Jump to content

Leaderboard

  1. hardtrainer01

    hardtrainer01

    Artist


    • Points

      199

    • Posts

      8,563


  2. Fluke2021

    Fluke2021

    Artist


    • Points

      64

    • Posts

      13,151


  3. GaryD

    GaryD

    Member


    • Points

      58

    • Posts

      1,968


  4. Maxum

    Maxum

    Member


    • Points

      33

    • Posts

      5,434


Popular Content

Showing content with the highest reputation on 04/07/2024 in all areas

  1. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6: I'll never forget that first night back. We didn't stop fucking for 8, 9 hours. Flip flopping over and over again, until our dicks felt too sore to keep going (but still rock hard). If I closed my eyes, I'd be overwhelmed by the feeling, the smell, of Frank's 470 pounds of furry muscle, writhing in my arms. If I opened them, my eyes would land on some grotesquely swollen muscle group, or his freak cock, or his bull neck, or on his handsome (and very roided-out) face, and I'd cum uncontrollably. After his pecs, his face was probably the second hottest thing. You’ve gotta imagine this youthful, handsome, bright-eyed, friendly face — at the helm of a body that would make your knees shake. Thick, short, dark beard that made his kisses and rimming even more intense and masculine. Neck and traps so astonishingly large they seemed to be encroaching on his ears. Veins snaking up and down his neck, and along the side of his buzzed head. His face was noticeably wider from all the roids. Believe it or not, that whole night, in between fucking, every hour or so, we'd pause to eat cold chicken and rice. There were 20 or so Tupperware containers stacked inside the mini-fridges in the dorm room. Nothing -- not even the ardor of touching each other's monstrous bodies after three months of growth -- would stop us from hitting our macros. I could almost feel my muscles growing in real time as I wolfed down pound after pound of bland food. We’d silently eat our fuel, take a swig of water, then go back to fucking like rabbits. By late morning, maybe 11am or so, I'd estimate we had each cum 10 times and consumed about 500 grams of protein. "Fuck bro, you smell so good," I moaned as I buried my face in the dark, thick fur of Frank's pit. His pheromones rubbed into the thick new beard I had grown that summer, coating my face with his scent. "Missed you so much, man," said Frank in his unique voice -- so gentle yet so scarily deep. "You know what sounds hot?" I said. "What?" "Let's take a shower together. I wanna get these muscles all wet and soapy," I said, stroking my swollen pecs. "Oh fuck bro...Oh fuck..." cried Frank. His sore, tired dick was already rising and spurting pre-cum. I was restless to leave the dorm room, in part to see the other students' reactions. You have to remember, this was the Sunday in September before classes started, the first day of college for most people in our dorm. Except for us, everyone in the residence hall was a freshman. As we could hear outside our door, the dorm was a hive of activity, full of little freshman guys getting to know each other, joking, laughing, bonding with their new friends. Not realizing the two muscle freaks that lurked just a few feet away. So picture it. There were eight or so freshman guys out in the hall, meeting each other, chatting amiably, full of nerves on their first day of college. Then suddenly Frank emerged from our room, completely naked. Not very gracefully, either. Even turned sideways, he got stuck in the doorframe — I pushed him from behind, dislodging him. He was covering his cock with a towel, a full-size towel, but it looked like a hand towel in his muscle paw. His ass completely exposed, cum still dripping down his hamstrings. 470 pounds. Ruggedly handsome, short dark beard, thick dark fur covering his body. Literally the most muscular human being on the planet. Hairy. Everywhere. Naked. One freshman screamed girlishly — genuinely disturbed. The rest went silent. Dead silent. I followed behind Frank. No clothes either, but my towel was at least wrapped around my waist. I was 19 years old, 265 pounds, looking like a superheavyweight IFBB pro walking out on stage -- only I was speckled with Frank’s dried loads. For a second, the dazed guys glimpsed inside our dorm room, saw (and smelled) the vortex of broken furniture, dried cum, jock clothes, tren vials, Tupperware containers, before the door slammed shut behind me. The shared bathroom was right across the hall. Frank swanned right past the shocked, silent onlookers, ignoring them. Pecs bouncing as he walked proudly. You could have heard a pin drop. He rotated 90 degrees to get through the bathroom door. Even sideways, he was so thick that his hairy pecs slid along the doorframe, barely squeezing through, leaving a thick streak of cum, from a load that hadn't dried yet. "Fuck, Frank! This school needs to get some wider doors, bro! Ha ha ha," I said loudly, like a dumb jock, knowing the impression that this jocularity would have on my rapt audience. As if a 470-pound 19-year old was a laughing matter. There was nothing remotely funny about Frank's body. It was terrifying, arousing, unreal, fascinating, like no other human body, ever. You couldn't believe it. You couldn't look away. "Bro, once I hit 500, I won't even fit in sideways," Frank replied. Without looking, I could feel the observers wince. I knew they were thinking: 500 what? 500 pounds? He's talking about being 500 pounds? They knew it was true, yet couldn't believe it -- didn't want to. I followed Frank into the bathroom, stripping off my towel to give the other guys a vision of my bubble butt as I went in. I heard some satisfying gasps behind me. I knew the shock was about my insane muscularity -- they probably hadn't noticed the long stream of Frank's cum dripping out of my hole. I don't even know if the bathroom was empty. We didn't care. We were shameless. We squeezed right in one of the showers, didn’t even try to shut the door, turned on the warm water, and started kissing passionately. We rimmed each other, blew each other, but mostly just felt up each other's muscles in disbelief. We moaned as loud as we wanted to, knowing full well that there was a crowd of guys in the hallway listening. “Bruh, can’t wait to lift together,” Frank said as he dried off his body. “I wanna show you how strong I am. C'mon, let's go back to our room to dry off.” Frank squeezed himself out of the bathroom doorway completely naked, towel thrown over his hairy, watermelon-sized shoulder. An oozing red boner bounced up and down against his veiny thighs. No shame whatsoever. As if the crowd of guys in the hallway didn’t even exist. In doing so, he had thrown open the bathroom door with unbelievable force. An unlucky nerdy freshman who happened to be entering at the same time flew five feet through the air and slammed against a wall. Frank either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Frank didn’t even apologize to the dazed kid— who gazed up at the mountain of naked muscle stomping past him. Frank squeezed back into our dorm room. The door slammed behind him. I was behind Frank, just a soaking wet towel wrapped around my waist. I stopped to make sure the nerd was all right. As I kneeled over him, my luscious pecs were right by his eyes. Soapy water from the shower was dripping all over his face. “You ok bro?” His face turned pink and I could see how badly he wanted to suck on my muscle tits. My nipples were so close to his lips, he started puckering his mouth like a baby. I realized he was fine and stood up, making sure to swerve my insane bubble butt right in front of the nerd’s face. Just a thin, sopping-wet towel separating his lips from the hottest ass he'd ever seen. I stood up to waddle back to the room to rejoin Frank. But one of the freshman guys was standing in my way, blocking the hall. He was clearly a jock. Baseball or football from the look of it. He had a handsome face, sort of like Travis Kelce, and a great build -- 6'1", 210 pounds, all muscle. Behind him a posse of six other guys (much smaller) were standing -- trying to look tough but clearly petrified of me. "What the fuck, bro?" said the jock. "You guys need to put some clothes on. Nobody wants to see this gay shit--" He had barely finished his sentence when I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall with incredible force. In doing so I had dropped my towel, so my body was naked and glistening in all its glory. I raised the jock a few inches up the wall by his neck; he kicked his toes, trying to find purchase. The other boys recoiled and jumped back. Two of them started to run away. I turned my head and growled, "YOU STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE." They stopped dead in their tracks. The jock who had confronted me was struggling to breathe. His face was turning red. He tried pathetically to peel my arms away. He felt weightless. Choking him like this, holding him off the ground, felt as easy as lifting a pillow. Before he could pass out, I let him fall. He coughed and gulped for air, looking at me with a mix of fury and terror. I flexed a freaky 21-inch arm in his face. "Kiss it," I told him. He looked so mad that you could fry an egg on his forehead. But he complied, pecking my veiny peak in the lamest possible way. "NO!" I bellowed. "Polish it you fuck." Then he slurped the peak, kissed it the same way that he'd kiss a woman's tits. The other guys were absolutely horrified, but they couldn't look away from the show I was putting on. They were shocked beyond words: The scene unfolding belonged in a prison shower, not a college dorm. After 10 seconds of watching the jock suck on my bicep, my dick was as hard as it had ever been. I was completely naked. Cock throbbing and leaking in front of a bunch of strangers half my size. My behavior surprised even me. I'd never physically fought anyone in my life. Yet I was getting great pleasure from putting on this display. It felt natural. Was this "roid rage?" I withdrew my huge arm. "Now, you listen to me," I said, with a scarily masculine voice to match my body. "If you stay out of our way, we'll stay out of yours. But if I hear one word, ONE more fucking word, you're gonna regret it. And if ANY of you" (I turned to stare down the other guys, who recoiled in fear) "even thinks about reporting us, about saying anything to the school...I will find out who. Believe me. And when I do, well, it's not an ass kicking you'll have to worry about." I twirled the jock around like a rag doll and slammed his stomach against the wall. I squeezed his muscular ass, stroked his furry hole with my finger. He whimpered. "Woof, nice," I went on. "And if you think I'm rough, well, wait till Frank gets a hold of you. You know, Frank? The 470-pound bodybuilder in the room over there? Hah. Now does anyone have anything else to say to me? Anyone?" Total silence. "Good." -- I'm not sure if Frank was listening from inside our dorm room. All I know is that when I entered -- still hard from this little scene -- I was shocked to see him on all fours on the mattress on the floor. Ass up. Still dripping warm water from the shower. His slightly hairy back was so wide he could have touched both walls of our dorm room at the same time. So much muscle twitching and flexing -- muscle groups I didn't even know existed. The sheer mass of his hairy bubble butt and legs made me dizzy. Frank looked back at me, a scary, serious expression on his face. He was barely able to turn his head, atop his swollen traps and freakish neck. "FUCK ME!!!!" Frank roared — loud and deep enough to make your heart stop. Not asking. Commanding. I got chills. My dick somehow got even harder. I thought of all the shocked guys in the hallway who had undoubtedly heard that command through the paper-thin walls. My throbbing cock slipped into his beautiful, hairy hole. “UNNNNH!” he yelled as I entered him, even louder than before. “FUCK MEEE!!!” Within ten seconds, my eyes landed on the spot where his hairy traps met his buzz-cut neck: the biggest traps to ever exist, the thickest neck to ever exist. I saw the beautiful, crazed, still-boyish eyes that looked back at me, taking in my own enormous muscles. I saw his face: red, flushed, surrounded by veins and beard and stubble and muscle. A true freak. An actual monster. Muscles and hormones elevated beyond human limits. Then I thought of my own size, how far I was on my own path to freakdom...How I'd surely be in the 300-pound club before long.... It was too intense. I felt a warm gushing feeling overtake my cock and I came uncontrollably. I started to cry real tears, that’s how overwhelming the pleasure was. “YOU CAME!? NOOOO!!” Frank roared. He went berserk. He slammed his gorilla forearms on the ground. The entire room shook. Stuff toppled over everywhere. For the first time since we first met, I was scared of him. He slammed me down on the mattress and towered over me. From my vantage point, his hairy, dripping pecs obscured everything but his crazy eyes. A continous stream of pre-cum leaked from his cock, right onto my abs. “FUCK ME!!!” he raged. “Frank, I can’t. I just came, I need a min—“ He bent down and swallowed my cock, which was covered in cum and still oozing. He sucked off every drop of cum, savoring it. I cried out: my sensitive dick couldn’t handle the suction. Despite my 265 pounds of bulging muscles, I felt weak and pathetic under his mass. Now I knew how that jock felt. “FUCK ME!!” “Frank, just give me five—“ “NO! NOW!!!” He shoved me down on the mattress then started smothering my face with his pecs. Over and over he ground my face into his wet, furry chest. Then he stuck his tongue down my throat, while engulfing my head with his 26” arms. My eyes were wide open, taking in the awesome sight of his muscles in my peripheral vision. Like Popeye with the spinach, this made my cock rock hard again, a mere 60 seconds after I had bred him. Frank backed up and sat on my boner, riding it manically. His face was red. Sweat poured from every inch of his body. I felt like a hippo was sitting on my lower body, that’s how heavy he was. Frank’s wild eyes were scanning my new muscles: my massive, plump pecs, my amazing shoulders, my veiny biceps. He bounced up and down, his hard cock slapping my abs over and over again like a drummer. “OH FUCK, OH FUCK MAN, UNNNHH!” he yelled as my cock tore through his hole for the 10th time that day. I couldn’t tell you what was more intense: the pain of my sore dick, the weight of his body on top of me, or the pleasure I was feeling in spite of everything. After about 10 minutes of this, Frank started to cum. Explosively. He sprayed a gigantic load all over my face, right into my open mouth. My own cock let loose, and I released another warm load into his already dripping muscle hole. He flexed two 26-inch arms as I unloaded. The pleasure was too much for me. The room went dark. I closed my eyes. I briefly lost consciousness. When I woke up, Frank was holding me in his arms, kissing my shoulder affectionately, kneading my massive pecs. I grabbed onto his hairy forearm and realized it was about the same size as my own thigh. "Fuckin stud," he whispered, pecking kisses on my veiny neck. --- The first few weeks of sophomore year, the reaction to both of us was wild. A full-blown scandal ensued. Within a few weeks of Frank waddling around campus, the college newspaper published a story about steroids in football, about the college and league’s complicity as players used dangerous amounts of PEDs. Accompanying the article were paparazzi-type photos of Frank walking around campus in a string-like tank top, me beside him. I saved the newspaper clipping, and it's now splattered with cum from the dozens, maybe hundreds of times I've jerked off to it. “College Football Turns a Blind Eye to Football Players’ Steroid Abuse," read the headline. The article pretended to speak to a larger trend in athletics, but it was 99% just about Frank.
    25 points
  2. Part 8 Still plastered against the wall Dave was still at the mercy of his father’s body unable to escape. The cum he had been licking had coursed its way through his body making his pathetic “growth” spurts kick in as his much smaller man hood came instantly. His clothes still hung loosely on his body, not a single tear having formed on them. It felt like a never-ending cycle of his piss potential being rubbed in his face as he heard the earth-shaking moans emitted from his dad and brother who were passionately kissing feeling up each other massive muscles swelling against each other’s bodies, while he sucked away on what felt like a life time supply of cum that had been blasted all over him. Suddenly his father’s foot moved in response to his tongue which had done enough work to catch his father’s attention away from Tommy’s growing body. Finally free his own feet contacted the cum covered floor. While he thought his first response would be to flee from the house, he instead fell to his knees licking up more of his fathers seed desperate for any more growth he could get. “Oh, you’re still here son, I thought you’d run out by now. Well, you better get started the real men of this family are trying to have some fun and this house won’t last much longer wouldn’t want a tiny thing like you to get hurt now would we.” Humiliation surged through Dave as he came to his senses now realizing he was on the floor covering himself in the cum of his own father who was looking down at him grinning from ear to ear as he jerked off his little brother to even greater heights. “Oh, and don’t you worry, you’ll have PLENTY more to drink in a bit so go on outside and get ready for daddies money shot, alright sport!” Dave did as he was told frightened of the gods that he had unleashed upon the world. Getting up and going outside shutting the door behind him he felt a sense of unease as the house looked perfectly normal from the outside. No one would ever suspect that two 12 ft giants were hunched over inside eagerly filling each other to the brim with cum. As he stood there waiting for something to happen, he felt the sudden shaking coming from the nearby ground that grew stronger with each passing moment. He thought it was his dads’ expert thrusts inside Tommy causing them, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. A shadow loomed over him causing his neck to look straight up to see Adrian’s pretty smile beaming down at him larger than ever. “A-ADRIAN! You’re even bigger?!” “Haha you better believe it little man, when you left in a rush for the last shake me and Michael over here got back to having fun.” Adrian raised both his arms flexing them a couple of feet above Dave’s small head, a look of pleasure filled Adrian’s face as his body seemed to shudder with even more growth subtly filling out his biceps as he flexed them. “But guess what we found out……OUR CUM MAKES US GROW!” Both the giant men’s cocks oozed a steady stream of pre pooling at Dave’s feet as he could see them chubbing up at the thought of sucking down on each other’s massive rods. Michael then chimed in “We felt so bad for you, that we figured we’d visit your house after we outgrew our dorm; oh yeah sorry about that your gonna need to look for someplace else to crash by the way.” Dave could see the look on their faces filling with lust as they stared down at Dave like a hungry meal ready to blow him up to massive proportions, as their cocks inflated at a quicker pace lifting into the air nearly smacking his face from their abnormal lengths. The heat radiating off them as the intense smell of sweat and cum filled his nostrils. His gaze now meet eye to eye with Adrian’s massive cock head angrily pulsating in front of his face. “So how about its little man, you want to take a load from a real man and grow?” Just as Dave was about to respond a sudden rumbling could be felt coming from the ground catching all three men’s attention to turn towards the house as deep voices could be heard coming from inside. Dave braced himself for the inevitable that he knew was coming, while Adrian and Michael watched befuddled as to what was happening inside. Their confusion would soon be answered as Tommy’s head broke through the roof of the house. Their legs pushed out knocking down the walls around them, their arms stretching out puffing their massive chests making rubble fall around them. A shocked Michael said “Who the fuck is that Dave? He’s so BIG, even bigger than us!” Before he could utter a word Adrian in his complete state of arousal unloaded a torrent of only precum directly in Dave’s face, his knees buckling causing the ground Dave stood on to shake even more in combinations with the force of his brothers growing body. Now coated in his roommates seed he tried getting their attention again to explain what was happening, but his words fell upon deaf ears as they were mesmerized by the erotic scene of his little bro muscles outgrowing the house, he grew up in. The smaller giants drew closer to the house casting their shadows big shadows behind them onto Dave making him feel so tiny. “YOUR SO TIGHT DAMMIT, HELL OF A FIRST TIME AM I RIGHT DAD” Tommy boomed out. Adrian and Michael both looked at each other gulping as they realized the giant of a man exploding out of Dave’s house was Dave’s own LITTLE brother, furthermore at the fact that not only was he growing, but he had also mentioned Dave’s sexy father alluding to the fact that he was inside him. Suddenly their fathers voice boomed from inside as well. “That’s its Tommy, grow for daddy! Pump me full of all that cum and GROW!” His head burst through the front of the house knocking down the metal door to the ground as he was on all fours, being impaled by Tommy’s monster cock. It seemed as if with each thrust that Tommy gave his dad, his whole body surged with more growth his cock elongated further pushing his dads massive body further outside the house wrecking more of the wall as his boulder shoulders made space for themselves no longer able to be contained. The pain and pleasure of Tommy’s first time was getting to him as he could barely focus on anything than the massive cock inside him, pushing his organs around from how growth hungry his boy was. Picking his head up from the ground he was met with surprise when he saw not only his ant of a son stunned to see him, but his two hunky roommates now bigger than the last time he saw them. Watching the cum dribble from both their cocks, he licked his lips hungrily; giving both men a wink as he beckoned them to come near. Feeling the onslaught of thrusts from Tommy who was fucking him like a wild boar in heat; Completely overwhelmed from the feeling of a man’s ass squeezing his cock for the first time. He felt that needed a bit of a boost to better handle his son and Adrian and Michael were going to help him do just that. Even at their impressive size his growth had already eclipsed theirs allowing him to easily slurp down on both Adrian’s and Michael’s cocks at the same time, the force of his suction almost lifting both men off the ground. As both men felt their balls being drained by a man with years of experience, they turned their heads to kiss enjoying their giant-sized blow job, ready to floor the irresistible giant even larger.
    13 points
  3. Chapter Four Pin, lift, eat, work, sleep, pin, lift, eat, work, sleep, pin, lift, eat, work, sleep. This was Sam’s life for three months. Max gave the orders and Sam followed, without question. Max stared at Sam as he finished running through his posing routine for the fifth time in a row, his third load of cum drenched his abs and chest and he had still not touched is pulsing cock. “I still can’t believe what you’ve been able to achieve in three months.” “Am I ready for the show tomorrow?” Sam said, breathing heavy and sweating profusely. “Ready! If I was entered in that show, I’d drop out now knowing you were showing up.” Max said, wiping sweat from his own forehand. “But they don’t know. No one does, except you. I still can’t thank you enough Max.” Sam said, pulling Max off the sofa with a single hand and planting a passionate kiss on his lips. “Easy there. You need to get some rest. I’ll be back first thing in the morning to pick you up.” Max said. As he closed the apartment door, he heard Sam thumping down the hall towards his bedroom. Sam and Max arrived at the venue at 10 a.m. The place was already buzzing with activity. Max had applied Sam’s second coat of artificial tan that morning and his once pale skin looked like he had been forged from molten bronze. “I pulled some strings with the promoter. You’ll have a private area to setup and they’ve kept your name off the competitor list. Your name will be called last.” Sam smiled, excited and nervous for what was about to happen. “This is going to be wild.” They walked into the backstage area and were directed to their special area. A few heads turned but Sam’s clothes were so oversized, no one paid him much attention. He pulled his hood up and followed Max across the room. They settled in behind a privacy screen that had been strategically placed to hide them from the other people. “I have another surprise.” Max said as he handed Sam one of the many containers of food he had brought and gestured to the left where a small TV had been placed. “You can watch the live feed of the show.” “Nice!” Sam said as he started to eat. “FUCK! Even your face is ripped!” Max commented as Sam chewed. Sam looked at the floor-length mirror leaning on the wall across from him. He pulled down his hood and turned his head. Max was right, with the slightest movement of his jaw, striations appears along with thin veins. The veins travelled from his forehead down to the thick neck muscles sprouting from the collar of his sweater. Sam also marvelled at the facial changes that had taken place in recent months. His brow was a little thicker and his jaw looked strong enough to bite through bone. His extreme level of conditioning made is eyes look a little sunken. Overall, Sam had the face like the freaky bodybuilders he had admired his whole life. “Classic physique is about to start.” Max said, breaking Sam from his trance. As the competitors started to file onto stage, Sam felt a tingle in his stomach. He had stopped peaking at Ben’s profile and was curious about how he would look on stage. “Competitor number 7, Ben Jacobs, 5’10” 197lbs.” Ben strode onto stage with more confidence than last time. It had only been six months since he last competed, weighing 173lbs then. The additional size was impressive and his conditioning was next level. “He’s fucking ripped!” Sam said. Standing next to the other competitors, it was hard not to stare at Ben. His proportions were prefect, every muscle group in perfect balance and his vascularity was far superior. As the lineup started to pose, Ben seemed to dominate each pose. When he turned to showcase his back, flexing his outrageously striated glutes, Sam felt his dick start to get hard. The announcer signalled for the competitors to leave the stage. “Wow! He looks really good. But, it’s time for you to focus. You’ve only got about half an hour before it’s your turn.” Max said, replacing one food container with another. Suddenly Sam felt a wave of anxiety crash over him. All the hard work, torture and pain he’d put himself through for months evaporated. He felt his skin grow moist and clammy. His face must have shown the shift because Max came to sit beside him. “Sam. Look at me. You are going to do great. This is everything you ever dreamed of.” “But what if I don’t! It’s only been three months of real work! What the fuck was I thinking, that’s not enough time!” Sam stammered. “Not enough! Look at you! What you have accomplished in three months, few professionals have done throughout their entire careers. Are you ready? The world isn’t ready for what you are about to show them! Now, take off those clothes so I can fix your tan and oil you up.” Sam wiped away few tears and stood up. As he removed his clothes, the reflection in the mirror started to calm his nerves. He realized he had not only reached his dream for this show, he was well on his way to becoming exactly what he always dreamed of being, a total freak of nature. The heavy weight competitors were being called to the stage. There were five other men. They ranged from 5’8”, 230lbs to 6’1”, 258lbs. The crowd was already worked into a frenzy as they waddled onto stage. “Before we begin, there is one final competitor that has not been publicized.” A hush fell over the audience. “Competing in his first show and only 18 years old, Sam Wilson! Weighing 248lbs at 5’8”!” Sam slowly walked on stage and heard the collective gasp. Only two competitors weighed more, a guy who was 5’10” at 252lbs and the 6’1” guy at 258lbs. At his height, it was immediately obvious Sam was the largest. Sam struggled walking lately with his newly added 67lbs of muscle but it was a problem he loved having. His 34” quads slapped against each other with each step. He was directed to the centre of the stage, the other competitors immediately looked defeated as he moved past them. Sam stopped and turned to face the crowd. A rumble of voices started to rise but among them were obvious screams of shock. Sam squared his shoulders and waited for the posing instructions. He asked Max backstage how much of a pump he needed but glancing at either side, he quickly released his conditioning was far superior to everyone else. He looked down at the top of his ballooning 52” chest and saw countless veins pulsing under his nearly translucent skin. The heat of the stage lights would only cause more vascularity to appear, further highlighting the extremes Sam had undergone to get ready for the contest. The announcer cleared his throat and began to call out the mandatory poses. “Front lat spread.” Sam waited for the others to hit their poses. He looked to his right and could see a large screen just off stage that projected a front-facing view of the stage. Even he was shocked by how different he looked compared to the others. He returned his gaze to the audience and started to flare his lats. His arms rose until they were almost parallel with the floor. Sam’s waist was a mere 30” but he sucked it in, shirking it to a comically small size. While devoid of fat, he flexed his abs anyway, causing the twisted muscles to bulge even more dramatically. With a small repositioning of his legs, Sam closed his eyes as he flexed his 34” quads and 19” calves, the sound of the shocked crowd rose to a thunderous roar. Looking at the screen, Sam saw a few competitors had stopped posing and had turned to look at him instead. “Gentlemen, please stay focused. F-f-front double bicep.” The announcer ordered. Sam relaxed, if you could call it that, and repositioned his legs, causing waves of muscles to flex and swell. With his fists clinched, Sam looked down at this bowling ball-sized 18” forearms, marvelling at how the veins appeared to dance under the bright lights. He quickly threw his arms to the side, feeling his inflated triceps press against his equally pumped lats before transitioning into a double bicep pose. Sam felt every muscle on his body tense and he couldn’t restrain himself. He let out a loud growl that quieted the crowd momentarily. Sam turned his head, fighting against his own trap and shoulder to see how deep and striated his bicep peak looked. With his dark tan, it looked like his skin was ready to tear away to reveal just his oversized muscles. “S-s-s-side chest.” Sam lowered his arm but not before straightening and reflexing them one last time. As he turned to his side, he got a better view of the screen. Whoever was operating the camera had zoomed in so only Sam was showing onscreen. He felt bad but it did offer him a better view of how massive he looked. Sam stuck his arms out, make sure to flex his triceps, showing off the deep striations that covered the surface. He raised his left foot, his calf popped in every direction and his hamstring hung so low, it was only inches from the calf muscle. Sam tensed his glutes, causing the muscles to pulse in waves towards his lower back. As Sam slowly moved his left arm towards his back, he flexed his chest as hard as could. On screen he watched his hulking form transform into a head-to-toe pillar of ripped muscle. As if willing himself to grow even bigger, Sam grunted loudly and flexed harder. “AAARRRGGGHHHH!” The screams from the crowd shook the auditorium. “Fuck.” The announcer mistakenly said into the live mic. “Oh, uh, rear lat spread.” Sam turned is back to the crowd. While he positioned his feet, he continued to flex his glutes with undulating waves, showcasing his incredible muscle control. “Show them just how much of a freak you are.” Sam whispered to himself. As slowly as he could, Sam began to bend his arms, placing his hands at his waist while flexing his mountain-scape of a back. His deeply striated lower back appeared to pulse as his traps looked like they were engulfing his head. With his hands in position, Sam started to spread his lats. The guy standing next to him audibly moaned. Sam turned his head to see he was white as a ghost. When his lats were spread as far as they would go, the roar of the crowd was all Sam needed to know how spectacular he looked. Sam didn’t wait for the announcer to call the next post, rear double bicep. He flexed his glutes, hamstrings and claves as much as he could, knowing just how detailed and striated they looked. Sam extended his hands straight above his head and held them there for a moment, showing every minuscule detail to the audience before slowly lower them into the pose. “Ok. Ok. Rear double bicep.” The announcer said, now taking direction from Sam. The other competitors followed suit although a few had stoped really trying, opting to watch Sam instead. Sam relaxed the pose and noticed them gathering around him with their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open. Sam relaxed and turned to face the crowd. His skin practically glowed from the oil and sweat. He was breathing heavily, having held each pose with as much strength as he could muster. Seeing the other, huge, ripped bodybuilder only watching him made Sam’s confidence soar. He felt like he was living in a dream. He was the freak everyone wanted to see. Sam scanned the stunned faces on stage and prepared to show everyone just how dominate he was. “Stand back!” Sam commanded, ensuring they gave him room so the camera could capture every detail. Skipping the remaining mandatory poses of side tricep and abdominals and thigh, Sam started to transition into a most muscular pose. As arms tensed and began to move towards his tiny waist, the crowd was deafening. A few men on stage covered their mouths, one turned his back to the crowd and covered his crotch. Sam’s arms and shoulders inflated, thick, pulsing veins erupted in every direction, making him look like he no longer had skin. As his hands meet, his pecs appeared to fight against each other for space looking hard enough to stop a bullet. To further empathize his extreme conditioning, Sam adjusted his hands slightly so each pec muscle relaxed and reflexed, while his arms and shoulders twitched and contorted with each movement. “LOOK AT ME!” Sam screamed, unable to hold back his excitement and desire to shock the whole room. Sam’s whole body was trembling from effort. There wasn’t a muscle he wasn’t flexing. His face was contorted with effort and covered with pulsing veins. His neck looked twice as wide as his head as it was being devoured by his throbbing traps. His shoulders, arms and forearms looked like a bundle of thick metal cables designed to hold up a bridge. His pecs inflated so far, they threatened to push his hands apart. Even under all that muscle, his abs were so outrageously detailed, you could grate cheese on them. Sam’s quads and calves were so pumped, there was no visible gap between them. Even the sides of his glutes were clearly visible from the front. “YES! THIS IS WHAT A FREAK LOOKS LIKE!” Sam screamed as he willed himself to hold the pose as long as possible. The crowd had disintegrated into complete chaos. The true fanatics were screaming encouragement while others were covering their eyes. The announcer was speaking into the mic but no one could hear him. “UUURRRGGGMMMMFFFF” Sam bellowed until he could no longer hold the pose. He released it and fell to his knees, his entire body completely spent. The other men on stage moved closer as if to assist but no one had the guts to touch Sam’s still pulsing body. Sam waved them away and managed to stand back up. Although he was no longer flexing, every muscle on his body still looked massive. With a wave to the crowd and without being directed to do so, Sam walked off stage, much of the audience pleading to see more. The chaos extended backstage. Sam walked in and the crowd of other competitors froze in shock. They had been watching the live feed but seeing Sam in person was even more astounding. As Sam moved towards the back of the room, he was patted on the shoulder, fist bumped and a few men even stopped to get a selfie with him. “Sam?” Sam turned to see Ben, still wearing his shiny black classic physique posing trunks. “Ben.” “It is you! Holy shit Sam! What-How-OH MY GOOD!” He stammered. Sam looked at Ben and smiled. “I decided to stop being lazy and skinny.” “But h-h-how? It’s only been six months.” “Turns out I have a knack for getting big. 67lbs in three months, 95lbs since you dumped me.” “That’s impossible!” Ben practically screamed. “Does this not look real?” Sam said, raising his arm and flexing his 21” bicep inches from Ben’s face. “I just can’t believe it. Sam, you are HUGE!” “I’m bigger, a lot bigger but I’m not huge Ben. I’m literally just getting started. At the rate I’m packing on mass, I’ll be twice this huge in a year.” Ben just stared, still unable to comprehend what had happened to Sam in such a short period of time. He also suddenly became aware at how small he felt in Sam’s presence. Ben never lacked confidence but standing next to Sam made him feel tiny and weak. Sam picked up on the shift and stepped closer to Ben. “If you ever decide to take this whole bodybuilding thing seriously, look me up, we could get a workout in or something.” Sam said and walked away, leaving Ben frozen in disbelief. Sam and Max watched the show backstage. Ben won his category. Sam noticed he didn’t look as confident accepting the top prize as he did on stage earlier. The 212 category went to an absolute tank of a man who stood only 5’4”. “You are going to look crazy posing against these other winners.” Max said still riding high from Sam’s performance. “I haven’t won yet.” Sam said. “Right! Like there is any doubt. You destroyed everyone on that stage Sam.” The heavyweights were called back on stage and Sam only had to stand there a minute before his name was announced as the winner, as if the organizers decided it was useless to prolong the inevitable. As the other winners were brought on stage for the final presentation Sam stood amongst the best in each category. Ben avoided him. The 212 winner wanted to pose next to Sam which ended up making him look small by comparison. A few of the others asked if they could have their picture taken with Sam. “The overall winner is….Sam Wilson!” Sam jumped with excitement. He accepted the large trophy and placed it on the floor in front of him. He was supposed to allow the event photographer to just take some pictures but the crowd begged for him to pose more. Sam stepped forward and began to run through a complete posing routine. No one else flexed a single muscle, they only stood and watched. Sam dwarfed everyone on stage. His 248lb body seemed to swell larger with each pose he hit. He made eye contact with Ben as he performed his most muscular pose again. Amazingly, Sam flexed even harder than earlier, willing himself to look as freaky as possible. Ben’s eyes grew wide and terrified at the sight. The Sam he knew was gone and in its place was an absolute mass monster. Every inch of his body was covered in twisted, vein-covered mass. Eventually he turned and left the stage, unable to handle the sight of Sam or unable to hold back his orgasm. Sam didn’t care, he had done something he never thought was possible. As the crowd erupted in applause, he couldn’t help thinking about getting to the gym and growing even bigger. He scooped up his trophies and waddle off stage, the crowd screaming for him to return and flex some more.
    12 points
  4. Oh forgot to mention I decided to extend it beyond one more part, due to a certain someone.
    7 points
