s head was comical. “This is 27” right now.” “OH MY GOD!” Was all Sam could say. Max smiled but still looked uneasy. He lifted his arms and bent at the waist, beckoning Sam to pull his t-shirt over his head. Sam grabbed the fabric on Max’s back noticing the resistance his body provided. As the shirt cleared his head, Max stood up. Sam couldn’t restrain himself and audibly gagged at the sight. “Sam?” “Max! I’ve never…how can someone be so…this is fucking unreal.” He stammered as a wall of muscle unlike anything outside of his most extreme fantasies was inches from his face. Sam raised his shaking hands and placed them on Max’s pecs, registering the intense heat they generated. He also couldn’t recollect ever feeling anything so hard. He looked at Max’s face as the big man took a step away. “What is it?” Sam asked. “I’ve never done this before. With a guy.” Max said. “It’s ok Max. Show me just how fucking huge you are.” Max hesitated for a moment before moving his hands towards his astoundingly small waist. In a shocking display of muscle control, each pair of abdominals, that looked entirely devoid of fat, appeared to flex independently. Max’s massive arms slammed against his equally massive pecs causing his whole upper body to inflate towards Sam’s stunned face. “My waist is 32” and my chest is just over 67”. 27” arms and 22” forearms.” Max said, sounding like the simple flex required more effort than he made it look. “HOLY FUCK!” Sam said, unable to even blink. Max held the pose a little longer before bending forward into a classic most muscular pose. His pecs inflated so much, they cradled his chin in his stunningly deep cleavage. While his arms looked bigger than most professional bodybuilder’s legs, his shoulders and traps erupted into a twisted mass of striations and veins that appeared to encase his head. “UUUURRRRGGGGHHHH.” Max growled as he willed himself to flex even harder. “Not many people could handling see me at my biggest.” Sam could no longer remain standing. He stumbled back and fell onto the sofa, looking up at the largest creature he had even seen. Max relaxed the pose and with a flick of his wrist, untied his outrageously baggy pants. He paused, “You sure?” Sam nodded, his mouth open but no words came out. Max let the waist fall open and as the pants tumbled to the floor, Sam emitted a scream. Max squared his shoulders and flared his lats while his small waist seemed to shrink further. Under the pants he wore tight, short briefs that were pushed as far up as they could go. Max’s lower body looked like a computer generated character from a science fiction movie. In every direction and with staggering detail, muscles exploded. There wasn’t a gap from his crotch to his knees, instead, there were just slabs of pulsing muscle. Each muscle group was clearly separated from the other and triple the size they should have been. Just supporting his upper body caused each muscle to flex and pulse. Sam audibly gagged at the sight of Max’s calves. His feet were spread wide to accommodate the sheer size of his quads, but even still, they almost touched. “42” quads and 24” calves.” Max said as he stood perfectly still, betraying everything Sam thought he knew about what being a bodybuilding meant. “Y-Y-Y-You’re a F-F-F-FREAK!” Sam managed. Max looked concerned. Sam rose from the sofa and slowly approached. “I mean it! You are the freakiest, most outrageously developed person I’ve ever seen.” “It’s not too much? It is for just about everyone.” “You’re fucking right it’s too much. It’s fucking grotesque! Look at you! No one should ever look like this.” Max looked terrified and suddenly mortified. He started to bend down to pull his pants back up but Sam stepped closer and grabbed his hands, guiding him back to standing. Sam looked Max in the eyes and brought his hands around the thick cords of muscle that should have been a human neck. Sam pulled Max’s face to his and kissed him gentle on the lips. Max hesitated for a few seconds before pressing his lips harder and returned Sam’s kiss. Suddenly, all of their hands were moving, exploring and caressing. Sam pulled his shirt off and while his suddenly felt smaller than he ever had, Max was entranced with his newly developing size. “Every muscle is so fucking huge and ripped. It’s like a dream and a nightmare combined.” Sam said between kisses. “You’re the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen.” “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown Sam. I can’t wait to see you get even bigger.” Max said as his hand slide down Sam’s hard, bumpy back. “Fuck yeah. I want you to make me a freak too.” Sam said as he pulled back a bit so Max cold see his face. “I want to be bigger than you. I want you to feel small around me.” Max let Sam go and suddenly looked very serious. “Really?” “YES! It’s all I ever wanted. I don’t want to just be big. I want to be THE BIGGEST. I don’t want to be ripped, I want to be MASSIVE, PULSING PILE OF MUSCLE AND VIENS!” “Fuck. You are serious!” Max replied. As Sam lowered himself in front of Max, pulling his shorts down as he grabbed Max’s thick cock he looked up, no longer able to see Max’s face over his bulging pecs. “Tell me what I need to do to win that show.” He said as he engulfed Max’s cock. Max let out a loud, rumbling roar. Sam felt every muscle on Max’s enormous body flex as pre-cum filled his mouth.

This is an 11 out of 10. Now....remember to breathe....

Originally written, with some assistance from Perchance.org's Story Generator -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rome, the Eternal City, and also eternally boring for Vito Bianchi. The young celebrity bodybuilder/supermodel, who relaxed on his luxury hotel bed and took in the view of the sunset, didn't find Rome itself to be boring obviously. He loved it here and wanted to see everything the city had to offer before he was on the move again, but that was the problem... He couldn't go out. He wasn't allowed to. A sportswear company had hired Vito to be the face on a few promotional pictures, and the only reason they were in Rome was because they were going to use the tennis courts at Fort Italico as a backdrop. Pietro, his agent, had made it clear that he had "no time for silly caffetteria stops and giro turistico" despite them staying overnight. Right now he'd be content with some peace and quiet until the morning, but not even Vito could afford that luxury, as Pietro swung open the suite's door with force, eyes glued to his phone and giggling with glee. "Pietro, diavolo?!" Vito cursed in Italian, spooked by the doors banging. "Ever heard of knocking?" Unsurprisingly, the salt-and-pepper haired agent ignored him, simply saying: "Hah, this is great!" Vito sighed, putting a hand on his forehead. "And what exactly is 'great'?" he asked. Pietro grinned, his off-white teeth glinting in the soft light of the room. "I managed to convince those Kappa idiotis to pay us double what they offered before! Can you believe it? I'm a miracle worker, Vito mio!" He slapped his hands together, his eyes shining with delight, whilst the young celebrity rolled his eyes and grinned, leaning back on his pillow and grabbing a book to read. "Ah! Not too late up with that book, okay?" He ordered in that almost-forced tone of constant joy he put on. "The car's coming from 7am sharp, so be downstairs and ready by then, va bene?" "Va bene." Vito sighed, and with not another word Pietro laughed heartily and left the suite in a rush. The door closed with a loud click, and the room fell silent aside from the ticking of a clock and the ambience outside. The Italian man leaned up to check the door quickly, assuming for a moment that his agent would barge back in with the most pointless news, but he didn't. Vito got up, locked the door, then darted for the antique wardrobe to snag some clothes from his bags. The hunk stripped down, quickly taking a moment to admire his muscular physique teetering on the edge of extreme bodybuilding, and rub over the lump in his underpants that was his gigantic package. Vito barely suppressed a moan and got semi-hard, but resisted touching himself more until later. Reaching into his baggage, Vito pulled out a pair of denim jeans and pulled them on, struggling to get the waistband past his bulge and ass due to their size. He also grabbed a plain button shirt and barely managed to slip it on, looking down at how wide the button gaps were. "Oh yeah." Vito muttered to himself, grinning a little as he listened to the shirt creaking when he flexed. "Così buono." Vito quickly shut the curtains in his suite, then went into the bathroom and did the same. Being such a luxury room, it had plenty of big windows that gave him a great view of the city, but those outside a great view of him. He reached into the walk-in shower and turned it on, already feeling the heat blast from it making him sweat. Vito stepped beneath the cascading water, enjoying it run down his toned figure and soak into his clothes, then reached for a bar of soap to lubricate his hands. Now all set to have a little fun, the Italian stud quickly got to work pleasuring himself. *CREEAAAK* With one arm Vito flexed, feeling the sleeve bunch and strain against his immense bicep, while his other went down and grabbed at the spherical mass pushing at the front of his jeans, gently shaking it. He moaned and arched his back, thrusting his hips forward slightly as he did so, the jeans growing tighter around his cock. His muscles flexed and glistened with water, his six-pack abs visible through his shirt. Feeling his erection grow, Vito brought his second arm up to flex. *POP!* Went one of the shirt's buttons off his chest, further stretching the others. A seam on his left sleeve began to open itself, and the fabric bunched up above his bulging shoulder. The Italian man's bodybuilder physique was practically glowing, his veins standing out prominently against his taut skin as he flexed. He threw his head back, letting out a low growl as he arched his back, causing his abs to tense and his cock to further tent his jeans, the zipper of which bust open as well. "Cazzo..."He grunted as he flexed harder, the shirt stretched impossibly tight over his lats and biceps, the seams almost ready to pop. Vito was already so close to exploding... Grabbing the ripped fabric and yanking it off with all his might, Vito's godlike upper body was left exposed to the hot water. His muscles flexed and pulsed with power, his biceps bunching into cannonballs. After what remained of his pants' zip broke apart, his log and nuts were only held back by a soaking pair of briefs which struggled to contain them. Pre-cum drooled out the tip of it, forming a tiny pool on the floor as he continued to pleasure himself. "I'm so close..." Vito panted, massaging his engorged manhood as he flexed his other arm. The thick veins on his bicep pulsed with power, the muscle flexing and straining against his glistening skin. He could feel his orgasm building, pressing against the last barrier of his wet briefs. He groaned, arching his back as he thrust his hips forward, the water splashing around him. Now came the part of this he loved the most: the building pressure before an ejaculation... A strange but welcoming thing that always happened with Vito when he was going to cum was a rapid expansion of his privates - and boy, did they grow! His cock stretched impossibly long, as if reaching for something just out of his grasp, and its girth grew as well, filling his struggling briefs to their breaking point. His balls swelled bigger than ripe peaches and tightened. Gripping his shaft and feeling something hot run up it from inside, Vito knew it was time. "ARGH CAZZO!" The Italian hunk yelled out as he buckled. His erect éclair exploded, with hefty douses of Bianchi cream spilling from it. The tip of his briefs filled up a little, then started to leak what it couldn't hold onto the shower floor, where the running water pulled it along to the drains. Vito, meanwhile, was catching his breath as he took in and glowed over how intensely he came. In fact, the pleasure of that orgasm was so amazing that no sooner had he reached towards the shower handle to switch it off, there came another rising up his shaft, and at breakneck speed! "Ohh- oh my god!" Vito gasped out. "A-anothe- AAH!" His second orgasm, while certainly not as powerful as the first, was none the less satisfying for Vito. Another thick rope erupted out through the drenched fabric, making his gigantic cock throb again. The warmth spreading through his body and the feeling of release couldn't be described as anything less than intoxicating. He craved for more, but knew that wasn't possible right now. "Okay... that was fun..." He chuckled almost childishly, standing up and flexing whilst a strand of seed hung off the tip of his clothed erection, whiffing in the arousing scent of musk on his figure. As he left the shower, Vito looked down at what remained of his button shirt scattered all around him, while peeling off his sodden jeans gently and grinning smugly at them. "Not bad, man..." He dumped the torn clothes in a bin, then he covered them with some more trash to be positive they wouldn't be spotted if any maids came to tidy the place while he was gone. The supersized supermodel reached for some toilet roll and wiped the hanging cum strand from his flaccid dick, then flushed it and dried himself off quickly, donning nothing but his still-soaking wet underwear. Vito left the bathroom and strolled towards his bed, a satisfied smirk across his handsome face. "Ugh, cazzo..." He once again cursed, exhausted but euphoric as he got under the sheets and closed his eyes. "I can't wait to just go home." Vito couldn't help but chuckle as he thought about how much fun he had in the shower. All of his body tingled with pride, and the damp briefs still clinging tightly to his waist beneath the covers made him a little pent up again - albeit not enough for a second round. With that, the celebrity's eyes finally shut and he drifted to sleep, where a pleasurable wet-dream already awaited him...

Part 1 is above. -- Part 2 “This was stupid.” Finn felt embarrassed sitting in the locker room, surrounded by guys all around who looked three times larger than him. He was 5’10” and comfortably skinny. Not bony. But his baggy old t-shirt, basketball shorts and posture betrayed the fact that he wasn’t much of an athlete at all. A good look in the mirror told him he was way out of his element, and that this wasn’t where he’s meant to be. Brian thought different. “Everyone starts somewhere,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his sculpted physique. Finn got red seeing his pecs bulging and his abs exposed with its pleasure trail leading downwards. He looked away as Brian pulled on a loose stringer over his body. “What sport did you play again?” Finn asked. “Basketball in college.” Brian kicked off his work pants and slipped on his gym shorts. “Also did a little bit of football in high school.” “Seems like everyone else’s story here.” Finn glanced around the locker room again, standing awkwardly. He couldn’t even believe he was here, and that Brian was here talking to him like they were talking for forever. “It literally looks like no one else is ‘starting somewhere.’” “Relax, dude. No one here’s gonna judge you. Besides, you’re an intern. I got you covered.” Brian threw the rest of his items in his locker, atop Finn’s stuff. “Random question, what’d you eat today?” “Just some cheese pizza from Napoli’s.” “Damn bro, that’s it?” Brian seemed shocked. He chuckled before he reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle. “Dude, drink this.” He tossed it to Finn, who miraculously managed to catch it. Finn inspected the bottle — it was another Gamma Labs drink, like the one he saw Brian drinking in the office, but this one was labeled ‘GAMMA UNLOCK PROTEIN SHAKE.’ Chocolate flavored. A crude faceless stock photo of a bodybuilder edited green was slapped on the side. “I just got a pack of this in the mail last night. I’ve never tried it before but I guess they just dropped it as part of a new line a couple weeks ago,” Brian explained. “I should’ve brought more than one.” “Thank you, but… Why are you giving it to me?” Finn inspected the bottle for a bit before a logo in the back caught his eye. “You need protein and energy. You can’t workout without either, and you got neither. It’s supposed to be some special formula that gives you both. I was gonna drink it but you need it a whole lot more than me.” Brian closed his locker before turning to see Finn still frozen looking at the bottle. “Come on, chug that shit so we can get this started!” Finn shook his head. “Yeah, for sure.” He twisted the cap off and started drinking it. The logo he saw — he wasn’t sure where he’d seen it but he swore he’d seen it before. But who it was… “You done?” Finn didn’t even realize he’d finished it so quickly. He pulled the bottle away from his mouth, quickly followed by a sudden burp. “...’scuse me.” After several minutes of Finn stalling, the two finally made their way out of the locker room. The gym wasn’t the largest in the world, but it definitely wasn’t just some small hole in the wall gym. Finn was astounded at how many machines were so tightly lined up on the floor, taking in the size of the huge mirror completely covering one wall. “I’ve never seen a mirror this big,” Finn said, bashfully following Brian walking through. He was wondering if the drink that Brian gave him had gone bad — his stomach began to hurt. “Yeah. That didn’t used to be there. It’s kind of a nice upgrade.” Finn was increasingly entranced by the whole gym floor, seeing everything through the mirror. However he was dismayed when he finally noticed the huge image reflected from the wall opposite to it. Finn turned to confirm — it was a huge painted mural of what looked to be some depiction of the Hulk (or “a” Hulk) curling a huge dumbbell in one hand and flexing his bicep on the opposite, all while stepping on a globe as if to show off his glutes and quads. Beside it were the words ‘Strength, Power, and Drive’ inscribed above an out-of-context quote from the late Bruce Banner: “Channel your rage and embrace the beast inside.” The mural was in his direct line of sight while they stretched. Finn just followed what he saw from Brian, stretching his arms, then his back, then his legs, then his sides. Each time Brian shifted a little off, Finn could see the painting, only compounding his questions and bringing him back to his assignment on the Green Wave. It was beginning to get distracting. “Don’t you think it’s weird how like… everyone’s treating the Hulk like some kind of fitness legend and model for men?” Finn stretched towards his toes once more. “He was a destroyer — even Dr. Banner said so — but fast forward two decades later and he’s the idol of every jock on the block.” Brian looked up and glanced behind him. “Talking about that shit on the wall, huh?” He turned back around and slowly got up. “The new owners put that one in there too. I used to think it was corny, but I’ve kinda warmed up to it.” Finn leaned forward to listen, loosening his stretches. “Bruce Banner had issues on his own. If he didn’t, you know it’d be different when he’d go Hulk mode. But imagine if some average dude like you or me could be like that.” Brian slowly loosened up his stretches. “Super strong, hella tough, running off all your rage but without losing control. No one would fuck with you. You’d be the biggest man in the room.” “Even with the green?” “I don’t know, but to be honest, the green’s lowkey the best part. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fuckin weird. But think about it, it’s like poison dart frogs. When people see you, they’ll know exactly what you are. It’s badass. I like badass.” Brian finally got up. “You ready to hit some weights?” Finn thought about it as he finally got up. “Yeah.” Brian’s explanation seemed so effortlessly simple. Like who wouldn’t want to be super strong? But what exactly did Brian mean when he said ‘exactly what you are’? They wasted no time heading to the dumbbell rack, right under the mural. The first exercise was bicep curls, which Brian tried to explain would be the easiest to test Finn’s strength. “Look, we can start you off at 10 pounds,” Brian said, settling into his fitness trainer tone of voice. “We’ll just work on form and making sure you get the motions right.” And on form they worked. Finn had never scrutinized himself in the mirror so harshly before, trying to imitate Brian’s movements so closely. But even when Brian was just trying to demonstrate what to do and what not to do, Finn had to bite his tongue. Brian used the same 10 pound weight as him in his demonstration, maneuvering it about effortlessly with little sway while Finn was flailing about and shaking, clearly unbalanced and not as strong. As soon as he’d be done, he’d switch over to his pair of 50 pound dumbbells. “And that’s 8 full reps.” Brian put down his weights. “How are you feeling?” Finn bent down to put his weights down as well. He was short on words as his muscles relaxed. “Fine,” he said. “Just fine? You feeling any burning, soreness, anything?” Brian asked. Much to Finn’s relief, Brian picked up Finn’s weights to return them to the rack. “I can feel my heart rate’s up,” Finn said. It wasn’t by much, but the feeling of the beating in his chest told him he was actually breaking a sweat. “I mean, I’m catching my breath over here.” “Well let’s see how you do with 15 pounds.” Brian walked back with a new pair of dumbbells, visibly larger than the last. Finn put his hands up. “I think I’m good with 10. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” “There’s that fear again,” Brian said, cracking a smile. “Trust me. You said you’re just feeling your heart rate up, but it didn’t look like you were feeling that much resistance. That’s just the warm up.” There was, again, no other excuse from Finn. He looked at Brian and sighed before reluctantly squatting down to pick up the dumbbells and — wow, that’s some actual resistance. The additional weight, though small, only further illuminated Finn’s lack of strength. Where before, Finn looked clumsy just because of his poor form and lack of experience, you could now actually see the effort he was putting in as his muscles began to start working. He was embarrassed, feeling the fibers in his biceps wake up and come alive, an unfamiliar burning beginning to set in. He was scared. A voice in the back of his head told him to just keep pushing. Strong. Forceful. Commanding. “There we go,” Brian said, watching Finn test himself even more. “I bet now you’re feeling it. That’s that lactic acid doing its work.” “Yeah, I’m feeling something for sure,” Finn said a bit sarcastically, getting more irritated than comforted by Brian’s voice. Did he detect condescension? That voice at the back of his head once again spoke up, quick to anger, noting Brian was beginning to piss him off. And in the middle of him struggling, but for some reason actually trying, he wasn’t interested in Brian’s patronizing attitude. On the third rep, Finn was feeling good. Keeping pace with Brian. This was feeling easier. Finn wore a fierce expression on his face that he’d never had before, locking eyes with himself in the mirror. The burning he felt was quickly subsiding as his back straightened and his shoulders looked more taut and controlled as he rolled them backwards. A tingling sensation instead arose at the back of his head and in his muscles. “You’re actually hitting those reps perfectly,” Brian said. Even he looked a bit confused. “Fuck yeah I am.” A certain confidence oozed from Finn’s words. Something had clicked as he took another breath in, pushing his chest out and leaning just slightly forward. His brain’s synapses were firing off as they quickly wrote something new into his muscle memory, making him look like a natural master at form. Confidence in the gym was not something he thought he’d see today. The large mural looming large behind him as he looked at his reflection only added to him suddenly feeling like he was on top of the world. The voice in the back of his head called out to him again. Telling him that this was what he’d been missing his whole life — discipline, training, the feeling of power in his body. It felt almost like the devil whispering things in his ear to tempt him. If so, the devil’s suggestions were innocent enough; just add another 5 pounds. And then another. He’d completed two sets at 25 pounds in each hand when the fatigue was finally setting in. Finn set the dumbbells down, sweat dripping down his arms and chest. “That… that felt good.” He felt like he was clawing back to a more conscious reality, a strangely dazed look in his eyes. Finn had felt the high of good exercise before, especially after his long runs. But this… Something was different about this. He felt different. “Hell yeah, bro,” Brian said, clapping his hand against Finn’s back. “You picked up the intensity way faster than I ever did. No offense dude, but you were looking like someone who could only lift 10s. Are you sure you’re a beginner?” “I’ve only been a runner. I’m serious when I say I’ve never touched a weight before in my life.” Finn picked up his water bottle as the tingling sensation subsided. He half expected his arms to feel like pure jelly, like other people in his life experienced when they started working out. Instead, he just felt stronger. Better. Bigger. If either of them had paid closer attention, they would’ve noticed Finn’s eyes flash green for just a moment, and Finn would’ve noticed his shirt was a little tighter than before. — Sprawled out on the couch of his living room was Finn, feeling himself sink into the cushions. He was back home earlier than he’s ever been all summer, but he felt like he had his longest day yet. He would ordinarily rush to describe it as weird, with such an unorthodox schedule. Finn felt outside of himself, doing things so different from what he’d imagined the day would let him do. In reality, it would be an otherwise ordinary day. The morning was just a little rough. And him going home early was unusual. Even in spite of the weird strength discovery, his first time at the gym was decidedly mundane. The only thing he couldn’t explain was this shift he could feel within himself. Something about the idea of becoming like the mindless meatheads in the gym terrified him, but the relief and satisfaction he felt only served as justification for their devotion. He laid there, his damp shirt stuck to his chest, feeling the sheen of dried sweat sticking his fluffy hair to his forehead and temples. He was… exhilarated. For the longest time, he’d denied any inkling of interest in the gym. Now, he couldn’t wait to go back. Finn absentmindedly scratched his crotch, trying to adjust himself towards more comfort. As he did, stretching his arms up, the smell of his pits hit his nose. A combination of his more subtle fragrance, deodorant, and the strong smell of a man’s sweat. His nose scrunched up and he immediately got up. He didn’t even know his body could smell like that. He needed to shower. A buzzing sound reverberated in his bag as he dragged it to his bathroom. Eager to end the vibrations, Finn dug into his bag and pulled out his phone, seeing a notification from Brian. Brian: Hey can you check if one of my shirts in your bag Brian: Cant find it Finn’s thick brows furrowed before he turned on his phone’s light to illuminate the contents of his bag. He stuck his hand inside and, lo and behold, out came a white shirt damper than his own, it’s sleeves cut off smelling much stronger than any of his own stuff, adorned with the three Greek-letter logo of a fraternity. On the tag inside was Brian’s name. Finn tried to hold his breath, as to not be attacked by the strong musky scent that infected his bag. He snapped a pic and sent it to Brian. Finn: found it i think Finn: [Sent 1 image] He went ahead to turn on the shower and open the window before he finally took a breath — just to realize his precautions did nothing to lessen what was emanating. A strong cologne and the remnants of crude body spray, all mixed with the thick scent of a man, stronger than what Finn thought was offensive coming from his own body. Idling holding it while trying to decide whether he’d rather stick this in a bag in the kitchen now or after his shower, the smell continued to flood his senses. Finn had always hated how gross it seemed, going around dressed in fragrances that barely masked the workout a guy had just completed. Yet as he held the shirt in his hand, feeling the steam of the shower fill the room, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to it. Brian: Thanks sorry if it smells, that’s my usual workout shirt Brian: Can you bring it to work tomorrow lol Finn imagined him wearing it, slipping on a remnant from his time in his fraternity, working up a sweat in the gym, just like he’d seen him today. His muscles rippling and bulging with each rep, coated in sweat and reflecting the harsh white overhead lights. His labor in the gym fueling his gradual transformation towards something bigger. Just like the Hulk, laid out on the wall behind him. Was he really horny thinking about this? His chest started to pound as an uncomfortable stiffening took place between his legs. His mind raced as the image of Brian standing tall, intently staring into his own eyes in the gym’s large mirror, watching his sweat stain his shirt, getting tighter around his muscles every day. “Shit.” Finn felt distracted from his original task at hand. He began to fondle himself through his basketball shorts, eventually settling into a gentle rubbing and stroking of his newly erect cock. As if it had a mind of its own, acting on wants that Finn never knew he had, his hand brought the shirt to his face for him to fully inhale Brian’s masculine scent. He quickly dropped his shorts to the ground, sitting on the top of his toilet’s seat. As his eyes closed, fully indulging in the idea of Brian turning into some warped version of himself, muscles instantly inflating into hard boulders around his body, his eyes going green before his skin does, mimicking the transformation of the late superhero. Finn softly moaned, his dick lurching forward at the thought. He reminded himself of what Brian had been saying at the start of their workout, talking about how he wouldn’t mind being a Hulk. A memory of a decades-old clip of Dr. Banner hulking out in a documentary, showing off his monstrous, powerful physique played in his head, slowly morphing into Brian going through the same thing. He thought about Brian wearing this shirt and ripping out of it, a green-skinned chest pushing out between the shreds of the shirt. Dropping the weights in his hand and standing over him, flexing biceps. “You wish you were half the man I was, don’tcha, bitch?” A voice called out. But it wasn’t quite Brian’s voice, it was… The pace of Finn’s stroking quickened as he took another deep breath, Brian’s shirt so intoxicating and mind numbing at that point that Finn couldn’t help but push himself deeper. He imagined Brian’s taking on a more brutish personality, a combination of the meathead stereotype in his head and the masculine personas he’d encountered in his research into the Green Wave. He could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to stop. He imagined Brian being a total dumb show off, ready to prove his superiority and masculinity at a moment’s whim. He’d denied it for so long, but he now he couldn’t — guys were hotter like that. He felt himself slowly get closer and closer to climax, with everything flashing in his head all at once. A part of himself asked why he was so worked up — did he want Brian or did he want to BE Brian? Any interrogation was quashed by his desperate sniffs in between his tugs, his brain desperately trying to sustain the image of Brian turned into a gamma-powered brute. Unable to control himself, he dropped Brian’s shirt as well. He began to whisper to himself, talking to himself in a way he’s never done before. “Fuck… Fuck yeah… Lose control… Hulk out… You know you want to…” His conversation with his friend the other day popped up in his head. He thought about how uncertain and weirded out he was by his friend’s sudden conversion, but at least at this moment the appeal was apparent. The words he was whispering — he wasn’t sure if they were meant for Brian or himself. That uncertainty is what led to the image of a Hulked out Brian to falter in his head, slowly losing it, cycling through, before it became clearer once again, Finn trying to make the image clearer in his head, trying to make out who owned those boulder shoulders and abs, the thick green neck, the trail leading to his dick, that messy short black hair, those eyes, it was him, Finn hulked out, he looked fucking amazing hulked out, he was— “Ungggh -” A deep moan left his lips as he shot a load up onto his shirt before he pumped himself all over the bathroom floor. It felt like a part of his soul went as he did, his brain short circuiting for a moment as pure pleasure overtook him, the gratification unlike anything he’s ever induced in himself and more primal than he’d ever felt in himself. Finn sat there, slouched over, trying to support himself, shaking. He was shuddering trying to catch his breath, each one deeper than the other. He gently licked the cum on his fingers in his haze as the orgasm’s euphoria slowly subsided. It was a slow fall back to earth as he realized the shower was still running. He blinked and shook his head. Clarity hit him and he realized the full extent of what he’d done — he’d just jerked himself off to his coworker’s sweaty shirt. And over what — him turning into the Hulk? Finn felt conflicted and upset as he realized how strange he was being today. He would’ve never done something like this before. A voice in the back of his head told him it was just that his testosterone was up because of his workout. Testosterone’s a bitch. Finn looked over to his phone, contemplating the sound of the water running from the showerhead. Brian’s messages were still open, awaiting a response. — Finn took a very long time in the shower, standing for several long minutes taking in the heat of the water. After, he got dinner: his usual spicy tofu dish and fresh greens from the Chinese place around the corner — with a twist: to satisfy his insatiable hunger that day, drained from the workout, he got an extra serving of orange chicken. After such a long, unconventional day, there was nothing that better suited him than spending the last hours of the day in bed, half under a blanket under a fan set to the highest setting. He plugged his phone in and pulled up TikKot in an attempt to just take his mind off of… everything. A collection of social satire, bite-sized explainers, and media commentary was right at his fingertips once again, populating his endless feed. It worked to entertain him for a short while, but there was something missing. There was something gnawing at him on the inside. As if the phone could read his mind, Finn’s next swipe revealed a video of a guy showcasing his progress. Crudely cut together were a couple videos of him just a year ago, looking just as weak and scrawny as he currently did. The music suddenly dropped into a bass-y breakdown, and the video transitioned to a few clips of the same guy, looking three times bigger than he did before, bulging with muscle and a tame imitation of the Hulk’s anger and drive in his eyes. In the caption explaining his transformation were the tags #hulkout and #greenwave. Finn did a double take, checking which account he was on. Sure enough, he was on his own personal account. Did he accidentally try to dig into the Green Wave with his main profile? For some reason he didn’t really mind it. It changed things up, which was very nice. As his concern and panic melted away he scrolled on, his mind lingering on that guy’s Green Wave-motivated change and bravado as he watched short videos of cats. It didn’t take long before he encountered another outlier on his feed. It was a podcast clip, with just three guys sitting around the table on an elaborately decorated set, behind expensive looking microphones. They looked a bit familiar, but Finn couldn’t help but feel immediately glued to the screen. Something about how the guys looked and how they talked just commanded his attention, making him invested in what they had to say. They all looked around the same level as each other but one of them, maybe 5 years older than Finn at most, was positioned across from the other two, framing him as the host of the show. His short blond army crew cut hair, clean five o’clock shadow, and thick neck gave him a classically rugged masculine look. “You know why we always bring up the Hulk as a model on this podcast? It’s not just because he’s a badass fuckin beast,” he said, sounding vaguely familiar to Finn’s ears. “For people that have just found this podcast, you know we all keep saying that we all need to embrace the Hulk inside, to take up the mantle of Hulkhood, but you probably are missing some of the context that defined this podcast at the beginning.” Finn looked to check who this was — it was the Intelligencia Pod from this morning! His first instinct upon this realization was to scroll again, but the next guy spoke and Finn couldn’t help but continue watching. The next speaker looked like he was more around Finn’s age. His black hair was matted by a backwards cap, his skin had a subtle tan, and his sleeveless shirt revealed a not-as-large but still impressive physique. “The obvious one is the physical part. You gotta want to be better. That means getting bigger and stronger, and being able to prove it. You look at the Hulk, you look at Banner — Banner is where we start off at the beginning of our Hulk journey, but Hulk? Hulk is what we wanna be. No, it’s what we are MEANT to be. Strong as hell, being able to take lead. Nobody wants their friend, their brother, their partner to be fuckin weak,” he said. Finn recoiled at his first instinct. It sounded toxic as hell, the same kind of toxicity he’s spent half his life rebelling against and the full duration of his internship trying to strategize against. The false equivalency between absolute strength and absolute weakness. All echoed effortlessly and casually by some random dude on this podcast for any guy to pick up. Yet that voice at the back of his head echoed it as well, planting the seed of doubt in his own convictions. Did he really want to be weaker than the rest of the pack? “The rage. The anger. Most men these days have it bubbling inside, but they don’t know where to put it. Where to let it out,” the guy said. “The Hulk had it down, he channeled that rage into his power. That’s better than the average human, who lets it eat it up. Nah, Hulkhood is about owning your anger and harnessing it. Letting it become your mode of control.” The historical revisionism of their characterization of the Hulk was astounding. Dr. Banner would’ve condemned this for sure. The idea of rage being your default state seemed a bit terrifying, as the Hulk’s early incidents would reveal. Part of Finn wanted to write an angry comment about how dangerous this was — another part of him wanted to let out that anger otherwise. As Finn continued to listen, it sounded like there was a weird overlay in the audio. The audio anomaly was distracting, but Finn couldn’t make out exactly what the sound was. It sounded almost like words being whispered, but tucked far enough to the back that he couldn’t fully make out what they were saying. “The psychological aspect is huge,” the older host said. “The Hulk represents being unchained from society’s standards. Their trends. Their wants. He represents letting out what’s inside and truly becoming who you’re meant to be. And most men, especially the ones listening, are meant to be more than they can imagine themselves to be. Do you want to be like the average joe on the block? Or do you want to join the lineage of men reclaiming the power they have inside?” Finn was getting a headache watching the clip. Not just from the rhetoric, which he found abhorrent and antithetical to his own values. What he didn’t realize was that there was a subtle, weird pattern periodically overlaid upon the video, words flashing, invisible to the naked eye but pronounced to be picked up by the subconscious. The third guy in the podcast spoke. His light blond hair was separated with a middle part, the sides shaved tight. “I know when Mark first tried to get me onto the Green Wave, I was skeptical. It just didn’t seem like it was meant for someone like me,” he said, gesturing to the other younger speaker beside him. “But the more I dove into it, the more I found myself in it,” he continued. “Mark sent me episodes of this podcast — your podcast — and I realized how much I resonated with it. You don’t realize the confidence you feel, you almost feel, like, superior. That Hulk mentality changes you. It makes you tough. It makes you fear your own strength. I like it.” Finn didn’t know why he decided to watch through the whole thing, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to leave a comment, but instead decided not to feed the trolls. He just scrolled away, their words weighing heavy in his mind. However, the next video was even more strange in both its sheer appearance and its place on Finn’s feed, although more mundane. The video started off with the sound of a man yelling “HEY BRO,” vaguely sounding like the voice of Mark from the previous video, before white noise completely took over. The video playing looked like pure static. Finn was ready to just scroll away when he noticed the caption was only the tag #greenwave, and that the video’s view and like numbers were rising by the second. What was this? A teaser video? Promotion for something? Finn pulled up the comments, hoping to gain some insight. Unfortunately, the comments were just as confused as he was, with about half questioning what the point of the video was, a quarter being Green Wave acolytes repeating the same faux “self improvement” rhetoric, and the remaining encouraging readers to watch the video through to the end. So Finn did just that. Trying to combat that headache and the weird tingling that returned to the back of his head, he laid there, staring at the static. His screen would flash green periodically, but he just chalked that up to a glitch in the app, as it always was. It wasn’t long before his eyes slowly closed as the video’s white noise and its contents filled his ears for yet another night. ---------- Click to read Part 3 >>

