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Chapter Six It was barely the crack of dawn as Sam slowly walked down the street towards Brutus. He didn’t care about how people reacted to him. In fact, most of the time, it thrilled him to see how much of a frenzy he could create in a matter of seconds. Being outside this early, with the streets practically deserted, was a pleasant change for Sam. It was six months since the bodybuilding show and Sam’s gains had surpassed his most extreme fantasies. The short walk had become intense cardio for someone his size. Sam had his headphones on, lost in his own thoughts so he didn’t hear the van pull up. He barely felt the first tranquilizer dart pierce his skin and by the four or fifth, darkness clouded his head and he blacked out. With a start, Sam woke, unaware of how long he’d been out. His head was foggy from the drugs but as mind cleared he began to assess his situation. He felt the blindfold wrapped around his head. He smelt the strong odour of gasoline. He tried to move but found he was being confined somehow. “I wouldn’t struggle, it will only make the restraints tighter.” Echoed a voice from a distance away. It caused Sam’s heart to race. It sounded familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. “What the fuck!” Was all Sam could say. He heard slow movement of feet on concrete before something heavy slammed into the side of his head with such force, he saw stars. The blow knocked the blindfold off but it was a few minutes before Sam’s eyes started to adjust. He tasted blood and his head was throbbing. “I’ve been watching you for the last six months.” Came the voice from a dark corner not far from Sam. He could barely make out the shape except to determine it was large, very large. “I have to say, what you’ve been able to do to yourself is pretty incredible. I started getting regular reports from people about just how big you were getting until I decided enough was enough.” The figure moved out of the shadows. They were wearing an oversized cover-up that looked more like a blanket than actual clothing. Their head was covered but as the light shone on their body, a chill ran up Sam’s spine. The person was absolutely massive, even covered up, their sheer mass was impossible to hide. The person raised their head enough to allow the light to shine on their face. “BEN!” Sam screamed. “Seeing you at the bodybuilding show broke me Sam. I don’t know how you got so huge, so fast but I decided I was going to get just as big, NO, BIGGER.” “Ben! Why are you doing this?” Sam yelled. To say seeing Sam win the bodybuilding show rattled Ben would be an understatement. He rushed home and wanted to hide away forever. How could this once lazy kid overshadow him, dominate him in the sport he loved more than anything? As the days passed his rage increased until it became like a poison flowing through Ben’s veins. He couldn’t just sit by and let Sam achieve the dreams he craved. With a renewed level of determination, Ben refocused his efforts and decided to do whatever it took to become the biggest 19 year old freak the world had ever seen. He approached the biggest, roided out freak at his gym and purchased a massive quantity of the most potent gear. His caloric intake tripled and he devised the most aggressive workout plan he could imagine. Three months after seeing Sam at the bodybuilding show, Ben had gained so much new mass he would have made contest-ready Sam look like the skinny loser he once was. Even Ben was surprised by his gains. He had a become know as a complete psychopath at his gym. When the manager threatened to cancel his membership, Ben snapped a 45lb plate in the man’s face to show him what he’d do to every bone in his body if he made that threat again. As manic and frightening as he’d become on his quest to grow, there was a growing group of muscle lovers that pledged to help Ben get as big as humanly possible. They paid for anything he needed, even offering to cook for him. In return, Ben would allow them to feast on the abomination he was becoming. He loved the attention and power he held over them. One day, during a particularly gruelling leg workout, Ben took his growth journey to an entirely new level. He had the squat bar loaded with eight 45lb plates on each side. The 765lbs would have crushed most seasoned powerlifters but for Ben, it felt like a warmup. As Ben rose for the seventh rep, his crowd of admirers staring in awe. The huge bar was slammed on the rack with such force, the whole cage slid a foot forward. Ben took a step back and ordered three more plates to be added to either side. The men knew not to protest. As the plates were added, bringing the total to a staggering 1,035lbs, Ben’s attention was on his fully pumped, nearly naked body. Rising to his full 5’10” height, his shoulders almost grazed the sides of the squat rack. He weighed himself at 305lbs just an hour before, an inhuman gain of 108lbs in the three months since the bodybuilding show. He surpassed looking like a professional bodybuilder and was becoming something completely different. In every direction, slabs of thick, vein-covered muscle exploded from his body. While there was still a hint of the 19 year kid under all that mass, Ben only saw the growing wall of muscle he always wanted to become. “Four needles, NOW!” Ben commanded. One of the hardcore lifters dedicated to fulfilling Ben’s every command approached with the syringes ready. As the powerful drugs were injected into his system, Ben shook and flexed his 36” tree-trunk dwarfing quads for his minion to droll over. Tearing his quads away from the man’s grip, Ben positioned himself under the record-breaking weight. He let out a low, primal growl and lifted the bar off the rack, the weight trying to crush his body. Slowly, Ben started to lower the bar until his monstrously huge glutes were only inches from the ground. “GROW!” He screamed and started to rise. At the top of the rep, his skin-tight shorts literally exploded, exposing his striated glutes for the crowd to ogle. As the moans from the crowd filled the room, Ben felt his strength increase, knowing all eyes were on his expanding body. “YES. GET OFF ON THIS FUCKING MASS!” He screamed as the reps started to come quicker. The pain in his thighs was excruciating but the sight was like something out of a science fiction movie. From his head to his toes, Ben was nothing but a quivering mass of muscle. As the onlooker’s hot cum started to splash onto his paper-thin skin, Ben was bellowing like a rabid beast. He lost count of the reps and on his last one, instead of racking the weight, he rose on his toes, flexing his 22” calves. Cum was puddling at his feet and as he looked at his bloated legs, he began to shoot his own load, his hands still gripping the heavy bar. “YES. LOOK AT ME. I AM A FREAK!” He screamed as he racked the bar, grabbed his throbbing cock and shot another load while flexing every muscle. He turned to face his crowd, pointing to the two largest men, each a professional bodybuilder in their own right. As they nervously approached, Ben wrapped his 24” arms around each of their waists and with no visible effort, lifted them off the ground. With his attention on his reflection in the mirror, he alternatively began to fuck the huge man, maneuvering them like small sex toys on and off his rock-hard cock. Each forceful thrust, causing his hulking body to swell even bigger. The scene was so extreme, a few of his admirers puked at the sight, while others continued to shoot loads. By the end, the two men slid down Ben’s massive body as he continued to flex, seemingly unaware anyone else was even present. For the next three months, reports would come to Ben on a regular basis. He would send someone to check on Sam’s progress. While specifics were hard to get, Sam worked out in private, locking the doors at Brutus for most of his gruelling workouts, Ben would gather some information. While Sam’s growth continued to defy logic, Ben refused to allow it to distract him, responding by injecting and ingesting more drugs, food and supplements. The torture he subjected himself to seemed to have no limit. Two weeks prior to Sam’s abduction, Ben received an update he’d been dreading. Grant, one of his most dedicated admirers woke Ben up in the middle of the night by pounding on his apartment door. Ben knew there was something wrong when Grant didn’t stare in utter shock at Ben’s naked body, instead, he looked shaken and terrified. Ben ushered Grant inside and asked what happened. “I’m sorry Ben but h-h-he’s j-j-just s-s-so HUGE!” Ben could feel his cheeks get warm listening to Grant and seeing how upset he was. Grant was a huge 320lb powerlifter that was shaking like a scared little kid. “Tell me what happened.” Ben commanded. “I was waiting for Sam to leave Brutus like you said. I was outside, about to go in when I started to hear the screams. Next thing I knew, people started running out into the street. They were all really freaked out. I stepped inside and there he was!” Grant said, burying his face in his hands, unable to go on. Ben placed his hand on the dining room table and with a subtle movement, caused the legs to splinter, the table top crashed to the floor. “WHAT!” He yelled. “He was curling the fucking leg press machine! Like a fucking barbell! It was loaded with plates too! He looked like a fucking demon! I’ve never seen anyone so massive.” Ben stepped forward, gripping Grant around the throat with one hand and effortlessly lifted him off the ground. He slammed his head into the wall and continued to force him higher. Grant tried to claw at Ben’s forearm but he would have had better luck punching a brick wall. “HE CAN”T BE BIGGER THAN ME! NO ONE CAN!” Ben said, tossing Grant across the room where the large man fell to the floor and a terrified heap. “I’m sorry Ben. I’m sorry Ben. I’m sorry Ben.” Grant chanted as he looked up at Ben’s body eclipsing the light around him. “FUCK! This will not do. He needs to be stopped! I NEED TO STOP HIM! Call the others, have them at the gym in 10 minutes. THIS ENDS NOW!” Ben screamed and stormed down the hall to find something to wear. Ben took a step closer to Sam, assessing his impossible size but further fuelled by the confidence he had for his own massive presence. “I did this so you could see just how big someone can get. I WANT YOU TO FEEL SMALL THIS TIME SAM!” Ben screamed as he pulled the billowing cover off his body. He smiled menacingly as Sam’s screams filled the large, cavernous garage.

Damn. Who are they?

Twenty-Two Months I easily pinned his arms to the floor and rubbed my hard cock up and down his cement-like, cobbled abs, the tip of his own stiff rod poking into my balls every time I moved downward. My hard shaft and balls loving how his stomach could quickly bring me to the brink of orgasm. The big man grunted from the effort he was having to use to try and get his arms up off the rug. He strained hard and got them a half-inch in the air before I slammed them back down. My gaping dick slit emited a bubble of pre-cum as it scraped against the ridges of his hard, perfectly molded abdominals, the cum making a slip-n-slide in his perfect fur-trail that ran up the middle of the bumps. I squeezed my monstrous thighs at his side just so I could hear him moan from the slight pain, but mostly from the display of power my legs now possessed. He appreciated it when I reminded him of how strong I had become. My upper legs were now thicker than his mid-section, something he could feel as I tightened them – he didn’t even need to look down. It’s been a few weeks since I discovered I was now strong enough to overpower him. It had happened by accident. One morning he decided to wake me up by slamming his body down on top of me in bed – having an urge to fill me with protein. I had awakened with a start and reacted without even thinking – shrugging him off my body and quickly jumping on top of him. We were now wrestling a lot, since I had grown big enough to give him a challenge, so he instantly went on the defensive. I had my equally massive body smashing his against the mattress and he went to push me off. I tensed my muscles and made myself as heavy as I could. His attempt to shove me off of him was met with resistance – something neither of us were used to. It took a few seconds for my mind to realize what was happening, but he instantly shot into that manly half-smile and doubled his efforts to push me away from him. The shock of what was happening allowed him to get my body a half of foot off of him, but I quickly realized what was happening and shoved myself back down – hard . . . forcing the wind out of his body. “Not today muscle Frankendaddy!” My voice was not harsh. I merely spoke in a tone that matched my new body. That moment wasn’t about dominating Frankendaddy and I knew it would never be about that. I was merely showing my mentor – the man who had created the muscled beast I had become – how much I had grown and how much stronger my muscles made me. I wanted him to be rewarded for his incredible devotion to my changes. The elder man’s cock had never shot as hard as quickly as it did at that moment. I instantly realized this had been the moment my Frankendaddy had been waiting for. This had been the goal of all of his work . . . all of his dedication. As he had struggled against my now stronger arms, legs, and body, he had released the most intense load of cum in his entire life. I could feel the pelting of hot juice shooting up between our bodies as my muscle daddy realized his muscle creation was now perfect. From that moment onward, I was treated differently. I became less of an object to mold or perfect and slipped into the role of a partner or equal. Frankendaddy began to view me in an entirely new way and a few nights later he had told me it was time for me have the pleasure of his ass – a part of him that had never been conquered before. As he informed me of this new development something in my brain shifted – causing a new awareness of my entire body to suddenly develop, as well. I instantly saw myself differently – as if I had reached the finish line after running a marathon. I knew I would continue to grow and work out hard, but my brain accepted that I was now everything Frankendaddy had hoped for . . . planned for . . . desired. I was totally his creation and I would be indebted to him forever. I fully became his massive muscled beast in that moment – and we both realized it. The manly half-smile had been more gorgeous than ever when he looked at me. “I will not give myself to you willingly, pup. You will have to conquer me to be rewarded with my ass.” Suddenly, I was aware of every bulging muscle on my body, every blood-bumping vein, and every incredible ounce of strength housed within me. I no longer thought of my potential. I only thought of what I had become. I accepted my new status – given simply because I had reached a certain massiveness. My new size and power released a confidence that could not have been foreseen . . . could not have even been imagined. My pride in my muscles swelled to equal their hugeness. It was not a bullying cockiness that overwhelmed me . . . it was merely an awareness that I was enough. I was my Frankendaddy’s fully-realized creation and that made me hold my enormous body in a new way. It made me see myself as complete . . .as powerful . . . as the beast my creator saw when he looked at me. I was created in his image and I had now surpassed my mentor. The sex that had immediately followed had been so intense, so uncontrolled that furniture had been broken, bodies had been bruised, and Frankendaddy’s ass had been taken in a way that must have resembled what it was like when two monstrous lions fought. When my dick head penetrated his manly, tight hole the heavens had opened up and the elder muscleman had cried out in a deep roar that seemed to shake the foundation of the house. I had, in turn, suddenly felt invincible . . . god-like . . . more of a man than I could have ever dreamed of. I knew, at that moment, I had become everything Frankendaddy had ever fantasized about. I was more his than ever before. I was now the perfection he knew I would someday reach. I pounded more cum out of him than he had ever thought possible. And now it was a few weeks after that glorious day and nothing had lessened . . . nothing had changed. I waddled beastlike around the brownstone with not a stitch of clothing on. Frankendaddy was perpetually hard and said it was because of the way I carried my huge body now – the confidence that I exuded in everything I did. I flexed my muscles constantly – without even thinking about it. I simply liked making them tighten and bulge – to swell bigger than I could have ever imagined. I liked having to turn sideways to go through doorways, having to be gentle when I sat in chairs, and feeling my muscleman’s eyes following me constantly. I took his ass numerous times a day, but I offered mine up, as well. The thrill of being fucked by Frankendaddy was equal to the thrill of pounding his tight-as-hell hole. When we did leave the house I would carefully tug on a skin-tight shirt and pair of shorts – always needing the help of my creator – and marvel at the shocked faces and gawking stares I would receive from anyone that saw me. It felt like I was a giant rhino suddenly sauntering down the street or walking into a room. There was no way people could avoid noticing me. I was just too huge. And all of that brought us to this morning – twenty-two months after being chosen by Frankendaddy and having returned from the courthouse an hour earlier after the judge jokingly proclaimed us two married muscle beasts – with a definite hint of lust in his eyes. I had ripped Frankendaddy’s clothes off of his body, thrown him to the floor, and told him it was now time to fully consummate our marriage by fucking the hell out of each other. As I built up my impending ejaculation by stroking my cock and balls against his muscled stomach, I looked into his eyes with all the love I could, with tears rolling down my cheeks, and said the only appropriate words for that moment. “Thank you, Frankendaddy. I love you.”