  5. Again sorry for the wait, here is another chapter. I have in mind two more already and then a bigger story direction, so hopefully I will have some time to write more often. - Chapter 19 - Family and business Alex was staring at this person that he thought was his mother, and to Milos. Both were very serious and somewhat sorry for the situation. Alex’s mother carefully but clearly explained, getting straight to the point. “Alex, you were born from Milos and another woman, your real mother. Your father was part of an experiment, in the army they targeted already strong soldiers and they injected them with substances to make them stronger. The particular one your father was part of had unclear origins, but although it worked well for him, making him a strong bastard, we didn’t realise that the effects would carry through to the child. When your mother started the pregnancy, there were clear signs that something was off. The fetus grew fast, and was abnormally big. After only 5 months the belly looked like it was ready for the delivery, and it had to be urgently hospitalised. After a few hours in the theatre, you were finally born. Well, you literally ripped your way out, causing damage and blood loss that eventually killed her. At birth you already were 7 kilos (15 pounds), and strong as hell, they restrained you and you ripped the restraints until your mother talked to you and calmed you down. Then you were off to the nursery and your mother died after a few hours, and I arrived and took her place. You quickly realised that you could control your body size, and as a toddler it was incredible to see such muscle and definition. Milos and I were shocked. We have observed you constantly, and we know that your potential is now incredible and you can only get stronger. And you can control your body in amazing ways. But you need help, not just to even improve those qualities but also to get stronger. Me and your father can help you and support you.” Alex was listening carefully. “And what do you want me to do? I’m sure you didn’t do all this for nothing….what should I call you…boss?” “You can call me anything you like, but my colleagues call me Mandy. Anyway, we operate an organisation which has two missions: build the strongest and best men, from bodyguard to warriors, and also provide security services for affluent clients. That can be complicated to explain but let’s say that most of the time we take care of annoying situations.” “Ok, well some of that I already figured out, you guys are not that good at hiding stuff! But I want to know more details, let’s be open and discuss everything shall we?” “Of course, ask anything” As they continue the overdue long conversation, in the other house Mo and Paul were sleeping together still with their hardons fully stiff after the playful evening. As the night kicked in a motorcycle came close to the property, quietly and with the engine off once it got closer. The bike stopped nearby and a big guy stepped off it. He looked very build, big legs, shorts, a cutoff top, two massive arms and a thick neck. He took off the helmet revealing a blonde handsome eastern european look. He took a big plastic case from the back of the bike and stepped towards Alex’s house. He then stopped behind a bush and opened the case, pulling out many pieces building a precision rifle with an optical aim. While sleeping, Mo heard something and he opened his eyes instantly. Paul was fast asleep in his arms. The guy in the bush started aiming inside the house, through the windows he could see Alex, Milos, and the mother. He aimed to her, and took some time to ensure he was not going to miss. He then had a feeling that someone was behind him but he shrugged that off. He turned to check anyway, and he saw Mo, naked, standing behind him, with his monstrous muscles flexed. The man scrambled to get his gun but Mo was lightning fast and he grasped his hand and the gun, and started compressing them. As the bones crunched, the guy started to gasp for air and scream, so Mo grabbed his face with his enormous paw and started crushing it, lifting him off the ground. The guy looked and saw another naked guy behind Mo, it was Paul, looking shocked and terrified. The guy muttered “hellppp” before a wet crunch confirmed that Mo just crushed his windpipe. And the gun was crushed along with the guy’s hand. Mo then dropped him on the floor. “Well well, what do we have here. An idiot trying to sneak under my nose and shoot my friends? No, not this time mate. And I have a treatment for you.” and Mo looked at the plastic strong case for the rifle. “I think we are going to ship you back to your boss, but in that case” Paul was shocked “Fuck man who is this guy and what’s going on? Fuck, what you mean in that case? He won’t fit, he’s a built guy” Mo looked at Paul with a grin “Paul, look and learn” The guy on the ground was struggling to breathe, and was in pain with one hand destroyed. He looked again at the gigantic arab towering over him and was expecting to be shot. Instead, Mo slowly rearranged the guy on the ground and gently laid on top of him. The weight was already enough to make the guy suffocate, but Mo ensured his muscled arms surrounded the guy and his beefy legs also walled his legs. Then the crushing started. “Paul, I want you to feel my muscles. Please” Paul was in a mix of awe and terror as he wasn’t sure what was happening. He saw Mo’s back muscles ripple and turn into stone, his lats flare and all his arms and legs muscles ripple in steel striations. Mo continued to constrict the body of the guy, and wet pops and crunches started to increase in frequency. At the same time he let his engorged cock position itself at the guy’s asshole and with a simple push, he tore the jeans and entered him brutally. The guy spasmed for the pain. With a brutal hip thrust Mo entered him fully, and the hips gave in snapping. As more compression was exerted, the guy’s body started to literally implode in itself. Muscles forged in years of gym training evaporating subdued to the power of the arab titan. As soon as Mo felt Paul’s hands massage and feel his muscles, his cock shot up inside the guy, and he felt the destruction of his organs caused by the tremendous power of his cock explosion. Mo’s abs contracted in an unimaginable powerful thrust, like a garbage compactor, relentlessly constricting his prey in his muscular embrace. The torso caved in and his whole body was slowly reduced to a paper mache of what it was before. Then Mo released his press, folded the guy pulling up his legs and arms, now lanky and bruised, and hugged the folded body with his arms and legs. Giving the final powerful crush, all the bones seem to implode. And Paul failed to contain yet another orgasm, and sprayed over Mo. Feeling that Mo surged with a final crush which compacted further the guy’s body. Releasing the mass, it was now reduced so much that Mo grabbed it and pushed it in the case, with eve spare space in it, before closing it and latching the locks. “Done, told you he would fit” “Fuck, man, fuck! What are you that was ….” “Amazing, that’s all, I know, but relax it is all under control. Go upstairs and wait for me in bed” Paul obediently left and tried to reason on what happened. Mo deposited the case in the boot of his car, he lifted the bike and put it in the garage, before showering in the garden. He then went upstairs and found Paul in bed, shocked. “Relax man, tomorrow we will explain to Milos that we saved your mother, they will be happy to hear that. Now my dick needs your attention” He guided Paul’s hands on his cock and as Paul worked on it, it shot up to its full size in seconds. “Work it hard man, now” Paul tightened the grasp as much as he could and pumped the beast. They kissed passionately, and Mo threw back his head and did a double bicep, while Paul pumped his cock with his paws. Paul shot a load yet again, and Mo finally roared as his huge cock pumped out long ad thick ropes of dark thick cum, splattering on the wall behind Paul. They both collapsed on the bed and Paul hugged the massive muscle monster, breathing heavily. In his mind the events were still replaying and he was in a mix of terror and sexual bliss. And after all, he found it fucking sexy. TO BE CONTINUED
    6 points
  6. 4 points
  7. Love that Frank is huge but still a total greedy bottom
    3 points
  8. Ben is the has-been. I'm interested in what happens to Sam and Max. Would love to see feats of super strength. LOVE the descriptions. I hope there are a dozen more chapters
    3 points
  9. Sam, the Unstoppable Chapter One Sam thought he had won the lottery. His 19 year old boyfriend was a real-life, bulging with muscles, bodybuilder. He discovered his love for muscle when he was 12 and stumbled across a YouTube channel of a well-known professional bodybuilder. That day, he spent hours falling down a rabbit hole of huge, freaky muscle and never looked back. Sam however, was the farthest thing from muscular himself. While his love of muscle grew over the years, he was 18, 5’8” and a skinny 153lb. In fact, aside from his boyfriend, Sam didn’t have much going on in his life. He dropped out of collage after one year, his parents allowed him to keep his small apartment on the condition he got a job. Sam begrudgingly found a job at a big-box fulfillment warehouse that kept him living on his own. The job was easy so Sam didn’t mind too much. With his parents paying his rent, his job provided him money for video games and takeout, pretty much all Sam did when not working. When Ben popped up on the hookup app, Sam almost didn’t swipe. Sam assumed, like most fit guys, Ben would be uninterested in a shrimp like him but to his surprise, they hit it off immediately. Sam couldn’t hide is love for Ben’s body and Ben loved the attention Sam showered on him. Ben was 19, 5’10” and 185lbs when they met. He was thinking of entering his first bodybuilding competition which Sam encouraged with abundance. As Ben packed on more size, reaching 196lbs, Sam was in heaven. As Ben started his diet, he became more lean and shredded and while Sam missed his larger mass, he was equally attracted to Ben’s changing body. A week before his competition, Ben was running through his posing routine at Sam’s place. He was down to 173lbs but what he had lost in size was replaced with a striated, vein-covered muscle. Sam couldn’t get enough. “Wow Ben, you look so good!” Sam said as Ben flared his lats and twisted his small waist to the side. He was competing in the classic physique class, which meant he was wearing shiny black posers that barely covered his ass. “I need to loose a few more pounds. I need to come in super shredded.” Ben said as he held the pose. “I can’t imagine where you can loose more fat. All I see is muscle.” “Yeah, I missed my size initially but I’m kind of loving all these veins.” Ben said, twisting his forearm, causing thick veins to sprout in every direction. “I still can’t believe you never joined my gym. You could have been getting buff while I got competition ready.” Sam wanted to join but every time he summoned the courage, he would compare himself with the massive freaks he secretly admired and his confidence would evaporate. He also worried about being able to concentrate surrounded by big, bulging muscle heads at the gym. Ben knew he was a fan of muscle, but even after four months together, Sam hadn’t shared the full extent of his muscle obsession with Ben. “I didn’t want to interfere with your prep.” Sam said as a coverup, his excuse each time Ben broached the subject. “Whatever, it would have been cool.” Ben said, turning his attention back to his reflection in the mirror. “Now get over here and feel all this hard muscle.” Ben said. Sam jumped off the sofa without needing further encouragement. It was the day of the competition. Sam sat in the audience feeling completely out of place and in the place he always dreamed of being at the same time. It was a small local show but that didn’t stop the flood of huge bodybuilders from showing up. Everywhere Sam looked he saw muscle, on both men and women. He worried he would not be able to control his already raging hard-on before Ben stepped onto the stage. Sam’s heart was beating like a drum when the classic physique class was called on stage. Ben was the third competitor of eight. As he stepped on stage, Sam could barely contain his excitement. Being his first show, Ben looked nervous and was not the biggest guy on stage. His conditioning helped him hold his own but as the judges moved the men around, Sam knew Ben was not in the running for the top prize. That didn’t affect Ben’s joy when he was announced as the fourth place winner. Had there not been an unending parade of muscle on stage for the following classes, Sam would have lost his mind waiting for his chance to congratulate Ben. He sat in complete awe as the men got bigger and bigger as their weight classes were called. When the super heavyweights were called, Sam had to stifle a moan as they waddled on stage. The winner was absolutely enormous and Sam’s cock was throbbing as he hit pose after pose before collecting the overall prize. Sam timidly made his way to backstage, trying his hardest not to gawk at all the smooth, tanned flesh that filled the room. He spotted Ben talking to another competitor across the room. Even surrounded by half naked bodies, Ben looked amazing. The guy Ben was speaking to was a few inches shorter but almost twice as wide as Ben. Ben was laughing at something the other guy said as he turned and saw Sam. “Hey!” “Congratulations! You looked incredible.” Sam said, trying but failing not to look at the guy next to Ben, who looked even bigger up close. “Thanks. Sam, this is Dave. He placed second in the 212 class.” “H-H-Hey, Sam.” Sam stammered. “Nice to meet you. Well done again Ben. Hit me up about that workout.” Dave said as he turned to leave. “I’m going to get changed and then I NEED to get something to eat. I’m going to pig out tonight!” Ben said before rushing off. Sam looked around the room in disbelief he was actually witnessed this. There was huge, ripped, pumped muscle all around him. Something else struck Sam as he scanned the room, no one noticed him. It was as if his small frame was invisible. Maybe it was the amount of people or the numerous mirrors but the bodybuilders were so engrossed in themselves to notice anyone else. Sam’s confidence grew a little and he held his stares a little longer, admiring the flawless bodies. The room erupted in applause as the overall winner walked in. Even in this room, he stood out, clearly the biggest person by a large margin. The other competitors high-fived him, shook his hand and posed for selfies. “Ready?” Ben said, startling Sam. “Y-Y-Yeah.” Sam took a final look around the room as him and Ben left, knowing this image would never be forgotten. The days that followed his competition were hard for Ben. He was disappointed by his placing and when pictures from the show started to appear online, he became extra critical of himself. Sam tried to make him feel better but whatever he did or said was met with insincere thanks. Ben was spending a lot of time on his phone. Sam noticed an influx of text messages. “Is everything ok?” Sam finally asked. “I guess. I need to get a lot better for the show next year.” “And you will. I’ll help you as much as I can.” Sam said. “How will you help Sam?” Ben lashed out with a sudden rush of anger. “I just mean, whatever I can do.” “What, suggesting we get more fast food or playing more video games?” Ben interrupted. “Ben?” “I’m serious Sam. What do you know about bodybuilding? You don’t know anything about how hard it is, how much work it takes to get bigger and better. All you do is laze around here all day.” Sam was hurt. “I’m sorry.” “No you’re not! I’ve been trying to get you to go to the gym with me forever and you never do. You don’t do anything. I think I need to be around people that feel the same way I do.” “What are you saying?” Sam said. “I’m saying I’m breaking up with you Sam.” Sam felt his heart physically skip a beat. His eyes filled with tears as he stood staring at Ben in utter shock. “No.” He muttered. Ben started to toss the few things he’d left at Sam’s apartment over the last few months into his gym bag. By the time he was finished, Sam was practically weeping. “Come on man, did you really think we had a future? Look at you! Sure, we had some fun, you got to jerk off to my muscle and I’ll give you some credit, you can worship my body pretty good but there’s more to a relationship than just that.” “Ben! Please don’t go.” Sam pleaded, wiping his tears. “Later Sam.” Ben said coldly as he closed the door behind him leaving Sam to collapse on the sofa, crying uncontrollably. It took everything in him to make it to work the next day. Sam felt like he was in a haze. He hadn’t slept, eaten or even showered. His job at the warehouse was mindless work fulling orders but even today Sam was struggling to keep up. With his shift over, Sam walked home, thinking only about crawling into bed. He wasn’t paying attention and found himself walking down a street he normally did take. He stopped to orient himself when he saw the sign, “Brutus”. The front window was tinted but getting closer, Sam could see it was a gym. Before he even registered what he was doing, Sam walked through the front door. “I want a membership.” Sam heard himself say as if he was listening to someone else. When Sam woke up in his bed hours later and saw the gym membership card on the table, he had to think hard about how it had ended up there.
    2 points
  10. Hey everyone, I've been busy getting my life together and enjoying it with the love of my life. But I had some parts already written, so here's the next part of the story.
    2 points
  11. 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.
    2 points
  12. 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.
    2 points
  13. The long-expected next chapter! It’s just getting better and better
    1 point
  14. Missed Opportunity Dave a is 24-year-old college meat head who’d known nothing other than being handed everything to him in his life thanks to his charming, good looks and blessed genetics giving him the body that most guys spent their whole lives building, while he only spent a year in the gym and blew up to incredible size. He’d grown accustomed to being the top dog everywhere he went, and it certainly went to his head as many that were around him would certainly tell you that Dave was a *bit* of a douche. Yet even with all his size and charm it just wasn’t enough for him he needed MORE. So, when he stumbled on some new experimental protein shakes that were hitting the market in very limited quantities, he thought why the hell not and bought the last pack that was in stock before the site was mysteriously taken down a day later. A few weeks later all he could think about was the effects that the new shakes could have on his body and the package was scheduled to be delivered to his dorm that very day. He was ready to sprint like mad to get home and down one of the four shakes before or after his workout. But as he would soon find out it wasn’t just the shakes that he would find waiting for him when he got back home. ---- After his workout he excitedly rushed home heading down the hall ready to improve his gains even further. But as he drew near the door, he could hear noises coming from inside. His two dweeb twink roommates were surely there which already made him angry. He wanted to enjoy his post workout pump alone with no distractions. His roommates Adrian and Michael were both gay and he knew how bad they wanted him from day one, but he didn’t swing that way, although that didn’t stop him from soaking up all their adoration and teasing them with the body of a god they could never get with. Opening the door, he was met with a scene out of his worst nightmares. Adrian and Michael were grinding up on each other fully nude and they were both HUGE! “What the fuck dweebs! What happened to you two?!” The two former twinks were laid out on the couch each of them man spreading their mammoth legs completely filling the couch as their thighs pressed against each other, both of their impressive manhood’s now over 9 inches long leaking pre while the two kissed previously. The both of them had to be over 6’2 looking massive even compared to himself. “Oh, hey Dave didn’t hear you come in.” Adrian said in a luscious deep voice. “Bro thanks for those shakes they were fucking GOOD!” Michael said licking his lips as he looked at Dave with a hunger in his eyes. More terror filled Dave’s mind as he realized his roommates had opened his delivery and take the shakes for themselves. “Please fucking tell me you dweebs didn’t drink them all.” “Don’t worry were not monsters of course we left you one.” Adrian said. Without a second thought Dave’s body moved on its own scouring for the shake in the kitchen seeing the pack torn open with only one bottle of the four left by itself. He quickly twisted the cap off and chugged it down eager to see the results it would have on his body since his small scrawny twink roommates blew up to monstrous sizes. Adrian and Michael watched in horny anticipation as they were waiting to watch the guy, they’ve been pining for grow into a god. The process was already starting. His stomach bubbling as the shake slid down his throat. His muscles growing fuller at a slow rate as he was painfully aroused his average 6 incher tenting in his shorts as his body started pumping itself larger. But like most of his advances in bed the growth that came finished within seconds his cock exploding in his shorts as Adrian and Michael watched in disbelief. Dave had never been more embarrassed in his life as he felt like he had only added a measly 10 pounds of muscle and not an inch of height to his body as his godly roommates looked at him with disappointment in their eyes. “What the hell did you dweebs do why didn’t I grow like you two?!” “Dunno man we just drankem like you did.” Adrian responded. Michael chipped in “Guess you shouldn’t have been so proud of those genetics after all huh Dave!” Dave was appalled by Michaels observation, it filled him with a sense of humiliation and need to lash out, but as he looked at the much larger man in front of him, there was nothing he could do but accept his fate. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse a guttural moan escaped Adrian’s cum ridden mouth. Bracing himself against Michael “OH FU- … IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN!” “oh god….PLEASE NO!” was all Dave could think as every single muscle in Adrian’s body rippled with strength as he grew once again now becoming inhumanely large as he bucked against Michaels body. In all his euphoric torment Adrian was at the mercy of Michaels touch as he pleaded for sweet release. “please bro….help!” was all he could mutter as Michael quickly understood and proceeded to help his friend out Taking his large head into his mouth he put his skills to good use as Adrian quickly blew his load into his mouth as his growth subsided. Michael struggled to chug down the copious amounts of cum being blasted down his throat almost choking as he savored every drop that was being shot into his stomach. Minutes pass as Dave was left mortified, glued to the ground he stood on unable to look away as Aiden had become the very thing, he so desperately craved for himself. As he got control of his body again Adrian pulled Michael off his 13 incher and sat him on his lap his head now over a foot taller than Michaels. He then turned his hear upwards muttering out a thank you before planting a kiss on his lips as thanks for his help. Breaking the kiss, he looks back at Dave seeing the man that was once huge to him looking up at him with awe and jealousy. “Don’t look so glum bro maybe you just didn’t grow enough the first time…well for your sake I hope there is a next time.” Adrian’s words cut into him like a knife destroying his confidence so easily for the first time in his life. He couldn’t even get a word out trying to respond as he watched the two gods enjoying their new bodies together. That’s when Michael chipped in with his own thoughts. “Oh, maybe there’s hope for you yet. Your dad swung by earlier and he took one of the shakes with him before we got into them.” A chill ran down Dave’s spine hearing Michaels words now only thinking one thing. “I’ve got to get home and pray that dad hasn’t drunken that shake.”
    1 point
  15. 1 point
  16. 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.
    1 point
  17. Sam did get off his ass.. and erupted!! The whole story was an incredible come back.. Wow!! Truly loved your descriptions.
    1 point
  18. I want Ben to go crazy trying to catch-up with Sam. Imagining a 450lbs Sam fucking a 300lbs Ben unconscious.
    1 point
  19. God, I love your descriptions. The waddling really got me
    1 point
  20. Hi guys. Long time lurker here. I've been working on a story blending together the elements of some of my favorites, including "Jason: The Bigger the Better," "Elongro," "A New Performance Incentive," and "Contract Law" with my own twists. I love guys growing huge, but I don't see enough of them adjusting to their new bodies. Don't expect a ton of sex or continuing growth--the main character grows all at once and then the rest of the story is about him adjusting (although there will be plenty of explicit scenes and some continued growth). It's a slice of life, and there will be a lot of repetitive scenes. There's a bit of an overarching plot that begins after the initial growth adjustment but nothing too complicated. No, I will not be taking suggestions, the story is already written and I'm just making slight edits. Hope you enjoy! KING OF THE COURT PROLOGUE Vikram Singh, the youngest sibling at 25, often finds himself in the towering shadows of his brothers, both literally and figuratively. His eldest brother, Gurinder, stands at a formidable 6 foot 7 inches, with a presence as commanding as his height. At 32, Gurinder's life is a testament to discipline and precision, his career as a software developer marked by a series of calculated moves that have led to a string of successes. His short topknot and beard are not just a style statement but a reflection of his no-nonsense approach to life. He speaks sparingly, but when he does, his words carry the weight of thoughtful analysis. Harminder, the middle brother, is even taller at 6 foot 9 inches. His fashion is as sharp as his wit, with three-piece suits that seem to be crafted just for him. His jet-black hair, always in a perfect coiff, complements his meticulously groomed short beard. As an attorney at counsel at Gully & Sons LLP, Harminder's brilliance is as renowned as his sarcasm. His reputation precedes him, not only within the legal community, where he's been named the #1 Young Lawyer to watch, but also in social circles where his charm makes him a favorite among women. His ambition is palpable, with his eyes firmly set on the prize of partnership. In contrast, Vikram, or Vik as he's affectionately known, carries a different kind of presence. Standing at 5 foot 9 inches, he lacks the imposing stature of his brothers but makes up for it with a charisma that is all his own. His low taper fade haircut and short beard give him a boyish charm that endears him to those he meets. As a first-year associate at Gully & Sons LLP, Vik's journey is just beginning. His honesty and trustworthiness have earned him the respect of his peers, even if he doesn't always feel like the sharpest tool in the shed. Living together in a house Gurinder owned in the city, the brothers' interactions are a mix of playful banter and deep-seated loyalty. The house is one with tall ceilings, tall doors, and wide halls to accommodate the two huge older Singh boys. Gurinder and Harminder, protective to a fault, often treat Vik like the baby of the family, their teasing a sign of affection, albeit sometimes bordering on annoyance. Vik, for his part, navigates their overprotectiveness with a mix of frustration and love, knowing that beneath the surface, there's an unbreakable bond that ties them together. Their home is a microcosm of their world, where each brother's unique traits contribute to a larger, more complex picture. It's a place where Vik's charm, Harminder's intellect, and Gurinder's stoicism come together, creating a balance that, while sometimes precarious, always finds its way back to harmony. CHAPTER ONE: A WHOLE NEW WORLD Exhausted from the relentless demands of his role at Gully & Sons LLP, Vikram had succumbed to the comfort of his silk pajamas, a small act of rebellion against the endless hours. He would keep them in his office and wear them once everyone else had left to relax. He looked stupid in them—like Ebineezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol. But Vik was a sucker for comfort. The office was silent, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the day. As he settled into his chair, the case files for Accelercola—an energy drink company under fire for its potentially lethal product—loomed over him like a dark cloud. The company came under fire when it was revealed that a certain batch of the drink contained over four times the amount of caffeine it was supposed to have, causing heart attacks in several customers. The senior partner, Rebecca Lawson, had entrusted him with a critical task: to send a batch of the contaminated energy drink for testing. But fatigue clouded Vikram's judgment, and he placed the case of Accelercola perilously close to his personal cache of Diet Coke. Hours ticked by, and the night deepened. Vikram's hand, guided by muscle memory, reached for a can. The hiss of the opening was familiar, but the taste was anything but. A fiery sensation spread through his mouth, an unexpected spiciness that made him gasp. Heat flushed through his body, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Panic set in just as darkness claimed him, and he collapsed into a cold sweat. When consciousness returned, the world seemed different—smaller. Vikram's silk pajamas were stretched to their limits, barely containing the new, muscular form beneath. He was a giant among men, standing at an astonishing 12 feet. The ceiling, once a distant overhead, now allowed for only a foot of clearance. A primal urge led him to the bathroom, but the journey was fraught with obstacles. The doorway, a portal he had passed through countless times, was now a barrier. His head met the wall with a thud, leaving a dent as a testament to his newfound stature. Cursing under his breath, Vikram maneuvered through the wreckage, his body a mass of rippling muscles and raw power. The bathroom mirror revealed the extent of his transformation. His reflection was that of a Desi Hercules, a bodybuilder with a physique that artists would clamor to sculpt. A smile crept across his face, a mix of disbelief and excitement. "This is gonna be good," he murmured, his voice a deep, resonant timbre that vibrated through the room. Vikram's mind raced with possibilities. His brothers, always the protectors, would now see him in a new light. The cases that had weighed him down seemed trivial in comparison to the strength he now possessed. As he explored his new form, a sense of invincibility washed over him. He was no longer just Vikram Singh, the overwhelmed attorney—he was a force to be reckoned with, and he was more than ready to embrace this extraordinary twist of fate. He managed to pull down his barely together silk pajama bottoms without tearing them to shreds. Vik suddenly because aware of the new size of his phallus. Vik had always been average in every department. But this thing was monstrous. Vik realized he was too tall to piss in the urinal standing up. He fell to his knees and the bathroom shook as he released his firehose piss in the bowl. The sensation of the powerful piss stream traveling down his long and girthy tool was euphoric. The sound of his powerful stream echoed off the bathroom walls, reverberating with a force that matched his newfound physical strength. Vikram couldn't help but marvel at the sheer intensity of the experience. As he stood up, a sense of euphoria surged through him, blending with the rush of adrenaline that came with his colossal transformation. As Vikram emerged from the bathroom, his new towering form was a sight to behold. Jasper, a fellow first-year who had arrived at the office unusually early (on a Saturday to boot), was frozen in place, his eyes wide with astonishment. The sight before him was something out of a comic book—a colleague who had grown into a giant overnight. "Vik... is that really you?" Jasper stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a grin, Vikram flexed his muscles, the sheer size of his biceps casting shadows on the walls. "It's me, Jasper. Just a bit... upgraded," Vikram replied, his deep voice filling the room. Jasper's initial shock gave way to curiosity as he circled Vikram, taking in the unbelievable transformation. "How did this even happen?" he asked, his scientific mind already running through the possibilities. Vikram, still reveling in his newfound strength, simply shrugged. "I guess I just needed a little pick-me-up," he joked, bouncing his pecs with a chuckle. Realizing the practicalities of the situation, Jasper quickly agreed to help Vikram find suitable clothing. Vik waited in his office, sitting on the floor and fondling his new muscles for about 2 hours. Jasper returned with an assortment of athletic and dress clothes, which, against all odds, fit Vikram's massive frame—albeit snugly. God knows where he got them, but Vik didn’t care. At least he could leave this office. As Vikram slipped into the black athletic shorts, he gave another flex for Jasper, who couldn't help but laugh. "You're going to need a whole new wardrobe, man," Jasper said, shaking his head in disbelief. The notification on Vikram's computer caught his eye, and he read aloud the message from the senior partner, Rebecca Lawson, granting him a day off on Monday for his hard work. "Looks like I've got some time to adjust to this," Vikram mused. Determined to leave the office before anyone else saw him, Vikram attempted the elevator, only to find that he was far too large to fit. The stairs were his only option, and as he descended the 51 flights, he felt the stairwell shrink around as his shoulders crashed into the walls, leaving many a dent in his wake. CHAPTER TWO: TELL IT TO ME STRAIGHT, DOC The morning air was crisp as Vikram stepped outside, the city still quiet in the early hours. With each stride, his towering form drew curious glances from the few passersby on the street. He made his way to the office of Dr. Julian Brownly, his endocrinologist, and the one person he hoped could make sense of his bewildering transformation. Vik had been seeing him since a potential thyroid scare a couple years ago. Dr. Brownly, a brilliant and handsome 30-year-old physician with a passion for bodybuilding, was taken aback as Vikram ducked through the doorway of his clinic. The doctor stood at a modest 5'9", a stark contrast to Vikram's colossal stature. "Vikram, what on earth..." Dr. Brownly trailed off, his professional curiosity piqued. Without wasting a moment, Dr. Brownly set to work, measuring Vikram's height, taking blood samples, and running a series of tests. The clinic seemed to shrink around them, the equipment dwarfed by Vikram's size. The doctor had to measure Vik laying down as there was no way he could reach his lofty head. “Twelve feet on the dot.” The doctor said, astonished. Vik sat up and flexed his arms— “I like how that sounds. Vikram the 12-foot-tall giant.” As he heard his measurement, Vik’s already immodest bulge thickened into a fat semi. The doctor could not help but stare, but quickly composed himself to return to his work. After a thorough examination, Dr. Brownly delivered his findings with a mixture of concern and astonishment. "The Accelercola—it wasn't the cause of your growth. It was laced with something lethal. But somehow, your body reacted... differently," he explained. Vikram listened intently as Dr. Brownly revealed the existence of a dormant 'giant gene' within him. A rush of hormones, triggered by the contaminated drink, had activated the gene, altering his body to save his life. A sense of pride swelled within Vikram. He stood taller—if that was even possible—and flexed his muscles, a playful smirk on his face. "So, I'm not just a giant in the courtroom now, huh?" he teased. Dr. Brownly couldn't help but smile at Vikram's good humor, despite the gravity of the situation. "You're certainly something special, Vikram. But we need to monitor you closely," he cautioned. Vikram nodded, but his attention was elsewhere. He caught his reflection in the mirror, his new form a marvel to behold. He bounced his pecs, the movement sending ripples across his chest. The feeling was exhilarating, empowering. "Looks like I've got some new assets to work with," Vikram quipped, turning to Dr. Brownly, who was scribbling notes furiously. Dr. Brownly looked up, adjusting his glasses. "Just remember, don’t try to take on too much more heart stress. Your labs are perfect, better than perfect, but who knows what could happen," he said, with a tinge of concern. Vikram laughed, the sound deep and resonant. "Don't worry, Doc. I'll be fine. I think I might be close to invincible now." Vik glanced down at Dr. Brownly’s modest 5’9”. From his new vantage point, he laughed— “is that what I used to look like?” Vik came dangerously close to the doctor, his body heat radiating onto the smaller man. “No wonder Gurinder and Harminder thought I was a midget.” The doctor, a once proud bodybuilder gulped. “Let’s schedule a follow up in a few weeks to make sure you are still good.” With his newfound confidence, Vikram thanked Dr. Brownly and left the clinic, his mind racing with possibilities. The world was a different place for him now, and he was eager to explore it with his giant steps. As Vikram Singh, now a giant among men, exited Dr. Brownly's office, the morning rush was beginning to swell on the streets. His departure was anything but inconspicuous; pedestrians halted mid-stride, their expressions a blend of awe and disbelief. Children pointed, their eyes wide with wonder, while adults fumbled for their phones, eager to capture the extraordinary sight. Vikram, however, was unfazed by the attention. With a confident stride, he made his way to a local cafe, a quaint establishment he had frequented in his former, more average-sized life. CHAPTER THREE: SUPERHERO DAY Ducking to avoid the top frame, Vikram entered the cafe, the bell above the door jingling in his wake. He relished the sensation of his muscles flexing and contracting as he navigated the narrow doorway, the fabric of his black shorts stretched taut over his powerful legs. The cozy interior was a stark contrast to his grandiose physique. Patrons glanced up from their lattes and laptops, their conversations trailing off as they took in the sight of the colossal newcomer. Behind the counter stood Evan, a barista Vik had never seen before. His eyes met Vikram's, and for a moment, there was a silent exchange of mutual respect—Evan for the man who dared to dream beyond his size, and Vikram for the artist who sought to capture the essence of life in song. "Quite the entrance," Evan remarked, his tone light and playful. Vikram chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "Just trying to fit in," he quipped, flexing his arms casually. The motion was fluid, a testament to his newfound strength and control. Evan couldn't help but be impressed. "Well, you certainly stand out," he said, reaching for the largest jug he could find. "And I suppose you'll be needing coffee to match." The two engaged in conversation, their topics ranging from the mundane to the profound. Vikram shared his aspirations and challenges, while Evan spoke of melodies and harmonies that danced in his head, waiting to be set free. As Evan prepared a giant jug of coffee, the rich aroma filling the cafe, Vikram found himself grateful for the normalcy of the interaction. It was a reminder that despite his dramatic change, the simple pleasures of life—like a good chat over coffee—remained unchanged. Evan slid the jug across the counter, a smile playing on his lips. "Here you go, a brew fit for a giant." Vikram accepted the jug with a nod of thanks, his large hands enveloping the container. "You know, Evan, maybe this size isn't such a bad thing after all," he mused, the steam from the coffee warming his face. Evan laughed, the sound mingling with the soft notes of jazz playing in the background. "Just don't outgrow us all, Vik." With a final wave, Vikram left the cafe, his spirits lifted by the encounter. The city was waking up, and with each step, he felt more at ease in his towering frame, ready to face whatever the day might bring. --- Vikram, with his newfound stature, strode through the city streets, the giant coffee jug in his hand now seeming no larger than a regular cup. His destination was the law library, a repository of legal wisdom where he hoped to unearth a long-forgotten case citation for work. The morning sun cast long shadows on the pavement, mirroring the elongated silhouette of his imposing figure. As he approached the library, a shrill screech pierced the air. Vikram's sharp eyes caught sight of a school bus, its frantic driver wrestling with the steering wheel as the vehicle barreled down the street, brakes evidently failed. Without a moment's hesitation, Vikram set his jug down and sprinted towards the impending disaster. The ground trembled beneath his colossal strides. Onlookers