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Danny continued to grow. His trainer Ivan had been right. Despite the fact that he hadn't lifted any weights in the two weeks that Ivan had been in Europe, Danny had beefed up to 325lbs of solid muscle. When Ivan got back from his trip to Poland and Russia, he was duly impressed by his young client's gains. "You sure you weren't working out with another trainer while I was gone," Ivan teased Danny. "Nope. Just ripped up a couple trees here and there," answered Danny. "Ha. You are funny, kid. But just wait, you are only going to get better. I brought back that new 'supplement' I told you about." Ivan held out his hand, which was holding a bunch of small black pills. "These are called Black Russians, and are the newest supp to come out of eastern Europe. The Russians are using them to develop a whole new generation of superathletes." Danny looked at the pinhead-sized pills. "They're so small," he said, picking up one pill with two of his thick fingers and examining it. "Small, yes, but powerful. And easy to get into country, attached to my jacket like beading." "I'm joining the wrestling squad when I go to college next week. What if I get tested?" "Nothing will show. These special vitamins work directly on your DNA strands, lengthening and improving your teleomeres." "So we're like a genetic experiment?" asked Danny. "Yes," said Ivan. "One that is working." "You have enough of those to share with a friend of mine?" Danny asked. Then he told Ivan about Dwayne. At first, Ivan freaked out a little, but when Danny told him about Dwayne having been an even bigger dweeb than Danny had been, and where he was now, Ivan got a kick out of it. "So now your little buddy is doing mixed martial arts?" "Yep. He says it's like his brain memorized all the moves he watched on youtube vids. He's beating all the other guys at his gym, no matter what weight class. He outmaneuvers them, outpowers them, pins them." "How much he weigh?" "He went from a dweeby 120 to a granite hard 159." "He's beating guys bigger than him then?" "He told me he pinned a 250lb guy the other night. Took him less than 15 seconds." Ivan laughed. "Just wait till your bud tries some of these." "So it's cool?" "Sure is, kid. I'm kinda liking getting you former dorks all swole and cocky. And just wait till your little bud tries this stuff out. Chances are he'll never get huge, but it will maximize other skills laying latent inside him." "What about me?" "You got such a big-boned frame, you'll be holding a solid 400 plus in no time. With strength beyond reason." "Let's get started then," said Danny, hungrily. After two weeks of three hour a day workouts, Danny met Ivan's prediction, weighing in at a solid 410. Ivan didn't train with him anymore, but simply helped add plates to Danny's stacks of weights. Danny was benching 800lbs for his warmup. And squatting 1000lbs for reps, till his quads ballooned to 40+ inches of brute muscle thickness. He had gotten hairier all over, even his back, and he liked it cause it made him feel like a massive blond gorilla. Dwayne, on the other hand, had gotten better and better at his MMA fights, so much so that the gym owner had him taking on two guys at once. Dwayne had yet to lose. He and Danny waited two weeks before seeing each other. They'd both be leaving for college in a week after that, so they wanted to check each other's progress. They met up at the city's athletic fields, where there were tennis courts, basketball courts, three softball fields and a small football stadium. When they pulled up next to each other in the parking lot, got out and looked each other over, they simultaneously said, "Fuck, dude!" "Man, you're ginormous!" said Dwayne. "What are you, 380?" "414 this morning," said Danny, puffing out his ape chest. "And look at you, man. What are you wearing?" "It's a 100lb weighted vest. I wear it for wind sprints. I'm up to a mere 180lbs, a punk next to you, but my body fat's at 1.5%. And I've been running 100-yard dashes in under 10." "Dude, that's like world class." "I know. And that's with the vest on." "How fast without??" "I don't know. Wanna race?" "Fuck yeh, ya little squirt." They went over to the football field and got on the goal line. "One, two, three go," blurted Dwayne, and he took off. Danny started after his friend. Sod flew behind their feet as Dwayne shot ahead like a bullet. But Danny, despite his size, was extraordinarily fast, and almost caught up with him, finishing a fraction of a second behind his smaller buddy. "Dude, you little cheat," said Danny. "Here's what I outta do to you..." He waddled over to the goalpost, wrapped his hands around it, and bent it until the two posts arms hit the field. Dwayne had to dodge out of the way of one of them as it came down. "Hey, I told you I learned to run fast getting away from those bullies in high school," laughed Dwayne. "I don't think you'd have any trouble doing that now. But I doubt that you'd need to run anymore." "I think you're right. I have my first sanctioned fight coming up this weekend. And if I win, I'm thinking of deferring college for a year." "No shit?" "Yeh, man, I'm loving this fighting. And my gym owner gets hard thinking of the matches I could win with him training me. Thing is, I'm already holding back so I don't hurt someone too bad. I sense it when I'm fighting someone, how much stronger I am. It's a rush." They started walking back to the parking area, crossing one of the softball fields. Dwayne found a baseball bat that someone had left by the dugout. "Think I could snap it across my knee?" he asked Danny. "Try holding it straight out, one hand on each end. Snap it that way." "OK," said Dwayne, grinning. He held the bat at arm's length and tightened his grip. His forearm muscles flexed up like ropey, sinewy iron. The velcro straps of his weighted vest tore apart at the seams as his shoulders, chest and lats spread out with effort. Then the bat snapped. Like a toothpick. Even Dwayne was surprised by how fast and easy it broke. "Fuck," he said, as he looked down at the two bat pieces, one in each hand. "Fuck is right, man. That is some sick arm strength," said Danny. "God, that felt good," said Dwayne. "Hey, isn't that Tip's car in the parking lot?" asked Danny. Dwayne looked over at the nearby lot, and saw the red Dodge Charger with the vanity license plate that said "Tipster". "It sure as hell is," he said, his face reddening. He remembered how just seeing that car used to fill him with dread. His grip on the bat pieces increased unconsciously, until the wood cracked under his fingers, splintering apart. He dropped the bat pieces to the ground, then pulled off his weighted vest. "Hold this for me," he said, handing his 100lb vest to Danny, who took it with his pinkie finger. Dwayne made his way over to the Charger. He walked around the car, looking it over, when he heard a voice from behind him say, "Don't touch the car, man." It was Tip, coming back from a jog, all blond and oozing with arrogance. Every memory of being bullied by Tip came flooding back to Dwayne's mind as he saw the cocky jock walking up to his pride and joy. "You mean like this?" said Dwayne, as he took a swipe at the car's side mirror, knocking it off so that it swung by wires against the car's door. "What the fuck????" said Tip. "You don't remember me, do you?" said Dwayne. Tip stared at him hard, but Dwayne could tell he had no idea who he was. He could hardly blame him. The last time Tip saw him, he'd weighed 120lbs of soft nerd, and he was face down in the dirt. Since then, he'd gained 70lbs of steely muscle, his jaw line had squared off, he had a jutting Adam's apple on a neck that was corded with muscle, and he had rivers of veins running up and down his arms. His eyes had improved to 20/20 vision, so he was no longer wearing his thick glasses either. "You remember a kid you used to call the Dweeb? The one you used to chase down and make him eat dirt? The one you used to slam into the lockers in front of everyone." "What the fuck...." stammered Tip, a hint of recognition hitting him. "That kid doesn't exist anymore," said Dwayne. "Now it's just this one." He grabbed the dangling mirror and ripped it free of its wires. Then he crushed the mirror in his hands, letting bits of metal, plastic, and glass fall to the ground. "What the fuck..." said Tip, slack jawed. "I always knew you had a limited vocabulary, and it seems to be getting worse. You ought to work on that," said Dwayne. "But right now, it's your turn to run." Dwayne pulled of his tee shirt, so Tip could get a good look at the insanely jacked up muscle machine he had turned into. He clenched his stomach muscles so that Tip could see the striations stand out on each of the eight blocks of ab muscles on his tight, shredded torso. He flexed his right arm, and his biceps balled up into a perfect peak. Tip had seen a lot of shirtless jocks in his time, but never anyone with Dwayne's highly developed muscularity. Dwayne smirked as he saw Tip gulp. Then he smashed his left fist into the car door, denting the metal in about 5 inches. "That's what I call a love tap," said Dwayne. Then he hit the door again, his knuckles going in 6 inches. "...the fuck..." said Tip, backing away. Then he took off running. Tip had been the fastest guy in their school. In fact, he had broken the 100-yard dash record that had been in place since the 1990's. Dwayne gave him a 5 second head start, then went after him. All Tip heard was the rush of wind from Dwayne coming up behind him so fast, tackling him on the softball field, between 1st and 2nd base. Tip's face and torso hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. Dwayne straddled him and held him down. Tip struggled hard, but to no effect. "God damn, you are weak," said Dwayne after they both quickly realized how easily the former dweeb was able to control his former bully. Dwayne flexed his arms while holding Tip down with his powerful quads, squeezing them together just a little harder than he needed to. The muscles on his back popped out like thick leather straps, overlapping each other in perfect symmetry. "You want to see what it's like to eat dirt?" asked Dwayne. "No, man, no," said Tip. But it was too late. Dwayne scooped some dirt off the baseline and stuffed into Tip's mouth. Tip gagged and sputtered out wet muddy spittle, as Dwayne held his face to the ground. "Jesus, dude, what fucking pleasure did you ever get out of this?" said Dwayne, stopping his force feeding, but still pinning the jock down hard. Then he started sliding Tip face first along the baseline, until Tip's nose tapped into second base. "There, you're safe, asshole." Dwayne stood up over him. "I thought I would want to beat you to a pulp," he said to the cowering jock. "I still might. Here, let me help you up." Dwayne reached out his hand. Tip reluctantly took it. Dwayne yanked him to his feet like he was made of straw. As Tip started to brush himself off, Dwayne swung his foot at the jock's ankles and knocked him off his feet, onto his ass. "Ok," said Dwayne, "now that time it felt good. Here, I'll help you up. I won't do that again." He helped Tip up again, and didn't kick his feet out from under him. Instead, he punched him in his solar plexus, a quick jab, not enough to shatter his sternum, but enough to make him double over. Dwayne grabbed Tip's arms from behind and put him into a double-armed chickenwing. Then he lifted him off the ground and held him there. "I've got ten times your strength now. Maybe twenty." Dwayne tightened his hold and lifted Tip higher, just enough to prove it. Tip was just about to lose consciousness when Dwayne tossed him down. "If I ever hear about you bullying someone again, I'll come after you. And next time I won't be so friendly." Dwayne looked up and saw Danny over by Tip's car. Danny went over to the rear end of the Charger and started pushing on it until it skidded up over the curb. He pushed it harder and harder, smashing the front end into a big oak tree with such force that the car windows shattered. As Dwayne walked over to him, Danny pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "Hi," Danny said into the phone. "My friend and I just saw a blond guy in a red car crash into a tree here at the park.....By the softball field parking lot....Yeah, he got out and tried to run away, but we stopped him." Danny hung up. As Tip crawled his way back towards his demolished car, Dwayne said, "That got me so riled up." He flexed his rock muscle chest. "Yeah, got me all jacked up just watching you," said Danny, jutting out his 70+ inch chest. "Let's go back to my place and fuck each others' brains out." "Yeah? You think you can handle all this?" said Dwayne, already getting hard as he rippled every striated muscle fiber on his new body. "Let's find out."