<< Click to read Part 2 Thank you everyone for the replies. I'm glad to see so many people like the story so far. This next part gets more spicy, and I hope you find it worth the wait. -- Part 3 Waking up the next morning was way less rough than yesterday’s debacle — until Finn realized he was already late. Cursing his failed alarm once again, but grateful for the restful sleep, he took very little time to get ready and dash. Attempting to make sure he looked more presentable than yesterday, he told himself to stand up straighter. The only thing stopping him from looking like he was ready to seize the day were his aching and sore arms, temporarily bent into the iconic dinosaur arm pose emblematic of any new lifter. “Looks like someone’s feeling the DOMS.” Brian had slipped into the break room for his morning coffee just to catch Finn grabbing a water. Finn winced as he outstretched his arm into the fridge, grimacing as he retracted his arm, bottle in hand. “If you’re talking about my arms feeling like I put them through hell, then you’re right.” “DOMS is like the soreness you feel after a workout. You’re new and you pushed yourself hard yesterday, so I can’t imagine how fucked your arms feel.” Brian glanced up from his phone. “I just don’t remember it making you look bigger. You got a tighter shirt on?” “No.” Finn looked down at himself but nothing seemed amiss. “This is my usual Friday shirt.” “Huh.” Brian’s eyes lingered for a moment as if he was ready to say something, but he ended up just looking back at his phone. Changing the topic, he brought up the trending story of the hour. “Did you see that thing about the high school in Nevada?” “I’m from Boston. Nevada’s a mystery to me. What happened?” “Look,” Brian replied, passing his phone to Finn. “It says some kid totally cratered the side of his school building during his summer class. There’s something weird about it.” Finn studied the image he was seeing: a brick-built circular building, surrounded by smoke and on the brink of collapse thanks to a massive hole seemingly punched out the side of the building. “That’s crazy. Is he enhanced?” “No one’s said yet.” Finn passed the phone back to Brian. “It’s probably some kid messing with Chitauri artifacts. You know the west loves showing it off to students.” “You think so? I think they might be hiding something.” Brian scrolled through once on his phone before starting to walk out. “Well, I gotta start working on stuff. Thanks for finding my shirt. See ya later — by the way, the beard is looking good!” It took a moment for Finn to understand what he meant before he leaned into the coffee maker, trying to catch his reflection. Sure enough, there was a very faint 5 o’clock shadow sprouting out, paired with a light dusting of hair above his lip. Finn usually preferred a clean look, but he’d never seen himself with this much hair on his face. “I gotta shave,” he muttered to himself. Finn wasted no time today, immediately getting to work on research. It wasn’t long before he settled on the Intelligencia Pod homepage, resisting the urge to listen to one of their episodes and giving them another view. Instead, Finn was fixated on their logo: a blend between a radioactive symbol and a flexing arm, in green and purple, abstracted, atop the wide bold font stating their name. It was only then that Finn dug into his bag and pulled out the empty bottle he drank from the previous day. Sure enough, tucked away in the bottom row of logos, inconspicuous yet obvious, was the very same logo. This only plunged Finn deeper into the rabbit hole, trying to find how tightly linked the two were. There was something intriguing and engrossing about this, especially as Finn discovered how the government got involved with them at some point, then their sudden renaissance over the past few years. Finn remembered graduating high school and already hearing peers mention it, although it was derided as a joke. It wasn’t long before he discovered Intelligencia Holdings. “It’s a huge conglomerate hiding in plain sight. It somehow has a cash flow of over 100 million dollars but no one talks about it!” He passionately explained the situation to Marty, who seemed stumped at every detail being told to him. Finn had rushed to Marty’s office after four hours of keeping his eyes glued to his screen. “Intelligencia isn’t supposed to be an operating company,” Marty said. “Are you absolutely sure that the two are under an actual holding company?” Finn nodded to him. “As far as I can tell, both Gamma Labs and the podcast are subsidiaries. I haven’t seen anything else of note — about every other one listed seems to be some shell company or totally defunct.” Finn passed his notebook, filled to the brim with notes and diagrams based on what he’d found, to Marty. “It actually astounds me, mainly because I found out they were around in 2022. They’re an Avengers-era corporation, and most of them did not survive.” “Intelligencia didn’t.” Marty’s voice took on a more concerned tone. “They were only supposed to be some loose online community. I mean, S.H.I.E.L.D. never fully briefed us or the press on what happened with them. They just alluded to a gamma-related incident.” “And they’re involved with the Green Wave directly. Almost controlling it,” Finn said. “Gamma Labs and the podcast are trying to hide that they’re connected, especially since they don’t mention each other directly. But their logos are on each other’s websites! They’re obfuscating the truth.” Marty tossed Finn’s notebook on the table before closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “This is not where I expected this to go.” Finn stood idly before collecting the notebook. “Ok. I want you to try to compile a rushed report on any further info you can find about Intelligencia today. Down to the smallest detail.” Marty was writing down his own notes before he slapped another one on the table to give to Finn. “The fact that they’re gaining more influence so quickly is not good, and I don’t have a good read on what exactly they’d be doing getting Gen Gamma guys on board with them. Need it by Monday.” Finn quietly nodded and left. “Good work this week,” he heard Marty say behind him. “Get some rest. You earned it.” — The weekend was finally within reach after a long, confusing week of strange shifts and discoveries. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like the strangeness was going to end anytime soon. As Finn approached the front door of his apartment, a plain cardboard box placed right beside his door caught his eye. He only casually passed by it at first, glancing at it to see who it belonged to — maybe one of his neighbors would appreciate him giving it directly to them — but instead stopped slackjaw when he noticed it was addressed to him, sent from an address in South Carolina. He took it inside, gingerly placing it on his table. He wasn’t expecting any packages. Standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, Finn quickly looked through his email to find something that could explain what he was dealing with. He gasped when he found a thread from Gamma Labs titled “Get ready to Hulk Out. Your complimentary package is delivered.” He never remembered ordering anything. He would never order something from this circus. Yet he grabbed a pair of scissors to cut open the box, simultaneously excited and in disgusted disbelief that a Gamma Labs package was in his apartment. It took only a few swift motions before Finn pulled out a new 6 pack of Gamma Labs’ Gamma Unlock Protein Shake. It was wrapped in a deep green matte plastic, with generic fitness-oriented marketing jargon dotting its surface. He even went so far as to cut it open — but only to inspect one of the bottles. Finn picked it up, holding it in his hand as if to compare its weight to the one before, to confirm that this was the very same one. He turned it to find the Intelligencia logo, and it was there. “How the hell did this get here?” Finn slipped the bottle back into the packaging with the rest of the bottles, leaving it to sit. He tried to think of every logical, conceivable way this could’ve happened. He definitely didn’t order this today, since it would’ve needed to take at least 12 hours to get to his door. This means it must have happened in the past couple days. Even then it wouldn’t have made sense, he had no time to do it… Unless… Finn’s email search was interrupted by a notification from Britter, indicating a post from a news outlet with an update for a recent news story. “The building-leveling accident that has left a high school in shambles has been classified as a Gamma Incident,” he read aloud. “The classification for potential Enhanced-involved destruction has not been used since 2049, when Dr. Bruce Banner first announced his alleged ‘total control of the Hulk’ and retirement from hero activities with the She-Hulk, Jennifer Walters. Walters passed away at age 65 in 2057, while Dr. Banner was reported to be dead a year later at age 89. Dr. Banner’s alleged son Skaar is not on Earth.” Finn tried to understand what it meant for the very possibility of another Hulk being thrown into their world, and how it was possible. All the while, his eyes were fixated on the package of Protein Shake drinks on his countertop. — “Mmmph…” Finn was finally waking up to the sunlight pouring through the blinds of his window, casting shadows over his eyes, his neck, his chest, his legs, his stained blanket… He was beginning to realize he could feel some warm liquid pooling around his dick and saturating his boxers. With his eyes still shut, Finn slowly fumbled his hands around to feel his rapidly deflating dick through a soaked pair of shorts. He rubbed his fingers as he pulled them away, quickly recognizing the warm sticky substance. Despite something telling him exactly what it was, he was uncharacteristically relishing the sensation. “Shit. What the hell was I dreaming about…” Finn wiped his fingers on the sides of his shorts to rid them of the sticky feeling, before resting his hand on his bare chest, slowly feeling his brain turn on… Wait. His eyes shot open. There was a sudden rush to his head as he regained full consciousness. He hadn’t had a wet dream since he was 12. And he’s always went to sleep with a shirt on. Now he was fully awake. Finn suddenly scrambled upwards, feeling the air of the room against his bare torso. He felt around his bed, lightly grimacing at the feeling of the warm wet sheets (although part of him loved it), hoping to find a shirt. He instinctively felt around his body, trying to detect any sign of fabric, but failing to realize the increased toughness and tone of his still-small muscles. A million questions popped up in his head as he began to scan the rest of his room when he finally found it: a shirt of his at the foot of his bed. He jumped out of bed to retrieve it — awkwardly shuffling around as the reality of his sticky situation began to hit him — just to be shocked when he picked it up to find the shirt was ripped up. Still somehow barely holding together by literal threads, he was shocked to see the graphic tee was ripped down the middle of the collar on the back, looking like a makeshift suit, with one of the sleeves completely gone. It looked like the shirt exploded off of him. “How the hell did this happen?” he asked himself, staring and studying all the ripped edges of the shirt. Words got caught in his throat, and he could feel his heart beat even faster. Panic was setting in. Something was wrong. Something was different. This came from somewhere, didn’t it? Desperate to find an explanation, Finn spun around his room to see any sign of other damage, but instead he began to fixate on an open ballpoint pen in the middle of his bed. His favorite pen, due to its super fine point. A super sharp point. “Jesus Christ,” Finn sighed as he walked over to pick it up. He looked at it, and it became clear to him that the pen did the damage. It probably pierced a hole into that super-thin shirt, and just ripped it to shreds as he tossed and turned. He probably kicked it down to the floor in his sleep. That was a strong and reasonable explanation, Finn decided as he slipped into a new set of clothes, careful to choose a thicker shirt that won’t spontaneously rip off. What the pen did NOT explain, however, was the mess in the middle of his living room. Papers were strewn about, looking like a tornado had come in the place. Finn was not amused as he slowly walked over, studying each piece. Their origin seemed to be… “My notebook — fuck!” Finn rushed to the kitchen to find it sitting there with half of its pages torn out. His eyes darted around the small living area, trying to see where the debris of his work was placed. Thankfully, as he rummaged through the mess of destroyed and completely ripped up paper, he found all of his notes on the Green Wave intact. And when he finally collected all the unrecoverable pages to throw in the trash, he was puzzled to find a completely crushed bottle placed dead center in an otherwise empty trash bin. Familiar deep green packaging gave it away. The words ‘Gamma Unlock’ were barely visible. He knew he had it. The issue was that he didn’t remember drinking it. Not at home. At first, it was that same fear and panic as before. He could barely piece together the why and how, leaving him feeling too vulnerable in his own place of refuge. As his mind ran through several scenarios — a break-in, sleepwalking, even him somehow getting black out drunk and forgetting everything — anger began to supplant all else. Something (or someone) was fucking with his brain, and he wasn’t having it. Why did he let himself drink something that may be poison? But Finn’s logical side quickly quashed that feeling. That can’t be right. Suppressing the sudden urge to punch something, his hands shaking as pure adrenaline started pumping through, Finn turned away from the bin and the bottle. He was feeling frazzled again. The day was barely getting started, but he felt like he was losing it. He set down his notes on the Green Wave. He just needed some food in his system. In a far away mirror, he caught a glimpse of green in his eyes quickly dissipating, which he dismissed as glare from the sunlight hitting it. The thought of Gamma Labs’ history weighed in his mind. — “You know, you’re really impressing me.” Finn, sitting on one of Phelps Gym’s benches, looked up to see Brian’s stare locked onto him as he gulped down some water. “You said you weren’t that interested, but your strength gains say otherwise,” Brian said, wiping some sweat from his forehead. “Even for newbie gains, your progress has been crazy. You’re a natural, bro, it’s always been in you.” Still catching his breath, relishing the feeling of the sweat dripping down his body, Finn was in no condition to properly respond. Instead, feeling more blood rush to his face when he’s supposed to cool down, he simply replied with a small “Thank you.” Finn looked down at his hands, which were a little red from handling dumbbells and bars, feeling the energy and strength of the workout settle in. He’d never imagined his hands moving like this, pushing and pulling weights, working his muscles. There was something… satisfying about receiving validation — the kind that just affirms something that he’d been lacking. There was a certain warmth and pride that was pooling in his chest. This feeling — it’s always been in him. Brian was right. He just never let himself indulge in it. Enough blood had pumped to his brain that Finn could finally put words together again. “I doubt I could get to your level, though.” Brian chuckled. “Don’t doubt yourself, bro. I bet you’ll get here sooner than you think. Some people just got that beast waiting inside, you know.” There he went again, fueling Finn’s ideas of ‘finally becoming a man,’ even though it was a futile, regressive concept. The sound of being called ‘bro’ was also starting to sound like music to his ears — he used to hate it since it sounded dumb. Now, it made him feel less awkward around Brian. Water bottle in mouth, Brian beckoned Finn to follow him as he turned towards the locker room. Finn stood up to follow him. Recalling the story Brian shared with him yesterday, Finn decided to bring it up. “Did you see any updates on that school in Nevada?” Brian shook his head as he pushed open the doors to the locker room. “Nah. I don’t check the news outside of work. Did something happen?” “They said that it’s being investigated as a Gamma incident.” Finn watched Brian fiddle with his lock before finally taking it off. He grabbed his bag. “A Gamma incident? What, ‘cause he’s Gen Gamma?” Brian stifled a chuckle, seemingly amused by his own joke. Finn shrugged, smiling, before turning away as he pulled off his sweat stained shirt. “It would be funny if Gen Gamma was called that ‘cause we’d all turn into gamma mutates.” “You don’t even know the half of it, bro.” Brian pulled out two bottles of the Gamma Unlock shake out of his bag and passed one of them to Finn. “Here. Get your protein in.” “Thanks,” Finn said. He cracked it open, its sound muffled by the cacophony of people shuffling through the locker room and opening their own doors. “So…” Brian wiped himself with his yellowed gym towel, his noticeably pumped arms catching Finn’s attention as his hands traveled around his neck. “How’s the Gamma Wave project? Are you into it?” Finn clumsily pulled his bottle away from his mouth, followed by a hard gulp. “I don’t know, to be honest. I’m not the biggest fan — they’re all overly macho and vain. It reminds me vaguely of alpha male bullshit. That’s not really me… But I’m slowly understanding it, you know.” “Really?” Brian asked before turning away, pulling off his own shirt. before reaching into his bag to pull out a clean one. “Yeah, I mean I guess they might have some merits but as a whole…” Finn’s eyes were glued onto Brian’s wide back, and a deeper sense of admiration grew as he studied the man’s muscle insertions and mass. Gears still turning in his head, a brief flash of imagination as he envisioned himself being built just like Brian. It was quickly interrupted when he finally realized that Brian had revealed himself: “Wait, how did you know about my project?” “What do you mean?” Brian had fit himself into a plain black shirt before he turned around. The expression on his face was hard to read — was he shocked that Finn noticed? Or was he just playing it cool? “Did I tell you about it or something?” Finn stood up, partially in fear. He racked his brain for more info or any kind of memory — something — that would remind him of why Brian knew, but there was nothing. Brian stayed silent for a moment, as if he was also searching for an answer. “Marty told me,” he said finally. “I just have a small personal interest in it. Didn’t mean to spook ya, bro.” Maybe that explanation would have sufficed for any other topic, but Finn was already aware of the possible conspiracy brewing underneath the movement’s surface. While it was surely possible that Marty told Brian, it wasn’t nearly as plausible as Brian was suggesting. Finn’s mind raced as he placed himself out of gym mode and back into his typical investigative personality. “You doing anything tomorrow?” Brian asked the silent Finn as he rummaged through his locker. “Look, I have my own, uh… research that I’ve done on my own. Maybe we could meet up and I could show you.” Finn stayed silent for only a moment longer, weighing out his options. “Well…” That voice in the back of his head started whispering to him again, trying to convince him that there was nothing wrong with his bro coming over. The more logical parts of himself were trying to scream ‘No’ at him, desperate to sound off all the alarms. Yet that voice kept popping into his mind. He began to rationalize it, saying it would be an opportunity to gain insights he didn’t have before, and inevitably… Brian stuck his head out of his locker. “Well?” Finn bit his lip before speaking. “I don’t have anything else to do tomorrow, so…” He pulled out his own shirt, bracing himself for what he was about to say. “Sure. I mean… Yeah. I’d like to see what you got.” Brian grinned. “Sick. Think we could do some time in the afternoon or something?” Finn stared off into the distance. “Yeah…” There was a strange sense of obligation motivating his choices that he couldn’t explain. Was this the right choice? — Tossing and turning in bed once again, Finn was feeling feverish. No matter whether he pulled off his blanket or not, there was a warmth building inside, and he was on the verge of sweat. He couldn’t sleep like this. He got up, feeling tiredness under his eyes, yet empowered by his racing mind. Brian’s words, in retrospect, were too suspicious. Between his sudden friendship with him and his way-too-influential perspectives on things, Brian was acting on his own agenda. He had to have some kind of connection with the Green Wave, right? Venturing out of his bedroom into the dim common area, Finn opened up his old laptop and flicked on one of his lamps. With its fans whirring to life indicated it was booting up, he took his time to enter the kitchen and picked up another green Gamma Labs bottle. He had to admit it was starting to taste good to him. Two in a day wouldn’t hurt, right? Returning to his laptop, Finn wasted no time in diving into research — this time, into Brian Watson. However, TikKot, Pinstergram, Britter, ConnectOn, hell even dinosaur platform Facebook had little to offer or illuminate about the man. Finn thought that maybe he was just overreacting — but in the post-digital age, it made no sense that someone like Brian would practically be a ghost online. There was little trace of any activity, which Finn did not expect at all. “What are you hiding?” Finn muttered to himself as he combed through dozens of mundane posts, the newest being uploaded over a year ago. He had no patience for this and decided to move onto more pressing matters. And those pressing matters were about to make him angry, as the Phelps’ Gym website was NOT user-friendly at all. The broken website was poorly designed, looking like it was made decades ago — during the Avengers era! — but struggled to balance its dated aesthetic with its attempts at modern involvement. There were dozens of pages to jump into, but Finn couldn’t find the membership sign up at all. “Maybe it’d be better to just go in person… Wait!” Finn scrolled down from the home page and scoffed. There it was, a plain text link indicating a place to sign up, pushed all the way to the bottom of the page. Finn laughed at the continued incompetence of these meatheads, but his expression dropped when he noticed what was right under it: that damn Intelligencia logo. Finn’s heart dropped as his expression twisted. How is something like Intelligencia involved with a stupid small-scale gym chain? The gears in his brain were turning once again, and Finn couldn’t help but scour through the entire website, trying to find any inkling of information. When even clicking the logo yielded no information, Finn dove deeper. The company’s public archives, business filings, anything. Absentmindedly draining the bottle of his Gamma Labs drink, Finn opened a new document to fill with new information about the gym. His 15 minute cyberstalking had quickly turned into over two hours worth of online research, wandering into the darkest parts of the internet. And in his folly, he had come across a treasure trove of leaked documents that went beyond just Intelligencia Holdings’ strange dealings. “Experiments on mental modification using subliminal techniques, serums and formulas based on the DNA of the Hulk…” His rapidfire typing only made the new discovery of information more intense, unloading it all into the document on his computer. “Jesus Christ… These people are insane!” Implications stemming from this discovery hadn’t yet occurred to him, his empty Gamma Unlock shake bottle sitting on the corner of his dining room table. It would never come up in his mind, as just as he found a whole new slew of undeciphered documents on the Dark Web detailing some kind of large-scale plan for apparent ‘recruitment,’ his computer itself went completely dark. “What?” Finn’s feverish rush had now started slowing down, his signature feeling of panic arising once again. Repeated clicking and keyboard hits didn’t do anything, and even though the screen was all black, it had a soft glow indicating it was still somehow on. On the 30th hit of the space bar, something finally appeared on his screen. A look of horror came across Finn’s face as an icon of a skull with crossbones popped up in all red before revealing his desktop. Then, a pop up smack dab in the middle of the screen. Any attempt to remove it failed. “‘Thanks for visiting Parah’s Leaked Docs. If you’d like to keep reading or keep your files, you must send 0.15 BTC to this address’?” Finn read aloud. “‘All files from the past 14 days have been encrypted and will be effectively deleted until we receive payment.’ Fuck, no!” He was lucky enough to be able to still navigate his computer, but going back to where the document was supposed to be saved revealed that all his files on the Gamma Project were in fact gone. “No… No, no, no…” He hurriedly checked his recycle bin, and spent a few minutes looking through every folder he could. “No, no… NO! FUCK!” The panic and anxiety in his chest was starting to burn. No, it wasn’t anxiety at all… Finn slammed his laptop closed with a kind of viciousness he’d never expressed before. “All of my fucking work… Jesus fuck… It’s all… GONE!” He slammed a fist into his table, surprised at the relief he felt in spite of the anger beginning to bubble over inside him. “STUPID fucking website…” Finn was seeing red. He could barely think. He could barely talk. He could hear the blood in his ears pumping hard and faster, if the rough beating in his chest wasn’t enough. Gritting his teeth he almost growls, before getting up and chucking his laptop to the ground. “Stupid fucking LAPTOP.” Something was telling him there was something wrong. He doesn’t get angry. He doesn’t get pissed at a little computer virus. He doesn’t show his anger. But that was superseded by the voice in the back of his head goading him on, asking him to let out his anger, tempting him with the pure satisfaction of unleashing everything he’s ever contained on the inside. Unable to control himself, he jumped up and started punching his chair, knocking out its frame and kicking it down. He wasn’t seeing red, he was seeing green, just like Banner — no, just like the Hulk. He deserved a little release. “I’m fucking better than those internet hermits…” Finn felt desperate to get out of his clothes. He deserved more than just release. “Who the fuck do they think they are, messing with a motherfucker like me— agh!” His vision blurred as a sharp pain hit behind his eyes, causing him to cover his eyes, applying light pressure. It wasn’t long before all his muscles started to feel like they were burning, much more intense than how he’s been feeling after his workouts. Finn felt like his body was on fire, tingling reaching every nerve, but as he finally removed his hands from his eyes, revealing his brown eyes had become a bright, radioactive, toxic light green, there was something he didn’t expect about the sensation. He liked it. Letting his uncontrollable, raw, primal anger take hold of his personality, Finn moaned as he stepped away from the table but fell to the ground in a sudden spell of dizziness. He was breathing heavily, trying to calm his fast beating heart, but his hand felt strange as he rested it on his chest. It felt swollen. Thicker. Bigger. He tried to feel his own hands, which felt tougher and more calloused. “What the fuck… What is…” Another soft moan suddenly escaped his lips as a wave of energy, pain, and pleasure rocked his being. Even the smallest shift intensified the feeling. So much so that he didn’t even realize his shirt was much tighter than it was just moments ago. The euphoric feeling made his eyes roll to the back of his head as his cock stiffened in his shorts. Finn’s hands rolled into fists as he punched into the floor, cracking the apartment’s cheap tile. He looked at his hands with shock and awe before realizing a green patch of skin appearing along his knuckles, quickly spreading across his hands and past his wrist. He couldn’t process it at first, but as he recalled that documentary featuring Dr. Banner, it became abundantly clear what was happening. “I’m Hu—” He coughed as his throat became scratchy. “I’m… I’m HULKing… Out…” His voice began to crack as it oscillated between his normal human timbre and a deep, beastly, brutish tone. Finn looked up at the mirror hanging by the dining room table, the same one that revealed to him his own eyes going green that morning, that he so foolishly dismissed. This time, his eyes were glowing, unchanging, locked onto his growing silhouette beginning to resemble Brian more than it resembled himself. Those eyes. Those glowing green eyes. Why did it only make him more horny? The intern stumbled upward, hunched forward, to try to get a better look, but groaned once more as he could feel his legs stretch upward, pushing him taller. His neck cracked as it thickened, traps rising upward as if he’d been doing pull ups for years, his shoulders broadening and growing gamma green boulders as delts, his arms bulging with biceps that rivaled the size of his head and triceps that looked like they were carved from marble. “Ugh… Ungh… FUCK!” Every conscious part of his being attempted to fight the feeling, resisting the urge to relish the feeling of his muscles finally beginning to swell, just like Banner would. But everything that Brian had told him, all the words he’d absorbed from those TikKot videos, all the aspirations of ‘true’ masculinity popped up in his head. “On beast mode…” He huffed out. “Bigger… Stronger… BETTER.” It had barely registered to Finn that he wasn’t ‘losing control’ of himself like Banner. It felt like he was even more in control than ever before. Still hunched over, he flexed and stretched his back — leading to a loud RRRIP as his shirt gave way to his widening back, revealing a new muscular V shape to his torso, getting more pronounced by the second as his lats flared. It wasn’t long after that he forced his biceps to BURST through his sleeves, completely destroying his shirt. Finn’s anxiety was no more, but so was his rage. That unfettered, primal rage had faded, replaced by the feeling of pure POWER. He started to chuckle as he pulled his shirt off his body, revealing his ballooning pecs and abs bigger and more defined than any washboard, topped off with a slight dusting of dark green hair on his emerald chest climbing down his abs and past his waistband. That waistband would soon become the next victim of his hulkout. His insatiable boner couldn’t take confinement anymore. With a quick flex of his now huge thighs, the seams of his shorts finally burst open, revealing chiseled, green, gamma-powered muscle that could crush skulls. His calves also grew impossibly large, continuing to stretch as his height grew far beyond that of Finn’s original 5’10” frame. Then his socks finally gave way, turning into nothing more than tattered white cotton, a failure to its purpose. Finn couldn’t take it anymore. His gamma cock was begging for release. With a swift motion, he snapped the waistband of his bloated boxers, finally allowing his engorged erection some room. “There we go,” he bellowed deeply. It was bigger than he ever remembered it being, looking closer to 10 inches than his puny 4, thicker and bulging with veins, like the rest of his muscles. A deep haze settled on his mind as his Hulk transformation finally came to an end. Finn was confused. He felt euphoric. He wasn’t himself. He felt more like himself than ever. He couldn’t think, but his purpose was clearer than ever. There was no trace of the messy-haired, scrawny, principled intern. No, standing in his place, flexing cockily and curiously in the mirror, a smirk plastered on his face, was a 7-foot gamma-powered emerald beast in his place, bigger and more muscled than ever before. The feeling of pure power and superiority were all on his mind, driving his thoughts and instinct. Finn was hulked out into a walking embodiment of the Green Wave’s idea of the Hulk. And he fucking loved it. And with his hard cock standing at attention, Finn had no time to think before the rest of the night became a blur.

“So, you somehow rented out the gym for an entire night? How did you manage this, Parker? I have to say that this would have had to be really expensive, right?” “Uh, no? I know the gym owner, so he made up a story about how the gym needed to close for a couple of days to take care of a few things that needed renovated or something like that. Something about fixing the showers or updating some of the machines. It was a very convincing story I thought. Most, if not all, of the members believed it. I would have believed it too.” “Yeah, I did read that on Tiktok and Bluesky. I don’t get why we would need the entire gym to ourselves though. This makes me incredibly nervous, and I wonder if I can fully trust you. You have tried to trick your friends before.” “You have known me for literally 12 years Vik. Besides, you had to know that the reason why I met you here at the gym was because I am a sports scientist, and I have been working on ways to enhance the gym going experience.” Vikram stares at Parker glassy-eyed and realizes why he is there. “OH! No no no no... no... Parker, I didn’t sign up for this. You know how I feel about those experimental projects you have been working on with Kyson. I have no interest in becoming a guinea pig for you or him.” Parker grabs his arm and nervously giggles as he stops him from trying to move towards one of the gym exits. “Vik...I... uh...well I admit that I have sort of dreamt about you becoming a huge, hunky, Indian hulk on more than one occasion. Besides, don’t you remember how much fun we had spending time together at the beach a few months ago? All the big muscle that passed us by there.” Vik sighs as he relaxes just a bit and is then embraced by Parker. The two men stand there hugging each other for a couple of minutes as Vik then surprisingly leans in to kiss his friend’s lips. Parker caresses his Indian friend’s soft black beard before they finally separate. “See...you know how much we like each other. I just want to turn you into my beautiful musclebound beefcake, Vik. You are already so handsome and... uh...I just have this thought to see you...” “You will have to do it too then Parker. I will be extremely pissed off if you do this to me and don’t reciprocate on yourself. This is your insane plan to turn me into a freak and well...I also have to admit that I have this fantasy of you experimenting on yourself with a growth formula.” Parker laughs and kisses Vikram on the lips again. They walk to the back offices together and go into one of the rooms to continue their conversation. “Are you wearing your workout clothes Vik? Here is what I am wearing.” The scientist takes his button-up shirt off and is wearing a white tank top. He then takes his dress pants off and is wearing black gym shorts. He already has sneakers on and is showing that he is well-toned but isn’t greatly developed. Vik sighs again as he takes his own button-up shirt off and is wearing a blue tank. He slowly takes his jeans off and is wearing matching gym trunks, showing off his skinny legs and torso. He is wearing loafers, which makes Parker giggle. “Well, I guess that was probably smarter to wear than what I have on.” “I wasn’t entirely sure what to wear. This was my best guess considering what I thought would be just a regular gym session. I didn’t know that you were going to test one of your concoctions on me.” “It isn’t a concoction silly.” He pulls four vials out of the desk in the office. Vikram stares at them in jest. “Four? How many of us were you planning on trying this out on Parker?” He laughs as he puts them back in the drawer and pulls out a single unlabeled bottle from the same drawer. “I just wanted to see your reaction to them. Those are actually vials of GH. The gym owner has those in his desk for himself. I put my secret stash in here as well. This bottle is what I have been working on. They are just capsules, but they have stuff in them that nobody will be consuming except us...and possibly a couple lucky growers.” “Pills? Really? That isn’t what I was expecting. I figured you were going to jab me with something. Well at least that is a relief.” “Yeah, the stuff in these capsules is activated once your hormones begin to travel through your system. In other words, you can expect things to happen if you get aroused or amped up by working out.” “Aroused? Well then you need to take the first one then. I will certainly respond once I see you start growing.” The scientist unlocks the cap and plops two of the pills in his hand. He points to one of them and has Vikram take it. He then quickly flips the remaining capsule into his mouth and swallows it before locking the bottle. He remembers to get two small bottles of water out for them. The thin Indian doesn’t put it in his mouth yet. “Open your mouth, Parker.” “Damn, you are paranoid Vik.” He opens up and shows that it isn’t hidden anywhere before closing his mouth. He even opens one of the water bottles to drink it. “Down it goof. I did what you wanted me to.” “Fuck, I feel like I am being used by you, but for some reason I feel like you are confident that this would work if you took it.” Vikram puts the pill in his mouth and swallows it while also guzzling water. He is now leaning against his friend and seems more relaxed now that they have proceeded with this. Parker has his right arm around his back and is holding him against him. “Heh, here I was expecting you to get more worked up, but now you are calming down. I am not sure it will work if you stay this way.” “I am just glad that you are being real with me Parker. Do I have to do something to make you, you know...get beautiful?” Parker lightly punches him in the gut and makes a few ‘hmmphs’ as he lets go of Vikram and starts walking back into the main gym. The Indian follows behind him and grins at him. The scientist then turns around and starts to moan. “Maybe you don’t deserve me if I am beautiful mister...mmm...oh yeah...this stuff is already starting to work...” He points down at his legs as they begin to swell. The muscle fibers quickly thicken as his quads and hamstrings stretch his shorts to their limits. He reaches down to rub on his cock as it also starts to grow. His breathing intensifies as his excitement accelerates, feeling his pecs and arms squeaking as they begin to expand as well. He can see that Vikram is becoming entranced by what is happening to him and fully expects his friend to lose control of his inhibitions at any moment. “Ah Vik...I really had no clue that this would be so incredibly intoxicating. The hormones are flooding my mind and my muscles. MMM...you are entirely responsible for this you know that? I can’t imagine myself ever going back to the way I looked before this started.” Parker grunts in delight as he watches his biceps and triceps swelling bigger and squeezes his forearms with both of his hands, feeling them bulging with power. His pecs are now stretching his tank to the point that there is now a huge gap in between the fabric and each impressive mound. Vikram can feel things stirring within himself, but he is groaning, trying desperately to stay in control of his current self, watching in earnest as his friend continues to hulkout. “OH YEAH BABY! I am becoming a fucking huge alpha beast. I need to turn around to look at myself transforming Vik.” The growing beast turns to stare directly into the mirrors and begins flexing. The pump is enough for his shorts to rip all the way up to his waist as his big cock flops out and stands erect towards the mirror. His huge bubble butt has now freed itself and is making Vikram moan deeply as the Indian tries to keep his own manhood from escaping from his trunks. Parker has now ripped his gym shorts completely off and thrown them onto a nearby bench. His tank top tears in multiple places from the back as he grunts loudly feeling his immense chest do the same from the front. He pulls it off and bounces his huge beefy melons for several seconds, also studying his defined face and running his hands all over his thick manly mounds and his blocky six pack. He can feel himself getting ready to cum. “Vik...baby...I love my muscles so much that I am going to...AHH!” Parker blasts the mirrors with his massive load, showering them numerous times and shouting in pleasure as he lustfully stares back at his Indian friend at the same time, making sure that he is still eyeing him. He finishes unloading and turns back around to walk over to the Indian. “It is your turn mister. Oh...erraagghh...” He grunts as his feet finally emerge from his sneakers. “Ha, I completely forgot I was wearing those. I put on so much mass that these shoes felt like nothing against my feet.” He puts both of his hands on Vikram’s face and rubs on his beard slowly. He can feel his friend trembling from the excitement and nervousness. The hunky white beast then leans in to squeeze his huge pythons along his partner’s sides and picks the Indian up in his arms. “Look at me Vik. Am I beautiful to you now? I look and feel so fucking huge, and I want you to do the same. I crave a big, luscious, olive-skinned beast.” “Err Parker...I can feel it building up so much inside me...I can’t stop it any more...I can only think about...OHH...GROW...ING...” The white beast moans as he feels his friend starting to expand in his arms. Vikram’s lower half rapidly expands as it forces Parker to let go of him as the Indian lands on the floor. His loafers explode off his feet and go flying into the walls. His gym trunks can do very little to contain the big uncut power tool that is now arching its way down Vikram’s massively expanding right quad. He stares into the white beast’s eyes and laughs as he feels the growth moving into his upper body. His loose blue tank is now being filled with thick furry mounds of flesh popping out from every crevice of the Indian’s frame. He can feel his biceps and triceps inflating as he turns his attention to them and can’t believe that they are growing as big as they are. The thick garden hose veins on each arm stretching from his wrists all the way up to his shoulders makes him start leaking on the floor. Parker is now brushing up against Vikram and is rubbing his partner’s thick man meat. “YES VIK! You are becoming the dreamboat I have always wanted to be with. I want you so much.” The olive beast grunts in delight as his trunks finally rip off his mammoth quads and pelvis as he grabs Parker and wraps his huge hairy cannons around him to pull him into his swelling chest. “RRAARR...I knew this would turn me into a dom... I could feel it deep within me. I am going to stretch that hot hole of yours Parker and you won’t want anyone else.” “Oh yeah baby...push that big, beautiful beast inside me. I want you to fill me up hairy daddy.” As he manages to separate the white beast’s huge quads to start sliding his cock inside his partner, Vikram sighs as his blue tank top surrenders to his incredible size, shredding under the weight of his immense man cleavage and his rock hard eight pack. Parker yells in pleasure feeling his friend penetrating him forcefully and reveling in the Indian’s amazing thickness. “I have wanted to top you for years Parker. Mm...” Vikram licks his lips as he feels Parker’s hole hugging his huge 11-inch beast like a glove. It has been one of his goals since the two men started taking things up a notch just a few months prior. They have now moved over to one of the workout benches as the Indian beast flips Parker onto his back, lifts his legs up in the air and sits them on his massive chest, and grunts as he positions himself over top of the white beast and growls as he pushes his thick rod all the way in. “OH, FUCKING YES VIK...” “You are my huge hunky power bottom Parker. I have so much milk in these huge balls of mine for you to consume. I am going to pound you so hard...mmm...then, I want to shower you in my thick load and watch as you smother yourself in my gorgeous body.” The huge hulking olive beast yells as he grips Parker’s thick calves and thrusts in and out of his lover. Feeling his cum flowing into his cock after several minutes of intense fucking and the sweat pouring off both hulks, he pulls out of the white bodybuilder and lets his seed start to coat his partner in waves. “OH FUCK YEAH DADDY! Feed me that load!” “RRAARRHH...MMM...open that beautiful mouth Parker. He wants to be drained properly by a hungry mouth.” Vikram sits him up and shoves his big beautiful uncut furry cock in Parker’s face as it continues to squirt its juicy milk all over him. He slowly opens his lips as it slides down his throat. He shutters in pleasure as he gets very acquainted with it. His thick neck muscles flex as the Indian beast moans staring down at his lover as he begins swallowing his wet goo. “AHH...I am in love with you hunky white beast. I feel like I could cum for days.” Parker pulls his thick snake out to look up at him and smiles. “Well, you know I would gladly play with this gorgeous beast for eternity, Vik.” He lovingly strokes him, making the huge olive hulk grunt in pleasure. He picks Parker up off the bench and locks his lips on his lover’s. The two beasts moan loudly as they massage each other passionately, squeezing their muscles together and giggling in delight. They both are reveling in the intoxicating scent in the air that they have created from their fluids and their musk. “MMM...we smell fucking good daddy. This place has been christened by both of us as the growth gym.” Vikram agrees as Parker caresses his partner’s huge hairy chest and lays his head on the Indian’s massive pec shelf as they stand there together. They both turn their heads at the same time and notice that they have a bystander, who has dropped their gym bag on the floor. “WHAT THA...is that...you Parker? And... WOW...is this your friend Vikram?” “Ah, hello there Gregg. I can’t thank you enough for allowing us to use your establishment here to further develop...my studies...and to...well...I think you see that it has been successful, right?” “Uh...oh yeah guys. You are both looking freaking huge...and mmm...it smells really ripe in here as well.” The older man starts moaning under his breath as he takes in the manly vapors that have permeated the gym floor. He is the gym’s owner, judging by his polo with the gym’s name on it in green and gray letters. He is wearing a pair of jean shorts that show off his nicely toned legs and is wearing sock shoes. The bald, mustachioed, 49-year-old is now running his hands along his chest, as he feels his pecs starting to inflate, his nipples stretching the fabric and making his cock twitch as it begins to form a giant outline along the left side of his shorts. The two beasts are now encouraging his muscles to keep growing. “OH YEAH GREGG! We could both use another beast to come and join us.” “MMM...yeah what Parker said. Hulkout for us big daddy!” “GRR...yeah, I have been hungering to get bigger boys. Make me blow up so I can join your party here.” Gregg grunts in delight as his feet tear through his shoes and his swelling quads start to strain the fabric on his shorts. He especially loves the feeling of his upper body testing the limits of his shirt as he flexes his expanding biceps and grins as he watches them continue to inflate. “MMM...all those supplements were such a fucking waste of time...I could have just waited until now to...AHH...it feels so fucking GOOD. My cock is getting so fat and veiny.” The middle-aged man looks down and sighs as his cock starts ripping its way out of his shorts. It swells even bigger as he feels it twitch and shoot several ropes of cum across the room. The two other hulks moan in delight as they continue to watch Gregg growing. He moans louder as his swelling biceps and triceps make loud stretching noises. The veins pulse and expand to twice their size. He strokes his big tool as they walk over to get an even better look at him. “Yeah, beast man, get huge. Me and the Indian hulk are hungry for some more muscle and milk, right Vik? “You better fucking believe I am ready for more, Parker.” They both get down on their knees and start messing with Gregg’s big cock as he feels his shorts give way, releasing his thick tree trunk-sized quads from their prison as well as his expanding ass, which Vik has taken a liking to. The bald beast looks down at both of them and laughs as his pecs start to rip his polo. The sound of the fabric tearing excites all three of them as they leak profusely. Parker and Vikram take turns slurping on Gregg’s veiny shaft. “OH, FUCK BOYS! Daddy Gregg has some more spunk he can share. There is so much power raging in these muscles too, appreciative of what you have done for them. I can’t think you both enough for this.” Both beasts savor the older man’s thick frothy load as they take turns gulping it down as Gregg marvels at how quickly he is able to destroy his polo with his back and chest. His thick abs heave in delight as he greedily rips his top off and slings it to the side. He starts flexing his huge round biceps and wide chest when Vikram gets up off his knees and starts lovingly punching him in his gut, making him react in delight. Parker also gets up off the floor after finishing his cock meal and looks into Gregg’s eyes, petting the older beast’s thick furry chest, and then moans as he leans down to lock his mouth on the gym owner’s huge left pec. Vikram is now trying to maneuver himself in between Gregg’s massive glutes with his bloated brown cock. Gregg is laughing as he attempts to do so as the three beasts enjoy themselves immensely. Unbeknownst to all three of these hulks, another man has quietly entered the gym from a back entrance and has ventured into Gregg’s office. He quickly put his briefcase down on the floor, along with a gym bag that he brought with him. He can hear them down the hall moaning and groaning with each other and can smell their vapors. It is Kyson, the Spanish-born lab partner of Parker’s, and he is intensely shy. The man unfortunately is unprepared for what he is about to experience. Still wearing the dress clothes that he put on at the beginning of the day, he had just left the lab where he was working on more research for another project he was going to present to Parker in a few days. He is inhaling the intense man scent of each of the beasts, and it is already making him feel a bit excited. “MMM...Parker has done it this time. I had no idea it would be...so...ahh...” He can feel his legs and arms expanding beneath the fabric of his shirt and pants. He goes into one of the other rooms in the back and notices that there are mirrors everywhere in the room, so he gets even more pumped up. He moans watching himself growing as his chest starts swelling as well. The stretching sounds coming from his muscles is making his cock leak profusely as he stares at himself in the mirrors. “Ahh...this is something that I always thought was a pipe dream. Now...mmm...heh...it is really happening...” He can feel his feet getting ready to burst through his dress shoes as his expanding quads start ripping the seams on his pants. He can also feel his triceps doing the same to his white button-up shirt. He greedily puffs his chest out and grins as it starts testing the limits of the front. He reaches down to run his right hand along the thick outline of his Spanish cock and his left along the contours of his growing pecs and sighs. “Mmhmm...yyeess...the amount of testosterone and adrenaline pumping through me is so intoxicating...” Kyson watches his face become enveloped in a reddish-brown layer of fur, which is also making him smile. He can feel his ass and back muscles swelling to the point that they are about to emerge at any second from their confines. Interestingly, he feels like he can control the growth now and is savoring the feelings in his head. He looks down at his shoes as his growing toes start tearing through his shoes. “AHH...I love it so much. I could easily fall in love with myself with all of this...mmm...heh...okay I guess you can be free...” The Spanish-American feels his huge biceps tearing through his sleeves as his glutes shred the back of his pants. His cock is getting extremely hard, as it prepares to rip itself out. He moans as he slowly lifts his arms, hearing more seams ripping along the sides of his shirt as his thickening lats begin to flare outward. His pits are filling to capacity with thick fur, which is quite visible to him in the mirrors. He grunts, flexing his huge biceps as they destroy even more of the sleeves, both arms now entirely exposed. He puts his arms back down to his side as he feels his chest starting to blast the top buttons on his top in the mirrors. “YUM! OH yeah...they are getting so big and beautiful...ahh...I think I have really huge fucking abs too...” His swelling neck and traps are now tearing seams as he looks on and stares intensely as his big, swollen pecs launch even more buttons into the mirrors and are now exposed. His big Spanish cock frees itself as his pants start to fall down his huge lower half. It throbs wildly as he continues to look on at his chest as it heaves, drenched in sweat. He rubs each round furry mound in pleasure while also running his fingers along each one of his big cascading abdominal slabs. “I am so fucking beautiful. MMM...seeing myself hulking out like this makes me want to...” “Want to what, Kyson?” Unknowingly, his beastly business partner has sneaked in behind him to catch the last parts of his transformation. Parker is now slowly wrapping his huge arms around the Spanish beast as he leans in to kiss him on his neck. The other two hulks enter the room a couple of minutes later to join them. Parker tears the rest of Kyson’s shirt off as he finds his Spanish partner’s hole and begins to enter him with his huge pole. The Spanish beast moans in delight as he gets tons of attention from behind. Vikram is now starting to give him attention from the front. “Whoa, you are freaking gorgeous. If I had to pick...well...let me just have some fun.” The huge Indian is now starting to suck on Kyson’s huge pecs as he vigorously strokes the Spaniard’s big cock. Gregg is standing beside them and is massaging everyone’s huge muscles as he gets ready to get off again. Will the chain continue to grow if more guys enter the gym during this time? I have no doubt what the answer would be, do you know?