Summary: A level headed and principled intern at a think tank, is tasked with researching the so-called “Green Wave,” a new movement sweeping the nation’s male youth tangentially inspired by the superhero alter-ego of the late Dr. Bruce Banner. As this intern falls deeper into the rabbit hole, he finds out more than he expected and finds himself questioning his direction. Loosely inspired by She-Hulk: Attorney at Law (2022) season 1 Disclaimer: The Hulk is a copyright of Marvel. I do not claim ownership. Warning: Political themes, toxic masculinity (?) Thank you to @czechhunter69 for feedback. This is a very plot-heavy story, so if you want a deeper story and not just a cum-and-go story, you’re in the right place. Originally written to be a one-shot, but split into parts for easy reading. THERE WILL BE FOUR PARTS TO THIS! ---------- Author’s Note: I was watching She-Hulk again with a friend, and while it’s not Marvel’s best work, the plotline involving Intelligencia had some potential. I have an idea for a line of stories based on it, starting with this one. Whether they all get written, who knows - but at least we have this one. And I know it takes place 4 decades in the future with all the contemporary slang, websites, and archetypes of today, but bear with me. Also, this is loosely in the MCU, but it doesn’t focus on any superheroes or pre-existing characters too much (other than the Hulk of course), only using it as a backdrop. Be aware that this has some darker implications and explorations of masculinity mixed into the muscle growth, so if you’re not into the parallels I’m drawing to real life, this might not be for you. Maybe consider this a bit of a cautionary tale about looking out for what your friends are looking at online. Please note that this first part does not have ANY muscle growth — but still please read for the story! I promise the next parts will be much more spicy. ---------- Part 1 2064. “Morning Finn. Got a new assignment for you.” Peeking from behind the large monitor, the intern’s brown eyes locked onto the packet of documents dropped onto his desk. Without missing a beat, he picked it up and opened it, reading through the organization’s briefing. Sometimes he felt like he was a CIA agent planning a psyop, not a political science student working at one of the most guarded think tanks in the nation. Each topic and area of research was treated as a “case” — not just a study, but an actual investigative case to close. Case in point, the documents detailed a small, but steadily rising movement among his peers. “Good morning to you, Marty...” Finn’s voice had a deep but raspy tone, almost sounding as if he struggled to keep it at that pitch even at his soft-spoken, almost whispery volume. He swept his dark brown short shaggy hair out of his face as he continued. “What is this? ‘The Green Wave, popular with Gen Gamma males aged 18-25.’ It just reads like another dumb trend for immature guys.” “Read more,” the middle aged man pulled a seat in front of Finn. Finn glanced up before continuing. “‘Idolizing volatile fitness personalities, feeding off a culture that borderline fetishizes strength and power, and inspired by the late legendary superhero Bruce Banner, Gen Gamma swept up by the Green Wave are redefining what masculinity means for them by reinforcing what they know. They’re projected to have a devastating psychological and political impact on the demographic.” Finn paused before recalling some of his friends who’ve been acting different over the past few months, wondering if this had something to do with it. “Interesting,” he ended simply. “Your goal is to study them,” Marty said. He reclined a lil bit in the chair. “I want you to figure out how they appear. How guys your age get pulled in. What methods they use. What makes them tick. What changes in all these guys. We figured since you’re in Gen Gamma it would be easiest for you to understand them in context.” “Just study them?” “We want to see if they’re doing anything different that we could use for our own campaigns. Election season’s coming up and our client wants some data on what’s happening here, and maybe we could even intervene. Think you can do that?” Finn looked through the rest of the packet. Some lists of hashtags, accounts, ideas, and people apart of this movement. It seemed… A little unrefined, but workable. Though Finn thought that ‘intervention’ was not exactly the direction he cared about. “Yeah I can do it,” he said. “What’s the deadline for the first round of info briefs?” “End of week.” Marty sprung out of his chair and headed towards the door. “Ping me if you got any questions.” — Finn spent the first half of the day finishing up his last reports before transitioning to working on the Green Wave assignment. And he wished he wasted another hour before jumping in. As expected, the scene was very… Male. It was a bunch of amateur bodybuilder bros drunk on their own manufactured sense of masculinity. They were pretty much exactly what you’d think. A lil dumb, a lil vain, definitely cocky, and one-track-minded on reaching ‘Hulkhood’ — whatever that means. Corny naming aside, it definitely looked like their model and template was this bastardized idea of the Hulk — this toxic, inhuman, ultra strong, gamma green image of being a man without any of the Banner. Finn just shook his head the whole time. If any of the Avengers were still alive to see what people did to his image, they’d all condemn the glorification of the Hulk. But their naming just made it obvious they just didn’t get that. Maybe Finn was just too pretentious to handle the mindless and uneducated droning of these guys. But that was just the surface. Finn barely knew what else laid underneath the surface, given that these were just the most popular creators. As far as he could tell, it really was just another stupid aesthetic latched onto gym bro culture. But there had to be something else. The comments on some of these reposts on Britter alone were enough of an indicator that this had to be a whole other corner of the internet that he just has never interacted with. Not wanting the algorithms to mess with his carefully curated timelines, Finn made a new account on each of the major platforms. He immediately followed different accounts — the big ones listed on the brief he was given, other big accounts that seem only tangentially related to the Green Wave, and a few random guys his age who follow Green Wave guys and seem to be posting a lot. It’s time to research. — The rest of the day was slow. Finn felt like he was losing brain cells every time he scrolled to another Green Wave video on TikKot. They all started the same: some kind of hook focused on the guy trying to gas himself up for being ripped, then some faux-deep talk about “finding your inner Hulk,” then some workout tips, then an edit of their latest workout set to whatever trending song seemed most “hard” at the moment. He just didn’t get it, it seemed like generic gym motivation content. Two months into this internship season, and this might be the most nothingburger case he’s handled. How could this be politically relevant? Going home was his respite. Thankfully his internship paid for his rent for the duration of the internship, letting him live in a nice apartment for the summer. He just has to keep the internship, which should be no problem. He’d never say it outright, but Finn knew he was dedicated and smart. That’s why he was the only intern they recruited for three seasons at a row at this point. Changing the world for the better by understanding, was what he said in his interview. Bridging divides and making connections. Solving the social issues of our time. Creating acceptance and good for the world that would transform the headlines in the news into positive ones. But increasingly discouraged by the lack of change despite his efforts, the news never changed. Even as Finn turned on the TV and switched it to the news channel, he was feeling like it might be a lil futile. What good was this data? He knew where he stood, but he wondered if it was a combination of boredom and frustration that influenced his growing apathy towards change. “We’re coming to you live from the city,” the news anchor announced. “Today we are doing a deep dive on the so-called ‘Green Wave.’ Could it impact the future of Gen Gamma? Or will it end up be—” Finn groaned and shut the TV off. Even at home he couldn’t escape his work. However he knew the news was clearly overreacting as always, sensationalizing something that would turn out to be an unpopular, fringe online community. As he idly thought about what he should get for dinner, he scrolled through Extergram, trying to see if his friends were doing anything. He had a dry feed and instead went to check his own profile, looking over his old memories and pictures with friends. He should check in on a couple of them. Finn took no time in video calling Tyler. He picked up immediately, his face popping up and his voice, a bit deeper and more monotone than Finn remembered, boomed through his phone’s speakers. “Heeeyy, it’s been forever! What’s up, man?” His voice had a weirdly familiar inflection that was definitely different from how he talked before, but Finn wasn’t entirely sure where to place it. But Finn’s attention was directed elsewhere. Absent in the frame of the video feed was Tyler’s shoulders, which were pushed out of sight but framed his newly slightly muscled frame, covered only by a loose shirt with its sleeves and sides cut out, showcasing the edges of his lats and pecs. Finn couldn’t believe it — Tyler had gone through a crazy transformation, looking less like the scrawny nerd he left him and more like the athlete his father wished he’d been. What happened to him since Finn had left for the internship just two months ago? “Helllooo. Shit, am I lagging or something?” Finn shook his head as he pulled himself out of his thoughts. “I’m here! I’m here,” Finn said, trying to take in the sight. He could barely articulate, being distracted at what his friend had become. “Hi. Sorry I’ve been so busy; I was bored since I finally had some time to kill and thought I’d call. I’d ask how you are, but you look like you’ve been doing… good. Real good.” Cutting through Finn’s awkward chuckle, a grin stretched across Tyler’s face. “Oh man, you mean this?” The camera got tilted to the right as Tyler’s arm flung up into a flexing pose, a prominent bicep peak straining against his skin as veins bulged around. His face came back into view as he relaxed his arm, an irritating cocky expression on his face. “Phew. Yeah, I kinda started hitting the gym while you were doing your thing in the big city.” His words carried an uncharacteristically brash energy. Finn’s jaw almost dropped at the sight. Where the hell did this come from? Despite the weird shift in his attitude, Finn had to admit Tyler was looking good. “Damn. Did your dad finally get to you?” Tyler laughed. “Not exactly. I just decided to stop being a bitch and start getting tough.” The expression on Finn’s face shifted a little, his brow slowly raising with his smile not as strong. “You know you could’ve just said you wanted to get stronger.” Finn was not amused. “Hey, it’s just a joke,” Tyler said playfully. “No yeah, that’s the one. I mean, there were like a bunch of reasons though, like I got a job at the gym and I kinda got swept up in…” “...The ‘Green Wave’?” Tyler’s eyes widened before he brought the camera closer to his face, looking around before speaking again, as if he wasn’t home alone at this time of day. “Yooo…” His voice was lower, like he was trying not to let anyone else hear. “You’re in that too? You gonna go full Gamma, bro?” He was talking like Finn knew what he was talking about. The look in Tyler’s eyes made it look like he was begging for validation, hoping that Finn was one of “them.” Who “them” was exactly was still unknown to Finn, but his catch-up call was turning out more relevant than he realized it would be. “I… I just heard about it a couple days ago,” Finn lied, trying to maintain a cool tone and contain his immediate urge to go on with a barrage of questions. “I think I wanna look more into it but don’t know much… But it sounds like you know more than me.” “Nah, I don’t know much,” Tyler said, relaxing a little bit. “I just got into it a few months ago. I’m just hyped I finally met someone else who can understand my Hulkhood journey, bro.” “A few months ago?” Ignoring the weird terminology popping up again, Finn tried to chart out the timeline. This meant that he must’ve gotten hooked… “Like a little before you left, I started getting Green Wave stuff on my TikKot and Britter feeds. I thought it was a bunch of bullshit, so I used to just scroll past it as soon as I could recognize what it was…” Tyler shook his head and grinned, as if he was recalling naivete. “Just a few days after you left for the big city, my feeds were completely swamped with the Green Wave. I tried avoiding social media for a couple days but I decided I should just check some of these people out. Understand what they’re saying so I knew what I was up against.” Finn interjected. “But it didn’t turn out that way.” “Nah, bro. I finally sat down and scrolled through. At first it was just dumb, filler shit. Then I started seeing more and I started understanding… Even though I hated them at the beginning, I just realized I didn’t fully disagree with them. Then I realized they kinda opened my eyes in a different way. Like fuck, they’re right, there’s a Hulk inside me waiting to be unleashed…” Finn shifted uncomfortably as he saw Tyler stare off into the distance, biting his lip, his arm moving in a way that suggested him adjusting a half-hard dick. (Or was that just Finn’s imagination?) “Remember how I got hired at the gym and they never gave me a schedule? I guess I was a seasonal hire and didn’t realize it, ‘cause the next week they finally had me working in the gym. And that’s also when I actually started working out too. By Wednesday I’d woken up to the sound of my Gamma Protein being delivered to my door.” “That’s a fast change.” “That’s what my dad said.” A smirk came across Tyler’s face. “Imagine the look on his face when he saw me walking in and finally noticing the gains. The growth. I told him I was serious about this shit. He sent me some Green Wave videos he didn’t even realize was Green Wave stuff, which just cemented this shit for me even more. We started bonding again, to be honest. Bro, he ordered me a tub of the Gamma Labs protein powder, and it came in yesterday.” “That’s it?” Finn tried to imagine himself witnessing the changes in real time, but it all still seemed a bit too unrealistic. Too drastic. Tyler nodded. “Look, I don’t give a fuck what everyone else says, bro. They’re just haters. They just don’t understand what it feels to finally be free and know it.” Finn grimaced at the wording. “You make it sound almost like a cult.” “It’s not, I swear! It’s just opened my eyes, a little, you know?” “What is it, then? Like what exactly is the Green Wave?” “It’s just…” “Just what?” “I don’t know how to explain it, bro.” “Well try! How can you not explain it after 3 months?” Finn’s neutral, friendly tone broke for a moment, sounding more forceful and irritated. Tyler just chuckled before taking a hard look at Finn, almost studying him. “Look man, if you’re that curious, you gotta check it out yourself. I think you’ll resonate with it, bro.” Finn could’ve sworn Tyler’s brown eyes looked a lil green as the light hit them. He blinked, and the green was gone. After the call, Finn got dinner: some spicy tofu dish and fresh greens from the Chinese place around the corner. The whole time, Finn couldn’t stop thinking about his chat with Tyler. It just seemed a little strange that Tyler had slipped into it and changed so quickly. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to get sucked in just by watching some random videos online. That’s not to say that Tyler didn’t seem happy or like he was taking care of himself, it’s just… A weird shift. He was missing something. When he went to bed that night, it weighed on his mind. This didn’t seem very interesting at first, but seeing Tyler talk and carry himself the way he did seemed a little sobering. He did want to understand. As he laid there, earbuds in, he decided to do a deep dive once again. He pulled up his burner account on TikKot once again, hoping that maybe a couple more scrolls could illuminate his friend’s motivations now. Instead, Finn was disappointed to find that his new scrolls weren’t bringing up anything new — just the same kind of generic motivation edits and short videos of people trying to show off their progress in the gym. There was nothing new. Nothing interesting. Nothing provocative. And so he eventually slipped into his sleep. It was too boring. With his earbuds still inside, the noise of his feed continued to fill his ears, dumping its cacophony unprocessed. Words whispered into his ears began to sound like Tyler’s voice, echoing what he said before: “a Hulk inside waiting to be unleashed…” — “GET THE FUCK OFF YOUR ASS AND START MOVING, LITTLE BITCH.” The loud, bass-y voice suddenly blared in his ears, startling him out of a deep sleep and back to consciousness. Finn nearly had a heart attack. He immediately pulled his earbuds out and threw them across his bed. Palming and massaging his face with both hands, trying to rouse himself awake, he struggled to reorient himself. He felt well rested yet restless. Looking down, feeling a dampness around his neck and chest, he was shocked to see his shirt was actually drenched, as if he’d run a marathon in his sleep. And at the back of his head, a hazy, tingly sensation as he tried to shake the ‘sleep’ off. Feeling around his bed, he finally picked up his concerningly warm phone, playing a short clip from some podcast on TikKot. Then he looked down at the caption — tagged with #greenwave — and username behind the clip — “Intelligencia Pod”. He didn’t see this account yesterday despite his diligent searching and decided to screenshot it for his later reference. “Geez, I must have left it on auto-scroll all night…” Finn muttered. Then he looked to see his phone’s battery — at an abysmal 11% — and the time, evoking a horrendous horror — “Holy fuck, I’m already 6 minutes late?” Finn rushed to beat the clock. He typically had a whole morning routine and never missed it. Now, he had to skip it, instead rushing to brush his teeth and wash his face, foregoing the shower in favor of cologne and body spray he never even knew he had, and quickly throwing on the first clothes he could find before making his way to the office. What he didn’t notice as he rushed in the bathroom, was his phone, still open to TikKot, scrolling on automatic once again, passing a few seemingly ordinary clips. Maybe if Finn had lingered a while longer he would’ve noticed words flashing on the screen, with binaural beats and subliminals pulsating through the speakers. — Today was going to be a long day. “Are you okay, Finn?” He looked up to see Marty, his mentor popping by his desk for the fourth time that day. Finn tried to dust himself off, an attempt to make himself look more presentable in spite of his disheveled experience. “Yeah, yeah, I’m great. Why?” “Just checking,” Marty said. “You just came in late, looking a lil rough this morning. I’d never seen you show up like that.” “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh… Just overslept my alarms a little bit. I really am fine, though.” “Really?” It was true. Despite his bad start to the day, Finn was strangely feeling more energetic and eager to seize the day. He hadn’t felt this motivated in months. The only issue was that with the energy seemed to be a lack of focus. He was getting distracted from his work, his mind and fingers always making their way to TikKot on his phone before he stopped himself. Marty gave Finn a long hard look before he sighed. “You know what? Take the afternoon off.” Finn’s head snapped over. “Take the afternoon off?” “You’re one of the best interns this firm has ever had, and the longest one we’ve ever retained. It’s beyond worrying to see a bright star like you so off your game today.” “But I need the hours! Seriously, I’m fine,” Finn protested. “I can clean myself up for the rest of the day. I need to be here.” Marty shook his head. “You can stay til lunch, but I want you to rest. Don’t worry about your hours — consider it a fully paid half day. You deserve a break, kid.” With the rest of his day cleared, Finn was left with nothing to do. It was only at this point he’d started to realize that his life was empty; his weekday cycle was just waking up, working, eating, then sleeping. He hadn’t a clue of what to do til he stepped into the breakroom. He was idly pacing around the room as he contemplated grabbing one of the donuts left out by one of his coworkers when he jumped at the sound of the door creaking open. In a panic, he scrambled to look like he was in the middle of some meaningful action, maybe about to grab a donut, before he saw who was at the door. Walking in was a guy not much older than Finn, standing much taller than him at 6’2”, his dark sandy blond hair cut to a short cropped undercut, his cool gray eyes wandering around the room before settling on Finn. His stoic expression shifted to accommodate a slight grin as he nodded to the intern. His plain office-appropriate shirt and tie did little to conceal the young man’s physique, only sparing spectators the details of the precise angles of his muscle insertions while betraying the shape and density of his muscles. “‘Sup, Finn,” he said plainly. “Hi Brian,” Finn muttered. Brian had been brought on as the firm’s newest junior associate just as the internship season had picked up, hired straight out of college somewhere in South Carolina. Finn hadn’t paid him much mind at all, barely prodding anyone with questions and never questioning how little the two crossed paths, if they’d even see each other. He wasn’t one for stereotypes, but Finn just thought Brian had that look to him that said they wouldn’t quite… align, so to speak. Brian looked like the type of guy that would be on the other side of his issues. Coupled with his apparent lack of enthusiasm for progress and his masculine bravado, Finn just steered away. He wasn’t his kind of crowd. But today, Finn was ogling him. He felt drawn to him. “So, uh… You’re grabbing a donut, huh?” “Nah.” Brian walked past him to the office fridge and opening it. “Just getting some protein in.” He reached in and pulled out a bottle of Gamma Labs Mass Milk, with its unassuming white packaging and a deep green cap. “Right.” Finn sheepishly withdrew his hand, as if not to let his habits offend the gymgoer in the room. A distinct snap sounded through the room as Brian quickly and forcefully opened the bottle. “So you taking an early lunch?” Finn shook his head and lightly chuckled. “No, I… Well, Marty let me take the rest of the day off. I’m just hanging out in here before I go.” He shuffled to the side, allowing a clear path from Brian to the door. “Oh! Sweet,” Brian said simply. Finn was waiting for him to leave, but the tall associate instead pulled a chair beside him, angling it towards Finn before sitting in it. His legs were spread casually, his left elbow resting on the table looking up at Finn. It felt like Brian was fucking with him honestly, but Finn was feeling confused more than anything. Why is this guy entertaining a conversation with him? Brian took a gulp of milk, a loud ‘glug’ sound unnerving Finn. “So what’s your plan for the rest of the day?” “I don’t know. I don’t really do much since the internship usually takes up so much time…” Finn felt so awkward talking. Even as he did, his eyes were glued to Brian setting the milk bottle down as he tilted his thick neck, stretching it and showing off the striations of his subtle traps — then lifting an arm to scratch the back of his head, as his white shirt slightly tightened around his biceps and shoulders before he relaxed. “Really?” Brian leaned forward, letting Finn take in the broadness and width of his shoulders and the way his shirt hugged his chest. “You look like you’d have a lot of hobbies. I thought a guy like you would be like… a painter or some shit.” The mild stereotyping would’ve ordinarily annoyed Finn, but he had no place to talk since he categorized Brian as one of those entitled jock types. “Well I used to skate, but I…” Finn watched the slight flex of Brian’s bicep as he went to take another gulp of his milk. He hated that he was noticing all of this right now, but with Brian just there in his sight, he just couldn’t help but notice. He ended up wondering if… “I… gotta hit the gym.” “Huh.” Brian’s eyes lit up at Finn’s words, and he stopped himself from taking another sip. He looked Finn up and down, almost studying him. “I never took you for someone who lifts. That sleeper build must be fucking crazy, dude.” It took a moment for Finn to fully process what Brian was implying before he exclaimed, “No, no, no. I mean like... I’m interested in maybe starting to hit the gym. Not that it’s on my schedule. It’s just been on his mind, like maybe I should start going…” Finn’s brown eyes were wide as he talked. He honestly didn’t know what he was talking about himself — what he was saying was a total fabrication just to make himself seem relatable or on the same level. But he’s usually not afraid to say it: that’s not his crowd. “That’s what’s up,” Brian affirmed, his voice taking on a more casual and irritatingly familiar fratty cadence. He kept his eyes locked on Finn, looking him up and down before speaking again. “Hey, uh. I’m gonna be off in a couple hours actually. If you’re down for it, you could come to my gym.” Panic. “No, it’s okay,” Finn said quickly. “I’m heading home after this, I’m down by 87th and 52nd…” “That’s perfect!” Brian’s eyes lit up even more. “I go to Phelps Fitness on 87th and 50th. It’s the one that used to be Energy Gym, but some chain bought it out.” “But for me — I just don’t know if it’s for me. Like I’ve never even touched a weight,” Finn tried to reason. His bashfulness was genuine, and he was quickly realizing he should’ve just admitted that he didn’t give a fuck about the gym. Brian instead took it as a challenge. “That’s just fear, dude. Fear is what keeps men like you and me from reaching our potential.” He stood up as he crushed the rest of the milk. “Come on! You said you were interested. Just tag along, I can show you a couple workouts, then you can decide whether or not it’s for you. Deal?” This was far from anything Finn would seek out for himself. He’s a proud bookworm, armed with political theory and psychology. After all, the pen is mightier than the sword. Plus he has his fill of physical activity in his walks around the city. But in the back of his head, a voice was pushing him to try — plus he had no excuse not to. Finn couldn’t place exactly why he felt uncomfortable feeling the urge, or where the urge had come from. Years of lack of interest suddenly flipped to a cautious interest. Not that there was anything wrong with it. It’s good to want to be stronger after all. Finn looked up to Brian. “Sure,” he said, looking a little confused by his own decision. Something inside told him this was the right choice. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” Brian grinned. “Hell yeah. Alright, I’ll message you or something. I’ll be out in a couple hours and let you know.” He extended his hand. Finn awkwardly reached forward to shake it, just for his business shake being subverted by Brian dapping him up before he left the room. All alone in the breakroom once again, Finn began to agonize over the idea of scrawny him struggling to bench just 10 pounds. A part of him wanted to be able to bench 10,000.

Really enjoying this. Can't wait to see Sam in competition!

Oh, the physical descriptions, the dimensions - all on point. AWESOME story.

This is a great story. You can see in your mind the muscle growth happening as they become muscle studs. Please continue.

“I want all your muscles, your stamina, your metabolism, your masculine beauty, your physical potential, your athleticism.” **** A stream of warm water spurted out from the thick shower head. In the steam-filled shower booth, Austin's naked body began to be drenched in water. The tanned, healthy skin became shiny when it touched the water stream. Water cascaded down his broad shoulders and down his massive, deep muscular chest like a mountain range. It soon cleansed the eight-pack abs and moistened the massive cock and testicles between the thick legs. As Austin lazily turned back, the warm water flowed down his deep, bulging, broad muscular back, and soon his firm buttocks could feel the water. Austin enjoyed the warm, wonderful sensation for a few minutes and then took out the shower soap. His thick hands gently massaged his broad chest, brushed down his shoulders, and toned down his 20-inch biceps and deep abs. He then gently stroked his pipe-like 11-inch cock and large testicles, wiping away any traces of the night's fun. He reluctantly moved his hand from his cock to his firm, thick thighs, where his muscles were clearly visible, and rubbed them for a while. He begins to slowly brush his knees and calves, following the lines of those beautiful muscles. While enjoying his shower time, Austin thought about Ted and the 'bet' he had made. Ted was very popular as the best football player in the school, but to Austin, Ted was just a bad student who bullied Austin himself. Austin, who wanted revenge on Ted, decided to use witchcraft he had discovered in ancient books. Everything went according to Austin's plan, and as a result, Austin won the 'bet' and demanded a reward from Ted: his muscles, his physical potential, and his masculine beauty. From then on, as time passed, Ted took Austin's essence and gradually became smaller and more ordinary, and as Austin took Ted's essence little by little, he became bigger and stronger. After taking a shower, Austin returned to his room and put on a white shirt and underwear. Then suddenly, Austin stopped as he felt a huge pain in his testicles. Austin lifted his underwear and looked down to see that his testicles were writhing as if they were being squeezed. Austin finally realized that the final swap had begun. Austin had no time to react to this sudden phenomenon and just moaned and held his testicles in his hands. He felt the last of Ted's original essence being absorbed into his testicles, and it soon began to pump the last of his strength, causing his veins to pulsate throughout his body. "!!" While Austin just let out a moan, his body once again became covered in sweat and began to slowly bulge and grow. The muscles in his entire body twitched and became bigger and stronger, increasing his height to nearly 7ft. The cock and testicles he held in his hand seemed to swell and grow in size. It was too big to hold with one hand, so Austin managed to hold it with both hands. "Aaaah... yes! YES!!" Meanwhile, Austin's vision was forcibly becoming clearer, and he was getting a mild headache as more athletic knowledge flowed into his head. Even that was enough to give Austin an ecstatic feeling. In every way, Austin's body grew bigger and stronger. When Austin finally let out an orgasmic scream, the white shirt he had just been wearing was torn apart. Austin, who had been panting for a while as if after his long workout, checked out his body in amazement. Now he realized he had a muscular body of exactly the same size and shape as Ted had before his bet: biceps approaching 25 inches to prove it. Ted's biceps were the biggest in the school, they were 25 inches, and when Austin measured himself with a tape measure now, they were exactly 25 inches. Austin let out a low laugh, throwing his torn clothes on the floor, cutting off his underwear with scissors and throwing them on the bed. At this moment, a new school athlete was born who would perfectly replace Ted. What was even more pleasant was that this spell modified parts of reality so that no one would notice their changes. In this reality, Ted will always be a small, weak student, while Austin himself will be the dominant school athlete. Well, maybe he's even better than Ted in that he's sincere, humble, and kind. Austin giggled as he looked at the sweaty 7ft massive muscular body and went into the bathroom to wash up again.