Hey guys! I know it has been a while since I last wrote. The story is pretty much still unfinished but I realized that having all the chapters spread out wasn't helping either. My plan now is to post all the chapters here, edited of course, this being so if you reread you will get a little extra fun from it. I'll also be posting progress pics within the story of the character,Vonny, who is based off of me and has very similar muscle progress. This way you can imagine how the character is growing a little better along with reading. I will also be posting pics from the web of what other characters look like and some scenery in order for you all to fully experience everything. Thanks for being patient and I hope you all will enjoy. Leave a comment if you have and questions or ideas!

First Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/ Previous Chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6388-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-thirteen/ CHAPTER FOURTEEN The first rays of sun cut across the pale blue newborn sky as I strode, or rather waddled, purposefully toward Hudson Street. After my fall back into the basement, Hank and Matt ran down the stairs and peered into the gaping hole in the ground floor to find me motionless in the remains of the debris-filled gym. “You are okay, right?” Matt asked before his expression changed as he realized that it was a dumb, if perfectly natural question. “Yeah,” I said. “Frustrated as hell but okay.” “What happened?” Hank asked. “I slipped and fell through the floor.” “You slipped?” Matt asked, incredulous. “Let me guess - in your own cum?” “You weren’t this clumsy when you were human,” Hank deadpanned. This made Matt chuckle and I rolled my eyes. “What does a god have to do to get some respect around here?” In the end, it proved to be just the comic relief they had needed. My friends agreed to accompany me and quickly showered and grabbed a bite to eat. They were now locking the place up. Meanwhile, I stopped at the corner of Franklin and Hudson to gauge the public’s reaction to my presence. It was early on a Saturday morning, but in the twenty seconds it took Hank and Matt to catch up, I had already caused two accidents. Of the four pedestrians who had seen me, one passed out, two others who were in front of Sovereign Bank, catty corner to where I stood, dropped to their hands and knees and gawked, and the fourth, a young gay man, had curled into a ball on the sidewalk not ten feet away and was staring at me, eyes glazed over. He was mumbling to himself. “You’re gonna have to get used to this,” Hank said. My great cock grew harder as I saw more people happen by, see me and instinctively submit. I really am a god, I thought to myself. All of this in one week. The extent of my strength and dominance – my absolute dominance – made me drunk with power and my cum cannon fired several massive volleys into the intersection before I forced it to stop. How unthinkably powerful will I be next weekend? Next month? Next year? I looked down at Hank, who suddenly appeared insignificant and ephemeral. “I’m already used to it,” I said as my perfect masculinity and impossible strength again filled me with a rush of intense euphoria. My massive cock expanded still more and began to throb visibly, bouncing up and down, as if to demand that I acknowledge its magnificence. “It’s been happening for the past several days. I expect it now.” He looked up at me and gasped. “You’re doin’ it again, man. It ain’t easy to resist fallin’ to the ground.” I turned and saw that Matt was nodding with a pained expression. He grimaced and stood slightly hunched as if carrying an unbearable load. “What is it?” I asked. Part of me felt I should be concerned at their suffering, but another part knew that they simply needed to assume mankind’s natural position before me, kneeling and bowing in complete submission, and the discomfort would go away. “You’re too beautiful,” Matt said, almost gasping. “It’s painful, but I can’t turn away. Every time I adapt to how you look, you become still more beautiful. Awesome. Glorious. Godly.” Tears began streaming down his face and his gaze fell to my chest, his eyes wide in disbelief, then down to my cock and impossibly huge legs. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he said as he collapsed to the sidewalk and began kissing my feet. “Yes,” I said as my great cock doubled its powerful throbbing and rewarded the slave by drenching it with pre-cum. “I am your god. The need to worship me is natural.” At that instant, I felt a flash of terror. Something in my consciousness had shifted, but as quickly as it started, it was over. I gazed dispassionately at the young blond slave at my feet. The time to wield my power over these creatures had arrived. “Jamal,” a male voice said. “You can turn this down.” Jamal? I regarded it as if seeing it for the first time, this red-headed slave that was talking to me instead of worshipping along with the others. I found its behavior curious but irrelevant and turned to survey the intersection, which was now clogged with abandoned vehicles as drivers and passengers alike knelt before me, many of whom were so overwhelmed with my extreme hyper-masculinity and beauty that they were weeping as well. Seven billion willing slaves. “Jamal!” the red-headed slave yelled. I turned back to look at it, again wondering why it remained standing before me, and felt its fear spike. It emptied its bladder and shrank to the sidewalk, its body quaking in terror. I was considering ordering it and its little blond companion to service my grapefruit-sized balls when the abrupt shift of consciousness repeated and I was seeing with two sets of eyes, one the absolute Master of everything, the other... My name is Jamal. Confused, I blinked. “Hank?” I asked. I felt disoriented, as if I had wakened in an unfamiliar room, and shook my head. I looked down to see him staring up at me with a face twisted with worry and wet with tears. Meanwhile, Matt was flat on his back a few feet away and gasping for breath. “You can turn it down, man,” Hank said quickly, as if I were about to swat him out of existence like a gnat. He wiped the tears from his face with the thick hair of his forearm. I furrowed my brow. “Turn what down?” “Feelin’ your oats,” he said. “Every time you start thinkin’ about how mighty you are, we end up flat on the ground.” I pulled him up and lifted him so that his neck was against my nose. Then wrapping my great arms around him, I closed my eyes and inhaled, taking in his familiar scent. My Big Red. I smiled to myself. “What you doin’?” he asked, still terrified. “Promise you’ll never leave me,” I whispered in his ear. “If anyone can remind me of who I am, it’s you.” He continued to tremble uncontrollably. A year had passed since the Twin Towers had fallen. America was fighting a complicated war against an enemy that was so difficult to pin down, it sometimes seemed as if we were going in circles. Three months had passed since I had stormed out of Hank’s life, yet here we were walking down West Broadway toward the gaping hole in lower Manhattan – where we had met, where his cousin Karen had died, and where America had changed – for better or for worse. I hadn’t seen him all summer and he looked as handsome as ever. Same Brooklyn accent. Same waddle. Same emerald eyes and copper hair. It still hurt. Badly. “I can’t believe you called me,” I said. “I can’t believe you called me back.” I stopped. “I can’t either,” I said, suddenly feeling cross. “I miss you, dammit.” “I miss you too, man.” “No. I don’t think you do,” I said. My eyes narrowed. “You just miss the sex.” “Well, that torpedo of yours is really somethin’ and you sure as hell know how to use it.” “Fuck you. I’m a man, not a fuck machine!” I stared at him, amazed that he still thought of me that way. It really was all I was to him; a good lay. “That’s exactly what Michael called you,” he said. “An amazin’ fuck machine.” I could feel my face flush with shame and anger. I had fucked Hank’s ex. I was desperate, I fucked him, and he convinced the judge to throw out the lawsuit against me. That he took advantage of me was humiliating enough without him telling Hank. “That was a mistake and so is this,” I said as I turned and strode back the way we had come. “Jamal,” he called after me. I ignored him. It had happened over and over and over. In the end, everyone just wanted me to fuck them and leave as if I were some kind of mechanical stud that could be kept in storage until needed again. I walked briskly northward, forcing him to run to catch up. I felt him grab my wrist. He managed to pull me to a stop before I yanked my arm free. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I said even as I realized that I still liked it. “You gonna stop me?” He pulled himself up straight and pushed his great chest forward as if in challenge. “YOU DON’T THINK I CAN TAKE YOUR RED ASS DOWN?” I yelled before remembering that we were standing on a busy West Broadway sidewalk in full daylight. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed. I was completely on edge. Even as I fought with Hank and part of me hated him, at a deeper level I remained in love and that made me all the more angry. I could feel myself shaking and I rocked side to side, transferring my weight from one foot to the other in an effort to relax and hide my fury. I heard him sigh and opened my eyes to see him staring at me. “Could you dial back those emotions for just a minute?” He asked. “Could you show some emotion for just a minute?” “What do you want from me?” “I want you to love me for who I am!” I blurted out before immediately regretting it. Hank didn’t respond except to frown and look down at the sidewalk at his feet. I could tell that he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. “What are we doing here, Hank?” I demanded. “I can’t tell you,” he said softly as he took my hand in his and gently nudged me back toward Ground Zero. His entire demeanor had changed. Suddenly, he was very serious. “Really. I have to show you.” This time, I didn’t resist. Matt and Hank followed me up the sidewalk along the west side of Seventh Avenue toward Central Park. We had briefly considered taking the subway, but the idea of squeezing into such a tight, enclosed space made me think twice. What would I accidentally destroy next? Once again, both had expressed strong reservations about accompanying me to the park. It was only after much discussion that they agreed to follow me – at a distance – and once they cleaned up again. They remained afraid of me. I really couldn't blame them. I had “turned it down” as Hank suggested, and though he and Matt were able to function more or less normally around me, everyone else continued to kneel and bow to me on sight. I didn’t know if my friends had built up some kind of resistance or if it was simple familiarity, but I was grateful. Several more accidents had occurred as I began my march toward the park, but the resulting gridlock prevented any further incidents. Like the pedestrians, the occupants of the cars, buses and trucks all climbed out to get a closer look at me ... and submit. I carefully observed people – my slaves – as I passed them, and though no one was weeping or suffering, as they had been earlier, every last man, woman and child assumed a submissive pose. Even