gasped, their fears for the children on the bus momentarily eclipsed by the spectacle of this giant man in motion. Vikram reached the bus just as it neared a busy intersection. With a roar of effort, he planted his feet firmly on the asphalt and extended his arms, his hands grasping the rear of the bus. Metal groaned under the force of his grip, and with a herculean heave, Vikram slowed the bus's momentum. Sparks flew as his shoes slid across the ground, his muscles bulging with the strain. Inch by inch, he brought the runaway vehicle to a halt, just shy of the crosswalk. As the dust settled, Vikram stood tall, towering over the bus. The children inside, wide-eyed and breathless, peered out the windows at their savior. The driver, overwhelmed with relief, mouthed a silent 'thank you' as emergency services arrived on the scene. Vikram surveyed the crowd that had gathered, their expressions a mix of awe and gratitude. He had become more than just a lawyer or a giant; he was a hero in the truest sense. With a nod to the first responders, he retrieved his coffee jug and continued on his way to the library, his heart pounding not from exertion, but from the realization of his own strength and the difference he could make. --- The library doors, once imposing, now felt like gateways to a new chapter in his life. As he ducked inside, Vikram knew that no matter how tall he stood, it was his actions that truly made him larger than life. Vikram's arrival at the library was a moment of relief; the high ceilings allowed him to stand tall, unencumbered by the fear of bumping his head. The scent of old books and the quiet whispers of knowledge-seeking patrons filled the air. It was here, amidst the rows of legal tomes, that he met Marcus. Marcus, the law librarian, was a 28-year-old with a physique that spoke of hours dedicated to bodybuilding. Yet, even his well-defined muscles seemed modest in comparison to Vikram's towering form. Marcus couldn't hide his fascination, his eyes tracing the contours of Vikram's massive frame, which dwarfed his own 6-foot stature. "Never thought I'd meet a real-life Goliath in the stacks," Marcus joked, breaking the ice. Vikram laughed, the sound echoing off the library walls. "And I never thought I'd need to duck under doorways," he replied, gesturing to his height. As they conversed about obscure case laws and landmark rulings, a camaraderie formed between them. Their shared passion for the law bridged the gap that Vikram's size might have created. It wasn't long before Marcus enlisted Vikram's help with a problem: the library's ladder was broken, and a stack of books awaited reshelving on the highest shelves. With ease, Vikram lifted the volumes, organizing them with a care that belied his size. Marcus directed him to the right sections, impressed by Vikram's ability to handle the delicate task. After the work was done, Marcus scribbled his phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Vikram. "How about we hit the gym together? I could use a workout buddy, especially one who doesn't need a spotter for the heavy weights," he said with a grin. Vikram accepted the offer with a nod. "I'm in. It's not every day you find a friend who's not intimidated by a little extra height," he responded, tucking the number into his pocket. As Vikram left the library, he felt a sense of belonging. His size might have changed, but his ability to connect with others hadn't. With a new friend and potential gym partner, Vikram's world seemed a little less daunting. --- Vikram's stomach grumbled with the ferocity of a thunderstorm, echoing off the skyscrapers as he lumbered down the street. Hunger pangs struck with such intensity that he half-expected to see a 'Feed Me' sign hanging from his neck. Spotting an 'All You Can Eat' buffet, his face lit up like the neon sign above the entrance. As he ducked into the restaurant, a collective gasp rose from the patrons. The maître d' froze, clipboard in hand, eyes tracing the arc of Vikram's stooped entry. "Table for one?" he ventured, the question sounding more like a hope against hope. Vikram nodded, his eyes already scanning the smorgasbord of culinary delights. The maître d' led him to a table, but it was clear that no mere piece of furniture could accommodate Vikram's colossal frame. With a sheepish grin, Vikram opted to stand, his plate resting on the table like a toy saucer. Plate after plate, Vikram sampled everything—the roast beef, the sushi, the exotic cheeses, and an impressive mountain of shrimp. The other diners watched in awe, their own forks paused mid-air as Vikram devoured dish after dish. The chefs in the back began to sweat, their culinary creations disappearing faster than they could say 'buffet.' Finally, with the contented sigh of a man who had eaten his fill, Vikram leaned back—careful not to topple over the dessert cart—and let out a belch that rumbled through the restaurant like a bass note in a symphony. Patrons chuckled, and even the staff couldn't suppress their smiles. The restaurant owners, a charming couple who had never seen their buffet so thoroughly appreciated, approached Vikram with a mix of trepidation and fascination. "Sir, we must say, we've never had a customer quite like you," the wife said, her eyes wide with wonder. Vikram winked, flexing an arm as thick as a tree trunk. "Well, I do have quite the appetite. Hope I didn't cause too much trouble," he teased, the corner of his mouth twitching with a playful smirk. The husband laughed, shaking his head. "Trouble? No, no. You've set a new record! Tell you what, come back anytime, and we'll make sure to reinforce the tables." As Vikram thanked them and squeezed back out the door, the couple exchanged glances. "Maybe we should start a new promotion," the husband mused. Vikram strolled away, his hunger sated and his spirits high. The city had never seemed so small, nor the buffet so endless. CHAPTER FOUR: SHOWDOWN AT THE SINGH HOUSE Vikram's journey home was a study in contrasts. The familiar streets seemed narrower, the doorways smaller, and his own house appeared as if it had shrunk. He had to twist and turn to squeeze through the front door, feeling a bit like Alice after she drank the potion in Wonderland. Inside, the world was different from this new vantage point. The ceilings felt lower, the furniture doll-sized. Vikram marveled at the transformation, a grin spreading across his face as he realized the power and size he now possessed. He stretched out an arm, his hand almost spanning the width of the hallway. The sensation was intoxicating. Gurinder walked in first, his eyes glued to his phone, not noticing the colossal figure of his younger brother. It wasn't until he bumped into Vikram's leg, which he mistook for a new, oddly placed column, that he looked up. "Vik...?" Gurinder's phone clattered to the floor, his voice a mix of shock and awe. "What in the world happened to you?" Harminder, entering behind him, stopped dead in his tracks. "You're... huge!" he exclaimed, his eyes traveling the length of Vikram's towering form. Vikram beamed, his chest swelling with pride. "Yeah, it's a long story. Let's just say I had a bit of a growth spurt." Gurinder circled Vikram, his analytical mind kicking in. "This is incredible. You must be over twelve feet tall! How do you feel?" Vikram could sense the shift in dynamics as he towered over his brothers, the air thick with unspoken tension. Gurinder's excitement was palpable, his hands gesturing animatedly as he bombarded Vikram with queries about his newfound stature. Harminder, usually the most confident of the trio, now seemed withdrawn, unable to meet Vikram's gaze directly. “What the hell is that?” Harminder asked, pointing at Vik’s prodigal crotch bulge. “Oh, this?” Vik asked innocently as he gave it a squeeze, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Seems like my growth spurt affected more than just my height and muscles," he replied with a chuckle. Harminder blushed furiously, averting his eyes as if trying to unsee what he had just witnessed. Gurinder, ever the scientist, leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. As they settled into the living room, Gurinder couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "How did this happen? Are you some sort of superhero now?" he blurted out, eyes wide with wonder. Vikram chuckled, running a hand through his hair that seemed to touch the ceiling effortlessly. "I wish it were that simple. Long story short: I feel like one,” he replied, trying to downplay the magnitude of his transformation. Harminder finally spoke up, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and envy. "I can't believe this! How did you get so huge overnight?" Harminder's voice quivered with a hint of jealousy, his eyes flickering between admiration and resentment. “And why do you get to be the giant?" Vikram shrugged, a small earthquake in the gesture. "I guess I just got lucky. Or maybe it's karma for all those times you guys used me as an armrest." Vikram could sense the emotional turmoil within his middle brother and decided to address it head-on. "I know this might seem overwhelming, but it's still me, Harminder. Just a different version. And who knows, maybe this could be a blessing in disguise. We'll figure it out together," Vikram said, his tone gentle yet firm. Gurinder nodded in agreement, offering his support with a reassuring smile. "Yeah, bro. We're here for you no matter what. You're still the same Vikram we've always known, just a bit... enhanced," he added with a chuckle. Harminder's expression softened as he absorbed their words. Slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I… I’m still your big bro, I can run circles around you at work, and I can still pummel you. Well, Mr. Giant, how about I prove that size isn't everything? I challenge you to a wrestling match." Vik’s arched an eyebrow, “At work, sure, no doubt. But the pummeling?” A wry smile formed across Vik’s lips, “You wanna go?” --- The backyard of the Singh household had been transformed into an impromptu wrestling ring, the grassy expanse a stage for the brothers' test of strength. Vik, the youngest and now the largest, stood at the center, his massive form casting a long shadow in the afternoon sun. Gurinder and Harminder, no strangers to physical contests, eyed their younger brother with a mix of anticipation and wariness. They were tall and athletic, but next to Vik, they seemed almost ordinary. As the makeshift bell rang, Vik's deep voice boomed across the yard. "Ready to learn a lesson from your little brother?" he teased, a playful smirk on his face. The wrestling began, and it was immediately clear that Vik's size and strength were in a league of their own. His movements were fluid and precise, each muscle in his body working in perfect harmony. His arms, thick as tree trunks, wrapped around his brothers with ease, lifting them off the ground as if they were children. Gurinder grunted as he tried to find leverage, but Vik's grip was unyielding. "I have to admit, you've become quite the force of nature," he said, struggling to break free. Harminder, caught in a similar hold, couldn't help but let out a laugh despite his predicament. "I think 'force of nature' is an understatement. He's more like a one-man earthquake." Vik chuckled, the sound resonating through the air. Vik's muscles rippled under his skin, their power evident in the way they flexed and bulged with every exertion. His brothers could feel the immense strength coursing through him, their bodies pressed against his like pebbles against a boulder. Harminder and Gurinder grunted and strained against Vik's overwhelming force, their attempts to break free met with little success He released his brothers gently, allowing them to regain their footing. "I can't deny it; I love being this huge, this powerful. It's like I've been reborn as an alpha, and I'm not going to lie—it feels incredible." The brothers circled each other again, their movements a dance of power and agility. Vik's legs, each the size of a small person, propelled him forward with surprising speed. His back, a broad canvas of rippling muscles, flexed with each twist and turn. As the match continued, Vik's dominance was undeniable. He moved with a confidence that came from knowing he was the strongest, the biggest, the alpha. And yet, there was a grace to his actions, a reminder that he was still their brother, still Vik. When Vikram finally pinned Harminder to the ground, it was with a gentleness that belied his gargantuan form. Lying on the grass, Harminder conceded, "Alright, you win, Vik. This new size of yours... it's something else." Vikram helped his brother to his feet, his laughter booming across the yard. "I think I could get used to this.” The tournament ended with laughter and backslaps, the brothers acknowledging Vik's superiority in good spirits.As they caught their breath, Vikram bounced his pecs, the movement sending ripples through his muscles. "Still think size isn't everything?" Vik's thoughts were on the future, on the possibilities that lay ahead for a man of his size and strength. Gurinder chided Vik, “Just don’t become a bully.” Vikram shook his head. "Never. I'm still your little brother, just a little... bigger." After their match with Vik, Gurinder and Harminder stood up, shaking off the defeat with good humor. They locked eyes, the unspoken challenge hanging between them. It was Gurinder who broke the silence, his voice laced with competitive spirit. "Alright, Harminder, you and I haven't had a proper go in a while. Let's see if you've still got it." Harminder smirked, rolling his shoulders in anticipation. "You're on, Gurinder. But don't expect any brotherly mercy from me." The two brothers circled each other on the soft grass, their athletic forms a testament to years of friendly rivalry. They lunged and parried, each seeking an advantage, their movements a dance of strength and agility. As the match progressed, it was clear that both brothers were evenly matched, each countering the other's moves with practiced ease. But it was Gurinder who found the opening, a momentary lapse in Harminder's defense, and with a swift maneuver, he took his brother down to the ground. Harminder grunted as he hit the grass, a mix of surprise and respect flashing in his eyes. "Well played, Gurinder. I guess you've still got the edge," he conceded, offering his hand for Gurinder to help him up. Gurinder pulled Harminder to his feet, a triumphant grin on his face. "It's all in the technique. But you put up a good fight, brother." The brothers shared a laugh, their bond unshaken by the outcome of the match. As they walked back to the house, their conversation turned to plans for the next family tournament, where they would once again test their mettle against each other—and against the giant that was their younger brother, Vik. Vikram's new size and strength were overwhelming, his pecs bouncing in a triumphant dance as Harminder looked on, defeated but impressed. CHAPTER FIVE: BED AND BREAKFAST The night had fallen, and the house was quiet as Vikram, now a giant among men, prepared for bed. He entered his bedroom—a room that once felt spacious, now seemed like a dollhouse around his massive frame. "Alright, Vik, let's see if we can do this without breaking anything," he muttered to himself, a habit he found comforting in the face of his new reality. He raised his arms for a goodnight stretch, misjudging his own strength and size. His fist connected with the ceiling with a thud, leaving a hole where smooth plaster once was. "Oops," he chuckled, "Guess I don't know my own strength yet." Carefully, he maneuvered towards the bed, the furniture creaking a warning. He sat down gingerly, only to hear the wooden frame groan under his weight before it surrendered with a crack, the mattress hitting the floor. "Well, that's not going to work," he said with a resigned laugh, looking at the bed now resembling a nest rather than a place to sleep. Lying down proved to be another challenge; his feet dangled off the edge, scraping against the wall. "I'm going to need a bigger bed," he mused aloud, the absurdity of the situation not lost on him. Despite the discomfort, exhaustion took over, and Vikram drifted off to sleep. His snores were deep and guttural, vibrating through the house, a testament to his new, gargantuan size. The walls trembled with each breath, a lullaby of sorts that echoed his earlier thoughts. Gurinder, from upstairs, heard the sounds. "With great size comes great... snoring" he mused. Morning light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on Vikram's face as he stirred from his slumber. For a moment, he lay still, the events of the previous day feeling like fragments of a dream. But as he attempted to stretch, his hand met the resistance of the ceiling—reality came crashing down. The transformation was real; he was a giant. With a groan that sounded more like a growl, Vikram rolled out of bed—or what was left of it—and stumbled towards the kitchen. His movements were awkward, uncoordinated, like a puppeteer learning the strings. "Time for breakfast," he mumbled to himself, his voice a deep rumble. The kitchen, once a place of culinary experiments, now felt like a dollhouse. Vikram ducked under the doorway, his tighty-whiteys hugging his massive frame, leaving little to the imagination. The sight was enough to stop his brothers, Gurinder and Harminder, in their tracks. "Vik, for heaven's sake, put on some clothes!" Gurinder chided, trying to avert his eyes. Harminder just whistled. "You're going to need a custom tailor, brother. At least make sure they’re clean before leaving your room." Vik's looked down as his enormous manhood and testicles bulged, the fabric of his underwear stretched to its limit. A huge spot of precum made his underwear almost see-through at his massive cock head. The scent of musk and sweat emanating from Vikram's groin was strong, an earthy and slightly sweet smell that only added to the intensity of his current state. It was unlike anything Gurinder or Harminder had ever seen, a testament to his new size. Ignoring their comments, Vikram set about making breakfast. He cracked eggs with one hand, each one looking like a quail's egg between his fingers. The frying pan was comically small, but he managed, flipping pancakes that were more like silver dollars on the griddle. He raided the fridge, devouring everything in sight—bacon, bread, leftovers from last night's dinner. The protein powder was next; he tipped the container, and the contents vanished like dust in a vacuum. As he ate, his appetite seemed insatiable, each bite only fueling his hunger further. He finished with a belch that rattled the windows, a satisfied grin on his face. Gurinder, ever the analyst, had been calculating on his phone. "Vik, at this rate, you're going to eat us out of house and home. Literally." Vikram's smile faltered. "I... I didn't think about that. I'll cover the costs, don't worry." Harminder raised an eyebrow. "With what? You're going to need a raise just to pay for breakfast." The reality of his financial situation dawned on Vikram. His associate salary, once a source of pride, now seemed meager. "I'll figure something out," he said, determination setting in. "Maybe I'll start a side hustle. Giant for hire, anyone?" The brothers laughed, the tension easing. They would support Vikram, no matter his size or appetite. But as Vikram looked around at the empty shelves and the demolished pantry, he knew that being a giant in the modern world was going to require more than just a big personality.
    1 point
  21. CHAPTER SIX: GROCERIES & GAINS The grocery store's automatic doors slid open, but not quickly enough for Vikram's massive frame. He ducked and sidestepped, narrowly avoiding a collision that would have sent glass and metal flying. Inside, the fluorescent lights illuminated his path as he towered over the aisles, his broad shoulders nearly brushing both sides. "Okay, Vik, just a quick in and out," he murmured to himself, reaching for a shopping cart. To him, it felt like a child's toy, the handle sitting comfortably in one hand. He began to fill it, each item disappearing into the cart as if into a magician's hat. "Vikram? Is that you?" The familiar voice belonged to Evan, the barista with a knack for cooking. He craned his neck upwards, his eyes wide with amazement. "Hey, Evan! Yeah, it's me," Vikram boomed, a smile spreading across his face. "Just picking up a few things." Evan chuckled, "A few things? Looks like you're stocking up for an army!" Vikram's laugh rumbled through the store. "Feels like it. I'm eating like a horse these days." As they walked the aisles, Evan suggested recipes and ingredients, his culinary expertise guiding Vikram's choices. "You'll want to get plenty of protein, and don't skimp on the veggies," Evan advised, pointing to the leafy greens. At the checkout, the total climbed higher and higher, the numbers on the register a stark reminder of Vikram's new needs. His wallet felt significantly lighter as he handed over his card, the amount making him wince. "Guess I'll be living on more than just a budget," he said, half-joking. Evan, ever the friend, offered a solution. "I've got my pick-up outside. Let's get you and your mountain of groceries home." The ride back was a spectacle, with Vikram seated in the back of the truck, his head visible over the cab. Children waved, and drivers honed their horns, while Evan navigated the streets with a grin. As they pulled up to the house, Vikram thanked Evan, his voice carrying easily from the truck bed. "Couldn't have done it without you, man." Evan waved off the thanks. "Anytime, Vik. Just maybe order online next time, huh?" With a wave, Evan drove off, leaving Vikram to ponder the logistics of his new life. One thing was certain: grocery shopping would never be the same again. -- The gym, Iron Palisade, housed in an old aircraft hangar, was one of the few places where Vikram could stand tall without fear of hitting his head. The vast space, with its high ceilings and wide-open area, was a perfect fit for his giant stature. "Man, this place is perfect for you," Marcus remarked, his eyes scanning the expanse of the hangar-turned-gym. Vikram grinned, "Yeah, it's not every day you find a gym where you can actually fit in." They approached the leg press machine, and Vikram gave it a skeptical look. The seat and weight sled seemed almost comically small compared to his massive frame. With some maneuvering, he managed to position himself, but his knees were up to his ears as he pressed the weights. Marcus couldn't help but comment, "You make that machine look like it's made for ants!" Vikram laughed, the sound echoing off the metal walls. "Feels like it too. But hey, a workout's a workout." As they moved through their leg day routine, Marcus was visibly impressed by Vikram's sheer size and strength. "Dude, your quads are the size of my chest," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Vikram's legs powered through squats, lunges, and deadlifts, each muscle standing out in sharp relief. His calves were like sculpted boulders, and with every flex, the striations were more pronounced. After the intense workout, both men were drenched in sweat, their breaths heavy with exertion. "Good session, man," Vikram panted, giving Marcus a gentle slap on the back that nearly sent him stumbling. In the locker room, the contrast between them was even more evident. Vikram's tighty-whiteys clung to his hips, outlining the muscles that rippled with every movement. Marcus, though fit and muscular himself, looked almost ordinary next to the giant. "Next time, we're doing arms. I want to see if you can make the dumbbells look like toothpicks too," Marcus joked, wiping the sweat from his brow. Vikram chuckled, "Challenge accepted. But for now, let's just try to survive the rest of the day." The gym's showers were a sanctuary for Vikram, the one place where he could truly revel in the sensation of water cascading over his colossal form. The spacious shower room accommodated his size, allowing him to stretch out his arms and let the warm streams soothe his muscles. "Ah, this is the life," Vikram sighed contentedly, tilting his head back into the spray. Marcus, standing a few shower heads over, called out, "Enjoying the little things, huh?" "You have no idea," Vikram replied, his voice echoing off the tiled walls. "It's the first shower I've had since... well, you know, where I don't have to bend double." Marcus chuckled, "I can only imagine." After a few moments of blissful silence, Vikram stepped out of the shower, droplets of water glistening on his skin like diamonds. He caught Marcus's eye and struck a classic bodybuilder's pose, his muscles rippling under the lighting. "Check this out, Marcus. What do you think?" Vikram boomed, transitioning from one pose to another, showcasing his physique. Marcus whistled appreciatively. "Man, you're like a statue come to life. Incredible!" Vikram laughed, flexing his biceps and then spreading his lats. "Feels good to move without knocking something over." Drying off was another story. The towels, standard-sized for anyone else, were woefully inadequate for Vikram's massive body. He dabbed at himself with what might as well have been a handkerchief, the fabric comically small against his skin. "Need a little help there?" Marcus joked, tossing him another towel. Vikram caught it and smiled. "Might need a few more of these." Together, they managed to get Vikram reasonably dry, though it took nearly the entire stack of towels. "Next time, I'm bringing a beach towel. Or maybe a bedsheet," Vikram said, chuckling at the thought. As they left the locker room, the camaraderie between them was palpable—a bond forged through shared experiences and the unique challenges of Vikram's new life.
    1 point
  22. 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.
    1 point
  23. 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
    1 point
  24. “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.
    1 point
  25. Chapter Two Maybe it was his lack of sleep or the deep depression over losing Ben but Sam hadn’t been able to talk himself out of going and arrived at Brutus early the next morning. He stepped inside and saw the gym clearly for the first time. It was old but large and very quiet. Sam looked around and didn’t see anyone else there. He arrived wearing a pair of baggy sweats and started to wander around, testing the machines he was familiar with. He was lying on a bench with a pair of 10lb dumbbells in his hands when a figure blocked the lights from above. He dropped the weights and sat up. “What are doing there kid?” A shockingly deep voice said. Sam looked up and saw the largest person he had ever imagined. He was so large and imposing, Sam practically scrambled over the bench to get away. “Woah! Relax.” The voice said. Sam managed to get to his feet. While he was the same height, the similarities ended there. The man, older than Sam’s 18 years, was also wearing loose fitting sweats. Sam’s hung off his rail-thin body while this guy’s could not hide his staggering mass. He had his hood pulled up but Sam could see two massive traps rising ominously on either side. Two beachball-sized shoulders erupted with deep striations showing clearly through the fabric. The man’s chest didn’t look remotely normal but rather like he had stuffed oversized pillows into his sweater. Sam couldn’t see his waist through the folds of his clothes but the astounding width of his quads could not be hidden, each ballooned from either side of his body, given him the appearance of one massive wall of beef. “I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-o-rry.” Sam stammered and turned to leave. “Wait, where are you going?” “I shouldn’t be here. This was stupid.” Sam mumbled as he felt a lump in his throat and tears filled his eyes. He took a few steps before the man’s hand grabbed his arm stopping him dead in his tracks. Sam turned and looked at the ground. “What’s your name?” The huge man asked. “Sam.” “Sam, I’m Max.” Sam quickly met his eyes before looking away. “This your first day here?” Sam only nodded. “Good, that’s a win in itself. Now, what makes you think you shouldn’t be here?” “Look at me! I don’t know what I’m doing.” “Just like the rest of us on our first day.” Sam felt his anxiety decrease a little. Max released his arm, picked up the tiny weights Sam was used and stood at end of the bench. “Come on. Lay back down.” Sam froze. “The only way you’re gong to learn is by doing it. Come on.” Max said and cracked a small smile. Sam positioned himself and started to press the wights. Max offered him tips on his form and after three sets of twelve reps, Max took the weights from Sam and directed him to the pec deck. After adjusting the seat, Sam sat down with Max standing directly in front of him. Max mimicked the movement for Sam but all he could see was the large man’s massive chest inflate with impossible size just by moving his arms. Sam’s mouth went dry but he managed 10 reps. “Good. Two more sets.” Sam stopped after 10 more reps and forced himself to look at Max. He noticed he wasn’t as old as he initially thought, placing him in his late twenties. He had pulled his hood down and Sam noticed his short cropped light brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. “Why are you helping me?” “Because I was you kid.” Max said seeing the look of disbelief on Sam’s face. “I’m serious. I walking into my first gym weighing 160lbs soaking wet at 5’7”. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing but I stuck with it and I’ve gotten a little bigger over the years.” “A little?” Sam asked. “Ok, a lot bigger. Now come on, one more set.” As Max took Sam through an entire chest workout, his anxiety disappeared and by the end, while tired, he felt like a whole new person. “Thanks Max. I’m sorry I took up so much of your time.” Sam said, noticing the time. “It’s ok. I got plenty of time to get my workout in. When will you be here tomorrow?” “Tomorrow?” Sam asked. “Yeah. It’s back day.” Sam looked confused. “That is of course if you’re serious and want my help.” “Y-Y-Yeah! Thank you! SO MUCH!” Sam stammered with pure glee. Max smiled back. “Ok, I have one condition through.” “What?” “You stick with it.” “I will! I promise. Thanks Max. See you tomorrow.” Sam said as he turned towards the door, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Sam arrived early the next day. He had never been so sore but he did nothing else but think about Max’s hulking body since the day before and wasn’t about to miss seeing him again. “Sam! You came back!” Max said as he came out of the locker room. He was wearing similar clothes but Sam could’ve sworn they looked tighter than the day before. He also noticed the slow pace Max moved towards him, his legs stretching the loose fabric with each stride. “Hey.” Was all Sam could muster, still not convinced Max was serious about his offer to help him. “Back day right?” Max asked. “Let’s do it, follow me.” This went on for the rest of week. Max was always there, always huge and always ready to help Sam workout. Each day they trained a different body part. By the end, Sam could barely move. He tried to hide the pain at the gym but the moment he opened his apartment door, he collapsed, barely able to move. Aside from the muscle pain, Sam’s appetite was off the charts, something Max had warned him about. Unable to get to the store himself, Sam had a huge load of groceries delivered to his apartment. At work, his boss cursed him out for being slower than his usual unimpressive pace. When Sam finished his last set of his last exercise, he plopped himself down on a nearby bench, barely able to stay seated. “Well, that’s it. How do you feel?” Max said. “Tired but great!” Sam said as his eyes instantly started to fill up and tears streamed dow his face. “You ok Sam?” “Yeah. This is stupid. I’m sorry.” Sam said, covering his face out of embarrassment. Max pulled Sam’s hands away with a gentleness that betrayed his massive size. “Tell me.” “I still don’t know why you’re helping me but I can’t thank you enough. I’ve been a fan of bodybuilding and muscle for as long as I can remember but I never had the guts to build any of my own. This week has been incredible. You taking the time to show me what to do means more than you will ever know. I don’t know how I will ever thank you.” Sam gushed through his sobs. Max lifted Sam’s chin so he was forced to look him in the eyes. There was a single tear running down his own cheek. “You can thank me by not giving up until you get as big as your wildest fantasies.” Sam could only stare in utter silence. “That’s what I’m trying to do. When I was your age and size, all I wanted was to become a huge freak of nature. If I had the guts to tell anyone that, I’m sure they would have laughed in my face. But I never did. I just kept working out and getting bigger. I’m still not as big as hope to get but I know one thing, I’m never going to stop. Now; get out of here, get some sleep and EAT.” “Ok Max. Thanks again.” “No worries kid. I’ll see you around.” “You will. I promise.” Sam said, using all his strength to make his way towards the front door. The next few weeks flew by. Sam’s schedule at work prevented him from crossing paths with Max at the gym but he kept going, surprising even himself. He researched diet and completely stoped eating fast food. He was sleeping better and to his surprise, put on 8lbs, bringing his weight up to 160lbs. At work, Sam was a completely different person. He arrived on time and full of energy. His productivity increased dramatically and his boss had even taken notice, regularly commenting on how well he was doing. Sam started to appreciate the physical aspects of the job, purposely lifting heavier items and admiring how much stronger he felt. Barely over a month after joining Brutus, Sam stepped on the scale to see the dial blink 163lbs. “10 pounds in five weeks!” Sam said as he looked at his shirtless reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was still very thin but there was clearly larger, rounder muscles all over his upper body. He couldn’t help but smile as he flexed his small but hard 13” bicep. There were even a few veins creeping to the surface of is pale skin. As he prepared to head to the gym, Sam was finishing a protein shake as he opened the browser on his phone and typed “steroids” into the search bar. As the results populated the screen, he felt his heart start to pound. He clicked the phone off, grabbed his gym bag and headed for the door. Sam walked into the gym, getting a head nod from the guy working the front desk. It was chest day, which had quickly become one of his favourite’s. Needing to piss between sets, Sam walked into the locker room and stopped dead in his tracks. Standing at the far end of the room, for the first time, was a shirtless Max. Sam had fantasied many times about what Max looked like under his billowing clothes but the sight he now witnessed paled in comparison. Max was fumbling with a t-shirt so wasn’t flexed in the slightest but his simple movements caused his inhumanly massive muscles to flex and twitch involuntarily. If his sheer mass wasn’t alarming enough, Max possessed a level of vascularity Sam never fathomed was possible. Aside from his impossible size, Sam immediately noticed how minuscule Max’s waist was. He wondered how he was even able to support so much upper body mass. The column of granite-hard abdominals that rose from his waist was nothing short of spectacular, each muscle was so well-defined they appeared to flex individually. Sam knew Max had a huge chest but the sheer thickness and mass was indescribable. Covered in thick veins, each slab hung well over a foot from his body, casting a dark shadow over his top two abdominal muscles. Sam was looked at Max from the front but his lats were so staggeringly wide, his arms were pressed well past 45 degrees from his body and those arms were clearly larger than his waist. Uncovered, his shoulders and traps looked like they contained the amount of muscle a man’s entire body should possess. Sam must have gasped because Max suddenly raised his head and looked at Sam. “SAM!” He said. “M-M-M-M-M-“ Was all Sam was able to articulate. Suddenly aware he was shirtless, Max looked slightly embarrassed and fought to get the t-shirt pulled over his body. It was outrageously oversized which allowed Max to easily get it on. Sam hadn’t moved. “Sorry about that. How are you doing?” Sam fumbled to speak but managed to get the word “fine” out. “That’s good. I’m just finishing here and I’m late for an appointment. Good to see you kid.” Max said as he rushed past Sam who needed a few moments alone to gather the strength to continue with his workout. Unfortunately, his encounter with Max left him unable to focus. Every time he blinked he saw Max’s huge body. He also couldn’t shake how uncomfortable Max looked when Sam entered the room. He left very fast, like he wanted to be anywhere but around Sam. It left Sam feeling like he’d done something wrong. By the time Sam returned to his apartment, he had forgotten about Max’s reaction but he hadn’t forgotten about his body. As he waited for his food to heat up in the microwave, Sam filled his online shopping cart with various potent steroids and other supplements. His hand was shaking as he placed the order. By the time he had devoured his second plate of food, Sam had checked the status of his order twice, knowing full well it hadn’t shipped yet. Sam fell asleep that night having cum numerous times to the image of Max’s body. The only difference from what he had actually seen was the fact that face atop the massively huge body wasn’t Max, but his face. A new feeling began to fester in Sam’s stomach, a craving he never felt before, a craving for mass. For the first time in Sam’s life, he actually felt like he could achieve it for himself.
    1 point
  26. 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 >>
    1 point