Longer one, hope you enjoy! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 5: Summer break arrived, grim as a prison sentence. To be away from Frank for mere hours felt like torture. Especially now that I was a full-blown roid pig, and my sex drive was insatiable. How was I going to survive back home for three months? For his part, Frank was just as upset. He had to stay on campus for football training — same dorm room, no me. “Will you promise me something?” he asked on my last day, as we lay in bed together. I was tracing my fingers through the violent grooves of his eight pack. “Of course, what is it?” I was expecting him to ask me to remain faithful, to not mess around with other guys. Now that I looked like this, I attracted leers anywhere I went, from men and women alike. Everyone wanted me. But that’s not what Frank was talking about. “Don’t stop lifting and growing this summer,” he said. “I want to see you get even bigger. I want you to keep eating, keep cycling. Stay focused on muscle all summer. All day, every day. Come back even bigger than you are now. Come back so big, people will gasp when they see you. So big they won’t even recognize you. James, your body has already responded better than I had hoped. You’re a hunk now, but I can make you a freak. A muscle freak. So huge. We’ll make you so big. 290, maybe even 300 pounds. Oh my god bro... Fuck....Big as a pro bodybuilder. Bigger. The two of us. Waddling around campus. Fucking and fucking nonstop. Two muscle freaks. One tall, one short. Sex every hour. All that muscle. Muscle, sex. Roids. Fucking beasts. Huge. So huge. Muscle, big muscle, so strong, so much muscle, so much musc-- oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck James! I can’t handle it. Holy shit! UNHHHH!” Frank grabbed behind my neck with one huge hand, and stuck his tongue down my mouth forcefully. At the same moment, his dick sprayed a huge load without warning or even any touch. Rope after rope shot up and landed in Frank’s beard and on his veiny neck. I counted 8 ropes! All while he kissed me passionately -- almost desperately. This happened anytime Frank talked about my muscle growth. Nothing turned him on more, not even his own muscular development. The second he started to envision me growing bigger, he'd burn beet red, wheeze loudly. His eyes would unfocus and look manic. His cock would shoot up as fast as a soldier's salute. As a rule, he'd eventually devolve into muttering "muscle" over and over again, like an incantation, until he came spontaneously. These would always be his biggest loads (which is really saying something). Each time Frank spiraled like this, his fantasies got more extreme. First it was bulking me up to 230 pounds, now it was 300. Of course, I couldn't have been more turned on either. I loved watching him lose control like this. I also started to realize that these fantasies could actually become a reality. I was almost 19, and already 225 pounds. To become a genuine mass monster, even a professional bodybuilder, suddenly felt plausible, especially while Frank was around. Laying beside him, I stroked my bulging pecs, arms, shoulders, quads, glutes... I was still blown away by their size. I soon came a load almost as large as Frank's. His fantasy was now my reality, my goal. -- So I had my marching orders for the summer. I also had (thanks to Frank) a year's worth of tren packed in my suitcase. With a heavy heart, it was time for me to head home. We had one last, incredible fuck session. Then another one. Then another one. Then finally, realizing I was about to miss my flight, I called an Uber and dashed off. Frank's dry cum still coated me underneath my super-tight clothes. The aroma of his pits was on my face in the cab, which gave me a throbbing boner the entire ride to the airport. I was 5'9, 18 y/o, 225 pounds. Tight denim jeans tearing inside the crotch. Light blue college t-shirt so tight you could see every ridge of my abs, both my nipples, my thick upper pecs almost touching my chin. Whenever I glanced at my reflection in a mirror or window, I was astonished at how wide I looked -- and also how obscene. Like a bodybuilder in the first minute of a gay porno, wearing ridiculous, undersized clothes. Stares from every direction as I rushed through the airport to board my plane. The gay flight attendant did a double take when he welcomed me on board. For a second, his mouth was agape. I winked, and he went red. I knew I looked like a fantasy cooked up in a lab. I approached my seat. A small, nerdy kid with glasses my same age -- no doubt on his way home from college as well -- regarded me with terror. I weighed a hundred pounds more than him, even though we were about the same height. As I stretched to stow my bag in the overhead bin, my tight shirt left my slightly hairy, washboard abs exposed. My bulging crotch was one inch from the kid's face. I'm sure he could smell the cum and sweat inside. I sat down beside him, my weight shaking the plane seat. All the color drained from his cheeks. The plane took off. The cabin lights dimmed, and almost everyone fell asleep. This was my first time in a plane seat since my "growth spurt." My shoulders and arms jutted well into the nerd's personal space. My hard tricep rubbed against his sad, noodley arm. I kept thinking how, just six months ago, I was this geek's size. We were probably the exact same age, yet I could do military presses with his body and not even break a sweat. Maybe even with one arm. I thought: Should I apologize for how much space I was taking up? I really was encroaching a full quarter into his seat. My bulging shoulder was digging into his tiny body. (The other one jutted into the aisle, so no one could pass by without brushing it.) My arm wasn't even on the arm rest, that's how wide I was. Then I noticed that the nerd was awkwardly covering up a boner in his lap. "Heh," I laughed under my breath. I turned my bulging neck and looked him in the eyes. I winked. He went as red as a firetruck. Now I was feeling arrogant. Discreetly, without anyone noticing, I grabbed his wrist and laid it on my bicep. I flexed, and the little nerd squeezed as hard as he could. (Not very.) Then I guided his tiny arm up under my shirt. I let him feel my pecs. I bounced them up and down as he groped them pathetically. His grip suddenly weakened. "Uff!" he whimpered. I saw a dark spot growing in his pants. My huge muscles had just made him cum. "Good boy," I whispered, and pushed him away, before anyone noticed. Fun as this mile-high muscle worship was, I was already missing Frank. I scrolled through the hundreds of X-rated pictures and videos of him on my phone, both heartbroken and incredibly aroused. Pics of us together when I was just 180 pounds, and he was 375. Videos of me pounding him doggy style, his back muscles jiggling. I could feel the nerd's prying eyes on my screen. I stumbled upon a recent, shirtless, chest-up picture of Frank, from his 430-pound era. He was smiling, as handsome as a movie star, but his furry pecs and shoulders looked so shockingly pumped that the nerd gasped. "Your...boyfriend?" he asked meekly. "You could say that," I replied. "Oh my God. He's... huge," he whispered, looking at Frank's picture in disbelief. He was spellbound. Now I had a painful erection. I lowered the seat back tray to hide it. But my heart was heavy. Three months apart. It sunk in. What if Frank found someone new? Someone even bigger than me? Vague jealousy burned like flames in my mind. I felt more motivated than ever to grow this summer. I'd come back so huge that Frank would be shocked, so big he could never find someone hotter than me. So big, so fucking big, so much muscle... my mind looped and looped, just like Frank's. Maybe it was the tren. The nerd watched as I took out a two-pound Tupperware container. Ground chicken, brown rice. 120 grams protein. It was a four-hour flight, and I had three of these meals to eat. -- To say my parents were horrified would be an understatement. At the airport, they didn't even recognize me at first. "It's me, it's James," I assured them. Even my voice was deepened by the roids. They hugged me like I was a science-fiction monster, confused and alarmed. You have to remember that the last time they had seen me, just six months prior, I was a lean, 155-pound kid. Now I was 225 pounds. I had told them I was bigger, that I'd been lifting, but not much else. Now, their charming, sensitive, academically inclined son was a roided-out meathead, more muscular than a Chippendale's dancer. Voice deeper, face wider but still jarringly boyish on a thick neck that stretched my shirt collar. Obscene, veiny muscles bulging everywhere -- ass, shoulders, pecs, arms, traps -- beastly, erotic bulges attracting stares from all corners. The next few days were pretty awful. Long fights ensued. Vehement lectures about the dangers of steroids (which I denied using, lol). Insistence that I see a psychiatrist for "bigorexia." But I knew what body dysmorphia was, and I didn't have it. I didn't think I was small. I thought I was huge. And I loved it. And now the only thing I wanted was to get bigger. All my parents’ anxieties and pressure didn’t amount to much when I thought of the sweaty, hairy, 430-pound muscle bottom that was waiting for me back at school. Frank’s special kind of madness had infected me. Logical reason fell by the wayside. All that mattered anymore was muscle and sex. With horror, it dawned on my parents that not only had I transformed utterly...I wasn't finished yet! I hadn't lined up a single thing to do that summer except train and eat and cycle on more and more gear. No internship, no summer job, no friends or social life even. Just gym and consuming shocking amounts of protein, day in, day out. Every now and then, I might come across a hulking gorilla at the gym or on Grindr, and I'd fuck their brains out. But those were my only, occasional distractions. If that was cheating on Frank, then it hardly counted, because Frank had spoiled me for sex. Guys smaller than 230 pounds no longer interested me -- and even when I found a roided-out muscle bottom, he'd never have a cock as massive and beautiful as Frank's was, or a face as handsome, or lips as soft. By my 19th birthday, late in June, I was 235 -- up a full ten pounds from my last weigh-in, and yet leaner and more defined than ever. My parents pretty much cut me off. They'd still pay for college in the fall, they said, but they didn't want to underwrite the money I was spending on food and new clothes and probably steroids that summer. Yet I soon realized that I could make a fortune doing cam shows, just flexing and jerking off for ridiculous rates, and could even raise my prices as I grew bigger and freakier each week. (Being hung didn’t hurt either.) So money became a non-issue. It poured in. In fact, I was making more than my parents did, unbeknownst to them. By early August, I was 250 pounds, a number that shocked even me. By then, my largest shirts fit like crop tops and left my well-defined abs exposed. Finally, my parents put their foot down. Either I see a psychiatrist, or they would stop paying my tuition. Reluctantly, I agreed. Through a stroke of luck, this ultimatum totally backfired on them. Within seconds of meeting my handsome, 30-something psychiatrist ("call me Justin") I realized he was gay. I could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure as he looked me up and down. As soon as the door of his office closed, I literally tore off my shirt. I practically leapt over his desk and shoved his face in between my pecs, forced him to suck on my perfect nipples. I flexed a bicep (21 inches) and pushed it into his face. He moaned and slobbered all over my peak, then huffed my musky pits. I swiped all the stuff off his desk -- it crashed on the floor -- and I roughly laid him out on the surface. I picked him up and started doing military presses with his body, over and over, with perfect form. I could tell from the bulge in his pants how much he was loving my show of strength. Then I laid him down on the chaise lounge (where I was supposed to be in therapy). I sat on his face, and enjoyed the frantic, overwhelmed way he ate out my bubble butt, no doubt the most muscular one he had ever seen. The shrink quickly came in his nice slacks. But I wasn't through with him. I flipped around and shoved my 8-inch cock down his throat. At first he nearly choked, but eventually managed to suck me dry. My load was enormous. All this worship had made me more horned up than I'd been in months. I started to put my tattered, indecent clothes back on. "That's all the time we have for today," I joked as I walked out the door -- knowing he'd never forget how good my ass looked as I left. -- A few days later, I overheard Dr. Justin debriefing my parents on our session on speakerphone. "Mr. and Mrs. Keller, you have nothing to worry about. James shows no signs of body dysmorphia or any other psychiatric disorder. Bodybuilding is a perfectly legitimate sport, and you should be encouraging James for his dedication and hard work. In fact, I'm a little disappointed that you have been so dismissive of James's athletic goals." My mom fell for it, hook, line and sinker. "Oh, God, you're right. How could we have been so unsupportive? I feel terrible." But my dad raged. "Encouraging THIS!? But the boy looks like a FREAK!" “Mr. Keller, I don’t think words like ‘freak’ are helpful here.” "Honey, listen to the doctor. We need to support James." "But what about the steroids?!" "In my medical opinion, I see no signs that James is abusing steroids. After speaking with him, it is my belief that he simply has excellent adherence to his diet and exercise regimen -- as well as a genetic predisposition for muscular hypertrophy." "BUT HE'S GROWING FIVE POUNDS A WEEK! THE KID HAS 21-INCH ARMS!" "Ron! Don't second-guess the doctor. He's the expert here." "Well, all of this being said, I do think James would benefit from continuing therapy. Maybe you could send him back to my office?" -- Although my dad wasn't happy, that was the end of the fighting. My parents yielded to my increasingly extreme lifestyle and size. Emboldened, I dramatically increased my tren and macros, and by the end of the summer, I was teetering at 265 pounds, up a full 40 pounds since June, and 110 pounds since January. I wasn't just training my muscles… As long as I'd known Frank, I'd never been able to bottom for him. His 10.5" dick was too much for me. I couldn’t even get it inside me. So all summer, I was practicing with bigger and bigger toys, getting ready to ride his almost fist-sized cock the day we reunited. Even though Frank was on my mind constantly, we hadn't corresponded much. It was pointless to text or call him. He lived in the moment, whether lifting or eating or fucking or practicing, and barely looked at his phone. The messages I sent would sit unread for days, driving me into a frenzy of insecurity. The few messages I got back were dashed off in pidgin English. ("miss u 2 bro, iam jo 2u rn. still growin??") Sometimes I thought he was barely literate. Plus, there was a tacit understanding between us that we didn't want to reveal too much. We both wanted to be shocked by each other's growth when we finally reunited in person. Imagine what Frank is going to think when he sees me. That was all I thought, day in and day out, as I pounded protein shakes, pushed barbells, and pegged myself in my locked bedroom. One hot August afternoon, as a twelve-inch dildo ripped through my bubble butt, I came the biggest load of the whole summer, picturing the shock on Frank's face when he'd finally see me next week. -- The day came. I was returning to college for sophomore year. Unlike my last flight, this time, I knew I was far too big to fly coach. I just wouldn't fit. So I used some of my cam money to upgrade to First Class. Even in the larger seats, my lats spilled out comically. A tank top, barely a scrap of fabric, left half my pecs and both nipples completely exposed. It was pretty fun to watch the other passengers trudge by, the look of shock on their faces when they saw a 265-pound, 19-year old bodybuilder looking back at them arrogantly. I made sure they all had to brush past my veiny arm, which jutted into the aisle. Especially the nerds around my age, whom I took special pleasure in intimidating. I didn't eat any of the First Class food, though. I brought seven pounds of ground beef and rice in three huge Tupperware containers. Spent most of the flight stuffing my face, trying not to leak too much pre-cum thinking about my growing muscles -- and of the furry, wheezing, waddling mass monster that was waiting for me back on campus. Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank. After I was done eating my Tupperware meals, I started rubbing my bulging chest, flexing my arms, turned on by my own mass. The other people in First Class glared at me. I’ll admit, my behavior and appearance were pretty shocking. My dick got so painfully hard that I needed to rub one out. I stuffed myself into the airplane bathroom, barely able to close the door. I felt like a sardine. Then I looked in the mirror. I almost came on the spot. I could not believe how massive I had become. I pulled my cock out of my sweatpants and flopped it on the tiny bathroom counter. I looked back at my reflection and immediately orgasmed. I sprayed a load all over the little sink and mirror. I flexed for a few more minutes, totally stunned. I half-heartedly cleaned up the mess, then waddled back to my seat to drink a protein shake. — My flight had been delayed, and I got to our dorm quite late -- almost 2am. Everyone on campus was asleep. I stood outside our door. New year, same little cinder-block dorm room. We had pulled some strings to stay paired together another year. My heart pounded. I was completely hard. Just imagine what Frank will think when he sees me. Even as I reached for the door handle, the enlarged size of my veiny forearm caught my eye. A warm feeling surged through my cock. The room was pitch black. I heard Frank’s typical snoring and closed the door quietly, trying not to wake him. The scent of sweat and muscle and cum was overpowering, like a smack in the face. It conjured the countless fuckfests we'd had in the room over the past year. My dick throbbed with pleasure and anticipation. I even started moaning out loud, that's how horned up I felt. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. I realized the mattress was on the floor for some reason, no bed frame -- and the huge, dark mound on the mattress must be Frank. I set my bag down, then peeled off my clothes silently. Now I was completely naked. My dick was pulsating from Frank's pheromones and my months of waiting. I tiptoed towards the mattress in the center of the room, stepping on jock-straps, cum-stained bodybuilding mags, empty vials of tren... Same loud snores. Frank could sleep through anything. I climbed into bed with him. I got under the covers. I nestled next to him, so I was big spoon. Frank's naked body felt molten hot as I ran my fingers through his fur. Impossible to describe his scent. Even in the darkness, just tactilely, I could tell something was different. This was Frank, but this wasn't Frank's same body. For example, I cupped one of his shoulders with both of my hands, yet even two hands couldn't encompass his delt -- that's how enormous he was. Cuddling him from behind, I couldn't even reach around his lats; he was too wide. My fingers grew more restless as I realized he was far, far larger than the last time I saw him. In disbelief, I groped his sleeping muscles, squeezed his neck, caressed his beard, the stubble on the back of his head... Frank snorted loudly and flipped onto his back, almost crushing me in the process. But he didn't wake up. Frank started to talk in his sleep. "Fuck...Muscle bro...Fuckin' huge...Muscle...Freak...Musc..." he muttered. Then he resumed snoring even louder. Now I could feel his pecs. I delicately kneaded them, toyed with his sensitive nipples. ("Unnh!" Frank cried unconsciously.) Yes, they were much bigger too. Hard to tell how much bigger in the dark. I was in a silent frenzy. I could have cum right then and there. Yet I decided to reach down further. I felt it. Frank's 10.5" cock, as hot and hard as I had dreamed of it. I tasted some of the pre-cum that dribbled out. I had to do it. I had to ride him. I very quietly stood up, stripped the blanket off of his body. I squatted over Frank's cock and guided it into my massive bubble butt. I just used a bit of spit for lube. Even in his dreams, Frank was leaking so much pre that I didn't need much else. All the training I had subjected myself to that summer was leading here. Frank was still asleep as he entered me. I cried out in pain. Then the pain subsided and pleasure rushed over me like nothing I'd ever felt before. I slowly thrust up and down, taking more and more, until he was inside me up the hilt. I was legit crying tears of joy as Frank unwittingly tore through my ass -- feeling like the type of huge muscle bottom I'd always fantasized about. I started thrusting my ass faster and faster as I rode him. Then suddenly a change came over Frank. He didn't wake up, but some kind of animal spirit inside of him did. His super-strong hands clasped my waist, and suddenly he was thrusting harder and harder. Pounding me. "AHHHHH!" I screamed, unable to stay quiet any longer. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I roared with each thrust. The feeling was so intense, I was about to pass out. Then Frank truly woke up. "WHAT THE -- what the FUCK?" he yelled out in confusion as I rode his cock in the darkness. I must have looked like a huge dark shape bouncing up and down on his boner. "AH! AH! AH AH!" I moaned, incapable of even forming words. I was starting to black out, the room was receding, but I couldn't stop riding Frank. It felt too incredible. Then Frank groped for a lamp near the bed. He clicked it on. A blinding light filled the room. I realized why the mattress was on the floor. The wooden bed frame had evidently buckled -- its wreckage was piled in the corner of the dorm room. I looked down at Frank, he looked up at me. We saw each other for the first time in three months. All while 10.5 inches of him were inside me. I'll cut to the chase. Frank was 470 pounds. He had gained 40 pounds of mass that summer. His arms had grown to 26 inches. His furry pecs were so enormous that from my angle, riding him, they actually hid most of his face. His cheeks were fuller and his face was broader from all the gear, yet he was as handsome as ever, even with a stunned look in his eyes. Then you have to imagine Frank's POV, bright light suddenly on, looking up and seeing his roommate, now a 265-pound gorilla, riding his cock for the first time ever, pectorals and hard cock flopping up and down. "J--James?" "FRANK!" (In unison) "OH MY GOD! UNNNNNNNH!!!!" As his load GUSHED into my hole, mine exploded all over his mega-pecs and his beautiful face. The biggest load I'd ever produced. His face was completely coated, like a mask. We both came and came and came and came and came. Our muscles were shuddering and quivering post-orgasm. The harsh light of the bedside lamp made our bodies look all the more freakish and unreal. Two absolute monsters, roid pigs, 19 years old, 735 pounds of muscle between us. Frank's sensitive cock was still deep inside me, gushing warm sperm deeper and deeper. We locked eyes. Underneath a veil of cum, I could tell Frank was smiling devilishly. That was how our sophomore year began.

That would be fantastic!

I would love to see more

I have an Idea for a Spinoff with Sean and Vincent (And a prequel for those that want more of the Glencrosses). Time will tell if I ever get around to it.