dogs, pet or stray, took a submissive posture. This I hadn’t expected and I found it unsettling. Hank is right. I am more than the ruler of humanity. I am the ruler of everything. I stopped and looked back. My friends were about half a block behind and approached slowly through the kneeling crowd. Further behind them, most people were back on their feet and following at a distance. Matt and Hank stopped about 20 feet back. “Jamal?” Hank asked. “Yeah.” I could still feel their fear. “Just checking,” he said. They slowly moved forward. Matt’s beautiful face glistened with moisture. He had been crying. “Why is my sexy boy crying?” I asked. He looked at the ground. “We love you, man, but you can’t do that again.” Hank said. “I'm sorry, guys,” I said. “I won’t.” Though it had felt perfectly natural at the time, right even, it had frightened me as well and certainly wasn’t what I wanted. Do I have so little control over my own destiny? What good is being a god if I can’t be the god I want to be? If I can’t still be myself? They looked at me doubtfully. “Please, guys,” I said. “It’s still me.” Matt reached over and took Hank’s hand. “But for how long?” he asked. They remained about ten feet away. Hank said nothing. It was a good question. Something had come over me barely two hours before, something that seemed natural and inevitable yet horrifying at the same time – something that pointed to my ascendancy as a god and the elimination of all relationships, even with those closest to me. I clearly remembered looking at both Hank and Matt without any familiarity. They were nothing more than two of billions of slaves that existed only to serve and obey me. If I had any say in the future dynamic between mankind and myself I would not allow such a bleak reality to occur. The mere possibility made me treasure the relationships I already possessed all the more. I would not let my friends go so easily. “Please,” I repeated and fell to my own knees, which shattered the sidewalk, which was pulverized further as the head of my semi-erect cock slammed into it. Shards of cement scattered in all directions and my companions jumped back. “I would give all of this up for you guys,” I said, unwilling to imagine spending eternity alone. “I can’t do this without you,” I said. Several minutes passed during which Matt and Hank continued to stand some distance away. I sat on my haunches on the shattered sidewalk while thousands of people filled the avenue and sidewalks, creating concentric circles around me, beginning just behind where my friends stood. I had resigned myself to the reality that I would have to meet my destiny without them, but just as I was about to stand and continue my journey alone, Matt sprinted forward and kissed me full on the lips. “I love you too much to abandon you,” he said. “You are still my favorite god no matter what.” I stood and smiled. “I’m the only god.” “Then it’s a good thing you’re my favorite.” His statement was nonsensical, but still made me laugh. The next thing I knew he was climbing me like a jungle gym until he settled on my mountainous traps, sitting with his legs around my non-existent neck. I was greatly relieved that he had changed his mind. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable,” I said, pleased that he did feel comfortable enough with me to ride piggyback. I heard him grunt. “Don’t make a mess in your pants,” I said. “Too late,” he said through clenched teeth. Still smiling broadly, I looked at Hank, who approached more cautiously. He stopped about a yard away, just short of the head of my immense tool, and looked up at me. His face was a mask. “Well?” I asked. “I can’t read your mind.” “Can I ride next?” * * * Traffic in Midtown was completely gridlocked as I led my followers through the tourist-filled, mega-sign-walled canyon of Times Square. Many of the huge displays that covered entire sides of buildings played live images of me as I walked through the parting sea of humanity. The images drove home how massive and hyper-masculine I was even compared to Hank, who walked to my right. Despite being only a foot and a half shorter, he seemed pre-pubescent in comparison. We continued north on Seventh and into the southern end of the park. I was tailed by thousands, if not tens of thousands, many of whom had abandoned their vehicles and buses along the avenue and adjoining streets. If I had learned anything, it was that my presence in public was, as expected, completely disruptive. Without exception, everyone submitted to and/or worshipped me on sight before trailing me as I continued north. Cops sent to investigate and disperse the growing crowd? Media sent to cover it? I owned them all at first glance. Matt remained on my shoulders and Hank at my side as I made my way along Central Drive toward the large clearing of Sheep Meadow. The few dozen people there dropped what they were doing – playing Frisbee, ball, or simply relaxing on the lawn – and knelt or bowed as I approached. Animals stopped and knelt as well. Horses, pets, squirrels – every creature, large and small, submitted to me on sight. The euphoric rush returned as I was reminded of the incredible power at my command. My dominance was absolute. My strength was beyond reason. My physical magnificence was beyond anything I had dreamed possible. Upon reaching the center of the clearing, I stopped and surveyed the meadow. The grass remained mostly green thanks to the long summer, but the trees that surrounded Sheep Meadow had finally begun to turn color. Beyond the trees, the buildings of Manhattan rose into a clear morning sky. Buildings that were now mine for the taking. In a city that was now mine for the taking. On a planet that was now mine for the taking. Seven billion willing slaves. I watched the sea of humanity as it poured onto the vast grassy clearing. Everyone crouched, surrounding and facing me, on hands and knees. Their movements seemed almost instinctive, natural, even rehearsed. Similarly, my own march to this very spot was instinctive. I didn’t know why this was my destination, I had just walked here. “They’re doing it again,” Matt said. “Organizing into concentric circles. It reminds me of photographs I’ve seen of hundreds of thousands of Muslims praying around the Ka’ba in Mecca.” I felt him shiver briefly. “Wow, I totally have goose bumps.” We watched as people continued to stream quietly, almost silently, into the meadow from all directions and kneel before me. I looked at Hank. “Why aren’t you joining them?” He looked hurt. “Do you want me to?” “No no no. Of course not. I’m just curious.” I turned my head upward a bit toward Matt. “How about you?” “I don’t feel compelled as they must,” Matt said. “I can’t say why.” “What do they want?” I asked as I lifted Matt from my traps and returned him to the ground. I already knew the answer, of course. “To demonstrate their submission just like everyone’s been doing for the past week,” he said with an isn’t-that-obvious tone. “To worship you, man,” Hank said. “Like we all do.” They want to worship me. At that instant, what felt like a wall of energy slammed into me from all directions. I was astonished by its power – a fraction of that at Indian Point, but intense nonetheless. It had a different flavor to it, however. Distinctly different. This energy was … alive. As I realized – it’s from my worshippers – my cock, which like my body was already by far the strongest, most dense material on the planet, thickened and hardened even further. Even being worshipped increased my strength and power. They want to be dominated by me. Again the euphoria of my godhood exploded through me and I closed my eyes to savor the feeling. Smiling, reveling in limitless pleasure, I tilted my head back slightly and raised my mammoth arms over my head, my fists thrusting into the sky. Even in my intense ecstasy, I felt my cock lengthen ever so slightly. My immense muscles expanded yet more. I came, my jism exploding from my great cock in a continuous and audible torrent, arching a hundred yards across the worshipping masses. At the same time, I brought my impossibly powerful arms into a double biceps pose and held it for some time, my cock thrusting into the world that was mine to rule, biceps flexed in a display of the dominance that my slaves so desperately craved, cum gushing forth endlessly like water from a hydrant. I managed to contain the roar that would normally announce one of my epic orgasms to save the hearing of the sea of worshippers surrounding me. Instead, I sensed tens of thousands of sympathetic orgasms, heard tens of thousands weeping at my glory, and much closer, something yelling the name “Jamal.” I opened my eyes. To my right, I recognized the young blond slave I had seen earlier. It was on the ground in a fetal position, crying and repeating the phrase “please stop.” Directly in front of me, the peculiar read-headed slave was screaming at me, “Jamal! I’m Hank! Your best buddy!” It jumped up and down before me, sweat flying from its body, clearly trying to get my attention. Like the blond, this slave was experiencing extreme stress and discomfort, yet resisted assuming its proper position. “This isn’t you, Jamal!” It screamed. The creature was puzzling – addressing its god as a familiar – and I wondered if it was defective. I will heal its mind when my power grows strong enough. “You do not worship me,” I said even as it resumed yelling. “Not until you come back to us,” it said. “Come back? I AM YOUR GOD!” I roared and it immediately fell to the ground and lay motionless. “I AM ETERNAL!” Satisfied, I turned to the young blond who remained curled up on the ground. I lifted it up by its shirt and held it suspended before me. “You two do not worship like the others,” I said. “Why?” “We are your friends,” it said in a broken voice. “We love you.” “Of course you love me. Everything loves me.” “But you love us too.” I laughed at its ridiculous claim. I could no more love a slave than it could love a virus. “Jamal,” it said, its face screwed up with pain. “I’m Matt, your sexy boy. Remember?” It was delusional as well, and I dropped it to the earth. “Lick your god’s massive cock,” I commanded. “I have a better idea,” the redheaded slave yelled. “Why don’t you pull your big head out of your sealed up ass!” It said as it leapt and slammed its fist against my cheek. I could hear and feel its bones shatter and it again fell to the ground, screaming in agony. I looked down and watched dispassionately as it writhed in pain. “You may drink your god’s cum and be healed,” I said. “FUCK YOU!” It bellowed. I blinked. “FUCK YOU!” I screamed as I stormed out of Hank’s apartment. And I was myself again. “Just kill me,” Hank said as he looked up at me. His face was wet with tears. “Hank,” I said. “I’m Jamal. I’m still here.” “Oh, great,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Welcome back.” “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to stop it, but the important thing is that I’m back.” “I don’t care anymore. I can’t see you like that again. It’s too painful.” He managed to squat on his knees. He cradled his injured right hand. “Kill me. Please.” “What?” I asked. I heard him perfectly but could not believe my ears. “I won’t live as a nameless slave to you. We have too much history. Kill me,” he said. “Now.” “Me too,” Matt said as he squatted next to Hank and carefully examined his injured forearm, wrist and hand. He looked at Hank, his cheeks still wet with tears. “I love you.” Hank smiled. “I love you too.” Matt looked right at me. “We’re ready. Kill us.” I rolled my eyes. “C’mon guys. Can we lose the melodrama?” Hank somehow jumped to his feet and approached, scowling. “Melodrama? MELODRAMA? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU’RE LIKE WHEN YOU SLIP INTO THIS ‘GOD’ MODE?” I started to respond then realized that something else had drawn his attention. He stared blankly into space for several seconds. “Hank?” Matt asked. He held up his hand toward Matt. “Wait…” Hanks’s brow furrowed as if he was confused or trying to parse something he could barely hear. I looked at him closely and as I watched, his eyes began to grow cloudy, dark. What the fuck? I’m dreaming again? “We need your guidance, your rule, your protection,” Hank said under his breath. His words were barely audible. “What?” I asked, not expecting an explanation. The truth was, now that I was standing there, surrounded by thousands of followers, I had no idea where to start. “Guidance?” I asked. “Protection?” I looked at Matt. “I’m some kind of über-daddy now?” “Alpha Stud, Über Daddy, God,” he said. “Does the label really matter?” I looked at Hank. His eyes were normal again. “What Matt said.” I was about to ask Hank what was going on with his eyes when I became aware of the distinctive sound of a jet. The scream of its engines. The roar as it sliced through the air. It was Hank who saw it first. “Above the trees to the north,” he said, but by the time I looked, the enormous aircraft was nearly overhead, perhaps a few hundred feet to the east. American Airlines. “Looks like a Triple Seven,” Matt observed. “It’s way too low,” I said as I looked at him. “No way.” …the familiar roar of an approaching jet aircraft filled the air. Familiar, but much too loud. I instinctively looked up. A commercial jet was almost directly overhead and at an insanely low altitude. Goosebumps rose on my entire body and even as I watched, the jet slammed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center, enveloping the upper floors in a ball of flame… Hank met my eyes and shook his head. “It’s headin’ right down Fifth, man. Oh no. Oh no. This ain’t happenin’.” A feeling of dread washed over me and for several moments all that could be heard was the diminishing roar of the 777 as it disappeared beyond the high-rises of Midtown. And then there was no sound at all. Next Chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14820-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-fifteen/

This is perhaps a monologue, or short play with one speaking part and others nonspeaking, rather than a story, so I hope it's not out of place. It was inspired by a work by the artist MSSF, which is at the end. i INVICTUS: or, The Captive Aside, to himself: My mind is mine and never will be his. Then, speaking aloud: I am your captive. My life and my body are yours. Beat me. Torture me. But enslave me not, nor keep me idle in a dungeon deep. Hasten my life to its end. Make of me with knives your complete sacrifice. Again to himself: Thus will my last moments pass quietly in my mind, for I will know that my end comes soon. When it does, I will have freedom, freedom from this mortal body which he defeated in battle, freedom from the shame of defeat before my warriors, my men, my sons. Aloud: Yet with your knives, take special care before you stab and slice my mortal flesh. Make sharp your sweet steel and as you carve and sever keep fresh your blades that you may cleanly cut and my blood may quickly flow. Limit not the artifice of your craft, but fulsomely display your handwork. Create thus a pleasing sight for your eyes, but not for your eyes only. A worthy deed well done must be seen. Issue a summons. Bring forth your high priest and his acolytes. Call forth your sons who must with their own true eyes bear witness that they may know, not by the poetizing of your scribe, but by their own beholding, the savage beauty as their father draws death from life and my unworthy body, flayed and bled, expires to a corpse. Again to himself: His look is fierce and keen, but still unquenched. And now aloud: I see and all here now assembled see your risen cock, and mine. Your manhood rises in triumph. Mine rises to honor your victory. Yet among the assembled, whisperers pass judgment that your captive flaunts his member in defiance. To quell them, command my final ejaculation. Order a show. For in my tribe, as high priests and consuls attest, the jizzum of their warrior-prince possesses potent magic. Nothing in alchemy surpasses it. Indeed, my very sons have supped on it, that they may be strong and valorous. To honor your manhood, command the last surge of my seed. From my risen cock, engender a fountain of virility. Provoke my testicles in their sack. Rouse my idle semen and incite my hoary balls to issue yet more sperm, as you do, and pull and stretch my scrotum, and slice it off. Take with it those two jewels which men so admire and praise. That kind action of yours will make my manhood prouder still, and in its pride, it will bring forth for you my rapturous final ejaculation. No further touch will be necessary. But have your chest ready that my unctuous jizzum may splurge there as my tribute. And have your sons at hand that they may lap at your nips, not as pups, but as men. For in my seed, there is that powerful magic of which I spoke, and which will make them brave and strong. Thus will they make battle victorious against my own sons, for your sons will have the power of your seed and my seed against my puny sons who have but the power of their own father’s seed. Sotto voce, and turning his head slightly: Scribe, if you hear this tale, write it as I tell it. But know yourself, and in confidence tell two or three wise poets, that my conquerer is a gullible and foolish man who puts faith in such magical potions and tall tales as educated men long ago put aside. I know his weakness in this, as in blood and in lust. Thus, even in defeat, I prevail over him, and in this way, abrupt and savage, I make a quick end for myself. Aloud again: When I have thus anointed you, then slice again. Slice off my shaft, which even then will stand erect in your honor. Display my defeat. My cock is your scepter. Then vanquish me as you and your sons, splurge your cum on your bloody trophies. The deeds being done, the captive dies. art by MSSF

NOTE: THIS STORY IS GONNA' BE VIOLENT. STOP NOW IF THAT TURNS YOU OFF. When Krishna was a child, he was, for the most part, normal. He always had an unnaturally beautiful face, one that could go on the cover of a magazine without any Photoshop. And he always was strong for his size, and loved playing rough. But nobody could have expected him to become the monster he is today. Once he hit puberty, Krishna’s growth skyrocketed past all human records. Krishna's metabolism was flawless - he never seemed to lose his pump, instead growing bigger and stronger after every workout. His body reacted explosively to even the slightest exertion, pumping up as huge and hard in fifteen minutes as a normal athlete would in an hour. He would eat at least eight times a day - a full meal every two hours - but only seemed to gain muscle, never fat. He could eat ten buckets of Blue Bell and still be as lean and ripped as Mr. Olympia. His heart pumped with enough force to kill an elephant, and his senses were so developed that he could see an ant and hear its footsteps from twenty feet away. His body naturally produced and utilized ten times more growth hormone than an average Olympic gold medalist. But despite experiencing a hyper-puberty that pumped his muscles with enough testosterone to swamp a high school locker room, Krishna never experienced any of the downsides of adolescence. His face seemed to evolve almost overnight from the sweet, effeminate innocence of a child to the seductive, masculine eroticism of an adult. He never once experienced a single pimple or an awkward voice crack. His voice dropped almost instantaneously into a deep, sexual rumble that made Barry White sound like a pipsqueak. His earth-shaking tones were so powerful that he gave straight men boners just by saying his name. He could hardly go through a day at school without giving at least one teacher a standing orgasm. By the time Krishna was a sophomore in high school, he had the body of Mr. Olympia and strength that surpassed any powerlifter. He destroyed the competition on the football field and the wrestling mat. He could shoot with perfect accuracy from anywhere on the basketball court. He ran cross-country with speed that would make Usain Bolt green with envy. And there was a genius brain behind that pretty face with a hunky body - by the end of his freshman year Krishna had already earned a perfect score on the SAT. His brain created neural connections so fast that he could read through entire graduate-level textbooks in a single afternoon. Krishna first learned of his love for violence when he was 15 years old. He was playing a game of football when he saw the kid. There was something about him Krishna hated - maybe it was his ugly smirk, or his nasally voice, or his obnoxious strut. But whatever it was, Krishna decided that he wanted to take the faggot down. He made it look like an accident. Krishna ran straight into him - a tackle so forceful that the man's spine, ribcage, and skull cracked. The boy hit the ground, breathless. After that, it was decided that Krisnha was too dangerous for sports. But Krishna discovered that killing that kid was way more fun than playing football. Later that night, Krishna went to his neighbor's house, an old pervert that was always ogling the hot young teen. Krishna showed up at the door wearing nothing more than a pair of black briefs, which were stressed and strained to the max by the boy's enormous manhood. The homo dropped to his knees, his eyes so wide that they might have popped out, his heart beating so loud that Krishna could actually hear it. The man rubbed his small, weak hands all over Krishna's quads and calves and ass, unable to believe such perfect musculature existed, unable to believe this was really happening, unable to believe that the hottest man in his sad little closeted gay life was standing right in front of him. Krishna pulled out his jawbreaking penis and shoved it in the man's inadequately sized mouth, tearing apart the sides of his lips and dislocating his fragile jaw. When Krishna was done facefucking him, the man was nothing more than a bloody stain on the dirty carpet. Krishna started sneaking out to the city after his parents fell asleep. He would find some skinny boy in an isolated part of the local college campus. Krishna would lead the poor sucker into a dark alley and give him a kiss with his full juicy lips. The guy would be so turned on, never having experienced such an amazing kiss in his boring suburban life, and he would cream his pants with his pitiful seed. Then Krishna would give the closet case a hug, and the poor sap would cream himself again, never imagining that he could ever be surrounded by so much dark,powerful, manly teenage muscle. But then he would squeal and beg for Krishna to let go. But Krishna wouldn't. He would keep tightening and tightening his death hug until the boy chest caved in and his