  27. Hopefully I am posting this right. . . here is part two to my story (link the previous one in case you forgot about it). Sorry it took so long and hope you guys like it! Winter Break, Part 2 I was breathing heavy. I could still feel my dad’s cock inside me, throbbing strong, even after it had just filled me to the brim with hot muscle cum. I stared up at my father, my back pinned to the wall. I had never been more turned on in my life. He was covered in sweat, his massive hairy pecs glistened with the moisture. He just stared down at me, as his cock held me off the floor. His hands were wandering over my newly expanded body. “I can’t believe my cum made my boy grow like that,” he said with a smile. His hands went under my arms and lifted me off his still throbbing cock. I hated the feeling of his dick leaving my hole. I felt so empty. I was addicted to the feeling of him inside me already. It was like my entire being was craving him. As my feet touched the ground, I looked up into his eyes. “I love you Dad.” I couldn't stop myself from saying. “I love you too Son.” he said with a smile as he kissed me hard and deep. Our tongue wrestling as I moaned into his mouth. “Now turn around, look in the mirror and flex for your daddy.” As I turned, I stared in amazement at my new muscle body, and the shreds of my shirt still wrapped around my arms and torso. My dad grab the shirt and ripped it off with ease. I know I grew taller, but seeing my father standing behind me, made me feel small. He was easily a foot taller then me. Clearly the workout of fucking me had helped him grow even larger. I lifted up my arms and flexed my biceps. “Holy fuck!” I muttered. My arms had clearly grown to 19 if not 20 inches. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I lowered my arms and began bouncing my newly massive pecs. I couldn't get over their definition. I reached up and started playing with my nipples. It felt so good to play with them that I let out a slight moan. That’s when I felt my dad push up against my ass. His hands roved over my new bubble ass, his cock leaking all over my crack. He pushed his fat cock into the valley between my muscle cheeks and began to kiss my neck as I continued to stare and flex. His hairy pecs felt so good against my back. “You are so incredibly sexy son.” he whispered into my ear as his tongue traced the out line of my ear. I let out another moan as I began grinding my ass back on him. My arm reached up behind me and grabbed my father’s head. I started playing with his hair as he started grinding a little faster and harder into me. “Daddy, I need you… I know you just came inside me, but I need more,” I panted out, already short of breath. It was like my dad’s mere presence was intoxicating. All I could think about was pleasing him, milking more and more of that muscle cum out of him. My cock was at attention, throbbing harder and thicker than I had ever seen. My other hand reached down and started to stroke it. Its girth was overwhelming. I couldn’t believe it was my cock. My daddy’s hands found their way to my pecs. He was massaging them, pulling on my nips, and twisting them. As his fingers danced across them, I moaned louder and louder, grinding even harder back on his steel rod of a cock. His muscle cock was like a faucet of pre cum. He took one hand off my pecs to stroke the head of his cock, which was mid way up my back. My father wiped up a large amount of his pre and held it in front of my face. I gripped his wrist and started to feverishly suck his pre cum off his fingers. It tasted like heaven and made me moan even more. One hand was feeding me pre as the other played with my nipple. My cock was now the faucet. I barely leaked any pre before my daddy filled me with his cum… now there was a puddle on the gym floor showing how excited I was to please him, to taste his sweat and cum. My dad looked down at it and let out a laugh. “Damn, my baby boy is excited for more of me, let me get a taste of that!” I let out a small squeal as my dad flipped me around and lifted me effortlessly up off the floor again. I didn't realize what he was doing until my head almost hit the ceiling with was 10 feet. He had power cleaned me clear to his shoulders. My back was against the wall, with my legs on his shoulders as my fat cock slid right down his throat. I thought I was moaning loudly before. As my dad’s tongue played with my swollen head, I screamed out in pleasure. That’s when he slid a finger into my cum filled ass. His finger was the size of a normal man’s cock. I was squirming on his shoulders as he found my spot. the pleasure sent shockwaves through my body as he finger fucked my hole. My cock throbbed over and over in his mouth as he sucked on me. It was the best head of my life. I was seeing stars, uncontrollably moaning and screaming, begging for more. My dad slipped another finger inside me, fucking me hard and deep, nailing my spot over and over again. My back arched, eyes rolled back in my head. I was in pure bliss. he grabbed his cock and lubed up his fingers with all that pre cum and slammed back into me. I couldn't hold back anymore. “FUUUUUCKKKKK DADDDDDDYYYYYY! I’M GONNA CUM!!!!” I screamed out. It only made my father suck on my cock harder. I unloaded the biggest load of my life. Not a single drop escaped my dad’s mouth. He was as greedy for my cum as I was for his! That’s when I felt the ceiling get a little closer. FUCK! Can my cum make HIM grow!? I thought in amazement. Before I could even process that thought I was being thrown to the ground. “Fuck boy! All that cum has turn me on so fucking bad!” My dad said with a grunt. He grabbed my head and slammed it into his crotch. My nose was smashed into his gloriously hairy balls. I took a deep whiff of his sweaty manly scent. It was the greatest thing I had ever smelled. I couldn’t get his balls in my mouth fast enough. “Fuck yes boy! Worship your daddy’s balls!” my dad moaned. His hand never left my head as he rubbed my head over and over into his sweaty crotch. My tongue worshipped every inch of his balls as I stroked his massive shaft with both hands. I looked up at my glorious muscle daddy. I could barely see his face past the two giant mounds of hairy muscle that were his pecs. He was playing with one nipple as he humped my face. “Fuck boy…. I love the feeling of that tongue on my balls.” He moaned out. “Fuck you make me so god damn horny!” He pulled me off his balls and stared down at me. I watched as a smirk crept across his face. He held my face back, one hand on my chin, the other on my forehead as he spit into my open mouth. It was the hottest thing I had ever done. “You’re mine now boy.” my dad said as he gripped his foot long cock and started smacking my face with it. He smeared pre cum all over my scruff. “Now you're marked.” He smirked again as he slammed his gigantic dick down my throat. I choked, and gagged on its mass but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I ate his cock like I was starving. In fact I was. I needed that massive cock. I wanted that muscle cum. I wanted to taste it. I wanted to please my muscle god. I wanted to grow even bigger, to be just like him. My daddy let out moan after moan, grunting as he fucked my face without mercy. Tears were welling up in my eyes as he pounded my skull. He was raping my mouth. I tried to make him slow down but his hands were like a vice. He was 100% pure primal fucking my face. His cock felt like it was swelling even bigger with each thrust. I didn't know whether to be scared that he was about to crush my skull or so turned on I could cum without touching my cock. It turned out to be the latter. His alpha essence pushed me over the edge. My cock started to explode as he cock filled up my throat. I tried to moan but couldn’t get out much more than a gargle. My father looked down as he felt my hot cum shoot all over his leg. “FUCK BOY! TAKE MY CUMMMMM!” he grunted and slammed his cock deep into my mouth. His cock flooded my throat with hot sweet cum. I managed to swallow the first few shots but the shear volume overwhelmed me. It started leaking out of my mouth and down my chest as he shot stream after stream into me. I hurried to swallow over and over. The sounds that were coming out of my dad as he unloaded where nothing short of animalistic. I felt his cum warm my stomach. I felt the warmth start to spread again. I looked down as my arms and pecs began to swell again. I fell onto my back as the warmth engulfed my body. I moaned out and squirmed on the floor. My dad was still cumming, squirting more and more muscle cum onto me. I rubbed my expanding body, feeling the growth. I rubbed my daddy’s cum into my pecs as I felt them compound under my hand. It was making me so hard. The power, the strength. It was amazing. I looked up at my father, I couldn’t help myself, it was like his cum was viagra on steriods. I started jerking my cock at my daddy’s feet, covered in his cum, muscles growing. He stared down at me. “Fuck boy, you’re growing even more!” he smirked. He started to flex for me. I felt my lats expanding, my shoulders getting broader. “My godly muscle cum is doing wonders for your son. Maybe one day you be this big.” He said as he flexed a most muscular for me. I exploded all over him. I didn't stand a chance seeing that and not cumming. I just laid there at his feet, panting, covered in sweat and my daddy’s cum. I couldn’t believe it. I was hopelessly devoted to this muscle god. I couldn’t get enough. My dad extended a hand and I grabbed it. He lifted me off the floor with ease and pulled me into a hug. He pressed me against his hairy boulders of pecs. “Sorry I got a little rough there. I don’t know what came over me.” He said with a blush. “I loved it daddy,” I beamed with a smile. He kissed me deep, with passion only a father has for a son. He held me. I felt safe and warm in those impossibly strong arms. It was as though his essence engulfed me. I never wanted to leave. I looked over in the mirror. I was amazed at my transformation, but my father was on a completely different level. He was at least 7 feet tall now. His delts and shoulders looked like a literal mountain range. His biceps were the size of my head. “Daddy you’re huge!” I gawked. I stood back and just stared at him. He smiled down at me and raised his massive arms and flexed his mountainous arms. I grabbed his bicep with both hands i couldn't even come close to encircling it all. “Look at how huge your father has become!” he said, as he flexed a most muscular. I swear I saw him grow even more as he flexed those gigantic muscles. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was absolute muscle perfection. “How is this possible dad!? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining,” I said as I admired my own newly enlarged bicep. “Well I found this at one of my work site’s at the end of the summer,” he said as he gripped his ancient looking necklace. I remembered how it felt hot against my skin when he was fucking me. I took it in my hand and rubbed it. It still felt hot to the touch. “Any time I lift when I’m wearing it, it makes me stronger and grow bigger. It never made me grow this much before. But when I saw you looking so sexy in that tight shirt, it’s like I lost all control and the necklace fed off my lust for you. I could feel it feeding off the sexual energy. It was so intense, all i wanted to do was lift, grow and fuck! Just thinking about it again is making me…. “ I looked down as the necklace started to glow, and my dad’s cock harden. I quickly lifted the necklace over his head. The action snapped him back to reality. “Are you ok dad?” “Yes boy, thanks. I needed to take it off, I don’t know how I’m going to explain being this big… but the feeling is so addictive.” I smiled up, “It is an amazing feeling daddy! I don’t know how I’m going to explain this either. I am definitely as big as Mitch now, if not bigger!” My dad’s face instantly changed. “I need to meet this Mitch. Invite him over. I need to show him what real muscle is. He needs to know you're mine now, not his.” he said in a deep growl. “But… Daddy he's straight. Him and I have never done any….” “NOW. Boy. I need to show him what a true muscle God looks like." My father said with such force I knew there’d be no debating with him. He flex his massive frame as he towered over me. I stared up at his muscles as the veins bulged. I had never seen anything like it. It made my knees weak. He truly was bigger than any bodybuilder I had ever seen. He pointed at our pile of shredded clothes. “Get your phone and call him now.” I scrambled to rummage though the clothes as quickly as I could. I was shaking. I didn’t know why but I knew I had to. He wanted it, so I had to make it happen. He put his gigantic arm around me and pulled me into him as I scrolled through my phone to find Mitch's number. My father bent down and started sucking on my neck as his hands found my ass. I was intoxicated by his touch.... I was forgetting what I was doing... All I could think of was his cock inside me again. ''Dial the number," my father whispered into my ear as he lifted me off the ground again. His strength engulfed me. I couldn't believe how easily he picked me up. His muscles were so hard... So strong. The warmth of his body made me want more... No need more. I pushed send as my daddy's cock slid inside me again. "Fuck I love the feeling of my boy's tight warm hole," he whispered as he filled me up. His presence inside me was overwhelming, it pushed me to the edge of bliss but Mitch's voice snapped me back to reality. ''Hey buddy!"
    1 point
  28. POP, Part 5 “In the red corner,” bellowed the MMA announcer, “standing at 6’6” and breaking the scale at 450 lbs of massive cop-muscle. It’s Steve ‘The Mount Rushmore of Meat’ Carnitas!” Steve shadowboxed in his corner, pumping his massive fists like pistons, and stomping his feet like a bull. The ring shook under the weight of his huge muscles. “Fuck yeah, bring it on!” He screamed across the ring at his opponent. “And in the blue corner, standing at 5’8” and weighing in at 150 lbs of Italian steel, it’s Vinny ‘The Shiv’ Crisco.” The lean, mean mob enforcer sneered across the ring at the cop and flexed his ultra-hard biceps, the muscles mounding upwards into cascading piles of ropey knots. “That’s right, bitch, get a load of me.” Vinny twisted his wrists and a second peak bulged up from the muscle. Then he flexed harder and a freaky third peak popped out the top like a cockhead out of a foreskin. “Come suck on this, faggot, since you like muscles so much.” Steve grit his teeth as he watched Vinny lower those brutally strong arms and throw an uncanny blur of punches in the air. He steeled his nerves; he wouldn’t get beaten by this evil gnome again. The combatants met in the center of the ring and the ref was about to give the starting signal when he stopped and shook his head. “This fight cannot continue, both fighters must be in the same weight class.” “Nothing’s going to stop me from smashing this punk,” Steve growled. “It’s payback time.” “Don’t strain your pea-sized brain,” said Crisco. “I’m mob, we know how to fix the odds.” The slick mafioso slid under Carnitas’ legs and tore his boxing shorts right off his waist as he ducked through the slim space between the detective’s massive quads. “What the fuck are you doing?” “I’m doing what a man does, faggot. I’m taking what I want with my own hands.” Bracing his left hand on Carnitas’s back, Vinny swung a pulverizing uppercut punch straight between Steve’s glutes, burying his forearm up to the elbow. “Ahhhgh!” Steve screamed, “My ass! My ass! He’s busted my hole!!” “I’ll allow it,” said the ref. “No one to save you now, bitch,” Vinny sneered. Steve whimpered as he felt the muscles of his prized physique wobble. A sound like air leaking out of a balloon filled his ears and he panicked as his muscles begin to shrink. “No…” “Aw yeah,” Vinny growled as he absorbed the muscle-cop’s mass like his arm was a hose draining a vat. His lean hairy pecs swelled into slabs, then rounded boulders. His strong legs thickened from a sprinter’s lean muscle to the size of a horse’s haunches. He admired his free arm as meat spooled around it, forming huge triceps and biceps and delts Steve sobbed, horrified as his ass tore under pressure from Vinny’s forearm, bloated up with stolen muscle. Each of the cop’s muscles was softening, shrinking and weakening as the tough mafioso claimed his gym-honed strength for himself. Finally the ref said: “That’s enough, back to your corners. “Heh heh,” Vinny chuckled as he lifted Steve into the air, pitching him into his corner with a wave of his arm. The detective tumbled into a pathetic heap, and painfully got to his feet as blood dripped from his ravaged anus. Steve turned around slowly, his ass on fire, his heart racing as he took in the knee-weakening sight of his transformed nemesis. “Each fighter is now 300 lbs,” called the ref. “Fight’s on!” But to call the match even was a joke. Carnitas stood, 300 lbs of flabby flesh in loose-hanging skin, literally pissing himself as Vinny Crisco streaked across the ring, wearing the 300 lbs of stolen muscles on his 5’8” frame like a Ferrari crossed with a Sherman tank. “Take your best shot, pig.” Crisco raised his hands and placed them behind his head in the classic pose of surrender, but it was Carnitas who wanted to give up. Veins and striations streaked across his arms and pecs as their mass challenged the laws of physics. His long glossy black hair fell onto traps thicker than a Brahma bull. His abs could pave a whole Italian village in cobblestones. In desperation, he hooked punches left and right into that body and screamed as his fists shattered into bloody stumps. The evil hit man just chuckled. “My turn. Lights out, motherfucker.” Vinny’s nuclear punch broke the speed of sound as it rocketed the broken cop out of the ring in a linear trajectory to the back wall of the arena, high above the cheap seats. Blinded by the collapse of his face into his skull, Steve’s only sensation was his loose skin flapping like a sail in a windstorm in the two seconds before his body splattered against the concrete wall. ... “Huhhhhhnnnnnn!” Steve gasped as he woke suddenly from the nightmare, heart racing. He flopped out of his bed in a panic, his sweaty body tangled in his bedsheets. He tried to calm his breathing. “You’re okay, he can’t hurt you, he’s dead. It was just a nightmare." With a groan, he got to his feet. As the bedclothes slipped from his body, he caught a glimpse of himself in his bedroom mirror. Yeah, a nightmare I’m still living. *** “Let me guess, low blood sugar?” It’d been seven days since Detective Steve Carnitas had left his apartment. He knew that Flint would soon replace him on the case if he didn’t get back to work, but that seemed impossible. There was only one week left of the Camp Steamroller retreat, and Shaw was losing his mind with Steve ignoring his texts. Carnitas had made a desperate call. “Thanks for coming, doc,” he croaked. Dr Harry Stain walked in with his crime scene bag. He cast his eyes over Steve’s body, from toe to top. “I had my line all ready: ‘You do know my patients are usually dead, Steve.’ But seeing as how you look half-way there I guess I’ll do what I can.” “So if I’m your patient now, you gotta keep what I tell you confidential, right?” Stain snorted. “I’m going to regret taking this phone call, aren’t I?” *** “So let me get this straight. You were coming home late after the motel takedown when someone slugged you in the back of the head with a fire extinguisher, and then anally raped you with said fire extinguisher. Now you can’t hold your shit together, literally. You’ve stopped eating solid food, since you can’t shit, and have lost a staggering 150 lbs in one week, a third of your body weight. That about it?” Steve nodded, holding his breath. “This have anything to do with the pop case?” “No!” Steve interjected, much too quickly. Stain’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms as he stood in the bathroom door. Carnitas was sitting on the can. Even the chicken broth he was surviving on produced something, and it was either this or have another accident right in front of the pathologist. “You’ve got facial injuries, you must have seen your assailant.” “I didn’t, those are from the motel job.” “Steve, I read the electronic report you filed. You got hit in the nose and the right eye. Where did the broken teeth, torn lip and foot-shaped bruise on your forehead come from?” Steve had worried about this; Stain was too shrewd. “Look Dr Snoop, I don’t need a detective. My ass is wrecked. I need a physician.” “I just told you that I’m obliged to keep this confidential. Why are you lying to me?” Because, thought Steve, I know that confidentiality doesn’t extend to murder. And there was no way he was going to get Jonah Brick thrown in jail over a shitstain like Vinny Crisco. He recalled Brick’s words: Remember one thing. This was not your fault. “Bullshit,” Steve said out loud, his eyes welling up. “No. No, no.” Stain held his hands and backed away. “I don’t do tears.” Carnitas wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve. “You call that a fucking bedside manner?” “My bedside is a mortuary table.” “Ugh. You are such a bastard.” “Look, Steve. If you’re incontinent, that means the inner sphincter is compromised. You need a rectal surgeon. That means a hospital.” “No. No hospitals.” Stain put on his coat. “Well good luck with that, then. Next time you think to call me to waste my time, don’t.” And he was out the door. “Asshole!” Steve yelled, punching the tiled wall. He shook out his hand. A week ago, he would have punched a hole into the other room. “Weakling. Stupid, ugly, shrunken weakling.” His phone pinged. He looked at the screen. What the hell? He opened the Facebook app. New message request from Garrett Shaw: You’re making me resort to Facebook? Just for that I’m going to suplex your hypothyroid ass until your body crumbles in my hands like grandma’s biscuits. Call me. Steve’s stomach was stabbed with a hunger pang. Did he have to refer to food, goddamnit. Steve was about to put the phone down when he saw an ad pop up on his feed: ASSHOLE WRECKED? YOU NEED A RECTAL SURGEON. NO HOSPITALS, NO QUESTIONS ASKED. DR. DARIUS ASFARGHI. NATUROPATHIC SURGEON. 1-800-DRR-ASSS. Steven blinked in disbelief. “The goddamned Zuckerburg surveillance state comes through.” He shook his head in amazement and thumbed up the call. *** “Just so you know, he’s a bit on the rough side,” said the no-nonsense dyke nurse, Sharon, as she finished counting out the cash fee, six thousand dollars in small bills. “But his patients are mostly bottoms, so they like that.” Carnitas lay naked on the surgery table with his legs up in stirrups. “What makes you think I’m a bottom?” She raised a pierced eyebrow. “Didn’t you say this happened while you were shoving a fire extinguisher up your ass?” “Oh, right.” “If that was a lie, I really don’t want to hear the real story.” She turned to leave. “Wait, aren't you staying to assist?” “Oh he won’t need any help. Plus, I can’t stand the smoke. Allergies.” “Huh? Wait, one more question. What’s a naturopathic surgeon?” “You’ll see, Pinocchio.” Steve reflected on how bad a liar he’d been this past week. He needed to eat again, not only to gain back the mass, but for his brain. How was he going to manage an undercover job, let alone keep his story straight if he was questioned in Crisco’s disappearance, if he couldn’t even fool a nurse at a dead-end, probably illegal clinic. His reverie was interrupted by a bang as Dr. Asfarghi kicked open the swinging doors and entered, carrying a surgical tray, and smoking a fat cigar. He dropped the tray on a stand near the end of the table and then stood at Carnitas’ feet. He was 6’5”, 320 lbs of utterly masculine Persian-American muscle-stud. “What have we got here?” “Well, it’s a bit of a long story, Dr. Asferg… OW!” The doctor slapped the inside of his knees to open his legs wider, with a hairy hand the size of a textbook. “Just call me Dr. Ass. You think I want the name of my line mangled by your pissant diction? It was a rhetorical question. It’s always the same story with you faggots.” “You can’t talk to me like that… OHHH!” Steve moaned and arched his back like a whore. His dick, plump from the moment Asfarghi walked in the room, shot instantly rigid as the doctor shoved four thick hairy fingers into his broken hole. “Yes, same story.” He pushed deeper and Steve gasped, nearly blasting a week’s load of cum into his own face. “Both sphincters. Bite off more than you could chew?” Change the subject, Steve. He pointed to the janitor’s sink on the left side of the room. “Hey you didn’t… What do you call it, scrub?” “It’s ass, idiot. I don’t scrub before these cases, I scrub after. Any more stupid questions?” “... No.” Dr Asfarghi stuck his thumb in to join the fingers in a fist. “No, what?” “OHH… No… sir…?” “Now you’re getting it.” He withdrew his hand and Steve’s face fell as he experienced an emptiness that was physical and emotional. The surgeon’s lip curled into a smirk. “Don’t cry, boy. When I’m done with you, you’ll be nice and tight for Daddy. But no more faggy writhing, this isn’t pole-dance class.” Carnitas winced as the doctor slapped a heavy glass ashtray on his abs, and then slapped his phone next to it. He tapped off the ash at the end of his cigar and then put on an earpiece. “I thought you couldn’t smoke in a hospital.” “You blind as well as dumb? This look like a hospital to you?” He tapped his earpiece as he sat on the stool. “Put me through to my trainer, Sharon.” The surgeon pulled a head lamp on an elastic band onto his forehead. “What the hell?” Steve objected. “You can’t take a personal call in the middle of—” “Shut it, nancy. Men are talking. Yo, Stark!” Steve’s ears pricked up. Yeah, shut it, nancy, he told himself. “Tell me more about this investment opportunity,” said the surgeon, his head dipping below Steve’s line of sight. He paused to spit a wet glob on Carnitas’ hole. “This Steamroller thing. You really think it’s got potential?” He spat again and massaged Steve’s anus with his big thumb. His other hand reached over and knocked more ash off the cigar. “I’m not interested in going all in on a fad. Nobody remembers the Thigh-Master.” Steve couldn’t hear the dialogue of the response, but the tinny earpiece speaker couldn’t obscure the power of the voice on the other side. The low-frequency vibes caressed Steve’s sensitive inner thigh til he shivered, and his cock rose slowly to full-mast. “So your father has this cutting edge technique, but sounds like he’s got no business sense. Forest retreats, meditation, drumming? Yeah, no.” More spit, more massaging, Steve stifled an aroused moan. “So you need an angel investor to come up with a marketing plan, a full scale assault on the commercial gym sector. Make Gold’s Gym your bitch. Now that’s something I can get behind.” Steve was so close to cumming he could barely keep up with his serendipitous surveillance. He forced himself to listen. “So what kind of return on investment are we talking about?” He whistled slowly. “No kidding, huh. Stark, if this works out, I will gladly suck your fucking dick in thanks.” That thick manly hand appeared again to dash more char into the ashtray. “HUH-HUH-HUH.” Steve froze at the sound from the earpiece. The exact cadence of the perp’s evil chuckle. Unmistakeable. “Ohhhhhh shiiiiit,” his voice climbed in pitch. He tried to slam the door on the sudden cumshot with a hard Kegel squeeze but half of it still got through, dripping down like white wax from the tip of his adamant hard-on. Asfarghi stood, and raised a thick dark eyebrow at the splooge. “Gotta go, Stark, duty calls.” He tapped his earpiece. “Damn, faggot, pace yourself.” He tapped a last bit of ash into the tray and then removed it and the phone to the stand. Then Dr. Darius Asfarghi unknotted the ties at the waist of his scrubs and pulled them down, and Steve whimpered as he took in the most stunning, beautiful cock he’d ever seen. It was perfectly shaped, thick and veiny even flaccid, with a head the color and shape of a succulent plum. It and his egg shaped balls were framed by a dense hairy bush, black as the night sky. The surgeon nodded knowingly at Steve’s speechless reaction. “Yeah.” He hefted the weight of the breathtaking member in his hand. “Can you imagine, if my namesake ancestor King Darius the Third had had a cock like this? That faggot Alexander the so-called Great would have turned his ass up in surrender, just like you. Ah, well, what might have been.” The doctor closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and discharged a flood of golden piss onto, and into, Carnitas’ exposed hole. “What the fuck?” Steve bellowed hoarsely. The powerful piss-stream shot up into his gape, and Steve’s humiliation turned to astonished arousal as the blissful warmth of it spread up his abdomen. A tranquil smile came over his face, his first in a week. The surgeon smirked again. “Objection withdrawn?” “I’ll take some to go,” Steve whispered. Asfarghi tucked his regal cock back in his scrubs, and dumped the cigar ashes in Steve piss-soaked hole. “Okay. We’ll let the antiseptics cook while I work on your anesthesia." He stared at Steve’s confused face. “That okay by you?” “Fine, fine,” Steve replied meekly. The surgeon crossed his arms in front of him and peeled off his green scrub top with a smooth upward motion. “Wow!” Steve blurted. Asfarghi’s upper body was bursting with ultra-jacked, densely furry man-muscle. “Yeah I get that a lot. Pick your poison. Arms?…” He raised his arms in a victory pose, exploding his thick hairy forearms with a twist of his wrists, his virile biceps and triceps swelling in perfect tandem over deep bushy pits. “Oh…” Steve moaned, his cock rising once again. “Or abs?…” The doctor slid his hands down his torso to his hips, crunching his abs into a bas-relief sculpture, highlighted by the inky-dark hair in the inch deep crevices. “Ohhhhh…” Steve humped the air, imagining what it would be like to frot that manly masterpiece. “Or pecs?…” “Ohhhh pecs, yes! Pecs!” Steve babbled, insanely aroused. “Huge mounds… so hairy… so hard… smother me… ohhhh.” “Do NOT cum, boy. Pecs it is.” The doctor stepped to the side and pulled a jump rope from under the table. “Watch closely, boy. And do not cum.” The doctor started jumping rope. His prodigious, meaty flexed pecs bounced hypnotically, as powerful bands of muscle tensed from his shoulders to his sternum. “You watching, boy? … Watch Daddy’s hairy chest… Yeah, boy, so powerful… so manly…” “So powerful… so manly…” Steve droned. “Watch those hairy muscle-pecs bounce, boy. You see them bounce. Follow the bounce with your eyes.” “They’re bouncing… they’re bouncing…” “Up and down, up and down, follow the bouncing muscle.” “Muscle bouncing, so hot, you’re so hot, Daddy… so… hot…” “Now look closer, boy, zoom in on Daddy’s bouncing pecs. They’re all around you now. You feel safe with Daddy’s muscle all around you.” “”I… feel safe…” “Daddy will protect you… Daddy would never hurt you…” “Never… hurt… me…” “As long as you see Daddy, you’ll never feel pain… Because Daddy would never hurt you…” “Never… feel… pain… Daddy… never… hurt… me…” “Now you’re going to close your eyes, but you’re still going to see Daddy’s hairy pecs, bouncing just for you, boy.” Steve closed his eyes. “Just… for… me…” Dr Asfarghi stopped skipping, his heart pounding from the cardio, and approached the head of the table. “Now a little aromatherapy and we’re good to go.” He used one finger to scrape thick nectar-like sweat from the muscled wall of his hairy pec. He applied it to Steve’s upper lip as his eyelids fluttered. The surgeon crossed back to his stool and unwrapped the surgical tray. Grasping the needle driver in his right hand, he spread Steve’s damaged hole open with his left. “Here we go. One stitch for good boys…” he said, drawing out the thread from the inner sphincter, before plunging in again. “And one for Daddy.” Tying a knot, he cut the thread and moved to the outer sphincter. “And once again, one stitch for good boys… and one for Daddy.” “One for Daddy?” Steve droned. “Daddy likes an extra stitch. You want to be tight for Daddy, don’t you boy?” “Am I, tight for Daddy?” “Let’s find out.” Dropping the needle driver, Asfarghi lowered his scrubs again. This time his stupendous cock was as hard as surgical steel. He crawled up on top of Steve, enveloping his hypnotized patient in his sweaty, hairy muscles. His strong heartbeat thudded against Steve’s chest. Gently, he probed Steve’s hole with his pre-cum-slicked cock. When he was in all the way, he sighed with satisfaction. “Aw, yeah, boy. Feels so good.” “It feels good, Daddy?” “Oh fuck yeah! Daddy does good work.” “Good work… for a good boy.” “Nice and easy, boy, squeeze Daddy’s cock gently.” Steve squeezed his butthole and smiled with pleasure. He was whole again! “You healed me!” he gasped as he opened his eyes. “Fucking right, boy, Daddy’s a fucking stud. Squeeze a little harder, boy. That’s it. Awwhhhhhggrrr!!” Asfarghi thrust only twice and then came hard, unloading a hefty dose of healing spermy stem cells into Steve’s ass. He collapsed on Steves’s chest, rolled onto one side, then got up from the table. “Damn I’m good.” Steve was coming out of the hypno, but grateful tears streamed out of his eyes. “How can I ever thank you?” he breathed. “Just think about this moment for now on. You don’t need anything up there other than cock. And there’s always cock to be had, isn’t there?” The doctor stopped short as he saw Steve’s torn lip. “Hold on, what’s this?” “Oh, well I just thought that would be a different surgeon.” Dr Asfarghi snatched up some debriding scissors from the tray. “No cocksucking patient of mine is going to leave my care without lips suitable for cocksucking. But I’m going to have to put you right out for this.” He raised his enourmous muscular arm and dropped his sweaty, densely hairy armpit over Steve’s face. “Breath deep, faggot. Count backwards from ten.” “10…9…” Steve’s lungs filled with dreamy man-musk and his brain was doused in stupefying pheromones, erasing all memory of Vinny Crisco, or any other man for that matter, who wasn’t descended from Persian kings. His cock shot another creamy load as he reached number 7. “Nighty-night, boy. You’ll be handsome as ever when you wake up.” *** “Where’d Dr. Ass go?” Steve said as he lurched out of the surgery room. Sharon was sitting at her desk. “Something about an investment opportunity? Had to go see his banker.” Steve’s heart fluttered like a school girl’s. “Did he happen to say anything about me being handsome? I wasn’t sure about what I heard in there.” She looked up from her magazine. “Damn, he did your lip for free? And put veneers on your teeth? Yes my friend, he definitely wants to fuck you again.” Carnitas floated out the door like he was pumped full of helium. He flagged down a cab as his stomach rumbled. “Bad Brad’s Diner. On the double. Police emergency.” He texted Garrett Shaw. Meet you at Camp Steamroller, tomorrow morning. Let the elder Stark know I’m a DBag desperate to see the light. To be continued [And sorry for those anxiously awaiting Camp Steamroller... next chapter, I promise!]
    1 point
  29. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 1: Move-in day your freshman year of college is nerve-wracking for everyone. But for me, it was doubly so. Like most other freshmen at my midwestern university, I was moving into a dorm on campus. My new roommate had been assigned randomly via a lottery. All I knew was his name, email, plus what little I could glean from social media. Not much. Frank Ryan, from Dallas, Texas. His only profile photo (if it was even his) was a thumbnail image of a high school football player mid-play. I couldn't really make out what he looked like. For 18-year-old me, a total nerd with an unhealthy obsession with muscle-bound jocks, this was more than enough to make my heart pound and my imagination reel. After Frank was assigned as my roommate in July, I had sent him a long email: How excited I was to be roommates, where I'm from, what I'll be studying, logistical details about my arrival, etc. His reply back was terse. Sounds good man - looking fwd. I move in 1 day b4 u Frank Gulp. --- I was moving all by myself. My parents lived in California and couldn't fly out with me. So when I arrived at the residence hall (buzzing with activity from all the other arrivals), it was just me lugging two enormous suitcases, drenched with sweat from the effort. I got to the door of my room, 201B. I heard the sound of someone's feet inside, plus another buzzing noise I couldn't recognize. There was a faint, manly aroma in the air. Should I knock? I asked myself. I decided I should. I gently tapped the door. No answer. I knocked harder. No answer. Then I pounded the door, but got no response. I lurked outside for a few minutes, unsure what to do. I took a deep breath and decided to go in. The door was unlocked. "HELLO?" I said, to announce myself. "Frank?" I walked in and saw what remains, to this day, the most shocking image of my life. A monstrous, shirtless man was standing with his back to me. His olive-skinned body looked genuinely unreal -- impossible to describe how much muscle hung on his enormous frame. I gauged he was probably 6'4, but his slightly hairy back looked almost as wide as he was tall. Even more startling than his back was his ass, which was so large it literally sucked his XXL gym shorts into its crack, so I could see each globe of his bubble butt in amazing detail. He was standing barefoot on a grey towel, even his calves bulging unnaturally. The muscle freak had noise-canceling headphones on (which explained why he hadn't heard me knocking). I heard a buzzing noise and saw he was holding a hair trimmer. I realized he was standing in front of the mirror, buzzing his chest. As I stepped into the small room, he still hadn't heard me. I smelled the intoxicating scent of sweat, as if there were clouds of testosterone in the air. "HELLO?" I said again, my voice quavering. He didn't turn around, but kept bouncing his head (which looked tiny compared to his body) to the music playing in his headphones. I crept closer, and suddenly caught sight of his eyes in the mirror reflection. Startled, he whipped his massive body around. The room was so small -- and his reaction was so quick -- that his bare, left pec slammed right into my face with tremendous force. I flew backwards three feet and landed on my ass. "Frank?" I said as I stood up. "It's me, James. Your roommate." "James?! FUCK! You scared the shit out of me, dude!" A voice to match his body: Deep. Hyper-masculine. Unreal. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "I knocked a bunch of times, but you had your headphones in." My eyes made their way up to Frank's face. I actively tried to ignore what I saw: a face that looked like a young Henry Cavill, only with a buzz-cut and a thick, dark beard. My new roommate was a Mr. Olympia-sized bodybuilder. That was enough for now. I couldn't deal with the fact that he had a perfect face, too. "No worries, man," he said, smiling, his voice so deep it sent a jolt of pleasure right to my dick. His eyes were gleaming. "Great to meet you. Sorry to bump into you. And for the mess. I was just trimming my chest..." I now noticed the pile of dark body hair on the towel on the floor, and that his HUGE pecs were trimmed on one side, dark and furry on the other. This guy was 18?! "It's fine. I didn't know you'd be so...so..." Now I couldn't take my eyes off his pecs. They were only a foot or so from my face. Eye level. I wanted to touch them more than anything in the world. I started to blush. Veiny. Hairy. Juicy. One of them twitched involuntarily. I thought I might faint. Frank helped me out: "So big? Yeah, I'm starting as a lineman on the football team. Been bulking up this summer -- gained 50 pounds!" Frank flexed right arm. "Yeaaa buddy!" The shockingly defined bicep that formed must have been 24 inches, at least. "Holy shit..." I mumbled. I was starting to feel dizzy. I craned up my neck to look him in the eye, so I wouldn't get a hard-on from staring at his body. But his face was so handsome that I went even more red. "Anyway, I'm glad you're finally here, because I wanted to tell you something. You see how the bunk bed is all fucked up?" Those shoulders. Each one was the size of a basketball. That beard. That voice. It was so ridiculously deep. Barely sounded human. It was like every time he spoke, someone was caressing my dick. "James, you there?" "Huh?" I said. "You spaced out there for a sec. You got distracted?" He smiled and winked, and bounced his pecs -- more innocent than arrogant. "Anyway, I was saying -- you see how the bed is all fucked up?" I now noticed that the bunk bed was indeed fucked up. Instead of being stacked vertically, both beds were laid side by side, almost touching each other. They left almost no floorspace in the small room. Frank continued: "Well, when I got here, they said that we had to set it up this way. It turns out I'm too heavy for the bunks. It's a safety hazard if you're over 300 pounds because they might collapse when two people get in them. I'm 320. Can you believe that shit? So they made me move them side by side. I don't really care, it's fine this way, but I wanted you to know in case you mind crawling over my bed to get to yours. It's fine if you want to swap roommates with someone else. They might still let you." "NO! It's fine! I don't mind," I said with far too much enthusiasm. "You sure? I know it's annoying." "Don't worry," I assured him. "Cool, I appreciate you being so chill about it. Here, let me help with your stuff." Before I could object, Frank bolted out the hallway door, bubble butt bouncing behind him, and grabbed both my enormous bags. As if they weighed no more than feathers, he dropped them in the room and closed the door. There was barely any space in the room. His pecs were once again mere inches from my face. I couldn't decide which I loved more, the furry one or the buzzed one. "Don't want to let the AC out," he said. "You mind if I finish this up while you're unpacking?" he asked, pointing down to his half-furry, half-buzzed torso. "No, not at all." I realized I had little chest hairs all over my face, from where his sweaty pec had slapped into me. I turned my back to Frank and unpacked my stuff, or tried to. I could barely think. I was just picking things up, putting them back down, in a daze. My hands were shaking. I tried to pretend that a bearded, 18-year-old, 320-pound, super-heavyweight bodybuilder wasn't trimming his body hair three feet away. As if I couldn't hear him wheezing. Fuck, even the way he held the beard trimmer in his giant paws was hot. Then I noticed all the jock paraphernalia littered around the room: Protein powder, creatine, trophies, supplements, a white jockstrap hanging on the door handle, a football helmet, bodybuilding magazines, a sweaty wife-beater on the floor. Was that a cum rag in the corner? I realized how intense the smell in the room was. Not mildewy or sour. A rich, earthy, masculine musk. Pure pheromones. Against my concerted will, my cock started to harden. Out of nowhere, Frank's massive, calloused hand clasped my entire shoulder. I gasped and spun around to face him. His twitchy, veiny pecs -- fully buzzed now -- were four inches from my face. The dark bristly chest hair looked like it was already starting to grow back. It took all the self-control I had not to bury my face in them. "Hey man," Frank said, his voice serious and deep. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about. Maybe we can sit down." I sat down on the bed, my arms covering my lap to hide my throbbing erection. Frank sat down right beside me, no personal space at all. The bed creaked loudly. His arousing smell was even more intense up close. Plus, somehow, his mounds of muscle looked even freakier seated and relaxed. Each of his hairy, veiny arms was thicker than my leg. Despite the serious expression on his face, my cock was starting to leak. "Look," he began, looking into my eyes earnestly. "You seem like a really chill guy, and, uh, there's something I, uh...I wanted to..." He trailed off. Was HE nervous? I couldn't believe this monster who could rip my arm off was stammering. "There's something you want to tell me?" I looked up from Frank's six pack, his perfect, heaving pecs, past his bulging, gorilla-like neck, his thick beard and sensual lips, and locked eyes with him. HE was blushing! "Yeah. It's something I haven't told many people about. But I've been thinking... New school, new roommate... I ought to warn you, in case you're not cool with it." "Warn me about what?" "I'm, uh... I'm...Um..." He was crimson red now. He hunched over, looking defeated, yet this posture only made his bare muscles look more swollen and unreal. When he lifted his arm up to scratch his forehead nervously, a 24-inch peak formed, and dark bushels of pit hair released an even stronger musk. I gasped. "It's OK, Frank, you can tell me." As I spoke, I reached out and touched his hairy shoulder. I was both desperate to touch his body and trying to be reassuring. Yet the muscle felt so rock-hard that I gulped with disbelief. "I'm... I'm....You should know I'm... I'm into, uh, into, um... Other... guys." "You're gay?" I said, shell-shocked. Now he was not just blushing, his lip was quivering. He looked like he might cry. But his eyes remained locked with mine, almost bravely. "I just thought it might be weird for you, sharing a room with... with... Well...I wanted to warn you." I sighed. "Well, I appreciate the warning. But it's not an issue, Frank." His eyes brightened. He smiled. So fucking adorable, I thought. "It's not?" "No, it's not a problem. Gay guys and straight guys get paired up all the time. It's not like being gay means you can't control yourself around your roommate." God, I thought to myself, I'm proof of this: How badly I wanted to kiss him right now. "I was so worried to tell you," he said. "Last month when you emailed me, I almost thought of telling you then. There are only a few other people I've ever mentioned it to. No one on the football team knows. They all assume I'm straight, because, you know." He gestured at his 320 pounds of beefy, barely clothed muscle. My throat went dry. "To be honest, Frank," I said, "I probably should have said something, too. It would have been a lot easier for you. I'm into guys too." His eyes widened. "WHAT!? You serious!?" "Uh, yeah..." "You're kidding me. You are too?" "Yep! Small world, right? Or whatever the expression... You know what I mean." Frank's mind looked completely blown. "You're fucking with me." "No, I am not." "Bro...That makes me so happy." "Me too. Honestly, I also felt a little worried about being paired with a straight guy. Wasn't sure how he'd react." "Dude..." He trailed off, and his eyes looked me up and down. Was he checking me out? Suddenly, Frank pulled me in for a bear hug. I felt the abrasive texture of his chest stubble, the pecs hard as granite, breathed in his sweaty musk. "I'm just so happy how this turned out," he said. My dick went from semi to rock hard in about one second, well beyond my control. I mean, a bare-chested bodybuilder the size of a Mr. Olympia was hugging me. I felt mortified. Even then, at 18, I knew I was quite hung, about 8 inches, and that my hard-on would be conspicuous. Yet his grasp was so strong, his musk so heavenly, there was nothing I could do but squeeze him tighter. Then I felt it. Frank's cock was hard too. 9 or 10 inches, from the feel of it. Suddenly I realized that Frank wasn't hugging me. He was groping me. His hands were squeezing my ass, my lower back, the back of my neck. He was wheezing, moaning, in a horned up kind of way. "Fuck ya, fuck bro... fuck ya..." he muttered quietly. I felt his thick beard and tongue caressing my neck, smelled the beautiful pheromones that wafted from his hairy pits. Then he started kissing me on the mouth, his tongue gentler than I would have expected. I was in such a state of shock that I didn't even reciprocate. I just let him grope me and kiss me, held captive in his beastly arms, my eyes wide open. The situation had escalated faster than I ever could have imagined. It had only been 10 minutes since I learned that the biggest, sexiest, hairiest muscle freak I'd ever seen was going to be my college roommate. Now he was kissing me, squeezing me, caressing my dick with his strong hands, pulling off my clothes... Frank shoved my face into his cleavage. Each pec was the size of a textbook. I sucked on his nipples in ecstacy. "AHH FUCK BRO!" he moaned -- so loud that I was sure the R.A. down the hall would hear it. As I did, it occurred to me that Frank had probably not met many other openly gay men. I might have even been the first. Maybe he thought that it was automatic for two guys -- once it was established that they were both gay -- to go at it like rabbits. (How ironic, I thought, that this hyper-sexualized muscle god probably had less experience in bed than I did.) Frank's naivete and eagerness, while perhaps a little sad, were also charming -- and flattering. Everything I did, like kissing his neck, or brushing my hand over his shaft, elicited ten times more arousal than I was expecting it to. When I slipped my hand into his gym shorts and cupped his grapefruit-sized balls, pre-cum gushed from his cock. "Fuck yeah dude. AW! AW! AW!" Moaning louder than ever, Frank laid me out on one of the beds. The mattress was bare. (Whether it was his bed or mine, I wasn't sure yet). He pinned me down -- his buzzed, veiny muscles looking even freakier as they writhed on top of me. The 18-year-old mountain of muscle kissed my neck, my lips, with more passion than I would have ever felt entitled to. His cock, which turned out to be more like 10.5 inches -- as superlative as the body it was attached to -- had burst out of his gym shorts, and pressed against my abdomen, still leaking a stream of pre. I could tell we were both close to cumming. Yet something in me snapped. I regained my senses. "Frank. FRANK. Wait a minute." I rolled him over onto his back. The bed frame squealed. I sat up on top of his teardrop-shaped super-quads, looking down at his surprised expression. From this angle, a giant shelf of pec meat obfuscated part of his face. His shockingly well-defined six pack pulsed in and out as he breathed heavily. His cock oozed more pre. "What?" he asked. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" "What do you mean? I thought you said you were gay." "Yeah, but I'm your roommate. Is hooking up... you know... a bad move?" "What... You...You... don't like me?" His face looked heartbroken and insecure, even while he propped up his head with a twitching 24-inch bicep. "No, no, that's not it at all, Frank!" He brushed me off from on top of him. I almost flew off the bed. Then he petulantly turned his back to me, so he was lying on his side facing the wall. The bed creaked and screeched. Even then, when I was afraid about having upset him, I was amazed by the muscles on display. My throat went dry. Frank's lats were so wide that his back soared several feet in the air, like a ship's sail. Each globe of his ass was the size of a watermelon. His weight made the whole mattress slope down towards his side. The force of gravity pressed me right against his back. "Am I too big for you?" he said, muffled, with his mutant lats to me. Was he crying? "What? No!" "People always get freaked out by me. Guys, girls... They think I'm going to hurt them or something..." he said. I caressed his traps gently. I couldn't believe this was the same muscle group that connected to my own neck. On him, they looked as wide and strong as a horse bridle. It was like he had a different anatomy than other human beings... Despite my grandstanding about not hooking up, I was still hard, and in fact, pretty close to cumming. I attempted to refocus. "Frank, c'mon. Turn around. Look at me," I said tenderly. He flipped onto his other side to face me. His weight caused such a large dip in the mattress that my face flew right into his sweaty pecs. I pushed myself out and looked him in the eyes. His veiny neck must have been 18 inches round, but his face looked surprisingly boyish and hurt. I tried not to look down at the unreal chest, cock and quads that were just inches away from me, totally naked now. "It's not that I'm freaked out by you," I said, not entirely honestly. Frank's muscles were extreme even by pro bodybuilding standards. He was 320 pounds, but he couldn't have had body fat above 5%. I didn't understand how an 18 year old could be this huge. How many years had he been on steroids? "You're not?" "Well, no. To be honest with you, Frank, I've always been into muscle. Like...Really into muscle. As long as I can remember. In fact, when I walked in here and saw you, I felt like I was dreaming. When I was 13, I used to steal bodybuilding magazines from 7-11 and jerk off to the photos. And you're bigger than any of them. You're bigger than Jay Cutler or Nick Walker or Big Ramy. And you're better looking, too. You're the hottest person I've ever met -- no, ever seen -- in my entire life." Frank's eyes brightened. I continued: "The thing is, just, uh... We're roommates. So I'm worried it's a bad idea to hook up.. You know... Maybe it will get awkward?" Now Frank raised a devilish eyebrow. "You like muscle?" he said, smiling. It occurred to me I had never admitted my obsession to anyone else before, even though it occupied me every hour of every day. "Mhm," I said. "You know what I'm into? Handsome, sexy, smart guys. Like you." (My heart almost stopped.) "When you walked in and I got a look at you, I didn't know how I'd be able to keep it in my pants all year bro. You're totally my type. And if you think for one second we're not going to hook up, just because we're roommates...When you're into muscle..." Now Frank flexed an arm with a cocky energy that made my head spin. "You think I'm big now? I'm just getting started. I'll be 350 by winter break. And if you think you're not going to worship these muscles, feel them up every single night, suck on them, cuddle them..." he shoved the peak, then his pit, into my face, suffocating me. I immediately came. Warm cum gushed all over the bare mattress and Frank's six pack. Frank got up and straddled me. He still flexed with one arm, jerked his enormous cock with the other. His weight was almost unbearable. "If you think we're not going to fuck every night... If you think we're not going to jerk off together every morning..." His face grew flushed as he tugged on his shaft, one bicep still flexed in a crazy peak. He slurped on his own arm. "AH, AH, UH, UH, UH!!" He sprayed a firehose of cum all over me, drenching my face and torso. I tasted it, a beautiful, sweet, salty taste, and swallowed it. Winking, he climbed off me, and drew me into his swollen arms. -- That day, we moved the two beds right next to each other, so they were basically connected. From then on, we cuddled every night of freshman year. I wouldn't say we were boyfriends. Not exactly. Our relationship only existed inside our dorm room. Outside of it, Frank was the ultimate football jock, the biggest muscle freak the campus had ever known. Most people got chills of fear (or arousal) when he waddled in a room. If anyone even suspected that Frank was gay, he would have been too afraid to say it out loud. Yet as soon as he'd close the dorm room door, Frank would rip his shirt off, kiss me passionately, straddle me with his hard cock bouncing up and down. Nor did I mind this arrangement. On the contrary, I loved knowing that he was all mine. Who would dare hit on him? I'd race home from the library or class, he'd come home from practice or a frat party, and we'd roll around in bed for hours. It never got old. I didn't even JO anymore. What was the point? The biggest, hottest, most hung man imaginable was sleeping next to me every night. I worshipped everything about Frank, even the things that would turn most people off. The constant meals of ground meat and rice. (Every two hours. Every day. From 8am to 11pm.) The vials of tren. (I even helped him inject it.) The snoring. The wheezing. The body hair. The musk. The roid gut. The slightly receding hairline from so much gear. It all drove me crazy. Frank wasn't kidding about getting bigger. He gained forty pounds in four months, pushing his weight up to 360. He lost some of the definition in his abs, yet I liked him even better this way. His cheeks got fuller, while his pecs and ass grew grotesquely large, like oversized balloons about to burst. Once or twice a month, he'd come home with the seat of his XXL shorts ripped apart. Like the creaking bed we shared, our relationship somehow, miraculously, stayed in one piece. I knew it couldn't last forever -- yet I also knew I'd probably never have this much fun again.
    1 point
  30. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 4: As soon as I started cycling, lifting and eating with Frank, my body responded better than I could have hoped. The night I first agreed to take steroids, I was 18 years old, 5’9, 155 pounds. I was in good shape from swimming and running, and knew I was pretty handsome, but I looked nothing like the muscle freaks I had jerked off to since adolescence. Being roommates with Frank pushed me to the extreme faster than I could have ever gotten there on my own. Once I committed, Frank viewed me as his special project, somewhere between a mentee and a ward. He saw my mass-building as equally important to his own. To supplement my diet, Frank would bring me endless, unvarying food from the dining hall (where, as a football player, he got unlimited meals). Our mini-fridge was so full of chicken breasts and ground beef that we had to buy another one and stack it right on top. He taught me to look at food as a source of fuel, not pleasure, and once I made this accommodation, it amazed me how much I could pack away each day. My intake accelerated until I was eating 500 grams of protein daily. Frank not-very-gradually ramped me up to a high dose of tren. Not as extreme as his, of course, but enough for my already-healthy libido to shoot through the roof. Luckily, I didn't experience any of the stuff I feared: acne, mood swings, shrinking balls, etc. All the side effects I had were, frankly, very sexy. My voice deepened noticeably; dark hair started to sprout on my chest and forearms; I woke up each morning, nuzzled in Frank's pecs, with an erection so hard it was almost intolerable. Of course, the most valuable part of Frank's tutelage was in the school gym. Two brutal, grueling sessions per day, every day, except Sunday ("rest day" -- more like 120 minutes of cardio). The first time we went to work out together, I was a panicked mess, insecure to even be seen next to Frank in his gym clothes. I remember the first lift we did together. Barbell bench press. "Watch what I'm doing," Frank said, voice deeper than Vin Diesel -- but he didn't need to tell anyone to watch him. Every eye in the gym followed Frank anywhere he went. He added five 45-pound plates on each side, 495 pounds, and knocked out 8 perfect reps. You could actually see the bar bending under the weight. He was even speaking to me as he did reps, calling attention to his form. ("See my grip?" he said through gritted teeth, nipples popping out of his tank top.) Then it was my turn. We spent two minutes removing plates, then I struggled to do a single rep with one 45 on each side. My arms gave out, and Frank spotted me with one hand. At the gym, the insecurities that I'd always nursed came out in full force. All of Frank's over-the-top horniness would disappear when we got in the gym: He became cool, composed, professional. We looked bizarre working out together. I'd watch Frank curl a 260-pound bar as a warmup, his veiny, 24-inch arms so swollen they looked like they might pop. Then he'd turn around and show me how to properly curl two 15-pound dumbbells, gently correcting me if I tried to go heavier than I was able to. The gym made me realize how exceptional Frank really was. I knew he was strong, but didn't know -- until working out with him -- that he was lifting heavier weights than the Mr. Olympias I jerked off to. There was a reason he looked like this. "Hey. You know that guy?" a hulking frat boy asked me one time, after Frank had stepped away. "Yeah, he's my roommate." "Your roommate?" The frat boy was confused and, I could tell, annoyed. He was a senior, one of the most juicy, muscle-bound jocks at our college. Probably 6'0", 260 pounds. Absent Frank, he would have been my sexual obsession, the campus muscle god. Now Frank, a mere freshman, had stolen his thunder, and to make matters worse, Frank was lifting with me every day. "Yes, my roommate." "Well, you realize he's squatting 840 pounds? For reps? He could be in the Olympics." I kept asking myself: How could Frank, this fucking monster, be attracted to a weakling like me? Wasn't he impatient, showing me how to do shoulder presses with 20-pound dumbbells? Yet I soon realized that all of my fears were unfounded. Frank was an incredible trainer. His patience was endless. And his professional demeanor -- which I took as diminished attraction to me, upon seeing how weak I was -- was just how he acted in the gym. Aside from eating, lifting was just about the only time Frank could focus and not let his libido take over. The only time his dick wouldn't get hard at the drop of a hat. Within days, I was growing stronger, and I could see the pride in Frank's eyes when I improved my form or hit a new PR. My grades plummeted. I studied weight training more than my textbooks. I did the bare minimum to not get expelled, less for academic reasons than to remain on campus with Frank as long as possible. -- Five pounds of muscle a week. That's how much Frank said I'd grow. And you know what? That's exactly what happened. One week of grueling lifting and nauseating eating, and I was 160. Up five pounds exactly. And the next week, I was 165, and two weeks later I was 175. I had gained 20 pounds of muscle in one month. I was incredulous. After this initial pop, my progress slowed, of course, but it didn't stop. The next month, I gained 10 pounds. Frank doubled my tren. By April, I was 200 pounds. ("What do you mean you can't come home for spring break?" "Sorry, Dad, I really need to stay here and study.") By June, I was north of 220 pounds. I had put on 65 pounds of muscle in six months. I looked like a different person. My shoulders had made the most shocking improvement. They turned into these hairy, bulging, flat-topped melons, jutting out even from behind, making every t-shirt tight around the sleeves. A perky shelf of pecs had grown in between them, even larger and plumper than my delts, and my nips had sprouted dark hair and pointed straight down under their weight. My back exploded in size. I became double-wide. I looked absolutely absurd, with my still-boyish face atop ultra-roided, superhero-like traps, wearing shirts that became so tight they left my midriff bare. After countless hours of punishing leg workouts, my quads, ass and hamstrings were spectacular to look at. My glutes stuck out like a capital P. I grew the diamond-shaped quads I'd always fetishized. I had to beg my parents to send me money so I could buy all-new clothes, vague on the reason why. (They assumed I was getting fat, "freshman 15," etc.) Not a single thing I owned fit me anymore, but I wasn't big enough for Frank's XXL hand-me-downs either. I didn't look so ridiculous working out with Frank anymore. To say that Frank liked my transformation was an understatement. My juiced-up physique made him even more insatiable, horny for me day and night. If I wasn't eating or lifting, I was having indescribable, balls-to-the-walls sex with Frank, almost hourly -- five times per day at least. Our sexual connection didn't lose its spark. It was like a roaring inferno, consuming everything else in our lives (except for bodybuilding and, for Frank, football), and the tren was like pouring gasoline on top. -- Impressive as my own growth was, during this same period, Frank had entered his most extreme phase of bodybuilding yet. "5-5-5," he called it. "Gonna increase tren, calories and weights 5% each week for five months." As the weeks compounded, his intake of food and steroids -- already remarkable -- became completely unhinged. By the end of his five-month sprint, he was eating 30 chicken breasts per day. One every 30 minutes. He was benching 620 pounds for reps. His tren dosage was as high as he could "safely push it" (his words), according to the Reddit threads where he got most of his information about steroids. He grew even faster than me. Up 10 pounds in January, 12 pounds in February, 16 pounds in March. When Frank hit 390 pounds, our scale broke. Even the one in the football training center couldn't weigh him. We had to order a new scale, specially made in Germany for the morbidly obese. It arrived seven long weeks later, and the anticipation of weighing ourselves was one of my hottest memories from this time. In solidarity, I had held off weighing myself during that stretch, so we could both learn our progress at the same time. We knew it was going to be shocking. The scale finally arrived one week before summer break. In our little room (a disaster, a cum dump, it looked like ten horny bodybuilders had been squatting in it), we got everything ready. We both stripped off all our clothes, not that we ever wore more than jocks or tight white Calvin Klein briefs stretched to tatters by our growing muscles. I went first. "225.1" Both our cocks shot up at the same time. "Oh fuck dude... Holy shit bro...So much fuckin' muscle bro...Oh fuck, oh fuck," Frank said, his eyes going blurry. He started kneading his fingers through my perfect pecs, sniffing my pits. He stuck his powerful tongue down my throat. "Fuck James, oh my god James, you're so fucking hot..." he mumbled with his tongue in my mouth. I pushed him away. "C'mon, Frank -- now it's your turn!" Frank took a gulp and stepped on the scale. The sheer magnificence of his body standing there was too much for me. I was stroking my cock, trying hard not to cum, as the digital scale processed his weight. The screen blinked WAIT, WAIT, WAIT. The seconds felt like minutes. Then finally, STEP OFF. "429.9" We both gasped. Frank's boner started quivering and leaking pre-cum. His face went flush. We both turned and faced the full-length mirror. Suddenly, he saw himself in a new light. He realized the size that he had packed on. "Whoa...Oh my god dude...Oh my god...Oh my god bro..." Frank said, stunned by his own reflection. "UNNHHH!" We both came without touching our cocks. I still remember how our loads shot off at the exact same moment, flew 4 feet across the room, and hit the mirror with a splash. As cum dripped down the looking glass, we stared in awe of the two unstoppable, handsome, horned-up freaks gazing back at us.
    1 point
  31. Part 4 below “It appears your superpowers and super maleness shall we say are maintained by a lemon-sized organ contained in your pelvis. So long as it is healthy through its release of various hormones and other peptides, it maintains your maleness and superpowers. But if it were destroyed, it would trigger a cascade of biological and genetic reactions that would convert a superpowered warrior into a 400 pound horny, breeding female!” Powerman knew now Dr. Piro had fully accessed his race’s biological data. He knew he had to stall and hope that with enough time his superpowers would return. He was feeling better but he knew he still wasn’t strong enough to break free. “You’re a fool, Dr. Piro,” interrupted the formerly powerful but still imposing hero. “My systems detected your hackers and gave them false information! Did you really think humans could outsmart the computer system of an advanced civilization like mine?” Powerman’s statement gave Dr. Piro pause. He thought about what he just said. “Don’t try to fool me, soon-to-be-neutered super stud!” the scientist answered. “If that were true, the information I found that said a high volt electrical shock would temporarily nullify your superpowers wouldn’t be true, and you wouldn’t be here helplessly prostrate before me!” “Well, then Piro, you must then also know that even if that were true, that gland is encased by an impenetrable material to protect it from any possible injury. So your plan still fails. Now release me, and I wont harm you.” “Ha! Stop wasting my time, Powerman. I also know that protective ball around that gland will open up on your orgasm and that is exactly my plan! Now Simon, go check on our lab guest to make sure he is ready.” “Yes, Dr. Piro,” replied Simon as he left the room. “You’re wrong, Piro. You’ll never be able to make me cum. My willpower is too strong for that. Now release me!” “We’ll just have to that test Powerman!” Simon entered the room where the guest was waiting. He was already mostly undressed except for long baggy sweat shorts. “Dr Piro wanted to me to check that you are ready.” “Don’t I look ready?” the guest answered pulling off his underwear. Simon eyed him admiringly and answered, “You look more than ready to me.” Simon then handed him two blue triangular pills and a glass of water. “Dr. Piro wants you to take these just to be sure you can complete this.” “Simon, you insult me! I’m a professional. I don’t need those. I’m sure you’ve seen me in action, haven’t you?” Simon blushed. “Well, yes I have. I think you’re amazing! But please take them. I’m just doing my job,” and Simon put the pills in the guest’s hand and left. Meanwhile at the lab….. Powerman had to keep stalling hoping his powers would return fast. He decided to keep talking. “I know what your planning, Piro. But no mechanical device will be sufficient to arouse me. Only actual skin on skin would work. So you are doomed to failure.” “Oh yes, Powerman. I am well aware of that and I have taken care of that from both ends!” Dr. Piro said laughingly. He walk over a box on a lab shelf, removed a device and brought to to Powerman’s face. “You see Powerman, this device was constructed especially for you! I call it SeedSucker 3.0. It will ride up and down on that alien phallas of yours and as you cum will suck out all your seed for storage for my future experiments. It is lined inside with a thick, genetically engineered, self-lubricating pig intestine to give you that living feel shall we say.” Dr. Piro, cocking his head back, gave out a loud laugh. “Now, it time to install this.” Taking a razor blade, the scientist began to cut way at the front of Powerman’s red briefs. Once opened, our superhero’s genitals popped out like a metal spring being released from its encasement. There hung his 12 inch, flacid alien phallus and nut sack for all to see. “Well, the photos in your biological files do not really do your race justice, soon to be femboy!” remarked Piro. Piro then slid his device down over Powerman’s penis. He attached the device’s wires to a control panel and pressed a few buttons. Powerman could feel the device inflate inside around his dick for a tight yet comfortable, warm and moist fit. Powerman was growing more worred. Although the device wasn’t arousing him yet, it certainly was comfortable. He tried to lift one of his fingers that was being held down by the titanium bands that were holding his hands in place but he was still not strong enough to break it. He had to keep talking and delay more. “Ha, Piro. I barely feel that,” lied Powerman. “Oh I assure you, superdope, once its activated, you will feel it and will be begging for more,” responded Piro. “Oh look, Powerman, Simon and our special guest have arrived.” Standing in the lab doorway was Simon and behind him was a dark haired, mustached, tan skinned, shredded and shirtless man. To be continued.
    1 point
  32. Sorry for the long wait! Been super busy. Here you go. Thank you for the comments all! - Chapter 18 - family affairs Paul looked at Milos getting out of their car, and he saw the car getting slightly higher once Milos’ hefty weight got off it. The thought of that mass of muscles always made Paul weak in the knees. And his assertiveness, his cocky attitude was a winning cocktail that Paul could just not resist. But he glanced in the passenger seat and saw the massive, built arab looking like he completely filled the car, and could not believe how handsome and sexy he was. And he looked much bigger than Milos. Alex looked angry and muttered to his father “Why do you need to know? Does it matter? You are never home anyway!”. Suddenly the rear door of the car opened and someone got out of it. It was Alex’s mother. “Son, you should be nicer to your father, he had a hard day, and he cares for you. We drove for quite a while so we will all need to go inside and perhaps have a chat. And by the way this is our friend Mo” and she gestured to the big guy in the car. The door opened and slowly the massive mountain of muscle stepped out of the car. As soon as he grabbed the door with his big paw, it was obvious that the guy was enormous. As Paul stared at the beast, he saw the car lifting up for the substantial weight that left it, and he heard a metallic creak which just made the whole scene even hotter if at all possible. As soon as he was out he stood slowly at full height, towering on everyone but even more on Alex’s mother who was next to him. His size was almost as Alex when he was at his full glory. He slowly stepped towards Alex and gave him a good look. “Nice to meet you strong young man, your father told me about you. Nice muscles. Is that your friend?” Nodding towards Paul. Before Alex managed to respond, his mother took over the situation. “Ok stop you boys. Alex and Milos, let’s go inside. Mo, you better sit this meeting out for now. Hang around with your new friend (pointing towards Paul) or you can drive back to base, up to you.” Paul was surprised to see how everyone seemed to obey Alex’s mother like there was no other option, obviously there was something going on there and they were going to have some revelations for Alex perhaps, as Alex looked angry but at the same time curious and startled about the situation. They all stepped in the house, leaving Mo and Paul outside. It was quite warm, Paul was wearing footy shorts and flip flops, showing off his beefy legs, and he had a revealing tank, his body was definitely impressive although next to Mo he felt pretty small…and he didn’t know what to say to the hulk that was slowly walking towards him with a cheeky smile on his face. Paul was hesitant but muttered a nervous “Well, mate, you look pretty damn massive, you must be a pro bodybuilder or something?” Mo was looking at Paul and checking him out. “Well I love to train and get fucking strong, I bet you do the same, you got a killer body there. Man I am quite tired, don’t think I feel like driving back. How about I crash down at your place? If you don’t mind, I’ll be quiet and I’m happy with a sofa. Just taking my shoes off sounds like a dream, my big feet are very sore” Paul already looked at the size of Mo’s shoes and could only dream of those massive feet. He wanted to see. He needed to see. And the body. That body without that suit. What kind of incredible hard mass of muscles. He was excited, confused and a bit worried, but the sexual excitement was vastly winning. Mo seemed very relaxed and looked genuinely tired, so there was little hesitation. “Sure, well, come in, I have a sofa and I am alone this week, my parents are camping in the bush” They walked in and Mo’s weight made the floorboards creak heavily, making Paul even more excited. “Nice place,man really cosy. Do you mind if I take my shoes off?” said Mo, while taking his jacket off and revealing a shirt that was skintight, and detailing a massive outline of a mix between an offseason bodybuilder and a powerful linebacker. Paul almost gasped at the sight. “Ough…ooof course man, can I get you a beer or something?” “Oh I would rather have a glass of milk or a protein shake” Paul looked at the giant taking off his shoes, and went into the kitchen looking back a few times. Mo wasn’t looking and Paul had a very good perv at him while he was taking his socks off and revealing those hulking manly thick feet. “Sure I will make two shakes, get yourself comfortable” From the kitchen Paul peeked, not able to resist - he saw the size of his bare feet and he felt a jolt in his balls. The massive man, standing barefoot, started unbuttoning his shirt at his wrists and chest. He rolled up his sleeves and turned around facing Paul and getting towards the kitchen. As soon as Mo looked back, Paul nervously looked away, being caught perving. Mo looked tall, even barefoot, with his muscles now clearly outlined and exposed through the shirt. Paul could not hold back “fuck man you are massive, your arms are huge, and your legs…and feet. Fuuck.” Mo chuckled. “I get that a lot, thanks for having me here”, without giving Paul much attention he looked at the collection of protein powders and supplements in the kitchen, while Paul was nervously making the protein shakes. Paul wasn’t sure about what was going on the big guy’s head but he was hoping to get close to him, to his muscles, he was in awe. Mo grabbed the protein shake and lifted it up, gulping it down in a few massive sips. Paul saw the incredible size of the arm while he was downing the shake like it was his last meal. Paul was mesmerised “Wow man, your arms, I see you have elastic fabric for your shirt otherwise you would destroy it!” “Yeah that’s true man, this stuff is great “ as he flexed in a most muscular, looking at his own arms and the ridiculous massive peaked biceps. Looking satisfied from the shake, he muttered “Nice one mate, feeling much better. Now, can I take a shower, do you mind?” Mo started stripping off his shirt, looking at Paul. He slowly revealed his massive pectorals, big nipples, hairy chest and chiseled abs, struggling to get the shirt off and popping out his massive boulder shoulders from it. Last but not least his massive arms were visible in full glory. Paul thought he couldn’t possibly comment again on those incredible muscles and tried to keep that smooth “Sure I’ll give you a towel” Mo was noticing how Paul was into his muscles and felt a rush of muscle lust like an electric bolt of energy. He turned around and casually flexed his torso and arms, walking back to the lounge, where he slowly took off his pants. Paul’s dick was growing, and there was no stopping it. To see Mo’s chest and back was too much to handle. And to then see those humongous legs come to life in all their arab hairy glory was a total killer. Not to mention the huge calves.By then Paul’s cock was leaking hard. Mo turned towards Paul naked, except for his tight briefs. The look of the gargantuan arab giant was overwhelming, He looked solid like steel and sexy in a way that was making Paul weak at the knees. Then, Paul looked down and he saw the most massive bulge in Mo’s briefs. The outline of his balls and massive cock was so prominent that Paul felt the beginning of an orgasm build up. Shocked and without being able to not look at the python, he handed the towel to Mo nervously “Oh ehm. Here’s your towel, mate…” Mo took the towel and threw it on the sofa, looking at Paul with a casual yet interested look, focusing on his chest. “Paul, how about you take your top off and show me those pecs, they look pretty damn good.” Paul was now super nervous but also uber excited. He obliged in silence. He was in a very good shape, his chest was great and his pecs well defined and beefy. His footy shorts were now unable to hide the massive hardon he built up. Mo looked and nodded “Yeah, not bad mate, nice muscles” as he grabbed and felt Paul’s triceps and biceps. “Flex” Paul nervously did a double bicep feeling stupid doing that in front of a much bigger man. But it was a nice, friendly guy, and also arab, handsome, and also built as a fucking gorilla. Mo turned towards the big mirror in the lounge and flexed next to Paul “Arent’ we strong hey mate what do you think” Paul’s erection was now painful and a blob of precum stained visibly his grey shorts. Mo noticed. Looking at Paul intensely, he grabbed him with his massive paw and reassuringly mentioned “You like muscle, strength. I am a lot stronger than you think and you love that, I can see from your hardon. I think I should put you at ease and let my python grow too, I just need a little help. “ and he gently grabbed Paul’s hands and guided them to his huge pectorals, grabbing the juicy nipples. Paul grabbed them and felt the hardness of the muscles, and started playing with them and pulling them. In seconds Mo’s bulge grew. A lot. The massive snake uncoiled and sprung to life, tenting his briefs in a way that Paul has never seen before. Paul stared with his mouth open at the huge pole tenting up, threatening to rip the briefs to shreds. Mo grabbed his briefs with his massive hands and effortlessly pulled outwards, slowly shredding and ripping them apart. The anaconda sprung out, finally free, with a massive head oozing precum. As Paul dropped his shorts and briefs, letting his cock out, fell to his knees and felt his orgasm was building up like crazy, he abandoned himself and succumbed to Mo’s superior godly insane sexyness. He went for the kill and engulfed the apple-sized head with his mouth, tasting the juices and trying to take at least some of that huge pole in his throat. Paul’s hands were definitely big and manly, yet they were unable to completely grasp the pole, his fingers weren’t touching around it. That was a first. Mo’s pole was almost a full mast, after a few minutes of pleasure he grabbed Paul by his armpits and lifted him like a doll. Up and up, until his dick was close enough and then Mo sucked it hard. Paul grabbed Mo’s arms as he was lifted, and feeling the concrete slabs that were his triceps with all the veins and the hair, he could not hold it. He sprayed a full load into Mo’s mouth, who sucked him well dry. Mo let Paul go and he stumbled, almost falling for his exhaustion and thrill. Then went back to Mo’s cock, still super hard, and started pumping it, facing it directly and admiring the size and hardness of the head. Mo knew very well that his pole was about to shoot up explosively and that possibly meant smashing Paul’s skull instantly, although he found that extremely hot he was not there to kill his new friend. Then he had an idea. He pulled away Paul “Hey go in your kitchen and get a sturdy wooden slab, those ones you use to cut meat and stuff. Paul was confused but obliged. Mo grabbed the slab and positioned it right in front of his cock, as if he was going to smash through with it thought Paul? That seemed weird and insane. But in his mind he thought of the way that Alex cock was shooting up a bit, perhaps they shared the same peculiarity? “Trust me this is going to be fun, keep pumping my cock and then switch and pull my nipples really hard” Paul pumped his cock, watching the precum ooze, and then pulled hard the nipples of the huge man. Mo shuddered a little and then suddenly he felt a jolt, and his cock shot up in size and hardness, instantly, shattering the wooden slab and spraying around wooden shards around them. Mo was grunting like a gorilla “Yea, fuck yeah, unstoppable!”he grabbed firmly the remains of the slab in his hands and crushed them like they were paper, showing off his herculean strength. Paul was already aroused again and to see that in front of his eyes was incredible, he felt a second orgasm mount and he grabbed the elongated and even thicker cock, feeling its steel hardness. And Paul came again. “Now we both need a shower” Mo grabbed his pal and they both showered together, lathering their muscles and feeling each other's bodies. They dried up and Paul said “so you on the sofa, right? See you tomorrow” and Mo smiled, bearhugged Paul and they both went in Paul’s bedroom. Mo deep-kissed Paul and they went to bed, which creaked under Mo’s weight, explored each other and stayed hard most of the night… In the meanwhile at Alex’s, his mother was sitting at the table, with Milos and Alex ready for the talk. “Alex, you are a big man now so there are a few things we need to talk about. Let’s say we need to talk business, and my business is my life. But most importantly, and without too much chatting, let’s get to the point. I’m not your real mother. Let me explain what Milos and I exactly do. I think you might find it interesting.” TO BE CONTINUED
    1 point