I don't do a lot of writing, but this one has been a little vivid for me, and I thought I'd share it. There is an incomplete part 2 I'll get out sometime in the future. THE SHORT ONE “Yeah, Mike! Drive that UUUUP!!!!” Yelled Rick, as Mike, the squat, broad, bearded, powerlifter, drove the four-hundred-pound loaded bar upwards again. “Good man!” Rick continued, smacking the shorter fire hydrant-like man on the back. “Good one! Six reps, that’s a new record for you!” Breathing heavily, Mike huffed out between breaths, “Yeah..(huff)...new one…(huff)...took me…(huff)...forever to get…(huff)...there.” Mike, a young guy of 30, standing 5’6”, weighed in at almost 270 pounds of bulky powerlifter beef. The last two years of heavy lifting and training - and all the gear he could handle - had made him a sight at the gym. Looking at Mike you knew he was a powerlifter. He had become a brick all the way from his traps to his waist, and his legs were thick enough that he had developed a waddle. He had no neck left to speak of, just traps that made a mountain range from his skull down, then out to his ultra-wide shoulders. Mikes’ thick back was complimented by a bulging turtle-shell stomach and spinal erectors you could lose your hand in. He had an obvious squatters-butt which went down to thick thighs and bulging calves. Stairs were sometimes a problem for Mike - his breathing wasn’t the best, but he didn’t care. Just what he could squat, bench, deadlift. That was his life and he had become totally dedicated to it over the last two years. Rick, his coach, was part of his drive. Encouraging him, and making sure every day at the gym was a good one, and every meal, and every shot of gear, drove him forward to his goal. “Rick, what do you think, am I there yet?” Mike eventually huffed out. “Man, this is great. You’re definitely at the top of your weight class, and you’ll bring this one in for sure!” “Yeah, but what then?” “What then? After the state competition, the regional, just like we talked about.” “No man, I mean how do I go up in weight from here? The next class up!” Rick frowned and furrowed his brow, “Buddy, we talked about this…. You’re amazing, but that next class up, it’s not something you’ll do well in. You’re huge, and at this height you’re as big as you can get,” “Gotta get bigger, Rick. You know that!” Rick sighed. “Man, I didn’t know the monster I created.” He laughed, “Okay, let’s just call it a day and see what we can do this next session tomorrow, OK?” “Ok man. But, if I were bigger - you know, taller, and all - you could move me up a class, right?” Rick waved his hands and looked up at the ceiling, “Yeah, but man, it ain’t gonna happen! You have to work with what you’ve got! You’re big, huge! You’re doing fine in your class!” “Okay Rick, I got it. No worries, OK? I’ll get taller, got it handled!” “Right man, I know….” Rick, thinking he must have misheard Mike, just brushed off the comment. “I’m headed out for dinner. Catch you Wednesday for training!” Rick nodded back & waved Mike off. LATER THAT NIGHT. Greg put five ounces of chicken into the twelfth meal container just as the doorbell rang. He rinsed off his hands and yelled “One second, Mike! I’ll be right there!” Leaving behind for a moment the kitchen-manufacturing lines of rice, chicken, and vegetables, the big bear went to the door and let in his short, squat powerlifter buddy, Mike. “Thanks man, I’m starving!” Growled the dumpster-like short brick house powerlifter. “You always do the best for me, man!” They shared a typically off-balance greeting hug: Mike, phenomenally strong and powerlifter-thick, was 5’6”. Greg on the other hand was a towering 6’10”. Greg had broad shoulders from time in the gym, but he wasn’t an iron-addict like Mike. Greg smiled. “Hey, I love supporting my best friend. I’ve almost got 2 days worth of meals put together for you, just finishing up. Hang on, I’ve got dinner for us both. You start & I’ll join you in a sec, I want those covered & in the fridge before I call it done.” He gestured to plates with huge portions of chicken, pasta, and vegetables. “Take those over & I’ll be there in a moment.” “You know just what I need!” Mike took the food to the dining table, helped himself to utensils, and set out the meals for both of them. After putting lids on meal containers and putting them in neat stacks in the fridge, Greg joined Mike and sat at the table. Eating for a few minutes quietly, Greg reflected on what a funny pair they were. Good friends, and occasionally with benefits, they had a lot of interests in common. Mike turned thoughtful for a second, fidgeting with a ring on his right ring finger. “Greg, I gotta ask you something serious.” “Ok, what’s up?” Mike leaned in and put his right hand on Greg’s right hand. “You know how you’re so supportive of my powerlifting?” “Yeah bud, of course! I know how important it is to you. I love seeing you conquer those lifts!” Mike smiled. “Yeah, you’re always ready to help me in any way, right?” “Yes, that’s why I’ve got the meals together for you, and help keep you on schedule.” “I know, and you’d do anything to help me, right?” “Yes. Isn’t that what I just said?” “Yeah, it is. I just really need to know.” Mike leaned in towards the bigger man. “You’re totally on my side, happy to help me any way you can, right?” Greg looked confused. “Bud, I don’t know why this is so big a deal to you. Yes, I am. I’ve told you a bunch and I still mean it. Now, what’s up?” Mike let go of Greg’s hand with a big smile and sat up solid in his chair, hands on his thighs. The ring on his hand showing a soft glow before fading away. “You know how Rick, my trainer, has been down on me, right?” Greg scowled a little. “No, I know how you have been down on him because he can’t move you up a weight class. He’s telling you, like he has for a while, that you’re going to have a hard time packing on weight to compete with those guys. They run sixty to eighty pounds more, and have the taller frame to carry it.” “Yeah, but if I could be that big I’d be able to compete there!” Greg said, “I know...but...look, where is this going?” Greg and Mike had joked once or twice that they were born at the wrong heights. If Mike were Greg’s size - sixteen inches taller - he’d be spending all his time adding two hundred pounds to his frame, and many more hundreds to his lifts, working on being either the world champion of powerlifting or strongman competitions. But life doesn’t always deal those cards the way you wanted. Mike looked at him squarely and said “Since you’re up for helping me with anything, I need you give me half your size and strength.” Greg laughed, “Man, I’d love to, I just don’t know how!”. “Well, I solved that problem”, said Mike. He raised his right hand and wiggled the ring finger. “I found this charm at a Chinese magic shop. I didn’t believe it, but I tested it and it worked. If you agree to help me three times while I hold your hand...you can help me in any way, including by giving me your size. Stand up! I’ll show you. It takes some time.” Mike stood up. Greg looked skeptical, but smiled. “I don’t know what you’re smoking, but I’ll run with this little scene if you’re up for some playtime tonight. It's not like we haven’t started some fun with that as a scene before.” Greg stood up and stepped closer to Mike, looking down at the thick fireplug. Only...he wasn’t looking down as much as he expected. “Mike, are you on your toes?” “No big guy...I’m getting bigger. And, you are getting smaller.” “No way! It can’t be!” Greg moved right up to Mike, and put his hands on Mike’s shoulders, looking down into Mikes eyes and paying attention to his hands & shoulders. After just a moment he could tell his perspective was shifting down, and his hands were moving up. He could feel Mike’s shoulders slowly growing bigger under his hands. “Fuck! No way!” Greg shouted! They had actually role-played something like this a few times. Greg had fantasies about being a smaller guy, not always being the biggest guy in a room, the focus of attention for men, and women. Being in the spotlight, every time and always, just because of his towering height. Mike, meanwhile couldn’t want anything more than to have exactly that. He craved it Both the attention...and the frame to put on all the size he wanted. To be the biggest guy in any room. He dreamed of never having to look up, at anyone, ever. Mike grinned as he and Greg locked gazes, knowing that at least for one person, he wouldn't be looking up at him again...very soon. “For real man, you’re gonna be half your size, maybe less, in a few minutes. And I’m going to be a goddam giant, bigger than you ever were! Biggest, strongest man in the world, coming right up!” Greg was too entranced by what was happening to think about what Mike was saying. The danger in the words was blocked by having his fantasy of being smaller really happening. Mike brushed Greg’s hands off his shoulders, then reached down and pulled his shirt off over his head. This revealed his thick pecs, broad on his chest, covered with fur. He looked up (but not as far as before) into Greg’s eyes, and brought both 20” arms up into a double bicep pose, spreading his thick legs apart to keep him steady. His bulging shoulders and traps crowded his head, his big turtle shell belly pushed out as he arched his back keeping his arms up. “Lick that big, growing arm, shrinking bear!” he ordered Greg. Having played this before, Greg closed his eyes, leaned down, and started licking Mikes’ right biceps, stroking Mike’s chest with one hand, while running the other back and forth from Mike’s right shoulder to fingertips, squeezing the strong, solid powerlifter muscles from time to time. He aggressively made love to the muscles in front of him, loving their hardness, the soft cover of fat and fur over them. Mike groaned in pleasure, sometimes taking his left hand, reaching up, and rubbing Greg’s scalp, squeezing Greg’s traps or shoulders, as Greg kept worshipping Mike’s muscles with his eyes closed.. But something was different this time. After a couple more minutes Greg realized he wasn’t leaning down so much anymore to suck & lick on that meaty bicep bulge in front of him. Just a few inches down where before he was bending way down - from six-ten! - now, they were closer in height, and moving closer still. Mike loved it. Mike hadn’t gained as much height as Greg had lost. Apparently the charm thought of “size and strength” as related. Much of Greg’s strength came from being so tall a guy - he was strong, but a lot came from his raw size. Meanwhile, Mike was a weight-trained tank. He was much stronger than his height would suggest. Every inch he grew taller was hugely more strong than the inch that Greg lost. Mike kept his eyes open the whole time. He saw the perspective of the room changing around him. Saw Greg leaning down less and less. The man who had started at 5’6” was now an even six foot tall, and Greg was just a little taller, about 6’2”. “Keep those eyes closed a little more, Shrinking Bear. I am going to have a surprise for you in just...another...minute! Keep making love to that big arm. Does it feel bigger to you?” Mike’s 19” arms had grown to at least 21” as he took in size and strength from Greg. “Yes, Big Bear! It feels so big!” “Yeah, little Shrinker! It is. It is sooo much bigger. You can’t get your hands around it now, can you?’ “No, Big Bear, I can’t! I used to, and I can’t now!” It was true. At six-ten, Greg’s huge hands could make a circle covering 20”...but now, being smaller, and that arm bulging bigger, he tried, and he couldn’t. Greg loved the proof that he was getting smaller. After another minute of being stroked and adored, Mike spoke again. “Okay, Shrinking Bear...you can open your eyes.” He opened his eyes to find he was looking just slightly down into Mikes eyes. Greg was just an inch taller than Mike. Mike smiled broadly. “See, ‘big guy’...? I’m getting bigger than you! You’re going to have to really mean it now when you call me Big Mike! Keep looking at me right now. Look straight into my eyes….” Greg’s cock was already solid. Now it has turned to iron. He was looking just a little down into Mike’s eyes. Mike had expanded proportionally in every way, with his muscles expanding more than his height, growing in strength. About six inches taller, he was about a hundred or more pounds heavier and his muscles were all bulging out more than before. His arms were definitely 23” by now. Mike could feel how much heavier he was getting in his limbs, he could see his perspective change as Greg shrank and he grew to his rightful size, thicker and bigger than before. “I love seeing you bigger, bud! You have always been Big Mike to me - but now it;s gonna be a different thing!” Greg noticed the room around them. “Are we both six feet tall now?!?! Fuck! Things seem bigger to me from here!” He looked around a little “I’m used to seeing the top of the fridge all the time...and now I can’t see it at all!” “I’ll let you know what it looks like in a few minutes. See Greg? Are you looking right at me?” Greg returned to looking right at Mike’s eyes. “Yes Big Bear! Right at you!” “Good. Now keep looking at me….there! Do you see it now?” Greg took a moment, looking in Mike’s eyes. It took him an extra second or two. “Holy crap! I’m looking up at you! I can’t fucking believe it! I’m looking up at you!” “That’s right, Shrinking Bear! You’re going to keep shrinking until I have half of what you were carrying around on you! I wonder how small you’ll be by then?” Mike smirked, loving his new stature over his formerly towering friend. “Okay Shrinker, look at that arm you’re supposed to be licking.” Mike hoisted his right arm up to shoulder position again, bulging more out than before, his thick mass of muscle, fat and fur right in Greg’s face. Or, as Greg now noticed...just above his face. “No...way….” Greg started. Noticing that Mike’s arm was slowly rising above his own eye level. “Better lick it soon, Shrinking Greg. Big Mike will only want to lean down for a little while to help you….” Mike grew warm inside from dominating Greg and having it be real. In the past, he had said those words but had to rely on Greg to play along. “Not today,” he thought to himself. “Not again, ever. Now is the time for Big Mike! Maybe even Big Big Mike!” “Lick that arm, Shrinking Bear! While you can!” Greg got up on his toes and resumed kissing and caressing Mike’s massive arm, licking the biceps and triceps. He stood more and more on his tiptoes as he worshipped the burgeoning, growing arm. His own hands and mouth shrinking away with time, everything about Mike seemed bigger and bigger to him. Lost in the thrill of it, he distantly wondered if this is how Mike had felt about him, when Mike looked up and almost a foot and a half separated them. Mike kept flexing his muscles for Greg. After another minute even all the way up on his toes, stretching to his limit, his mouth couldn’t make contact with Mike’s raised biceps any more. Greg stopped, breathing hard, catching his breath, and leaned against Mike’s massive, hard gut for a moment, the flesh still growing up slowly. Mike’s body is still very slowly expanding, getting bigger, stronger, all over. Growing more full, round, padded muscle on top of his already large body. Mike leaned forward, his huge chest looming over Greg’s head, and put his big hands on Greg’s back, pushing him inwards against his massive, sweaty gut. “Yeah Little Bear, clean up this big, sweaty lifter...lick me clean...I can just feel those little hands of yours rubbing around my big, solid, belly. Can’t even reach around to my waist, can you?!? Yeah, you little fuck...let’s see how small you are now….” Greg moved back a little, momentarily shocked out of his focus on his sexual energy and worship of Mike’s growing body. Mike looked down at him and took stock of the room. Mike could see the top of the fridge now, looking down on it easily. And he was at least twice as wide. He had grown into a massive bull of a man, vast traps and shoulder width. Thick pecs that blocked his sight down, and a solid turtle-shell gut that blocked even more. His arms and legs were thick with muscle and padding, the shape of the muscles still seen, and becoming pronounced when he moved. He weighed almost 400 pounds and guessed his height at about 6’5”, almost a foot taller than he had been. Greg craned his head way back and looked up at Mike’s face so far above. Greg stepped in just a little and rested his chest against the top of Mike’s massive barrel, his arms reaching up and resting on Mikes’ power belly. Mike guessed Greg was about 5’ tall now, getting close to Mikes’ gut. Greg was slim. “You...you...you are a real giant to me - you’re like twice my size!” “Yeah little man, and maybe ten times your weight! HA HA HA!!!” Mike lifted his arms again into a giant double bicep pose, lording his massiveness over Greg, turning his head to see his own flexing 25” arms. “Yeah you little fucker! Look at that arm! Bigger than your head!” Mike looked down at Greg. “No, you can’t see it from down there. Let me fix that!” Mike crabbed down into a most muscular pose, his great shaggy head just a foot away from Gregs face, his arms on either side of Greg’s tiny body. “BOOM!” Mike said. Mikes’ watermelon sized arms flexed inwards at Greg, his chest almost knocking the tiny man over being flexed in front of him. Greg put one hand on each pulsing bicep, stroking and mumbling. “So big...so thick..surrounding me….” “Yeah buddy! I’m BIG Mike! And that’s just my arms!” Greg looked up at Mike, towering almost half again his size - something no one had done to him since early childhood! Greg was stuttering. “So...big...so...massive….” Mike: “Feel that leg now, Tiny Bear! Feel my calf while you’re there! Get on your knees!” Greg dropped to both knees, his head now just bumping into Mike’s bulging crotch. “Big Bear...I think you grew somewhere else too!” “Yes! Hadn’t planned on it...but a big man can use a big cock! But, you’ll get that dessert later, Little Bear.” Mike grinned the way only a man with a giant cock does. “Right now...lick those quads. I’m not as clean as I want to be. BOOM!” Mike flexed one leg closest to Greg, every head of the quadriceps bulging and separated hugely before him. “Lick those lines clean Little Man!” Greg started licking, loving being smaller than ever, being dominated for real by a giant man, bigger than him, overpowering him, making him do whatever the bigger man said. As a tall man he had never truly given in before...now he was. He licked and stroked the massive thigh in front of him. His hands moving over the muscle were so tiny in comparison. Greg had not had to look up at someone in years and intimidated most men he met. Being in front of a man who must be at least four times his weight, and 25% taller, was entrancing. “Now my calf. Clean it boy!” Mike lifted the flexed leg up on toes, making the massive calf ball up and bulge out even more. “Yes, my Big Bear Master! Yes!” Greg’s cock was as hard as it could get, dying for release. He licked the two heads of the calf in front of him, all of his attention focused on pleasing his Big Musclebear Master. “Sir, may I come? I so want to come! You are so big over me...so...so..so..strong.!” “Shrinking Bear, I’m going to pick you up, and you can come when I tell you. It’ll be soon. Now, stand up again.” Greg stood up, Mike leaned forward over him again, making Greg move back just a little in shock of the man so much bigger than him. “I bet you don’t weigh a damn thing Little Bear. Let’s see!” Mike grabbed Greg around the waist with both hands and picked him so his arms were straight out in front of him. Greg’s head was just a little above Mike’s. “So light, you’re just so fucking LIGHT!!!! YES!!!!” Greg’s cock was sticking straight out as he looked down, some, at Mike. The 6’5” powerlifter was inhumanly vast from his growth, at least four feet across the shoulders, and two from front to back. Mike’s shoulders were legitimately bigger than basketballs. “Little bear, I’m going to suck your cock just like this while I’m standing here, and you’re going to come right then, so you please your Musclebear Master, yes?” “Yes sir! Ye-” Before Greg could finish his sentence Mike opened his big mouth and took Greg’s cock and balls inside, sucking on Greg’s cock, teasing his balls. Greg came in less than ten seconds, screaming in pleasure instantly. “YEEEEESSSSS! YESSSSSSSS!!! AUGGGHHHHH!!! OH GOD, AUUGGGGGHHHHH! YES!!!!!!!” It felt like Mike had sucked his balls totally dry right in that moment...but Greg knew he had more, just not yet. Greg dropped limp in Mikes grasp, totally spent. Mike lowered Greg down, back to shoulder height, and gradually made his way over to Greg’s oversized couch nearby. Being so tall, Greg had a lot of “big guy” furniture. Mike wasn’t yet the height Greg had been, but he was far heavier and thicker. Mike lay out on the couch in his gym shorts, his right leg up on the couch, his left foot on the ground, with the five foot tall Greg stretched out against him, his back against Mike’s torso, legs up on the couch. Greg was still dazed and spent, happy in the strongest afterglow he had ever been in. Mike’s giant right arm held Greg against him. With his left hand, Mike stroked Greg slowly. “Yes little bear, rest a moment. You’re going to need it. There you go...rest a bit….” Greg, naked, shrunken, and spent, actually fell asleep against Mike. Mike - Big Mike - just watched the little man against his chest. Sometimes flexing his own arm or moving his hand, feeling happy about how massive he was, and how small his formerly towering friend felt against him. About a half hour later, Greg slowly woke up. He took a moment to realize the massive arm across him was real. In his own mind, he was still an almost 7’ tall man. For a moment, he was in the arm of a ten foot hill of fur and muscle, holding him tight. Then he realized that the couch and everything else were bigger, and that what had happened was real. “Mike.” “Yes, Greg.” “Can we get up?” “Yes. But you’re not getting ‘up’ as much as you’re used to!” Mike lifted his arm, and Greg swung himself around and stood up on the floor. Mike stayed seated on the couch, but swung around to sit up, facing Greg. Greg, standing, was only a handful of inches taller than Mike, seated. Greg was just staring at Mike for a moment, reaching out and rubbing Mike’s massive shoulders. “Damn, you are so big, Bear! So wide!” “Yeah, buddy! But I think I’m still not as tall as you were.” “I think you might be right, but man, you have to understand what it’s like to be looking at you like this.” “Like this? How about like THIS!” Mike stood up. Greg was staring into the bottom of Mike’s thick chest. Greg got instantly hard again. “Yeah big man, that’s definitely it. Damn, your arms are the size of my head!” “Yeah, they are”, Mike brought them up for a big bicep flex which took Greg a moment back, “but I think it’s time for me to find out just how big I’ve grown in the shorts, know what I mean?” Mike dropped his hands to his gym shorts and underwear, shoved them down, then kicked them away. His cock was starting to rise up. Mike had been below height, but about average on his dick. Now, having grown almost 20% bigger, his cock was also bigger in proportion. “Greg,I think it’s time to bury this big cock somewhere, little buddy!” Bury it somewhere before it’s too big for you to take it anymore, Mike thought to himself. Greg looked at the 9” cock in front of him, seeming much larger than he would have taken it just a day ago. “Yes Big Mike! Let’s go for it!” Greg opened an end table drawer next to the couch, pulled out a bottle of lube. “Go for it big man!” Mike threw the cushions from the couch onto the floor in a pile, and pushed Greg, surprised, down onto them. Mike was forceful, but never this much, when they’d played around before. “Flip over, little man. I want you face down.” Greg turned over as the big, naked, musclebear squirted some lube into his hand, then onto Greg’s hole, and his own cock. Mike’s 9” cock slid easily into Greg’s hole, and his arms readily reached around Greg’s chest from behind. Mike was surprised that Greg wasn’t a tighter fit, but remembered what a size queen Greg was, for both toys and men. Even at this size he wasn’t really tight, but Greg was definitely having a good time. It wasn’t bad for him, but he had tighter, and bigger, plans. “Buddy”, Mike said,”This is great, but how about you give me whatever another six inches of your height and strength are?” “What? Mike, you’re already inside….wowowohhhh fuuuuuuuccccckkkkk!” As Mike kept Greg stuffed from behind and held across his front, Greg felt what seemed to be Mike’s cock growing inside him, bigger every moment, and pulsing differently as Mike pumped his ass, alternating with twitching his cock inside the smaller man’s butt. Mike only grew an inch or two from this new “gift” of Greg’s, but to Greg, the world was getting a lot bigger. In one specific way, the way he was wrapped around what seemed to him to be a steadily growing cock, Greg’s world was getting just a little smaller. “Yeah, that’s it Shrinking Bear, getting tighter all over my cock, just what I wanted! YES!” he kept slowly pounding in and out of Greg’s ass, his now smaller body tight around his cock. “YES! Just what I fucking wanted! Pounding your little, tiny ass, Shrinking bear! So small now!” Mike kept pumping Greg, revelling in his size over this man who was now approaching two-thirds his size. He was just as turned on by the feelings in his cock as the feelings in his head, knowing the man he’s pounding right now used to be the tallest man he’d ever met. That idea built and built in Mike’s mind, and in a few moments the dam broke against the moving water-wall of fuck-energy and Mike came, yelling, and Greg came again, yelling in pleasure. After a few moments of both men shouting, Greg coming and Mike shooting inside Greg’s hole, Mike pulled out and they both rolled over onto their backs, momentarily spent and breathing hard. Mike turned his head towards Greg. “Bud, that was the best fuck I’ve had in a long time, and it was all due to your shrunken ass, Small Bear.” “Big man, that was one of the best I’ve ever had!”

Part 2 “Get back here NOW!” He didn’t - to do so would be suicide. That knowledge was confirmed when, glancing back for just a second, he caught a glimpse of her face. To compare it to thunder was an understatement. Her scowl was well-practiced - she was 17, after all - but he had seldom seen such fury and hatred twist those features. Adam could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he ran through house, down this hall, so quick he slammed into the wall, turn, down the stairs - she was gaining on him. Her legs were longer. Through the kitchen he went, and into the yard with his friend’s enraged sister just seconds behind him, and on the straight of the lawn that gap would only narrow. Adam didn't stop for the fence, vaulting it in a fluid motion - but dropping the diary as he did so. He could hear the sounds of pursuit dying away behind him - evidently retrieving her property was enough to stop her, but she was far from appeased. “When I get my hands on you, you're fucking DEAD!” But Adam was smiling, even as he thought his lungs would burn out and his legs would fall off. Oh, sure he’d dropped the diary. But the diary wasn't the mark. He arrived at the meet-up point, a copse of trees not far from the house, within seconds. His conspirator arrived no more than a minute later, though it felt like an eternity to the out-of-breath Adam. Tommy hadn't been running - he didn't need to, seeing as Adam’s distraction had worked perfectly. He'd been in and out of his sister's room (securing their real target) while Adam was still racing over the lawn, and now he swaggered up to his best friend, a broad smirk across his face, producing what they'd worked so hard for. An entire bottle of the cheapest vodka money could buy. “To you, buddy,” he said, unscrewing and passing the bottle to his compatriot. Adam gladly accepted, taking too big a swig and scrunching his eyes, choking on the nasty liquor. He was barely 13 years old, and this stuff was like lighter fluid. It didn't stop Tom from joining him though. The bottle was then secreted away in a place only they knew about, to be brought out amongst friends, and saved for only special occasions like the finest of preserves. There was no reason to get caught now, after all, as they surely would be if they imbibed any more. His older sister would figure it out, sure, but what then? It was contraband to begin with, and any appeal to authority would lead to some awkward explanations of her own. It was the perfect crime, and exactly the kind of wicked scheme Tommy cooked up five times a minute. He had the smarts, and Adam… well, Adam had the enthusiasm to commit to many of the more insane whims that popped into Tom’s head. The two of them were inseparable, and the summer stretched out ahead of them full of possibilities as so many others had done. It would be the last they spent together like this. — Adam stood unsure of what to do before eventually leaving the alley. A vague notion of calling the cops was quickly dismissed; there was no victim, no assailants and just one giant bystander with a lame story to tell, one with more and more feeling that he shouldn't stay here for any longer than he needed to. That moment of uncertainty was enough for the smaller man to have made tracks, however, and Adam found himself alone on the street once more - alone with his thoughts, which for some reason dwelt on that summer. The rest of the trek into town was comparatively uneventful, at least for his new sense of normal. As he reached more populated areas he found himself becoming the center of attention, strangers openly staring at him as he walked past. A couple asked to talk to him or for a selfie, and some of those even recognized who he was - an occasion that still blew his mind, and he made a mental note of reaching out to anyone to go tagged him. He knew it would be good engagement, but honestly, he just wanted to be kind back to them - they seemed like nice people. But these were fleeting moments of contact, and all too frequently he was left alone again. He hasn't spoken to Tom in years, so why the hell was it playing out in sepia tinted misery in his head? It just didn't make sense. He wanted to speak to Brie desperately. She was always better at making sense of these kinds of things, whereas he was, again, out of his depth. Good in a pinch with practical things, usually quick instincts, but hopeless when it came to anything more complicated. He arrived at the Airbnb with his stomach in knots, squeezing through the doorway but finding the space inside roomy and airy. As much as he loved his new size and stature, it was spur of the moment trips like this that brought the reality of life as a giant crashing back to him. It was all too easy to take his home for granted, with its high ceilings and custom-made furniture, mostly built by himself and with his own bulk in mind. Here, he was not so lucky. Searching for high ceilings had been easy enough, sure, but there weren't many places that offered furniture that was suitable for someone like him. The bed was two feet shorter than he was, meaning any attempt to use it would have him curled up tightly for the entire night; he would opt instead to camp out on the floor, a prospect he didn't exactly find enticing. Even furniture that technically could meet his dimensions - although it would be low, the sofa could technically match his size. But could it support his weight? He'd had issues with elevators, dentist chairs and other sofas in the past - did he want to risk his deposit? Unlikely. He opted, again, to use the floor. Adam took his phone out - Brie’s team was 6 points clear already with half the game still to play. He would watch it, he'd promised her. But his finger hovered hesitantly over the app. It moves elsewhere instead. “Hey, man - sorry to bother you, but I really need to talk to someone. Do you have time?” Trent’s response came almost instantly. “Always - is everything okay?” — While the two boys had started the summer with a hundred plans, they in truth only had a week of it together before they were split apart. Between different camps, family trips and holidays, they always seemed to miss each other, sometimes by mere hours, whenever they made it back to town. Tom had chased Adam’s mom’s car when he finally saw it pulling down the street, his friend hanging out of the window equally excited to see him. They both had so many stories to tell each other, but somehow the excitement just slipped away once Adam stepped out of the car. Whatever their experiences had been over the summer, one thing was irrefutably different. Adam had grown about four inches - Tommy had not. There was a moment’s silence in which the two boys came two terms with this. Adam remembered looking down at Tom and seeing his expression tinged with - fear? But that made no sense. Tom was fearless, he was in charge, as he was his friend. And then they both broke into smiles, hugged, and began debriefing each other over all they'd missed. A friendship such as theirs couldn't be broken by such a small thing. It was eroded by a hundred small things. To begin with, Adam's size was a boon to their plans. Suddenly, Tom had a whole new set of skills to work with, somebody able to reach higher and lift more. But while this opened new avenues for him, Tom caught himself staring more than once, a sick feeling in his stomach. Adam was suddenly bigger, faster and stronger than he was, and it felt like he was being left behind. This worsened once school began. Adam found himself courted by every sports team, invariably making the cut of every tryout he attended - just as invariably as Tom washed out. And while he still had fun with his friend, and loved him dearly… he couldn't help but think the schemes he kept coming up with seemed… childish. He was still friends with Tom, sure - but he had other friends now from the various teams he was a part of. Friends that looked to HIM to lead the way, who wanted to hear what HE said. Even the adults in Adam's life had begun to talk not just about his future, but his development; his career. There were big things in store for him, if he worked for it. By the time they were 16, Adam had broken the 6ft mark, whereas Tom was languishing at 5’4”. — “So you let him fall by the wayside - or was it he who couldn't deal with your newfound size?” asked Trent. He seemed to be treating the conversation in an even-tempered manner, but Adam was wincing at every turn. This all felt too close to the bone, considering the hell that Seb - and he - had once put the poor man through. “No! God no. We were friends, always had been. But things were strained, you know? Something had to give” “So what did?” Adam studied every pixel of Trent's face on his phone screen, but there was nothing given away. So he pressed on. “Tom didn't like feeling weak, so I offered to help him. I hadn't been doing dedicated lifting sessions for long, but I knew the ropes. I offered to show him, help him to bulk up a little.” “It worked really well at first - Tommy took to it pretty quick, he was eating good and bulking out really quickly. I mean, there was nothing to him, he didn't need to put on much weight for it to show, y’know? Guy was getting strong. Just…” “Just not as strong as you. I know the feeling.” “Dude… look, I appreciate this call, but we don't have to do this. It's too much for you,” Adam said, finally calling out the elephant in the room. “Adam, I know you haven't always been the man you are now - this isn't new to me.” “I know, I know, but… talking about all this… it's the first time I've thought about it at all in a long time,” Adam said. “Well that's not true, is it? You thought about Tom today,” Trent reasoned. “Yeah, but I don't know why,” Adam said, “It’s not like he was there in the alley or anything.” “Are you sure?” “Positive. It's been years, but I’d know Tom anywhere,” Adam said. “Okay - so lifting didn't work for him. I think I can guess where this went next.” Adam nodded. “He did the best he could to catch up. Big meals, protein supplements at first. Then steroids. And like, I'm not judgemental, it didn't take much persuasion for me to take the 852 shot. And it was fine at first, but then… it stopped being fine. Tom was angrier, the little sideways looks he thought I didn't notice became full on glares, and fuck, I wasn't about to take shit from him. As far as everyone else in my life was concerned, I was the fucking king!” “You fought?” Trent pushed. “Not physically. Not much. But we said things…” “What things?” “I… I can't say…” Adam shook his head, “Not to you.” Trent’s expression softened, “Okay - you don't have to. I know this is a lot. So - was that the last time you saw him?” Adam shook his head. — When the text came through, his body had acted on autopilot; those good instincts kicking in again. It had been two months since the fight, but the blow-by-blow had played out in Adam’s head nightly. He wasn't sure how to feel about the news, his stomach the same pit of roiling anger and sick grief as it had been since their last meeting. Tom’s parents were with him, but a perspex window gave Adam a full view of him, hooked up to so many machines. So vulnerable. “His heart stopped for three minutes,” a hoarse voice said from next to him. Tom’s sister. She looked different - she'd been away at college for a while now, it’d been years since Adam had actually seen her. She’d been crying, he could see, but she spoke in small, matter-of-fact statements as if trying to compartmentalize the events she was seeing. “They don't know if it was bad gear or not.” Adam grunted acknowledgment, and turned back to the hospital bed. As we watched, he saw Tom’s head shift slightly. His parents reacted excitedly, as one bleary eye opened. But it wasn't them Tom was looking at. Adam returned his stare. “It'll be okay. He’ll be okay. He's strong,” his sister said. Adam didn't look at her. He kept eye contact with his former friend. “No, he's not.” With a sneer, Adam turned and left

Lets keep it on first page

Incredibly hot story

Soon after Sam and Kurt got back from Florida, they drove over to the barn. “Fingers crossed,” said Kurt as they rounded the bend that led to the barn. To their surprise, not only was the barn still standing, but it was gleaming in the sunlight from a fresh coat of red paint. As they pulled up, Hank came outside in his jock, a weight belt synched around his waist, swaggering like a 300lb Roman gladiator. “Bet you weren’t expecting that, were ya?” he said proudly, rolling his huge shoulders and jutting out his chest. “You did all that in a week?” asked Sam. “Even less,” bragged Hank. What he didn’t tell them was that he used Grindr to find guys to come out to the barn for a paint party followed by muscle worship sessions with him and Joe. Hank never lifted a brush, but when they found out that the old ladder they found in the barn was too short to reach the peak, he had a guy climb to the top, then Hank squatted down, grabbed the base of the ladder and lifted it up. All the guy had to do was extend his arm; Hank raised the ladder up and down to brush the paint on. This repeated movement made Hank’s back muscles roll and mound up thickly. His mighty shoulders bulged out and hardened up. The Grindr guys had a lot of pumped mass to worship once the barn was painted. “Is Joe still around?” asked Kurt. “Oh yeah. He went out for a hike awhile ago. Wait til you see him. Growing like a weed and jacked as fuck. I’ve got him benching 405 for reps. That combo of tren and shakes is really working for him.” As if on cue, they saw Joe coming up from behind the barn. He had on cargo shorts and a hoodie. He stripped the hoodie off as he neared them. His exposed torso V’d perfectly from his broad shoulders to his 8 pack, to his 28” waist. His legs were snaked with veins from his hike. His taut, golden skin shimmered in the sun. Kurt said to Sam, “That is one handsome stud. He kinda looks like you. Sure you didn’t knock anyone up when you were younger?” “Good lord, no.” said Sam. But as Joe got closer, Sam started thinking. “What?” asked Kurt, as he saw the puzzled look on Sam’s face. “Nothing. It’s stupid. It’s not possible.” “Spit it out,” said Hank, listening in. “When I was in high school, I went to spring break down in Panama Beach.” “Yeah?” said Kurt. “When was this?” “About twenty-two years ago. I ran out of money, so I used a fake ID and I donated sperm for some cash.” “No shit?” said Hank. As Joe walked up to them, Kurt said, “Hey Joe, where were you born?” “Florida. Why?” “What town?” asked Kurt. “Panama City.” The three huge men studied the strapping young hunk. His sky blue eyes, like Sam’s. His thick blond hair, like Sam’s. His strong cleft chin. Like Sam’s. The same balloon-knot navel. “It’s not possible,” said Sam, leaning back against the side of his car. “Oh yeah it is,” chuckled Hank. “What was your dad’s name?” asked Kurt. “I didn’t have a dad. I had two mom’s.” “Did they use a sperm bank?” “Well, yeah. It’s no biggie. Lots of people do.” “Do you like watching the weather, dude?” Hank asked Joe. Joe looked at each of them, then his eyes locked up with Sam’s. “What’s going on?” he asked. But as he looked at Sam, it slowly dawned on him. It was like he was looking into a mirror, seventeen years in the future. “Whoa,” he said, crouching down. “Whoa.” He looked up at Sam and said, “Dad?” “We don’t know anything yet,” said Sam. Joe stood up, walked over to Sam, and hugged him tight. Sam hugged him back. Hank watched them, and started thinking about how hot a three way would be, and started to bone. Kurt was having the same thought, and the same reaction. Hank looked at him and said, “Perv.” “Look who’s talkin’,” said Kurt. Meanwhile, Sam and Joe’s hug was turning into a hard, mutual grope. Sam couldn’t believe he was holding the son he never knew he had. The big strapping growing muscle stud of a son. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “We should stop. We gotta stop.” “Yeah, we outta stop,” said Joe, as he continued to grope Sam’s huge back, realizing that he had the same genetics as this massive hulk. “Aw fawk, man. We even smell the same,” as he took a big whiff of Sam’s thick neck. They were both engorged. “Hoookay,” said Sam, firmly breaking up their embrace. “Let’s redirect our energy and go lift.” “Yeah, great idea,” said Joe. “Pump me up huge, Papi.” He and Sam headed into the barn. “Awkward,” said Hank, as he actively edged himself. “It’s amazing. They even walk the same,” Kurt said, as he and Hank watched them head into the barn. “And both have incredibly fuckable asses.” Kurt laughed. “True that. Let’s give them some space. You hungry?” “Always.” “Let’s go grab something. My treat.” “Oh hell yeah,” said Hank. “Then after, I’ll find some guys on Grindr for us to mess with. Use Joe’s pics as bait, then when they show up, they see this.” Hank flexed his arm and watched it ball up into a big ball of muscle. He kissed his peak. “Make them melt just by stripping our shirts off, real slow.” Hank grinned as he continued to admire his own arm. Kurt shook his head. “You know, I’m real worried about your lack of self confidence. Get in the truck.” They took off for town, with Hank spitting chew out the window as they drove. Two hours later, Sam and Joe finished their workout. Joe could hardly move, but he loved it. He couldn’t believe he’d just lifted with a guy the size of Big Ramy, and the guy was his father. Sam was flexing out in the mirror. Look at him, thought Joe, my 350lb muscle daddy, my huge pumped up daddy. Sam turned and looked at him, and saw the look of the young dude’s pure admiration and desire. They both felt a stirring in their loins. Just then, they heard a car pulled in front of the barn. Sam went out to see who it was. The car was a Mercedes-Maybach with Georgia vanity plates that read ‘HOG BOSS’. The door opened, and a huge mountain of a man emerged. He had on bib overhauls but no shirt. As he reached his full height, Sam suddenly felt small. The guy was around 6’11” and well over 600lbs of swollen mass. The end of his thick beard rested on his pec shelf. He was a bull-necked behemoth, his traps and barrel chest straining the suspenders of the overhauls, his hairy delts the size of basketballs, his gutball filling the bib like an oversized globe. Given the license plate on his car, Sam was pretty sure who the guy was, but he wasn’t expecting Hank’s father to be such a giant, hairy bulldozer of a man. He came up to Sam and extended his hand. “You must be the weatherman,” he said, taking Sam’s hand into his. His huge meaty hand not only swallowed up Sam’s hand, but went halfway up his wrist. “My boy told me how you and your buddy took him in, been treating him like kin. Mighty obliged,” said the massive hog farmer, as he shook Sam’s hand absentmindedly. He noticed the surprised look on Sam’s face and said, “He didn’t tell you I was coming’s, did he?” “Um, no,” said Sam. “Darn kid has the mind of a sieve, always has. I’m Hank senior, but you can call me Boss. Everyone else does.” Sam could see why. He could also see where Hank junior got his bravado. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sam.” “Looks like you take good care of yourself,” said Boss, as he continued to pump their hands up and down. Sam’s knuckles were compressing from the vice grip of the huge farmer, whose ropey forearm muscles clenched with power. Boss finally broke his grip when Joe came walking out of the barn. “Well, howdy there, amigo,” he said to Joe, eyeing him up and down like he was an appetizer. “This is…my son Joe,” Sam said. “Yeah? Your son, huh? I woulda guessed you weren’t the kind to have kids, but he sure is a spitting’ image. Good to meet ya, boy.” With that, Boss grabbed Joe by his armpits and lifted him clear off the ground like he was a toy. Joe looked down at the behemoth in total awe. He couldn’t believe he was being held airborne like he was a thirty pound sack of rice, his feet dangling. The big man chuckled at the look on Joe’s face. He sat Joe down on the ground. “You like what you see, don’t ya, boy? How about now?” Boss brought up his left arm and slowly flexed it. Joe’s eyes grew wide as the ham-sized arm swelled up to 33”. “Go ahead and touch it.” Joe reached out and put his fingers on the giant arm. “Oh my god,” as he felt biceps that were 5” bigger than his waist. Boss gave Joe an evil grin, then he flexed his arm harder and it swelled another inch. Joe shuddered and came in his shorts. So did Sam. “Ah yeah. Gets ‘em every time,” said Boss with satisfaction, shaking out his massive arm. “This is gonna be fun.”

I can't thank you enough, MA, for your very positive comments. And those little "touches" were fun inclusions to the story. Your influence from reading many of your really fine stories was very important to me. "AJ & Noah" comes to mind, which definitely shows through with this story's romantic ending.