spine shattered. Sometimes Krishna found a couple making out in the corner of a deserted parking lot. Krishna would make eye contact with the male, and the man's erection would grow bigger and harder than any woman could ever make him grow. Then Krishna would grab the woman and fuck her like a jackhammer as her boyfriend watched, his sex so mind-blowing that each and every thrust bringing forth a new orgasm from both the man and woman. Krishna's stamina was so great that he could fuck for hours without stopping. Eventually, the man's heart would give out, unable to handle so much sexual pleasure, and the woman's body would simply fall apart under Krishna's pussy-destroying cock. Once, a cop stepped in on one of Krishna's kills. Krishna started walking towards the cop, and the cop, panicking, drew a gun and emptied his barrel. Krishna dodged the bullets without even looking at them, his lightning-fast reflexes making the superhuman task easy for his overdeveloped body. When he was in arm's reach of the officer, he grabbed the officer by the head and crotch and forced the man’s skull backwards. The officer screamed as his spine cracked and his abs ruptured, Krishna forcing the head back further and further until his torso was bent in half and his head was shoved inside his ass. Then Krishna grabbed the man's arms and legs and ripped them off - Krishna's arms were so strong that the man's muscles and bones tore apart like paper in his hands. Krishna left the man to die - he didn't know whether he would die of blood loss or suffocation first, and he didn't care. The death of the officer was discovered the next day, and the headlines shocked the country. People were horrified of the photo of a muscular, middle-aged cop bent in half, head-in-ass, limbless and bleeding. When Krishna saw that photo, he masturbated to it for six hours. Krishna's career began when he was working out at a gym one day. A bald, tall man approached him. He was nearly as tall as Krishna himself, and would have looked muscular had he been standing next to anybody else. “Hey kid. You a bodybuilder? Powerlifter, maybe?” Krishna looked over at him. He had a confident smile on his face, despite the raging boner in his perfectly ironed dress pants and his nervously shaking hands. Krishna casually bounced his pecs, and chuckled at the way the man's dick jumped with them. “Why do you want to know?” The man strategically adjusted his hands to cover the growing wet spot at his crotch. “I'm an agent for bodybuilders and powerlifters. You're the most promising young man I've ever seen. I can provide you with tons of sponsors. Normally, getting to Mr. Olympia is a lifelong endeavor, but with a body like yours, I'm sure we can…” “Not interested.” Krishna interrupted. “I'm not interested in fame.” As Krishna walked away, the man frantically chased after him, an obvious trail of jism spurting from his pant legs. “Wait! It's not just fame. It's money too! Our sponsors can provide you with food, clothing. You'll be able to grow bigger, stronger. You'll be able to destroy your competition on stage in front of a huge audience. We'll give you all the…” “Destroy.” Krishna growled. The man stopped, practically holding his dick now, trying to stop himself from coming as he took in Krishna's impossibly beautiful body and sonorous, sexual voice. “Destroying the competition… I like the sound of that.” The man nodded vigorously. Now he was frothing at the mouth, his hips bucking, gargling incomprehensibly. “Give me your company's number. Write it down right here - I'll call them later.” The man grabbed the pen and erratically wrote the number down. The handwriting was barely legible, but Krishna was able to make it out. The man pounced on Krishna's relaxed arm, which hung lazily down his side. “Please,” the agent mumbled his last words, “flex it for me.” Krishna smiled, and slowly brought his arm to a horizontal. Then, with a casual flex and a sudden BOOM, the man died, his hands tightly grasping Krishna's literally heart-stopping bicep as he shot seed all over himself. Krishna soon made a name for himself when he broke every major weightlifting record ever set. He could bench and squat over a ton without assistance, for reps. He used weight for one-armed bicep curls that champions used for deadlifts. He became known as “The Last Lifter” because nobody else could ever hope to break a lifting record ever again. There were accusations of steroids, but doctors found nothing but natural teenage hormones flowing through Krishna's bloodstream. When Krishna stepped on the Mr. Olympia stage at 18 years old, he didn't even look like he was the same species as the competition. He stood over a foot and a half taller than the average competitor, with wasplike proportions - his powerful shoulders twice as wide as the biggest competitor, his miniscule waist narrow as a female supermodel. His muscles were unfathomable, so massive and monstrous individually yet so balanced and beautiful in unison. Every single man on stage had the largest erection they had ever experienced in their lives, yet their manhood was still dwarfed by the teen’s mouth-watering flaccidity. One of the judges had a heart attack. The others forgot where they were, so amazed were they by Krishna's unprecedented routine, bedazzled by his gloriously flexing biceps, his shirt-tearing triceps, his eye-popping chest, his tree-like quads. One of the competitors started crying halfway through, and soon, they all were. They weren't just crying that they lost the competition. They were crying that they would never be able to win. Crying that their bodies had no chance of attaining Krishna's size and power and perfection. Crying that not even the strongest performance-enhancing drugs could give them Krishna's body. Crying that their children and their children's children would still look like twigs compared to Krishna. They were crying from Krishna's beauty, his handsome face, his perfect smile, his flawless lips, his gorgeous eyes. Then they came, one by one, an entire stage of full-grown alpha males from around the world cumming at the sight and smell and thought of a single teenage boy, only barely legal but stronger and hotter than every one of them put together. Krishna took his trophy graciously and left the room, walking through a sticky mess of cum and jizz and pussyjuice covering the dead and dying bodies spasming across the floor.

Hey guys, my first story on the forum, hope you enjoy, will post up a part 2 shortly. “Sam… SAM, GET IN HERE!” I hadn’t realised that I been instinctively cowering when his voice boomed across our flat. My friends first pointed it out when my hulking roommate invited himself out for drinks with us. It did come as a bit of a surprise to me when they told me this, mainly because Nick had never actually hit me or even threatened to, it’s just that I felt, like somehow, Nick could just bend my will. One of my closest friends at the time said I shouldn’t cower, like a puppy, but stand up to him. I could hear the strain in Nick’s voice though and I hurried into his bedroom. The sight and smell assaulting my senses as I entered; the smell of man went right up my nose in the first inhalation. It was sweat, stale sex, rich testosterone and damp, a kind of damp that you can only find in a student rugby players bedroom. It made my cock kick in its loose, thin, cotton sweats. Then of course, there was Nick, dressed only in a pair of boxers, with his weight bench sat upright, holding one of his 45kilo dumbells in both hands and grinning devilishy at me. “Dude, shoulder press… hand me the other 45!” his dark brows and long but spiked hair giving him a wolfish look. Dodging an empty takeaway carton, a discarded jock, a heap of college notes and at least one used condom, I picked my way to the dumbbell. The smell intensified as I got nearer to him. “Come on man, gotta get this done before Jen gets here” he grunted. I bent down, carefully raising the heavy dead weight. I hefted it over to Nick’s waiting hand as he got into position. I licked my lips as his biceps bulged as he flexed his arm into position. Both his thick pecs flattened out and his delts swelled freakishly, choked with veins from a pump. “Stand back” he ordered. I would like to say I watched, to say that I spotted him, but Nick was a tornado of male energy. A guttural roar emanating from his chest as he flexed the weight soaring toward the ceiling, his form disturbingly accurate. As his arms reached the maximum height, the clink of the dumbbells and the exposure of his forestry of pit hair, made my organ start to pulse in my shorts. As he went for more reps, so the smell escaping from his pits intensified over and over. The room filled with his scent. Looking back, I think that is one of the things that made me capitulate to Nicks demands as my flatmate. As the grunting continued, his shoulders and arms steadily bulging bigger from the pump, I quietly left the room wordlessly. I crept back to my smaller bedroom, put my hand gently on the top of my strictly average, rigid member, and felt it fire off into my pants. My legs weakening, I sank to the floor. My own varsity swimmers physique, feeling childlike compared to Nick’s hulking body. Soon, Nick’s girlfriend would be here, and I would be listening to them go at it for a few hours. I realised that I should probably try and get some sleep before it all kicks off. After cleaning up my own mess I walked down to the kitchen for a pre-bed snack, as I did, I thought about how Nick and I started off fairly evenly matched, how we were actually good mates who moved into this small, penthouse flat, off campus together. The weight set, the benches, bars, all bought with combined part time job salaries of both me and Nick. Now I barely get to use it. As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed his array of proteins adorning the top of the fridge. Is that all it took to make him bigger than me? Irritable, I escaped back to my room, snack in hand. I woke with a start. The all too familiar, rhythmical banging of Nick’s headboard against his wall had woken me. I decided against languishing in bed, getting a semi from the image of Nick’s powerful body fucking Jenna, his fitness-model cover girl. I skulked off to the kitchen and started making pancakes. Down the corridor of the tiny flat, I could hear Nick step up his rhythm and the grunting got louder. “He’s close…” I thought, before immediately regretting it, as I felt my cock thicken. I poured the milk into the blender and turned it on, which nicely drowned out the noise of Nick’s big finish. As I waited for the mixture to thicken, I again glanced up at the top of the refrigerator. Nick was reasonably busy, so I reached up and pulled down the white looking container. I had listened to Nick extol the virtues to protein, and pre-workout and whatever happened to be flavour of the month at the time. But this… this I didn’t know about. Which was out of character for Nick. I looked over the label, it was plain white with black text. Plenty of scientific writing, this was clearly not something picked up off the supermarket shelves. I couldn’t really argue with the results though. Nick had been getting bigger and bigger, much stronger too, all in the last few weeks his progress seemed to have jumped. But he wasn’t just getting bigger, he was getting leaner too. Most