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

When next part??

I wonder if this is going to be a snuff story. Gasoline? Ben is out to kill Sam, or at least torture him or disable him to the point Sam has to stop and lose all the muscle he gained under threat of painful death. Sam's reaction after this? Would probably be to thank Ben for making him the monster he was now then unceremoniously dumping him instead by disabling him to the point he has to stop gaining muscle.

I was not expecting this plot twist! So fucking hot reading about Ben abusing gear and getting even bigger than Sam, I love when the "bad guy" grows huge. 100% team Ben here

Interesting direction! Not one but TWO mass monsters! Looking forward to the next chapter (and updated stats for both) lickety split!

Ben's psychotic craze for size might cause Sam to double his efforts in size, to the point where tranquilizer darts won't be enough.

Team Sam

I’m Team Ben…

I love me some fanfiction.!

More please. Nice to see other perspectives

Ok guys, this is just a chapter that inspired me this wonderful story, they are chapters let's say....behind the scenes....what happens to the characters that we haven't been told, can you tell me what you think? Of course if you don't like it I won't make any more but here's my contribution! Uncle Ryan - Extra Cap 01 - Ben 01 Ben looked at his reflection in the mirror. “Gonna have fun tonight,” he thought to himself as he looked at his big, better, harder new body. what had happened after his visit to his brother Ryan and his son had changed his life forever. It had already been two weeks since he returned from his trip. At first he felt like he was collapsing over what had happened. Karen, his wife had reacted very differently than he expected. He had put on a shirt of his brother Rayan that he no longer used but which was tight and well outlined on his powerful torso, leaving nothing to the imagination, his hairy chest emerged with every breath from the V-neck, demonstrating how massive and powerful he was now. his exposed arms full of veins were barely above the triceps, with sleeves that seemed to depend on his powerful shoulders and which with each movement rose a little more, dangerously close to tearing, As if that wasn't enough, the sweatpants Ryan had given him seemed to hug his full, round ass and taut thighs like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. He also noticed that two or three ladies at the airport had been eyeing him all the way from the exit to his SUV, not to mention the guy who had followed him to the bathroom who he could swear had seen bathing in his crotch once Ben in front of the mirror he had pulled up his shirt to check his abdomen as hard as a brick wall! "What the hell...!" - was the expression with which Karen reacted when she saw the man who looked like her husband but decidedly more like a comic book hulk come back in, so large hat she barely even recognized him! ""...but what...what happened to you Ben?!?!" a redhead asked the embarrassed big man in front of her who evidently wasn't expecting this reaction. "Honey..." he began to try to explain what that trip had meant and how it had profoundly changed him, trying to hug her but instead feeling pressure on his shirt that felt a loud RIIIP from his back, too wide and powerful to be contained by it anymore. "..don't you dare call me that...that was my husband's nickname...not this.....this.....monster!" - Karen's words came to Ben with a mixture of heaviness and annoyance. after all he was better now than the man who had left! Seeing the tear that is forming on the back of his shirt and hearing those words, Ben felt his anger rise, he took the shirt by the neckline and tore it away, as if it were a card sheet from a gift, he was surprised and at the same time he was sickened by it, from that mixture of power, erotic and liberation! "BEN!" Karen shouted "...but what do you think....oh my god....look at you....you're...you're disgusting!" - Ben still looked at the remains of the shirt in his hands, a smile forming on his lips mixed with lust and pleasure, for what he had just done..."Karen....my love...I...I..." - he tried to start again... but again he was interrupted by Karen: "Not a single word! I don't know what happened at your brother's place, I know that crazy guy has always been obsessed with the gym....horrible....really disgusting... but I want you to stop it immediately! .. .You're disgusting too!" at these umpteenth words Ban felt a surge of anger and pride inside, he felt like a volcano was about to explode, his chest swelled and expanded with every breath, his gaze became harder, veins began to swell on his arms and on his chest also visible through his mantle of salt-pepper hair that covered that chiseled and massive trunk! He moved his arm against the block, driving his huge fist in! continuing to look at his wife, now clearly upset. Karen was truly intimidated by her husband for the first time. Ben's gaze then softened, and he said, "Karen, sweetie, I like what happened to me, I like myself this way." the wife wasn't sure what to say....her husband just a week ago was a weak compliant little man who obeyed her every word....now she was faced with a determined, determined, massive muscular monster that she had no intention of doing what she had ordered. "...you like yourself like this...what...what do you mean?...that you won't stop?...that maybe..." Karen said, even more shocked as the minutes passed. "No. I won't stop with the weights, on the contrary....I really think that from today onwards I will continue this path, I like it, and I want more"... thus saying absentmindedly I pass my right hand, freed from the hole in the wall I'm still dirty with plaster and dust, on his massive chest, feeling it, savoring its size and strength, squeezing his left thigh with my left hand, flexing it for even more power. "...I want to be even more disgusting, honey." - Karen gasped at what she saw, her husband was adoring himself before her eyes, and she wanted more of it. in a certain sense she...did she...like it? No! it was not possible! It wasn't right! He was so disgusting! "Ben! Stop it! I...I'll leave if you keep going like this....oh keep going....I meant stop it!" The new Ben had seen the look of lust with which his wife had been observing him since he had shown his power, it was no longer the weak well, but a new and better well. and he liked it. He slowly approached his wife, intimidated by this muscular monster, asking her to accept what had now been decided and which would only get better, bigger, bigger, stronger. "No!...go away....I'm going away! I can't....you're....you're...so hot..NO!..I meant so disgusting! I have to go! "...she said moving away from Ben, biting her lower lip, her heart was beating fast...but why?!?!..."I'm leaving! she said heading towards the door...hesitating and staggering....this did not escape Ben who replied: "Ok Karen, go ahead...I will always be here...more disgusting than ever!...like this saying he made a most mucular, contracting his entire body, full of tension, anger and testosterone, emitting a low deep animal growl, which expresses everything, like a primordial bestial roar that finally freed the new and improved man from all the constraints that he had suffered over the years and accepted from his wife, as if he wanted to free himself from everything, causing his sweatpants to tear along the edges and on the front, showing off even more muscle than Karen could handle! "..OMG..." - was the last sentence he heard from his wife as she left with a mix of panic and lust, in an evident state of pleasure, given the puddle of vaginal fluid, which she left behind her. So this new path begins for Ben, finishing looking in the mirror and picking up his gym bag, now remembering it he could say that perhaps he could have acted, done or said different things. But he wouldn't have given up on the new self anyway. the memory of that moment had hardened Ben's virility, his display of strength, his domination over an obsessive and pressing wife, the sensation of mass and power. He dropped his gym bag and raised his arms, flexing his huge biceps on either side of his head. As he moved his head to the side to examine the mountains that jutted out on each arm, Ben seemed intoxicated by his own muscularity. As he stared at the massive pecs, layered abs and bulging arms, and could feel his cock twitch in response and wanting release from the prison of his jockstrap, this excited him even more and he flexed his massive chest. savoring the new dimension, the true essence of the animal he was becoming, the beast that wanted to be freed. Her cock getting harder, leaving drops of precum on the floor, “All This Hair, All These Muscles! I know STRONG!!! Bigger, BIGGER! PUMP ME GRR! GRRAHH” seeming to almost expand with every flex, like he was pumping his muscle's bigger and thicker growing right before his eye's! A huge bubble butt watching it be penetrated by the huge fingers hearing him groan even louder as he fingered the giant muscle crack. -well started rubbing his own cock watching hinself continue plowing his ass with his hand, spreading his stance further and further apart making the two gigantic cum filled balls come into view between the colossal legs. He gazed up and down the two pillars of muscle 's holding up the monster size frame getting down to the floor where a empty syringes standing next to his giant's feet. “UHHHH” - Ben roaring moan of pleasure watching him pull his hand out of his ass watching him bend over hearing a strange slurping noise. The mirror Ben 's cum covered face eating what looked like cups of sperm from his own hands rubbing it all over his body, squirting out more and more from the huge testicles. “MMm Fuck So Hot, Gonna Get So Massive, I will Be the BIGGEST!” it was so raunchy and hot at the same time. watching practically himself in the mirrr buck his ass of him wildly moaning louder and louder rubbing a wad of his man juice up his huge muscular crack of him suddenly shooting a massive load of cum on the mirror covering his reflection of him. Well let out an almost evil smile. He watched his muscled out self of him wipe some more of the cum off the mirror eating as much as he could, suddenly heading over to his bed reaching into the bag pulling out another syringe about to shoot up, it's gym time, remind himself, recovering from the lust of his new self.It's time to show what I can do, my true power Now it's time to get really huge, like his brother Ryan.

As Sam and Joe showed Hank’s dad the inside of the barn, he said he could see why his boy liked it here. He stopped to look over the boxing ring and said, “This reminds me of my days as a pro wrestler.” “You were a pro wrestler?” Joe said, wide eyed with awe. Plus, he couldn’t imagine anyone climbing into the ring with such a monster of a man. “Yep,” said Hank senior. “I was fifteen when I knocked up a stripper from Atlanta, so I dropped out of school so I could pay for the kid.” “They let you wrestle at fifteen?” asked Sam. “Yeah, well, I was big for my age.” This was an understatement. By the time of his fifteenth birthday, he was already 6’3” and 235lbs, and was sporting a thick full beard. No one in the Georgia wrestling circuit ever asked his age. By the time he hit sixteen, he was 6’6”, 310lbs, and could pin any man on the roster. “I rassled for a couple years, but then my pa died and left me the farm, so I went home to run it. The farm has grown a lot since then. So have I,” he said with a laugh, as he patted on his protruding gut. What he didn’t mention was how he had grown so much. As the hog farm grew more and more profitable, he got his veterinarian to supply him with extra growth hormones that he used on himself. His size and strength ballooned, along with his ego and desire for more strength. In recent years, he’d been going to Indonesia to get a testosterone stimulating treatment that made his testes produce five times the test of a normal man. Now he had bull sized balls that were hard as iron and constantly churning out vast amounts of male hormone. Now, at thirty-seven, he was growing faster than an eighteen year old newbie. As they made their way over to the workout area, he led the way like the big bossman that he was. He noticed a loaded Olympic bar by the Smith machine. “We were just finishing up deadlifts when you pulled up,” explained Sam. “Joe was doing reps with the 860 pounds.” “That so?” said the giant farmer. “Not bad for a boy your size,” he said to Joe with a wink. Then he crouched down, grabbed the bar with an underhand grip, stood up with it, and started doing curls. He did reps with the bar like it was a broomstick. His massive triceps bulged out at the bottom of each rep. Joe’s knees wobbled at the sight, and he sat down on a nearby bench. The big boss’s arms swelled and swelled. He did twenty reps, then dropped the bar down, causing everything in the barn to jump an inch off the ground. He slapped each of his upper arms with the opposite hand. The sound of the slaps made Joe’s dick twitch. The big brute smirked in the mirror as he admired himself. “Bet they just grew another inch,” he said with satisfaction. Sam could see where Hank junior got his bravado. Outside the barn, Kurt and Hank pulled up. “Well, what have we here?” said Kurt, as he noticed the vanity plates on the big Maybach. “I didn’t think he’d actually come,” Hank said. “That’s a good thing, though, right?” “Um, sure,” answered Hank, unconvincingly, as he got out of Kurt’s truck. Kurt got out too, and they made their way to the barn. “Pa?” Hank hollered out. The three men at the back of the barn turned and headed up front. When Hank got a good look at his father, he said, “Jeezus Pa, you’re bigger than ever!” “You ain’t getting any smaller yourself, boy. Come give your old man a hug.” Hank obeyed and went up to his huge dad, who wrapped his massive arms around him and lifted him off the ground, squeezing hard, crushing his son against his giant, hairy chest. Hank grunted out as his ribcage compressed. Hank senior continued to squeeze. He linked his wrists against the small of Hank’s back and dug in harder. “Pa…fuck…I can’t breathe…” “Ah yeah, boy. No matter how big ya get, I’ll still be able to take you.” He clenched his arms together even harder. He shook his son back and forth. “Who’s the strongest man you know, boy?” His forearms bulged with power. “You are, Pa,” Standing behind the giant farmer, Sam couldn’t even see Hank junior past the sprawling back of the older man, who finally put his son down and swiped off his hands with self satisfaction. Hank went down on one knee, trying to get his breath back. “Maybe you should pick on someone closer to your size,” Kurt said. The massive farmer hooked his thumbs under his suspenders as he looked Kurt up and down. “You must be the sports guy. I was expecting you to be bigger.” Hank’s dad was 6” taller and 150lbs larger than Kurt. “Why don’t we step into the ring and see what you got?” “Works for me,” said Kurt. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. Hank senior unhooked the suspenders of his overhauls and let them drop off his huge shoulders. His enormous pecs seemed to billow out even more. “Why don’t we make it interesting?” he said. He turned and wrapped his arm around Sam’s neck and yanked him up beside him. “Let’s go two against one.” “You’re on,” Kurt said, answering for Sam, who looked like he was barely able to support the weight of the heavy arm that was pressing down on his big shoulders. The three men went over to the ring and climbed in, big, bigger, and biggest. The ring creaked under their combined weight. Hank senior took off his overalls, giving them their first look at his monstrous thighs and calves. His boxer briefs were gray with age and tattered from straining against all the bulk. “I usually limit my rassling these days to my prize hog, Brutus. Y’all ever grapple with a greased up 780lb angry pig? You should hear him squeal and squeal as I pin him down in the mud, or trap him in these legs. Can’t wait to hear what kinda noises you two fellas are gonna make.” With that, Kurt and Sam rushed the bigger man. They each grabbed a side, but the big hulk didn’t budge. He tossed them both off him and sent them flying into the ropes. Undeterred, they charged at him again. This time, the giant farmer charged back, outstretched his arms and clotheslined them square across their chests, flipping them 270 degrees in the air and onto their faces on the mat. Big Hank picked Kurt up and pressed him overhead and walked around the ring with him. Sam got up, and started punching the huge goon in his protruding, ridged roidgut. Hank looked down at him and said, “Those abs are over a foot thick of enhanced muscle, so gimme your best shots, cause I can’t even feel the ones you’re giving me now.” He stood there and let Sam work his solid abs. Sam punched on the solid gut ball over and over, harder and harder, but Hank just snorted. Sam might as well have been punching cast iron. Joe looked on with lust in his heart. He would have given his left nut to touch that protruding orb. When the huge farmer saw how he was looking at it with awe, he said, “Careful what ya wish for, little fella. I could crush your skull like a Georgia peanut with this gut.” Then he turned and readjusted his grip on Kurt, reared him back and threw him over the top rope and out of the ring. Then he grabbed Sam, twisted him around, lifted him up, and slammed him into a reverse chokehold and shook him back and forth hard. When Kurt stopped rolling across the floor of the barn, he crawled back into the ring. He ran at big Hank and shoulder tackled him right at the knees. The giant man toppled forward, right on top of Sam. Outside the ring, both Joe and Hank junior grimaced at the sound of Sam’s lungs deflating like bellows. The beast of a man rolled off Sam and onto his side, then went for Kurt. He moved remarkably fast for a behemoth, and Kurt didn’t move away from Hank’s monster quads fast enough. The huge tree trunks wrapped around him, trapping Kurt between two 49” hog-crushing thighs. Then the massive farmer locked his ankles together, and started to squeeze. His leg scissors hold was multiple times more powerful than his bearhug. Kurt grunted, and pounded his big fists into the monster thighs. Hank only chuckled. When Sam tried to get up, Hank pinned him back to the mat by pressing his index finger deep into Sam’s pec valley until it was pressing hard against his sternum. Sam struggled but couldn’t budge. “Say ‘uncle’, punks, and do it quick,” said Hank senior, as he applied more pressure with his giant thighs, and his dick-sized finger. Neither Sam nor Kurt could breathe from the immense pressure on their chests. Hank’s face bloated and reddened as he exerted more power. Veins snaked all over his hulking thighs. Suddenly, they all heard a muffled pop as one of Kurt’s ribs gave out. He stifled a cry of pain. Sam was starting to lose consciousness. Joe turned to Hank junior and said, “Do something.” That was all the motivation Hank needed to jump into the ring. He was sick of seeing his old man win at everything. He remembered all the times his juiced up pa would roughhouse with him around the house and the farm, always winning, and always taking it too far, making it hurt, telling Hank that he was just toughening him up. Now, the junior Hank wanted to see his cocky old man lose at something for once, even if it took three of them to do it. He angled behind his pa’s huge back, and applied his own chokehold around his old man’s massively developed neck. A normal man wouldn’t stand a chance of choking out that thick column of sinew, but Hank junior had been training his forearms extra hard with specialized equipment made for arm wrestling. He’d also been bending 2 1/4” rebar on a regular basis. He used that newfound muscle strength against his dad’s bullneck, and he felt it giving. So he squeezed harder. Hank senior lifted his finger off Sam’s chest and released his scissors. He stood up, with his son rear choking him. He tried to ply his son’s hold apart, to no avail. He jumped upward and threw himself onto his back, landing squarely on his son. The whole ring collapsed, the turnbuckles toppled inward, the ropes flopped loosely. Despite the full weight of his 700lb father landing on him, junior Hank not only held his chokehold, he tightened it. His father’s head nodded forward. Kurt crawled over and lifted the big man’s arm, and let it drop down with a thump. “He’s out, Hank,” Kurt said. But Hank just flared his nostrils as he tightened his grip. “Dude, stop,” Kurt said, more urgently. He put his hand on Hank junior’s arm. He couldn’t believe the titanic strength surging thru the musclebound arm. Hank only released his hold when Joe came over and said, “Bro, you did it. You took your old man down. That’s was awesome.” Hank pushed his old man off him like he was pushing over a rhino. His arms were throbbing and heavy. Kurt was holding the side of his ribcage. Sam was rubbing the contusion in the middle of his chest. The boxing ring was trashed. Hank senior came to quickly. He sat up and rubbed his welted neck as he looked around. “That was the most fun I’ve had since being a pro wrestler,” he said. “I told you I’d make a tough guy outta you, boy,” he said to his son. “Now who wants to go get something to eat?”