  33. My plan all along was to go back in time from the first installment to show how Alex went from submissive, scared, and skinny into the dominant, huge, ravenous muscle beast he is going to become. I hope you all enjoy. He's gonna start growing soon. [Part II: Move-in day, 9 Months Earlier] Alex looked up at the dormitory in front of him. It was a big ugly concrete structure and looked more like a prison than a college dorm. It was nearly 6pm and the sun was setting fast. He’d hoped to arrive much earlier in the day but his parents had been difficult as usual. They didn't want him going to college. He struggled up the three flights of stairs with his duffle bag and backpack. He was winded by the time he made it to the top. Before opening the door from the stairwell, Alex heard raucous male voices. Lots of “Bro what the fucks” and “Damn, did you hit that?” Generally, things that made him really uncomfortable. This was why he wanted to arrive much earlier in the day. Get in, get settled in, get comfortable and hide. Since he’d been homeschooled from an early age, he’d spent very little time around his peers. He took a deep breath and opened the door onto the third floor. Immediately, the smell of pizza and beer, and something else he wasn’t quite familiar with hit Alex hard in the face. Alex made himself look as small as possible, quite a difficult task as he stood 6’3”. He was however skinny as a rail and always had a way of appearing smaller than he was. Alex turned left, away from the voices, hoping against hope that his dorm room was this way. “God was this a mistake” he thought. Room 312, Room 311, Room 310…he followed the hall looking for 301. The dorm was a big rectangle with one large bathroom in the center. He rounded a corner, the voices started getting louder and louder. “Dammit” he thought. Of course his room would be right where the guys all were. 303… 302… “Hey hey! New Guy! What’s up?” said one of the boys. Alex looked at the group of guys gathered in the common space. They were in various levels of undress. Some just in boxers, others fully clothed, all of them were attractive and clearly having a great time. And right behind them, was Room 301. He gulped. “Hi, um, my room is right behind you…could I just” Alex mumbled. “My name’s Chris, you in 301? We met your roomie earlier. Cool guy. That fucker is ripped!” exclaimed an extremely handsome black man. HIs arms entirely filled the sleeves of his shirt and his legs were stretching his short shorts to their breaking point. Chris extended a beefy hand for Alex to shake. Alex reached out his arm as best he could seeing as he was weighed down by his backpack and duffle bag. “I’m Alex” he said, cringing as his dainty fingers were engulfed by Chris’s. “Could I just get by you?” “Yah sure man, get settled in. We’re just shooting the shit. Join us when you’ve put your stuff down” invited one of the other boys. Alex fumbled his way through the boys and got to his door. Shaking, he managed to get the key into the lock and literally fell inside. The moment he closed the door behind him he let go of the huge breath he was holding inside, his heart pounding from the interaction he just had. Those guys were so different from anything he had experienced. Confident, carefree and uninhibited. Alex laid his duffle down on the empty bed near the door and stared around. Half the room was already fully-decorated. There were giant tubs of protein powder on the dresser. Posters of ripped bodybuilders and superheroes on the walls and a neatly folded pile of clothes lay on the other bed. Alex set himself to unpacking his few cheap possessions. It took an absurdly short amount of time for him to put his side of the room “together”. After he was done, it barely looked like anyone was there at all. There was no personality at all. Once again feeling entirely inadequate for this new college life, he pulled from his backpack his measly “dinner”. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a Coke. In addition to being narrow-minded and controlling, his parents were dirt poor. Alex was so used to barely eating that it didn’t bother him anymore, hunger was his standard. As Alex tucked into his PB&J he started to absent-mindedly look at the stuff on the desk next to his. There was a spiral bound notebook whose cover read “Pete’s Get Huge Plan”. He flipped through the notebook and saw lots of dates, names of exercises and numbers he didn’t quite understand. As he began reading the latest entry, “Chest and Tricep Day”, Alex opened his soda, and a sudden HISSSSSSSS shocked him out of his stupor. The Coke which had been tossed up and down coming up the stairs sprayed everywhere, covering Alex completely head to toe and soaking the notebook. “Oh my God” he exclaimed. He was drenched. He grabbed one of his old gray towels and wiped the notebook off as best he could, then the desk and chair and finally his own face. There was no point even trying to clean off his clothes, they would need to be washed. Alex stripped off and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. You could see his ribs under his baby smooth skin. He saw there was soda in his hair and all over his arms and legs too. He’d have to take a shower, and that meant walking through the gang of guys still goofing off right outside his door. “Ok Alex, you got this! You wanted to grow up and get out. Here you go!” Alex steeled himself. He wrapped the towel around his waist, grabbed his Ziploc bag with Dollar store body wash, opened the door and walked as quickly as he could through the guys towards the showers. Eyes glued to the floor the whole time. “That wasn’t so bad he thought” as he dashed into the shower and began to soap himself up. After he rinsed himself clean, Alex took a deep breath before leaving the shower. He wrapped his towel tightly around his skinny waist. He scooted past various guys lounging on the common area couches and just started to fit his key in the lock when he heard a booming deep voice. “Hey Alex! Can you help us with something?” Alex turned slowly on the spot. “Come here, we need your help.” it was Chris, the buff guy from earlier, only now he was shirtless. His dark chocolate skin made his muscles pop. His pecs sat fat and proud under a wide set of shoulders. Cum gutters framed his beautiful taut waist. “Can I just …” whimpered Alex, gesturing to his room. “No no, this will be quick” Chris beckoned Alex over with a hand. Chris was accompanied by another shirtless man. Chris put his muscly arm around Alex and whispered in his ear. “So the boys and I just had a little wager going. I bet them that you'd help me measure my cock.” Alex froze like a deer in headlights. He could smell the alcohol emanating from Chris's mouth. Alex could feel his bicep flexing against the back of his neck. “So can you help a guy out? You don't mind right? I’ve got a handle of vodka riding on this. I’ll share with you…” Alex just stared straight ahead not saying anything. “Good man!” Chris said, slapping him on the back. Alex buckled under the force and ended up sitting on one of the benches in the common area. His towel nearly fell off. Alex clutched at it, going completely red in the face. Chris straightened up and pulled down his shorts. Alex glanced at his heavy pouch. “Alright boys!” said Chris, “The bet on the table is that my cock is thicker than Alex’s flexed arm” Alex’s eyes snapped up in horror. The guys in the room started laughing and jeering. “If it is, y’all owe me a handle of vodka” “Alright let’s see it then!” “Back up boys! Don’t want to put anyone’s eyes out with this monster” Chris joked while palming his dick. Alex watched as it plumped and grew. Chris then stripped off his underwear fully whipping out his engorged cock and heavy ballsack. His massively thick cock continued to lengthen. He then started walking around the circle of guys, Alex saw the way his juicy muscle ass bounced as he walked. “Give it a kiss” Chris said to a handsome guy directly across from Alex. “You too,” he said to another guy. Chris continued walking around the circle. Each guy in turn kissed his still thickening cock. Finally coming back around to Alex himself. Alex looked up at the ripped torso and handsome face in front of him. “Now it's your turn Alex” Chris smiled. “Kiss it for goodluck” Chris then moved his enormously thick cock right up to Alex’s face. Alex hesitated momentarily, it was so big, then Chris gently slapped his dick right into Alex's lips. “Good boy,” Chris murmured. “Alright Alex, let’s see you flex” To emphasize this, Chris brought his arm up by his head and Alex watched as the softball sized muscle jumped to life, veins etched on its thick juicy surface. Alex, going even redder still, raised his stick thin arm up towards his ear and squeezed as hard as he could. Chris walked around him and standing behind Alex’s right shoulder, lined his dick up side by side with Alex’s trembling arm. Alex felt the hot thick rod pressing insistently against his upper arm. The heat emanating off Chris felt so intense that Alex started to vibrate with. “Not even a fuckin contest!!!!” yelled Chris. His hard, veiny cock was clearly thicker Alex’s arm. “Come on dude, you can flex harder than that!” Alex squeezed his tiny arms as hard as he could but he was no match. His stick thin arms were pathetic. Chris then grabbed Alex’s upper arm with his left hand and his own cock with his right and started jerking them off simultaneously. Horrified and embarrassed, Alex wrenched himself free, grabbed his stuff from the bench and high-tailed it to his door. As he was fitting the key in the lock his towel fell. The boy's laughs still ringing in his ears, Alex threw himself on his bed. “Hi there.” said a voice. Alex snapped up. He wasn’t alone in the room.
    1 point
  34. Some ideas, Byran wants to see his dad 'pecs bust a load' and suck his own cock. So Byran and his dad work on exercising his dad cock, like using penis pump, having his cock to lift weights, taking supplements, genetic modification, etc. One day his dad cock become long enough to do those. Since he has control all of his muscle, he can control his cock not to get too big when he fuck his own son, so Byran doesn't get hurt. He might then gain extra ability to move his cock like a snake to wrap Byran body and finally enter Byran mouth or ass. He might take his own son to sit on his erected cock while he walk in the town, shock people who have seen it. Since Byran dad can cum insane amount, there might be scene that Byran want to be coated fully in cum or soak in bathtub filled with cum. I guess his dad must already have some sign of aging on his face, Byran want to see his dad more handsome, his dad could have gone for skin treatments to get younger, more chiselded, more handsome face. Byran hasn't play his dad nipples yet though. Byran want to see his dad grow even more, and his dad do so. There is muscle measurement scene to compare before and after.
    1 point
  35. Chapter 9 “Did you hear that?” Det. Morgan said. “They’re here,” Sean looked toward the passageway. “We need to get out of here. This place is too cramped.” Travis still had his gun aimed at Sean. “Oh, come on Travis,” Sean said. “Patrick asked me to kill him. I made a deal. It was the only way. What? You think I’m going to kill you? Come on man.” “You’re good?” Travis asked, lowering his gun slightly. “I’m good.” Sean smiled. Inside he hungered for more growth. Patrick had given him a taste, and now he needed more. He told himself it was because he needed to be bigger to defeat the twins, but a part of him had enjoyed killing Patrick, feeling the warm blood on his hands and face. Had the demon been right. Was there a darkness in him? “Ok, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Travis said, turning toward the exit. Jean had already ventured out. Vincent was right behind her, followed by Travis. With their backs turned, Sean saw his chance and seized it. He raced forward and grabbed Travis from behind, wrapping his thick arms around his colleague and locking him in a bear hug. He felt stronger than he had moments before and began to squeeze until he heard ribs cracking. There was new power coursing through his swollen muscles. Sean felt incredible. He easily took Travis’ gun away and let it fall to the ground. Travis grunted and struggled, but he could free himself from Sean’s iron grip. “Sean! No!” Jean shouted and turned on a dime. She aimed her gun straight at him but couldn’t pull the trigger before Vincent was on her. “Don’t kill him!” Vincent said, shoving her into the wall. Her head struck the stone and ger gun fired one aimless shot, that echoed down the passageway. “Need.. to… get… bigger!” Sean said through gritted teeth, as he clamped down on Travis’ neck. The thick, heavily muscled neck put up a fight, but soon gave way. Bicep and forearm crushed voice box, snapped tendons and ligaments, and severed the vertebral column. The neck seemed to stretch longer until the skin tore. Still Sean squeezed, until the head popped off and he was showered with a spray of blood. “Bigger! Stronger!” Sean grunted as his body swelled once more, pushing the seams of his blue uniform to their absolute limits. “Oh fuck yeah. Look at me Vincent. Look how huge I’m getting!” His cock swelled, threatening to tear though the seat of his pants. The growth was too much of a turn on. He couldn’t contain his arousal and moaned loudly as he groped his now larger body, pre-cum flowing like a fountain down his pantleg. “Why did you do that?” Vincent asked, looking so scared and small. Sean flexed his biceps, tearing the shirt’s seams at the pits and across his bicep peaks. “I did it for this!” He smiled, demonically. “Growth, size, power, muscle. So much muscle!” His eyes caught sight of Jean laying on the ground, massaging her bloody forehead, looking confused. “I need more!” Sean lunged forward. Vincent stepped in front of him and held a hand out. Sean growled at his lover. “You’re not going to hurt me.” Vincent said. “You love me. So growl all you want. I’m not scared.” “You’re right, I do love you, baby, and If you love me, you’ll see how much I need this, and you won’t try to stop me.” He smirked. “Don’t you want to see me bigger?” “Kill the Glencross twins.” Vincent demanded. “Leave Jean alone.” “I’m not big enough for them. I need to grow again.” Sean said. “And besides She’s a witness. If she’s aloud to live and tell the truth about me, we’ll never be together again.” Vincent lowered his head, considering this fact. “Don’t listen to him Vincent,” Jean said, groggily. “Help me find my gun. Damn! I can barely see.” Vincent stepped aside. “Their deaths better be worth it. You better kill those fucking twins.” Sean stepped toward Jean. She scurried backward on all fours and began to kick. “No! Stay the fuck back!” Sean grabbed her legs and lifted her with ease. He felt so strong. Superhuman. He began to fantasize about how strong he would feel after more killings, but then began to worry. How strong were the Glencross twins after all the people they had killed? He swung Jean, slamming her body into the wall. Her scream was like sweet music to his ears. Then he held her in front of him, by her thin ankles and spread his arms out as far they would go. Jean wailed as Sean ripped off one of her legs, splitting he like a wishbone. An arterial spray struck him as he announced “I want more size!” A third growth spurt overcame him, sending waves of pleasure across his body. He came in his pants as his veiny, striated muscles burst out of his uniform. The buttons on his chest went flying as his mammoth pecs popped free from their cloth prison. Sean tore his cum soaked pants off, revealing an iron hard rod. He flexed his whole body, feeling like a god. “I don’t know if I’m big enough,” Sean said. “But I feel like I can take on anything!” Vincent picked up Travis’ gun, along with the taser and pepper spray from his belt. He stood beside his man, who now dwarfed him like never before. Looking up at the pumped-up hunk, he said, “You’ll have backup.” Sean leaned down, palmed Vincent’s firm ass with a huge hand, lifting him off his feet with ease, and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. They left the passageway, side by side, ready to face the Glencross twins.
    1 point
  36. Chapter 8 Sean stumbled to his feet and ran towards Vincent, planting a quick kiss on his lips. He grabbed his lover and began running up the hill, towards where the gunshot that saved him had come from. It took him a few moments to realize what had happened, because It seemed to happen so quickly, but as he ran up the hill all the pieces fell into place. When Detective Lerner was attacked, the two gunshots he fired alerted Det. Morgan’s team, causing them to come running. Just as Sean was about to meet his demise, Morgan’s team arrived and shot one of the twins, saving his life. He thanked God for Lerner’s unintentional shots. “Are you two alright?” Jean asked as they approached her. “We’re fine,” Vincent said, bent over and huffing. Sean ignored the question. Instead, he turned his attention to Patrick. “You were right!” he panted. “You were fucking right. Everything you said was true. He grew…he…he grew right in front of our eyes.” “You saw one of the twins grow?” Jean asked. Sean nodded. “Like, seriously?” Travis asked. “Holy Shit!” “How the hell do we fight something like that?” Sean asked. “I’ve been thinking about that,” Patrick said. “We may have to fight fire with fire.” Jean looked at him. “How’s that?” “Follow me, while I tell you why I came here tonight.” *** “So, you’re saying the source of the twins' power is this demonic book?” Jean asked. “Not exactly,” Patrick replied, as he led the group through the dark halls of the manor. Halls that smelled of smoke and death. “The power comes from the demon summoned through the book.” “So, destroying the book wouldn’t take away their power?” asked Vincent. “No, but they’ll lose it after tonight anyway,” said Patrick. “My intentions in destroying the book weren’t to stop the twins. It was to stop the curse. To prevent anymore Glencross men from being able to use this evil power. I needed to atone for years of inaction, standing idly by while members of my family slaughtered innocents to satisfy their lust for size and power.” Jean rolled her eyes. She didn’t see how that would help them in their current situation. “It’s nice that you want to make things right,” she said. “But you mentioned fighting fire with fire…” Patrick Glencross stopped by a plain looking wood-paneled segment of wall between two massive, framed portraits of heavily muscled men in suits. “Here we are,” he said. “Here where?” Jean said, frustrated. She had two killers running loose while she was participating in the worst episode of Cribs. “This is just the middle of a hallway.” “The estate has many secrets,” Patrick said, before banging on one of the wood panels three times. The police took a step back as the wall opened revealing a secret passage. “The book should be in here. You were wondering what I meant by fighting fire with fire. Well, what if before destroying the book we summoned that demon and made a deal of our own?” Jean stared at him, speechless. “You’re crazy.” Travis said. “No. I’m desperate,” Patrick said, before disappearing into the passageway. Jean aimed her flashlight behind him and followed, then stopped and turned towards the men. “You boys coming?” They didn’t travel far before Patrick stopped. The secret passage came to an end in a medium sized, pentagonal room, with walls of stone. In the very center of the room was a round stand with three long legs and a worn leather-bound book atop it. The book had the appearance of something ancient, like it could have been as old as the world. “And there lies evil,” Patrick Glencross said. Sean reached out and touched the book. He couldn’t help it. The cover was warm and smooth like a lover’s flesh. “Careful,” said Patrick. “We’re not ready to wake it yet.” Sean drew his hand away, but not before a vision flashed before his eyes. He saw himself twice the size he was. His blue uniform was in tatters, torn from his swollen muscles. He was so colossal and ripped a pro bodybuilder would have been jealous, and a voice in the back of his head said, “It can be yours.” “Every time my nephews kill, they become bigger, stronger, and harder to kill themselves,” Patrick began. “And tonight, they have killed more than any Glencross in history. Our best chance of defeating them will be to use the power of the demon, their power, against them! But the question is, who will make the sacrifice? Who will give up some of their humanity, possibly their very soul, to stand against evil?” “Shit, it’s your plan. You do it,” Travis said. “My momma raised me to be God-fearing. I don’t mess with devil shit.” “A deal has already been made with the Glencrosses. I can’t make another. I lost that chance long ago.” Patrick turned to Vincent. Vincent made the sign of the cross, shook his head, and held his hands up. “Catholic boy.” Patrick turned to Jean, but before she could answer Sean burst out “I’ll do it!” “Are you sure?” Patrick asked. “We don’t have time to think about it!” Sean looked at Vincent and received a silent look of approval. “I’ll fucking do it!” Patrick opened the book halfway, then began flipping through the pages until he reached a blank page. He turned the book toward Sean and handed him a small pocket knife. “Touch the page and say you wish to make a deal.” “What do I do with the knife?” Sean asked. “The Demon will tell you that later.” Sean wiped a thousand beads of sweat from his forehead and stepped forward. He placed a hand on the book and said the words. Instantly he was alone. The room was the same as before, but Patrick, Jean, Vincent, and Travis were gone. “What deal do you wish to make?” Sean jumped at the sound of the voice coming from behind. He turned to see who had asked the question and discovered a monstrous creature with burgundy skin as rough as a crocodile’s and horns as black as obsidian. But the most striking thing Sean noticed was the musculature of the being. He was like Markus Rhul in his prime, thick from head to toe. Sean stepped back, bumping into the book stand, and nearly falling over. “Name your desire mortal!” Said the demon, in a booming voice. Sean paused. He tried to form the words but they wouldn’t pass his lips. After a deep breath he stammered something inaudible. “What!?” said the demon. “I desire size and strength!” Sean shouted. “The power to stand toe to toe with the Glencross twins.” The demon’s mouth curled into a smile, revealing a row of jagged teeth. “Ah, the Glencross twins. They are doing good work.” “Not the word I would use,” Sean mumbled. “But,” the demon continued. “They are nearing the end of their contract. And will need to be replaced…” “I just need to beat them,” Sean said, holding his body tense to keep from trembling. “You are a policeman, a do-gooder,” The demon scoffed, then paused, stroking his pointy chin. “But I do sense a dark side. Yes…quite dark. You are corruptible.” Sean didn’t think he was corruptible. He was a good man. No demon could change that. “My gift comes with a price. You must kill for it,” said the demon. “Kill with your bare hands. And when the blood touches your body, you will feel my power.” The demon brought his arms up and flexed, every muscle exploding with size and vascularity. Despite his otherworldly form, Sean couldn’t help but find himself getting aroused. He reached down and adjusted his crotch as he stared at the demon’s impressive muscularity. “I’ll do what needs to be done.” Sean said. “You’re puny,” said the demon. “Less than 300 lbs by the look of it. If you have any hope of standing against the Glencross twins as they are now you’ll need to start killing right away and not stop until you face them. Are you ready?” Sean wasn’t sure he was. Who would he kill? Could he even do it with his bare hands? “I’m ready,” he lied. “Sean Henderson, on this day, June 28, each year for four years, whomever you kill will make you stronger, larger, and more powerful, and when you die, your soul is mine. Do you agree!?” “Why only four years” The demon sneered. “No mortal deserves my power forever. Now, do you agree!?” “I agree.” “Take the blade,” said the demon “Cut you hand and with that feather pen and your blood as the ink, sign your name in the book.” Sean did as he was commanded and when the last letter of his name was on the page, the demon laughed and in a flash the room was back the way it was. The demon was gone. Jean, Vincent and the others were there, and the book was laying just as it was, with the knife. “Nothing happened,” Travis said. “Was something supposed to happen?” “What do you mean?” Sean asked. “You touched the book and said you wanted to make a deal, and then you just stood there,” Travis said. “Look at the book,” Patrick said. They all stared at it. On the previously blank page was Sean’s blood red signature. “None of us saw him do that.” “You couldn’t have seen me,” Sean said. “You all were gone. For like 10 minutes it was just me and the demon in the room.” “You only touched the book a minute ago,” said Vincent, visibly confused. “You did it?” Patrick grabbed him “You made the deal?” “Yes.” Sean nodded, “but I have to kill.” “Of course,” Patrick said. “Kill me.” “What?” “I came here ready to face my brother and my nephews alone. A part of me didn’t expect to make it back home,” Patrick said. “I…I don’t…” Sean was speechless. “You have to do it!” Patrick shook him. “I deserve it. I sat back while my family killed year after year and did nothing. I was complicit in every death. My inaction was my sin. I deserve to die!” “No…I…” Sean looked down at him. “Kill me. Kill me. Kill me!” Patrick slapped Sean across the face. Sean stared at him, shocked. Patrick moved to slap him again, but Sean grabbed his attacker’s arm. He outmuscled Patrick, by at least 75 lbs and easily held the arm back. Patrick spit in Sean’s face and something in the officer snapped. He pulled the arm straight and locked it in the bend of his arm, then snapped it like trig at the elbow. Patrick let out an agonizing scream. “You want to die!” Sean screamed. “Then die!” He grabbed Patrick by the head and slammed his skull against the stone wall with all his force. There was a crack as the skull caved in. Then he slammed it again and again, lost in a red rage. “Enough!” Jean shouted. “He’s dead!” Sean released Patrick’s unrecognizable head and let the limp body fall to the ground. He turned to see Jean and Travis with their guns aimed at him. Vincent stood between them looking equal parts, scared, sad, and disgusted. Sean felt the warm blood on his face. He looked down to see it staining his uniform and covering his hands. Then it happened. An orgasmic feeling came over him as the blood disappeared, soaking into his skin. He shook. “Oooh fuuuuck yeeeeah. I’m growing!” *** The Glencross brothers checked all around the exterior of the property but the group of pigs was nowhere to be found, though all their vehicles remained. “They must have gone inside,” Rupert said, staring at the fire damaged manor. Evan nodded. “Must have. Stupid. They can’t hide from us in our own house.” He began to walk toward the manor’s entrance, then stopped when he felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, bro?” Evan eyed him. “What if they didn’t go in there to hide?” Said Rupert. “What if they’re looking for something?” “Like what?” “I didn’t say anything before, because I wasn’t sure,” Rupert began, “but the more I think about it the more I’m certain. One of the people I fired at on the hill, was no fucking pig.” Evan’s eyes narrowed. “Who?” “Our uncle. It’s been a long time, but it was him.” “If that’s true, he can take them to the book.” Evan said. Rupert nodded. “We need to be ready for anything now.” “This is our night, bro,” Evan said, raising his impossibly thick arms into a double biceps pose. “We’ve still got some more growing to do. And nothing our uncle can do will stop it.” Rupert nodded and made a flex of his own. Their biceps were literally bigger than their heads. Indeed, every muscle on the twins was comically overdeveloped. So much blood had been spilt. So many lay dead, so that they could grow in size and strength, transcending humanity, becoming gods on earth. And still they hungered for more. They walked up the stairs, their huge bodies swaying heavily from side to side and every muscle fiber standing out in full relief beneath their paper-thin skin. With a hard look in their eyes and evil smiles on their faces, they entered the dark manor. “Hey pigs! We’re coming for you!” Evan shouted, his deep voice filling the quiet halls.
    1 point
  37. Chapter 7 Sean led the way, in search of the sadistic twins. His lover, Vincent was right behind him. Lerner and Davenport brought up the rear. Each man had his gun drawn and his head on a swivel. They had seen no signs of the twins yet, and Sean wondered if the other team was having any luck. “Do you believe what Patrick Glencross said,” Vincent asked. Sean stopped moving. He peered around the corner of the manor a looked toward the massive hedgerow that formed part of the maze. “A part of me does and another part of me thinks that part is stupid.” Vincent grinned. “Way I see it,” Sean said, “I’ll know the truth when I meet these assholes.” “The truth is Patrick Glencross is off his rocker,” Detective Lerner said, “And so are his nephews. The whole family needs to be locked up.” Sean looked back at the detective and shined his flashlight right on him. Despite the cool night air, his bald head was beaded with sweat. “You don’t look too good, detective.” “Who? Me?” Lerner said with mock shock. “I’m fucking copacetic.” He wiped his jacket sleeve across the top of his head. “Don’t shoot! I surrender!” Every gun, flashlight, and head turned to the right. “Jesus Christ! He’s bigger than you!” Vincent announced. Sean didn’t need to be told that. The man who walked out of the woods with his arms raised high was enormous. He was like one of those morphed pictures of bodybuilders online, come to life. The types of pictures Sean like to jerk off too. Patrick Glencross’ words were looking more and more plausible. All the protein, steroids, and lifting on earth, couldn’t make a 21-year-old that big. “My name is Evan Glencross! I surrender!” Said the hulking young man, while getting on his knees. “Lay flat on the ground! Slow!” Davenport shouted, moving toward him. The officers fanned out, eyes and weapons locked on the suspect. “You see the other one?” Sean asked. “No,” Vincent responded, scanning the tree line. “Hands behind your fucking back!” Davenport shouted, reaching down to cuff him. “Fuck! I gotta use the zip ties. He’s too big for the cuffs.” “He might be too big for the cruiser,” Vincent mumbled. Sean was taken aback by how small Davenport looked leaning over the nude mound of muscles. Evan’s arms were like his thighs. Once his wrists were bound Davenport allowed the suspect to get back on his knees. The young titan looked scared and his chest was heaving. Sean stepped closer. Vincent did so as well, but Det. Lerner stayed back, gun raised in trembling arms. “Where’s your brother!?” Sean shouted. “They got him!” “Who?” Sean shook his gun. “The others!” Evan spat. “The other cops. They followed us into one of the tunnels and shot him. I don’t know if he’s dead, but I ran. I didn’t want them to shoot me.” Evan’s eyes were shiny with tears and Sean didn’t buy a word of it. “We didn’t hear a gun shot.” Davenport said what Sean was thinking. “We were underground,” Evan said, then he smiled. It was as if he saw something that made him happy. Sean turned just in time to see Rupert Glencross grab Owen Lerner from behind. The towering muscle titan reached one arm around the detective and with the other, took control of the gun. Lerner screamed in agony, shooting off two aimless rounds, as his fingers were crushed into the metal of the firearm. Everyone’s attention was momentarily taken by the other brother, giving Evan the opportunity to leap to his feet and snap the zip ties like they were tissue paper. He grabbed a hold of Davenport, taking his gun and holding him tight against his thick chest. “Great performance Bro,” Rupert said, with an evil grin. “Oscar worthy.” “You two pigs drop your weapons,” Evan said. “Don’t do it!” Davenport shouted, before Evan shut his mouth with a huge hand. Sean and Vincent looked at each other. Sean contemplated trying his luck and opening fire. He might hit davenport, but he might not. Vincent dropped his gun, making the decision for him. Sean followed suit. “All your fucking weapons!” Said Evan. The officers threw down their tasers, pepper spray and night sticks. “You’re not going to get away with this,” Sean said. “Surrender and you might leave here in the back of a police car, instead of a body bag.” The twins laughed. “Don’t worry about us.” Rupert said. “Now you go stand against that wall over there.” He gestured with his head. Sean and Patrick slowly walked toward the outside wall of the manor. They stood with their backs pressed against it, facing the twins. Rupert moved over to his brother, with Owen’s feet dangling nearly a foot off the ground. “Bro do you smell that?” Rupert asked, with a humorous look of disgust. “I think the detective here pissed himself.” He let out a deep laugh. “What’s the matter, baldy, these muscles scare you?” Owen looked pale and ill, like he was close to passing out. “How do you think this is going to end?” Vincent whispered. “Not sure,” Sean replied. “We can run.” Vincent said. “I don’t think they’ll chase us.” “I’m not running, unless I have to.” Sean stared straight into the eyes of the twins and he swore he saw the devil staring back. Rupert let Owen’s feet touch the ground. He turned him around and said. “Lick my pecs, pig!” “N…n…no” Owen stuttered. Rupert slammed the detectives face into his iron chest so hard, Sean could hear the crunch of bone breaking. “Lick!” Owen began to lick his own blood off the mammoth pectorals. Rupert moaned pressing Owen’s face into his pecs, harder and harder. Sean was sure Owen was suffocating as his head went deep into the muscle cleavage. Rupert yanked so hard at one of the detective’s arms, he pulled it clean off. The loose appendage hung down, dangling like a pendulum in Lerner’s blood-soaked shirt. Any scream the victim might have made was muffled by the mounds of meat compressing his face. Rupert removed his hand from the detective’s head and began to flex harder, keeping the head in place with just his pecs. He squeezed and squeezed until Sean heard the crunch. He and Vincent looked on in horror and astonishment at Owen’s head cracked like an egg. A fountain of blood exploded from between Ruperts pecs. “Now would be a good time to run,” Vincent said. “No,” Sean said. He had to see what happened next. He had to see if it was true… Davenport’s eyes doubled in size as he looked on in fear, unable to scream or speak with the titan’s massive hand over his mouth. “Awesome bro,” Evan said. “That was a sick crunch, hahaa.” Owen’s lifeless body fell to the ground. Rupert shook as the blood that covered his torso disappeared, absorbed into his body. Sean stared intently, engrossed. Rupert moaned as his body swelled, stretching outward and upward. New veins pushed to the surface making his musculature look even more grotesquely over the top. He had definition in places Sean hadn’t thought possible. The muscles bulged, making the twin look like a mutated muscle freak created in some comic book villain’s lab. Even his already hard cock grew larger, reaching out before him, like another arm. “He…he grew!” Vincent said. “It’s true, holy shit, It’s true,” Sean mumbled. Evan held Davenport up with one hand. “Your turn!” Davenport kicked and punched as Evan used his free hand to rip his pants and underwear off. The muscle giant seemed to enjoy the officer’s blows. They probably felt like a light massage against his supernatural musculature. When davenport was naked Evan grabbed him by the waste and impaled his ass on his thick cock. Davenport screamed in agony as Evan pounded deeper and deeper into him. Sean could make out the impression of Evan’s cockhead on the inside of Davenport’s abdominal wall. It looked like a fist trying to punch its way out of his stomach. “He’s tearing him up from the inside,” Sean said with a grimace. “They’re distracted,” Vincent said. “Now would be a fucking good time to run.” Sean looked at the twins, one, too busy admiring his new size and the other too busy fucking, then looked at the pile of weapons. “Yeah, you’re right. And I know exactly where to run to.” He darted forward, making a beeline for his gun. Sean crouched down, his hand on the glock. He was certain he could kill these twin monsters. Two quick clean shots were all he needed. Pick up the gun, safety off, aim and… Rupert Glencross’ eyes met his. The muscle mutant kicked Owen’s body, lifting it off the ground like it weighed nothing. Sean had to move, or risk being hit. Behind him Vincent called out a warning. In front of him, he heard Evan’s moans of pleasure mixed with the sounds of Davenport’s hip bones cracking from the forceful fucking. He scurried back on all fours before stumbling to his feet. All he could think about was putting some distance between him and the twins and taking his shot from a safer vantage point, or maybe getting the gun in Vincent’s hands. His boyfriend was a better shot than he ever was. He was almost at the house when he felt something heavy strike his back. The ground rose to meet him, and he felt a splitting pain wrack his body when he struck it. Then the sound of a gunshot. But he hadn’t fired. “Who…?” *** “Fuck! I can’t believe we lost Carter.” Travis Purdie said, shaking his head. “The ground just opened up and took him.” He looked up to the sky. “God, if you let me survive this night, I swear I’ll never sin again.” “What sins have you committed?” Det. Jean Morgan asked. “That’s between me and God.” Patrick Glencross was staring at the maze, hands on his hips. “What are you thinking?” Jean asked him. “I’m trying to remember my childhood. I bet you’re thinking ‘you grew up in a place like this. How could you not remember every detail?’ Well, you’d be surprised just how much I worked to forget my childhood.” “Actually, I was thinking, how is your childhood going to help us?” Jean asked. “I’m trying to remember what tunnel Officer Carter was pulled into. We used to play in them as kids. Was it one of the tunnels that leads away from the maze or…?” Patrick turned to her, stroked his chin and narrowed his eyes. “It leads away. We need to get to the other side of the mansion. Follow me.” Patrick ran forward with Jean and Travis right behind him. BANG! BANG! They stopped when they heard two gunshots fired in quick succession. “Two shots! For two twins?” Travis said. “I hope that’s what it was,” Jean said, darting forward, gun in hand. “Oh God, please tell me they got the bastards.” Jean was now leading, running as fast as her legs could take her. When she came around the Mansion she could see the massive twins in the distance, a body on the ground, Davenport in distress, and Sean, running. It was hard to make sense of the pandemonium. She aimed her gun at the Twin holding Davenport and fired, hitting him in the shoulder. *** Rupert Glencross threw Owen Lerner’s body at the buff pig, knocking him down. Just then he heard the crack of a gunshot. His brother groaned in pain, dropping his human fuck toy. Rupert had to think fast. He dove for the pile of guns and took one. He opened fire in the direction the shot had come from, thankful that his father had taught him how to use a gun. The elder Glencross had said, “The hands are the only tools you need to snuff out a life, but a true killer should know how to use all of the instruments of death.” Fuck you father, he thought, but you were right. Rupert turned, grabbed his brother by the arm, and they dove into the woods. “Fuck!” Evan groaned, clutching his shoulder. His hand was red when he pulled it away from the wound. Rupert looked for an exit wound. When he saw it, he smiled. “It went in and out bro. you’ll be fine.” Evan’s body shook as a wave of growth overcame him. His groin and rock hard 14-inch fuck stick were covered in the cop’s blood. Slowly the red liquid was absorbed into his body. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he moaned as he swelled bigger. He squeezed his pecs, feeling them inflate in his hands. The bullet whole began to heal. When the growth ceased the wound looked like a shallow puncture wound. He looked at his bowling ball sized shoulder and ran a sausage sized finger across the wound. “One more kill, and I’ll be as good as new.” “We only have a couple of hours left, let’s make ‘em count,” Rupert said, holding his hand out. Evan took it and squeezed. “Damn right bro!,” Evan said. “These muscles are hungry for more growth.”
    1 point