of all, Nick was getting bullish, ordering me around, demanding stuff, doing whatever he liked with little consideration, his new strengthened frame easily backing up his command of me. As that last thought lingered in my head I decided I should try some of the shake. Quickly, not wanting to get caught by Nick, I spooned two tablespoons of powder into a protein shaker and quickly poured water in on top. As I was shaking it, excited to see if I could catch up to Nick, I realised the sound of the blender had been masking the sound from Nick’s room. I reached and clicked the blender off and the swirling pancake batter came to a stop. I could hear the sound of my own breathing, and feel the beating of my heart inside my chest. But nothing else, Nick was clearly finished with his girlfriend. I had to get the stolen protein shake back onto the shelf before Nick came into the kitchen. I hefted the white tub into my hands and raised it above my head. “Dude… you made me a post-fuck shake!” I, almost froze at the sound of Nick’s voice, but managed to get the tub back on top of the fridge. My heart pounding at the thought of being discovered, sinking to the level of deception to try and catch up with Nick’s recent gains. As I turned to face Nick a further reality dawned. Stood there, semi hard, straining his boxers, a wet spot visible, his thick muscular topless torso, hard and glistening with sweat from his recent exertion. Nick’s look was not truly one of thanks. He observed me from underneath his thick dark brow, his bulging muscle giving him a menacing look. “Thanks for making it for me, but next time, don’t… it’s special stuff, only designed for me…” Nick almost growled through gritted teeth. “Tomorrow… you…me… college gym… chest day…” Nick continued between big gulps from my protein shaker. Thumping me on the chest with a meaty paw. I said nothing, as I watched the behemouth, swig the luminous orange coloured shake, small droplets escaping as Nick guzzled greedily, landing hapharzardly on his bulging pectoral muscle. “OK!?” Nick yelled, eyes narrowing, before belching loudly. “Yeah, sure Nick, sounds good” Nick eyed me for a few more seconds, turned on his heel and bounced off back to his room. I quickly retreated to bed, the pancake mixture left languishing in the blender. Tomorrow would be a heavy one. The next morning, I was awoken by the deafening bangs on my bedroom door. My head raised from my pillow to find my unimpressive dick had been erect and oozing all night, probably as a consequence of the thought of a gym visit with Nick. This crush had come out of nowhere, but it seemed to be growing stronger the bigger Nick seemed to grow. I dragged myself to the kitchen; Nick was already there, his tight muscle tank straining to hold back his bulging chest. “Time you got up lazy…” grinned Nick “Ready to go?” I croaked “What do you think little man?” he grunted, pulling a crab pose bursting with ripped muscle. As we walked to the campus gym, across the very quiet and expansive campus, the cold bit into my skin, but Nick seemed not to notice. Somehow, the elements only sought to make Nick even more brutally masculine and dominating. Reaching the gym, we headed straight for the weights section, deserted except for a lone American football player grunting softly between reps of squats. I did my level best not to stare at Nick, but mostly failed. His deep golden tan and his coarse dark hair gave him a wealthy exotic appearance, even as he began to warm up his veins pulsed and distended as his a gentle swell began in his muscles. “Chest today…” Nick said visibly bouncing ready to exercise. I berated myself for once again not suggesting a different body part. I only ended up working chest and sometimes shoulders because these are the exercises that Nick wanted a spotter for. I loaded up the bar precariously with extra 20kilo plates just for Nick. Trying his best to ignore me, Nick swung himself down on the bench and got into position in order to begin the workout. In this position, I was rewarded with the vision of the swell and heave of Nick’s chest. Nick on the other hand, would have had to settle for my crotch disturbingly close to his head. “Ready?” Nick grunted, and grabbed the bar, not really giving me time to react. As it transpired I was not immediately required. The new 20 kilo plates seemed like only an extra 5 to Nick’s mounding chest. He couldn’t help himself but smirk as the weight, no doubt felt lighter and easier to manage, than expected. I watched as Nick revelled in the all too familiar sensation in his chest, the pump soared through him, his triceps bulging as his chest bloating from the impact of the weights resistance. Again he pressed it up with ease, his big python plumping down the taught rugby shorts. This had quite literally meant, that whatever he was taking, maybe that new shake, had made him even stronger since last week. “woah dude… this is insane…” I said quietly murmuring watching the spectacle unfold. I watched on, Nick’s chest bulging and swelling as he grinningly pressed the weight, seemingly with growing ease. His arms didn’t shake and his form didn’t falter. His triceps flared, the veins distending along his arms giving him a look of sheer unstoppable power. He racked the weight without any help from me. When it was my turn, plates came off and I got into position, my head now close to Nick’s obscene bulge in his sweats. Not only did it look big, but this close, I could smell the incredible scent of the contents of his jock and it make the usual feelings bubble to the surface. I did my usual workout, my pecs fraught with effort and arms struggling with my usual weight, I watched Nick spot me, as my arms shook with almost half the weight he used, I looked up to him grinning down at me. This gave me the strength to finish my last few reps, but still, it served only to highlight the growing disparity in our muscle strength. The rest of the workout, I was feeling increasingly unhappy seeing Nick blow through all of his maxes and continuing to set new personal bests. I watched, uncomfortably as he nailed every chest exercise with greater than ever strength, amazed as he seemed to cope with anything thrown at him. I was so envious of his success, I figured I had to make a drastic change in my life or I’d get left behind. As I watched Nick strip for the shower, a common ritual after our workouts, that actually, maybe I needed to even the score. Later that night, Nick was out of the flat on a romantic date with his girlfriend. So I sneaked into his room while he was away. If Nick was taking this experimental supplement, there had to be some physical proof, letters, brochures, consent forms; there just had to be something to give me a clue. I needed to get on the trial. As I picked my way through Nick’s room, I found a cryptic letter from the andrology department of our university, now, SCU wasn’t exactly known for its research but, clearly, they were getting something right. However, before I had chance to read the information, I heard the familiar rattle of keys outside of the flat door, in a panic, I threw the letters back into the draw and slammed the draw shut, however in doing so, the cupboard rocked backwards then forwards. I looked upwards, in time to see the contents of one of Nick’s used condoms flow back out of the untied end and splash onto my forearm. I didn’t have time to react; I just bolted from Nick’s room out into the corridor and ran straight for my room. As I closed my door, I could hear Nick and Jenna come home and begin some post-date “activities”. My breathing calmed and my pulse slowed. My attention was drawn to the burning sensation on my right arm; I looked down to see the bright red streak across my supinated arm. I kept looking at it, it was red, and glowing, but there was seemingly no evidence of the disgusting contents of the used rubber. I was feeling hot all over, not just from the burning sensation on my arm, my clothes didn’t feel right on me. In the privacy of my own room, I shucked my clothes and went over to the mirror. I felt a spasm in my gut, then, suddenly, an intense warm glow spread through my body. I looked at myself in the mirror, my pecs hardened, abs tightened. I looked on in amasement, feeling sheer power tear through my body. My traps seemed to thicken, my delts pushed out from shoulders, giving them a fuller, rounded look. I was even convinced I was taller. I felt my legs precipitously thicken, I watched the inner head of the quadriceps surge into view, which only happened when I flexed, and yet, I wasn’t flexing. I looked up at my face, for the first time since I started college, I felt that I looked handsome and healthy. A grin unconsciously spread across my face. I had no idea how this happened, but I absolutely loved it. I posed for a little while longer. Feeling the bulge and play of my newly developed musculature, the heady experience of being taller, if only a fraction… Best of all the sensation that I must have a semi, except my cock was fully flaccid. I gyrated my hips watching the new piece of meat bounce around. It got hard easily and I wrapped my hand around it. My legs nearly gave way as my cock began firing round after round across the room, ribbons of pure white spunk blasted out and still my cock bounced in front of me, as if to fire again. I tucked the raging pole back into my strained boxers and glanced in the mirror. “Fuck yeah” I grunted, trying to flex my abs. Only, I’d never sworn into the mirror before… or actually… in many years. My stomach growled so I went to the kitchen dressed only my boxers. The bulge still present as I walked, for the first time, it seemed to bounce up and down gently as I walked along. I got into the kitchen, surprised to find Nick there, sat alone at the table, also dressed only in his boxers. He looked pale, and not in his usually arrogant vigour. The pale palour even made him look a little less masculine than normal. “You ok bro?” I said, sounding surprisingly manly. “Yeah, yeah, just had a bit of a funny turn…” Said Nick cryptically. The next morning, I woke up for the gym. I casually wrapped my hand around a raging morning erection, the cock, seemed bigger and stronger than I ever remembered. I brushed my hands up my thinner waist, across my flat stomach to the new shallow contours on my chest from my thickened pectorals. My hand found its way to the alarm clock, but it seemed I had awakened before my alarm clock, before Nick had the chance to wake me. I felt incredible after last night’s dramatic turn of events. Not only mentally but physically. I could feel energy just seem to stream out of me, I was ready to lift. The thoughts of stealing Nick’s new experimental protein shake could not be further from my mind at the moment, as a night’s sleep and deliberation had led me to the conclusion it was probablyresponsible for the effects of his potent spunk. I dressed, in front of the mirror, looking at my new body. I smiled as I quickly gave my arms a flex and my fresh, new biceps jumped up in my arms, now slightly less egg like, now definitely more fusiform in their appearance. Quietly dressing and walking out into the corridor, there was no Nick waiting with an annoyed glare, so I made for the kitchen. Nick’s half eaten breakfast was still on the table as he was filling up his protein shaker. “Y.. you’re up?” he