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 >>

I had the wonderful opportunity to work on a commission for mystery79, who wanted a wholesome muscle growth comic for their DeviantArt page (linked). I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of creating this piece as fresh ideas flowed continuously. If you're looking to have a captivating story crafted just for you or if you'd like to express your appreciation to the artist, feel free to tip a coffee at $creativecoffeeman. You can easily message me on Discord at czechhunter69#0839. For those who are simply here to enjoy the artwork, sit back, relax, and let the magic unfold! ------------------- Alex the muscle daddy next door As the summer sun beat down on the small town of Willowbrook, Brock wiped the beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Home on a break from college, he had taken up a job as a grocery bagger at the local market to help save up for the upcoming semester. The monotony of the job was broken when a familiar figure approached his checkout lane. There was something about the man that struck Brock as oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The man, probably in his mid-thirties, exuded an air of confidence and strength. His fiery red hair caught the sunlight, framing a face with rugged features and a perfectly groomed fiery red beard. Every inch of his muscular physique was accentuated by a tight-fitting shirt, emblazoned with the word "SECURITY" across his broad back. In this town, Brock had never seen a man this thick, so far from a gym - much less without a sweaty pump to justify that much fluffiness. As Brock diligently loaded his groceries into the back of his SUV, his attention couldn't help but wander to the striking figure waiting just outside the car. Every now and then, Brock would discreetly steal glances, catching the man's appreciative gaze fixed on him, as if he were a mouthwatering delicacy. As they both were enjoying the view. The brief connection of their eyes sent an electric jolt through Brock's body, leaving his cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. It was in that exhilarating moment that Brock finally recognized the man's identity—Alexander Olson, his childhood friend's father and his next-door neighbor. The realization left him momentarily speechless, awestruck by the transformation Alex had undergone. He hadn’t seen the man in years, much less spoke with him. Gone was the lanky figure he remembered; this Alexander exuded a captivating presence, one that left Brock feeling a mix of admiration and desire, leaving his mouth dry and thirsty in the heat. As Alexander prepared to drive away, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, reflecting in the rearview mirror, his lips curling into a playful smile. In a moment of tantalizing flirtation, he sent a sly wink Brock's way. Simultaneously, his hand discreetly dropping a crumpled piece of paper. The air crackled with intrigue, and Brock's heart raced with a mixture of exhilaration and nervous anticipation. Reacting swiftly, Brock's trembling hands descended to retrieve the fallen treasure. Carefully unfolding the paper, a crumpled business card, a handwritten message graced the surface, an endearing blend of disheveled scrawl and affectionate intent: "Hey cutie,” In that instant, a rush of emotions coursed through Brock's veins. His world seemed to tilt on its axis as he realized how much he didn’t care about who this man was. Alexander’s voluptuous body and playful gesture had stirred a dormant flame within Brock, igniting the possibility of a connection he never dared to imagine - the married dad next door. A whirlwind of emotions churned within Brock's stomach, leaving him both excited and apprehensive. The man who had been a constant presence throughout his childhood, had just flirted with him - and he liked it. Did Alex know who he was? As a junior in college, Brock was no stranger to the assumptions and labels cast upon him due to his youthful appearance - it’s often why a lot of guys his age didn’t bother with him. His gentle features and slender frame often led others to classify him as a Twink. Yet, holding Alexander's business card in his hand, he couldn't shake the feeling that there might be something more brewing, and certainly couldn’t wait to catch up. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Brock carefully tucked the business card into his pocket, weighing wether or not it was meant for him or what to do. The man was married! And his neighbor! With the warm breeze whispering through the rows of parked cars and the vibrant sounds of the bustling market filling the air, Brock stepped back inside to finished his shift before texting Alex the same message: “Hey cutie” In all honesty, he wanted to play it cool and go with the safe phrase of “Hey big guy”, but he also wanted Alex to know it was him. Brock and Alex's initial text exchanges flowed effortlessly - and to his surprise he wasn’t just imagining it Alex really did mean to drop his card for Brock. Alex was genuinely interested in Brock.The conversations gradually evolved, transitioning from playful banter to the exchange of revealing pictures. Alex's images showcased his muscular physique and dedication to fitness, while Brock hesitantly shared glimpses of his own vulnerability, encouraged by Alex's genuine interest - only to be accepted as he was. Alex loved a smaller, slimmer man he explained- someone he didn’t have to be in competition with. Someone he could playfully benchpress as they cuddled. Someone who would allow him to be their boss, dominating their world. Their connection grew stronger with each passing day, as they opened up about personal matters. Alex confided in Brock about his ongoing divorce and the challenges he faced as a newly out gay man and father. It became more intimate and clandestine, adding an exhilarating element to their connection. Brock would seize the opportunity to visit Alex when his wife was away, the thrill of secrecy coursing through their veins - even if they weren’t a couple anymore. Their meetings began with casual conversations and catching up, often over drinks. Alex often took the initiative to advance their connection further. Brock, with his experiences and knowledge became a treasure trove of information about being gay, became a guide for Alex, introducing him to new aspects of his sexuality and exploring different roles within their intimate dynamic. One such day, Alex came up behind Brock and with a confident touch, Alex's beefy hands skillfully working their magic on Brock's tired and tense back, eliciting a contented sigh from his lips as he surrendered to Alex’s intense pressure on his muscles. His eyes closed trying to keep from crying out, for fear Alex would stop. The demanding nature of Brock's job at the grocery store, coupled with the stress of affording college in the fall, had left him yearning for this kind of painful relief, and Alex proved to be an expert at easing his tension. "You're so tense," Alex remarked, his words laced with a mix of concern and desire, before applying deeper pressure with his thumbs to relax Brock's knotted muscles. "So tense and hard.” He said in a deeper and huskier voice. Sensing the growing attraction between them, Alex leaned in closer, his waist pressing against Brock’s ass over hanging the back of the stool. The absence of a backrest allowed Brock to keenly feel the firmness of Alex's waist against him, the tantalizing bulge between them leaving little to the imagination - a clear impression of Alex’s 8” beer can. A flicker of anticipation danced in the air as Alex's words hung there, heavy with smooth innuendos. Brock's heart raced, his mind swirling with a mixture of longing and excitement. The suggestion of moving to the guest room held the promise of a more satisfying massage, one that would satisfy not only their physical desires but take Alex’s gay virginity - if there could be such a thing. In that charged moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the throbbing pulse of desire and the unspoken invitation to see just how much Alex had learned about being a top. As Alex confidently led the way, Brock couldn't help but admire the mesmerizing sight before him. Each step Alex took revealed legs as robust as those of a seasoned athlete, defying any notions of a sedentary lifestyle. The moment they walked in the room, the waistline of Alex’s shorts loosened, surrendering to gravity as they approached the room, granting Brock an exquisite view of every sinew and contour of his muscular legs, leading up to the tantalizing glimpse of his boxer briefs. The tanned and impeccably toned flesh was a testament to years of dedication and hard work, as if he were poised to step onto a stage for a bodybuilding competition. His perfectly round buttocks beckoned like delectable cupcakes, inviting exploration and indulgence. "I work better without my pants on," Alex's voice resonated with playful anticipation. "Now, let's focus on that massage," he continued, playfully slapping a hand on the firm mattress. Brock began to pull his shirt up, but Alex halted his movements with a gentle touch, physically moving him to the bed to lay down. "If I need your clothes off, I'll take care of it myself," Alex's voice resonated with a touch of command, halting Brock's actions. A surge of anticipation coursed through Brock's body as he witnessed Alex's playful struggle with his shirt, his mighty lats flexing in a display of awe-inspiring power, captivating Brock's gaze. With each tantalizing movement, the magnificence of Alex's chiseled physique unfurled before Brock's enchanted eyes, like a masterpiece coming to life. Brock knew the man was purposely wearing small and tight clothes. His broad and commanding shoulders stood pressed against his traps, perfectly proportioned and barely able to manage the simple task. The flowing lines of his deltoids accentuated the distinct separation between each head, as if meticulously crafted by a skilled artisan. They seamlessly merged into his robust triceps, adorned with bulging veins that whispered of his unwavering commitment to his craft. Brock couldn't help but fixate on Alex's captivating chest—an embodiment of muscularity, adorned with a tantalizing dusting of fiery red hair and a trail of temptation leading below. Each meticulously sculpted pectoral muscle stood proud, emanating a pulsating aura of raw power and masculine allure - even as he fought to get his shirt over his head. The deep crevice between them served as a testament to the sheer strength contained within Alex's upper body. And then there were his rippling abdominals, a sight that left Brock in awe. Like a work of art, each individual muscle exhibited astonishing clarity, inviting exploration and igniting desires he never knew existed. Yet, as the reality of the moment washed over him, Brock's heart raced with a mixture of desire and disbelief. The enchanting sight before him beckoned him closer, awakening an urge to explore, to run his fingers over every carved ridge, and to discover the depths of pleasure that lay within this tantalizing dream made flesh. As the sleeves of his shirt clung tightly to his bulging arms, Alex's playful laughter filled the room, interrupting the mesmerized state that Brock found himself in. Their eyes met, and a mischievous spark danced between them. "Hey, Brock, I know you’re enjoying the view, but could you lend a hand?" Alex's voice dripped with playful charm. He was well aware of Brock's gaze, seemingly seeing through the fabric that concealed his magnificent physique. "Oh, yeah, sorry," Brock stammered, his cheeks flushing slightly as he snapped out of his reverie. He eagerly reached forward, grasping the warm and almost sweaty fabric, feeling the seams strain against the sheer size of Alex's body. Brock couldn't help but notice the subtle flexing of Alex's biceps, pressed against his ears in a playful display as it happened. It was a performance, designed to captivate and entice, and Brock was more than willing to be a willing participant. With one final tug from Brock, the shirt finally surrendered, leaving Alex standing before him, his head crowned with a tousle of messy red hair, a captivating contrast to his chiseled physique. In that surreal moment, as Brock's eyes traced the intricate lines of Alex's sculpted physique, a mischievous smirk played on Alex's lips, as he began to pop his pecs, left and right repeatedly - knowing just how hot it was for Brock. “Yeah? You like the huh?” Alex said. As the shirt fell to the side, discarded and forgotten, Brock found himself pulled into Alex's strong embrace. His head nestled between the pillows of sculpted pecs, the warmth and solidity of Alex's body enveloping him in a cocoon of desire. It was a full-bodied hug. Alex's lips left a trail of tender kisses along Brock's forehead, his breath mingling with whispered words of adoration. Each touch ignited a spark within Brock, fueling the flames of passion that consumed them both. "God, everything about you is so perfect," Alex murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and reverence. “I’ve never done this with a man.” The soft caresses continued their descent, leaving a trail of longing in their wake. Finally, their lips met, a fusion of fire and intensity that transcended words. In that passionate exchange, time seemed to stand still, their hearts beating in sync as their bodies pressed against one another. With a firm yet gentle motion, Alex guided Brock backward, their bodies sinking into the plushness of the bed. Brock's feet dangled over the edge of the bed, his knees bent as he surrendered himself to the gentle exploration of Alex's skilled touch. As Alex's lips and hands ventured across his chest and shoulders, a wave of sensation coursed through Brock's body, setting his nerves ablaze. Every kiss and caress sent ripples of pleasure, accompanied by an awe-inspiring visual display. With each tender motion, Alex's pecs flexed, their impressive definition captivating Brock's gaze. The sinewy muscles seemed to pop and ripple, a testament to the dedication and strength that resided within them. The rhythmic contractions of Alex's arms, guided by his hands, created an intoxicating dance, evoking a primal desire within Brock. And as their bodies pressed against each other, Brock could feel the subtle friction of the bulging briefs against his own waistline, a teasing reminder of the arousal they shared. In that moment, the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the tender affection and care that Alex bestowed upon him. It was a moment of full of genuine emotion. It was more than a mere hookup; it was a shared experience of vulnerability, pleasure, and profound intimacy. As Alex lavished him with affection, Brock couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and contentment. Brock's feet dangled over the edge of the bed, his knees bent, as Alex's strong hands worked their magic on his tired little body, pinned to the bed and loving every moment of it. "Let's add a little more excitement," Alex suggested, seamlessly steering the conversation into a new direction. With a fluid motion, his hand slipped under Brock's shirt, effortlessly peeling it off, revealing Brock's unremarkable chest. As Alex leaned in, his colossal back obscured Brock's view of the rest of the room, allowing him to only notice the stray red hairs that dared to venture upwards from Alex's pecs and nestle there. Alex's delicate nibbles and suckles on Brock's chest and neck sent shivers of pleasure coursing through him, while the slight abrasions of his facial stubble added a delightful sensation, a pleasant ache that heightened Brock’s experience. Brock found himself at a loss, his inexperience contrasting with Alex's muscular and seasoned presence. It seemed as though Alex was a master, effortlessly pinning Brock's hands above him as he positioned himself on top. Their lips met once again, this time engaging in a passionate dance of tongues, exploring each other. Brock marveled at the way Alex's tongue effortlessly extended further into his mouth, savoring the sensation. One of his favorite moments was when Alex playfully nibbled on his lips after intensely exploring his mouth. “You taste good," Brock playfully retorted between passionate kisses, his desire growing with every passing moment. The weight of Alex pressing down on his waist intensified the delicious friction against his throbbing cock, enhancing the urge within him, as if being driven deeper into the mattress. “That was suppose to be my line," Alex chuckled, his lips briefly parting from Brock's before resuming their intense connection. As their makeout session continued, Alex deftly began unbuttoning Brocks pants, but Brock eagerly attempted to lend a hand, only to have his efforts playfully swatted away. "That's going to be my job," Alex asserted, his tone carrying a hint of intimidation, yet the mischievous smile on his face dispelled any notion of seriousness. In the midst of their escalating passion, Brock could feel the room growing hotter, their bodies intimately intertwined. Alex's fingers expertly undid the remaining buttons of Brock's pants, his touch sending electric currents of pleasure coursing through Brock's veins. Slowly, sensually, Alex slid the pants down Brock's legs, baring him completely. "God, you're perfect," Alex uttered, a statement that no man of his size had ever said to Brock before. "I just want to—" He abruptly halted his words as his hand ventured towards Brock's eager entrance, skillfully tracing delicate patterns to help him relax, while using his other hand to generously apply lube to his own throbbing cock - a different beast that also terrified Brock. The air brimmed with anticipation, their eyes locked in a fiery gaze, each aware of what was to come next. With a surge of desire, Alex positioned himself at the threshold of Brock's longing. In a surprising display of tenderness, Alex embarked on their journey with meticulous slowness, savoring every moment of their intimate connection. Despite his imposing physique and impressive size, he moved with a gentle precision, his touch exuding both care and affection. His hands roamed Brock's body, worshipping every curve and contour, as if tracing a map of his devoted adoration. Brock's excitement only grew, his moans fueling Alex's fervor. Lost in the moment, their lips locked again and again, Alex began to thrust more intently now, their bodies melding together, Brocks feet locked behind the wall of muscle. "That's it, make daddy proud," Alex grunted, his words punctuated by the rhythm of their shared desire. Brock's body responded, the gentle stimulation of his P-spot sending blissful shivers cascading through his nerves until, without warning, he released in a wave of intense pleasure, his climax transcending any preconceived notion of a definitive jolt as he coated Alex’s treasure trial in thick globs of cum. As Brock's release marked the peak of his pleasure, Alex, sensing the culmination drawing near, intensified his rhythm. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a crescendo of passion reaching its apex as the bed slammed against the wall harder with each thrust. With unrestrained abandon, Alex's voice filled the air, his moans echoing through the room, as his own climax overcame him. Brock could feel the pulsating warmth of Alex's release inside him, even after Alex withdrew. Part of him wanted Alex to collapse on top of him right there, suffocating him. Suddenly, they both heard the front door opening and his wife tossing her keys and purse onto the kitchen bar. In a state of panic, Alex hurriedly attempted to get dressed, his voice filled with urgency. "Oh, fuck, she's home. You can't be here, you really can't be here." The sudden arrival of Alex's wife sent shockwaves through the room, erasing any remnants of relaxation or time to clean up as she announced she was home. Brock's heart raced as he realized the gravity of the situation, scrambling to his feet but stumbling clumsily and falling with an audible thud onto the carpet. He lay there, his head resting amidst the scattered pieces of clothing, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. Desperately, he reached for his underwear and hastily put it on, searching for his shorts and shirt in a frenzy. In that tense moment, Alex's wife entered the room, her gaze immediately registering the scene before her. Anger and hurt flashed across her face as she confronted her husband, her voice trembling with betrayal. "What were you two doing? How could you do this to me? He's barely older than our son, Alex!" Her words were filled with pain and disbelief, as if speaking to an unseen presence, disregarding Brock's presence in the room. The weight of her accusation bore down on Brock, his face turning pale with embarrassment and shame. However, her expression suddenly shifted, and she burst into laughter, a bitter and mocking tone in her voice. "You could at least let me know when you bring him over. But Brock, it's nice to finally meet you." Her words were laced with sarcasm, a mix of disbelief and resignation. The situation had taken an unexpected turn, leaving Brock caught between feelings of humiliation and a surreal sense of relief, unsure of how to respond in the midst of this emotional whirlwind. "Why did you panic if she knows about us?" Brock asked, feeling a sense of relief as he closed the door. "It was mostly for fun, she said she’d do it if she caught us" Alex replied, his voice filled with amusement. "And you're a good guy. Besides, she still plays a role in my life. I hope you'll allow her to be a part of it as the divorce goes through." Though Brock felt a twinge of awkwardness, he decided not to dwell on it. As long as things remained friendly and amicable, he didn't care. "You two finish up, I'll get some snacks in the oven," she shouted from down the hall. Brock couldn't help but notice that none of this scene seemed to faze her. The way she smiled at both of them made Brock think she was actually proud of her husband. "How is she so comfortable with this?" Brock asked, genuinely curious. "We loved and supported each other for 20 years, and that support isn't going to stop just because we're not sexually compatible due to my own self-deception," Alex replied, his voice carrying a tone of maturity and introspection. "It took a lot of work to get her to this point where she's comfortable with it, and because of my failure to be honest with myself, it cost her a lot. So she's still a part of my life, and if you're willing, you could be a part of it too during that time. This is a house where love wins.” Brock could see the sadness lingering in Alex's eyes as he struggled to get his clothes on. It was evident that he was reflecting on his relationship with his wife, still carrying a sense of loss and regret. But Brock had a different idea. He stepped closer to Alex, pressing himself up against him, swatting the mans hands away from buttoning up his own shorts. "No, you're not getting dressed. We're getting in the shower," Brock asserted, a sly smile playing on his lips. He reached out, pulling Alex’s shirt back off. “We’re not done yet.” "We aren't?" Alex replied, a hint of playful challenge in his voice. "And what are you going to do about it?" he added, his gaze fixed on Alex's tensed arms, mesmerized by the bulging muscles, particularly the defined horseshoe bend of the tricep. Brock leaned in, capturing Alex's lips in a passionate kiss, pressing his body against the impressive chest that seemed to tower over him. His hand traced a path up and down the sinewy contours of Alex's arm, savoring the sensation of each muscle beneath his touch. "Goddamn, your muscles are enormous." Brock murmured between kisses, his desire and admiration evident in his words. As Alex guided them into the shower, the warm water cascaded down their bodies, creating a sensual curtain that heightened the intimacy of the moment. Brock eagerly took the soap in his hands, lathering it up to create a rich foam. With tender care, he started at Alex's broad shoulders, his fingers gliding over the firm muscles. The soap glided effortlessly across Alex's sculpted chest, leaving behind a trail of bubbles that highlighted every beautiful contour and ridge, tangling themselves in his hair as each strand danced. Brock's hands moved in slow, deliberate circles, relishing the sensation of the slick soap on Alex's skin, specifically working to get his cum out of Alex’s hair. He traced the defined lines of his abs, his touch light and teasing, before moving lower to explore each powerful thigh and calf. The water, accentuating his size and strength. Brock's fingertips followed the path of the falling droplets, reveling in the way they meandered over the ridges and valleys of Alex's physique. He couldn't help but marvel at the way the water clung to his well-defined biceps, the droplets forming a glistening sheen that highlighted their impressive size. With each stroke and touch, Brock reveled in the sheer power and beauty of Alex's body. He reveled in the way the soap slid between his fingers, the way the water traced every curve and crevice. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, the connection between them deepening with every gentle touch and little remark as Brock worshiped the mans muscles. In that shower, Brock delighted in the sensuality of the experience, determined to satisfy Alex again. As Brock knelt before Alex, his hands continued their gentle exploration of the muscular body, caressing the firm flesh with reverence. With a deliberate and eager motion, Brock's mouth found its destination, enveloping Alex's throbbing cock barely able to breathe. His tongue, slick with desire, danced along every inch of Alex’s cock, tracing the intricate veins and contours that brought Alex immense pleasure. The rhythm of his movements matched the rhythm of the water cascading down, a symphony of sensuality in the steam-filled shower. The taste of Alex’s pre, a heady combination that fueled Brock's hunger for more, as the cock began to stiffen. Soon Alex's hand found its place behind Brock's head, as he looked up at his man. Sensing the growing hunger in Alex's eyes, Brock skillfully slid his finger into Alex's tight opening, expertly targeting his prostate. The combination of Brock's tantalizing suction and the euphoric stimulation sent waves of pleasure coursing through Alex's body, leaving him unable to contain his moans. Driven by his insatiable desire, Alex’s thrusts grew more fervent, his hips thrusting in tandem with Brock's oral ministrations. Brock couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of the mans ass clamping around his fingers with each push. The intensity built, their connection deepening with every desperate thrust. Brock continued to expertly suck and pleasure Alex, skillfully navigating the delicate balance of pleasure and control. And then, as the pinnacle of their desire approached, a surge of warmth flooded Brock's throat. He reveled in the taste and the shared intimacy, his senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. As they both caught their breath, Alex leaned against the shower wall, his body still quivering with aftershocks. A contented smile played on his lips as he gazed at Brock, a mix of satisfaction and admiration in his eyes. "You really know what you're doing," Alex chuckled, his voice laced with post-coital bliss. “Holy shit, men really do this stuff better." The sensitivity of his body lingered, as he shuddered against the wall. “I knew you had a second round in you.” Brock said wiping his lips of Alex’s remnants. In the steam-filled shower, a sense of fulfillment hung in the air, mingling with the remnants of their passionate encounter. Both men stood in the aftermath of their shared release, their bodies intimately intertwined in the blissful aftermath. Alex laughed. “Now, let’s see what your wife has made,” Brock said, shocked he could even say such a thing. —————————————————————————————————————————— In the weeks that followed, Alex orchestrated a series of unforgettable dates, each one meticulously planned to make Brock feel like royalty. From candlelit dinners at upscale restaurants to romantic walks along moonlit beaches, every moment was a testament to Alex’s infatuation. He reveled in the knowledge that his bulging muscles had the power to arouse and captivate Brock, his slender frame drawn to the sheer physicality of Alex's body. Brock, enthralled by the sight of every flexing muscle and the way Alex's shirts clung to his sculpted physique, found himself mesmerized by the sheer strength and beauty of his partner and they numerous ways he could support them both. As their relationship deepened, they ventured into new territories. Wrestling and working out together became a thrilling exploration of trust and vulnerability. In the heat of their workouts, Brock willingly placed himself in precarious situations, his body straining under the weight of Alex's strength with relief at Alex’s discretion. Bringing him to the point of collapse only for Alex to save him last moment. Under his watchful eye, Brock willingly surrendered himself to the tantalizing play of power dynamics late at Alex’s gym. He reveled in the intoxicating blend of vulnerability and domination, cherishing each moment when Alex took control with a touch that was both careful and loving. The sheer force of Alex's presence made Brock feel simultaneously small and cherished, the perfect balance that fueled their passionate connection. On the wrestling mat, their bodies entangled in a dance of strength and skill, Alex allowed Brock to practice the moves they had been working on. With each takedown and counter, Brock's confidence grew, the fruits of their dedicated workouts and wrestling sessions evident in his improved technique. As Alex tapped out, acknowledging Brock's victory for the night, a sense of pride and joy swelled within him. He admired Brock's progress, marveling at how far they had come together. Laughing as he pulled himself out of the staged and rehearsed full nelson, Alex couldn't help but tease Brock playfully, as if he wasn't the one pinned beneath him. "You're getting much better at that," he chuckled, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes, despite the lighthearted banter. With their wrestling match concluded, the intensity of their physical excitement began to subside, giving way to a pleasant fatigue that washed over them. “I swear you’ve been getting stronger.” Brock heaved as they made their way to the gym showers, the sound of running water serving as a soothing backdrop to their intimate conversation. “Since we’ve started working out, I’ve had a reason to push myself harder knowing there’s a man just waiting for this…” He said flexing a bicep, rotating his first in and out to really accentuate the muscle. As they stood under the warm cascade of water, cleansing their bodies from the exertion of their rigorous workout, Brock's mind turned to the approaching end of summer. The realization that his time with Alex was limited brought a tinge of sadness to his heart. Looking into Alex's eyes, he couldn't help but voice his concerns. "You know, summer's almost over," Brock spoke softly, his voice laced with a hint of melancholy. "I don't want to go back to college at this point.” The gravity of the words hung in the air, the implications of such a decision echoing between them. Brock hoped for a solution that would allow him to stay close to Alex, to continue nurturing the connection they had forged during these precious summer months. Alex, understanding the weight of Brock's decisions, reached out to gently caress his cheek. His expression softened, a mixture of understanding and affection reflected in his eyes. “Brock, I would do anything to make you happy and wouldn’t stop until you were,” Alex responded, his voice tender yet resolute. "If staying here, maybe pursuing online courses or working blue collar stuff, will bring you joy, then I fully support your decision. Your happiness and my growth for you, is what matter to me.” As he stepped on the scale, relishing the 5 pounds he was up, only for Brock to claim it was water weight and smash his proud moment. The sincerity in Alex's words filled Brock's heart with warmth, dispelling any lingering doubts. In that moment, he realized that their bond extended beyond the physical, encompassing a deep emotional connection that transcended any physical distance or academic pursuits, leading to someone willing to support him or physically hold him up. What harm would it be to simply continue falling in love with Alex? As they finished showering and dressed, preparing to leave the gym, a sense of gratitude and contentment settled within them as the held hands leaving. The drive home was filled with quiet reflection, punctuated by occasional glances exchanged between them, their love and devotion silently spoken through their eyes. With each passing day, their connection had deepened. The summer may be drawing to a close, but the love they had cultivated would continue to thrive, nurturing their souls and paving the way for a future filled with shared experiences and unwavering support. —————————————————————————————————————————— As they approached their respective homes one evening, hand in hand, they entered their separate front doors with a final smile before disappearing behind the frame, each stepping into the presence of their own families. For Brock, however, an unexpected encounter awaited him as his father stood there, a mix of curiosity and concern etched upon his face. "What's been going on with you and Alex?" his father questioned, his tone filled with a blend of confusion and worry. "You spend all your time with him and have been taking fewer hours at work. You boss just texted me and said you’ve been coming in less.” Brock felt the weight of his father's gaze, knowing that his dad was aware of his sexuality but still grappling with the complexities understanding the gay community - so in-depth conversations weren’t exactly his strong suit. "Dad, we're just hanging out," Brock replied, choosing to evade the subject, his voice tinged with a hint of unease. “Having a good time.” "You spend more time with him than with your own family," his father continued, his concern evident. "We only get to see you for a short while during the summer. How are you even able to afford taking so much time off from work?” Brock's father knew his son's workplace intimately, as Brock's manager was a close friend of his own. The web of connections seemed to tighten, adding another annoying layer of complexity to the situation. “Alex, like next door Alex, and I have been getting to know each other, ” Brock's words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of vulnerability and truth. His father stood there, momentarily speechless, struggling to process the revelation. "You're in a relationship with him?" his father finally managed to utter, his confusion palpable. "He's my age... no, he's just a few years older than me. What the fuck…" "Dad, this is precisely why I didn't tell you," Brock replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I don't care if you're dating a man," his father's tone softened, his love for his son evident. "But this... this is dangerous.” "He's actually an amazing person, Dad," Brock insisted, seeking to bridge the gap between them. "And his wife, she supports us.” "Yeah, you're dating a married man," his father mused, still trying to grasp the situation. "Wait, she supports this?" With a mix of confusion and curiosity, he motioned for Brock to follow him into the living room, where they could continue their conversation as they normally would. “Call him, and have him come over here, I want to speak with him,” Brocks father said. “I don’t want some 45 year old man, taking advantage of my 23 year old son.” Brock hesitated for a moment, sensing his father's protectiveness and the need to address his concerns. He reached for his phone and dialed Alex's number, feeling a mix of apprehension and hope. After a few rings, Alex's voice greeted him through the speaker. "Hey, babe, what's up?" Alex's voice was warm and comforting, soothing Brock's nerves. "Hey, Alex," Brock replied, his voice laced with a hint of tension. "My dad wants to talk to you. He has some concerns and... well, he wants to understand.” There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Alex responded, his voice filled with understanding and support. "I'm more than willing to talk to your dad. Let him know I'm coming over.” Brock relayed the message to his father, who nodded in acknowledgment. A mix of anticipation and skepticism filled the room as they waited for Alex's arrival. A few minutes later, a knock resonated through the front door, and despite Brock's eagerness to greet Alex, his father took the lead, his voice faltering with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. "Alex... I, uh... come in," he managed to say, his words trailing off as he opened the door. Brock, seated in the living room, listened intently, aware that his father was witnessing Alex's impressive physical transformation for the first time. The sight of Alex's muscular physique, honed through countless hours of dedicated training, was undoubtedly intimidating to his father. Alex stepped into the house, his presence commanding yet gentle, as he followed Brock's father into the living room. They took their respective seats, an atmosphere charged with curiosity and unspoken questions. Brock's father cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on Alex's powerful form. "I... I must admit, I didn't expect... this," he began, struggling to find the right words. "You've certainly changed, Alex.” Alex nodded, acknowledging the unspoken observation. "Yes, I've been working hard on my physique and overall fitness. It's become an important part of my life.” Brock's father studied Alex, his initial surprise slowly transforming into a mixture of respect and curiosity. "I can see the dedication and discipline it takes to achieve such a physique. It's impressive, to say the least.” Brock, sensing the shift in his father's perspective, felt a wave of relief wash over him. As Alex made his way into the living room, Brock immediately grasped the significance of his presence. Dressed in a loosely fitting tank top that accentuated his chiseled physique, his impressive, hairy pecs seemed to engage in their own silent dialogue with the room. Taking a seat beside Brock, Alex casually draped a weighty arm around Brock's shoulders, conveying both a sense of ownership and protection. And then, in a bold move, he leaned in and planted a kiss on Brock's lips, right before his father's eyes, as if to assert, without words, "Your son belongs to me.” Brock's father stood there, utterly speechless, his eyes locked on the scene unfolding before him. He witnessed the unspoken declaration of love, woven into that intimate moment between his son and this larger-than-life man. The sheer audacity and intensity of their connection reverberated throughout the room, leaving his father at a loss for words. Andrew, still grappling with mixed emotions, gathered his thoughts and approached the two of them seated on the couch. He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting between Brock and Alex, before finally finding the courage to address his concerns. "Brock, I need to understand... I mean, this... age difference and where you are in your life," Andrew began, his voice tinged with a mixture of worry and caution. "You're still figuring things out, and I just want to make sure you're going to be safe, protected.” Brock's heart ached with a blend of apprehension and a desire for his father's understanding. As he folded under the anxiety ladened conversation while Alex navigated it He knew that their relationship faced hurdles of acceptance, especially given the unconventional nature of his connection with Alex. But before Brock could respond, Alex interjected, his voice calm yet resolute. "Andrew, I understand your concerns. The age difference, his education, his entire life in front of him... these are valid points. But I want you to know that I will always stand by him the same way I would love and stand by my wife well after our divorce. I will support him in every decision he makes the same way you saw me supporting my wife when we first moved.” Alex asserted, his eyes brimming as he looked directly at Brock. "No matter what happens, you have my word as a man and your friend.” The words hit Andrew square in the chest, hearing the definitive promise his son would be taken care of. Andrew looked at Alex, searching for any hint of doubt or insincerity - even living next door Alex was the ideal neighbor. They never had an issue and often helped each other out. The only thing Andrew found instead was an unwavering commitment emanating from this imposing yet gentle man. It was clear that Alex's devotion to Brock went beyond mere infatuation; being man enough to come over for this conversation. As the weight of Alex's words settled upon Andrew, the small amount of betrayal he felt from his friend seemed to be buried under his promise. Andrew didn’t like the idea, but he would tolerate it As Alex pick his heavy body off the couch he excused himself, reaching out to Brock, his voice filled with a reassuring yet firm tone. “Come on, let’s go” he said, his eyes locked with Brock's. He could see the stress and unease that had settled upon his boyfriend, and he was determined to alleviate it and he knew just the thing. Brock hesitated, his mind grappling with the weight of the conversation with his father. With a small nod, he intertwined his fingers with Alex's rough hand, and together they walked out, side by side, finding the path that led to Alex's house. Each step seemed to calm their racing thoughts, easing the tension that lingered within. As they reached the porch, a surge of affection washed over Alex, prompting him to sweep Brock off his feet and carry him through across the threshold. Guiding Brock into the bedroom, Alex's grip on his hand tightened, drawing him into a tight embrace. He reassured Brock, his voice brimming with conviction. "Brock, I want you to know that as long as we're together, I will take care of you," he affirmed, his words carrying the weight of unwavering commitment. A playful grin crossed Alex's face as he added, "But right now, daddy need a protein shake, so he can continue getting bigger" his hunger evident as his hand caressed Brock's crotch. With each kiss, Alex carefully removed Brock's clothing, piece by piece, revealing the vulnerability and intimacy they shared. They crawled into bed, their bodies intertwining in an embrace that mirrored the strength of their promise. As their eyes met, Brock's heart swelled with a mixture of love and gratitude. It was in that intimate moment that Alex descended, his lips wrapping around Brock's shaft, as Alex blew Brock for the first time.