  38. Chapter 6 Jean set off with her team, Travis, Patrick, and Carter, to comb the West side of the Estate. “Any ideas, Glencross?” Jean asked. “Where your nephews might be.” “No,” Patrick said. “But I’m sure they’ll be together. We find one, we find them both.” “Where’s the CSU guys?” Travis asked. “It’s awfully quiet.” THUD! The group turned, guns aimed in the direction of the noise. “The fuck was that!?” Carter exclaimed. Jeaned aimed a flashlight at the ground and frowned. A severed head stared blankly from the grass. “That’s our answer,” Jean said grimly, “for at least one of them.” She recognized the head, immediately, though battered, bruised, and bloody. Francis O’Connor, the crime scene investigator who had given her and Lerner the initial tour of the crime scene. “I’d say it came from the hedges over there,” Travis said. “That’s part of the maze, isn’t it?” “Those sadistic bastards. They’re toying with us,” said Patrick. “Trying to make us uneasy.” “If they’re in the maze, let’s go get them,” Carter said, stomping off in the direction of the hedges. “No!” Patrick shouted. “That’s what they’ll want you to do. The maze is their domain. We’re better off out here. Make them come to us.” “And wait around for someone else to die?” Carter said, backing away from the group, easing ever closer to the maze. “Fuck that! Travis, Jean, you’re with me, right? Or do you two want to stand around-” Carter’s words were cut short as the ground beneath him gave way. He fell into the hole, dropping his gun and screaming. Jean rushed forward, flanked by Patrick and Travis. “Carter!” she screamed as she watched her colleague clawing and grasping at the dirt and grass as some unseen force pulled him deep under. “What the-” Travis said, aiming his gun into the dark hole. “The tunnels from below the maze,” Patrick said. “They extend out beyond its perimeter. We need to back up. We’re too close.” Jean was crouched down, on all fours. She looked in to the tunnel. “I can’t see him!” “And you never will again,” Patrick said. He extended a hand and helped the detective to her feet. *** Carter groaned in agony as he was pulled through the dark tunnel. He blinked rapidly, trying to get the dirt from his eyes. “Fuuck!” he wailed. It felt like an iron vise had a hold of his ankles and someone was tightening the mouth. He thought his ankle bones would snap any second. Whatever, or whoever had him was strong as hell! “Perfect!” Carter heard a deep, booming voice say. “Now we’ve got some room to stretch out.” They had stopped moving and whatever had held him let go. Now Carter lay on the ground in the dark, scared to move. “Yeah, bro,” another equally deep voice said. “We’re getting way too big for these tunnels, hehee. Good thing for this opening.” A light flickered on and Carter got to see who he assumed were the Glencross twins for the first time. He had seen pro wrestlers, strongmen, bodybuilders, and football players in his life, but none of them compared to the two mammoth men standing before him. Their heads looked tiny on their oversized bodies; necks completely consumed buy mountainous traps; pecs so thick, he was sure they couldn’t look down and see their own cocks (as humungous as those rods were); arms that looked more like legs; and legs as thick as some men’s bodies. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Every inch of their nude, gargantuan frames was striated and covered with a grotesque network of bulging veins. They didn’t look human. They couldn’t be human. They were monsters. Muscle monsters. And they had sadistic looks of pure evil plastered across their hyper-masculine faces. “Hey officer PeeWee,” one of the monsters said. “Have you ever seen anything like us.” He flexed, exploding with size. His brother joined in. They grew hard as they grunted, showing off their unbelievable bodies. Each cock must have been over 14 inches. Carter felt his own cock rising, pitching a tent in his navy-blue pants. He was about to die. He knew it, but why was he getting hard, looking at this grotesque display of overdeveloped muscles? “We’re so fucking big,” one of the brothers said, “And when we kill you, we’ll get even bigger. Isn’t that amazing? We’re already probably, no, definitely, the most muscular men on the planet and we’re going to get even bigger! It makes me want to blow a fucking huge load.” “I think he can help with that, bro.” said the other brother, while stroking his long shaft. “Take this huge fucking cock!” one of the brothers commanded, and before Officer Carter could blink his head was grabbed by a massive bear paw of a hand and forced onto the beer can thick shaft of the hardest and longest cock in the world. He was forced to deep throat the colossal member with such speed and force that he felt something tear in the back of his throat. “Oooh, that feels so fucking good, the muscle giant said as he used Carter’s mouth like his own personal sex toy. He rammed Carter’s face into his pubic region with such force, his nose broke against the beast’s lower abs. Carter instinctively tried to resist, but striking his attacker’s body was like hitting a brick wall. He was powerless and weak, a mere toy for the sadistic pleasure of these psycho twins. “Give me a go!” Carter felt himself spun around and the other twin’s cock rammed into his mouth, his front teeth knocked out by the iron shaft. “Come on, take this cock pig!” His jaw was being dislocated, and his throat torn. Back and forth he went, being forced from one cock to the other, with such speed, that he got whiplash. He wondered if his neck would break before the muscle beasts blew their loads. Then, as if he had read his mind, one of the twins announced, “I’m getting ready to blow!” “Me too!” announced the other as Carter was spun from one blood and saliva covered cock to the other. Then he felt it. A blast of cum so forceful it might have blown his head back had the sadistic twin not been holding it in place. Carter gagged and choked, his lungs filling with cum and blood. When both brothers had filled him with what felt like a half gallon of cum, he fell back to the ground, suffocating, as the world went dark.
    1 point
  39. Part 4 Dave was sick to his stomach living out his worst nightmare, watching his father’s shit eating grin plastered across his face, grunting with pleasure as the growth hit him in full force. “Oh god tommy, is this what you felt Ungh-… feels like my whole body i-…. Fuuuuuuu. FEELS LIKE ITS CUMMING!” Their dad hunched over like he was in pain but was actually overwhelmed by the intense pleasure overtaking his body every inch of him felt as sensitive as his throbbing cock head that was already snaking its way down his shorts, sliding against his hairy thighs that were ballooning with size. Veins appearing across his body as the sounds of his clothes hanging on for dear life as they were stretched thinly across his body. Tommy watched mesmerized as his dad’s aptitude for the shake had already far surpassed that of his *gifted* brother, now joining him in the process of becoming something far greater than Dave could ever hope to achieve. He was getting so turned on by his dad that he absent mindedly took his own monster in hand jerking himself off. His cock shot out streams of pre as each individual button popped off their father’s shirt coating Dave in even more of his seed. “BRO that’s our dad, why are you jerking off right now!” “Have you seen our dad, Dave? He’s a fucking hunk, and now that he’s joining in on the fun, he’s going to be borderline irresistible. You’re just jealous that you can’t have all this.” Tommy flexes his arm making Dave pry his eyes away from his dad and his own enormous cock still leaking pre. Dave was shocked as his little brothers reserved self was slowly dissipating as he grew accustomed to his new size. “Count yourself lucky to even be close enough to be coated in my seed little bro. Fuck I haven’t even cum yet and your shirt is drenched in it. I bet you can’t even make as much as my pre with your small weak orgasms.” Almost as if hearing this turned their dad on even more, he let out guttural moans even stronger than his previous ones. Tommy looked down as Dave stared into his eyes, knowing he crossed a line that he could never have before, giving him a knowing look that said “I’m in charge now!”. Dave couldn’t even respond back to his god of a little brother, staying silent as his brother continued to enjoy the show that was their dad who was still hunched over in ecstasy. Their father then stood back up as his hands fell back bracing themselves against the wooden dining room table, his increased grip strength forming chips in the wood as he gritted his teeth sucking air between strongly as the veins spread to his bull neck. The collar of his shirt constricting his neck as it slowly rode up his torso revealing where his slight gut once was, now replaced with the ever-increasing definition of his slightly furry abs. The sleeves of his shirt were riding up his arms as they were pushed apart by his swelling biceps growing tighter by the second as they ripped at the seams the further up, they were pushed back. The growth slowly starting to subside as he was ready to burst out all his clothes. A sigh of relief came out of Dave as his father’s growth seemed to be slowing down, now having to deal with already being outgrown by both his brother and father. That was until Tommy decided he wasn’t done just yet, now approaching his dad “Come on dad I know you’ve got more in the tank, take a deep breathe and REALLY GROW!” Tommy said eager to spur their father on ever more. He did as he was told and braced himself further and he inhaled more than ever before in his life thanks to his greater lung capacity. As he did so Tommy took the opportunity to explore his bigger body and squeeze the throbbing bulge poking out from his dads’ shorts. On command their dads body convulsed as he moans uncontrollably, the biggest surge of growth hits his body, as he practically bursts clean out of all his clothes. Revealing a physique that Dave could only dream of every achieving. The growth of his height picking up speed as he steadily climbs up to 7’8 now a foot taller than even Tommy. Their father out of breath slowly regains his composure bracing against Tommy for support taking a few moments before looking down at Tommy and saying “Thanks sport” before giving his mammoth son a kiss. Dave watched in total shock as his dad and brother kiss, their perfect bodies bulging against each other looming over him like giants. But just as he felt his mind was ready to give in, the cum that had soaked him completely had been absorbing into his body. He felt a sudden arousal fill his body akin to the one he felt when he had first taken the shake. “HAHAH I’M FUCKING GROWING, I’M ACTUALLY GROWING” Dave was filled with hope ready to outgrow his “dweeb” of a brother and “washed up” old man, but as soon as he felt it enter, his body swelled again for a mere moment, before he embarrassingly came in seconds. His dad and little bro both looked down at him both almost laughing at him. “Sorry bro you’re just not cut out for this.” Tommy said before going back to kissing his godly father.
    1 point
  40. Part 3 After the last show of the day and me cleaning up, Bill gave me his address and told me to show up on Saturday afternoon. I arrived at the place around 1pm and knocked at the door. There was no answer, so reluctantly I tried the door and it was open. "Hello?" I called out. The place was pretty quiet but I could hear something coming from the basement. I closed the door and walked through the place slowly. It was a big house a ranch style with tall ceilings and open areas. Again, I could hear the sounds coming from the basement. I found the kitchen and a door that led downstairs. "Hello? Bill?" I called out from the top of the stairs. "That you, Dave?" a booming voice called back. "Yeah!" "Come on down, just working out a little." I went down the stairs into a wide open finished basement. There were weight racks and steel drums and old refrigerators and a lot of crushed metal in piles. I rounded a corner and there he was. He was sitting on a weight bench, twice the size of any bench I'd seen before (had to be to hold his massive weight). In his hands he was hefting two solid blocks of concrete with steel bars for grips. I just about lost it - each block had to be 3 feet square and weigh about 600lbs. He continued the curl the "dumbbells" for minutes, his straggly hair falling over his face and his mustache puffed out as he ground out rep after rep. Finally, he put the weights down. "That's a good little warm up," Bill said. "Good to see you, David. Come here." He was wearing a tight wife beater, half shredded from his bulk, the hair on his chest billowing over the top, and a pair of shorts far too small for his massive tree trunk thighs and giant cock that bulged obscenely. I moved closer and he pulled me in. I could smell his sweat - pungent and sexy and then he planted a deep kiss on me. "Get naked for me, son. Granddaddy needs some stimulation for the rest of this workout." I did as I was told and stood naked in front of this monster of a man. He gently caressed my body and put one thumb between my thighs and lifted me off the ground. I had to steady myself by grabbing his shoulders and hairy traps. "Yeah!" he hissed. "Good little boy pussy on you. You like that?" "Oh! Fuck yes!" I said. He put me down, stood up and moved across the room. There was a pile of I-beams. He grabbed one. "You ready for the rest of this?" "Yeah," I said almost holding my breath. "Alright. This is a steel I-beam. Got a deal with a construction site. They give me all I need. And I need a lot." He held the bar in front of him and started to squeeze the ends. I could hear the crunching steel as his massive hairy hands crushed the ends of the bar and then he started bending it. He poured his power into the steel I-beam and it bent like a twig in his massive hands. "YEAH!!! GRANDPA'S FUCKIN' MUSCLE!!! BENDING STEEL FOR YOU, SON!!" The he grabbed another two beams and held them both together and did the same thing. Here's this gigantic hairy old biker with the bristly mustache and sideburns bending construction beams like nothing! I was completely hard and leaking pre as I watched him. Then he took the three beams and put them over his head around his impossibly thick 30" neck and just stood there with his hands on his hips. Then he did the unthinkable. He started pouring more of his superhuman strength into his neck with the beams wrapped tightly around it. "MORE FUCKING POWER!!! AARRRGGGHHH!!! I'M A FUCKING MONSTER!! THIS AIN'T NOTHIN!!!" His face went red and his neck expanded and the beams started to expand out and with the power they started to snap. He was snapping steel beams with the power of his massive neck muscles. "YEAH!!!" he screamed as the parts fell to the floor. Then he hit a most muscular pose and his whole body shook as his massive 39" guns and 75" chest exploded and shredded the shirt. His cock started expanding and soon the shorts were shredded as well. There he was completely naked and bulging with massive power and size. His now 22" cock was hard as steel and bits of his sorts draped of it. He continued to pose and flex - double biceps, pec bounces, each fiber of hairy muscle undulating under his skin. Hairy forearms thicker than the hulks and hands so beefy and huge they could crush solid stone. He picked up a couple pieces of the broken beams and started smashing them against his cock, the metal not even moving the monster. "GRANDPA'S COCK IS STRONGER THAN FUCKING METAL!!!" He continued bashing at his cock, almost trying to torture it, but it was too fucking powerful. The metal just broke in pieces over the monster dong and his cock was still completely rock hard. After he was finished with the metal he said, "ONE MORE FUCKIN' TRICK, BEFORE I MAKE SWEET FUCKIN' LOVE TO THAT PUSSY, BOY!" He grabbed one of the refrigerators and held it in one hand. He pressed over head several times and then he smashed it onto his cock! The fridge was impaled on his massive pole. He hit a double bicep pose and flexed his cock with the fridge on it. Over and over he cock curled the fridge - over 300lbs on his massive fuck pole. "YEAH!!! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT!!! YOUR GRANDPA IS A TOTAL MAN!!! MORE MAN THAN ANYONE YOU'VE EVER SEEN!!!" He pulled the fridge off his cock and approached me. Leaning down he spiked his massive 86 year old muscle cock between my legs and lifted me up. Slowly he entered me, kissing me deeply to resolve the pain that this power pole was giving me. I was in total ecstacy! He lifted me up and down on his cock and then sat on the weight bench and continued using me as a fuck toy. "YEAH, BOY!!! GRANDPA'S FUCKING YOUR BOY PUSSY. YOU'RE MY PUSSY NOW!!" My hands roamed over his hairy pecs and his incredible biceps and forearms and he loved the attention. "FEEL ALL THAT MUSCLE, SON!! THAT'S ALL FOR YOU!! That's all it took. My cock started spewing over his thick hairy 8pack abs. "THAT'S IT! SHOOT YOU LOAD FOR GANDPA!! AAARRRGGGHHH!!!" He groaned and I could feel his hot load deep inside me. He stayed hard for a long time and just kissed me and felt my small body with his massive hands. Finally, he lifted me off his cock and just held me close. "Think this is the start of something, Son," he said. "I got a lot more to show you."
    1 point
  41. This an old and fave story that I finally found, I made some changes to the original (muscle granddad as opposed to 18 year old) and added a part two. Enjoy. FEATS OF MANHOOD By BrianWM (updated by elf1961) The title of the exhibit was as simple as it was enigmatic: "Feats of Manhood". I slipped into a seat towards the back of the small auditorium and waited for the show to begin. Looking around, I noted that the audience was exclusively male, waiting expectantly. An odd assortment of props was on the stage: a huge 60's era Cadillac convertible, a school bus, numerous large metal drums, and some weights. Soon the curtain in the middle of the stage opened and a figure stepped out. Extremely tall by any standards, approximately 6 feet 6 inches with a large white mustache and long, scraggly hair that was balding on top, with bushy 70s sideburns and thick glasses, I guessed he was probably about 70 years old and looked like just an elderly biker. The figure emerging appeared, if anything, extremely obese. He was dressed in an oversized tee-shirt with long loose sleeves that ballooned over a bulky torso. The initials "MM" were stenciled on the front. His lower half was encased in baggy sweat pants. "What an old slob," I said to myself, as I prepared to leave. What compelled me to remain was the only part of his body that was visible: a disproportionately thick neck, swelling out from his shirt making his head look almost tiny, stretching the fabric around the collar. The muscles on each side of his head were so thick they protruded out beyond his ears. "His collar size must be 30 inches!" I mused. The audience murmured and shifted in anticipation. The old man on stage grinned impishly and, his hand reaching up to his shirt collar, he started tearing it downward. What emerged made the audience gasp. Gruesomely huge hairy pectoral muscles, mounted on an enormous ribcage and sporting large red-purple tits, leaped out. He continued ripping the shirt downward, revealing not the expected distended flabby belly but a tight ripped abdomen with an impressive 8-pack of rippling muscles. He shrugged off the tattered remains of the shirt. Only then did the magnitude of his arms become apparent. Enormous biceps ballooned from all angles of his upper arm. His forearms were bulging hams already glistening with sweat. His lats flared wide, shoving his arms out and back. He paused, allowing the crowd to see and appreciate his physique. The monster grinned, struck a bicep pose, and started inflating his arm meat in short successive pumps. Gasps arose as the peak of his bicep rose and swelled in bursts. He then strutted over to a set of dumbbells, each loaded with 250 lbs, picked them up, and started effortlessly curling. His biceps continued swelling, with cruel looking veins as thick as fingers appearing encircling the swollen peaks. He threw the dumbbells aside and swaggered over to the Cadillac. The audience murmured as they realized what he intended. He stooped, grasped underneath the enormous car to find a grip, straightened up, and started curling the car! Up and down. Five, ten, twenty reps...His arms exploded with rippling, throbbing, pulsating movement as his arm meat feasted on the chunk of metal. His arms, now pumped to the max, were hard as concrete. I glanced at the men around me and noticed that a few had their hand on their hardening crotches, squeezing and rubbing their dicks in appreciation of the spectacle. The muscle man on stage threw down the car and struck a double bicep pose this time. The peak of his biceps now reached the palms of his hand, completely filling the space within his flexed arm. He grunted like an animal, beads of sweat appearing on his upper body. Then he pulled out a thick link chain. He casually wrapped it around his neck and padlocked it tightly at the front under his chin. The metal dug into his flesh and his face and neck started changing a dark purple as the blood flow was constricted. He paused for several seconds as his face grew darker and darker from the engorged blood. Then suddenly he flexed his neck and the chain broke, fragments flying in every direction. The audience roared. To pump his pecs the giant got on his back and slid under the Caddy. The car lifted up slowly as he started bench pressing it. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Twenty reps. Then with a loud roar he flung it up and off to the back of the stage where it toppled over on its side. The man, now a monster bursting with engorged muscles, rose to his feet and flexed his chest toward the audience. The pecs had metamorphosed into huge slabs of throbbing man meat, completely filling the space between his bent flexed arms. The pecs stood 6 inches thick off his ribcage, rising on each side of his chin. His cleavage could envelop your entire erect cock. (Which, indeed, I fantasized, sliding my now-hard dick up and down between his warm, sweaty pecs.) As if reading my mind, this testosterone-drunk stud picked up a 45 lb plate, slid it between his mountains of pec meat, and flexed again. The plate held, suspended between his rock hard pecs. Up until now he had kept his sweatpants on. Large patches of sweat had appeared around his crotch during his physical feats. He reached down and loosened the drawstring. The significant bulge in front kept the pants from sliding down until he yanked them off, stepped out of them, and kicked them aside. Another gasp from the crowd arose and two men fainted. The impact of his gruesome, gargantuan thighs packed with enormous slabs of muscle was almost lost as we took in the visual impact of the inhuman mass mounted between them. Under his sweatpants were black posing trunks, stretched tightly over his round, muscular butt and straining to envelope a set of male sex equipment the size and weight of a bowling ball, drooping down almost to his knees. He turned sideways and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, proudly displaying his colossal manhood. More cries of lust from the whacked-out audience. The side view of his pecs was awesome: the tight pumped chest muscles were like hard rubber jutting up and out, so solid they hardly moved. As this muscular beast had bit by bit revealed his unbelievable body parts I had endeavored to estimate his massive measurements: neck 30 inches, shoulder girth 80 inches, chest 75 inches, biceps (pumped) 37 inches, waist 38 inches. My senses were already reeling as I now absorbed his lower build. His thighs must be in excess of 40 inches cold, deeply striated, so heavily packed with muscle that that seemed to sag around his knees. Shit! Thighs so much thicker than his waist were mind-numbing. Overall, this destroyer must weigh between 350 and 400 pounds. God only knew the dimensions of the cruel-looking equipment between his legs. I reasoned that the "MM" on his ill-fated tee-shirt must mean Muscle Man, Monster Male, Muscle Monster, or some such combination. Then as he stood there he started flexing his legs, squeezing the blood into those hypertrophic slabs. The already unbelievable mass of his tree-trunk thighs started growing and thickening before our eyes as he continued squeezing his leg beef. The slabs of muscle grew outward and lifted upward until they had nowhere to go, seemingly reaching 50 inches in girth. The guy was so packed he could not keep his legs together; instead, he had to straddle them outward, hisfeet about a yard apart. He turned sideways again. His man tools, still tenuously encased in the stretched, straining fabric of his jock sling, were lifted high by the swelling of his thighs. The monster stud grinned at the audience and jerked his crotch upward in a series of seductive thrusts. The heavy sperm-packed balls bounced off his tight thighs. Several men, who by nowhad their cocks out of their pants and were desperately whacking off, lost their load at this incredible sight. I felt my own pre-cum wet against my skin. The show didn't end here. The muscle master, by now totally pumped to superhuman size and girth, swaggered over to the row of metal drums, lying on their side. He straddled the first one with his military thighs and squeezed. The metal drum groaned, deformed, and collapsed like cardboard. A squirt of something hot and sticky hit me on the back of the neck as the guy behind me shot his load, muttering "Fuck, oh bloody fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" Others came too and one could see streams of man-juice leaping into the air from the sensory-overloaded men, who were groaning and yelling at the spectacle. The human trash compactor on stage mounted each metal drum in turn and one by one they were reduced to pathetic piles of crumpled tin foil. The last one he lifted and held it between the palms of his hands parallel to his chest. Suddenly contracting his mighty pec muscles he squeezed and within seconds the drum was flattened. Roars from the crowd rose. The floor of the small auditorium was becoming slippery with the quarts of cum shot from the male audience members, wild with desire. A group of men had congregated towards the front, reaching on-stage in worship of the incredible muscle man, begging him to take them, fuck them, piss on them, degrade them. Some were drooling, others had fainted. One more feat of manhood awaited. The school bus. None of us in our wildest dreams could envision what was about to happen. The Muscle God, now sweating and pulsing with distended veins and pumped body parts, parading His male ego like the Stud he was, strode aggressively up to the bus as if He were going to fuck it into oblivion. He climbed on top of the vehicle and straddled it with His legs, anchoring His heals on the ridge line of the roof. Gasps of disbelief arose as His intent became clear. Like a demolition machine, this arrogant Power God was going to crush thes huge vehicle between His legs. He took a huge deep breath, His enormous rib cage expanding, and started squeezing. His face and neck slowly became blotchy and purple at the enormous exertion. Cords of muscle and tendon rose in his neck as he flexed his mountainous thighs. His entire body quivered as he focused his strength on the metallic destruction between his legs. His straining neck was now a behemoth column of purple, pulsating distended flesh. The leg muscles grew, convulsed, and strained. For a while nothing happened. He groaned, sweat streaming over His convulsing body in this improbable battle of monster muscle versus manmade object. His legs made jerking movements as they strained against the stubborn sheet metal. Then a sound was heard: a whining screech of fatigued metal slowly increasing in intensity. The audience waited, breathless. The Muscle God was screaming in agony as His muscles ached and bled. Then a crash was heard as the windshield of the bus imploded. The cabin of the bus was being crushed! Crash after crash was heard as each side window succumbed to the deformation. More and more men ejaculated high into the air as their torqued male frenzy escalated. The Muscle God continued squeezing and screaming and sweating. Another visible change was occurring. The massive man-bulge mounted between the legs of the Stallion was convulsing and growing. The blood that was rushing to His straining thighs was also pouring into His enormous sex tools. A shaft the thickness of His massive forearms started lifting up, straining the already weakened fabric of his skimpy posing trunks. The heavy melon-sized balls were pulsing and swelling, pumping out superhuman quantities of testosterone as they prepared to discharge their load. With a snap the black posing trunks exploded from the overwhelming volume of his sex tools, the thick tall shaft of man flesh continuing to rise upwards. Several in the audience screamed. The dark purple head of the superhuman man pole was enormous - no human mouth could accommodateits bulk. The thickly veined shaft continued expanding until the cock head was level with His pecs. As His prick swayed back and forth during his continuing exertion, pre-cum from His sperm factory was smeared across His chest. With a load crash the top of the school bus finally surrendered to the muscular persuasion of this determined Superman. With a final roar of agony and triumph His thighs slammed together, crumpling the sheet metal between his knees. Simultaneously the slit of His swollen throbbing cock head dilated and a thick volley of man juice shot up, slapping the ceiling of the auditorium with globs of sperm. As he continued compressing the rubble between his beastly thighs, stream after stream emerged from the amazing reservoir of this superhuman fuck factory, enough man seed to repopulate the planet. The stage was soon awash in sticky, milky cum. I might have blacked out momentarily at this incredible spectacle. My mind was reeling from this incredible display of hypermascularity. My unbelieving eyes feasted on a 18 or 19 inch man tool. What would it be like to have sex with this God,to have those mighty thighs and arms wrapped around you? Would his fist-sized cock head break your jaw? Would one strangle from the onslaught of cum pumping down your throat and into your stomach? How would it feel being impaled on that thick prick pole; would it tear a person open? The Muscle God jumping down from the crushed bus. With a final act of contempt toward the crippled object, he swaggered over to the door of the vehicle and, with bare hands and barely an effort, ripped it off its hinges. The audience was now gasping on complete overload. He held the sides of the door between the palms of his hands like an accordion and squeezed. The door immediately crumpled into debris and simultaneously another thick glob of cum shot from his still-throbbing manhood. He tossed the scrap metal aside. Finally, triumphantly strutting out to the edge of the stage, this untiring Sex Stud starting to beat His meat out toward the audience. His shaft was so incredibly thick that He used both hands in unison, stroking up and down. Despite the huge volume of cum already expelled, His elephant bull balls rose to the occasion yet again. He flexed every muscle in His body, His chest expanded, His diaphragm rose, His abdomen hardened, and with a yelp of pleasure and triumph, the slit of His prick head opened wide, and a thick stream of hot milky liquid shot out over the eager audience. For several seconds jet after jet bathed the men's faces. Then He was gone and it was over. Part 2 (elf's part) After that show I was determined to see this behemoth of a man up close. As people were leaving the theater and the stage crew were getting rid of the mangled bus and repositioning the caddy, I snuck backstage. "You the new towel boy?" a guy asked me. "Um - yeah. Just started," I said. "Here," the guy said tossing me an armload of towels. "He's downstairs. Next show's in 30 minutes, go get him ready." "And he's downstairs?" I asked. "Yeah, after the green room is the dressing room." I wandered down the stairs and through the green room to find the dressing room. I knocked. "Come in," came a deep voice. I opened the door and there he was sitting completely naked in a chair that barely contained his bulk. Up closer I could see the crow's feet around his eyes and he was covered in sweat from the incredible workout he'd just done. "You here to stare, or are you gonna' towel me off, boy?" he asked. "I'm here to help you get ready for the next show. I'll towel you off." I put the towels on a shelf and briefly looked around. There was a big mirror and weights like I'd never seen before - massive dumbbells that looked around 500lbs each. I grabbed a towel and started working on his massive frame, first rubbing down his massive hairy pecs and bowling ball sized shoulders. He just let his head fall back and sighed as I dried the sweat, the man musk filling my nostrils and I could feel my cock getting hard. I moved down to his huge biceps. "Damn!" I said. "You are huge. How big are your arms?" He lifted a bicep and flexed it. "I dunno - probably about 32" maybe more. Not bad for 86, huh?" "Shit! Most 20 year olds aren't as huge as you are." He smiled. "You like all this mass and size? You liked that show - 'cause that ain't nothin'" I gulped but continued drying him. He kept the massive 32" arm flexed while I dried it off, making sure I got into his hairy pits. His cock started to pulse. I noticed that. "Better stand up so you can really dry me off," he said getting off the chair. The man was tall, really tall. Where I thought maybe 6'6", he was more like 6'8" and had to weigh close to 600lbs. My cock was rock hard now, but I continued to dry him off. His whole body was covered with fine grey hair and those massive pecs were covered with thick hair - I wanted to grab a handful of it, but I kept to my job. His cock was hanging a good 13" down and was slowly stiffening. "Geez, boy! You got great hands! You're getting this old man worked up." "Sorry, sir," I said. "Name's Bill," he said. "I'm David." "Mmm. Good to meet you. Haven't had a good towel boy like you in years. So you into huge guys? Huge powerful men?" "Uh - yeah," I said. "And you are the biggest most powerful man I've ever seen. I can't believe you're 86!" Bill smiled. "You wanna fluff me before the next show?" "Geez! Yeah!" "Then get yourself naked for me and let's get it going." I undressed and stood on front of him, my 7"cock showing my interest. He grabbed it in one huge hairy hand and squeezed lightly. "Nice," he said. The he grabbed a couple of those massive dumbbells and started curling. "Now work on mine." I started stroking his cock while he pumped his massive hairy arms. The weight of his cock was incredible and my hand wouldn't go around it. I had to use two hands and I stroked his length feeling it grow bigger and thicker and stronger. Every now and then I'd reach up and feel his biceps as he was pumping them bigger and bigger and feel his massive thick pecs that jutted out at least 7" from his 8 pack hairy abs. His straggly hair fell into his face as he leaned forward, curling the weights and watching his arms explode with dense muscle. I went back to his cock and it continued to grow until it was at least 19" long and thicker than a coffee can. He dropped the weights and stood closely over me. He leaned down and kissed me, his bristly mustache all over my lips. "You wanna see what this old muscle man can do?" I sighed. "Yeah." "It'll ruin you for other men. You won't want another man, not matter how big after this. Are you ready?" "Yes." Bill sat back down in his chair. "Watch this. I don't do this in the show. This is special for you." He started tensing his body. His pecs rolled and flexed one by one and then at the same time. He raised his arms in a double bi pose and they were at least 35" now. The he started flexing his cock. He had total control over all his muscle including his cock. He flexed it up against his pecs and the down to his knees. His bull balls were contracting at his will. He poured more power into his cock. "More!" he said. "MORE FUCKING COCK!!! MORE FUCKING POWER!!!" I watched as his cock extended. 19" - 20" - 22" and then a massive 24" "YEAH!!! THAT'S A FUCKING MUSCLE COCK!!! Gimme those chains over there." I grabbed the chains off a shelf and handed to the giant. He wrapped them around his massively powerful pole and then started flexing it again, but this time he poured his superhuman strength in the thickness of the monster. His face went red and his 30" neck thickened as his cock expanded and I could hear the sound of metal creaking. Link by link the chains started snapping off the monster muscle pole of manhood! "OH! YEAH!!!" He bellowed as the last strands of chain fell from his monster. "NOW, STRADDLE THAT COCK, BOY! SIT ON THE HEAD OF THAT MONSTER!!!" I sat my ass down on the cock and he effortlessly lifted me up and down with the power of that cock. Then he stood up and kept flexing his cock, grabbing the weights again and pumping his arms even more. My hands were all over the older muscle giant feeling his pecs his expanding biceps and all the time riding that monster cock. I twitched my asshole against the head of his cock and he looked at me and groaned. "Yeah! My boy likes that cock. And your grandpa likes what you just did, Do it again." I flexed my ass against the giant manpole and he groaned even more. "You're gonna feel this old man inside you, boy!" He picked me up in one massive hand and held me over the tip of his cock. "Gotta fuck that boy pussy!" He slowly lowered me onto his massive rod and while the pain at first was incredible, he was gentle and slowly entered me. Soon I was fully impaled on the monster and flexed his massive 36" biceps and hung on while I pumped myself up and down on his muscle cock. "FEEL YOUR GIANT HAIRY GRANDPA IN YOUR PUSSY!!!" He kissed me deeply as he fucked me and soon he started growling and I knew he was going to cum. He flexed his cock one more time and then shot deep inside me and I came instantly on his thick hairy abs. He stood there for a few minutes, still rock hard and then finally lifted me off his cock. "Better clean me up again, son," he said. "Next show's in a few minutes." "Yes, Sir!" I said and started to work. He pulled on his oversized clothes and just before he left the room, turned to me and said. "You better be here when I get back. We're just getting started
    1 point
  42. On that note, you wouldn’t happen to know where the rest of the “Tony vs” series can be found, would you? Those stories are hot af, but there’s definitely chapters missing
    1 point
  43. Wow so happy to have found this club. I am actually the original moderator of the snufflover page as well as the yahoo group when they existed. I was bummed when geocities went away, so my page went away. I’m so happy to see so many others still into it
    1 point