croaked. I looked at him, he looked sleepy and tired. He rubbed his eyes and kept blinking at me. He was haphazardly dressed and his hair matted down to his head from the sweat of his night time activities with Jenna. “Are you ok dude?” “Err, just feeling a bit rough.” He answered, still staring at me. “Dude… did… you look like you, *ahem*, you’ve been making progress in the gym…” He continued, still staring at my chest. “Yeah, I think you might be right dude.” I replied, desperately avoiding the urge to show off my chest by flexing in front of Nick. He prepared his shake and we headed out. In the car, as we drove, I could feel Nick’s eyes stealing odd glances at me. I began to regret wearing the sleeveless top as I wasn’t sure if he was actually paying attention to the road. I could feel my balls tingle at the thought of a workout, I couldn’t wait to test my new muscle and I couldn’t wait to show Nick that I was capable of catching him up. As we arrived at the gym, he turned to me before we exited the car. “How did you do it dude?” “Do what Nick?” “How did you get bigger, we only worked out together yesterday, and now, you’re bigger… how?” “Nick, are you ok? I’m the same, just been working out hard.” “Dude, seriously?” “You’re delusional, now drop it” I growled with an uncharacteristic aggressive tone in my voice. Nick clearly got the message and promptly stopped asking questions, but his dark stare intensified. In the gym, Nick’s chest workout was woeful, his lifts were slightly down, he grunted and flailed with his usual weight and made much use of me as spotter. Clearly this bothered him, because he was getting progressively sharp in his statements as the hour wore on. When he had first removed his hooded jumper, he looked sick and, almost smaller. I however, was having a great workout, I loved the feeling of my chest bulging outward, the stretch of the fabric against it, the surge of the feeling of power and pride throughout me, setting new strength goals, took all my focus not to get rock hard. Whilst this was going on Nick, eyed me jealously. I could feel his cold dark eyes burning into me as he reluctantly spotted me for a new personal best. Before we could hit the showers, Nick insisted we do a flat bench press. I felt this was more of an exercise to prove a point instead of the training value of adding in another heavy set, complex lift at the end of the workout. As I pressed the weight up, I felt my body burn with exertion, I felt amazing. I added almost 10kg to my previous bench from yesterday, even with exhausted pectoral muscles from the previous hour workout. Nick racked up his usual weight, and through much straining and gritting of teeth and of course, some help from his loyal spotter, was able to do a few reps at his usual weight. As he racked the weight, it was clear the point he was trying to make, had not been as clearly illustrated as he had hoped. As he stared at me I obliviously fondled my swollen chest muscle. “What?” I asked “Nothing, lets hit the showers…” he said grinning for the first time today. Nick’s mood seemed to improve here as we entered the changing room. As he rather quickly undressed, I rolled my eyes, knowing what was coming. “Coming to shower?” he asked, grinning at me, as he intentionally groped his thick, soft cock, though wanting me to believe it as a mere adjustment for comfort. I undressed at the normal speed, grabbed my towel and followed him into the shower. As I walked in, I watched him slowly lather soap into his thick musculature. His soft cock, swinging gently back and forth as his arms worked above him. I turned my head, to glance at his cock, figuring the water must be colder than usual, as it seemed a fraction smaller than usual. As I got myself under a shower head, I looked over at him again. He was looking at me, but our eyes didn’t meet, he was looking downward at my groin. “Dude, come on, you took some of my protein didn’t you?” he said unexpectedly “Look, Nick, I didn’t…” “Listen, I told you to stay away from it.” He grunted, his eyes looking cruel with a darker hue. I glanced down at me, across my now swollen pecs, my flattered stomach, to my soft cock, I then glanced over at him. His cock looked back to its old size if not bigger, as our eyes met. I realised, that his cock was thickening. Never before had I seen Nick like this, his skin flushing, his cock becoming increasingly aroused. “You uh… need a hand there bud?” I snickered. Within a second he was on me, his powerful hands grabbing both my shoulders. When they wouldn’t yield he dragged me, hanging onto my smaller frame, causing us to collapse to the floor. I struggled against the huge bulk of his weight on top of me. A leg each side of my chest, he positioned himself on top of my pectorals, his big, thick cock growing up and outwards towards my face. His cock brushed my lips. “Is this what you wanted? Stealing glances at me all the time? Well, how does it feel now? Enjoying?” He grunted, thrusting his hips forward at the upward inflection of each question. He took hold of his long, engorging rod and smacked my lips with it. “Please st-“ before I could finished speaking, the salty, musky flavour of Nick’s thick member exploded forth as he sunk the head into my open mouth. His powerful thighs extended on top of me as more of the colossally large pole slid into my mouth. I tried to speak, but the organ took up all of my mouth, I tried to remove myself, but his huge legs pinned me. As he held himself up with one of his mighty arms, another steadied my head as he began driving the mammoth shaft in and out of my mouth. As he began pumping, I could feel a familiar burning throughout my limbs that I felt the other night after getting his cum on my arm. I could feel the precum drip down my throat, rather than fight this, I knew to let it happen, I would reach my goals, and Nick, total unknowingly, would help me. If I hadn’t had his huge rod in my mouth, I’m not sure I could hold back the grin I would have had on my face. I felt trapped as his mammoth legs pinned me, as he pumped himself into my face. I had to focus on breathing, but I could feel his pre already start to work on me, the power swelling within me like a tide. Nick was absorbed in sating his carnal urge, I brought my arms up around his muscular waist, I watched as the veins snaked and squirmed their way to the surface of my biceps, muscle fibres thickening, the individual muscles becoming visible in my forearms. I felt great, I wanted this, I urged it to happen. He grunted above, clearly enjoying himself, just as the effects of his pre began to slacken, I felt his hips increase speed an intensity. As his orgasm ripped through him, I could feel his seed fire into the back of my throat again and again. Greedily, as best that I was able, I sucked down as much as I could handle, gleefully knowing it would be my flatmates undoing. He grunted once again and then withdraw his mighty organ from my slickened mouth, shook the last remnants of his pure white spunk onto my chest. “You tell anyone about this… and I’ll end you…” His powerful body swaggered off back to the changing room, but yet as I watched him leave, I thought I could see a little less definition in his expansive back. As I lay there on the shower floor, I felt the seed I had just swallowed get to work on me. Slowly it burned in my guts, filling me with ever increasing power. I knew then, his act had given me strength beyond anything I could have achieved in a year of gym visits. I felt my ass thicken, broaden and push me up from the floor, I felt less of the floor as my back broadened and dense muscle moved in to cushion the bone. I jumped up, my stronger powerful legs growing at a pace. I glanced down to see my pecs swell, my flat stomach, flatten even more, the first hints of my abdominals erupt from beneath the skin. I grabbed onto the shower bar as more power bolted through my body. I felt the room lower as my entire body lengthened. My mouth let out an involuntary grown as my neck muscles bulged, reaching my arms up to explore my thickening neck, my new, stronger biceps bulged with power. I raced into the locker room, but I was alone, Nick had long since left, I looked into the mirror and didn’t realise the new, taller, stronger and all round more masculine Sam staring back. I pulled a double bicep pose, amazed at the sheer size and power contained within my arms, I’m not sure the average person on the street would consider them big, but I was on my way. They had to be 15 inches around, I estimated. Best of all, the familiar hardening of my cock, had a most unfamiliar quality to it. Looking down, my erection strained the now tighter swimmer trunks, the bolder individual leg muscles fought the elastic. I as I slipped down, the apparently looser waist band, I was more than happy to see my usually unimpressive erection, looked super hard, but also both longer and thicker. My bigger balls pulsed below it, urging me to lift, urged me to fight and to persue. I resisted however, and redressed myself and made for home, I had a plan. (to be continued)

Jasmine was so happy to be heading home to her nice suburban neighborhood. She hadn't seen her parents for four years, having left for college to study Criminal Justice. The 21-year-old blonde was an absolute bombshell, and while she was in college was easily able to get in the pants of any man she wanted. She worked as a supermodel to earn cash during the school year - it was an easy job that gave lots of money and appealed to her narcissistic personality. But she was smart as hell too - during all three Summers, she was able to secure impressive internships that guaranteed her a spot at all the top law firms. Unfortunately, her busy life meant that she rarely got to speak with her family, but she was eager to fix that over these next few weeks. The one person she wasn't looking forward to was that obnoxious Dylan kid. When she had left for college four years ago, he was a skinny 14-year-old basketball player who thought he was hot shit because he was his middle school team's MVP and already six feet tall. He lived next door to Jasmine, and would frequently hit on her when passing by. Jasmine so did not have time for cocky little boys, but no matter how many times she told him that the little shit didn't get the message. Jasmine hoped that she could get by these next few weeks without bumping into the twerp. As Jasmine pulled up to her front yard, she paused. Next door was an incredible sight. A tall, handsome, muscular man, far bigger than any man she had ever laid eyes on, was mowing the lawn in front of Dylan's house. She had dated several football hunks and bodybuilder types in college, and never, ever had she seen a guy this powerful-looking. He was wearing no shirt, and every muscle bulged and rolled, phenomenally defined, his beautiful tanned skin stretched so thin that it may as well have not been there. Jasmine stepped out of her car and strutted over to the alpha stud, undoing the top button of her dress and swaying her queen bee hips. "Hey, big boy," she purred, "I don't remember ever meeting a hunk like you. The name's Jasmine... what's yours?" The stud turned off the motor and turned towards her. For the first time, Jasmine got a clear view of the musclegod's face. She gasped. "I'm Dylan," the megahunk flashed a knee-weakening smile. "And