[A/N: Happy Easter! And in the holiday spirit, I've risen from the dead to put something in your basket (insert Beavis And Butthead-style laughing here). I might as well explain the delay: I've unfortunately been between assignments since September, and when there's nothing I have to do, I don't really do anything. I'm working on getting back into the swing of things, though, and there's probably a 90% chance I'll be back to working by the end of the month. I can't make any promises, but it MIGHT speed up the rate I put out SMM chapters. So, on that note, let's get into... a completely different holiday. Huh.] I shaved for this. Knowing how much more mature and authoritative I look with a mustache just makes it so much worse when it’s taken away from me so my parents don’t throw a fit. Plus, this angle does a decent job of playing up what’s left of my double chin. The upside is that, outside of slightly-less-puffy cheeks, nobody would dare suspect I was any different from the “Casey” that waved goodbye to them on move-in day. That’s also the downside. The gym’s closed today, so I can’t even spite them by lifting heavy, challenging myself, growing stronger, becoming dangerous – I should stop before I get a boner I can’t take care of. But the fact that I can get hard so easily means my testosterone levels are getting higher, it’s getting easier for me to pack on muscle, grow my beard, get an even deep – FOCUS. I really should have just played Stellaris until 30 seconds before dinner. And I don’t even have enough time to fake sick more convincingly; any more waiting and they might call CPS. (Hopefully they’ll hear that my 19th is in a few weeks and hang up on them.) I… I can do this. Sticker: off. Camera: on. They’re clearly adapting well now that I’m out of the house. They’ve taken the padding off the table corners, they’ve set up a cornucopia with actual fruit, and they’ve started using non-butter knives again. (I can’t exactly blame them for the last part, though.) The spread is even a little more reasonably sized, with only 3 pies per person now. Mom leads the too-warm welcome. “Hi, Casey!” I should have prepared for that. “Hello.” “How have you been do…” She looks at the camera with that familiar expression of something being very, very wrong. “Please tell me they were careful.” God fucking damn it, I forgot about my hair. I didn’t see my parents trusting technology enough to do a video call when I got my current cut, but I really should have. How do I… “They were.” That sounded perfectly healthy – thankfully, my parents were so shocked they didn’t notice I was faking it. Allison looks like she’s figuring it out. Better get back to justifying it now. “They were doing a career advancement seminar a couple weeks ago, and they got the best barbers in Wyoming for the part about looking professional. My phone was d–” Oh God, they might actually shit themselves. New lie. “I couldn’t call you for permission before they used me as an example, but I made it out without a single wound.” Somehow, they’re even more horrified – but not at me. Mission accomplished. “Thank the Lord! But next time, please, please, please call us first.” “I’m sorry, but if I shifted in my seat even a little…” I would have been fine, but they already didn’t trust me around sharp (or any other) objects before they barely stopped me from giving myself a double automastectomy. Silence passes over the table before Dad pipes up. “Have you figured out where you got sick?” “Biology class. My advisor said I’m taking too many lab classes to move to online work, so I’ll just have to live with the risk.” “Have you asked for a second opinion?” “I would, but they’re all out of the office for Thanksgiving break. I’ll get in touch on Monday.” “Please do.” They seem satisfied enough to not press further. Now to just let my siblings do the talking and hope everyone is too engrossed in their own lives to ask about mine. ------------------------------------------------------------- It’s great to be back in here. Bodyweight exercises are challenging as I am now, but nothing beats moving an ever-increasing amount of iron around to make me feel like a man. Come to think of it, I wasn’t able to do pull-ups because I didn’t trust the doorframes. Might as well try the bar here. Jump up. Grab. Shoulder blades all the way fucking back. Work those fu– Am I… I’m moving! PULL PULL PULL HIGHER HIGHER HIGHER- Fuck. My back is shot for the next half-hour, but I’m closer than ever to the marker of functional strength, the benchmark for jobs based around athleticism, a sign that I’ll be truly fit – and the farthest I’ll ever be from it. Someone tapped my shoulder. Who coul– it’s Jim. He must have seen my armpit hair and ran over here. “Why are you here on Black Friday?” He’s as awkward as ever, although he’s now shorter than me. “You’re open that day. That’s good enough reason.” “Not even to renew your membership?” “I’ll get there when I get there.” “Your determination to lift and grow even on a holiday… it’s astonishing. It’s intimidating. …It’s sexy.” Oh my God did he just call me intimidating? “What can I say? I’m a goddamn beast.” Did his dick just twitch in his pants? I swear to God it did. “…Sir, please…” “Again, rain check. But your place or mine?” “Mine.” Fuck yes. He’s a weirdo and he might kill me, but fuck it, I NEED to cum in someone. Just need to build my pump first. ------------------------------------------------------------- Describing his apartment as “spartan” would be an understatement. There’s a closet, one white Ikea chair, a mattress, a fridge, a high-quality camera and pop mic (why?), a desk, and not that much else. This guy must LOVE white. “Women hate how little it takes for us to be happy.” Ah, so it’s probably for podcasting. “Nothing wrong with keeping it simple. But the least I’d do is buy a bedframe.” “I don’t deserve a bedframe.” “Why not?” “I was born to serve. Servants don’t deserve nice things.” Okay, this is probably NOT a sub thing unless he’s REALLY fucking dedicated to it. “Those don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Have you ever had someone pamper you?” “I’m…” There’s that “I’ll fill the hole inside me with dick” look again. “…not looking for that at the moment.” “That’s fine. I’ll just give you what you want.” He pauses for a moment, lost in thought. Maybe he doesn’t want to go too hard too fast. “Loom over me.” I’m taller than him now, but I can’t do that just- wait a minute. “Stay there.” I walk over and grab the chair. It’s suspiciously light. Hopefully it can handle 200 pounds of future apex predator on it. I set it down in front of Jim, set one foot on it to see if it breaks, then finish climbing on. From here, I easily have 2 feet on him. (Here comes the fun part.) I lean over and attempt to pin him to the wall – which I can’t do because I dwarf him. I glare down at him. His pupils have gone wide, he’s shaking and blushing, and he’s… I’m not entirely sure he’s hard, per se, but his underwear looks a little fuller. This feeling is addicting. He’s even whimpering and… oh, I see where this is going. He’s stuck a hand down the back of his pants and is starting to faintly moan. God, to think that he actually needs to loosen up for me… “Get me the lube.” FUCK. YES. “Should I get a condom first?” “Do not. I just tested myself on Wednesday and I have a clean bill of health.” That’s enough for me. I step down from the chair and head to the bathroom. This place is just as sparse as before, although he does have a bathtub douche (still wet) and separate shampoo and conditioner (weird to think that he has me beat here). There it is. Back to the be- he’s face down and ass up. I can’t believe he shaves tha– it’s Jim, who am I kidding? He might have a flat butt, but goddamn it, it’s hot for someone to want me to wreck them and he looks good like this. “Rex… please fill me.” I quickly strip, lube, and oblige. My cock tip teases the edges of his hole. Wait a minute – this is my first time actually topping. I’ve given and gotten head, but I haven’t actually fucked someone, felt them clench against me, heard their whimpers turn to moans, left them incapacitated with pleasure in a pool of– I’m… not getting ahead of myself for once. I plunge into his h– CHRIST. I’ve completely underestimated how warm the human body is, his heat only intensifying the pressure of his hole on my cock. And I haven’t even started thrusting yet. There we go; nice and stead– it’s still unreal that I’m actually fucking someone. Time to bury what remains of weak, sexless “Casey”- STOMACH CRAMP. Oh God, I can’t stop now, not when he’s making those heavenly nois- Fuck, I’m getting close. I have to make sure he cums and FAST. Okay, lube up my hands, then- I haven’t needed to only use 3 fingers in months now. Now for some dirty talk. “Look at those twigs. They’re barely even holding you up. I bet you couldn’t open a pickle jar if your life depended on it.” He jerks into my less-plush pelvis. I’m on the right track. “I’m going to open so many fucking jars for you, you’ll just be my little olive slut, won’t you?” …Wow, that was ba- Wait, that made his ass clench? Oh fuck I’m close, gotta make him cum, make him my slut- God damn it not again, I CAN’T--- FUCKING TAKE MY HOT PROTO-GOD CUM AND BE MARKED AS MY CUMDUMP …Is what I was trying to sexily growl. It came out as more of a scream, one that’s probably going to get him a noise complaint. I’ve already collapsed onto him and I REALLY hope his back was just out. “…Was it good for you, too?” “Your raw passion, your primal intensity… I want more. I need more.” I would have loved something like “you split me in half” or “I’m 2 inches shorter from spinal compression”, but I’ll take it. And give it… as soon as I can get hard again.

I have to agree. Usually, I avoid m/f stuff completely, but @expander is such a great writer that it didn’t even matter! If you’re into superpowered, god-like beings, don’t miss this one!

I just finished reading the entire novel and it is really fantastic! I hope you're as proud as you deserve to be, Expander. For those of you who haven't read the book, let me tell you that I rarely make time to read anything longer than a short story. But once I got started on Superstar, I wanted to give it all of my free time. The displays of superhuman strength were definitely a highlight, but this book explores how having that kind of strength could affect a person and those they are closest to. (This story goes way beyond the temptation to be a bully.) Kyle is such an interesting character because of that. We all have competing needs, desires, and temptations that pull us in opposite directions, but imagine what it would be like if some of those temptations had limitless strength and numerous other abilities behind them. Don't let my reflection make you think this is heavy reading. Despite some serious issues, the story feels light and entertaining, and it is totally fap worthy. I will be rereading certain scenes for the rest of my life. Probably at bedtime. I would love to read a sequel to this story set about 16 years later when Kyle and Lauren are dealing with an adolescent daughter and probably more. In the meantime, I'm moving right on to your other full-length novel, Demons. I'm so excited! Keep on writing, especially if you're enjoying it. And seriously... you should be selling these books instead of giving them away. I would happily pay for the pleasure of reading more of your work.