Because @BllackHulk recently interacted with some of my posts, I remembered that a hot story about a "Black Hulk" existed. So I am indulging with some possible appearances of Henk the first time he met Kris. @radiokida It may have been written more than 5 years ago, but I would be interested to have your opinion on how my prompts were able to represent the character based on your descriptions…

Eventually, you RELISHED your growth going out of control. Sure, you'd officially flunked out of your second year of college but economic analytics was harder than you anticipated... Thankfully, you were very lucky to have such a strong group of bros to support you. And they certainly did- when you initially told them you'd wanted to start working out more seriously, they actually gave you bags of supplements and 'lifestyle' tapes. The tapes were weird (all about 'motivation', working out, or dieting) and even when you always found yourself waking up towards the end of them you'd watch them religiously. Hell, the guys eventually started making your meals for you, too and it didn't take long for the gym to become second nature for you. You got BIG. Your confidence burst through the roof and you were cocky or even mean; you deserved it! Nobody could have gotten as jacked as you, nor as strong. Regardless, you were always kind to your bros. They were the ones making you big, too. Hell, after a while you started feeling like they worshiped you, in a weird, communal way. Each one would bring you a can of weird beer of a brand you couldn't pronounce and of course you'd end up shotgunning it as a challenge. At some point doorways were becoming a challenge due to your width- that's when the guys would laugh at your wide, stumbling gait but still help you get upstairs to bed. The side effects made EVERYTHING bigger. Some of the bros bought you new shoes every time your feet started getting cramped in your current pair. One day you'd dozed off again after a weird lifestyle tape, waking up with an excess of morning wood and one of your younger buddies sucking on your long toes. You felt embarrassed but there was something about when he asked you to flex for him that kept you laying comfortably on your increasingly smaller bed. He'd ask you questions about wanting your growth and if you liked it; you'd answer with honesty as you milked your fat cock, his chuckle making you smile naively as he moved to massage your huge feet and massive legs. You were getting massive and it felt awesome! All you could really think about was getting bigger and having fun with your bros. After a while it wasn't weird at all to find yourself flexing or working out in the basement, naked, and you consistently found yourself serving the guys however they asked. You almost cried when the school told you you'd failed all your classes; you couldn't even remember the last time you'd even gone. The guys told you it didn't matter, you could still live at the house and to not even sign up for another semester if you didn't want to. So you didn't bother with school. Hell, you used to consider yourself a rather smart guy but nowadays you could barely keep up with complex conversations your bros have at home. The guys would laugh when you gave a ditsy comment and tell you to show of your tits instead. You'd happily peel up (or ripped off) your shirt, showing off your massive pecs. You loved showing off, after all! They called you a good 'himbo' and directed you to administer twice the doses of supplements you were accustomed too. You explained to them your pectorals were seemingly increasing size even faster than the rest of your body, feeling sore almost every day. They gladly began giving you more thorough daily 'massages'. Nowadays you find yourself practically shaking the earth beneath your heavy steps, your quads and hams so wide you have to move in an awkward waddle. Your time is religiously spent in the basement gym or with your loving bros. Sure, they graduate and new ones come in, but you always find tight relationships with them. The guys worship your massive, sweaty body and always make sure you're well-taken care of. You've lost track of how many years have gone by and sometimes wonder if you're not really getting any older, either. You're fucking huge. Sometimes the guys are sweeter and love letting you strut around with a proper alpha male cockiness. Others are meaner, tricking you into tight situations or letting your huge pecs go without milking for days at a time, letting you murmur in discomfort like a proper bull in heat as your pecs start looking overdeveloped even for your massive frame. A rare few actually manage to fit your huge cockhead in their mouths. Some manage to fit you inside them (dangerously) but most often you enjoy feeling a bro sniffing and lapping your hairy, muscled pucker before stretching it out with their fat bro cock. For as much as you have to eat, absorbing protein through your bros' thick cocks is a benefit you gladly enjoy. There isn't often a party where you turn down a proper pose down, letting all the guys worship you as they pump you full of beer and cock.

// part 1 of another short series || update: fixed the grammar mistakes Farmer’s boy I was 25 when I knocked against the heavy door of the farmer's house. I was sweaty from my ride on the bicycle, and I gulped audibly when the door swung open… And he stood at the door. "Here for the job?" His low voice was booming… I had never heard such a deep voice before… Fuck, it was sending shivers throughout my bones. My cock was hardening while my eyes tried to process it all… He was huge… Tall and wide… His hairy pecs pushed the fabric of his lumberjack shirt and suspenders to their limits. "Hey, eyes up here" he had a cocky smirk on his lips when I glanced up. My neck felt slightly sore. I always knew I was average with my 6' in height. But that man was huge. He had to be at least 7' in size when he glanced down at me with amusement. "Y Yeah… Here for the job…." "Don't worry, son, you'll grow the muscle you need to get the job done" He led me into his living room where I took place. "You're the only one who didn't turn on his heels after he spotted me…." He tapped the table with his thick fingers while he checked me out. I was athletic… But nothing close to his physique. His biceps looked as if it was close to tearing his shirt's sleeves apart at any given moment. And fuck… He looked like a pro wrestler… Or even a bodybuilder. I've never seen men this big… or potent. But when I recalled his job description… He was "an ordinary farmer and lumberjack looking for a new helper to feed the animals and help him in the woods." "Boy… Listen to my offer before you make your decision" He leaned slightly over the table while filling my glass with fresh milk. "If you work for me over the summer… I'll pay you double and give you a room upstairs… Feeding you through during the next three months." He looked me in the eyes while raising one of his thick brows while I slowly chugged down the glass of milk, wiping my mouth with my forearm. "I'm in for it" I placed the empty glass on the table and was surprised to see his grin widen. I never tasted anything like that fresh milk. "To be honest, I didn't expect you to agree… The last five studs turned on their heels when they spotted me in the doorway…. But in reality, I'm not that intimidating, am I?" He flexed one of his massive arms, and his shirt just ripped apart around the sleeves. I could smell his scent. His sweaty musk filled the air. My own 5.7 inches of cock were hardening full mast in my jeans…. I gulped slowly… "Not at all," I lied while glancing around the room to see where his wife was. He followed my gaze slowly before reaching his full height again. It was the first time that I could take a long stare at his package… His monstrous shaft and nuts were so massive that I could spot them through the jean's fabric… Fuck he was packing. "We're the only two on the farm" he glanced down at me… "Lemme show me your room" He slowly made his way towards the hallway; his broad back turned to me when I tried shoving my hardon underneath my belt before I followed him upstairs. Fuck I felt heated, and my cock was oozing pre like crazy. My muscles felt good. Almost as if I had a decent pump even without hitting the gym. "That's your room… My son used it back in the days… But he moved overseas a week ago…. Never really cleaned up his mess though" He let me inside and leaned against the wooden doorframe behind me… Fuck… he really filled it out to perfection. He had to lean against the top crossbar with his forearm, crunching slightly to glance down at me through the door. "Take whatever you need… My son Jake won't need it any longer… And I'm more than pleased if someone finally takes care of that nasty boy's mess." I slowly nodded when he patted me on my shoulder in approval. "And don't worry about him returning. He won't be back home for at least a few years". He slowly turned around to leave. "Make yourself at home… And take his clothes if you like them… He grew out of them way too fast. . ." He chuckled while walking down the hallway. "I'll introduce you to your work tomorrow…. Dinner is at 7… And call me Mike if you need anything." I could see his monstrous glutes, quads, and calves fighting with the jeans fabric while he slowly made his way downstairs again… I inhaled the air… Feeling more pre oozing out of my shaft before I glanced down… Did my cockhead always push out over the belt… And my arms… They looked massive today. Fuck, my workouts really paid off. I can even spot my abs slightly sticking out underneath my shirt. I slowly moved around the room. Jake had to be a fucking freak of a stud… The ground was covered in jockstraps which either were torn apart or featured prominent stains of what had to be his jizz. I slowly made my way towards the closet and pulled out a shirt. It was big enough for two or three Luke's of my size… And fuck… I got even hornier when I found his underwear drawer… He had to be packing… Clearly coming after his beast of a father. I slowly undressed when I couldn't resist trying it on. I got even harder when I realized my hard cock couldn't stretch the fabric far enough. The waistband was worn out and always slid back down my hips… But Jake had some hot clothes. Prominent red jockstraps… He has enormous hoodies and his own collection of lumberjack shirts. I tried on one of his hoodies and just gulped when I glanced down at myself… The hoodie ended right above my knees…. It looked like a tent on my body… The fabric alone was heavy enough that even I could feel its impact on my body…. Did he grow out of that stuff? That's Impossible, right? I slowly got rid of his hoodie again, making my way to his desk drawers. The upper drawer was filled with polaroids with stuff written onto the white edge beneath. "First day of college" I glanced onto the stud. He was hot. Looked like a regular jock. He had a chiseled jawline, and his school uniform was painted on his body to perfection… "Started wrestling" was the second polaroid…. My cock almost exploded in my pants when I stared at the image. That was porn material. He was huge… He was at least 7'…, more like 7'2 in height… He was standing in the middle of what had to be a locker room. Pinning someone against his side… Against his hairy pits. His huge cock was throbbing. Bulging against his monstrous abs while he clearly did not care if anyone saw his massive member. His nuts were bigger than eggs, more like oranges. And the buff dude to his side looked scrawny compared to his mass. I slowly switched to the next pic… Feeling my cock exploding inside my briefs. "Helping my old man on the farm…." He was clearly the one who held the camera for the selfie… I could see mike standing next to him. His massive right arm wrapped around Mike's shoulders and neck. He was barely tall enough to face his son's huge nipples… He looked … so… puny next to him… Mike had a smile on his lips while he didn't look bothered that his son was all naked. A thick stream of what had to be pre ran over his massive cock onto the muddy ground. And without the other polaroids… I probably would've switched their roles in my head… I slowly pushed the images back into the drawer when I searched for something to eliminate the mess inside my briefs… I panted… Feeling my cock stir even harder inside my underwear… I just came… But my nuts felt like they wanted to blast an even bigger load…. I slowly got up and went to his bed and the drawer next to it. It smelled like gym lockers… Or probably just a potent man… if that was what it is. I slowly opened the drawer and glanced inside. I first spotted a huge bag of condoms… supersize was written in bold letters across the package…. A large flashlight was resting next to the box… And back in the corner, I found an almost empty container of tissues… The flashlight had slightly broken plastic around its sides… Wait… A flashlight? I slowly wrapped my fingers around the large tool and pulled it out of the drawer… It was no flashlight… It was a fucking fleshlight… And judging by its clean state, he never really had a chance to use it properly after the fucking sides were crushed by something… My eyes widened when I remembered… Jake's cock was monstrous in the pictures… more like a forearm than a cock. I slowly pulled down my briefs, forgetting to clean up for the moment, when I slowly lowered the fleshlight over my throbbing cock's head. I always wanted to try one of these… I always wanted to… *NNNGHH FUOOCK* I let out a low growl when my cockhead touched the soft insides… Even with the broken sides…. It fulfilled its duties. I laid back on his bed…. Slowly shoving it further down on my cock while my muscles shivered under the pleasure… I inhaled the air… My balls felt ready to blow as if they were close to just bursting apart under the pressure of my cum… I closed my eyes before I slowly stared up at the ceiling…. Stains were covering the wooden top of the room… I rammed the fleshlight down when I let out a relieved grunt… My cock blasted another load… But this time, it got even worse… I could feel the lust only rise inside my veins… That fucker really just blew his loads against the ceiling…. What a pervert… I let out a lower grunt. My adam's apple slightly pushed outwards. My pecs started inflating just so tiny, stretching the material of my shirt further out. My pecs slowly grew hairier underneath, building a prominent happy trail toward my cock's base. My cock was shivering under the lust… I ignored the fapping sounds each time I thrust my cock back into the wet fleshlight… It felt way too good when I pulled my pants further down… It felt like a prison for my calves… I couldn't get my jeans off on their own… But right now, I didn't care… My calves were rippling. My quads were pushing out further… *NNNGHH FUOOOOCK* I closed my eyes when I bucked my hips further out. My abs rippled and got denser… Thicker… My body slowly grew into a prominent v-shape. My shoulders pushed out while my neck got stronger… Manlier… My jaw got slightly square when I heard Mike's deep booming voice shouting from below… "DINNER'S ALMOST READY" My cock exploded inside the fleshlight when I slowly held my breath and moaned…. I was panting, sweating like crazy… "I I'm coming" My voice was deeper… Fuck I sounded manly right now… I slowly pulled off the fleshlight before glancing down, staring at my cock… It was towering around 8 inches in length… I tried to focus but fuck… What happened… I was… bigger…. My mind was razing before I heard tableware clinging down in the kitchen…. Dinner… Dinner right… I slowly tried pulling my jeans back up when I struggled over my quads… I grimaced when I used more force… Squeezing my jeans back up further… It was fucking torture to get my massive nuts inside… They were slightly blue… As if they wanted to blow another five loads right now… I slightly panicked when I realized my shirt was too short… It only covered down to my belly button right now… And my cock… It was fucking oozing out pre like crazy over my abs and pants… Clearly visible even after I pinned it underneath my belt… I rummaged in his closet when I pulled one of the lumberjack shirts and got it on. It was way too big for my frame… But I just tucked it into my pants, hiding my cock at least slightly from Mike's eyes when I slowly made my way downstairs. My feet felt cramped in my shoes… I almost tripped and slightly cursed when my forehead hit the small doorway into the hallway. . . "Looking good" Mike sat at the same table. It was filled to the rims with different foods. Two large mugs of fresh creamy milk. Large steaks with fresh salads. "Still a bit too large for my frame… But had nothing else to wear" I was sweating… I could feel the heat in my body… I couldn't explain it… But I was so damn horny all the time. "You remind me of my son… When he was your size back in the days" He grinned before he slowly leaned in, filling my glass with the creamy milk again…

@jujumusclelover717 The guy in the blue shirt PECy McPECerson! The dude in the jeans looks like a morph of McSteamy from Grey's Anatomy and now I'm traveling down a rabbit hole to see if that actually exists, lol! Below is a pic of the "inspiration".

When I vision Jim in my head and I get images like these

PARTE 16 -- "Sigue tú, Matias" -- llamó el Sr Rockwell después de haber llamado a todos los otros ya conocidos integrantes, y también a los 5 nuevos aspirantes a ingresar. En el gimnasio registraba los datos y el pesaje de cada uno de ellos. Matias dió un paso delante, y muy orgulloso se subió a la báscula. No hacia falta ni medirlo ni pesarlo para saber que él era el jugador de mayor tamaño del equipo, y esa cualidad le generaba admiración por parte de los nuevos El entrenador revisó el visor -- "Vaya, Matias.. estas mas grande que la temporada pasada... 95 kilos!" Matias sonrió. Había entrenado duramente todo el verano para ser el mejor.. mejor de lo que lo que ya era. Sin bajarse de la báscula, flexionó ambos brazos a la altura de sus hombros, y todos enloquecieron con el tamaño de esos poderosos brazos. -- "MM si, estuve entrenando algo.. estos bebés lucen mejor que nunca HA!. Si ya estamos todos, ya podemos ir al campo a entrenar?". El capitán estaba ansioso de demostrar todo su poder -- "Bien.. si ya estamos todos, comencemos. Todos el campo que arrancamos en 5" -- ordenó el entrenador Matias se dió la vuelta abruptamente, y cerca de la puerta, su rostró chocó contra algo que lo dejó confundido. Era como si hubieran puesto un muro en su camino. -- "Falto yo..." -- dijo una voz bien gruesa y sumamente masculina. -- "perdón la demora" Matias, antes de abrir sus ojos, inmediatamente se puso a la ofensiva -- "IDIOTA!! Fíjate por donde camin...." --. Pero su habla quedó interrumpida por el shock cuando vió delante suyo una silueta inmensa. Sus ojos no podían creer lo que estaban viendo, incluso el entrenador se quedó sorprendido. -- "Heeeey, Matias!! Tanto tiempo..." -- "Hola, entrenador.. ¿llego a tiempo para anotarme?" -- "Si claro que si... ven, pasa, pasa" -- "Q-Q- que crees que haces aqui?!" --. Matias se brotó en indignación de verlo otra vez. -- "Hey hola Matias!" --. Inclinó su mirada hacia abajo y mirandolo, le preguntó confundido -- "¿Te encogiste, Matias? Te ves mas pequeño de como te recordaba" En efecto, en comparación a Joel, él se veía mas pequeño. Sus bIceps eran la mitad de anchos que los suyos, pero no solo eso. Sus ojos ya no estaban a la misma altura.. ahora Joel lo aventajaba por casi una cabeza de diferencia -- "Woow Joel, te ves enorme, impresionante!!" --. La atención del entrenador, y la de todos los presentes se desviaron hacia el joven. "Woow estas gigante, Joel", "Sus brazos como tan grandes como mis piernas", "Miren, los brazos de Joel hace que los brazos de Matias se ven pequeños", "Si era una bestia antes, no quiero imaginarme toda la fuerza que pueda tener ahora", eran los comentarios de los otros jugadores, todos ellos elogiando a Joel.. mientras que la incomodidad de Matias se acrescataba exponencialmente al escucharlos. El entrenador se acercó a Joel para destacar la diferencia de altura entre él y el capitán. -- "Estas muy alto... Pegaste un estirón ¿cuanto estas midiendo?" -- -- "Ahmm.. no lo sé.. supongo que 1,75" El Sr Rockwell rió a carcajadas creyendo que estaba bromeando -- ".. eso mide Matias, y tu claramente lo superas" --. Para salir de la duda, pidió que le alcanzaran una cinta métrica. El entrenador sostuvo la base y pidió a Maias que la extienda hacia arriba. -- "Cuanto dice?" --. Matias debió ponerse en puntas de pie para leer la marca de la cinta métrica. GLUUUP. 1,94 mts. Pero Matias mintió restando unos centimetros -- "1,89". ¡Mierda! era una ventaja de 19 centimetros. -- "Bueno.. supongo que eso explica porque tuve que cambiar de zapatillas. Todas me quedaban muy apretadas" Justo cuando parecia no ser mas incomodo para Matias... -- "Esos brazos.. a ver, flexiona esos brazos, muchacho. Mejor quitate la camiseta.. a ver ese cuerpo!" -- pidió el entrenador con gran entusiasmo" Joel se quitó la camiseta, y deleitó a todos con sus hombros anchos y gruesos brazos, que apenas con lo justo entraba por el umbral de la puerta. El Sr Rockwell acercó las palmas de sus manos para apretar el biceps flexionado de Joel, pero era tan grueso, que aún asi era demasiada circunsferencia para cubrirlo con ambas palmas.-- "Vamos a ver cuanto estas pesando..." Joel se subió a la báscula, y rapidamente los numeros empezaron a deslizarse.. 0... 70... 100... 118... 123... 135... Los ojos de Matias se abrieron grandes, no podia creerlo. Su envidia se elevaba a niveles estratofericos al ver que esos numeros no dejaban de subir. -- "Wooow, muy impresionante! 143 kilos!" -- reveló el entrenador -- "En mis años como entrenador, no recuerdo haber visto a alguien tan enorme como tu. Bueno, vamos al campo" GLUUPP. La ansiedad de Matias de querer comenzar a entrenar se desplomó por el suelo en un abrir y cerrar de ojos. Se le vino a la mente el recuerdo de cuando Joel lo alzó sobre su hombro y corrió varios metros con él encima. GLUUP... Y ahora que Joel habia crecido aún mas, ¿de que podría ser capaz?¿cual podria ser su limite? se preguntó. GLUUUP. A la hora de entrenar, el Sr Rockwell armó las parejas de a dos, para que uno ataque y el otro defienda, y viceversa. Matias fue emparejado con Joel. Matias inclinó inclinó sus rodillas y avanzó corriendo impulsando su cabeza hacia adelante, hasta que chocó contra los duros abdominales de Joel. El capitan ejercició la máxima presión que le era posible, pero todos todos sus intentos fueron en vano. Él no lograba mover a Joel ni un centimetro de donde estaba parado. Joel lo miró y le dijo -- "Que pasa chiquito? ¿Esa es toda la fuerza que tienes?... Oh vamos, hasta mi hermanita podría hacerlo mejor jajajaj". Era la misma frase que Matias habia usado con Joel en el primer entrenamiento de la temporada pasada. Matias se retiró antes del entrenamiento, totalmente humillado y con su ego destruido. Mas aún quedaria destruido cuando el entrenador comunique que Joel sería el nuevo capitán. FIN. === Gracias por leerla. Fue una historia básica, aunque su finalidad era darle contexto a las imagenes generadas con AI. Espero la hayan disfrutado

Lex felt like a god after injecting himself with those Kryptonite-based roids.

PARTE 8 Matias corria y corria abrazado al balón, como un puma feroz derribando a los defensas. No pudieron frenarlo y Matias marcó un espectacular Try que hizo vibrar al público. Lanzó el balón con furia al suelo y flexionó sus brazos para enseñar quien manda, mientras oia como la gente coreaba su nombre.Toda la atención estaba puesta en él y en sus excelentes habilidades. Y para las chicas que gritaban por él, les lanzó un beso que las dejó embobadas. Pero previamente a esa anotación, quien le había lanzado el pase a Matias aún quedó en el piso agarrandose de su pierna mientras gritaba de dolor. Un choque contra un rival lo dejó malherido. El sr Rockwells, pidió un tiempo, y sorpresivamente evaluó un cambio que tomó a muchos por sorpresa. -- "Joel, ve calentando. Tu entrarás a reemplazarlo" -- "Q-q que? yoo?" --. La decisión incluso lo tomó por sorpresa a él. Lo merecía. Con su progreso constante -y rápido- había logrado equiparar su potencia a la del resto de los muchachos del equipo, e incluso muy cerca del rendimiento de Matias. -- "Tranquilo. Haz tu mejor esfuerzo en el campo" Joel entró al campo, y cuando cruzó a Matias, éste e palmeó la espalda -- "Tranquilo, estoy seguro que lo harás muy bien" --. PIIIIIIIIIIII, sonó el silbato y el juego se reanudó con todos posicionados sobre el campo. Matias tomó el balón y en la primera jugada se la lanzó a Joel. Podria pensarse que fue una acción generosa e inclusiva de su parte para con Joel, pero no. Matias sonrió, saboreando el inminente desastre de ver como los 3 fornidos de la defensa rival avanzaban hacia Joel dispuestos a no dejarlo pasar y a arrebatarle el balón. -- "Pobre Joel, no tiene ni la mas minima chance, lo harán puré HAHAH" El primer defensa se lanzó sobre inexpero, pero agilmente pudo esquivarlo con una salto. Pero pasos mas adelante, otros dos defensas estaban decididos a bloquearle el paso. Cuando lo tuvieron cerca, ambos se lanzaron sobre Joel, y cada uno de ellos se le aferró a una pierna para evitar que alcance la linea y logre convertir un try. Pero Joel, pese a tener a los dos defensas que pesaban facilmente unos 80-85 kilos aferrados a sus piernas, continuó su trayectoria hacia adelante. No podían frenarlo. La sonrisa de Matias se desdibujó al instante. -- "Pero que mierda??!... Imposible. Quien se cree que es ese gusano novato?!", se dijo a si mismo. Y contra todo pronóstico, incluso del entrenador, Joel logró cruzar la línea blanca y convirtió un Try!!. La tribuna que estaba sentada en las gradas, se puso de pie y ovacionó la gran jugada del muchacho. Los chicos fueron a abrazarlo y a felicitarlo.. incluso Matias quien no tenía otra opción. Y unas chicas, que antes le gritaban al capitán, ahora entre ellas se preguntaban quien era ese muchacho nuevo y apuesto. -- "Maldicion!.. solo tuvo un poco de suerte" -- refunfuñó Matias. Unos pocos minutos después, el árbitro dió por finalizado el encuentro y el marcador cerró con 20 puntos de ventaja. El entrenador los felicitó, en especial a su jugador revelación. -- "Estuviste estupendo Joel. No puedo creer que te hayas cargado a esos dos defensas tú solo" A los elogios del entrenador, también se le sumaron Hugo, Andrés y los otros chicos del equipo. Excepto de uno de ellos, que para evitar seguir oyendo como felicitaban a Joel, se fue apresurado al vestuario. "Esos defensas eran de papel..." -- se dijo a si mismo Matias, minimizando el gran desempeño del principiante. Aunque en el fondo era consciente que no cualquiera hubiese podido contra esos dos defensas, y menos un simple novato, solo que se negaba a admitirlo CONTINUARÁ...