  44. Hi, this will be my first story posted on here, this is my story called 'A Thing Called Curiosity' which i had originally posted on metabods.com a couple of years ago It involves forced muscle growth and absorption, the story also contains a few images in order to help with the visualisation, please tell me if the images add or take away from the story. I hope you guys like it and any feedback would be appreciated! - A Thing Called Curiosity - It was a late Autumn day, and it was a particularly cool day, about 27 degrees Celsius, and quite dry wind a lot of wind so it felt like 24 degrees, Cameron liked going out on jogs in the morning, and it was a perfect day for it with this nice cool weather, so he put on a hoodie and just compression shorts and headed out, since it was still 4am he guessed there wouldn’t be many people on the street so he could wear whatever he wanted, especially on a holiday and in the weekend, everyone would be sleeping in anyways. Cameron was a 19 year old young man from a town called Citadel in the Kingdom of Two Suns, it was a very small country, only about 150.000 inhabitants, and it was a generally hot and a very humid place since it was an island surrounded by water, but during the Autumn and Winter seasons it would rain a great amount and it would make the island a generally quite cool place. Cameron was still in High School, he was an average boy in every sense, average grades, average at sports, had normal friends, but he was quite a handsome lad, he was mixed race from having both side of the mother and father coming from already mixed lineages, which gave him a very unique look, he looked Iranian but with golden tanned skin, jet black semi-wavy hair, great eyebrows and grey coloured eyes, he had those naturally pink full lips. He had no facial hair whatsoever, but he did have medium/long hair with a slight wave, it was jet black but with a few patches that grew brown naturally and he kept it in a simple pompadour hairstyle, he also had a generally hairy body, but it looked good, he had long thin soft jet black hairs on his arms and between his pecs, the rest of his pecs were hairless naturally, he also has a treasure trail that started just above belly button and went down to his crotch, and his legs were covered with long semi-wavy long black hair that was thicker on the lower legs and thinned out as it went up to the crotch area. His body was athletic, nothing too special but he certainly didn’t need it, he was tone and was 175cm tall (5’7”) and weighed a decent 68,9kg (152lbs) so he was quite the eye candy but he was humble so he never became the arrogant type of dreamboat in High School although it didn’t stop girls (and a few guys) from wanting him. One thing he was always fascinated by were the physique of world class body builders though, he wanted to be one, or meet one and be able to touch those incredible muscles but he didn’t know why, he didn’t have a particular desire to be one except he just felt like he needed to, but with school, family, job and etc. he didn’t have the luxury to invest time in body building, besides he was content with body as it was, or so he told himself, with the images of body builder physiques always in the back of his mind at all times. Back on the jog, it was 4:59am, you could barely start seeing the sky on the horizon turning orange/red as the sunrise was approaching, he had been jogging for almost an hour, when he decided it was time to start heading back, he quite sweaty and his hoodie and compression shorts were soaked, so he decided to take off the hoodie to try and dry off a bit. He decided to take a short cut through the wilderness, he was by the beach and going up back through the jogging path would take too long, so he just cut through the wood to get home faster. As he was walking through the plants after about 20 minutes the sun was almost out and the light made everything much clearer when he noticed a tiled rooftop over the plants to his right, he was a curious boy who liked exploring so he couldn’t resist and decided to go check out the old building. As he approached the little house he could clearly see it was 17th century house, Citadel had many old colonial buildings and some smaller ruins were still in the wild lost and forgotten to time, but this one seemed in decent shape but the doorway was bricked up. “Strange,” he thought, “if it’s bricked up, then someone used it not too long ago.” That only sparked his curiosity even more, so he looked for a way in, the windows were also sealed shut except for one where it seemed to have given away, so jumped on the ledge and then stepped inside the little house. It was dusty and smelled like it had been closed off for a while but with the little light that entered through the window he could see a bit of furniture, and a bookcase filled with books, he saw a kitchen but not pans and dishes but beakers, so he thought, “Maybe a doctor lived here.” It certainly looked old, at least 30 years, so he grabbed one of the books from the bookshelf, and read, it was about genes, hormones, tissue transplants and drugs. “Hmm, it seems more like a biochemist then a medical doctor,” he thought to himself when he heard some creaking and the rotted old bookcase he took the book from sank into the floor on the right side, it surprised him since the floor seemed like it was made from concrete covered with tiles, but he noticed that only under the bookcase it was a wooden plank floor “so there’s something more under the house?” again curiosity got the best of Cameron and pulled the bookshelf out the hole and moved it to one side. “If i take out 3 more planks I should be able to fit through there,” he thought to himself as he shined a light from his phone down the hole. After taking out the needed planks before he jumped in the whole he heard some voices, it were people and they were near, he didn’t want someone to find him and ruin his fun since he doubted he should be in the, so he jumped in the hole where a staircase awaited him to his surprise, he shined with phone and the staircase seemed to go down a few more steps, he couldn’t see far since the phone’s screen isn’t as bright as a flashlight would be, then he turned back and peaked out the hole and he heard the voices of the other morning joggers and decided to just drag the small cabinet against the wall over the hole, the cabinet was bigger and hid the entire hole so if someone also got curious of the house they wouldn’t find this secret passageway. He then turned his attention to where he was, it seemed the little house had a basement, so he walked down the stairs, it was about 16 steps which lead him to steal door. “This door doesn’t look 30 years old, it’s dusty but must be 15 years old at best,” he said out loud as he examined the door with his phone. “The plot thickens,” he said as he found the 2 latches that held the door closed, he pulled one back and then the other, and he opened the door so a very dark room, the room felt hot, about 29 degrees but very humid so it felt like 31 degrees or a summer day. “Good thing I took off my hoodie,” he said. He couldn’t see anything and he guessed the room was quite expansive since he couldn’t shine at anything with lights except an industrial looking steel pathway that lead forwards, so he touched around the sides of the door looking for a switch but couldn’t find one, so he decided to walk forward on the pathway, albeit carefully, which after a few steps he found a stand with switches on it from what he could make out and he could barely see something a little more ahead, so he went for and said, “What the hell, hope this is it,” and flicked 1 switch then the second one, and third, and fourth and fifth switches up, he heard the flicker of an old light then one grid of lights from behind him turned on then another over his head and so on towards the front, and he saw what he had discovered. “this is incredible!” he yelled out with a grin on his face. The lights showed the pathway that lead to a central octagonal shaped part which looked like a research or control station for something, and there was a bundle of pipes that lead to it and then a huge amount of different wires and pipes then lead out of it so another part further in front which he could somewhat see but it was still in the only dark part of the room. He walked over to the control station where there was a ring of monitors that turned on in the inner circumference of the octagon, and in the middle and tower where all the pipes and wires lead in and the back out. The screens slowly booted up one by one. He looked at the largest monitor and saw different buttons and controls. “I guess this one controls other things,” and he looked at one that read ‘illuminate tanks’ he couldn’t guess what that could mean so he pressed it because the only places still needing illumination was the dark unclear part further back from the octagon. What he saw made his jaw drop, it was an area a staircase down from the octagonal platform where he was standing, and there is where he saw 5 large glass vessels filled with a transparent liquid, they were each illuminated by individual internal lights and a central large overhead lighting system over the central floor area with the glass vessels in a circular array around it. But the truly shocking thing he saw was the contents of the glass vessels, it was 5 enormous men, it was 5 men with the physiques he always admired and craved, it was 5 body builders with incredible muscle size, one in each tank. Cameron was awestruck and walked down the steel stairs that lead to the tank area, he managed to get his head to come back to earth as he started to analyse the area where the tanks were situated. There were large wire bundles and various tubes that lead from the control platform over to the tank are which split overhead and came down over each of tanks. “I guess they feed power and that liquid to the tanks and I guess transport information to, and from the tanks to the computers up there,” he said speaking out loud. But there were other wires and tubes that lead other places, like from each of the tanks a tube went overhead and converged into a single pipeline which lead overhead to the middle of the area and then had a different tube that came down and it had an oddly shaped nozzle. There were also tubes that come from under the floor and up to 2 stands, one had 1 tube and the other held 2 tubes about 3meters (10ft) apart from each other and in between them on the floor there was a part of the floor made from metal and was an odd shape, kind of like the silhouette of a dolphin seen from above or the reclining dentist chairs but this was just flat so just the contour. And there were 3 little openings on the metal plate on the floor, one at the top, and two, one on each side about halfway down. His attention shifted to the men in the tanks so he approached the first one to the right, he read what a plate on the glass read “Subject number 5  –  NEN code: 300977  –  Height: 179cm (5’10”  –  Weight: 106,2kg (234lbs)  –  BF percentage: 11%  –  Age: 31” “Wow that is enormous, and so heavy.” Cameron found it even more appealing when a body builder wasn’t just big but also quite heavy for their size. He further examined the man in the tank, he was naked and suspended in the liquid in a limp posture like he was just floating under water, and he had two tubes probing his body, a thin one went inside his mouth which he guess provided life support, a very large one just laid on the bottom of the tank, and there was one that came down his back and went into his anus, the tube was transparent and rather thick, the diameter must have been about 4cm (1.5inches) or 14cm circumference (5inches), Cameron didn’t know why but looking at the huge pipe enter the body builder anus made him feel warmer and his heart started racing, and he also got quite the hard on and since he was wear compression shorts, the hard on was quite evident, Cameron never really felt any attraction to other men, but then again not much towards a woman either, the only that made his heart race was thinking about muscled physiques, he confused as to what he was feeling and how to interpret it but one he was sure about is that he liked it. Still with a hard on Cameron looked around him to see that all the men also had the same tubes probing them in them in the same places and the one at the bottom of the tanks, and all of them had information plates describing their weight, age, size etc. He really wanted to know what this place was so turned around and went back up the stairs to the control platform. He researched and looked, he went to books, papers and file after file on the monitors, he saw formulas, designs for machines, plans, schematics, theories and read document after document. He figured out that this place was built by a doctor L. J. Andrews privately and he was obsessed with ever larger muscular physiques, and he was designing a machine that could take muscles from one person and give it to another person, namely himself, and he went through a lot of research and development to design the method to achieve his goal, but ultimately although he finished successfully his research a couple of years ago he had to abandon it, even though the machine and formulas were done and correct, and he had “acquired” the donators for the muscle (acquired here meaning he kidnapped the 5 body builders) there was a major downside to the experiment, no matter how much he crunched the data and recalculated, there was only a 0.7% chance a subject could survive the muscle impregnation “there is less then 1% chance of survival?” Cameron muttered, a chill running down his spine. “There is more than 99% chance of dying if someone used this machine, no wonder the doctor abandoned it, I guess I should leave this buried away as I found it.” With that Cameron decided to leave that place. As he put the books and papers back into their places and closed the files on the various monitors, as he was closing the last file on the monitor next to the staircase that lead to down to the tanks, he accidently opened a control panel as he looked down at the tanks and pondered what it would be like to have a physique like that. Then as he was turning around he slipped on a patch of grease on the floor that he didn’t notice before, lunged his had forward to grab anything to keep him from falling down the stair, and he grabbed the screen he was working on but his hand slipped off of it and he tumbled down the stairs and rolled onto the floor below, he was dazed and disoriented from the bumps his head took and he didn’t notice he was laid out over the metal plate on the floor, as he was recollecting his thoughts and trying to figure out what happen he heard an audible *beep* and he felt a cold band stretch over his forehead and adjust tightly, he didn’t understand what was happening, suddenly two other cold bands also stretched over both his wrists and tightening down holding his arms in place just as the forehead band held his head down. As this was happening he finally came back to his senses, and then it hit him “fuck!! I must have pressed something when I grabbed the monitor!!”. He realised he might have turned on the machine with a less then 1% survival rate, and now he was stuck in it with no way to escaped! As he came to this morbid conclusion he felt something else happening which he directed his attention to. The plate on the floor he was strapped to started rising from the ground, it stopped at about 1m (about 3ft) above the floor, then one of the two tubes in the direction his feet were, started moving, it was the slender tube and it had a needle attachment, Cameron was scared but there was nothing he could do, he struggled and struggle and fought with the bands restraining him as the needle got closer to his body, but they wouldn’t come loose, so he had no choice but to resign himself to the situation and hope that he somehow makes it out alive as he laid on the cold examination table-like thing he was strapped to. The tube and needle reached up to about halfway to the side of his right thigh and pricked him and inject a small amount of a liquid with a blue hue to it and then receded back to its original position, the prick didn’t hurt too much and he was feeling drowsy or drugged Cameron wondered “well what is it going to do?” just as he finished that sentenced he felt the bands on wrists and head loosen up, and then they receded as well into the table. “Maybe the process takes place in stages, maybe I’ll be okay if I leave right now,” but after saying that and trying to get off the table he found himself unable to move his limbs. “What the fuck is going on here? Move. Move!” he yelled at his body but it didn’t he could only move his neck freely, his extremities seem to have been numbed by the injection, they felt normal in every way except they felt incredibly weak, like when your muscles are fatigued after you have worked them out extensively and you can’t even lift them up afterwards, that’s how they felt, and so he started worrying again and he remembered. “I forsake myself to it, guess I was just too happy that it stopped but I guess it’s not done yet with me yet,” he laid there for about a minute before something else happened. The second tube that was next to the one with the needle started moving, it was a much bigger tube, it was a dark grey colour, and it was as thick as the ones in the tanks that went in the anus of the body builders, and it had a strange attachment, and as it got closer he could make out what that attachment was, it was in the shape of a penis head, and the rest of the tube was ribbed with lines and bumps, making the whole length of the tube resemble the shaft of a penis, as it got closer to his body Cameron felt the table shifting, it moved his legs up from under the calves, into a position that resemble the position of sitting on a chair but on his back, and he realised the tube really was meant for his anus, he was scared just like before for the needle but a little voice in the back of his mind told him he wanted to try and know what it felt like, and his penis became erect in a second as he remembered what he felt when he saw it inside the bodybuilder, he was afraid but he wanted to feel it, the desire to experience it grew and grew, and before he knew he felt the cold tube shaped like a penis touch the outside of his anus, it was cold and sent shivers down his body. When the tube reached the outside of the anus it secreted a little bit of liquid that felt like gel so Cameron assumed it was lubrication, and then it really started, the machine started apply more pressure to open up the sphincter muscle, and it did, it finally reached the point where the anus couldn’t stay closed and the head popped right in and Cameron felt like something he never knew he could feel, it hurt a lot as it worked its way inside but it felt so good at the same time, it pried open his hole because of how wide the tube was but Cameron was enjoying and for a moment even thought, “Maybe this isn’t so bad,” a thought that quickly vanished as he felt the tube go deeper and deeper, it only hurt at the anus but he certainly felt it in his insides as it straightened the curves in his colon onto it until he was shocked to see it start to show as it protruded through his abs, and it protruded more and more till it finally stopped, it was pushing out onto his skin a full inch if not a little bit more, it didn’t hurt or feel like it hurt him in any ways but it was very incredible, Cameron sighed a sigh of relief since he thought the worst was over, but how wrong he was. A few minutes went by and nothing happened, but then out of nowhere he heard a machine start to make sound, it sounded like a pump to be exact, and he felt a little vibration inside from the tube he had in his abdomen, he knew something else was going to happen. And that’s when it really started. He saw body builder number 2 to his left side twitch slightly, and then the calf of the man suddenly shrunk down to just skin and bones! He gasped, it was unbelievable, the man’s huge left calf muscle, which looked to be at least 54cm (21inches) suddenly deflated, but then he noticed the tube that went into the man’s anus engorge at the anus, it was carrying a lump and transported it up until he couldn’t see it anymore, after a few seconds suddenly a lump appeared at the base of the tube that went inside Cameron “what is that?….” he thought to himself and the lump moved up the tube and it went inside him and he saw it then come the head that he could clearly see through his abdomen and the lump moved down his left leg and where his calf was and then suddenly engorged to four times the size of the lump in an very painful wave which made him cringe but he noticed suddenly he had developed calves that were about 41cm big (6 inches) and that’s when it hit him, the lump was the man’s calf and it transported it to his own body, albeit some of the size is lost in the process, then he noticed 4 other lumps consecutively show up moving up the tube and into his ass, which aroused him more as each one penetrated him, then he saw them come out the head of the tube into his abdomen and he watched as they started moving towards his left leg again under his skin, when he raised his head and looked at the legs of the other body builders he noticed they had all lost all the muscle mass in their left lower legs, and when he turned his view back to his left leg it was just as the 4 lumps merged and with a wave of pain started fusing and becoming his own muscle, the pain was like that of having a bone broken but localised to where the muscle was being absorbed only while at the same time feeling like having multiple orgasms one after another. It made Cameron grind his teeth and arch back with a tear flowing out of his eye, and his cock so hard and going wild ripped right through his compression shorts to full mast! And as the wave of pain and arousal subsided after about 6 seconds (the longest of his entire life) he was left breathing heavily and sweating profusely, then he looked down to be amazed at what happened, there was his left lower leg, with a 76cm (30inch) mass of muscle, he was amazed, awestruck by the sheer size, the striated muscle fibres visible through the skin, and the large bulging pumped up veins that covered it, it made his cock rage like a wild animal. It was beautiful. But as he was preoccupied admiring the beauty that had become part of his body the machine seemed to pick up the pace and started working faster. The sound of the machine working faster finally got Cam’s attention, as he looked up at the men he saw body builder 1 through 4 had deflated left upper legs, and as he reached body builder 5 he saw his left upper leg suddenly deflate too, all his thigh muscles just disappeared and he noticed the lump again exit his body through the tube, then he saw it start happening to the man’s right lower leg, then upper leg, and as he turned around it had happened to the other men as well, he knew what was coming next and he feared it yet desperately wanted to go through with it, the voice in his head that told him he wanted it had grown louder and louder and was overpowering the fear. Then the lumps started appearing, 4 of them in a file came up the tube and flowed into his asshole, arousing him and making his cock jerk, he saw them then protrude through his abdomen and start making their way to his left upper leg where they merged and again a surge of pain and pleasure flooded his system driving him wild as the muscle expanded and became part of his body, but Cam’s desire for the muscle was making him bare the pain so he could watch the wonderful thing that was happening to his body, his fear almost entirely subdued by the erotic desire to have those muscles. Cameron’s eyes were marvelled at what he saw, the muscle expanded and became his now 109cm (43 inch) left thigh, the sight made him reach orgasm and he cummed all over himself with more cum the he had ever seen before, then even though still partially lost in the pleasure more lumps appeared and started making their way to his right lower legs, then more lumps and at a faster rate started appearing, going to his upper legs, lower legs, left glute, right glute, each of his 8 individual abs, Apollo’s belt, left then his right pec, forearms, biceps, triceps, lats, delts, traps, each time making the muscle, or arms or legs contract with the expanding muscles. Every single individual muscle group, one after another, he saw as the muscles disappeared off of the bodies of the once body builders around him and come into his body and start being absorbed by him, every surge of unbelievable pain, every wave of erotic pleasure, he came again, and again, and again as the pleasure was unbearable as he saw his body parts engorge with monstrous mass, the muscle inflating like balloons, the muscle fibres showing through the paper-thin stretched skin, the veins growing, engorging and spreading all over his muscles, thickening with blood and testosterone from those 5 men, it was a sight to behold. When Cameron finally managed to came back to his senses after the thrill ride of pleasure he took, he was, needless to say, overjoyed by his body, muscles with size beyond what any mister Olympia could ever dream of achieving, veins as thick as ropes spread all over his muscles protruding and pulsating with blood, feeding them, all glistening from all the cum he shot over himself which only made his body more attractive, and the compression shorts you ask? Nowhere to be seen, they had exploded off of his engorging muscled body with only a few tatters stuck under his enormous glutes. Cameron was more than amazed and he was especially enjoying the huge veins that appear all over his muscles, he was covered in them, and they were massive and pulsated with testosterone, and the clearly visible muscle fibres that were clear as day to the eye, he loved it with all his might, but the ride wasn’t over just yet….. While Cam appreciated his new given body he noticed something weird start happening, the five tanks holding the now anorexic looking men that were once beautiful examples of muscle at its best. The five men started dissolving into the liquid and the liquid changed from transparent to a really thick-looking white almost gel-like substance. Then he heard an automated sounding voice from the computer say ‘DNA impregnation complete, beginning stage 2’ “WHAT? I’ve only gone through stage one yet, after all of this?!” he exclaimed, when he saw two much larger bulges move up the pipe that went inside of him, they were coming together in a pair, one next to each other and he felt them stop right at his anus, he then turned his attention up above his head where he heard rattling and as he turned his eyes upwards he saw the pipe dangling from above with the weird attachment, which was just like the cock head attachment the one inside him has, start moving down. He was again afraid yet again uncertain of what might happen next, his heart racing, and him body sweating profusely yet again. He tried to move his head since the pipe was coming straight down at his face when the band which had previously retracted appeared again and held his forehead firmly down, there was no avoiding it. The cockhead shaped nozzle of the tube touched Cam’s lips after it made its way down next to Cam’s head then up again to meet his mouth which he refused to open and allow it to enter, so the pressure increased more and more and his lips finally gave way, the long, thick, rubbery tube made its way into his mouth, reach the back of his throat, but before his gag reflects could even kick in it made its way down his throat and it kept going down, more and more as he saw more of it disappear in front of him into his mouth, he guessed he had swallowed about 30cm (1 foot) of it before it stopped, then like in unison both machines started doing something…… The one that had violated his now rock hard bubble ass and protruded through his now steel cut solid 8-pack abs started retreating from his ass, he was relieved thinking the approximately 40cm (16 inches) of tube that was inside of him was finally leaving his body, but as the head was just about to leave his hole, the machine re-adjusted itself to a more pronounced 90° angle and started making its way back inside, until it reached the base of Cam’s hard cock with a painful pressure, then the pressure increased and it hurt more and more, then he felt a really hot sensation in his crotch like he was in a hot bath, and although in pain he saw something amazing, the tube’s cockhead started expanding and entering the base of his cock, his eyes couldn’t believe it, as he bit his lips from the pain, but he wouldn’t stop looking at what was happening, it made its way painfully up the shaft stretching it to the 14cm (5 inch) circumference of the tube, and he saw the thicker and wider head leading the way, stretching and engorging it until it reach and stretched the 7inch cockhead of Cam’s penis, then the pain increased as it started stretched longer, and longer, it went on and on but it did so while sending waves of pleasure to Cam’s brain, it was delicious, it stretched to a full rock hard, massive length of 40cm (16inches) then stopped when the two large bulges, each about the size of an orange, were absorbed into the ball sack, and as it was absorbed, ropes of veins grew onto them and he started feeling the breeze on his stiff hot dick, it had become part of his body as well Cameron realised in a disbelieving yet still joyous shock. This huge, thick, hot, hard piece of man meat, was all his, he jerked it to see if it was true and it jerked, it was more than he ever dreamed off. The rest of the tube that was behind the huge bulges that became his balls, retreated outside to their original position next to the needle. That’s when a different noise caught Cam’s attention “There is still more?” he thought to himself, but without any fear now, he was now determined to see this through, this accident had given him the muscles and the cock he could only ever dream off, he wants it all now and he going to thoroughly enjoy it. It seems the muscles and cock not only enhanced his body but also his ego had been boosted up, and he liked it. Then he noticed the white liquid that formed from the men who were once in the tanks starting draining, the level was going down inside the tanks, when he felt the tube that went down his throat start vibrating a little and so he looked up. He saw through the transparent tube a white liquid moved downwards in the tube and it went into his mouth and he felt the flow of the liquid through his throat and as it pumped out into his chest, and he felt something strange, but in his pecs, so he looked at them and saw them swelling and pulsating and it plunge him into an orgasmic thrill ride of pleasure, it was a magnificent sensation, and he arched back from how erotic it felt while his mammoth dick jerked up and down. The tube kept pumping the liquid inside of him and into his pecs and the pecs swelled to twice their size then stop swelling but kept contracting with every massive pump into them, and Cam’s from the corner of his eye even though he was barely able to think from the pleasure he was in could see the tanks slowly drain empty, which took he could only guess was around half an hour, half an hour of toe curling, orgasmic bliss, when it started to subside he was surprised he managed to stay sane after en experience like that, and slowly the pleasure started dying down and the pumps became less intense, which is when he finally noticed that his pecs did not shrink down, but stayed at the doubled size, and looked gorgeously tight and hard, but his nipples had grown to almost triple their thickness and protruded more than 2 cm (1 inch) now and were as stiff as a hot cock. As he admired them he felt the tube retreating from him and as the head left his mouth the last bit of the liquid that was left in the tube, about a litre, pour into his mouth filling it up and then pour all over his face, and it tasted like warm, deliciously sweet and salty honey as he swallowed it down, and he recognised the smell and knew it right away that it was steamy cum, he never tasted it before or anything that tasted as delicious, it was all over his rosy lips and felt good on his face. At the same time the part of the table holding his legs up in the air lowered back down, and as it did he was regaining the feeling back in his legs and arms, and he tried to move, and he did, he managed to get off of the table and the first thing he could bring himself to do was touch himself, touch himself all over, feel the muscles up, grasp his beastly pecs and dig his fingers into the solid flesh, slide his fingers over the striations on his legs, to pas his hand over his marble abs, to feel up the ropes of veins on his 40 cm (16 inch) cock, to grope his massive balls bigger than a baseball each. All of this massively aroused him which is when he felt his chest and abs start getting wet and he looked down at his shelf-like pecs and saw something fantastic, cum was coming out of his nipples in a stream, and grabbed his left pec and squeezed and a long squirt came out of it, more than 10 times as cum in that squirt then in a regular man’s ejaculation. He squeezed again this time catching the cum and he doesn’t know why but an almost euphoric hunger came from within him for that cum and licked it all clean off of his hand, and it was delicious, so he squeezed again, and again, and again, licking it up each time, and each time the quantity increased until every squirt released about half a cup of cum, yet his pecs didn’t shrink down, nor did it feel like it was running out of cum, it just kept producing more until it satisfied his hunger. As he finished up his meal Cameron looked to the stairs for a way out, to go out into the world as a new man, and enjoy every moment of his new life. His new life of monstrous muscles, that no man would ever be able to match or surpass again, and to be the epitome of lust, beauty and strength. The End........ ?
    1 point
  45. Midwest USA A Ford F-250 pulled up to the house towing a trailer full of lawn equipment. The driver door opened and a young blond with a name patch "Dennis" on his shirt jumped out. The passenger door opened and two other young guys piled out and started unloading the equipment. Dennis went up to the door and knocked. A few moments later the door cracked open and Dennis squinted trying to see inside. "Hey I'm Dennis with Larry Landscapers. We're here to get started just wanted you to..... HOLY FUCK!" The door had slipped open and Dennis caught sight of the beast behind it. The dude must have been nearly 7 feet tall and just wrapped in lean muscle. Dennis thought if he weighed less than 500 pounds then he would eat his own shirt. "Keep it down, man" The beast whispered to him. "Just...just......." He sneezed violently and shuddered. Dennis winced as a spray of saliva and mucus caught him in the face. The creature in front of him rolled his eyes and shuddered again then tried to speak, "I'm...sorry." There was a strange creaking sound coming from him and Dennis realized he was growing. Dennis started to wipe his face. The creature spoke again, "I...ughh....I....Just start.....ohhhhhh shit......I will leave the check on the step." He stumbled back groaning and Dennis saw the beast's monstrous cock rise up to attention as the door slammed shut. He heard some gasping and grunting and a small crash from the other side of the door. Dennis hesitated then tried to call out, "Hey. Man! You ok in there?" No response. He knocked one more time and thought he heard heavy footsteps retreating form the door. "Poor guy must be totally embarrassed that I saw him sprout wood" Dennis smirked. Then realized a booger was hanging on his cheek when he saw his reflection. "Awww! That's disgusting!" He wiped it off and went to the truck to get started. The other two guys had already started running the mower and edging. "Jason!" Dennis called over the sound of the mower. "JASON!" The teenager looked up and released the handle letting the engine die. "Whaddup Dennis?" "Where are those wet towels we got. The sick dude in there just blew snot all over me" Jason's face lit up. "He what?" "What the hell are you so excited about? He blew snot in my face and it's gross. I want to clean my face first. Where are the wipes?" "Uh...in the glove box I think...but dude...." Jason was practically shivering with excitement. "Dude what is wrong with you?" Jason ran up to him, "Maybe you just got that muscle flu that's going around?" "What are you talking about? Is this more of the Internet conspiracy crap you keep spouting?" "No! I mean yes I...." "No but yes? You're not even making sense and...." Dennis looked down, "Easy on the crotch there hormone boy!" Jason's face went red as he realized he had tented his shorts in front of his boss. He couldn't help it though. He always had a secret crush on the 28 year old who ran his crew. Dennis had blond hair, deep blue eyes and his sweet surfer build. But he seemed ignorant of any news, politics, anything at all. He only seemed to work, surf and sleep. "Sorry, man!" "No worries. You're 17 it happens. I remember that age just about anything would stir me up, even looking at Swiss cheese and thinking about all those holes." "Yeah, but you may have..." "Enough with the conspiracy crap, although the guy was kind of...." "Kind of what?" "Nothing. Let's get back to work" Jason went back to the mower but kept glancing at Dennis who had started to work on the trees in the yard. When Dennis had his back turned, Jason got Mark's attention who was edging. Mark walked over, "Whaddup J-man?" Dennis motioned him quieter, "Mark, I think Dennis just caught that muscle flu from the guy who owns this place" Mark looked over and studied Dennis for a moment, "He don't look no different to me" "No, I mean he said the guy blew snot all over him and was trying to wipe his face. It could take a bit for it to work but...." Just then Dennis turned and saw his workers talking by the mower. "Hey I don't want this to take all day. Let's get moving." Dennis turned to the next tree and started working on the lower limbs. Jason nudged Mark, "Did you see his face. He looked kind of pale like he..." "Like he's been working in this humid freaking air. Jason get a life and.....easy on that thing" Jason had boned up again. Mark shook his head and went back to the edger. Jason blushed again and started to push the mower. He kept glancing at Dennis to see if he could see any change, but Dennis was just working hard and seemed to be sweating from all the cutting. His shirt clung to his back. Jason was growing frustrated. No one believed him and Dennis showed no signs of hulking out or even looking too tired. Mark glanced over at Jason and laughed. Jason knew he wasn't trying to be cruel but it sure felt that way right then. So freaking hot and so freaking humid and this yard then two more and...."Damn!" He ran over a huge stick with the mower and it shot out three sides when it was chopped by the blade. He let go of the handle killing the engine and backed up. Dennis and Mark both turned to see what had happened. Jason angry and embarrassed beyond belief now went to pick up the big pieces of the stick. He bent over and then he heard it. A small gasp and a ripping sound. He smiled. Finally he would be proven right. He looked at Dennis and started to stand up but something was wrong. Dennis didn't look any different. Only Dennis was staring at him strangely.Mark called out, "Holy shit!" That's when Jason realized the gasp had come from his own mouth and the ripping was the back of his own shirt which seemed a bit smaller now. He shuddered as a strange but pleasurable sensation raced through his body and his dick rose up again inside a pair of shorts that were now much tighter than before. Dennis dropped the shears he was using and ran over to Jason with a concerned look on his face. Jason managed a smirk when he figured out what was happening, "Told you...ugh.. Not conspiracy...." Two thick pectoral muscles pushed outwards against Jason's shirt stretching the name patch and logo into a weird morph. Dennis looked confused, 'Yeah but you didn't go anywhere near that guy. I did" He grabbed Jason's arm but couldn't get all the way around as it swelled outwards and ripped through the sleeve. Thick veins running up and down it. Dennis' eyes rolled back in his head as he inched up taller and his lats widened forcing the back of the shirt to tear further. He suddenly took a deep breath and the front of the shirt exploded outwards as his rib cage expanded. He grinned at Dennis and glanced down at the small hand holding his arm, "Coach last week...at school....He left and never came back....Must have been him. Ahhhhhhhh!" Dennis had to let go and step back as another surge passed through Jason. With thick ripping sounds the seams of the jeans burst apart and massive quads ballooned out. Jason staggered as he adjusted his stance. He had grown from his smaller 5'7 stature to match Dennis' 6' and was eye to eye with him now. Only swollen with thick lean muscle. He leaned forward into Dennis who gaped as thick traps rose up around Jason's thickening neck. Jason whispered breathlessly only inches from Dennis' face "This feels fucking awesome. You are going to love it! Ughhhh" he suddenly fell forward as another surge and intense euphoria passed through him. Dennis staggered under the weight of the now much heavier teenager. "Dude! I don't want to be a freak like this!" A moan from behind them drew their focus as they looked at skinny Mark frantically rubbing his crotch who yelled, "Then get the fuck out of the way man. I would give my left nut for this!" Mark came over and shoved Dennis backwards onto the ground, then reached up and kissed Jason on the mouth. Dennis groaned as he rose another 3 inches and his muscle swelled even further into unbelievable proportions. Then he smiled, "Mark, I always liked your skinny little butt" "Shut up, dude! I'm not gay, I just want the muscle." Then he grunted and closed his eyes. He opened them again and checked his body for any sign of growth. "What the fuck? When do I get muscle?" Dennis lay on his back staring as Jason swelled out further and the waist on his jeans finally burst causing them to fall to the ground. Mark gave up trying to grow and just started jacking off at the show he was getting. Sirens sounded in the distance. The door flew open and a voice called out."Get in here before the cops come and take you down!" Jason turned and lumbered in the direction of the house. Mark started to follow. Dennis called out, "Where are you going?" "I gotta see this, man. I gotta figure out how to make it happen to me!" Dennis got up and chased him to the door and caught him by the arm just as he was going inside. Jason stood just inside and was dwarfed by the larger beast already there, who spoke to them, "You'd better get in here too. You are already showing signs" Mark excitedly yelled, "I am? I think I feel something!" "Not you. him" and pointed at Dennis who was just staring. Mark turned and realized that Dennis tight chest looked slightly bigger and fuller. Dennis closed his eyes and shuddered, then through clenched teeth gasped out, "No" Dennis staggered forward hoping to hide inside the house accompanied by the sound of threads giving way to a more solid frame. Mark stared at him as his shoulders ruptured the seams of the shirt. A cop car turned onto the street. The driver looked around. He saw a skinny landscaping man glance at them, yell "It's not fair!" and run inside slamming the door. He looked at his partner and smirked, "This must be the place. You wanted to get infected too right?" The two cops grinned at each other and rubbed at their crotches.
    1 point
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines, Terms of Use, & Privacy Policy.
We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..