Chapter 2 The first evening of what she later thought of as her journey of self-discovery was a disaster of nerves for Lacey. Did Tait find the note? If he did, what was he going to do? Was he going to tell Kane? She did her best to hide her emotions from her fiance… not that it mattered. As soon as they got home, Kane went back to what he had been doing for months now - nothing but reading and reading on his laptop. Only she had no idea what he was reading. She had tried fair means and foul to find out what he was so obsessed with online, but for the first time since they had moved in together, Kane had locked his cell phone in every way he could. He had password-protected his computer and the one time he had forgotten to lock it, she found everything she knew to look at had been scrubbed clean. No history, no cache, nothing saved. No clue at all. It was eating her alive… and making her doubts grow. Lacey was in the bedroom changing into a nightgown for bed when her phone vibrated a text message. It was just after 7pm. She glanced at the lock screen and saw an unknown number had sent a text. Ordinarily she would have dumped it as spam, but this night. She had to see. Most cautiously, she unlocked her phone and read: 321-555-1234: Hello. I am responding to a note left in my pocket this afternoon. If this is the correct response, please reply with my name and yours. Upon reading the cryptic message, Lacey was confused. It did seem like it was spam or someone phishing at first read. But, the coincidence of knowing about a note in a pocket was too much. She decided to reply as instructed.: Lacey: Hello Tait, this is Lacey Masters. Within seconds a long reply came. 321-555-1234: Hello Lacey. Yes, this is Tait. Forgive the secrecy, but I keep my personal cell phone number very private. Just a few family members and now you. I have puzzled over the meaning of your note to me, but, of course, I am willing to meet you privately. In fact, I was wanting to ask to meet with you alone myself, but the opportunity never presented itself. I am planning to speak with Kane alone but having any insights from you before I meet him would help me to help you both. If you are willing, please come to Kin Khao Thai Restaurant at Golden Gate Park tomorrow at 1 pm. I have a lunch meeting there at 11:30, but after that we can go to the park, take a walk, and talk about anything you like. I will respect not sharing with Kane as long as he isn't in danger unless you give permission. But should he find out, us clearly being in a public place like the Park should assuage some of the fears he showed at lunch. If this is agreeable, please let me know. Lacey sat back and absorbed the reply with a sigh of relief. It felt like a weight every bit as heavy as Tait himself had been lifted from her shoulders. Finally, someone to… just talk to. Someone that could maybe fix this. She returned the text: Lacey: That’s perfect. More than I could hope. I will be there. Tait replied: Tait: Good. If I am not waiting on you, just ask the maitre’d for me. You might want to “dress down” a bit for a walk in the park, despite this being a high end restaurant. I'll be in business casual but still comfortable. See you tomorrow. *** Lacey arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early. She had done as Tait asked and had worn a nice pair of jeans, a white t-shirt, and a jacket. Her choices showed her figure off very nicely but still quite tastefully. She didn’t exactly intend to copy Tait’s simple style from the day before, but what she chose did fit well into that. As usual, Kane didn’t ask why casual clothes were laid out for work after she packed her gym bag. He just looked at it with apparent disinterest on his way to breakfast, and went on to the kitchen. Upon going into the restaurant, Lacey was greeted with the typical hustle and bustle of people who work downtown along with tourists mixing in making the place very busy. She looked around and did not see Tait anywhere, and with his sheer size, he was a hard man to miss. Following her instructions, she walked to the maitre d's podium and addressed the well appointed man standing there. “Excuse me, I am looking for Doctor Tait Holden.” she said. This staff member was certainly more kind to her than the one from the day before - and whether that was because Kane was not with her this time or she was asking for Tait, she did not know. However, at the mention of her future father-in-law, she saw a bit of a shiver go through the man’s face. If she did not know better - the shiver was something akin to fear. The man asked for her ID. Lacey provided it. “Thank you, Ms Masters. Doctor Holden said to expect you and I need to be careful about who is admitted to their private meeting. If you will come this way -” The man escorted Lacey through the crowd and up to a door labeled as a private dining room. He opened the door, and inside two men looked up. One man was so big that even with his back turned to the door, there was no doubt at all it was Tait. The other man was late middle age and quite large and tall in his own right. He was much more thickly muscled when compared to a normal sort of person. Tait made him look like a child of course, but Lacey knew he did that to everyone. Tait stood and smiled broadly when he recognized Lacey. He was dressed quite smartly but very fashionably. Tait wore a sort of classic black t-shirt over a blazer, a fabulous pair of black jeans, and stylish slide shoes. A perfect business casual. The other man was a bit more formally dressed, but wore no tie with his oxford collar shirt and jacket. Lacey heard the door close behind her. As it did, Tait took off his jacket, left it folded on his chair, and came up to her. He took her hand, and again, Lacey felt the same heady flash of attraction as yesterday… Oh My God. She thought. Tait again filled her vision with muscle and sheer scale almost beyond imagination. That t-shirt he had on. It actually had textured fabric that was a bit stretchy and the collar had a zipper where a polo shirt might have had buttons. The zipper was partly open and showed what looked to be inch thick pecs with a valley in between… And all of that was above her head. And his arms… Oh. Wow. His arms. The stretchy fabric hugged it all so perfectly. And then HIS legs in perfect black denim… He was showing off so perfectly. Basic black for a business meeting, but so stylish and comfortable for such a huge man, he could have walked straight into the most exclusive of nightclubs… She felt the heady flash of raw sexual attraction again as he took her hand in his giant one and again kissed it — but she had expected it this time. It was just as strong as before, but she was much more in control of it now rather than it controlling her. She resisted the urge to feel him up this time. “Hello Lacey. Thank you for meeting me here on short notice. We were just finishing up.” Lacey ripped her eyes away from his arms and looked up into Tait's killer handsome face and there was just the tiniest wink. Was that because he noticed her reaction again… or was it asking her silently to play along…. Tait then nodded to the other man. “Lacey, I’d like you to meet Mr. John Lynch. He went to Stanford as well, played football a couple years before me. He is in the NFL Hall of Fame as a Safety, and is the President and General Manager of the 49ers. John and I even played together on both the Broncos and the Bucs, where I took great pride in taking him down a peg or two along with the rest of those uppity guys in Canton. John, this is Lacey Masters, my soon to be daughter-in-law.” Lynch smiled as he took Lacey’s hand. “Don’t let Tait lie to you. I did take him down a couple of times too. And he belongs in Canton too. Will be if I can twist a few more arms. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Lacey shook Lynch’s hand as Tait continued. “Lacey and I are going to talk a bit of wedding plans after we are finished,” Tait said, making her presence alone perfectly believable. “Although, if you are OK with it, I would like to bring Lacey and Kane with me to the workout facility while I am here.” “I’ll leave a message with the staff, Tait. Happy to have you both with us Lacey. Tait said you live here?” “Yes, just across the bay.” “Great.” Lynch looked at Tait. “You two probably have a lot to talk about if wedding planning is in the mix. And I think you and I have taken care of everything we need too. I’ll just take off a few minutes early and leave you both to it. Again, wonderful to meet you Lacey - and don’t buy into all the tall tales he will spin for you. Only about 95% of them are true.” All three laughed, as Lynch released Lacey’s hand, took Tait’s and shook the monster paw. “And don’t you two bring any cake samples to the facility. I have enough guys trying to control their weight without wedding cake pieces lying around. I’ll see you next week, Freight Train.” There was another round of chuckles as Lynch grabbed his briefcase, and left the room. Tait waited for several seconds until he knew that Lynch had left. Then, he embraced Lacey in a hug. “How are you, Little Lady?” Tait sort of heard her say, “OK” as he enveloped her and pulled her in. But what he actually felt was Lacey almost dropping to dead body weight in his arms the moment he closed them. And then he certainly heard words through his t-shirt. “No, Tait, I’m not alright. Not alright at all.” Tait pulled her back to see that her eyes were wet to the point of tears. The emotions were right on the surface - sadness, worry, frustration. Such pain. “Lacey, what is–?” The concern was clearly evident on his face. Lacey interrupted a mix of both embarrassment and sadness coming through her voice. “Oh Tait, I’m sorry for yesterday. I guess… I don’t know. Can you forgive me for acting the way I did? For coming on the way I did. It’s just been so hard these last few months. Harder than I can say, and then there you were - getting Kane to speak more words in an hour than I heard in the last month.” The salty drops began to slowly steam down her cheeks. Tait’s heart exploded for the petite girl. He looked down at her earnestly, powerfully. Had he not been holding her, Lacey swore she would have been physically moved by that look. “Lacey-” he said, “you did nothing to apologize for. Especially not when you are feeling like THIS.” Tait reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief - another one of those old-fashioned midwestern male things he had never given up. He dried her tears from her cheeks before handing her the white cloth. “I was going to suggest we leave, but clearly, we need to stay here for a while.” Tait took Lacey to the chair Lynch had been sitting in, guided her into place, and then pressed a button on a wireless unit. “Can you bring some water please and – Lacey would you like anything?” “Water is fine,” she said. Tait concluded the call to the staff, moved his chair next to Lacey, and sat holding her hand, comforting her. “Lacey, please what’s wrong? What is happening?” Tait asked. The young woman sat dabbing another tear running down her cheek, trying to bring her emotions together long enough to speak. Just as she was about to, the staff came in with water and glasses. Seeing a clearly emotional situation, and being familiar that Tait was a mental health professional, the employee quickly left, pulling the door shut. Then Lacey began, “I… I don’t know Tait. I wish I did. But I don’t. It’s Kane.” She turned to look into the giant man’s eyes. “I need your help. I need your help to hold my relationship together.” Tait sighed and decided it was best to open up to the striking young woman. “Lacey, I think you know that I am not actually here because of work. That is just a formality. I am here because of Kane.” Through her tears, she looked at Tait and nodded as she gathered that from his text. Tait quickly said, “I don’t know what is happening to him. Believe it or not, his golf coach called me and told me something was wrong, and that he was about to lose his place on the tour because he isn’t showing up to play. I asked for lunch with you two to try and gauge him. I can tell something is wrong, far beyond our - I guess normal rivalry - but I don’t know what. I was hoping you could help me. But… no matter what I will do all I can for you and my son.” The heavy burden seemed to rise again, the final piece of what started to lift the day before when she got the text. She was about to not be alone with the secret anymore. “Kane just came home one day several months ago from the gym. Well someone or something came home in Kane’s body from the gym… but it isn’t him. That person who was sitting across from you yesterday is not the man I know. It is as if he is possessed. He never leaves home unless he has to. He just sits and reads on his computer in the living room. Or he will lock himself in the office at home. All day, every day. His phone and computer are always locked. And… Tait, he barely speaks to me. When he held my hand yesterday, that was the first time he had touched me in any meaningful way in three months.” She hesitated before he nodded for her to continue. “This is a bit embarrassing and tell me if it is too much information. But you are a psychiatrist and you said you wanted to know everything. Tait, Kane and I have not had any sort of intimate contact at all, not even a kiss, this entire year. Almost five months now without anything at all even remotely intimate before yesterday. And that was just the intimacy of holding my hand. He has been having these occasional mysterious chats online. He has cut us off from affection, ignoring me…” She again sighed, but it was partly done. If he was going to help, she needed to finish. “Tait. if I didn't know better I would suspect him of having an affair. Except he never leaves home to see anyone. If he does leave, which is almost never, he is gone all day long, but… Dammit, I feel awful about doing this, but I used the find your phone app on him a few times to track him. He is always, and I mean always, in the hills on hiking trails or out at the shore or something. Not anywhere where he could be… I don’t think… meeting up with anyone. It isn’t much that he is gone though. At best once a month. And I’ve asked but he never wants me to go with him when he is doing that. He barely will go with me to the grocery anymore, and that lunch is again, the first time we have been out to eat for anything all year long, I just don’t know…” Her spilling words of anguish drifted off to a tearful silence as the beautiful, normally powerful lady was reduced to a mass of pain. His handkerchief had become stained with the small amounts of makeup that she wore. Tait looked horrified, shaken, at these revelations. What the fuck is wrong with my son, he wondered to himself. Lacey gathered her strength and continued, finished. “Tait, you are an extremely good looking man. So strong… and I don’t just mean physically. Though you are. I see so many things about Kane in you. I saw so much of the Kane I love who is gone right there in you. Little things that make me smile that I know now where he inherited them. And on top of that, you have other things just physically that attract me to a man that Kane doesn’t. So, when you touched me after all this time with no physical contact with anyone… without having those parts of Kane that I love so much…I became intoxicated by it. I guess you could say that touch is my love language, and Kane has cut me off. His companionship… he has cut me off. It’s like I live with the Grim Reaper. You didn’t cut me off as strong as you are, confident. I guess… The confident man I thought Kane used to be and more. I became attracted to that and craved it. So badly attracted that I made a fool of myself.” Tait jumped in immediately, “Nonsense. Don’t you ever think that way. You didn’t make a fool of yourself. Now that you have told me this… you did what anyone would do. Better and more controlled than most people ever could truth be told. LOOK AT ME.” The power of Tait’s words acted as if he had grasped her chin and pulled her head to focus on his eyes. “YOU ARE A LOVELY, STRONG WOMAN. A SUPERIOR WOMAN. In mind and body and spirit. All of it. And you are in pain. You reached out for support. You called out for help. There is no sin in that. In fact, that is yet another strength of virtue in you, not vice. I certainly take no offense - then or especially now.” Tait focused on her more, but she saw a shift in that powerful look. Across his monumentally handsome visage came a sight of his own pain. Pain she saw yesterday when he spoke of Kane’s mother. “And… part of your reaction was me. I’ve no doubt of that. You remind me so much of Jess. Maybe the only person who truly has since she passed. They say that men marry their mothers and… while you are not Jess, you have so many of her best qualities that drew me to her in the first place all those years ago. When you touched me for a few moments - well it was sort of like being with her again. You accidentally touched on my feelings for Kane’s mother. I got intoxicated by that feeling as much as you did with yours. I am trained in this stuff. I should have known better than to allow my own emotions to get in the way of my son and daughter-in-law's needs. So it is me who needs to beg your pardon, not the other way round.” At that revelation, both sat quietly for a moment. Lacey just looked at him while he looked across and down at her. There was something there between them. Both of them felt it. There was the love they both had for Kane, and there was the love Tait had for Jess, but something else… something familiar that was yet unique. Just a seed. But it was unique and new but familiar and old. Both instinctively knew what it was, but shied from it. They could not acknowledge it. After what must have been a full minute of silence, Lacey finally said. “There is no offense where none is taken. I will accept your apology, but you are only a stronger man in my eyes now. But Tait, I have to be honest. Fully honest. The stress of it all. Kane is like - he is so obsessed with whatever it is. And he will not give me one peep of a hint. But being so starved for simply companionship. I… I can’t take this much longer. I love him so much Tait, but I have found myself wondering about leaving him for someone else. I guess that initial feeling I had for you and acting the way I did proves it. I would have… done something terrible if you were not you and he was not right there. Tait, I can’t live like this. Not forever. And feeling caring from you yesterday… It just reminded me of who Kane used to be. I don’t want to leave him. But one day soon I will not be with as strong a man as you are, as honorable, and I will feel even worse and I will weaken and I… I will betray him in a moment of just wanting to feel human and loved again. I know it. I don’t want it, but I can’t stop it unless Kane does. And I’ll leave him, even though I don’t want to leave him… Can you help me, Tait? Please help me get my man back.” Tait smiled at the young woman, a warming, powerful smile. A smile that immediately boosted the spirit. “My son and his fiance are in trouble. I was raised to take care of my own, to help my own, and you both are that. As much as Kane is my own, so are you now. OK? I will do ALL I can to help. ALL I CAN. Do you understand me? “I will work on Kane, of course, but I want to help you too. Privately, one on one if you want. We can even have some “formally” informal talks that are sort of like professional sessions I have with clients. Or I can just be a safety valve for you or I can be both. Just like this. You have so much stress, Lacey, you are almost to the breaking point. You just told me that. What you said was happening would have happened to almost anyone a long time ago, and the fact that you have not left yet - my son has no idea of the caliber of person he has. “You need anyone to talk with. I am here for you. Any time, day or night. I can’t formally work with you as a client, as that is unethical. But, I can help you as a friend - a friend and family member who has a LOT of training by the best minds locked up here in mine. I want to help you… become who you were meant to be. Just like I said yesterday. Who are you, Lacey Masters? What do you want? Where are you going? If it helps to sort out your feelings or direction in life or just a shoulder to cry on or a new TV show you binged you need to share about. I am offering - if you are willing. But rest assured - I am here to help Kane, and we will find an answer. OK? You are not alone anymore.” Lacey smiled through her tears. “Thank you. I can’t say how much I am. How… How long are you staying? How long do you have?” “Don’t worry. Let me take care of that. I will stay as long as it takes to help you both fix this if it can be fixed. Or to help both of you individually find your way if it cannot. I have… well a LONG time in built up paid leave. A very long time. And I will spend every day of it right here if I need to. I have a proposal to make along those lines. Will take Kane saying yes of course, but if he does and you do, I can stay for quite a while.” Lacey’s tears stopped and she slowly smiled. “Then is it too bad to ask if I can hug you again? And no feeling your ass and slipping in notes this time?” Tait laughed hysterically. “Baby girl, for you, that is one question you never have to ask. Consider me always wearing a “free hug” t-shirt.” Lacey laughed herself as Tait again said the perfectly charming, corny, disarming thing that just lifted her mood. She threw herself into Tait’s arms. The giant man closed the massive peaks and forearms around her tiny waist, raised up, and lifted the fit woman into mid-air as if she weighed nothing at all. Tait understood her desire now - what it was she was feeling when she felt him. Why he was feeling as if she were drawing strength from him. Because she was drawing strength from him, strength to stay in a terrible place in her and Kane’s life. Lacey was a strong woman - a powerful woman in every aspect of life. And she wanted a strong man to share life with. It was not too far off the mark to say she needed one. An equal. Tait knew he had raised Kane that way - to be that sort of man. But for whatever reason right now he wasn’t. Kane had never been as dominant a force as he was - but few people were. Kane didn’t have to be. Whatever had happened - Kane was slowly drawing the life from her. And she couldn’t lose her life for long before she bolted for her own self-preservation. Tait felt fiercely protective of her in that moment of realization. Until their relationship was repaired, if it could be repaired, Tait decided he would be that strength she needed. The strength she needed to be able to stay with Kane. She could lean on him until she and Kane could stand on their own again… or until she could stand on her own without him. As after the lunch the day before, Lacey’s hands explored Tait in the hug, feeling his strength. His body, his mind. But she understood, in a way, she was making sure this giant man and his offer were for real. Making sure through every sense she had that he was really there and was really going to help. As she did, her weeping stopped all together. Tait felt it, felt the change in her emotions from a sea of black storm clouds to having a small ray of sunshine piecing them. He said softly, deeply, “Go ahead. I am strong enough for both of us until Kane gets through this. OK?” Tait’s words were like magic. Sight, touch, smell, even taste somehow though her lips were far from him - and now hearing the perfect words. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Tait felt her surrender the burden to him - felt the tension leave her and come onto him. He could bear it as easily as he bore her weight. He knew he could and for him it would be a rare pleasure to take care of family like this. They stood that way for a couple of minutes, Lacey releasing months of pent up worry, sorrow, stress. But finally, Tait lowered her to the ground and let go. He could tell Lacey didn’t want to let go… but there were other ways to give her strength and help her at the present. He looked down. “How do you feel about having our first “session” right now? How does a walk in the park strike you? Can’t exactly pass up what passes for a nice spring day in San Francisco can you?” Lacey laughed softly as she looked up affectionately at Tait - not with the affection one would have toward a lover, but with the affection one would have for a best friend and treasured confidant - someone she now had. “How can I refuse the invitation of such a special man?” she said. Tait actually blushed a bit hearing that. Lacey smiled at how much Tait’s blush resembled Kane when he let it out. Tait replied - and though self-deprecation was not typically his thing, he felt it warranted. “There you go, with that flattery again. I am just the man my father and grandfather taught me to be. You’ll understand when you meet Kane’s grandpa. I don’t know if he has told you but we have a tradition in the family of exchanging vows in a tiny family church back in Nebraska. We have for a very long time.” “He told me and truth be told - I rather like the idea of something small and intimate a lot more than the cathedral my mother wants. The way my career is heading - Kane and I will not want material things. And I know you do not allow that to happen on top of it. So, I have come to love the small things, those quiet moments in life. You know? And - It isn’t flattery if it is the truth, Tait. You are a very special man. I can see what Kane’s mom saw when she talked to you.” Tait wanted to say something… something about how much of Jess he saw in her, how much of the powerful woman she was that he fell head over heels for when he was at that Stanford party. But, he thought better of it. Confusing his feelings for Jess with Lacey was not a path he should walk down…. He decided to ignore the comment… except for just a tiny bit. Depending on how you saw things, how she saw things - it was either helping her relax into a very intimate subject or unwanted flirtation. And there was no way to know until he did… As they left the restaurant and started toward Golden Gate Park, told the maitre’d that he would be back for his jacket and to finish up with the meeting room. Lacey heard the man almost fearfully say, “Of course Doctor Holden. Take all the time you need.” Lacey only then noticed that Tait had left his coat and was walking her out in just the amazing t-shirt. She couldn't help but glance at those arms again. Maybe it was just from the most minor effort of holding her in the air but… they looked even bigger. He was right. Those gigantic arms as strong as they are… they are big enough and strong enough to carry the burden for a while. Maybe a long, long while. Maybe he could just crush this thing that's taken hold of Kane in those arms… Tait brought her out of her revelry with a bit of an odd smile. That… smirk, Kane called it. “Lacey, do you mind a personal question?” “You’re my therapist. Every question will be personal.” she smiled. “But no, I never mind a personal question from you anymore.” “This might be a bit from left field but… I take it that on a man you are rather… attracted to arms?” Lacey laughed and turned a bright shade of red. That was the reason for that smirk. She'd been caught. “That obvious, huh?” Tait chucked, “It was hard not to notice. Not that I minded much. So many men in particular think that I am “God’s gift’ so to speak, and how great it would be to look like this. Now, I won’t say that I don’t love it. I certainly do. But it also puts up a lot of barriers. For everyone who feels something from me… they feel as much fear of approaching or talking as anything else. That’s another reason why I do the gym thing with athletes - by the end of a good gym session if I have done my job properly, a lot of that fear or need for bravado to save face with me is gone. They can’t match me… but then again they do not have to. Something I wish I could have passed onto Kane but never seemed able.” “I can see that. You certainly could be very intimidating. I don’t think it is telling you something that you don’t already know from what you just said, but Kane certainly is intimidated by you as much as he loves you. “Now…I admit like I told you in the restaurant… people wouldn’t suspect it when I fell in love with Kane, but on a purely… I guess what would you call it - animal level, I do like strong men. Very strong men. A lot. I like everything in that regard, but an arm is well… pretty accessible. “And you… Tait. Kane showed me photos of you of course. I knew from those and what is just out there online about you that you're a very big man. But - in person. Photos and numbers don't do you justice in the slightest. You're so much bigger and more muscular that I could have imagined. It's hard not to get carried away sometimes. Even when I try not to. ” In response, Tait went one small step more. He held out his arm, took Lacey’s, and wrapped it around his huge forearm. They locked, and he began to escort her side by side, as if they were walking around in a Victorian kind of old fashioned courting. “Then, there you go. No more self-consciousness or doubts. Not where I am concerned anyway. Trust me, I do not judge. Besides, everyone will look at me as the lucky guy with you on my arm… and I doubt anyone will bother us. Like I said before, you feel as much as you want or need. Anytime you just need a reminder that I am here and I am plenty strong enough to help you with this.” Tait chucked, as they both knew even someone armed with a gun would think twice before ever coming close to Tait. “So, I’ll start out the way I start out with everyone. Tell me about yourself, Lacey. Kane has told me a bit about you, but you know we do not talk that often. But that is what Kane sees. Tell me what you see about you. What’s gone into making you, you, walking with me right now… a confident, strong woman who in these times is quite rare…” The older man and the younger woman walked arm in arm through the park, sharing the first of what promised to be many more wonderful conversations…. *** It was just after noon the following Sunday, and the house was empty. And, if you asked him and he were being perfectly frank, Kane preferred it that way. Lacey had gone to the gym earlier in the morning and said that afternoon she was spending time with her girlfriends. In the back of his mind, he knew there would be guys at the gathering too. Kane grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and started making his way back to the couch. He remembered the Spring just one year prior - he would have been right there along with them. Sure, he didn’t quite fit with Lacey’s successful friends, but only one or two people had ever made him anything other than welcome. And Lacey had always been proactive in asking him to be there. But that was before… He sat down on the couch and popped the tab on the can of sugar and carbonation. He looked down at it. And it greeted his eyes again. One of a hundred sites he had committed to memory just to be safe. He felt like… what did he feel like? A jumbled, miserable mess perhaps. He felt awful on so many levels. He felt awful for what he knew he was doing to Lacey. She wouldn’t have… wouldn’t have been that way with his father at the lunch otherwise. She had tried so hard around the house, he knew it. But he ignored it. Not on purpose, but the thing in his mind. It made him care about so little else. And to his shame, that even extended to Lacey. It had taken overt flirting with his father to pull him out of not caring for a few minutes. But it didn’t last. All he cared about was this. And now… now, she was not trying as much anymore. He was treating her like shit. And, he was treating himself like shit. He looked at the screen - I mean, I am shit to be even looking at this, entertaining this. Right? Isn’t this what total shit people indulge in. The trash so bad that people hide it on TOR… But he couldn’t help it. It pulled him back. The feelings he felt when he looked at this, read it… it had to have been the high druggie’s chase. He had never done it physically again, but… he wanted to. Oh he wanted to. Just like the guy told him he would. But that would have been the last disrespect to Lacey. Aw, Fuck. Lacey…Maybe he should just let Lacey go. He loved her beyond imagination, but sometimes you have to let go of the people you love for their own good, so that you don’t cause them pain right? He was sure his father would have a pithy answer to that one but - Jesus FUCK how could he ever speak a peep of THIS to his father… And yet– Fuck, it just pulled him back in. As easy as that. He had lost track of time thinking of everything his father… the fellow at the gym. His father would have been like the poster child of this, the “hero” of it anyway, but then again what was he not the poster child and hero of that was… well… perfect? All they represented, the perfect they represented and were, while he was reading. Reading IT again, temptation to pick and watch another TOR video. It was fucking twisted, how he thought THIS was perfect. But he couldn’t help it– KNOCK,KNOCK… The knock at the door suddenly brought him out of the thoughts. He was startled but he glanced out the window to see an Amazon van a house or two down. Must be that at the door. Odd Lacey hadn’t said to expect a Sunday Amazon, but, then again, no one or nothing ever knocked at their door except for delivery when Lacey was not at home. Her friends knew where she was, and he had no friends to visit. Kane slid the laptop without care to the side of the couch, not even bothering to close the screen. Who cares if an Amazon driver saw something on a laptop. Besides it would be but for a second or two and there was no danger of Lacey returning anytime soon. He rose to get the door. He opened it, but his jaw dropped. Something blocked the doorway. SO BIG, it blocked almost all the daylight. A familiar smell hit him even if the sight didn’t quite register as possibly real. The strangely alluring scent of a Man, a sweat from his childhood. “Hello, Son.” It took that long for Kane’s shocked brain to register that it was a human being looking down on him. One GARGANTUAN HUMAN BEING. Holy Fuck… “D–D–Dad?” Kane managed to whisper. This could not be his Dad. This was a human monster, but it had to be his Dad. The face, the voice, the smell, it was his Dad. And the body… the BODY. Tait looked like a god standing there. And to many eyes, he was. He dressed in only a stringer tank top, a pair of shorts that strained to cover only half his quads, and huge trainers and socks. His skin was tanned and flushed and made him look almost oiled up for a photo shoot though he wasn’t. Small rivulets of sweat ebbed and flowed, seemingly at random but clearly down the deep cleft of his pecs and around his visible teardrop, and assuredly down his barely covered abs. And veins… so many veins. Veins on top of veins, but not in knots. Not twisted or varicose. These veins seemed to be a web of life that made the massive, cut muscled blow up even more, look even more perfect. His eyes fell again to the giant pecs he was staring straight into. They had to be inches thick - that cleft between them, with a dripping waterfall of salt water and scent and it was… so fucking BIG. He involuntarily licked his lips, his mouth dry. He was all so fucking BIG. And so, fucking STRONG. It had been years since he had seen his father like this, but even then he had NEVER been like this. Ever. So big and strong and huge and perfect and do– Everything I am not. Good Lord, so big. Like with that man at the gym that day, his world changed… except His father made the man at the gym look positively tiny– Tait smiled down, seemingly oblivious. He answered jokingly, “Last time I looked I was your Dad. I was on a long jog, and I just decided to take a run up this way. I’ve never seen your house, but when I saw the address was within range of my running, I followed google and here I am.” Tait said. The statement interrupted Kane’s almost worshipful adoration and awe, but the young man was still staring, taken aback at this sight. And above, Tait was looking down, reading his son. Tait may have seemed oblivious to the effect he was having, but he wasn’t. It took little of his training to read his son. ANYONE could read this reaction. Tait just wondered why. He had never seen this before from Kane. What Lacey said made sense. Kane… was well.. He was many things. He was shocked when he should not have been. There was… what was that look? Was it– Couldn’t be. Then under it - the emotion was just as clear as the shock. Tait had seen it since his son was still in diapers. Kane… was afraid. Not scared, not intimidated. He was afraid. Afraid of something, and so far as Tait knew, Kane had never been afraid of him in his life. And - there it was, that something else again. When he looked back to his chest. It was beyond shock. If he didn’t know better, he was sure it was desi- “May I come in?” Tait said, not giving away what he was receiving from his son. “I took a chance that Lacey would not be here, since she said she usually went to the gym this time of day, and I don’t see her car. I think it’s time we had a talk - and in a place where there is no chance of being overheard.” Tait knew he had one chance at this, and he needed some ambush tactics as an ally. That was why, in truth, Lacey had told him to come at this time, and that she would be gone. Kane wanted to tell his father no, to go away, but how could he? It was his father, after all. He had done nothing wrong. They had left that lunch on better terms than in months, since this… this all began. How could he be that rude? And that tone - Kane knew it. The subtle hint of command. Tait wasn’t going to take any sort of no for an answer. He was going to come in, even if Kane had said no. No one told Tait Holden no - not with that tone in his voice. Sure, it was a suggestion, but the way he imagined a specialist telling you that you needed chemo to live was just a suggestion. Kane stepped back and said, “I guess. Come in Dad. I guess - I guess we need to clear the air.” Kane turned around and then saw the laptop. Oh shit. Has he seen? Well, his father COULD NOT see that. Not dressed the way he was. Not with Kane feeling the way he was. Not with his Dad in such a commanding mood. Then he realized…Had he just been drooling over his own father!?! Goddammit. His father wasn't stupid enough not to start putting pieces together - and Kane could not allow that to happen. His father and Lacey and his whole family would hate him in a moment– As fast as he thought he could without drawing even more attention, Kane made his way to the couch, shifted the screen away from Tait, and closed to the lid. Thank fuck it wasn't that video he was thinking of playing or a chat but just a wall of fiction on a story site. He looked up at Tait trying to hide his apprehension - Tait didn’t seem to notice, but… then his father moved to sit on the couch. Kane tried to hide his panic… Oh fuck, Fuck, FUCK. His father signaled for him to sit next to him on the couch. Tait didn’t seem to be giving off any other vibe than what he did at the door, but what if he saw, what if he knew. What if - No, play it cool until I can't. Like with Lacey. If he asks just a weird porn he was gonna shut off- Tait interrupted Kane’s spiraling thoughts by looking into his son’s eyes in an odd way - a way that no one except an uberhuman like his father was capable of. Like his father could look right into his soul, into the very thoughts in his brain. NoNoNoNoNo “Kane. I am not gonna bullshit you. I think you know I am here for a reason right?” Kane slowly nodded. He must have seen, Kane thought. Kane blew out a breath as he waited for the Sword of Tait Damocles to fall. “Son, I got a call from your golf coach - or is he still your golf coach at this point? Matty, he is worried sick about you. He told me all of a sudden you’ve become a shut-in. There is talk of dropping you from the tour. And then I come here and I see you acting like you did at lunch. How you look sitting here right now. It’s like life itself has been drained from you. You tried to hide it at lunch, but I know you too well. I don't know what but I can see it all around you. “And then there is Lacey. Jesus Christ son - she is worried sick about you.” Kane flashed a bit of anger for a moment. He felt violated. By his girl of all people. He felt like Anakin Skywalker seeing Obi-Wan Kenobi standing in a doorway saying Let her go. And…it was an opening to gaslight his father away from the computer. “Dad, did you see her behind my back? What did she tell you?” he asked, letting the anger show. But it didn’t last, as Tait met that anger with his own MUCH more powerful version. “Matty, don’t start. Because you are doing the one thing that I will not accept. The thing that will torpedo your whole life. The thing I did to your mother. Taking Lacey for granted. I don’t care what you do or don’t learn from me but that is ONE THING -” Tait took a breath, calmed slightly. But just slightly. “She reached out to me because she is desperate. Not because she hates you or is attracted to me. SHE LOVES YOU BOY!! She begged my pardon for lunch. She was scared she scared me away from trying to help you. “But damn it, Son… She is gonna leave you. She doesn’t want to. Fuck boy, she loves you maybe even more than Jess loved me. She loves you every bit as much and more as I have ever seen any woman love a man. But - if you keep treating her like this, she is going to leave you. For her own sanity, and if you don't see it, you're pushing her to it. “What did she tell me? She begged me for help. Help for you. She doesn’t have a clue what is happening. But you… Matty, you don’t even touch her. And she is too much like your mother - she will not just sit here and wither away. You got damned lucky to have a superior woman love you. A great career. And a heart and soul ANY man would envy having at his side. I sure as fuck envy you in that. But you’re gonna blow it all - You changed… in a minute. She said like you're possessed by a demon that isn't the man she met. I care about you both way too much to just let this fall apart for the two of you without a fight.” Kane almost scoffed. “Why do you want to fight for me Dad? Why?” “Because I LOVE YOU.” “Really Dad? You didn't look much like you loved me or wanted to fight for me when you were letting Lacey feel you up. Looked like you were fighting for you.” Tait’s eyes flashed again. But it wasn't with anger. Not this time. It was pain. Few people knew how to truly hurt him. One of them sat in this room and just did. “Everything I've ever done was for you and your mother. Everything. And that… that was fucking stupid of me and I'm sorry Son. So is she… She hadn't touched a man in months. And me…” Tait took a huge breath as he looked away. “You wanna know why I became a psychiatrist. Really know? Really want to know why I stopped playing football when I could have made a hundred million more and become a legend? Just one reason. One.” Tait’s low, usually soothing voice morphed before Kane’s ears into something he had never heard before. Ever. He had heard his father from happiness to anger to sadness to anguish… but he had never heard pain-driven rage. Barely controlled rage. Rage at the world or God or fate for taking her before her time. His fathers voice was now a terrifying low growl. Kane had a split second flash that the only people who might hear this sound would be someone who had hurt or killed him or his grandparents. Kane became afraid of his father hearing the growl - that his attempt to divert had veered into this… a monster he hoped he would live to never see again. “I - promised - your - mother. That's why. I - promised - your - mother - on - her - grave...” Tait’s anger became so strong that his eyes misted as he remembered. That grave just a few miles away. The giant man kneeling there on the fresh earth. His words became even colder, deliberate. So strong, frightening that Kane almost pulled back into a ball, ready to try and run. Tait's eyes drilled into his son’s. “I promised her AND you kneeling on that… that fucking coffin that I would do anything, give up anything. Whatever it took so that you would not lose another parent's love. That I would love you enough for the both of us. That you'd feel her even if she wasn't… wasn't there. “I promised her that I would help you through it all. Only… I looked at you and I didnt know how. I DIDNT KNOW HOW. For the only time in my life, I didn't have a clue how to start helping myself. Much less you. But that was my last promise to her and by heaven or earth or hell itself, I was gonna keep that promise. “So… I quit. I did what I was going to do when your mother became pregnant. I quit and I turned to the one thing I could think of that would help me learn how to help you, Matty. That's why. I changed my whole life for you. I stopped letting my body take that kind of beating. I went back to college as some famous pro-baller. I ducked and hid and did more than I'll ever let on to even you… Just because I needed to help you. You are the best thing I ever did. You're the piece of her that will go on. And I did learn to help - I think I did, at least when it comes to mental health. Even if I messed up with you sometimes. I dedicated whatever time and resources I had left to me to protect and help you. I told you all your life - I take care of what's mine. And you're MY son… “And after all that, you think I'd want to steal away your girl? Really? After all these years you think I'm not capable of finding a woman on my own without going after yours? That I'd violate the rule I live by that means the most to me? If so… then I totally fucked up the only think left of her that I could ever do. And I guess you could take some satisfaction that you broke me when not even your mom dying could…” Kane looked totally ashamed. He had no idea… how and why his father had changed his life. He looked up at Tait, the anger breaking. “I didn't know, Dad. I didn't realize...” “I know you didn't, Matty. I never intended to tell you. It was just… I hoped you knew how much I loved you anyway without the why’s like that. Everyone else seems to know. Everyone I work with. The family. Even Lacey could see it and we just met face to face. I'm… I'm just not that good at showing YOU how much I love you. It's how a man is with his son. Don't forget that I’m an only son too. The only son of a very successful man and grandson of another. Just like you. You may not think it, but I know what it's like to be you. In all the ways that matter anyway. You'll understand with your own kids one day that fathers - when it comes to our boys we don't always show love by what we say to you. We will dote all over our girls. But our sons… We show love to them by what we do for you and with you - things that you see sometimes but other times we show our love by things you never see. Just like - Son I know you're Kane and that's the name you use but right now, in times like this, you're Matty to me and always will be. Tait took another deep breath… Time for another confession. “Son, you have your golf coach because of me, at least indirectly. I called him about you. Call it using my position as an unfair influence if you want. Maybe it is. But I love you and when you showed your talent, I wanted to do what I could. Now before you get too angry, I didn't pay him off to make him take you on or anything like that. “Remember when you were having a hard time finding a coach that could work with your schedule just before you graduated?” Kane nodded. It was the devil to fund a coach who could fit him in. “I was just gonna ask him for some names that I could give you of coaches you could look into. Someone you might have missed. But, when I asked, he chose to come and evaluate you himself and saw your talent and he chose to take you on. You did it with your own talent. It was all you - don't ever doubt that. It just started out as me asking someone you couldn't contact for help. To help my son. I just wanted to use the people I know to give you some names to help and there you go. “And now, I want to help you and Lacey. Help you both with what I KNOW about. “Matty, I loved Jess more than you can possibly know and that I can never explain. Will never even try. Same as Lacey looks when she thinks about you and the confusion and pain she is in right now. Told you… she reminds me of Jess more than you know. I know you never believed that from the attention I got and keep getting from women. You were around enough as a kid to see how some athletes lived with the attention. Saw it in college too when you were there I suspect. But I really would have given up everything for her and you. Gone back to the ranch and never even lifted a weight outside of calves and feed if she asked me. But she said no. “YOU - Son, you are the very last piece of her I have. I promised her when we got married that I would fight for her and you. I can’t fight for her anymore except through you. And to see you — you actually have the chance to know and feel with Lacey what I felt with Jess. I want you to understand that feeling - this feeling. More than anything. Having it for just one day is something you can't imagine, and I had it for almost 10 years. And even with how much I miss her everyday - everyday with that missing her was worth it. Still is. I've dated, tried. More than a few since I got out of residency. But no one comes close to Jess. But your chance now. To know the only woman I've met since your mother who does come close. And she wants you. And it’s dying - and it's like you don’t even care. “LET ME HELP YOU MATTY. Let's fight for this OK? Let's fight together so you can be who you are and be happy. If that is with Lacey or without OK. But don't look back and regret that you don't have her because you didnt fight for what you have.” Kane’s cheeks were wet now, trying hard to control open sobs. His father hadn't talked to him like this since his mother died. And it didn't make sense then. He just remembered it. How strong his father was trying to be for him… Strong. He saw it in his mind’s eye for a second. The whole hours-long event flashes before his eyes in vivid detail before he could stop it. The man at the gym, what the man said… what he did. What Kane felt and did and said… NONONONONONO. Kane’s walls fell. He forgot about whether his dad saw. The dam began to break, “Oh God, Dad… I don’t know. I truly don’t know. I'm sorry.” Kane was perfectly honest and he lied at the same time. He answered questions and replied to revelations spoken and asked and unspoken. He understood. He knew, but at the same time, he didn’t know. It didn’t make sense, but it did. It - the MAN - Lacey… it was so reprehensible but felt so good. “It’s just.. Aw fuck it.” Kane let loose with an open sob. “Everything is so messed up Dad. Everything feels so wrong. I want what you just said you had with mom. More than anything. I love Lacey with all my heart but…” Kane trailed off as voice fully turned into sobs. Tait reached out and immediately pulled his son into a massive embrace. He felt his son immediately go limp in his arms. Just like he had when he was a little boy. Just like Lacey had. Just like Jess had when she told him she was expecting. Jesus, Tait thought. He is fighting… something. Fighting it so hard. No wonder he is withdrawn. Is it what I – Kane had tried to hide it, but he caught just a glimpse. That website he was reading. That is a HUGE leap to take but… Tait hadn’t thought anything of it at first. Everyone reads some risque stuff from time to time. But, what if it is WAY more than curiosity. OH SHIT. Tait tightened his grip, pulling his son in closer. It was instinct - his promise to Jess and to his little boy the very first time he held him in his arms. He wanted to protect him. He promised— Tait felt Kane’s hands – FEEL him. For a split second. That wasn’t what hands do in a hug. At least a normal hug. That was like - that was like how Lacey felt him when she hugged him. Not nearly as long, not in a sexual way. But those hands were FEELING him nonetheless. Like - his son needed to feel his strength for some reason. Could THAT really be the reason? Surely not. Surely, he would have noticed that by now. At least some tell or some indication, but there wasn’t. Never had been. Or maybe he had been blind to it all along. No wonder Kane was messed up though if it was THAT. Still holding his son, Tait said, “Go on, Son. You can tell me anything at all. No matter what it is, you know I will never think less of you. Never.” Kane pulled his head back and looked up at his father. “I can’t. I don't know Dad. You might-” “Stop it Son. I have always accepted you. No matter what. Go on.” Kane blew out a breath. “PLEASE - don’t tell Lacey any of this.” “You have my word, Son. And you know what that means to me. Privately and professionally. Especially now.” Kane looked into his fathers eyes with agony across his face. Terror. About so many things. “I love Lacey, Dad. I really do - but… there is this feeling I have found. I can't even put a word to it. I don’t know what it means. I am trying so hard but… Dad, it scares me to try and put words to it. That makes it real. It is real but maybe if I never name it it isn't truly real. I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know how to even tell you what it is. It's like trying to tell someone blind what blue is. I just don't know. And I am scared of what it means if I ever can. It changes everything about me. It is so new… but it is so old. Dad, I don’t know if I am strong enough to face it. Everything it can mean.” Tait pulled back from the hug and let his son go, gently setting him down close beside him. “It’s OK. Matty. Profound changes, if this is what this is, can be scary. Crazy scary. But, if you are willing, I want to sit down with you and take this journey with you. To help you figure this out. Help you get on the right track - no matter what that track is. One baby step at a time if it takes it. “Son, I am going to be totally honest with you about what Lacery asked. Lacey has asked for and accepted the same offer I just made you.” Kane almost voiced something but Tait continued, “I know what you are going to say. That I can’t be your doctor. It is unethical. Let me finish. I can’t practice with my family, that's true. I will tell you what I told Lacey - this is not a doctor-patient relationship. This is me - your father - helping my son. Just like I am Lacey’s future father-in-law and friend helping her. Yes, I am trained as a doctor and there are some things that I will bring from my training and experience into this if you accept. On the other hand, since this is not medical care, there will be some things that I will not do, and there will be some things that I would never do with a patient that I will feel free to do with you if we need to. Things that sometimes would make things go so much quicker and better. “But, confronting this truth will only change my feelings about you in one way. Accepting difficult truths will only make me respect you more, not less. Love you more, not less. Always remember that. OK?” Kane thought and measured for a moment. But then he slowly nodded, “OK, Dad. I trust you when you give your word not to tell her. I just want to do this when Lacey isn’t around. Like now.” “Deal. Easily done. That is what will happen for both of you. This is as individuals UNLESS both of you agree to do something together. And even then you will share with her and vice versa. I will never share what you share with me without express permission, and only then what you tell me. Just like she told me I could tell you that I'd be helping her if I thought it might help you. And I also give you my word - I will stay in San Francisco as long as it takes to help you both. In fact, if you both are willing, I will check out of the hotel and stay in your guest room in the basement for a while. Privacy when you two need it, but right here when either or both of you need it. What do you say?” A hint of a smile came across Kane’s face. “As long as Lacey says it is OK, and we have that guarantee of privacy if we need it… then, OK Dad. I am willing But we need to ask her.” “Alright son. I am looking forward to it. We will start our sessions together as soon as we want.” Tait decided to push the conversation in a certain direction… just a hint, to see if what he saw on the website Kane had open was possibly related. “When you said you didn’t know if you were strong enough to face it. If it is a help, I think you are. You are stronger than you ever suspect. That being said, if you need to lean into me for a while…” Tait then held up his massive right arm and flexed it. “I think I am strong enough to handle it for both of us for a while. I said I would give you a closer look when we had lunch and I did it for Lacey. She is a girl and that's kind of important, but she barely knows me. You've known me all your life. What do you think?” Kane’s jaw dropped as a mound that looked the size he imagined Everest must look like exploded into existence. No - not Everest - the fucking Matterhorn. It is so big and peaked and strong and… his father really did make the man at the gym look like a fucking dwarf. Which must make me look… positively weak and miniscule and pathetic and… Kane remembered at that moment a vivid image and feeling of looking up from waist high to this powering figure of a god. Like a comic book superhero. And the man was looking down at him… smirking. Shit, So big and strong… At that moment, Kane remembered when his father called him his little man. And - something inside him, then as now, kind of liked it. Tait used his skills to examine his son closely. Several emotions were crossing Kane’s face - not all of them simply shock at his new muscularity. He didn’t know precisely what those emotions were - they were a mess of a mixed, twisted jumble of conflict, that much was clear. But, in a split second, Kane tried to bury them… but they were still not quite gone. “Ahhhh…. Ya…. Dad. You were always pretty big and strong. I guess you still are.” Then Kane did something neither he nor Tait ever thought would happen until that moment. Kane’s hand flew forward and rested on the giant rock of living granite - much as Lacey’s hand had earlier in the week. Feeling. “But I don’t ever remember you being this…” Kane’s voice lilted just for a moment before he said almost in a whisper, “this big and strong.” Tait pressed on just a bit more. “Thank you, little man. I for sure am trying to be. Go ahead, maybe you can judge for me if I am improving the way I think I am while I am here. Be my biased, unbiased eye on my growth. I will help you grow in answering this question and you can help me grow too. Maybe a little more literally but still growing. But you know I am reminded of something. Keep your hand right there for a minute.” Tait began to flex and unflex his arm under Kane’s hand. Up… down. Rock… not. Power… softer. There was a flash of a dreamy expression, almost a slight hypnosis. Kane was utterly taken in by what his senses were telling him. “That’s it. Just like that. You remember when you were wrestling. Did you or one of your opponents or teammates ever get hard during a match or at practice? You remember?” There was a moment of shock on Kane’s face, but it faded as quickly as it was there. His mind focused on his father’s arm, watching. For a second he focused on his dick. Was he hard… like he was with the man at the gym? His body told him no, he wasn’t. He had not given it away. The traditional blocks about such things with his father, thankfully, were still there. Kane tried to pull his hand away, but Tait raised his free hand and forced Kane to keep feeling. “No son, keep feeling and answer the question. There is a reason I asked.” Kane then answered, “Ya Dad, it didn’t happen a lot but it did happen several times… both to me and guys I know and saw in matches.” “I know Son. Now, let me ask, did that response mean that those guys were gay or bi? No, it didn’t. Almost all the time, such a thing is simply a physiological response to close contact or touching. Or with some it means that they were excited by dominating an opponent… or you and putting that little ass of yours in its place. OR maybe you felt it putting someone else's ass in their place.” Tait then looked down at Kane. “Son, our feelings are NEVER cut and dry. In that way they are like bodybuilding and powerlifting. Sometimes, our feelings are exactly as they seem. Sometimes that bodybuilder really is as strong as he looks. Like I hope I am.” Tait smiled. “But just as often, if not most of the time, those feelings actually point to something entirely different than what the surface seems like or what society might say they mean. “Just like that wrestler who gets hard might be gay, or he might be straight as an arrow, but loves dominating an opponent and the physical stimulation it takes to work your will on a mat. Just like there are many bodybuilders who are weak as fuck though they are huge, and there are powerlifters who are your size who are twice as strong as guys who outmass them by 80 pounds or more. “Whatever it is you are feeling. Whatever we find it means… if it is easy or it is something huge and hard and difficult to overpower that hasn’t even occurred to you yet. You and I are as strong as the strongest muscle - and together we will be even stronger as we face it. OK little man?” Kane was so relieved, as if his father had lifted off the too heavy bar the man had lifted off him at the gym that day… when he failed. He dove toward his father’s exposed pecs and as best as he could he hugged them - and their giant owner. He had not even entertained the idea that what he felt and went through that day with the gym man could mean something totally different than what the internet said it did. That maybe it meant something different… and that his giant of a man of a father would be willing to face it with him. That maybe - just maybe - he wasn’t alone. Lacey wouldn’t understand - how could she - but his father just might and he might help her understand. Maybe it wasn't the end of everything… “Thanks Dad. Thanks for helping me and for facing it with me.” “Always son. Always. You never have to thank me for being there with you. No matter what. Like I said, you are my son and I love you. You may be a grown man, but you’ll also always be my little man. Yes, you are Kane, but you'll always be Matty too. It is a grown man’s job to be strong and to be there for the people he loves. We will be strong for each other and for Lacey when the time comes. I love you kiddo.” For several minutes, Tait and Kane kept sharing the moment - a moment they had not shared since Jess’s death. Loving each other, Kane again learning he could lean into the giant man and he could hold him up. That the giant man would face the world with him - no matter how different they were. And that Lacey might… just might… face it with him too. He wasn't alone anymore. As the hug between father and son went on, the wheels in Tait’s mind were turning. Several times now, he felt Kane’s hands feel him - as if in reassurance. It was not a mistake or isolated incident that he had felt earlier. So strange … so much like Lacey had been when she was feeling his muscles for strength and security. Both of them needed a man’s strength in their lives right now. A proper man. The sort of man his father and grandfather and Jess taught him how to be. The reasons behind that need from both were different to be sure, but they both were in dire need of a man. They both felt so out of control. He could tell. They needed someone to help them feel in control. He was more than enough man for the both of them for all they needed. When the hug pulled back, Tait knew he needed to offer Kane a way out and to be comfortable with what he shared. Another assurance that their relationship hadn't changed except for the better. So he offered that in a way he often did - humor. “Now, little man. I know you are strong but -” Tait reached down, lifted his tank top up and revealed a truly monumental, etched deep wall of abs. Then he pulled back his fist and leveled it into the bricks with a terrifying smash… which only resulted in a loud thwack against the horrifically strong brick wall, “ever think you’ll be THIS strong???” Kane looked disgusted, amazed, and grateful at the same time. That smash would have broken bones on someone else. Kane, however, let loose a broad smile. He took his little hand and gently patted the warm granite bricks. “Fuck you, old man.” Tait chuckled, “Always nice to have goals in life you can never reach. But keep trying Champ.” Tait smiled more widely. “Got anything besides that soda? Growing muscle requires a little better food and I'm starving.” “I can see those abs aren't going to last long at this rate…” *** Lacey’s phone lit up with a text while she was at the park with her friends. Tait: Lacey. We need to speak in person at your earliest convenience. There is something about Kane that I need to share with you - concerning helping him and you too. Things went quite well, I think. But please let me know when I can pick you up - an evening before dinner would be best considering the discussion that needs to be had. Lacey’s reaction was instant.. Lacey: I can do this evening if it will help Kane. He is accustomed to me having dinner with my friends on Sunday before I come home. Can I meet you in the lobby of your hotel at 6 pm? Tait: Fantastic. That is perfect. I will be waiting. Please erase this interchange on your phone. I will send something about you both coming to the 49er’s gym with me in a few moments. The text is true and something we will talk about tonight. But - as part of what Kane needs, he cannot know about this meeting and what we will discuss. Not until it is time to reveal it. See you this evening. Lacey did as she was told and erased the interchange. And sure enough, less than 30 seconds later, Tait had texted about times to meet for them to go to the gym together - a joint message between her and Kane and Tait asking about times. They shortly arranged a time of 11 am the next morning. As long as Kane did not look too closely at a cellphone bill, this interchange would explain messaging between them… That evening just before six, a beautiful young woman came into the lobby of the Four Seasons. She was in casualwear - jeans and a nice blouse, but she was an absolute knockout. A lot of men looked and several contemplated walking up to her - until the giant muscle model fellow who had been staying at the hotel that weekend came up to her. The pair seemed to go together like peanut butter and jelly everyone thought. Of course the rugged man’s man would have such a woman at his side… none of them ever considered that this was a father-in-law and daughter-in-law when Tait leaned down and kissed Lacey's hand as usual. The entire lobby was quite sure… that was only for public consumption until there were more fireworks later. Tait led Lacey up the bank of elevators that led to his suite. As soon as the door closed she was quite intent - “What's wrong with Kane, Tait? I have to know.” Tait smiled, “I don't get the direct approach that much. It's something I appreciate. You might want to sit down when we get to the room first. I promise - I don't think it's life-threatening.” Tait brought Lacey to a set of rooms she was sure had to be more appointed for one of her father’s banking clients or the very wealthy than for someone normal enough to stay here. Once the door was opened, he led her inside, guided her to the very nice couch in the living area, and sat next to her. Then Tait began, “Well the good news is that Matty agreed to work with me the same way you are. The bad news, that wasn't unexpected, was that he was totally tight-lipped about exactly what he is going through.” Lacey immediately looked deflated and the glint of tears just began to highlight her eyes. Tait immediately reached over and took her hand. “No, no. No reason for tears. I know my son. We talked for a long while and the fact is… I have an idea. Like you, he asked that I not share some things and of course I will do that unless his safety is threatened. But we wer3 able to share some things and I hope over time he will truly open up to me from his own mouth. “Now, that said, I need to test to see if my hunch is right. But if it is what I suspect… Lacey, I don't mean to put you on the spot. But, I'll need your help with this. With Matty's version of therapy. Just like you finding out a bit more about who you are, we are going to help Matty do the same thing. For you - it will mostly be a solo thing. You and I talking, exploring of course. But mostly for you, this is a path you'll navigate yourself. You're ready for that. “Matty, though, is different. For him, It will take both of us. And some things that will seem quite… odd.” Lacey looked perplexed. But Tait patted her hand, “Don't worry. I'll explain everything we will be doing over dinner. And I really think doing this will help you as well. “But I want you to understand. You may come to view Kane very differently when we are finished. Like sometimes I see him as Kane, but sometimes it’s Matty. As he may view both you and me differently. What we need to do… Well it is a bit of a risk. Like I said, I'll explain. But if it goes as I think - both of you may be so different that your relationship as you know it might end. Not that your relationship will end, don't misunderstand. Rather I think you'll build a new, much healthier one for you. “Can you be prepared for that? Lacey took a breath. “I guess I don't have a choice do I? At least this way there is a chance we can stay together. If it keeps going the way it is… There isn't any hope. You've already helped me see that. I love Kane. I want to be with Kane. But if I have to go - either for myself or for him…. I guess I will. Tait beamed down at her. “You really are an amazing woman. But let's look at this as a positive. Matty said the almost exact same words to me. He loves you. And he wants you to be happy more than anything. And he wants you to work. Now, what I'm planning for us to do, all you have to do is be who you naturally are. You have a natural dominant personality that will work very well for this.” “Dominant personality? Lacey asked. Tait laughed, “As they say, it takes one to know one, even if you don't fully grasp that part of yourself yet. Part of your self-discovery is making peace and embracing the dominant personality inside you. I certainly had to, and I will help you. Thing is - society loves dominant men but sort of frowns on dominant women. But me… I am quite comfortable around women like you. So no matter what kickback you might see, just know that with me, I want YOU and YOU - and Matty will need it. “Now, just think. Two dominant personalities with the same goal? Nothing in this world stands a chance against us.” “Tait, why are you calling Kane Matty again?” Tait looked a bit sheepish. “Today's talk of a long time ago. Like I said, sometimes he is Kane to me and sometimes Matty. And, I have other reasons. I’ll share, but it's quite intentional. Now, one last thing before dinner and we get down to nuts and bolts. “Because of that natural affinity between us, and what you and I will do where Matty is concerned, you and I will bond in a way that you won’t with him. We have to make sure he isn't jealous of that… except when we want him to be. Because his bond with you and his bond with me will be just as unique. OK? Lacey smiled. “Wow, can you make a girl curious? OK. I'll do my best. But if you and I are dominant… I notice you left out Kane. How does he fit?” “Ah now that is a question. I don't know. But that question goes into the first thing we are going to do to him. It is going to require something he doesn't have large stores of these days. Patience.” Tait opened the door to his room and invited Lacey to again take his arm as they had earlier that week in the park. They walked arm in arm toward the elevator, the restaurant, and their meal. “But your personality and mine are not known for our patience either. Playing ball made me patient. Which brings me to you. Other than our talking, I thought that our first steps in therapy for you might be a very practical one. The invitation to the gym - if you are willing, I don't want to just take you to the 49ers facility. While I am in town I'd like to train you in the gym personally one on one.” They stepped into the elevator and the door closed. “As a cheerleader you know that learning the balance skills, the lifting skills, the choreography of cheers takes quite a while and patience. Building a body is the same. You look incredible, but there is always a new method of training to learn. I'd like to teach that to you and see if you gain things from it… Including patience and some things that might help Matty along the way. As a very practical matter, if I need to change things with what we are doing with Matty the gym alone gives us time to do so. Besides…” Tait smiled and rippled his pecs through his shirt and the effect on Lacey was instant… another hint of what Tait had hidden behind his shirt as what looked in his full glory moved at his whim. “I think I have some skill and knowledge to pass on in that area. Not only in building men's bodies but women's too. What do you say?” Lacey smiled immensely. “I'd LOVE it, Tait. Kane and I used to work out together sometimes… But he doesn't anymore. Little by himself and none with me. We bonded and got so much closer… I miss it.” “Well then, we will make him see just what he is missing. Maybe seeing both of us change will help motivate him to get back. He agreed to help me keep a check on my progress and I intend to hold him to it. And maybe your progress too. We are certainly going to work on his motivation.” Tait smiled broadly as they went to Tait's vehicle. He helped Lacey in and then went to the driver's seat. He cranked the vehicle and began, “Alright. Let me share first what we are going to do with Matty. It is a version of something called exposure therapy. It is usually done with someone who has particular kinds of anxiety or PTSD. WhIle I'm not certain he has that, he certainly shows some signs. And this modification will serve us in other ways …” *** “The Boss isn’t going to like this, Doctor Holden.” James, Tait’s New York office manager, said over the phone. James was a good man about ten years younger than Tait, who suffered an injury that had taken him out of organized sports well before his time. Among many things, James had the guts to stand up to him when he needed to. It was rare for Tait to find in another man, and Tait had helped cultivate it when he found it. Besides, like it or lump it, having a man on the other end of the phone with league officials always seemed to cut some of the red tape. James would often get a lot less flack than his personal secretary when she placed a call over the same exact issue. Maybe someday things in the league might be different… Tait laughed over his cellphone. “Come on. I can be extremely persuasive.” “How well I know. You conned me into working for you, after all. Are you sure about the time?” “Conned? Tell that to your wife.” “Ouch. Low blow.” Both laughed. The pair shared an unspoken double meaning, a secret both shared. “But in all seriousness, I am not exactly sure on the time I need. May be finished sooner, or it may take more time. Depends on how things go. But, I have the time off stored up. Roger knows I will not take no for an answer when it comes to my family. My son and daughter-in-law have a personal issue, and I WILL help them deal with it. He can tell the owners that too. Or I will. “I’ll be available if there is some real need, just like when I go to the cabin. I'm sure the Niners will allow me to use office facilities if necessary, and I will buy tickets out of my own bank account to get anyone truly necessary here if I need to do an in-person interview. It means that much to me. No different than a normal year. Just that my time off is going to start earlier.” “I doubt the Commissioner will risk the wrath of the Union and half the owners not to do things the way you want, Doctor Holden. Would you want an unnecessary call from Jerry Jones or the Haslams?” Tait chuckled again, “What do you mean? I love getting calls from Jerry.” Both laughed at that one. “I have the letter for the Commissioner and your forms ready for you. Should be in your email for your signature in a few minutes. See you at the cabin in August, Doctor. And – Good Luck. You and Kane deserve a good break.” “Thank you. I’ll be in touch as I need things. And if you need anything special besides–” “You know we will have to run that old Triple Tight End play you are accustomed to before the summer is out.” Tait laughed. “Of course. You're welcome to bring her to our little Montana work retreat like always. The creek is always perfect for swimming and fresh fish. Just tell her I'll have had all summer to grow even bigger. It will have been a few months since I will have seen either of you.” Tait snickered over the phone “Remember when she insisted on measuring my arm and it turned out it really is bigger around than your head? Just think… EVEN BIGGER. Have to give you more gym time to keep up, Jimmy.” Then, he said, “Alright. Enough fun. Now get to it… little man.” *** Triple Tight End. It was code between him and James and James’ wife Janet. Stanford was famous for running the triple tight end and quad tight end formations as an offense. Stanford was often called Tight End U around football. Tait had run plays of that design more times than he could count. No one could question it in context… And it meant exactly what it was intended to imply, except when James or Janet said it to him. James had come to Tait’s attention during his last year of med school. As an advanced student. Tait had been asked to take several cases for his own in a very supervised forum. Given Tait’s history and that James had been until the month prior a Stanford scholarship football player, the fit was expected to be a natural. James had done many things for Tait. Their sessions had given the clue that working with athletes was where Tait had a true gift, above and beyond his gift at psychiatry. He had worked with James on a wide scope of issues in those first months together. James was the one and only time where Tait had ever crossed professional boundaries with a patient and had allowed that relationship to become intensely personal. It taught Tait many things about himself, and how to keep detachment, though he never did with James or Janet again. In his interviews, James had voiced sexual concerns in his relationship with his wife. Sexual counsel wasn’t anything new. He had found a lot of players had issues with their significant others being on the road and the time needed. He had had it himself. And after such a significant injury, where self-confidence and physical injury could lead to dysfunction, it became a topic Tait had helped James with at some length. And, as part of this, Tait had occasionally invited Janet along with James into the office for couples therapy when James allowed… and it began there. It was slow, of course. Both of them voiced the tensions to Tait and to each other as their comfort levels grew. Turned out that while everything was there for a healthy sexual relationship, both felt like something was missing. But, neither was sharing what it was, if they understood it themselves. Tait had no idea just how far this missing thing went until one night over a month. A group of senior med school students were out for a dinner party. And while Tait was ALWAYS noticeable wherever he went, the place was very crowded with a large number of boisterous students among the other regular restaurant patrons. The initial gasps around Tait had long subsided and he had gained enough anonymity to enjoy his meal, when his eye happened to land on a familiar face. Janet. She was alone - or he thought so at first until he saw the man sitting at the intimate booth along with her. The man she was with was so different than James - much more like Tait. Tait could feel it. Though the man was quite a bit smaller than James in spirit he was very take charge, dominant. Tait tried to watch where he could and he noted some sexual looks. Body language. Was it an affair? Was that the issue? An issue James didn't know but felt? It was not Tait’s place to inform James, as much as he might have liked to. But he used the information in his sessions with James, seeing that James was different around the topic of intimacy. All the pieces fell into place another night in mid-January of his last semester. This time, he was at a rather raucous club where one of the football graduate assistant staff was having a bachelor party. Tait was invited this time, as was James and Janet. Everyone was there, introductions were made. The usual. But Tait didn't want to draw too much attention as sometimes social gatherings together made patients feel awkward. The party was in full swing and Tait was moving toward the bar for a drink when he noticed a nondescript, metal side door. A side door with a rather large doorman in front of it. As Tait looked on in curiosity as fate had it, he saw James and Janet with a small bag at that door. They quietly showed something to the doorman and he allowed them into what looked like a stairwell that led down. It was their body language, and curiosity, that led Tait to want to know what was behind that door and down those stairs. It was just… odd. So he went up to the doorman and looked down at him. The doorman, feeling tiny for the first time in years said, “Well fuck me. Someone hit the damned motherlode. I take it you are here for someone?” Tait pressed his luck and said James and Janet’s names. His eyes got wider still. “Oh, them. They just went down. No need to see an ID for you… SIR '' The doorman opened the locked knob and permitted Tait entrance but the way he said SIR. It was… odd. Again. If you had told Tait what was at the bottom of that stair, he never would have gone down. And he would have never discovered this world. Until that night, such things had only been the butt of locker room taunts and legend in his world. There were some references in his sexual psychology classes of this. But that was all. Before Tait stretched a smaller bar. A dark bar with music and decorations and implements. On a couple of televisions, Dominance BDSM porn played. Tait’s eyes were wide when he noticed and the noise of the bar stopped. James and Janet looked up - now dressed in a much more revealing fashion. Janet in all black, James in white with a chain and small lock around his neck. It was then that Tait noticed everyone was in some form of black or black and white. And as usual he was in comfortable but slightly revealing club clothes… all black. “Oh my God. Oh, no.” Both said in unison. They ran up to the giant muscle man who looked like both the patron saint of this place and also like a fish out of water. The pair were shocked at first - and angry. They were furious at Tait for following them and prying where he did not belong until it became very clear that Tait didn't have a clue what this place was or what they were really doing there. Then they looked at each other, “Doctor Holden… Tait…I… I guess we should explain.” James said. James and Janet invited him into a private sort of room with a bed and various items. On the bed, what Tait came to know later was called a “gimp suit.” And also in the room was a man - dressed in black. Much smaller but in black and well toned. Perhaps a rock climber or yoga instructor. He definitely had the outline of abs through his black get up. The man Tait didn't know looked terrified of Tait. That this had become some sort of victimization with a man who could gently break them all without himself shedding one drop of sweat. It was then that Tait remembered - he was the man he had seen Janet out with that night alone. “It’s OK, Tom. Please stay.” Janet said. Then James chimed in, “This is… i hope will still be a friend, Sir. And we need to explain.” James and Janet finally began to explain the missing piece Tait never grasped. James and Janet were in a Dominance/submission sexual relationship. While James was normally quite the dominant sort of fellow, he had a massive fetish for being submissive in the bedroom. And Janet, his opposite number, got off on being in control over James with another dominant man. That was Tom. He was their bull, in the language. Over the evening no sex was had but everything was explained to Tait, who found himself curious, despite how foreign the desire was to him. Tait was a very dominant man and enjoyed being so in every aspect. James apologized and said he never should have gotten past the doorman when Tom laughed and said - “Look at HIM. Would you tell the God of all Dominant men "No" at that door? I mean… I met Janet at the gym and things went from there. But how he is dressed and - Tait was it - may I ask for you to hold up your arm?” Tait didn't put much into it but he did. “Jesus fucking Christ - tell HIM and that body no. Here?!?” They stayed until last call. And after that… Tait became curious. How did this world work? He began to read and found it oddly fascinating. He found scholarly literature on the subject from someone named Guy Baldwin. He could understand at least some of the appeal to a dominant personality. One who liked being in control like he did. There was the allure of the taboo for sure. And slowly, as Tait gained James and Janet's trust, they began to share with him from more than just an introductory or academic point of view. Just one home visit at first - and that became two and then three. James began to call him SIR. Janet explained and invited Tait in. Tait saw James transformed into a subservient beta bitch. And Tait found… He liked taking control of James when invited. Not sexual contact, just control of a very intimate sort of way. Within a year, Tait took control of them both… and he became their bull. James submitted to him and revealed himself as a cuck. James sat to the side and watched Tait and Janet - and as the barriers dropped, both began to almost worship him as that patron saint they spoke of that night at the bar. Tait kept this to just these two, but found the relationship both curious and strangely exhilarating. Janet was so verbal - talking about how much bigger, stronger, how much better at sex Tait was than James. How much bigger his tool was. How much more Tait could make her orgasm. And he had to admit James' tiny dick - while a bit above average he knew - was nothing compared to his. Well before he had ever seen it, Janet pointed out James’ hard dick through his jeans. Tait -in a little more locker room fun - smiled and winked and pressed his own jeans around his purely flaccid member and James gasped… and withered a bit. They knew EXACTLY who was the MAN and who wasn't between them. Tait thought that belittling a man would bother him. But Tait saw that James CRAVED what she was saying. What she was doing. And what he did to him. So, Tait naturally began to engage too. Lording over and belittling “little Jimmy” as Tait now called him behind closed doors, like hyperactive locker room banter. He found he rather enjoyed the control over the pair. Both of them wanted it, and Tait - Tait slowly learned to deliver that dominance. He became SUPREMELY good at it. He shaped them - shaped them both in the bedroom and out. He shaped James to become what seemed to most to be an Alpha male. James stood up to everyone - just as he did now as Tait’s office manager. But with those words - Triple Tight End - Jimmy collapsed into a submissive cuck, almost a male slave to Tait’s whims. And Janet - Janet craved so much what Tait gave her. Over the years, Tait found that women like Jess and Lacey - who were actually instinctively attracted to the kind of veiny huge bodybuilder muscle he had was rare. Even if they were attracted to his height, an over 6’9” Frank Zane was scary to most. Not Janet though. Janet came to very nearly worship every muscle and compared them to James with him standing there whenever she could. She LOVED muscle worshiping Tait. So much so that full out sex in their encounters, while not uncommon, didn't happen nearly as often as compared to how much she loved his body and strength. And in return, Tait changed her into the take charge kind of woman James needed in his day to day life. She kept James going. The hole in their lives was filled. The couple’s love grew and flourished. But, they had both become dependent on Tait’s size and power and command and his cock… Though for Tait it wasn't love or proper female companionship with an equal like he loved. It was a fetish he really liked, but not love. Tait the Bull, Janet the dominant woman, and little Jimmy the cuck. No more or less. *** As good as his word, James had the documents in Tait's email box. Tait signed the forms and sent them up the chain. He had never asked for time off outside of his contract before. Not a single day of PTO. Now, he had just asked for two months off. But he had the time… and he was going to use it. As Tait drove back toward the hotel, he began to think. His little banter with James and the codewords and the memory of his first time dominating them. Why had he thought about that? It was that website he saw Matty was reading. It was a page about dominance and submission. A porn page, porn stories about it, but Tait read enough words before Matty shut it off to understand what it was. What Matty was saying, what he was feeling… Tait had no idea if Matty was thinking about the dominance or the submissive side. But the emotions, the conflict, the forbidden allure. If Matty had some feelings in that world - it could explain everything. And why he was so scared to share. Taboo subjects of a sexual nature that were frowned upon by society - though so many people had them. But few were able to express them. But, Tait had a plan. A plan to help both his son and future daughter-in-law - in more ways than one. He had helped James get his backbone in every way but one. Perhaps all of that experience with James and Janet was for a reason… Perhaps the apple was not that far from the tree.