PARTE 5 Joel entró tardiamente al vestuario para cambiarse de ropa antes de comenzar el entrenamiento. Siempre lo hacía sobre la hora, esperando a que los otros muchachos ya se hayan ido al campo, y asi cambiarse a solas en el vestuario. Y es que, sentía mucha verguenza tener que desnudarse frente a otros chicos. Pero esta vez, todos aún seguian allí, reunidos en una ronda, hablando y riendo. Matias estaba con una cinta métrica en la mano. --"Mmm.. 38 centímetros, Andrés. Igual que los biceps de Sergio... ambos al fondo de la tabla HAHAH" --. Matias lo vió entrar a Joel, y le levantó la mano. --"Oh hablando de fondo de la tabla ja!... LLegaste justo, VEN, ACÉRCATÉ AQUI!" --. -- "Yo?" --. dijo avanzando lentamente. Cuando Matias lo tuvo cerca, le pidió que flexione su biceps. -- "Q-q que, yo no.. n-no yo no..." --. Intentó negarse. Era tímido para esas cosas. -- "Oh vamos, Little-Joe !!. Solo será un segundo" --. Sin darle espacio personal a Joel, le levantó el brazo por encima del hombro y empezó a apoyarle la cinta métrica en el brazo. Joel, con su timida y sumisa actitud, cedió ante la presión y flexionó su brazo con fuerza mientras Matias terminaba de envolver la cinta métrica alrededor de su biceps. Matias se puso serio e hizo unos segundos de silencio... El resultado lo sorprendió un poco, porque esperaba que fuera bastante menos. Luego, reveló el número riendo fiel a su estilo burlón. -- "HAHAHA.. 37 centimetros para el little-Joe" --. Exclamó. Pero Matias estaba mintiendo, porque le restó un centímetro a lo que indicaba la cinta métrica. -- "Hey, buen tamaño. Ese biceps está bastante bien" -- expresó Hugo, y otro de los chicos también estuvo de acuerdo con esa opinión. -- "PFFF...Ustedes dicen eso porque todavía no han visto mis brazos flexionados JA!. Vamos, MI TURNO!, Joel te doy el honor a que sean tú quien los mida" -- dijo Matias flexionando su brazo derecho con orgullo. Al contraer el brazo, su biceps se infló como una bola, y duro como roca. Joel empezó a enrollar la cinta métrica sobre el biceps del capitán, mientras se escuchaban los comentarios "woow es enorme", "Ese biceps se ve muy fuerte", "Con razón tiene tanta fuerza en sus lanzamientos". Elogios que eran como un dulce nectar para su ego. -- "Y?.. Y?". -- Se mostraba ansioso Matias -- "Oh vaya... wow!! 42 centimetros" -- dictó Joel -- "No no no. Debes haber medido mal, porque estos bebés miden 43 centimetros" -- resaltó.-- "¡¡43!!. El año pasado apenas median 42, JAAA!" ---. Dijo Matias mintiendo de nuevo para impresionar mas a sus compañeros --. "Así es como se ven los brazos de un verdadero hombre JA!!" ---. Dicho eso, se acercó a Joel con su brazo aún contraido, y lo puso a su lado. --"Bueno, sin ofender, pero tus brazos se ven bien pequeños al lado de los mios JAJAJ" --. Sergio miró ambos brazos de cerca y se atrevió a opinar --"Se ven impresionante, Matias" --. -- "Oh gracias" --. -- "Pero.." -- agregó Sergio -- "Pero no ve tanta diferencia" -- "Pero que dices?! JA!" --. Pese a que Sergio estaba en lo correcto con su observación, Matias no quería admitirlo. -- "Lo dices porque estas celoso!" --. Y para reforzar su superioridad, flexionó ambos brazos lo que lo dotaban de un tamaño intimidante. En ese momento, llegó el entrenador al vestuario disculpándose por la demora. -- "Bueno chicos, vayan al campo que en 5 minutos comenzamos" --. Todos los muchachos fueron saliendo, y cuando el vestuario quedó vacio, Joel aprovecho para cambiarse de ropa. Se acercó al espejo, y al verse los biceps los notó mas gruesos que hace unos dias atrás. Ya no era su imaginación, ni un una cuestión de luz. Timidamente empezó a flexionarlos, y a amar la imagen que el espejo le devolvía. Notó también que tenía algunas lineas nuevas que su cuerpo nunca antes había tenido. -- "Vaya..." -- "Heeey, ¿pasó algo? Te estamos esperando en el campo" El ingreso repentino de uno de los chicos lo tomó por sorpresa. Rapidamente se calzó la camiseta para que no viera su torso. -- "S-s si si, ahi mismo voy" --. Se terminó de acomodar la camiseta deportiva y fue hacia el campo, listo para entrenar CONTINUARÁ.... El finde, alguna parte cortita con nueva foto de progreso jejej. Espero le esté gustando...

I wonder if Henry is going to grow his S/H/G to please Zack and make him crazy about it. Can't wait to see what his buddy, Ray, gonna do.

Zack woke up. Immediately he felt a corse roughness on his back, then the pain in his head registered. His vision blurred and the sounds were a faint hum in his ears. He was momentarily transported to when he was 4. He had fallen off his bike while going down a hill, his mom was nowhere to be seen, but when his vision cleared he saw his neighbor, a young college hunk with bright blond hair and strong arms who had picked him up and carried him home. As his vision cleared now, he saw a different face, an older, more chiseled and rugged face. Zack’s head was pounding and he was struggling to hold on to consciousness. “Zack, Zack! Are you okay?!” A deep voice was calling from the back of his mind. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep. “Zack! WAKE UP!” The voice commanded, and his body responded in spite of itself. Zack’s eyes shot open and he was brought back to the present. The rough rocky sand under his back was driving into his skin. He lifted his body, trying to escape the sharp rocks that were digging into his fair skin, but he didn’t have the strength. “Take it easy.” The voice said, and suddenly the feeling of the sharp rock subsided and he was weightless. “Are you okay?” Zack blinked, once. The sky cleared, it looked just as blue and cloudless as he remembered it. He blocked twice, and the handsome face reappeared. “Zack, please.” The low voice called, sounding as if it were an echo in a cave. “ZACK!” The echo of the voice stopped and it resounded into a clear and deafening call, bringing him fully back to him body. Zack raised his hand to his head and gripped it, feeling an odd texture as he pulled his hand away. “Oh thank god!” The voice said as Zack’s head rolled around, it felt too heavy for his shoulders, too much to hold up on his own. But he realized he didn’t need to, his head was supported by a large rock. “Wh-what happened?” Zack said, his mind fog clearing as he remembered his circumstances. He remembered Henry calling him to the water, and then nothing. As his mind cleared and his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, he saw Henry’s big face looking down at him. Zack realized quickly his head wasn’t propped up on a rock, but by Henry’s big bicep, he was cradled in Henry’s arms. “Are you okay?” Henry said, placing two large fingers to Zack’s neck, feeling for his pulse. “I’m…” Zack began. He took inventory of his body. His head hurt, he had a strange sensation of safety and comfort, and his body felt weak, but otherwise he felt fine. “I’m okay.” Zack said, raising his head, only to be met by Henry’s large hands pushing his head back down into his arms. “Just relax, you took a little fall.” Henry said, staring at Zack with his deeply colored eyes, the concern in them laid bare. “What happened?” Zack repeated. “You dove into the water and hit a rock. Your head was bleeding, but I got you. You’re okay.” As Henry said this, Zack felt the big man hold him a little tighter, not enough to hurt, but just enough for Zack to feel how his body was completely surrounded by Henry’s. “You’re lucky I had training as a combat medic at some point.” Henry said, his hand applying pressure to whatever was on Zack’s forehead. “What’s this?” Zack said, feeling his head. “You were bleeding just a little, so I wrapped your head with my shirt to stop it; do you think you can walk back to the house on your own?” Zack tried to move his legs, but they felt heavy as lead, after the workout and run, and then a concussion, Zack was exhausted. “I probably could, but…” Zack’s voice trailed off, he knew what he wanted to ask, but was afraid of the rejection and judgement which may follow. “You wan’t me to pack you back to the house?” Henry offered, along with a warm smile, his bright teeth reflecting sunlight down, he looked angelic with the setting sun creating a halo of light around his hulking body. “Would you?” Zack asked. “Of course.” Henry said, he moved Zack effortlessly and draped him over his back like a superhero donning a cape. Zack reached his arms around Henry’s thickly muscled neck, and wrapped his legs around Henry’s side, where the big man hooked his bulging arms under Zack’s knees, holding him up. Zack’s face was so close to Henry’s neck, he could smell the intoxicating scent of his dried sweat that had collected on his neck. As Zack imagined licking up along the large trapezius muscle upon which his chin rested, he felt a boner come, it pushed itself into Henry’s back as they walked through the woods. Zack wanted to be embarrassed, or even to care at all, but he was too tired to even care. He felt himself drifting closer to sleep, and then Henry began to speak to him to keep him awake. “You know, I spoke with your mom this morning.” He said, Zack’s ears perking up hearing about his mother. “She seems to be excited you’re getting to spend some time out here with me, she always thought we’d like each other.” He said, his heavy feet thumping along in an even march through the dense thick of trees and foliage. “I also think my buddy Ray may be coming up next week to go fishing, he’d stay at my place, but only if you’re okay with it.” Henry said, Zack knew he was just trying to create conversation to keep him awake and engaged. “I think you’d like Ray, I met him in the service too, but we took different paths after. He’s a business guy now, runs some company in the city, makes good money on it too.” Henry looked back at Zack to make sure he was still conscious, “So would it be okay if he came up here for a few days next week?” “There’s only two rooms here?” Zack said, for some reason his main concern was where this new stranger would be sleeping? “He said he would probably sleep in a tent by the lake, but if it storms or something, he can also sleep on the pullout couch.” “In a tent by the lake…” Zack said, letting his mind imagine being shoved into a small tent with Henry himself, being held close for warmth, using the large man’s body as a mattress, Zack’s cock throbbed in his pants as it rubbed up and down Henry’s sweaty back as they neared the cabin. Once inside, Henry lay Zack down on the sofa, and he sat in a chair adjacent to the couch. Henry got Zack an ice pack and properly cleaned the wound on his head. Zack used his phone to see, and the damage wasn’t bad, more of a scrape than anything, it didn’t even need a bandage. Zack drank some water and Henry encouraged him to get some rest. Henry told him it didn’t look severe, but he’d check on him every few hours. Zack drifted off into dreamless sleep. He wasn’t sure how long, but he woke up to a gentle shaking. “How are you feeling?” Henry asked. “A little tired, but my headache is gone now.” “Good.” Henry said, “Go back to sleep, I’ll be here if you need anything.” Zack went back to sleep. The next time he woke up, Henry was still in the chair. He was wearing a shirt, but he had foregone pants. Henry was asleep in the chair, reclined the slightest bit. He had his hands behind his head, his melon sized biceps bulging forward looking like they would squash his head if he brought them closer. In his slight reclined position, with his arms up, his shirt had pulled up just a bit, Zack could see Henry’s Adonis belt and the veins which led down into his briefs. Henry’s cock had never looked so swollen to Zack. Zack could clearly see the outline of Henry’s big cock head as it rested in the front of the pouch, connected to a thick tube of cock meat, the veins pronounced and visible in the thin fabric as it reflected back the moonlight pouring in through the window. Henry moved, and Zack quickly closed his eyes to avoid getting caught staring, how creepy would that be? But, after a quick shuffling noise, everything was quiet again. Zack cracked one eye open to peek. Henry was still in the chair, still asleep. He had just lowered himself down into the chair more, and spread his legs…Zack gasped when he saw it, his cock responding immediately with a rush of blood. When Henry had moved his legs, one of his balls fell out of the bottom of the too small briefs, no doubt pushed out by the massive cock which dominated the front of the underwear. Zack could see in the dim light, one huge nut exposed between the monster quads. It looked like the size of Zack’s fist as it hung low, sticking to Henry’s leg in the heat of the cabin. Zack stared, his mouth watering, his cock aching as he fantasized about the rest of Henry’s junk shoved into the briefs. Zack knew he’d never get to sleep with this sprawling in front of him, he had to get to his room. Quietly, he removed the cover from his body and tried to get up making as little noise as possible. His skin sticking to the leather making noise as he moved, the floorboards creaking as he stood, and yet, Henry’s big chest continued to rise and fall in a steady pattern. Zack crept past the couch, and started down the hallway. “Where do you think you’re going?” The voice startled Zack and he jumped, feeling his heart quicken. Zack turned around to see Henry in the same position, the only difference now was his eyes were open. “I was going to lay in bed.” Zack said. Henry yawned, stretching his arms up and his legs out. The shirt pulled up even more on his torso, exposing the bottom two abs. “What, you didn’t enjoy the show out here?” Henry said as he casually adjusted his crotch and shoved his swollen testicle back into the strained briefs. “I…uh…” Zack began unsure if Henry knew how long he’d stared at him before getting up. Henry stood and crossed the living room. The light silhouetting his body, accentuating the bulging muscles. He turned to his side and Zack saw his cock had grown. It was sticking out in front of Henry, pushing the briefs away from his body. Henry walked forward slowly, lumbering and heavy, but not breaking eye contact with Zack. Zack felt shivers run up his spine as terror filled him. This was it, Henry was going to kill him for staring at his exposed nut. Henry strutted closer, the light still playing off of his body, he seemed giant as he took step after step towards Zack. As he did, he undid the top button to the shirt he had on, his chest hair began to spill out, the few grey silver hairs glinting in the faded light. Henry stopped about a foot away from Zack, his cock pointing forward about to poke Zack if Henry moved any closer. “You seem tense, Zack.” Henry began, “Are you sure you feel okay?” Henry cocked his head to the side and stared down at Zack. “Okay.” Zack said, letting out a deep breath and trying not to stare at the cock twitching in front of him. “It’s you, you scare me.” Henry raised an eyebrow. He reached forward and cupped Zack’s face in one large hand, bending Zack’s chin up so he was looking back at Henry. “I thought we went over this already. I’d never hurt you.” “I know.” Zack said, fighting to keep eye contact and say what he needed. “But…I’m scared of what you’d do if you found out I was gay.” Henry dropped his hand away from Zack’s face, and squatted down so he was eye to eye with Zack. He had a grin on his face, and Zack couldn’t translate it in any meaningful way. He chuckled, the deep rumbling sound coming through his grin. “You think I haven’t pieced that one together yet? The way you always bone up every time I’m around. That little face you make when you’re about to cum when all I do is flex? You’re doing a piss poor job of hiding it all if that’s what you were trying to do.” Henry paused, taking a deep breath in, “I thought you were trying to tease me.” Zack’s eyes widened as the implication set in. Henry had known the entire time and he thought ZACK was trying to tease HIM? “Why don’t you head on to bed little boy.” Henry said as he stood back up to his full height. “I think I’ll head to bed too.” Henry yawned again, his cock still twitching and growing. Zack turned to walk to his room, and he could still feel Henry’s presence behind him. As they walked down the hallway, Zack could feel Henry’s cock poking him in the back, it wasn’t even fully hard. He felt like a prisoner being marched the way the heavy dick was pushing him forward. But it was blowing Zack’s mind that he was still somewhat soft, how big did that thing get? Zack stopped at his door and turned around. Henry was still there, although as he’d walked down the hallway he’d unbuttoned the next button on his shirt, leaving only four buttons holding back his muscular mass. “Can I help you?” Henry said, looking over his massive pecs at Zack. “No, I, uh, I just…” Zack was floundering his words, every cell in his body was screaming over the walking wet dream in front of him. “Why don’t you help me out, huh?” Henry said, reaching forward quickly and seizing Zack’s hands. He brought them up to his shirt and placed Zack’s hands on the next button. “Help daddy out of this tight shirt, you’re good at it.” Did he just call himself daddy? It struck Zack as odd, but he had to admit it was fucking hot. Zack fumbled with the button, it was about eye level, but it was smack dab in the middle of Henry’s pecs. The beast was swelling his chest up, the fabric of the shirt pulling on the button from either side. Zack worked the button, but it was tight, every time he got close, Henry would pump his pecs up just a little more, making it harder for Zack to finish what he’d started. In the dark of the hallway he could feel Henry’s eyes staring down at him, and he could feel his hot breath as Henry filled his huge lungs full of air, and then let it out. “Here, move a bit closer, that may help.” Henry grabbed Zack by the shoulders and pulled his body towards his, as he did his bulge shoved into Zack’s torso, it was so big, but still soft. Zack retracted his body, sucking in his stomach and pulling his chest in to minimize contact with the hot package dominating his every other thought. The other thoughts were devoted to undoing the buttons. He finally got the button on Henry’s chest after the big man exhaled and stopping growing his barrel chest. As he moved down to the next button at the top of Henry’s abs, Zack could feel the dense hair pouring out of Henry’s open shirt. Zack savored the feeling of the soft fur for a moment as he started on the next button. “You’re so big.” Zack said, almost to himself, but just loud enough that Henry heard. “Tell me, Zack.” Henry said as Zack undid the next button in line, “Have you ever seen anyone as big as me?” “No.” Was all Zack could say, and it was the truth. “You like big muscles don’t ya boy?” Henry said, Zack undoing the next button, only one left. “I..I..”Zack couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. “You don’t need to say it…”. Henry said as he moved his big quad forward and brushed it against Zack’s throbbing cock, flexing it, and rubbing Zack’s cock with the rippling muscle. “Do daddy’s muscles get you hard?” Zack undid the last button, and Henry shook off the shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Clouds must have moved and exposed the moon because suddenly the hallway was washed with pale moonlight. Henry moved and Zack was trapped between him, and the wall. Zack could see the thick hair on his chest, and Henry stepped closer and he could feel it on his face. Zack turned his head, fighting with every ounce of his being to not give up and give in. Henry’s bulge pressed into him, Zack was lightheaded. Henry grabbed Zack’s hand from his side and slammed it onto his rock hard abs. Zack could make out 6 distinct abs, and another two coming in at the top. “You feel how hard those abs are?” Henry said, and he flexed them, Zack’s fingers trapped in the deep grooves between to of the huge ab muscles. “Look at that, they’re bigger than the palm of your hand.” Zack flattened his hand on Henry’s flexed stomach, and Henry relaxed his flex. Zack could feel the thick hair that formed Henry’s happy trail, leading into the underwear that seemed smaller and smaller each time Zack looked. “I’m going to ask you again.” Henry said, stepping even closer to Zack, almost squishing him between his body and the wall. Zack could feel Henry flexing and unflexing his washboard abs as they rubbed against Zack’s small body. “Do you… like my muscles?” “Yes.” Zack whimpered out, his cock milliseconds away from exploding in his pants. Zack’s face was buried in between the deep crevice between Henry’s hair pecs, each breath Zack took he smelled Henry’s clean manly scent, the long chest hairs tickling his nose and face. Then Henry stepped back, Zack’s face releasing from between the pecs, the pressure of flexed abs disappearing, the impressive bulge no longer pulsing against his body, the flexed quad pulled away from his cock just as he felt like cumming. Zack let out a breath, his tense body relaxing. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Henry said in his deep gruff voice. His heavy footsteps carrying him down the hall, and he shut the door to his room. Zack went into his room. What the fuck was that. If Henry wanted more, he just wouldn’t say so. Zack was so confused, why would he say those things, made Zack take his shirt off, poke his huge bulge all over Zack’s body if he wasn’t interested in more? Zack knew he could never make the first move, the fear of rejection overwhelming him even at the thought. If he made a pass at Henry, and Henry rejected him, he wasn’t sure he’d make it out alive. But his throbbing cock was clouding his entire train of thought, begging for release. Zack pulled down his pants and his little boner sprang free, he no more than grazed it with his hand, and the memory of Henry’s huge flexing muscles pressed against him, the feeling of his hand on Henry’s massive abs, the thick covered cock shoving into him. Zack came, his small balls pumping out every last bit of cum that could hold, all to the thought of Henry. Zack cleaned his mess up off the floor, thankfully he didn’t cum a lot. He climbed into bed, his heart still pounding over his interaction with Henry. Zack made a decision, a choice, he would seduce Henry. He would make the big man want him so bad, he’d have no choice but to make a move; he was done being a passive player in Henry’s teasing game, it was his turn to go on the offensive. The next morning Zack woke to a knock at his door. “Zack.” Henry called from the other side of the door before he gently pushed it open. He was shirtless, in baggy swim trunks that went down past his knees, his hair matted with sweat, and a large towel around his broad shoulders. “I’m sorry, I worked out without you this morning, I figured you could use the rest. I’m going to take a dip in the hot tub and relax my muscles, don’t want these big boys cramping up on me.” Henry said, and he flexed his arm, his big bicep exploding with veins and striations, his forearm popping with cords of muscle. Then he was gone. Zack’s plan came flooding back into his mind, and he knew it was his chance to begin. Getting out of bed, Zack tore through his totes of clothes, looking for the perfect thing, and then he found it. A bright pink speedo. Now, think what you want about Zack’s body, his slender frame and small cock be damned because he knew his tight muscles looked good on him, he knew his beautiful face, sharp jawline, and tossed hair looked good, and above all, he knew he had a great ass. It was perky and round, smooth as a baby’s, he could flex it and make it hard, but in it’s natural state it jiggled like jello. Zack slid on the speedo, tucking his cock in, and then, pulled the tight fabric over his ass. He walked to the bathroom and tussled his hair a bit, looking at himself in the mirror he knew he was hot, and he’d break Henry. He grabbed a towel and went out the back door towards the gym. He had the towel wrapped around his waist, preparing his smirk for the big reveal. He entered the gym, and walked straight through to the back room. Opening the door and walking in, he say Henry relaxing in the steaming water. His head was laid back, his body submerged, he looked calm, peaceful. Zack walked to the hot tub, “Mind if I join big guy?” Henry opened one eye and looked at Zack, and then closed his eyes again. “Not at all, come on in.” Fuck! Zack thought, if he’s not looking then the speedo, the reveal, the SMIRK, none of it would work. “Where can I put my towel?” Zack asked. “Right there on the wall next to mine.” Henry replied, still not opening his eyes. Zack hung up his towel, and stepped up to the side of the hot tub, throwing a leg over and feeling the warm water touch his skin, as he did, Henry opened his eyes a bit, and then opened them fully. “Nice bathing suit.” Henry said, a smile appearing on his face. “Thanks.” Zack said back, “It’s all I have here, but it gets the job done.” “I bet it does.” Henry said to himself, just loud enough for Zack to hear. Zack lowered himself down into the water, he noticed how Henry’s chest sat just above the water line, his nipples, pointed down by the weight of his chest, were gently grazing the water. As it ebbed and flowed, it would lap over his nipples, and then pull away, leaving them erect at the sudden cold air on them. Zack stared at Henry’s armpits, they were so deep. “So are you feeling better from yesterday?” Henry asked, keeping his eyes closed. “I feel fantastic.” Zack said, trying to send a mental message and will Henry to open his eyes. “So, what did you workout today?” Henry stirred, “I did arms, can’t you tell by how pumped they look.” With that Henry flexed both of his arms in a double bicep pose. “Your whole body always looks pumped, it’s hard to tell.” Zack said. This more forward direction with Henry felt good to Zack, he enjoyed the tease much more than he’d even imagined. “Yeah, you seemed to enjoy them quite a bit last night.” Henry said, raising an eyebrow at Zack. “Oh, that. I’m 18, a light breeze and I get hard.” Zack played it as casually as he could. “So tell me. Since last night you said you liked my big muscles. Which one would you say is your favorite?” Henry dropped his gaze on to Zack. “Well.” Zack began, clearing his throat. He knew this next sentence would be a leap of faith. “I haven’t seen ALL of your muscles, so I don’t think I can say.” Henry chuckled, his bouncing chest creating waves in the water. “Tell you what. How about you give me a massage, it will help me not get so sore from the brutal workout this morning. Then after you’ve felt all my muscles, you can tell me what your favorite is.” Zack raised his eyebrow at Henry, “Alright, deal.” With that Zack stood up, steam rolling off his body, and his speedo suctioned to his ass. he looked back over his shoulder and he could swear he caught Henry staring at his ass. Then Henry stood up. The water level dropped as his massive body stopped displacing water. But that wasn’t what caught Zack’s attention. Henry had shed his long swim trunks, and in their place was what Zack could only guess were maybe 5” inseam shorts, packed full of man. The trunks clung to Henry, his huge balls and thick cock visible in the wrinkles of the wet shorts. “After you.” Henry said, motioned Zack out of the hot tub. They dried off, and Henry walked over to the massage table and laid face down, no words exchanged. Zack followed him and stood beside the table. He took in the sight before him. Henry’s huge body, still a little wet, presented in front of him, and he was going to get to feel it all.