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

Chapter 10 Rupert and Evan Glencross walked through the halls of the half-destroyed manor. Their hulking frames filled the corridor, their heads nearly brushing the ceiling. They moved like predators stalking their prey, senses heightened, and cocks leaking from the anticipation of more killing. More growth. “I think I hear footsteps,” Rupert said. “This way.” Evan followed his brother, stepping into the moonlight that showered the hallway through a series of skylights. The brothers padded along the blood red carpet, causing the wooden floor to creak loudly beneath their weight, over 800 lbs of muscle between them. “Ah, well lookie here. A lone pig.” Rupert said, staring straight ahead. *** Vincent took position at the end of the hall, staring down the two murderous behemoths. His heart raced as he held the gun up. The twins were in position, right where he needed them. “You’re going to try to take us all by your widdle self,” Rupert said in a mocking baby voice. “How cute.” “Now!” Vincent shouted. Sean burst through a closed door to the twins left, grabbing Evan and tackling him thought another closed door. The two muscle men went through the wood like it was made of cardboard, disappearing into a nearby room. A startled Rupert turned, “What the fuck!” Vincent opened fire, and didn’t stop until the clip was empty. The first shot struck Rupert near the top of his mountainous trap. He grunted with pain and zig-zagged down the hall straight for Vincent. Two more shots hit him clean, one grazed him, and the rest missed. “You think that can stop me!” Rupert screamed, as he bled from multiple wounds. He turned beet red with anger as massive veins erupted on his forehead. “I’ll kill you and I’ll heal, you fucking pig!” *** What was this? Evan thought as he felt the weight of the naked pig on top of him. This officer was bigger than he remembered. Bigger than any opponent he’d ever faced, yes, even bigger than his father. But he was bigger. He should have no problem overpowering this opponent and squeezing the life out of him. So why did it feel so difficult? Evan wrestled against the sinewy, hard muscle of the cop, two nude mountains of muscle locked in battle, and only one could walk away. Why was he so strong? Then it hit him. The book. Rupert’s concerns about his uncle were well founded. He had taken the pig to the book and now he had the power too. That was the only explanation for why Evan couldn’t easily overpower him. But…but who had he killed to get so strong so fast. As he struggled against his opponent his mouth curled into a knowing grin. He actually had a little respect for this one. “You killed the other cops. Didn’t you?” “And your uncle,” said the pig, “And now I’m going to kill you.” Evan struck his opponent’s gut. His abs were like concrete. “That won’t be easy, pig!” “But it will be fun!” Evan felt a hard strike to his jaw and tasted his salty metallic blood on his tongue. *** Sean knew he could beat the twin. True, his opponent was bigger and probably stronger, but Sean needed to win more. The Glencrosses had been kiiling and growing for years. This was their last rodeo. After this night, they couldn’t do it anymore, but Sean was just beginning. He had years of growth ahead of him. He wouldn’t give them up by dying here, tonight. He had the greater will to win and that doubled his strength. Every hold Evan put him in, he broke free of. Every strike, he returned fivefold. He gritted his teeth and flexed his muscles, feeling himself as hard and strong as titanium. He could see the worry in his opponent’s eyes, worry that grew with each passing second. He knew from that look that Evan Glencross had never struggled so much in his life. It made him proud. It made him only want to hurt him more, only want to make his defeat more humiliating. Sean slammed the twin’s head into the floorboards, splintering the wood, and causing the once intimidating monster to cry out in agony. The growth had already given Sean the most unbelievable erection he had ever had and now dominating Evan Glencross made him grow even harder, painfully erect. “This is for the good cops you killed today!” Sean said, flipping Evan over. “And for all the other evil you’ve done!” Sean rammed his now thicker cock into the twin’s tight hole. The Glencross holes have never been entered, Sean could tell. They had always been the dominators. Always the ones who did the fucking. “A taste of your own medicine,” Sean said. “Nooo!” Evan reached back, attempting to grab his attacker. Sean took the arm, and twisted, dislocating it at the shoulder, and then began to plow his victim. The twin’s un-lubed anus fought him, but his cock tore through, splitting it, forcing it to comply. “How does it feel to be my bitch?” Sean said, as he wrapped his hands around Evan’s bull neck and squeezed with all his might. “You can’t do this to me!” Evan shouted. “Shut up you spoiled brat,” Sean said, while sticking a hand into Evan’s mouth and grabbing a hold of his lower mandible. He pulled, ripping the twin’s jaw off. He fucked his victim’s hole, bloody, while holding him down with such force he snapped his spine in several places. Life passed from the massive body, and Sean came, shooting a massive load. He laid there for a moment, until Vincent’s scream of pain pulled him out of his post-nut euphoria. *** The hallway seemed to shake as Rupert Glencross came barreling towards him. Vincent didn’t understand how the muscle beast before him could still move the way he did with those gunshot wounds. He took the tazer and fired, but the twin dodged the cords. “You’ll have to do better than that pig!” Rupert said in a mocking tone. “How about this!?” Vincent held up the pepper spray. The twin was right on him now, a wall of bloodied muscle. Upon seeing the spray, Rupert turned his head and swung his massive arms. Vincent sent out a jet of the burning liquid, clipping Rupert in the side of his face, before the twin’s swinging arms, as thick as legs, knocked the can from his hand. Rupert turned to face him, one eye red and inflamed. “Fuuuck!” He shouted, before reaching out and wrapping a thick hand around Vincent’s neck. With laughable ease, he lifted the pig into the air. “You pathetic, piece of shit. Did you really think you could stand a chance against me, against all this muscle! I’ll break every bone in your body, nice and easy, so you’ll be alive to feel all of it. Then I’ll fuck your mangled body to death!” Vincent kicked and punched as he struggled to breath. His feeble attempts to break free only made Rupert laugh. The twin held a hand in front of Vincent’s face and broke the bridge of his nose with just flick of a finger. “You’re so frail compared to me, so easy to break, like thin porcelain.” Rupert dropped him to the ground and watched him crumple at his feet, then he grabbed one of Vincents forearms and squeezed, snapping the bones. The cop’s cry of pain brought a look of glee to his face. “Now let me do a leg,” He let out an evil laugh. “This is so unfair. I’m so much stronger than you, pig. It’s almost too easy.” He reached down to grab a leg, but stopped. Sensing a presence, Rupert turned, and was immediately face to face with the other pig, the huge one. Before he could act, two thick fingers speared the sides of his head, digging into his ears, shattering his ear drums. “But you’re not stronger than me.” Sean said, before striking Rupert in the torso with a quick succession of rib shattering blows. The twin fell to his knees, the jagged edges of broken ribs piercing through his skin, and blood pouring from his gaping mouth. He stared up at Sean, with a look of disbelief, before falling to his side, dead. “Have fun in hell,” Sean said, as a final wave of growth over-came his body. The blood on his knuckles was absorbed. Vincent watched his man’s body swell, growing slightly bigger, becoming even veinier and more defined. The muscle fibers twitched as Sean moaned in pleasure. “Fuck yeah,” Sean said. “It feels better every time.” “Can you stand, baby?” Sean asked, extending a hand. “Yeah.” Vincent said, reaching up with his good arm and using Sean to pull himself up. Vincent looked over his lover’s new body and let out a “Jesus Christ!” Sean casually bounced his pecs and flexed. “Yeah, I’m fucking huge, aren’t I?” “It’s almost scary.” Vincent said, thinking not only about Sean’s imposing size, but also about the affect his deal with the demon would have on his personality. Would he become an evil monster like the Glencross twins, obsessed with only his own growth? “And a little sexy, too?” Sean said, with a smile. Vincent nodded, struggling to smile through the pain. “Yeah, definitely sexy.” He wiped the blood from his broken nose away, with his shirt sleeve. “Scary sexy.” “You’re not scared of me, are you?” Sean asked, putting a finger under Vincent’s chin, and lifting his head. “No, I’m not scared off you,” Vincent rested a hand on Sean’s arms and felt the granite like muscle. “But I’m scared of what you might do.” “I’m not happy I killed Jean and Travis. They didn’t deserve to die, but I was riding the high from that first wave of growth and, knowing what I would be facing, I honestly didn’t think I had any choice, but I promise you, my love, that anyone I kill in the future will deserve it.” “I believe you.” Vincent said. They leaned in and kissed. Vincent felt his feet leave the ground as Sean hoisted him up and rested his ass on his powerful forearm. When the kiss was over Vincent asked, “how the hell are we going to explain all this?” “I’ve got an idea,” Sean said, “It’s a little crazy. It involves self-harm and arson.” Vincent shook his head, “Well, nothing could be crazier than what we’ve been through tonight, so let’s get it over with.” Epilogue Officer Neil Mckay stood by the buffet table, stuffing his mouth with hors d’oeuvres. He was in full police uniform, starched and pressed, shoes polished to a mirror finish, as were all the other officers in attendance at the ceremony. Their well-dressed friends, families, and honored guests filled the room, all there to honor the fallen officers and the two heroes. Neil chewed and wiped the crumbs from his face as he looked toward the stage. There, officers Sean Henderson and Vincent Amato had seats of honor near the mayor who had just presented them with medals of valor for what happened…that grim night. Neil lowered his head and thought about it. He had been there, at the manor, but got lost in the maze that seemed to go on forever, with a busted walkie. He had wandered for nearly 2 hours before bumping into a group of terrified CSU guys. When they finally made it out, all the action was over, and the Glencross twins were dead. He had found Sean and Vincent hobbling away from the burning manor, both seriously injured. Sean was naked, stripped and humiliated by the twins he had said. “You were the one that found them, right?” Neil turned to see a young rookie standing beside him, looking lean and fresh faced. “Yeah, that was me.” “That was a crazy night, wasn’t it?” said the rookie. “It’s a miracle those two were able to bring down the twins and make it out of that house, alive.” Neil nodded. A miracle, indeed. And a little bit of luck. Apparently, they had stumbled upon the twins lighting a fire. Those psychos were going to burn down the house along with the bodies of the people they killed, as if destroying the evidence would have done them any good. After a fight where Sean and Vincent used every tool at their disposal (and still nearly lost), they managed to kill the twins. Those nuts’ bodies were half destroyed by the fire that they had started, and the coroner had to identify them with dental records. “It’s a wonder they have a uniform big enough to fit officer Henderson,” said the rookie. “Dude is absolutely huge. And I swear he looks twice as big as he did before all this went down.” Neil nodded. He had thought the same thing when he saw him that night. It was as if he had grown overnight, but he quickly pushed that thought from his mind. A person couldn’t grow overnight. “Sean has always been big.” Neil said. “Yeah, I suppose,” said the rookie, “Anyway, catch you later. I’m going to go see if I can shake their hands.” Neil let out a stifled laugh. Yeah, you do that kid. In truth, Neil often thought about that night and the story Sean and Vincent had told. It didn’t all make sense. Everything didn’t add up nice and neat. Not to mention that strange leather-bound book Vincent had been carrying when they left the manor, a book that never made its way into evidence. A lot of stuff was overlooked. The chief just wanted to close the case and crown his heroes. The perps were dead, and that’s all that mattered in the eyes of the public. What really went down on that estate? Noone will ever really know. Neil couldn’t be worried about that, though. He took another look up at the two grinning heroes, both jealous and relieved that it wasn’t him up there, before turning back toward the buffet and grabbing another bite.

Hey there, first time poster, long time lurker. This is a gender swapped story of Deviantart's Morefriction's story Wrong Target from their HERS universe. Posted with their permission ofc. Hope you all like it. The lockdowns were ruining everything. All of Kyle's classes were online and he'd been laid off of his part-time job, so he didn't even have an excuse to leave the house anymore. He'd been stuck in the house with his freaking parents for months on end, while it seemed like everyone he ever knew was out in the real world enjoying their lives, finding boyfriends, making money, and living in their own apartments. And, Kyle thought, bitterly, getting the damned HIMS virus. OK, so he only actually knew one guy who'd gotten it—Liam Stilson, who'd apparently gotten so huge that the government was sending him checks just so he could afford food and a giant studio apartment within walking distance of where he worked. But it was everywhere. All over social media, guys his age were posting these crazy before and after pics of their HIMS virus transformations. Kyle had found it bizarre, at first, then somewhat grotesque. Their muscles were so huge and bulging that they were completely impossible to hide or really even to cover, not that most of the guys bothered. They were always out, plain for the world to see, and people were always staring at them like they were obsessed. And for Kyle, who had spent no small part of his college career avoiding the "freshman fifteen" with a religious exercise routine and frequent salads, the very idea of stuffing yourself like a total pig, so hungry that you couldn't even stop yourself from eating, was an actual nightmare. But as Kyle started seeing more of them, and he got used to seeing their absurd forms, something kind of clicked. There was one post where a guy was just walking down a crowded sidewalk. It was just a twenty second clip, taken from his perspective, which must have been nine or ten feet in the air, but Kyle had watched it countless times. It was something about the way the guy's immense shoulders swayed lazily from side to side with his slow, deliberate gait, the way that even through the camera you could just feel how huge he was; the way everyone on the street was staring at him, taking pictures of him, and all of them looking so strangely small. Suddenly, Kyle got it. He started following the original poster, then discovered a dozen other HIMS accounts to follow as well. He found the idea occupying a larger and larger space in his mind, and the idea that he could be one of those guys, that people might look at him that way, became an obsession. Especially considering that Kyle himself was only 5’11’’ in a very tall family. He wanted to know what it was like not looking up at people anymore. But Kyle wasn't going to catch HIMS like this. His parents had him washing his hands a hundred times a day, disinfecting anything and everything that came from outside the house, and he wasn't even supposed to go anywhere unless he absolutely needed to. His mother found the idea disgusting. Possibly because of her own 6’2’’ body, which she was always proud of, and which she loved. She disliked the idea of these men being so much taller than everyone else. As for his father? It seemed as if he wasn't much into the idea either. His father had spent decades of his life working on his own body. He was already fairly tall, at 6'4'', and the years spent working out in the gym were obvious in the way his immense muscles stretched his shirts and sweatpants he wore around the house even at the age of 54. Kyle thought that his dad simply might have felt he had no need to take his own body any further, and go through all the rigmarole that a HIMS infection could put him through at home and at work. His father was a successful man that had pretty much everything he wanted, and he didn’t want to disturb that. But Kyle soon found a solution. After following countless links and reading countless discussions of other men who wanted to catch the HIMS virus despite the government's restrictions, Kyle found a man selling contaminated items online, things he'd been in contact with when he'd manifested the HIMS virus symptoms. Without thinking twice, Kyle had paid the five hundred dollar asking fee, which almost completely drained his bank account. He got excited, imagining himself growing taller, stronger. He loved the idea of being even bigger and more masculine than his old man. Something he wouldn’t have thought was even possible not that long ago. When the package finally arrived Kyle was more than a little disgusted to find that it was, of all things, a dirty napkin. He was half tempted to throw it away, almost sure that he'd been the victim of what should have been a very obvious scam. But he'd waited so long and he'd fantasized about the possibility so much that he finally held the awful thing in his hands, then tentatively wiped the repulsive thing over his face and mouth, until there was no way that he hadn't been exposed to the virus. He even kept the stupid thing on his desk, intending to expose himself again on the following day, but it had disappeared after breakfast. “Got anything more to throw out up there bud? I’m taking out the trash!” He heard his father ask from downstairs. It was obvious that he had taken it while cleaning. That night, as they were watching an old movie together in the living room, Kyle and his mother heard his father’s stomach growl aggressively. He just smiled and turned to them. “Woah, sorry about that. Must have gotten hungry.” He said, patting his firm, muscular stomach. Which was odd, Kyle thought, because the three of them had just had dinner. After a while his dad got up and got himself a snack from the kitchen. He finished it and went up to get another. After he had finished that, he brought out the leftovers from that night’s dinner and started eating them, staring at the TV. “David,” Kyle’s mother asked, a growing look of concern falling across her face. “Are you alright?” “Oh, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’m just famished.” He smiled at her, and he passed his large hand through his full, thick salt and pepper hair, nervous. Kyle couldn’t help but glance at his father’s large bicep, as it twitched and curled into a firm ball as he brought up his hand to his head. Soon, his father had eaten almost everything in the fridge. His mother was starting to freak out. His father tried to reassure them that everything was fine, he wasn’t even feeling weird, it was just a weird hunger spell. Kyle didn’t want to believe it, but a part of his brain was no longer able to ignore just how tight his father’s clothes were now, so much more so than usual. How it seemed like, no matter how much he pulled his sweatpants down, the cuffs always kept rolling above his ankles, his shirt was riding up more and more. He saw his father eye the canisters of enhanced nutritional formula they had acquired through his dad’s friends as a precaution, never in a million years thinking that they'd ever use them, but feeling that it was better to have them than not. And then it began. His father stood up, and bent over. His stomach growled again, much louder than before. Kyle’s mother jolted up and went to the canisters, opening one up and helping his father drink from it. He gulped it down greedily, tens of thousands of calories sliding down his throat. Then he went for another canister, and then another. They all knew what this meant. At first, Kyle was too stunned, too utterly hurt by the cruel twist of fate to even say a word. He simply stood there, helplessly, as his father grew larger and larger, his cries of panic and dismay at having caught the virus soon muffled by the sounds of relentless, machine-like consumption. Kyle’s mother stared at her husband as he visibly expanded in the living room, his thighs and butt swelling, his pecs growing thicker and wider on his chest, his already huge arms packing on even more corded, hard muscle, and his entire frame growing five or six inches longer. They all had to face the reality of the situation. They were supposed to only get one canister of nutrients per household from the government, but his dad wrangled some of his old friends he knew had access to them into giving them a whole load of canisters, just in case. As she watched her husband gulp down the thick liquid greedily, Kyle’s mother regretted giving them all to him almost at once. They only seemed to make him hungrier, more insatiable, and he gulped down the oddly clear, gelatinous fluid like it was the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted. Her husband’s already enormous cock was also increasing at an alarming rate, although already standing fully erect as he drank, having long ago burst through his sweatpants like they were made of tissue paper, it too just kept growing longer and thicker. She realized, as he took another canister from her, that his forearms alone might have already become larger than even her thighs. She watched his engorged, enormous muscles twitch and twist as he brought the canister up to his height, his bicep curling into a ball the size of her chest. His jaw had become even sharper and more masculine, which she didn’t really know was possible for someone who was already so grizzled, handsome, and manly to begin with. She looked down at his waist. Somehow it remained narrow and tight even on his new titanic frame. Where David had once a solid six pack, now he sported an inhumanly ripped and bulging eight pack and Adonis belt. As she handed her husband yet another of the canisters of formula from the bannister of the staircase, as it was the only way she could match his height now, she was vaguely aware of her poor son screaming and crying from below, obviously distraught at watching his father go through such a horrific ordeal. David felt his son’s increasingly smaller fists pound ever more weakly against first his large, round shoulders, then the side of his growing, thickening chest as he kept gulping down more and more of the nutrients his wife just kept handing to him. His clothes tore and fell in tatters on the floor, he kept feeling the tiny fists impact his large, firm ass, then the side of his growing tree trunk thighs, until he felt the hits of anger, or fear, or whatever it was, just somewhere above his knee against his titanic quads which were already huge before, but by now must have been large enough to fit both his wife and son together to into only one. He must have passed the average 10 foot mark that HIMS men usually reached some time ago, he thought, as he kept on consuming more and more of the nutrients. It had only taken a few hours. A few hours of incredulity, then panic, and finally healthy doses of fear as Kyle's dad continued his seemingly relentless growth. But it was finally over. The three of them all stood there in the living room in awe. In the end, Kyle found himself staring up and up at his father, who had become one of the most enormous, hung, and muscular HIMS men he'd ever seen.

Alright, finally I've managed to write down a part two for this, hope you all enjoy. And I'm definitely taking your ideas for part 3 Any further feedback is appreciated of course. WRONG TARGET: PART TWO Kyle looked up in awe at his father. The enormous man was drenched in sweat, and breathing heavily in the middle of the living room, his heaving, muscular chest moving up and down with every breath. It was over. Kyle’s mother got down from the stairs and stood next to her son, both seemingly unable to stop looking at the new, giant man filling up the living room in front of them. David blinked a few times, as if emerging from some kind of a stupor, he looked around. He noticed his wife and son in front of him, but he felt that something was off. They were different somehow. They were smaller, so much smaller than before. The reality of that night’s events finally hit him. Kyle watched his father slowly realizing what had happened, he saw him look down over his new, engorged pectorals, which were already so big before, but were now each probably larger than his entire chest. Then, he saw him bunch his fists up. David’s gaze went slowly over to his own arm. He started raising his right fist up slightly, to allow himself a better look. Kyle gulped as he saw the enormous muscles in his father’s arm wake up and bunch up at his command. The mere act of raising his hand triggering a magnificent concert of muscle and strength across his ripped, large arm made Kyle shiver. David brought his arm up into view, and slowly flexed his bicep, causing his already enormous arm to swell even larger. Kyle worried for a moment about what his father thought, until he saw a smile creep onto David’s face. “H-honey,” Kyle’s mother began. “Should we call a doctor?” “This is magnificent!” David boomed, his voice now even deeper and more commanding than before, every syllable and sound oozing with masculinity. Kyle noticed his mother bite her lip. “I’m HUGE!” He shouted, and looked down at the two of them with an enormous grin. Then, he caught a glance of his erect penis standing in full view. Suddenly the three of them felt an air of thick unease fill the room. Kyle’s father didn’t try to cover himself up, but a little bit of redness filled his handsome cheeks. For an awkward moment all three of them stared at David’s huge new tool. It must have been over 15 inches long, and who knew how thick. It stood impossibly erect, hard and glistening under the soft yellow light of the living room. “We should measure you.” Kyle’s mom said softly. All three of them must have realized that they all had to get comfortable with the situation fast, as any part of David’s body would be hard to cover up now. “No,” He boomed, and he brought both of his arms up and flexed them. “I am far larger than any measuring tape in this house. It would be much better to compare.” Kyle and his mom look at each other. “Come.” David commanded, and gestured next to his leg while looking at his son. Kyle immediately complied. He walked up to his father’s thick, muscular leg. The size of it filled his vision as he got close. He stood next to it, realizing somewhere in the back of his mind that the top of his head must have only barely reached up to his father’s ball sack on the other side of that enormous thigh. He stared up at his dad, part excited, part scared. From where he was standing, he couldn’t even see his father’s face. David smiled. “Just as I thought,” He said, and backed up a little. Then he flexed his titanic quads right next to his son, which made Kyle flinch. “My leg is bigger than your entire body.” And he was right. Kyle saw that his father’s thick and corded thigh muscles were definitely wider than the width of his shoulders. He realized that it was possible that David’s one ripped, striated, flexing calf that he witnessed slowly twist and bunch up so close to him now might have more muscle than his entire body. His father was a giant. Not only a giant, but a muscular, and strong giant. Kyle wondered if he was standing next to the biggest HIMS man in the entire world. “Annabelle,” David boomed. “Come.” And he lowered his hand down to her, opening his palm up. She walked up to him, all thoughts of disgust she once felt towards HIMS men long gone from her mind. She shivered slightly as she raised her hand up to his, overwhelmed by just how much bigger it was. She felt his long, thick fingers brush up against her forearms as she gently touched her palm against his, feeling the intense warmth emanating from the wide, flat plane of his hand that stretched out all around her own. Her hand barely covered his palm. She looked up at him, in awe. He smiled down with her, it was a wicked, playful smile. She blushed. “H- how tall do you think you are?” She asked from below. David looked around the living room. And then he looked down at his son, still standing next to his leg. Then he looked back at her. “You tell me.” He said. Anabelle looked at her husband, then at the ceiling of their living room, and then down to her son. “Jesus David,” She said, her voice filled with excitement. “You must be at least… twelve feet tall.” David then took a deep, satisfied breath. In all that time he was cautious about not catching the HIMS virus, he never knew just how incredibly good it would actually feel. How, despite his already way above average size which once more than satisfied him, how it could feel better to be even bigger. The feeling of growth itself had been one of the best things he had ever experienced, and now, standing there, simply feeling just how huge he had become—he only thought of how much of a fool he had been. ... After the night of his father’s growth, they contacted the authorities, and were made to go into a brief lockdown. In all that time Kyle hadn’t felt anything, and had to give up hope on ever getting the HIMS. Once they were let out doctors came to inspect his father, and government officials came with him to move them all to their new HIMS home. The doctors were impressed with the incredible growth that David had experienced, considering that most HIMS men grew to be somewhere between 9 and 10ft tall. After their examinations, and after hearing of the events of that night, they had concluded that the David’s growth was in part because of his already large size, but may have had more to do with the huge quantities of calories that he was given. They and the government officials weren’t happy with David hoarding so much of the nutrient canisters at his house but weren’t about to really say much to this towering, muscular, 12ft tall giant. But they were pretty sure that the massive quantities of the nutrient dense formula he consumed only furthered his growth. They also noted the other difference between David and other HIMS men--his incredibly shredded physique. While most HIMS men were muscular and powerful, they usually looked more like leaner power-lifters, but David had the appearance of a huge physique competitor, lean and shredded, yet superbly muscular and huge. They said that the strain of the HIMS virus he got must have been particularly potent. Although Kyle was glad that his father apparently hadn’t given much thought to where the HIMS he caught came from, he never stopped thinking about the fact how, despite his best efforts, he hadn’t managed to catch it himself. A few months after the incident Kyle stumbled on some lab working on an experimental drug that claimed to mimic the effects of the HIMS virus that was looking for people to sign up and test it. Kyle signed up immediately, desperate to get a taste of what his father had become. It was a long shot, and the lab seemed remote and exotic, but still, he figured, it was worth a try. He waited for a long time for the drug to arrive, but apparently the move to the new HIMS house had messed with the delivery company’s system, and the vials of the drug took much longer than they should have to arrive. This, however, turned out to be a good thing as a few weeks after volunteering to test the drug out, news had started to come out about the horrible side effects the drug apparently had on people that tried it. While it did cause some growth at first, apparently the growth was soon reversed, and the subjects experienced horrible health issues. Eventually the vials did arrive, and Kyle stored them away somewhere in his room. Kyle was glad that he didn’t get them on time, but he was still distraught that his chances of growth were dashed once again. Especially as life with his newly enlarged father reminded him daily of the incredible superiority that these new HIMS men possessed. It was certainly difficult at times, living with a man so much bigger and stronger and... well, hung than himself. And to make things worse, that man was his own father. Their lives certainly did become different after that night. They lived in their new home, with its impossibly tall ceilings and huge furniture designed to accommodate HIMS men and their families, which David did sometimes have some trouble with because it was more snug for him, even though it was designed for inhumanly large people. Kyle slowly got used to living around the house though, standing on a stool to brush his teeth, the way his feet hanging off his father’s couches, the house’s subtle shaking every time his father walked near, or went to his huge fridge - which was very frequently as his father was almost always hungry. It was true that HIMS men had an enormous footprint, demanding so much more of everything from food to energy to clothing, if they chose to wear it, and their libidos seemed inexhaustible. He needed someone to always be ready to get and do things for him, and he chose Annabelle for that. His mother had adjusted surprisingly quickly to her new role. Although it wasn’t hard to see why. David was always gorgeous, but now he was superhuman. One of his fingers must have been longer and thicker than most men’s dicks. Kyle didn’t want to think too much about how the two of them managed in the bedroom, but from what he heard through even the thick walls of their new HIMS house, he figured they must have found a way. His father was almost always erect. He occasionally wore some HIMS clothing to cover himself up when he thought he needed to, but after going through a whole pile of HIMS underwear in the first few weeks, all torn by his frequent and powerful erections, he figured it was easier to forego clothing altogether most of the time. They got used to it. They got used to a lot of the changes pretty quickly. The biggest change of all was the HIMS men that his father started bringing over to the house. David quickly realized that his new, more powerful cock was just too much for his wife, and that if he wanted to have sex again it would have to be with other, huge HIMS men. So, Kyle lived with a parade of enormous men making their way to his parent’s bedroom every other night or so. These people were giants, and he was always terrified of them when he let the one his parents had found for that night in, but even still, when his father walked up to greet them Kyle witnessed just how enormous his dad really was. All of these 9 to 10-foot-tall HIMS men barely ever made it more than up to his dad’s chin. They looked like they were his kids, smaller, teenage children yet to reach their father’s full height and mass. He looked down at giants. His mother was ok with all of this as well, in fact she frequently followed these men and his father to the bedroom. Kyle thought that she would be much more upset that father got the HIMS virus, but she was completely enraptured by his father’s new form, and his changing personality. David had always been a strong, confident man, but now it seemed his dominance and confidence had grown just as he had. It was very difficult not to do what he wanted, his demeanor, his stature, his voice, the way he carried himself, it was just all so different somehow. He was never mean, and he never did anything they disliked. To Kyle, he just seemed to exude some sort of new… arrogance. He simply always got what he wanted, he didn’t really take their opinions too seriously, although he never made them do things they didn’t want to. Now that he was a 12’ tall, insanely muscular, virile and powerful exemplar of masculinity and strength, he simply always thought he knew better. And, to Kyle, it sometimes seemed that he thought he was better. Something he felt compelled to voice to his father one night. His father, who sat completely naked on a gigantic HIMS armchair in the living room, his muscular thighs bunched up against one another, pushing the arms of even that huge HIMS armchair apart with their sheer mass, his powerful arms resting nonchalantly on the armrests, elbows spread wide, his triceps fighting with his lats for space, his chest completely hiding the huge armchair’s rest behind its inhuman width and muscularity, simply stared down at his son, almost puzzled. “I don’t think I’m better than you,” David began, but then he stopped himself and thought for a moment. “I’m just… ten times more than you. I weigh ten times more, I eat ten times more, and, well, you know...” Kyle stared up at his huge father in shock, he wasn’t even trying to hide it, Kyle thought. His gaze fell, and briefly met his father’s huge crotch peaking from behind his mammoth quads, a massive ball sack cushioning a flaccid cock larger than his own could ever be even at its hardest. And then again, Kyle figured, why should he. That was something that Kyle had to wrestle with constantly. He was on the one hand entirely in awe of this enormous HIMS man that his father had become. He wanted to be there with him, it helped him enjoy his growth and size by proxy. A part of him loved that his father had grown so huge. But on the other hand, it had left him feeling so small, so weak, knowing that he could never, without catching the HIMS by himself, ever hope to compare to his father. … At some point Kyle had learned that the lab that he got his experimental growth drug had burned down in an accident, and a lot of the secret research that went into the drug had disappeared. He didn’t think of it much then, knowing that the experiments related to the drug had long been stopped and the drug’s production discontinued. All until one night. The three of them had gathered in the living room, watching the news on TV. Kyle sat on the armchair, his legs hanging in the air. His father took up all available space on the large HIMS couch facing the TV, with Kyle’s mother sitting on his titanic thigh, leaning on his chest, and absentmindedly caressing his rock-hard abs, each one larger than her entire fist. The news anchor (clearly a HIMS man) started talking about the experimental drug that Kyle had stashed away in his bedroom. “…Originally intended to achieve HIMS-like effects on non-HIMS subjects, the drug seems to be entering a new space of possibility. A pharmaceutical company in California, after obtaining several samples of the drug, reportedly conducted further research on the drug. However, this time the research wasn’t conducted on non-HIMS subjects to induce HIMS-like growth, but on already grown HIMS men themselves.” The news anchor spoke. Kyle watched on, apprehensively. “The company reports that, after many months of thorough and careful research, they have found that the drug could once again be considered useful, except that it seems to be useful for HIMS men themselves. It seems that the drug can facilitate further growth, even in HIMS men that had their HIMS symptoms fully manifested. Increasing leanness, muscle size, and even height. And, all the while without any of the negative side-effects experienced by its original non-HIMS subjects. Although the effectiveness of the drug seems to be related with the initial size of the HIMS man injected, as larger HIMS men seem to respond more readily to the drug’s effects. However, the original lab and research on the drug are now mostly lost, leaving only already existing samples of it useful to any HIMS man out there. It is uncertain if more of its formula can be created…” Kyle stared at the television, unblinking. He didn’t process anything that came out of the TV after that. He just looked ahead, and felt the weight of his enormous father’s gaze.

I'm liking the ideas you guys are putting in. Also, I just found the "edit" button so I can note when new sections go in. There'll be a part 3 at some point...but I'm not speedy.

And now, part 2! This had to brew for a while. I hope you enjoy it. ----------- After another few moments of afterglow, the men moved through Greg’s bedroom to the shower. With some additional groping and touching, they cleaned off, dried each other, and ended up next to Greg’s oversized bed. Mike stood next to the doorway to the bathroom. “Greg, I’m not as tall as you were yet, am I?” Greg, naked and holding a towel, said “No, on that doorway I had less room than you, I think. Not by much, but a couple-few inches? That one is right about seven foot, if I remember.” Mike hadn’t taken the ring off this whole time. “Greg, come over here, okay?” Mike met Greg a few steps into the room. Greg was again close up to Mike, looking into Mike’s belly and enjoying his warmth after drying off. “Buddy, I think you should give me more of your strength until I’m six-ten, just like you were.” “Mike! I’m getting so-!” “Shrinker, just enjoy it already, okay?” Greg looked up at Mike, already towering over him, as his own height decreased. His eye level passed Mike’s waist, then further down Mike’s leg, until Greg had dwindled another foot in height, now down three-foot-six-inches, and Mike grew as he’d asked. Greg looked straight into Mikes’ big cock, and up a little to his nuts, then up to his face high above. “Fuck...me...Mike….you are twice my size.” Greg looked from side to side. “I’m smaller than your thighs, man! Fuck! Just….Fuck!!!” Greg stretched his arms out, and just reached across the front of the thighs on each side of him. From Mike’s point of view, Greg was not much more than a foot wide, and his reach across his hands spread wide as they were was not more than a yard. Mike smiled big and broad down at Greg. “Yeah, Buddy! Damn, you are so fucking small!” Mike knocked Greg back and forth a little with his massive thighs. “You were just average at this height, I’m thicker than ever!” Mike flexed his legs with Greg between them. “Bud, you are such a giant to me! From here I look at you and think you’re like fifteen feet tall! And damn right, you’re just thick and huge! You’re a massive wall!” Mike thought to himself: Maybe someday I will be that big. Right now though…. “Yeah….big, right?” Mike just looked down at Greg for a moment. He backed up to the door. “Seem about right?” He used his hand over his head to see how far up the doorjamb was. “Yes big guy! Yeah, the doorway there is right at seven foot, and the ceiling is nine in the bedroom. Always seemed just right, you know?” “I do now, little bear, I do now…” Greg walked over to Mike and stood with him in the doorway. “Man, you’re filling the damn thing from side to side and more! I was that tall, but never that big! You’re just so massive!” “Yeah little buddy! I am sooo much bigger than you….” Mike’s expression changed, thoughtful, looking down at Greg. “Little bear, I think it's time for me to be your real life giant. How about you give me everything until you’re two feet tall?” Greg started to shrink again, slowly. “Two feet?!?! Big man, I’m going to be so tiny - how….? I don’t want -!” “Shrinking Bear, just enjoy it OK? It’s time for me to be the big giant over everyone, everywhere. And let’s be honest...you weren’t doing what you should have with all that size anyway. It was just wasted on you.” Mike was slowly growing. He kept his eye on the doorframe, his line of sight getting closer to the top of the door, he was over 7’ tall and still growing. “Wasted on me?!?!? It isn’t yours!!!” Greg, meanwhile, was watching milestones of size in the form of Mike’s body pass him by. He started level with Mike’s crotch, but quickly was the height - but not width! - of Mikes’ massive quads. From Greg’s perspective Mike was growing into a towering, thickening giant, the size of an apartment building, now double his size - now triple his size! And still growing. Mike meanwhile saw the 7’ doorway fall below his sight. He was closing in on seven and a half foot tall. Growing, getting thicker, bigger, fuller, each passing moment. “Yes, Shrinker, wasted on you! You didn’t care about what you could do, how powerful and strong you could be - you just acted entitled to be so tall. Like it was your place to be a big tall guy, and me - like everyone else - just had to look up at you. Like you were soooo good at being tall, or something.” Greg’s view passed to the bottom of Mike’s bulging teardrop thighs - now way more than twice the width of his own body! - then Mike’s knee, where Mike’s thick powerlifter calves - now scaled up massively! - were right below him. For a moment, Mike’s upper leg was like the top half of a two story building just hanging over him, while the massive musculature of his calf was like the start of a grain silo. If it had a door, he could have walked inside with room to spare. “I wasn’t entitled to it! I just was tall! It was as much luck as curse for me!” “Then, Tiny Bear, you shouldn’t be so upset to lose it!” Their heights had stabilized, with Greg just two feet tall and Mike seven-foot-six. Mike was just shy of four times Greg’s size - to Greg that meant Mike appeared to be a thirty-foot giant of flesh and fur. Greg, barely holding back tears, washed over by fear, lust, envy and anger, looked up past the knee above his face to the face of his massive captor so very, very far above. It was only when his eye drifted a little away from Mike that he could tell that Mike was definitely a giant among men, but that he had become a plaything, the scale of an oversized doll in a room of giant furniture...and that this might not be changing back. Mike again crabbed down into a bulging, veiny, lumpy, and to Greg, terrifying most muscular pose, still far above his head but looming enormous like an aircraft carrier mysteriously stable over his head. “Look, it's going to me, and I’m making good use of it, right?” “It wasn’t yours to take!” “You made it mine! You agreed to this, Shrinker! But hey, it has its benefits, you just need to get used to them. Here, see?” Mike, carefully stepping back, squatted carefully down, his cock almost touching the floor, and picked up the small, naked, two-foot Greg by the waist in his massive left paw. Standing back up he lifted Greg until they were face to face, at a distance of Mike’s gently bent arm. “You’ve always wanted to be the smaller guy, and now you are! Look how massive I am!” Mike raised his right arm up into a bicep flex and gestured with his head for Greg to observe. “Fuck, I’m huge! That arm is the biggest thing in three counties! It’s almost bigger than you!” Mike brought Greg right up to giant flexed arm. “Touch it little man! Lick it! Take a minute and realize that thick, bulging arm all together probably weighs more than your whole body!” At two feet tall Greg’s arms could only reach out about six inches...and he still couldn’t span the width of the hill of muscle in front of him. Against his own will, his mind bending to the massive muscled bear who held him in midair, what appeared to be dozens and dozens of feet off the ground, Gregs’ fear about regaining his own size took the back seat to his own lust and desire. He caressed the skin of Mike’s arm, felt the warm flesh, the muscle and fat when he pressed in, and the fur everywhere. His mind was lost in the idea that this bicep and tricep together were almost as tall as him, he was next to a bulging boulder of power, in the literal hand of a man who could crush him effortlessly, and his desire to obey, to have someone else in charge of him - someone truly be in charge of him no matter what he wanted - completely took over. He worshipped the muscle in front of him, and the man it was attached to. Mike watched Greg as the small man used small hands and a small mouth to express his adoration of the monument-sized arm Mike held out for Greg’s offering of worship. Mike spent a moment embracing what was happening: this formerly big man - the biggest person he had ever seen - was now in his literal grasp. Mike looked at the doorway again, and around the room. Even Greg never saw this room from this size. I’m bigger than this little shrinker ever was - in every way! I’m way bigger than the width of that door. “Yes, Little Bear, love that arm. Love it just...like...that.” Greg kept up his affections and started rubbing his face along the soft-covered-steel of the bicep. Mike, still keeping his grip safely on his shrunken friend, rewarded Greg by stroking his back with his index finger, “Good boy, yeah, rub yourself on that massive muscle….” Love it like that...because you’re going to be even smaller, and I’m going to be even bigger, really soon. Mike’s cock, standing a thick twelve inches straight out from his crotch, hardened even further from stone to iron. Greg continued to stroke and kiss the bulging lust-object in front of him. Mike continued to get aroused, and he needed release. He ducked down and turned himself through the door back to the bedroom. “Shrinker, my turn to get my rocks off!” Mike lowered his arm, brought Greg up to his lips, and kissed him as carefully as he could, his own lips being so big compared to Greg’s head. “That’s a good tinyman. Now, stand here on this nightstand for me.” Mike put Greg on the table next to the bed, and lay back against the headboard, his body bent at mostly a right angle, Mike’s cock still stood at attention. From Greg’s point of view, a twenty-five foot giant just sat down across from him, with a three foot cock sticking up from his crotch, just about half his own diminished height. “Jump over here. Get between my legs and stand behind my cock, tinyman.” Greg, still lost in a fog of subservience and intimidation, jumped onto the bed and moon-walked across the soft surface over to Mike’s thick leg. It was a wall of flesh taller than him. “Oh yeah, you can’t get there! Hang on.” Mike picked up Greg, lifted him over the bulging quads, and let him drop a few inches onto the bed, bouncing for a moment like a pillow-trampoline before he got to his feet again. The flesh of Mikes’ massive powerlifter squat-butt, even sunk into the bed, added enough height that the thick cockhead was just over Greg’s own line of sight. Mike started leaking pre and grabbed his big cock with one thick paw. “Yeah little man, my cock is almost bigger than you! What do you think about that tinyman? What about that?!?” Greg replied, his voice shaking, “Giant bear, you have a giant cock to go with your giant muscles. I...I...I...am in awe of the massive man in front of me.” Mike started stroking his cock, one stroke with each sentence loving & lording his size over his shrunken friend - sometimes looking at Greg, sometimes focused inside his own massive body. “Yeah, you tiny little shit….” Stroke. “I’m your giant…” Stroke. “You always towered over me….” Stroke. “I’m bigger than you ever were…” Stroke. “Thicker and stronger….” Stroke. “Gonna get even bigger…” Stroke. “Tower over fuckin’ everyone….” Stroke. “Tower over fuckin’ buildings....” Stroke. “Tinkertoy shitboxes won’t even reach my goddamn knees….” Stroke. “Cock bigger than a goddamn bus….” Stroke. “Arms bigger than a fucking stadium….” Stroke. Breathe. “Fucking...massive...giant....muscled...POWER...BEAR!!!!!” Stroke. Breathe. Pant. Stroke. And with his final stroke Mike’s abs and butt tightened, curving and crouching him forward off of the headboard, his nuts pulled tight upwards in their sack, and as he could feel himself starting to come he reached to grab Greg with his free hand around the narrow waist and hips. Mike leveled his own cock more to flat and holding Greg right in the line of fire, and BELLOWED his giant’s orgasm, stroking faster, and shooting rope after rope of thick white cum over his shrunken friend. Greg put his hands up to keep the sticky, salty, pulsing firehose of thick fluid from burning his eyes and to remain able to breathe. After a solid 8 power-shots coating him, and another few with lessening power, Mike dropped Greg to the bed, again to bounce softly on the thick pillowy mattress. Mike leaned back against the headboard, temporarily spent. Greg remained on his back, looking at the thick powerlifter legs rising on either side of him like a veiny wall, the cock bending slowly from full staff to soft, shrinking gently to point down at him - a one eyed monster, quiescent for the moment. Covered in come in a way he could never have thought of before, resting while Mike was unconscious, Mike’s last words were turning over in his head. Mike was bigger than a building to him - for sure, he’s just twenty four inches tall, of course Mike is like a thirty foot building to him. But, bigger than a building to...everyone? What did he mean? Did he really mean that? And...if he did...and Greg stayed this size...what did that mean for Greg?