Chapter 8 Six years later Although the use of B-852 had been outlawed in most countries, the effects it had already had on the population were... noticeable. The world had become just a little taller, with most people who chose to take the drug experiencing 1-2 inches of growth to their height and a small boost to muscle mass. The amount of people who experienced growth on the level seen by Trent and his friends was a miniscule fraction; but it was also a fairly large sample size. So it was that very few people paid attention to the large man lumbering up the steps and ducking into a gym - almost 9ft tall, broad shoulders and arms that seemed too long for his body, needing to duck under even the larger doorway of the gym proper. He looks around him. The gym itself looks much like any other, except that several of the machines are larger, and some of the weights by the wall extend to near cartoonish proportions. Additionally there are sofas and comfortable chairs that make up small resting areas dotted around the space. There are some people in here working out, but his focus is drawn to the center of the floor where a small crowd is gathered. People of all sizes, ranging from sub-6 foot right the way to almost 8, are standing around, shouting words of encouragement, cheering and hollering. At the centre of the crowd is a man that is bigger than them all. Built like a bodybuilder but blown up past any conceivable proportion; his arms alone look larger than several of the smallest people in the crowd. It’s hard to tell from this position, but he may even be taller than his unseen watcher, supported by a pair of thick, tree trunk legs that support his titanic form. He shouts louder than anyone here. “Come on buddy! You can do it - nine! Just one more, go! Go! GO! TEN!” The gathered group explodes like an arena crowd as the huge man easily takes the bar away from the lifter in a single hand and racks it. The lifter sits up - a small man, barely 5’8 with spindly thin arms and a flushed red expression of goofy pride on his face. People in the crowd reach forward to pat him on the back, or slap his hand. “You see that? Man, that’s incredible. That’s progress. You could barely do one of those when you came in at first, and now look at you! It’s a small step, but what do we take, everybody?” “One step at a time” the crowd responds back. “Damn right!” He opens his mouth to continue, but as he scans the crowd he notices the newcomer by the gym doors, “Hey, Carli, you’re up - Nath, can you spot her? I just need a second.” He leaves the group and makes his way over to the entrance. With a gulp, the newcomer realizes he was right, and cranes his head upwards to look at the trainer, who must logically be over 9 feet tall. “Hi Adam, long time no see…” “Cut the crap, Seb, what do you want?” Sebastian gulps, his eyes scanning the room. The bulk of the crowd had resumed their activity of cheering on their friend, but he can see one or two of them looking over, as well as other faces around the gym, quietly taking stock of the situation. Not that they needed to. Adam was more than enough to handle himself, and the last time the two of them had crossed paths plays prominently in Seb’s mind. He licks his lips nervously. “I’m not here for trouble.” “You’re damn well gonna get it if you don’t answer the question; what do you want, Seb?” Adam demands again. Seb’s voice cracks as he finds his answer. “I need help. That’s what this place is for, right? Helping people?” “Normally, yeah; for you I think we’d make an exception, though. How fucking dare you?” “I know I have no right to-” “Goddamn right you have no right! Fucking hell, Seb, and I didn’t think you could stoop any lower!” Adam continues, as Seb looks away. His voice is a low hiss, meant to hide the confrontation from the more vulnerable members of the gym, but by this point, there isn’t a pair of eyes in the room not fixed on the pair. “What’s happened, huh? You fuck up your life so bad, you think you can throw yourself at the feet of the people you treated the shittiest? You’re fucked up, man. Get out.” “No, please - “ “I said OUT, before I make you-” “At least ask him!” Seb’s begging gives Adam pause for just a second, and he continues, “It’s his choice right? He should get the decision…” Adam scowls. The shitbag was right, but he didn’t like it. He glances around, seeing the attention he’s getting. “You wanna see the Big Man? Fine. I’ll let him know you’re here. But if he wants you gone, I’m gonna enjoy every second of throwing you through that door. Stick close.” Adam turns on his heels, and Sebastian knows better than to disobey him. The way he talked about him - the Big Man? He’d had a vague idea that Adam was going to outsize him, his face was everywhere between the social media and minor celebrity status it’d gained him. But Trent… outside of an article he found, interviewing him about the opening of the gym, there was nothing. He lived a pretty private life. Just how big had he gotten, with his catalyzed dose of the drug? Exactly what was he going to find here? Adam leads him through a hallway that branches off from the back of the gym, rounds a corner and ends in a doorway, of the same larger design all the doors in the building appear to have. “Wait here,” he says, before dipping inside. Seb waits for what seems an age, though in reality is less than a minute. He hears the rumble of voices on the other side, and finally, the door cracks back open. “You’re a luckier man than you deserve. Come in.” Sebastian steps through the door, his heart in his mouth, and enters the office. The room is warmly decorated, clearly designed to be welcoming to visitors, though Seb couldn’t feel more unwanted. There’s plants, some certificates, and a few photographs - one prominent one on the wall shows a bearded man, another man with sandy hair, and a young girl being cuddled by them both. There’s comfortable, oversized armchairs that face a large desk, and behind it, rising to his feet, is Trent. Seb’s jaw drops. The man before him is smaller than he remembers. He’d been pushing seven and a half feet during their confrontation on the beach, and whilst he certainly still clears that seven foot mark, he seems obviously shorter. Or was Seb just bigger? But, no - although the sweater Trent wears masks some of his frame, it’s plain to see that he’s smaller than before. Not as ripped or as bulging. But other than that, the same beard, his shaggy hair perhaps flecked with just a touch of grey. Just smaller. What the hell had happened? Meanwhile, Trent looks his once-friend, once-tormentor, up and down with concern. He notes the bags under his eyes for a start, the generally unkempt look. Most concerning, though, was the telltale bruising on his arms, and a red, waxy look to his skin. He looks at Adam and speaks softly. “Thanks, Adam. Would you mind leaving the two of us to hash this out?” “What? After what he tried to pull last time?” Adam asks in disbelief, “No way, Trent, I’m staying right here.” “Please. This isn’t the same as last time. I can always shout for help if I need it, but I won’t” Adam pushes, plaintively. Adam looks at him, then to Seb, then back to Trent. “Fine. But I’m staying within earshot, and if you’re not done in ten minutes, I’m coming back in!” “Make it twenty,” Trent asks, smiling ruefully as Adam leaves, closing the door behind himself. “Take a seat,” he says to Sebastian, gesturing and taking his own. “I didn’t know he worked here,” Seb says hoarsely, uncomfortably doing as he was asked. “He doesn’t,” Trent says simply, “But he volunteers from time to time. Plus he’s one of our biggest donors, since we got charitable status. The lights wouldn’t be on if not for him.” “Charitable status? I thought you were a gym?” “We are - or at least that’s a part of it. What we offer is counselling, help for those who need it in a post-852 world. But I think you know that already?” He asks, studying Seb’s face. The large man can’t keep eye contact. “What are you using?” Seb’s attention is grabbed again as he regards Trent with disbelief - how did he know? - but he thinks twice about trying to deceive him. “Anything I can.” “Seb, you didn’t need to come all the way down here to learn that shit’s not good for you. Why the fuck are you doing it to yourself?” “Because I’m not big enough!” Seb snaps, on the verge of tears, his eyes wild. Trent had been afraid that might be the answer. The effects of the B-852 drug had seemed to be random, with less than 1 in 10,000 experiencing the level of extreme growth Trent had seen first hand - and, through a cosmic fluke, that he was able to see multiple other times. But there were others out there, slowly surfacing to the public eye. He’d even met a few. And naturally, many of them pursued careers that their size gave them an advantage in. When Brie and Abbie had started out, there was nobody physically in the same league as them, but these days they regularly faced entire teams of girls who were just the same size. Not that it mattered; whilst other women could match them for height or athleticism, there were none that came close to the near psychic levels of synchronicity the two shared. The pair were a perfect team, and a menace to every opponent they faced. This was not the case for Sebastian. Trent had tried his best to ignore the plights Seb had been through, but to do so completely was impossible; it was all very public. From the incident at the nightclub and the young man he’d nearly killed, to the very transparent injustice that had followed, and the public backlash. Sebastian had walked away scot free, his lawyers having the footage of him actually committing the actual assault stricken from evidence. Seb got to keep everything, along with his place on the team - for a short while at least. He was, at the time, their star player, his superior size and strength making him a one-man army, practically capable of carrying any game by himself. But then others joined the team, and new big names started playing for other teams. It became quickly apparent that, on a level playing field, Sebastian Greene had very little to offer. He was dropped two seasons later, and that’s the last Trent had heard about it. But to reach this state… “Seb… how can you possibly not be big enough? You must be, what, 9 feet tall?” “Not yet… not ever. Oh fuck…” Sebastian’s hands shake as the tears fully fall now, unable to contain his sense of desperation. “It’s all over. I’ve not grown in more than a year. I’m fucking done for.” Trent simply watches. It’s hard to. There was a time when the mere thought of this man filled him with rage - but the years had quelled that flame. He felt revulsion, but it was now diluted with pity. “I thought you could help me,” Seb continues, “It’s what you do right? Make people bigger? But then I saw you and - god, is this what’s going to happen to me now?” Trent is confused for a moment, before the realization hits; he was bigger, the last time they had met. “And what would be wrong in being like me? I’ve got a gorgeous husband, a beautiful daughter, a fulfilling career - what exactly is the problem?” Trent pushes, anticipating the answer. “I don’t have that. My size is all I have! I can’t afford to lose it!” Sebastian pleads, as if Trent had any control over the issue. “You're not on the verge of shrinking. I took the antidote.” Trent’s words have all the effect of a slap to Seb’s face. Trent can see the cogs whirring away in there, trying to come to terms with what he’d just said, attempting to rearrange the words in a way he could possibly comprehend. The best Sebastian can come up with, after a long period of silence; “Why?” “Because I was big enough. No, if anything I was too big.” Trent, corrects himself, standing up and walking over to the photo of Lance and their daughter. “Too big for ceilings, for plane journeys. I had to eat too much food. I had to work out every spare second I had. It was exhausting. And yeah, I enjoyed the stares at first. But past a certain point - it's all meaningless, right? I'd long since passed the point at which all that strength and size made any meaningful improvement in my life. And sometimes... sometimes I just wanted to look my husband in the eye. So I spoke to my doctor, I arranged to take the shot - and I don’t regret it for one second.” “You - you chose to be small?” Seb stammers, still unable to process the fact. “I’m 7’1”, Sebastian, I’m hardly a hobbit,” Trent replies, turning round to look at him, “I’m not small. I never was small, really, but I was just too stupid to see it. And I had somebody telling me the opposite - though, I think you were maybe telling yourself exactly the same thing?” “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything I ever did to you, I was out of line, I-” Sebastian begins, but Trent raises his hand. “I don’t need your apologies. I moved past that a long time ago, and to be honest - I’m not sure you’re in a place yet where you even understand what you’re apologizing for.” “I know! I know, I know, I’ve done awful things. And I’m paying for it. I can’t live like this anymore, I can’t keep being me. I need to fix me. I need help!” Sebastian continues. “You don’t have to convince me - it’s obvious that you do.” Seb’s eyes light up in hope, but Trent quickly dashes them. “Don’t get ahead of yourself - I think you should get help, I truly do, but I don’t necessarily think I’m the one to give it to you.” “But - but how…” “I have friends in the field, colleagues who might be willing to take you on-” “No!” Sebastian says, “No, it has to be you. This whole thing started with the two of us, please… you’re a part of this.” Trent’s face darkens for the first time since Sebastian had entered the room. “I’m trying very hard to keep my temper Seb, but don’t you dare try to implicate me in your actions. I am not what led you down this path,” he states tersely. “No, I didn’t mean it that way-” “Didn’t you? You only tried to apologize to me a moment ago because I brought up the way you treated me. But what about what you did to Abbie, or Adam? What about the poor man that you hospitalized? What about the dozens of people who have come into contact with your life and left the worse for it? The only thing you’re interested in, still, is getting bigger! When will it be enough, Seb? What could possibly satisfy you?” Trent demands, his blood boiling. Sebastian doesn’t speak. He studies his shoes guiltily, while Trent finds his chair and begins to calm down. “I’m sorry,” he insists, obviously still angered but with a tighter lid on it, “That was unprofessional of me - but do you see now why you would be better with someone else? We’ve got too much history together. You need someone who can treat you without judgement. Besides, I’m not sure you’d like my remedy. You don’t need any more size, Sebastian. You need to learn to accept what you have.” “And what if I could?” Seb chokes, “I don’t… I don’t want this anymore. What if I could learn to live with it? And to atone for what I’ve done….” “Do you think you even could?” “I have to,” Sebastian answers, “For you. I owe you that. Please. Please, I’ll do anything, just give me a shot…” Trent takes a deep breath, and glances once more at the picture on his wall - his conscience, steadying his heart while he wrestles with the decision. Funny choice of words really. All of this had started when he’d given Seb a shot. It was hard to believe how much had happened since then - but he’d come out of it. Stronger for it. A better man, discovering things about himself that he otherwise never would. He didn’t need to be the biggest or the strongest. He was more than happy to let others take that mantle. In fact, he enjoyed the work of bringing out that side in others, in nourishing their growth and seeing them flourish. This job was his passion, his calling in life. And sitting in front of him now is a withered husk of a man, whose start had been so similar to his own. There was nobody more in need of the help he could give. The only question is - would he? He takes another deep breath- END

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

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

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

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

part two Students gasped at the bus windows. Uploading the images to the networks with one hand and masturbating with the other. -Juan, I got horny, could you come down for a moment and come here? Juan lowered his enormous back, with difficulty moving and lowering himself from the two meters tall that his brother measures, and as he could, he stood in front of the alpha male who dominated him. With a movement that seemed superhuman, Rodolfo lifted his brother using only his monstrous cock, erect as an oak tree. -Ready for the first exercise little brother?, said Rodolfo. To everyone's surprise, the muscular teenage god wasn't just dragging a busload of college students up a mountain road from his strong, imposing waist. With his 250-pound obese brother hanging from his fucking cock as if he weighed the same as a condom, otherwise, he started lifting his brother up and down with his monster cock to exercise her. All while he was climbing the mountain. Juan was in an uncontrollable trance, his cock seemed like a fountain that never ended, now he was facing his god, with his head resting almost at the height of the shoulders of the imposing younger brother, and his cock being twisted by the fingers. huge abdominal blocks that move like a sophisticated imposing steel mechanism with movements and expansions like a machine. Now semen squirted from between the grooves of the mighty muscles. With his two arms free, Rodolfo grabs his older brother under the armpits and lifts him into the air as if he weighed nothing, but the imposing muscles of his arms glisten with sweat, orchestrating a series of movements of meandering muscle fibers and veins, protruding two huge spikes from his biceps. Rodolfo's huge cock starts dripping with pre cum, with one bold move, he manages to fit the huge head of his cock into his brother's anus. And with a ferocious move of superhuman strength, he impales him on the ass. Generating a loud and audible noise by the students who died of pleasure. Juan was used to this treatment with his weak body when his brother was aroused (and he was aroused 20 hours a day), so Juan's ass had already deformed to a huge hole size, so it was easy to accommodate his younger brother's huge cock. Rodolfo continued his impressive feat of power as he continued to lift his brother up and down this time impaled to exercise his cock. After 50 km of travel. Rodolfo stops, removes the harness from his waist. And he looks for a bottle of water that the students throw at him. Always with his obese older brother impaled on his dick. The movement of such a muscular monster was impressive, the sun shining through the blond fur on his body that glistened in the sun, his tanned skin doing its best to contain the explosion of his moving muscles, and the dance of the veins underneath. the fine skin He made a few more curls with his brother's dick, while he gasped and licked his younger brother's pecs at his command. Rodolfo holds his brother with both arms and moves it up and down with great speed, takes it out and puts it back inside his cock, opening Juan's anus more and more. The scene is impressive, the contrast of the weak body full of fat against the majestic sculpted machine is truly impressive. After going up and down his cock some 50 times, Rodolfo's cock erupts, filling his brother's ass with cum. The semen has nowhere to escape, but Rodolfo doesn't let his brother out, he presses him and keeps fucking him over and over again while the semen begins to squirt out of Juan's ass. Juan faints with pleasure while Rodolfo goes (still very excited), to the bus full of university students 5, and 10 years older than him. This is a much longer story! If you like it, help me get to 100 likes to continue with part three. Thank you! (In order not to interfere with your imagination, build your worldview of history with these photographs of Rodolfo in different planes of reality) This is a photo of Rodolfo two years ago when he became the biggest alpha male in his class.

This is the first chapter of my new series of short captions; FertiliGro. I hope you enjoy. I also post his on my bdsmlr blog. Fair warning, in addition to muscle growth content, I also post mpreg stuffs there, so be informed if that's not your thing. Future entry of this story may also contains mpreg contents too. https://beastcz.bdsmlr.com/post/168180867 I also have a blog on this forum, in case you guys want to check it out. FertiliGro Snippet 1 Ever since Jason took the new fertility-enhancing pills, FertiliGro, to help with his low sperm-count problem, he feels like a changed man. The company advertised it would help increase virility in men, improving potency and volume, as well as working like an aphrodisiac, enhancing libido and extend erection time, and all-around improve sexual experiences. It sounds too good to be true at first, but he was desperate, and there was a lot of good reviews of the product, so he bought some and began taking them. And he has to say, the advertisement weren't exaggerating the effects of the pill. If anything, it might be TOO effective. He has been horny and hard non-stop since he started them. He has to rub out a few load a day now just to keep his libido manageable. Even still, his swollen gland would still snake down his pants, throbbing and dripping with pre-cum. He also noticed other side effects. He started feeling restless if he doesn't do anything physical activity for too long. His muscle grows quickly after his time in the gym. There's more hair on his manlier body now, and his beard is coming in quickly he'd sport a fair goatee even if he shaved in the same morning. Damn, the thought of his increasingly sexy body make him hard again. Gotta take care of this. He wasn't attracted to guys before, straight as an arrow, but lately any hunks would give him a hard on as good as any bombshell, the urge to fuck overwhelm him just the same. As he powerfully stroke his breeding tool, he noticed it feels bigger and longer in his hands. The more opaque pre-cum is soaking his hands and abs. Even after he shoots, he still keep going, addicted to the powerful pleasure and mind-blowing orgasms his cock is giving him. Maybe he should go out and find someone to breed. With how virile he is right now, he might even knock a guy up. The idea sent him into another mind-blanking spurts.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2-4 Chapter 5-6 Chapter 7 CHAPTER 8 The sun well below its peak but already scalded the desert below. Sweat had long ago soaked through Lewis's skin-tight green shirt and his muscles stood out in bold relief through the fabric. He grunted as he bent over and picked up a thirty pound sand bag from the pile at his feet. After placing it on his free forearm, he bent over and loaded another on top. Then another. Then another. His arm bulged larger with every new addition, the giant vein pulsing along its peak grinding into the bags it supported. The young airman finally stopped at five bags and, after wiping dripping sweat from his brow, turned to walk the ten paces separating the pile from a three foot deep square ditch he just finished digging. He dropped the bags along the rim, organized them into a nice border along the edge with a few well placed kicks that sent his quads flaring, then turned again to retrieve more. His sweat darkened shirt clung ever tighter to his body. Deeply cut abs stood out boldly where it wasn't heavily shadowed by engorged pecs that heaved and fell with each breath. He bent over to retrieve more bags forcing his calves and hamstrings to flare in response beneath military issued shorts that rose well above mid thigh. The Christmas tree striations of his lower back bulged through the shirt as he stood. Every ripple and fold of his lats and traps writhed as he loaded another five sandbags onto his arm as if they weighed no more than couch pillows. Back and forth Lewis went, carrying his sandbags from the giant pile to line them up around his pit. That pit was ten feet by ten feet and had taken him only an hour to dig. A small crowd began to gather around him as he'd dug and had recently grown to more than twenty gawkers. Some stared in open admiration. Others made as if they stood there for other reasons and only glanced Lewis's way as if by accident as they carried on conversations that any sane person would have accomplished an air conditioned building, not in 100+ degree heat. I stood among the masses, arms cross and drenched in sweat myself. These heavy uniforms did a good job hiding my rapidly growing body but were better suited for freezing weather. I was there to officially observe Lewis's punishment for nearly strangling Whitaker. There were a number of authorized punishments available to me as the commander: reduction in rank, reduced pay, court marshal, etc. But the nineteen year old airman was already at a pretty junior rank, taking pay was relatively cruel for someone already played a pittance, and a court marshal was a little harsh since there were two sides to the story. For Whitaker, I had him reassigned to another unit on base. He'd already been gone two weeks and there'd been no issues since. For Lewis, I went with one of the lesser used (and more...old school) punishments: hard labor. The option was buried in one of the more antiquated but "still-on-the-books" policies, right next to being rationed bread-and-water. But the punishment seemed fitting: single handedly build a defense bunker. The process involved digging a ten foot by ten foot square three feet deep, then creating a defensible position using sandbags and roof slats, complete with turret holes. They were scattered all over base to provide quickly accessible shelter should a flock of terrorists come charging in. So at the crack of dawn a young and very buff Lewis started digging his hole. People took notice of the baby-faced bodybuilder, some even stood to gawk before making their way on. But as the day wore on, Lewis kept going. Instead of growing weary and exhausted, he instead appeared to get stronger and more virile as the process moved on. Once he finished the hole and shifted to the sandbags, his strength seemed impossible. That's when the passersby were suddenly stopped dead in their tracks, helplessly watching this sweat-covered god of a human toil under the desert sun. Standing at 6'2 (or maybe a little more), he was "big" enough to be maybe 230 or 240 pounds. Those weren't inhuman proportions. But just one look and you knew something was different. His muscles looked too dense. It was the small things: his biceps dented the sandbags instead of the other way around, his forearm didn't give against his forehead when he wiped sweat from his brow...all-in-all, the bulges of his body seemed too hard. It was hard to explain but there was something that just looked...fucking amazing. "Sweet Jesus," a familiar voice said admiringly at my shoulder. "He one of yours?" I turned to see Dasa smiling hungrily at Lewis as he toiled. "Yep," I said. "Strange, haven't seen him." Her eyes squinted at him. "I guess he kinda looks familiar." I just nodded; the last time she'd seen him he was half the size he was now. Lewis was now carrying six bags at a time, somehow supporting all that weight in the crook of his forearm. His biceps were screaming, skin stretched and shiny, displaying individual muscles I didn't even know existed on the human anatomy. The crowd around us continued to grow but, by his face, I wasn't sure Lewis even knew there was a soul around him. His eyes were focuses inwards and I could see he was relishing every moment of this "punishment." His face was contorted in a strained grimace as he lugged the bags over to the rapidly developing bunker. The fibers in his arm continued to quiver and shake under the load. I let my hand wrap around my own bicep and gave it a good flex, feeling the muscle jump under my sleeve and swell into my hand. I was quickly on my way to matching Lewis. In the two weeks since Lewis's incident, I'd put on another sixty pounds and my uniform was now snug in all the right places. Any more size could not be hidden. I was pulled away from my self-appreciation when I heard another baritone grunt. I looked up as Lewis now struggled with ten sandbags in an obvious effort to test the limits of his strength. I could see his massive quads ripple violently with each step as they supported the extreme combined weight of his body and bags. Lewis's back muscles bulged and his traps swelled up his neck. His face was red with the strain, veins bulging along his forehead. But his arm. Oh my god his arm. The muscles in it writhed and rolled as if they were fighting each other for space. Then something happened that no one in the crowd would ever forget. A few steps into Lewis's trek to the bunker, that quivering bicep suddenly...popped. That's the only way I could describe it. In the blink of an eye, his shredded nineteen inch arms just doubled in size to the circumference of a person's waist. The rapidly expanding boulder of muscle shoved against the sandbags he carried and they fell to the ground as if thrown. A rip formed at the base of his sleeve and cleanly tore its way all the way up to the top of his shoulder, letting the pumpkin sized deltoids swell out of them. A gasp ran through the crowd. "Holy shit," I heard Dasa say but I couldn't break my eyes away from the inhuman spectacle. Lewis noticed too. He stared down at his insanely proportioned arm and gave it a good flex. The peak of his bicep rose and rose and rose to a granite mountain and the fabric around his lat finally gave up as he raised his arm to admire himself. It was as if every muscle fiber in his arm just decided to double in size. Lewis smiled as he flexed the engorged arm. Blood vessels pulsed around the giant peak, feeding it. The crowd watched, dumbfounded and silent as Lewis finally bent over and picked up the bags he dropped, again resting them in the crook of his now superhuman arm. That over-sized arm flared angrily, sweat dripping down the newly formed ravines that ran from shoulder to elbow. But it now carried the ten bags with less effort than it once took him to carry half that. Lewis had grown stronger in an instant. A lot stronger. I felt my own body without touching it, its hardness, its growing size. I would have that power soon enough. "What on earth..." Dasa was having a hard time processing things but her eyes stared hungrily at Lewis as he continued his labor. "I may have to find an excuse to come by your office more often." She chuckled and gave my arm a playful punch. I thought nothing of it until I felt her hand rest against my arm and give it a squeeze. I smiled without looking at her and gave my arm a flex, letting my iron bicep swell under her grip. I looked down at her after a moment. She was looking up at me, her brows raised and her mouth parted slightly. She took her hand away and smiled. "See you later, sailor." There was heat behind those words. I smiled and looked back at Lewis, who was now lugging a full dozen sandbags on that supersized arm. His shoulder had joined in the grow game and was now the size of a basketball and still growing. The shirt sleeve that once contained it now hung in tatters, and a rip was now growing up the seam of his trap. Before too long it would fall away and his shirt would be more toga than t-shirt. The crowd around us was getting bigger now and I spied a two star general now among them, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed under a furled brow. My breath caught. This was not the attention we wanted. Shit, game's over. I walked up to Lewis just as he finished placing his latest pile of bags. "Consider the punishment complete," I said quietly and put a hand against that monstrous arm. Lewis turned to me, face red and sweating. His chest heaved and I heard popping sound of strained cotton strands accompany each inhale. He smiled through his exhaustion and nodded. Five minutes later he was back in my office, my metal chair grunting and squealing under his mass. He was fixated on his swollen arm, flexing the basketball sized monstrosity and rubbing its veined peak with his hand. He obviously liked what he saw as his dick had recently exploded through the inner lining of his shorts and was forced, fully erect, down the side of his tree trunk thigh. It protruded, thick and pulsing, from the hem of those straining shorts and ran halfway to his knee. It jumped powerfully when he gave his bicep a squeeze. I found myself speechless; so fixated I was on the scene before me. I was experiencing the dual wonder of wanting to join him rubbing that inhuman arm while at the same time knowing I was only a couple weeks away from having that power myself. "So fucking unreal," he said, mostly to himself. "Oh fuck fuck fuck." his dick jumped again and its head swelled. I considered moving in case it fired something at me but stayed put for some reason. "I've felt like a mousetrap this whole time," he said. "Like I was about to erupt. Fucking hell, I finally did." If I wasn't experiencing the same thing, I'd have no idea what he was talking about. But I knew all too well. I believed it had something to do with gaining all that weight but not having the size to match. I was so much denser now and I felt like a giant shoved into a child's body. I felt like I SHOULD be bigger, so much bigger, but I wasn't. I looked like a 220 pound freak of nature but weighed well over 300 pounds. And my body wanted to LOOK well over 300 pounds. It was like being constantly on the verge of an orgasm but just not able to climax. "Fuck," Lewis moaned and grabbed his collar with his free hand. "Too tight." He pulled and ripped his shirt off his body as easily as if it were a blanket lying over him. His concrete body seemed to balloon slightly now the constructing shirt was off. Taking a deep breath, as if his first since putting the accursed thing on, he looked back at his swollen arm then at me. "It's getting smaller," he said. "Pretty soon it'll go back to what it was." He turned his eye to the other bicep and gave it a good flex. The nineteen inch boulder was impressive but nothing compared to the monstrous other one. I was disbelieving at first but a closer look proved him right; the arm was indeed slowly shrinking back; like a pump an hour after working out. He was silent a moment before continuing. "I've stopped growing," he said finally. "I didn't want to believe it but I haven't gotten any stronger in the last week." He looked back at me. "I want more. I'm taking the next step." There was no doubt what he was talking about. He wanted to take the second canister. "What do you think will happen?" I said smoothly. Lewis shrugged, his swollen lats flaring between his engorged delts. "Only one way to find out." He spoke as if he was heading over right then and there. I took a deep breath (and couldn't help but relish how my uniform stretched across my chest). I brushed the euphoria aside, focused instead on the consequences if something...noticeable...happened to Lewis if he took the second canister. What if he took both?! If we got unwanted attention, it could ruin everything. I wasn't ready. I needed more time to max my own body out. I needed to be as big as Lewis...and there it was. You want to be the biggest, don't you? a little voice asked me. I shook my head to clear it. "What if it makes you smaller?" I asked carefully. "Takes away everything you gained." "It won't," Lewis said confidently and actually got up as if to leave. "Two weeks," I said, standing as well. Lewis's eyes crew dark and the muscles in his body all jumped as he grew tense. He seemed to gain twenty pounds in that instance. "I didn't ask," he said. I stepped up to him, hands up in a calming gesture. My mind raced, nearly panicked, searching for anything to give me more time. His body radiated heat and I could smell the musk of the day's work hanging in the air. He was taller than me and far more powerful. We both knew I couldn't force him to do anything. I put a hand against his granite chest, beads of sweat pooling around my fingers. I felt a thump against my leg and looked down to see his dick swelling and lifting itself up against the nylon fabric of his military issue shorts. Without thought, I reached down and wrapped my hand around it, feeling the tha-dump-tha-dump of his heart beat through the shaft. It was as hard as the rest of him. He moaned and I locked his eyes with mine. "Two weeks," I said again and started rubbing him. He gasped. I didn't know what I was doing or why. There was just something about two rock hard bodies leaning against each other like boulders. We touched and I let my eyes wander across the close up view of his inhumanly powerful body. His deeply chiseled abs rose and fell, flexing as his body tensed. I moved my hand faster and he swelled until my fingers no longer made it completely around him. Lewis's muscles flexed and fell, flexed and fell as veins bulged across his traps and upper chest. He leaned his head back, eyes closed and mouth open. I found myself on my knees, eyes locked on a foot long dick bordered by thighs as bulging and hard as any bodybuilder's. Before I could even think about it, he was in my mouth as my hands continuing to work him. He came a moment later and I felt molten hot liquid fill my mouth and force its way down my throat. I took him in, not knowing if the sudden powerful surge rolling through my body was real or psychological. Either way, I felt like I could lift a truck. I felt my own dick raging against my pants, desperate for freedom. Each spurt filled my mouth and I only had time to swallow before he filled it again. Afterwards , I stood and used Lewis's tattered shirt to wipe my mouth. "Two weeks," I said again and threw the shirt at him. Lewis nodded shallowly, eyes distant and blissful. "Two weeks," he agreed breathlessly.

Spanish version in here. My parents always educated me in the culture of effort, so none of my friends were surprised that at twenty-five years old I bought my apartment. I had worked hard to get enough money, doing extra hours, working freelance on weekends and saving everything I could spending as little as possible. I asked for a loan from a bank and that was it. I moved as soon as they gave me the key and for six months I enjoyed the solitude. After that time I decided that the same thing I had done to get half the department I could do to get the other half and for that I was not going to skimp on anything. If I went back to do freelance, some extra hours and rent the room that was empty, then it would not take me long to collect all the money I needed. So I told my friends that I had a room available for rent. Several friends were interested but none had enough money to pay for the place, it was not that I charged too much, what happened was that none had a job that still allowed them to live alone. The days passed and one morning I got a message from Fran: -Hey, I was told you're renting a room! I need to leave my old house! Who was Fran? We had been partners in my previous job where I was a developer and he was a tester. He was a guy with whom we always joked. I could not say he was cute, maybe if you just see his face you would not say that, but he had something in the way of being that was seductive, in addition to having a body ... what could I say? A huge chest. He was not what I would call muscular, he only had the perfect proportions, he did some sport and liked to take care of himself. He practiced wrestling and that should keep him quite trained. He knew that I liked men, but he never cared. He was pretty clear that he liked women so he always pinched someone's ass to annoy him, even me! In him it was as normal as giving you a slap. However, everything that he trusted with men, with women just vanished. If a girl liked him too much he could barely talk to her. I also remember a lot of girls “he did not like" that were as hot for him as me. More than one got to suck his cock in the bathroom of a party. The idea of living with Fran excited me from the first moment. I imagined him naked in my bathroom and the idea alone was enough for me to cum. The next week he dropped his bag in the empty room and settled in. At first things were pretty normal. We both had breakfast together and then both would go to work. I came back in the afternoon and enjoyed a few hours just to work until nightfall just when he arrived. The best moments were when he walked around in his underwears. He had a huge chest, just as I remembered, marked and wide. Fran was a good head taller than me so if we met in the bathroom I had the perfect image of his muscles. —Careful, little man! -he told me when I stomped into him. That was hot! Fran needed to save money but unlike me he did not have the will to work and not spend. He went out with friends and spent too much money outing. I was not surprised that he could not save money. I knew from a friend he used to pay for sex and apparently he needed to have too much sex per week. Another thing he used to do with his beautiful body was wrestling, so he had those ridiculous spandex suits that looked great on him. They highlighted his broad shoulders, his chest and his cock. I imagined him struggling with that clothes with some other man dressed the same and the idea was enough for the whole night. Things started to change one afternoon that he came angry from training. The coach had told him he needed to gain weight to compete in the tournament. —How much do you have to gain? —asked. —I have to be 176.37 pounds —he answered me. It did not seem so much to me and I told him so. -More than 20 pounds of muscle! —He said as if it were something obvious— You say that because you never gained a pound in your life! I bet you cannot lift 10 pounds in the gym! To gain so much muscle, I would have to eat a lot of meat. Do you know how expensive is it?, I would also need to take supplements that are very expensive and also go to a nutritionist. I can not pay for all that! Beyond that the idea of him becoming more muscular excited me and it did not take me even ten seconds to imagine a version of Fran stronger and more muscular ... with a huge chest and bulging arms ... it was also true that I wanted to help him, at least for him to learn to be rigorous to get what he wanted. Then I offered him that if for a month he could focus all his efforts on this challenge and use his money only for his goals then I would help him. How? For a month I would not charge him a rent. —Really? —he asked. —But only if I see that you take it seriously. —Of course!! You'll see! I'm going to become a beast! I do not know if it was my words or the desire I had to enter the tournament but something in his attitude changed overnight. He stopped going out with his friends and he went every day to the gym. Our kitchen got filled with supplements and the refrigerator was full of meat, chicken, vegetables and other things I did not even know the name of. Every day after work he went to train and came to eat. Now he cooked for the both of us and he ate impressive amounts of meat and carbohydrates. He took his supplements rigorously and went to sleep to get enough rest. In a few days I noticed the difference. After every of his showers I could see the changes. Muscles over muscles appearing on his back that had suddenly grown a few inches. His shoulders became rounder and his chest marked as if he suddenly wanted to get out of his body. His arms became bigger and his legs began to turn into hams. What also began to happen is that he took longer showers, after which he always said with a smile and winking at me: —I had to care of this beast —he would say while he scratched his cock under the towel. And just as he masturbated every day, I did the same thing later ... imagining his body, his hard and strong muscles and especially his huge chest as he grew up. The month passed soon and one morning he told me: —I won 10 pounds. 10 pounds? It looked like he had won 20! All his muscles had grown larger. —What happens is that I lost some fat and gained more muscle mass. And to emphasize his point he flexed his arm. It was huge. —Congratulations! I knew you could do it! But instead of smiling he became serious and said: —Double or nothing? —What? —Double or nothing! We make another month like this and if I do not get to gain another 10 pounds I'll give you all the money back ... —… and if you do gain the 10 pounds? He took some time to think about it —I do not pay the rent for two months ... Beyond the fact that the difference between receiving and not receiving that money was important, the idea of seeing him grow even more was making me horny. —Deal! —I said and I shook his hand. Fran squeezed hard. The next month was crazy. For some reason that I do not know Fran stopped wearing t-shirts from one day to the next. Every day I saw his huge muscles walking around my house. His legs all marked, his abs and his huge chest (every day bigger). Every day he cooked larger quantities of food that he ate in front of me. When he finished, he would hit his belly and smile. It was like watching him inflate in front of me. His showers were endless, it was too obvious that he was masturbating like crazy. And me after him, thinking about him and how huge he was now. The night before the end of the month he brought a scale. —Tomorrow is the big day —he said and went to sleep. Next morning when I got up he had already made breakfast. He was getting up even earlier than me.He was wearing only calvin klein drawers that marked his cock… —Do you read? —he said to me standing on the scale. —200 pounds —Ha! —he said and climbed off the scales, flexing both arms. "I'm a beast!" Then he started eating. I still did not understand what had happened, I was too sleepy. It took me a few seconds to do the accounts, I had gained more than 10 pounds, right? The next two months he had won to live for free were more of the same. I got to believe that he had gone crazy, he was a totally different person. He was obsessed with the amount of food, with the hours of sleep, with the amounts of weights for each exercise. But all that seemed to be working as he grew more and more every day and not only his muscles were bigger, Fran was getting taller. One night when he came out of the shower I saw his hair brushing against the door frame. But not only that, his shoulders too. He had to buy new clothes because the previous one did not fit his huge muscled body. His arms were too thick and his chest seemed way bigger. When the two months that he had won for free ended, something suddenly changed. The following week he wore T-shirts every day. I had become used to to seeing his impressive body full of muscles walking around the house ... that huge chest that I imagined all the time growing more and more ... On the fifth day I said: -Hey, Fran, is there something wrong? -Why? —He asked, lifting his face from the plate of food. -Oh! I don’t know ... I mean ... you're acting kind of weird ... -Me? Why? -I don’t know ... I mean ... -I could never say what I was thinking ... I did not even know what I was thinking ... Then Fran smiled. -Are you asking me why I do not walk more without a shirt? -What?! No, of course not! -So? -Nothing ... fuck off ... That night he sat in front of me with his huge plate of food and told me seriously. -Ok, I need money ... I looked at him without understanding. -My salary is to low… and I need money. -And what are you going to do? He looked at me seriously: -I want to make a ... deal ... -A deal? -Yes… - What kind of deal? -Well ... did you see ... you saw how I ...? I looked at him waiting for his answer. -Did you ever pay to see someone? Or something? -What? What are you talking about? -Come one! You know what I'm talking about! A stripclub! -Fran, I don’t follow you ... but no, I never went to one of those places. -Well, it's a place where you pay to see girls ... or guys ... dance naked ... you know, naked ... I looked at him without being able to believe what he was saying. Under the table the cock became hard in a second. —Are you telling me to pay you to see you naked? -Something like that ... -said smiling. -WHAT?! - inside my chest my heart was jumping for joy but at the same time I did not understand what was happening. -Don't get any wrong ideas! Think of it as a ... win win… I need money ... and you ... and you like men ... I mean ... given that I like gitls with big tits I figured that maybe you liked guys ... with big muscles and strong ... like me ... -Are you crazy? -No!! Think it like this ... it's like you would sponsor me ... you would give me a hand ... and in return I let you see my body ... my muscles ... Come one! You're not going to tell me that you want to see the muscles I have! - ... -Imaginate this ... I come back home after training ... and I'm all hard ... I have all my muscles huge ... so hard that I can barely move my arms .... Don’t you want to see how strong I am getting? "You're crazy ..." I said and got up and went to sleep. That night I could barely sleep and I jacked off 5 times before sunrise. I woke up destroyed. Fran was eating breakfast. I sat in front of him trying to wake myself up. -You didn’t sleep anything, right? -No… - How many times did you jacked off? -Five… -Five?! Ha! Does my muscle body turn you on that much? I said yes with my head. -Ha! Crazy! I asked him: -How long? Fran looked at me and smiled. -Whatever you say. -Okey ... let's try for a month and see. He got up and came to me. He lifted me up as if I weighed nothing and hugged me, pressing me agains his huge muscled chest. Then he released me and took off his shirt with the most impressive movement I ever saw in my life. With both arms he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and as he was raising a flag he took off his shirt. His perfect abs appeared one after the other and then his huge chest ... strong and big… -You’ll see! -He said while flexing both arms- You are going to enjoy every day of seeing my muscles! I'm going to be huge! I'm going to become the most muscular man you saw in your fucking life and I'm going to walk in front of you for you to see it. He ruffled me with one hand and went to change to go to work. That month was crazy. Fran grew like a beast. Every day I saw him get bigger and bigger and he no longer just walked around without a shirt, but every so often he flexed both arms and said: -How about my muscles, little man? Do you like what you see? I'm getting huge! I was speechless, seeing the impossible size of his chest. That's how it had to be a man's chest! At the end of the month, he not only weighed almost 220 pounds, but he also was two heads taller than me. When we met in the bathroom he would say things like: - How’s the view from down there, little man? Am I too big? How many times are you going to jack off today after seeing my muscles? -And flexed his huge and strong chest- I bet I have the biggest chest you ever saw in your fucking life. In the gym there is no one who has tits like me —he said and while he massaged his chest with one hand— You don’t know the strength I have in my chest, I bet you I can lift more than ten times your weight. When I finish training, my chest is so hard that I can hardly put on my shirt. Do you remember the fighting suit I had? Can you imagine how would I look like with these muscles now? Would you like me to wear it? Without thinking I said that if ... -Ha! What a fag you are... That night I jacked off without stopping until my cock ached. When the next month arrived I told him: -How do we continue? I just wanted to see him without a shirt ... every day bigger and more muscular ... I imagined him having to duck to go through the door. -Lets do this ... What do you think if we make an arrangement by weight? - By weight? -Yeah! Instead of me not paying you rent ... you pay me for every pound ... -Per pound? -Look at this, I already did the numbers ... you are now "giving me" this money that is equal to the total rent ... right? If we divide this number by my weight ... this is the result ... do you follow me? So I thought maybe we can lower the price a little bit per pound ... that way I would have to gain approximately ... mmm ... 40 pounds more to continue without paying ... do you understand? I grabbed the sheet where he had done all the math and I looked at him while thinking: 40 pounds more of muscles? Fran was already huge… he could appear on the cover of any sports magazine. Could he gain more muscles? -You encourage me to grow and you ... you can see it ... what do you think? -He said and winked at me- Can you imagine how my body will look like with 40 pounds more? What happened that month changed everything. I had imagined that Fran would continue to grow as he had been doing until then ... maybe a little slower, but everything would be more or less the same. I was very wrong. That's when I saw what the anabolics could do. At the end of the first week he suddenly inflated all of his muscles and kept them tense all the time. It was as if his muscles acquired another quality, another strength. At first I did not imagine what was happening, but some things started to get my attention. He was more aggressive ... -Look fag, look at the size of my arm —he said and flexed his arms before looking at me over his chest as if looking at a piece of shit- This is how a man should look like ... not like a little shit like you Sometimes he would got too close and "unintentionally" pushed me: -Uh, sorry little man, I didn’t see you down there. Sometimes I forget how huge I am. Or sometimes he just told me: -Are you enjoing what you see? How’s it feel when you see me without a shirt? Do you get horny by looking at my chest? You don’t have an idea how strong I am. In the gym I'm working like a bull. After each of those phrases I could only lock myself in my room to jack off. On the last day of the month, at breakfast, he said: -Come on, little man. You are going to weigh me. He stood on the scale but did not even look over his chest to look. -What does it say? I crouched to see. -275 pounds ... -Haha ... I told you ... I could not believe it. Fran was huge, a mountain of muscles. —You owe me this —he said, showing me a piece of paper with some numbers. -What?! -It was what we had arranged ... the arrangement was per pound and do you see how it says here that if it weighed 260 you paid me exactly the same as the rent? Well, now I weigh 10 pounds more than that. And you owe me this money. It's not much… I could not believe it and I stared at him with my mouth open. -What happens? you don’t want to pay me? His face changed suddenly. He took a step forward and I stepped back. I was against the wall. - You realize that it is not a very good idea not to pay a 275 pound muscle man, right? Look at the arms I have ... Do you know what I can do with all these muscles? That was enough for me to run out and get my wallet. I brought the money and put it on the table. He looked at it still angry and after a second he changed his expression. With a smile he said: -I was fucking with you, little man. Keep it, these 10 pounds of muscle go on my own. Enjoy them, —he said and made his chest go up and down.— We continue then with the same arrangement ... that do you say? But this time we clarify that no matter how much weight I win, you do not have to give me money. Ok? I was still shaking. I said yes. -But if you want we can add these prices as well… And he gave me a sheet with prices. He looked at me with a smile. I looked at it without understanding anything. -Let me explain ... this number here is the price for touching ... and this is the muscle group. For example, if you want to touch my chest for a minute, it will cost you this much ... do you get it? My head had suddenly stopped. -What happens? Do I have to explain it again? It's easy, little man! The idea is that you pay me to touch me. Or you tell me that you don’t want to touch these muscles? Look at my chest ... well, thats the price. He stood up and went to change to go to work. That day I called the office saying I was sick. I jacked off until I thought I was dying. Then I slept and when it was almost time for Fran to return home I went for a walk. My head did not stop spinning, something like this had never happened to me. I was just lost ... It was crazy ... I mean, it was a lot of money. The truth ... what was I thinking? I was not going to pay to touch him! It was ridiculous! When I came back home he was finishing eating. I put the money on the table and took a deep breath. Fran smiled, wiped his mouth with his hand, moved the chair back, spread his legs and looking at his chest with a wicked smile he said: -Its all yours. Even sitting down he was a good head taller than me. I was a little kid in front of a muscle giant. I approached shaking and rested both hands on his huge chest. It was much harder and softer than I had imagined. It was impressive, almost as big as my two pillows. It was heavy and every time I lifted it it fell again. Suddenly he flexed hard and it was as it became a rock. I started to massage it ... -Do you like it, little fag? Do you like to touch my muscles? This is a man's chest should look like! I ran out and locked myself in the bathroom a second before I came. I had not even touched him for a minute. So you could imagine how everything went. I never thought something like this could happen to me. Every day that I came back home and I told myself that I was not going to pay more ... that I would wait until next week ... well, for three days ... I would hold on until tomorrow ... Every day I paid to touch him. And the same thing happened every day. - Do you like my arms? -He said and flexed them while I touched him- Press hard, come one. Squeeze like a man! Ha, imagine the strength that I have that you can not even squeeze a centimeter ... Squeeze harder, fag! Look at the little hands you have over my big muscles! I touched every part of his huge body and when I touched him several times he brought a new sheet with "promos"."Full body" or "after training" or "in pose". I tried them all ... and at the end of the month I realized that I had spent all my salary. I could not believe it, but at the same time I could not stop ... The next day it was Fran who said: - Now I can’t, lets do it tomorrow. He put a shirt over his huge muscle chest and left. That night I could not sleep and I had to jack off until everything hurt. At dawn I heard him came back, but he was not alone. -Shhhh, keep it quiet… my friend is sleeping ... -he said in a low voice. Five minutes later the girl began to scream while he fucked her in his room. I tried to jack off but I only managed to get tears out of my eyes. Fran started bringing girls almost every night. Some of them I had to meet them because he invited them to dinner and others just heard them scream ... one ... two .... three ... four ... five times ... Fran was fucking like a machine. Surely he was taking advantage of all the money I had given him for touch him to pay for those women ... I was sure that they were whores… One morning after we had breakfast Fran, me and one of those girls. The moment she left I asked: -How much did you pay? Fran looked at me smiling. His body was immense. I had not touched those muscles for several weeks and could only imagine how hard his muscles would be. He stretched his arms letting me see the size of his muscles. He was huge, I had never seen such a big man. He let out a laugh. -I don’t pay ... -I don’t get it -I'm not the one who pays ... I looked at him without understanding. He stood up to go to his room ... his back was a mountain of muscles doing a perfect job. When he came back he brought a box. Inside, it was full of bills. -They are the ones that pay. -What….?! Are you jocking? How much…? -Ha! What? Do you want to know how much it costs to fuck with this mountain of muscles? He said and his chest went up and down and then flexed his arms ... My God, they were huge! I was speechless. -Haha, what a fag you are ... This is the price. It was impossible for someone to pay ... that a girl would pay ... it was a lot ... would he accept credit card?Was it also for guys? —Let me show you — he said and my heart almost stopped. But it was not what I imagined. He sat on the couch and turned on the notebook. I sat next to him. He put the notebook on the table and played the video. He laid back and ran his hand over me, pressed me against his body, my cheek tightened on his chest, and said: -You'll see the show. The girl was on the bed moving back and forth. It was filmed with a cell phone. Fran filmed her body from above and then he filmed himself. All his huge, sweaty muscles glowing in the dim light of the room. It was a compilation in which one girl was fucked after another. Some against the wall, others crushed under his muscles. It was fucking amazing…. but what was amazing was the size of his cock. It was impossibly large… He moved his huge hand over my pants and began to touch me. -Its better without this -he said and took off my pants in a second. My cock was at full mast … well thats a way of saying ... I never had a big cock ... well, okay ... I have a little one ... Fran laugh and began to jack me off with two fingers. Each of his fingers was bigger than my cock. -It's like a little fish -he said in a mocking tone- Does ever get hard? The truth was that I never got too hard ... I was about to say something when I saw what was happening in his pants. It was as if he had put two bananas ... three bananas in his pocket. -Do you want to see a reals man cock? —He said and with his other hand he moved mine to touch his cock. I came up in a second. -Uhhgg! Shit! —He said and wiped the semen on my shirt— Come here ... take care of this ... And he took off his pants. The biggest cock I ever saw in my life appeard in front of my eyes. —Big as the rest of my muscles ... —he joked as he looked at me and looked at his gigantic cock— are you going to stay there? With shaking hand I grabbed his cock. It was so big and so hard that I could not close my hand. —Use both —he said. And I grabbed it with the other one. He leaned back. —Stronger. His cock was bigger than my arm, it was just huge and I could not imagine who could stand ... which girl could resist to be fucked with such a big cock. -Stronger, little man. His entire body was covered which huge, hard and shiny muscles. Even naked it was as if he had an armor on and his cock was a sword ... a cannon. -Stronger ... come on! I was squeezing with all my strenth, but he hardly felt it. He stood up and lifted me with one hand. He carried me to the bathroom, turned on the light and stood in front of the mirror. All his musle body was shining in the light of the bathroom. He sat me in his cock and said: - It's as if it were your cock ... Jack off! I grabbed myself to his cock to keep me from falling. -Imagine that you grew a huge cock like this ... Come on ! Imagine that you can fuck one girl after the other ... they all want to to suck your cock ... they want to touch your muscles -while saying that he flexed both arms- Imagine that you are the most muscular stud in the world, stronger than a bull and harder than a tank. Imagine that you start to earn money out of just because everyone wants to touch your muscles and you just grow and grow and you get stronger every day and you're hard all over and you can fuck for hours and hours and come and come and come. Ahhh ... I'm huge. Look at the muscles I have, little fag. Look at the size of my muscles.I'm a beast ... do you know what beasts do? They fuck ... He lowered me from his cock and left me on the floor in front of him with his cock pointed at my face. He was the biggest muscle giant I had ever seen in my fucking life. -Look at me, little fag ... look at the size of my muscles ... imagine what I would do I would fuck you with this cock ... I would break your ass ... you could not sit in your fucking life again ... do you want to try it? I bet you want to suck my whole cock ... -Yes… -Haha, what a fag you are ... okay then, this is on my own. He held my head with one hand while he approached his cock to my mouth. It was huge, it was too big, it was impossible that I would be able to open that big. -So, little man ... haha, I'm going to break your jaw ... I'm huge ... I breathed through my nose trying not to drown ... - What's up, little fag? Am I too big? This is what happens when you try to suck the cock of a giant like me. ahhhh ... I would break your mouth just because you are a fucking piece of shit ... Look at the size of my muscles ... This is how a man should look like ... Not that little shit you are ... Look at my arms ... Look how strong I am ... Open that mouth or I’ll broke it with my huge cock! I bet you're dying to touch my muscles ... Sorry, little fag… you can’t afford it. I'm too big, too hard, I'm too strong. And then he came and I got choked and everything turned white and then black ... The week after that Fran quit his job. When I came back from the office (as fast as I could) I found the garbage can full of giant condoms and women's clothes. Fran had become a prostitute ... With the money he earned, he began to buy designer clothes, perfumes, computers, cell phones, all expensive things and to top it off he bought a truck as big as himself. He was earning so much money that he gave me some: -Buy yourself something, little fag. But I just wanted to pay him ... I wanted to touch his huge back ... Now that I barely reached his waist, Fran had become a huge, strong and muscular god ... and in my pocket I was pressing the money I had taken from the bank. One day I found a sheet of paper with the new prices on the floor ... Not even a month's salary would be enough to touch him for a minute ... Fran had become a VIP prostitute ... The women who slept with him were millionaires. Women who only existed in magazines and on television. And Fran fucker them all. He had his regular clients who loved him, who touched his chest and went mad with his strength, with the huge cock he had. When we had breakfast together, many times one of them would drop a bunch of money on the table just to touch his muscles while he was having breakfast. -Do you like my body, bitch? —he would say while flexing. One night he arrived with three women. Just by seeing them you could tell they were older, maybe forty years old. With huge tits and full of money, gold everywhere. He took them to his room and started to fuck them ... I realized that because they started screaming like crazy. But after a few minutes they stood silent and then Fran came into my room ... naked. It was as if a mountain of muscles suddenly passed through the door. His entire body was shining, covered with an oil that made him look even bigger .... and his cock ... gigantic ... hard as a club ... a huge anaconda in front of me… And I was lying in my bed ... -I need you to do me a favor ... -he told me from above his incredible muscles ... he was a beast- I need you to film me fucking ... —What? —They are clients of mine and they want to have a video of me fucking them… He said that and left (bending down trying not to tear the wall apart). I followed him. In her room the clothes were lying all over the floor and in his bed were the three women, naked, with their huge tits and asses and faces and bodies all covered in semen. -Awww look how cute your little friend is ... - said one. -How beautiful! Are you going to do us a favor? How cute! -We want you to film him ... and his muscular body while he fucks us ... You're beautiful, Fran ... A stud ... -Film his chest, look at the huge chest he has ... what a macho! -Film his cock, look at that cock. - Me first! —Cried one and Fran grabbed her against the wall, squeezing her with his muscles as she sucked his chest that was crushing her. -Film his back, look at that back full of muscles ... look how strong he is ... -Look at those legs ... My God ... he is a beast ... And Fran fucked them all two times and I filmed everything. When he finished he approached to me and I backed up until I was against the wall. He took my cell phone out and started watching the video. His cock full erect still dripped on my head, his muscular and huge legs prevented me from any movement. His body smelled to sex. And his whole body was shining. —Well done, bitch ... I'm huge, -he said and with one hand he ruffled me pressing me agains his legs and then he layed down on the bed with the three women. The four of them watched the video while they touched him and kissed him and bit him. -Thank you, beautiful! —said one and threw me a kiss. -What a good eye! Look how your body looks, Fran! You are huge! Look at these arms! But one of them said nothing and looked at me. She had big eyes and a look that understood things. She licked her lips and said: -How can we thank you? -while he touched Fran's chest. She ran her hand over those huge pecs and then grabbed Fran’s still hard cock. -Fran, how can we pay your friend? -Pay him? -He looked at me and winked at me- I think he's already happy to see me fuck ... -Aw, really? Is him one of those? - Pretty, do you like the muscles of your friend Fran? Did you see how huge he is? Look at this chest! There is no man with such a big chest! How hard! Aw, Fran, you're huge! -Fran, how much do we owe you? -There's the price list, -he said, pointing to the wall while still watching the video. The woman with the big eyes stood up and went to the wall. she read the price list and then looked at me. -Girls ... -she said and returned to the bed- How about we give our little friend a gift? -A gift? -Asked another and when the first one whispered in her ear, she smiled. -A huge and muscular gift! -Aw, yes, would you like that little man? Do you want to know what it feels like to be fucked by the most muscular man in the world? Look at the size of this cock, look at the shoulders he has. Look at his chest and these arms. He is a huge stud and fucks like a god. -Here, Fran. This is for ours and this is for your friend ... we want a complete service ... so he can enjoy all your huge muscles ... Fran stood up and came up to me crushing me with his legs. -It seems it's your lucky day, little bitch -he said while masturbating the cock full of semen- You'll be able to enjoy my muscle body ... -he said and he lifted me up and sat me on top of his cock, but before he tore off my clothes. I felt his gigantic cock against my ass and everything in me got wet. His chest pressed me against the wall, I tried to push him with my hands but it was like pushing a wall, a mountain full of muscles. Fran was all hard and hot. - What's up, little one? —said one of the girls. Both approached Fran and began to touch his huge legs. - Don’t you want this? Don’t you want to touch your friend's huge muscles? Look how big he is. Look at the chest he has. Look at these huge arms, look at how big his muscles are. Uh, you're so huge, Fran. Touch his chest, give it a try. - What a weakling you are! —said Fran. - How does it feel to be sitting in the biggest cock that you’ll ever see in your life? -one of them asked. - Do you realize that his is going to break your ass? -asked another. -Try to defend yourself from me, -Fran said, pressing me against the wall. -Come on!, push, push harder, hit me!. What happens? Am I too big? Am I too strong? -Break his ass, Fran. -I'll show you, little shit, how a real man fucks. Uh you are so going to like this -Fran said, flexing both arms. -Fran, we want you to put all your strength in breaking that little ass he has. -Ha! —Frank laughed- I'm going to kill him just by opening his ass with my cock. I have it too big for such a small ass -and then looking at me with a grimace said- Come on, little man, touch me, touch all my huge muscles. Ugh, I'm huge. -I hope you're prepared, kid, -one of them said- You're going to be raped by a 400 pound stallion. And that was the last thing I heard, before Fran broke my ass with his huge cock.