yes, I remember you, Jasmine." The blonde supermodel heard those words, but she couldn't actually comprehend what he was saying. She remembered Dylan as that flirty, hyperactive middle school punk. This man in front of her... he was one of the hottest... no, THE hottest man she had ever seen. But no, it was definitely him. Those were the same pretty brown eyes and full pink lips, but now all of his cute baby fat had melted and left behind a sculpted, drop-dead Hollywood-handsome face. He still had that obnoxiously self-confident smile, but with age his bold smirk had become breathtakingly sexy. And that was the same lazy hairstyle he was wearing four years ago, back when she left for college. Yes, this was the same boy. But in every other way, he had changed. Dylan had always been a tall, gangly teen. She had expected Dylan to remain tall even as an adult, but his height had absolutely skyrocketed. Jasmine was only 5'4, so Dylan stood well over a foot taller than her, and she got dizzy looking up, up, up into his gorgeous face. His gangliness, on the other hand, had all but disappeared. His skinny arms had grown into the most impossibly huge cannons she had ever seen. There was no way he could wear a t-shirt without popping the sleeves with those massive pythons - they were fucking bigger than her quarterback ex's quads! Speaking of quads, his thighs were literally thicker than her entire torso. She moaned out loud, thinking how hard he must fuck with those redwoods. Her face was eye-level with his deliciously thick nipples, which jutted from the heaviest, most powerful pair of pectorals she had ever dreamed of. Those pecs were so big that they actually bounced independently with his breath - or was he making them dance? They were mesmerizing, the way they swayed in the hot Texas winds, beads of sweat dropping from his mouthwatering nips. "Whoa Jasmine, you're making a mess down there." He nodded towards her crotch, and looking down, she shrieked as she realized she was touching herself, a large patch of wetness ruining the fabric around her lady parts. She glanced back up, and scowled when she saw Dylan's infuriatingly cocky smirk grow even wider. "Come on inside, I'll help you clean up." The muscleteen stepped forward and lifted Jasmine up so quickly she didn't even get a chance to breathe. At the touch of his iron-hard muscles, Jasmine felt herself squirt out even more of her feminine juices, her essence bleeding through the skirt and dripping onto the soft grass below. Dylan carried Jasmine into the house, the supermodel cumming all along the way. --- As soon as the pair were inside, Dylan grabbed Jasmine's head with one hand and smashed his mouth against hers, forcing her lips open with his tongue and ravaged her insides. With the other hand, he supported her body and fingered her moistness, driving her into further fits of ecstasy. She couldn't understand how he was doing it, but this 18-year-old musclebeast knew exactly how to make her cum, over and over and over again. She had never experienced sex as amazing as this in her four years in college with the dozens of men she'd fucked. Only after she had experienced her third orgasm - more than she normally experienced in a week - did Dylan break his lip lock. "God," Dylan growled, his voice so unbelievably deep and sexual that it forced Jasmine to release another flood of steamy volcano-hot essence. "I've been wanting to do that to you since I first met you." He dropped Jasmine on the living room sofa. She took in a huge breath, wheezing, her mind slowly recovering from the brain-shattering pleasure. "I got my first boner when I saw you in your high school cheerleading uniform," Dylan continued. "I knew that one day, I was going to conquer you. With my cock." He moved his hand to his black nylon shorts and fondled the shaft underneath. Jasmine gasped at the enormous outline, and how even soft it seemed to spill out of the musclegod's giant hands. "Except my cock was a lot smaller back then. Now..." Suddenly, the dick surged forward, enlarging several inches in seconds. Jasmine yelped - she had never seen such rapid growth! The stretchy nylon quickly tore under the force of the explosively expanding penis, which immediately slapped up against Dylan's flawless eight-pack abs with enough power to knock Dylan back on his ass. Jasmine could tell that the cock was at least foot long, easily bigger than her last two boyfriends combined, and he wasn't even fully erect! Jasmine screamed as Dylan's manhood grew and grew and fucking grew bigger. Now it was longer than her last three boyfriends! Holy shit! How could anyone take that? But wait, it was still growing! Four boyfriends! Impossible! That's two feet - twice his length only seconds ago, but still not finished! It stopped! Finally! At just short of five-boyfriends-long, Dylan's penis rivaled Jasmine's leg in length and far surpassed it in girth! It stood up, its head right above Dylan's own head, dripping a warm waterfall of mushy pre into Dylan's sexy bed of black hair. "I don't normally get this big," Dylan rumbled, legitimately surprised. "I guess I'm just really, really horny today'." "You have no idea." Now it was Jasmine's turn to be aggressive. She jumped off the sofa, her energy renewed by the superhuman man before her, climbing up his muscles to reach Dylan's cockhead. Standing on his shoulders, (and marveling at how he didn't even grimace to support her full body weight), Jasmine lowered herself slowly on Dylan's penis. The cockhead alone was too wide to enter, so she wiggled until, miraculously, she was able to slip the first half-inch inside. Immediately Jasmine screeched, her insides being torn apart by the impossibly vast girth of Dylan's fuckweapon. Her pain soon turned into unimaginable pleasure as she climaxed three times in a row, her brain trying and failing to acclimate to the sensation of having a Dylan-size cock inside of it. "Are you okay?" Dylan whispered, a surprising tenderness creeping into his erotically masculine voice. Jasmine wasn't okay. Her heart was pumping so loud that it was hurting her eardrums, and her legs were so sore that she could feel the muscle tearing apart. But she NEEDED Dylan's cock inside of her. All of it! "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed, squatting and lowering herself more, her softness slowly ripping to accommodate inch after inch after inch of the musclegod. Until... --- Jasmine woke up on a crusty, stained sofa. Her head throbbed, and she groaned, feeling fluids leak from her pussy. What day was it? What time? Where was she? How did she get here? She saw her phone to the side, and when she turned it on, she saw the text "11:13 AM, 5/22/2017". What was the last thing she remembered? She was driving home, coming back from college. But that was a long time ago... She was planning to arrive on the morning of May 20th. What had happened over the last two days? How did she sleep through it? Then she remembered. The hot guy... Dylan! That had to have been a dream. Dylan was an annoying little skinny brat four years ago. How could he grow into a nearly-seven-foot-tall male model bodybuilder with? How was it possible that these were the same stringy limbs she remembered from four years ago? And how could any human have a cock so BIG? Jasmine had never had a sex dream so ridiculous and so erotic. But it felt awfully real. "Maybe I'm going insane," she groaned, unlocking her phone to check her email. But her wallpaper had changed. It wasn't a cute flowery field. It was the man of her dreams, the man with the rockhard eight-pack, the mind-blowing chest, the jaw-dropping biceps, and that orgasm-inducingly beautiful smile. It was Dylan. Her eyes widened, then rolled up as her body convulsed and she let out a scream and an orgasm once again.

Masters Pup I walk through the door, lock it behind me and make my way to the living room. As I enter the room I glance at the clock on the wall. Ten o’ clock exactly, that’s good. I strip out of my clothes; jeans, t-shirt, jacket, socks and trainers, and lay them neatly folded on the sofa. Wearing only my boxers I walk into the middle of the room and kneel down facing the door. After a few minutes I hear his footsteps as he climbs the stairs from the basement and a shiver of anticipation runs through me. As he walks through the door into the room wearing only a pair of pale blue workout tights, it takes all of my self-control not to run over to him. To grab hold of his supremely powerful body and feel his hot, bulging muscles. To kiss his smooth, tanned skin. To savour his masculine scent. But I do not. I am a good pup and I know my place and what is expected of me. Instead I kneel before him, drinking in the sight of his physical perfection. His face is handsome and angular face, his chin darkened with a day’s stubble. His huge muscular chest rises and falls rhythmically with each breath he takes and leads down to his solid clearly defines abs. His small waist flares out into huge quads sheathed in blue spandex, the material so tight that his impressive cock is clearly outlined. He is the ultimate embodiment of masculinity. Strong, powerful, authoritive. “Good morning pup”, he smiles, his deep, dark brown eyes boring into mine, stripping my mind open and allowing him to see every aspect of me. My deepest needs and desires opened up to him. “G…good morning Master”, I croak, the mere sound of his deep commanding voice rendering me almost speechless with desire. My cock twitches in my boxers as he walks past me and I smell the musky scent from his body, a smell so potently masculine that it could be bottled as a testosterone substitute. I look over at him and take in the sight of his muscular bubble butt, flexing erotically beneath the spandex as he walks. He opens a cabinet and on a shelf sits several dog collars. I feel a pang of jealousy as I notice another collar has been added since last week. Another pup added to his ever growing litter. All of the collars are identical. Black leather, with a small ring on the back to attach a lead and a small metal plate on the front on which our names are engraved. Mine says, “laundry pup”, and I sometimes wonder if Master even remembers my birth name. I say birth as opposed to real name because my real name is whatever label my Master bestows upon me. He picks up my collar, stands behind me and gently fastens it around my neck. I feel a deep sense of peace come over me as we enact this symbol of his ownership of me. I have no cares of my own, no decisions to make. The only concern I now have is pleasing my Master. He will command and I will obey. I am liberated. “You have work to do pup”, he says, “I suggest you get started. “Yes Master”, I reply. On my hands and knees I crawl into the hall towards the laundry room. In my Masters presence I am not permitted to stand without his express permission. I am his pup and I am expected to crawl at his feet. Once in the laundry room I stand and walk over to the washing hamper. I start to lift out the dirty laundry when I notice a pair of black trunks. It is clear from the stains that my Master has at some point unloaded a torrent of cum into them and I lift them to my face. I inhale deeply, savouring the smell of my Master’s crotch, my dick hardening as I do so. I am tempted to place them in my mouth, to hungrily suck on them and taste my Master, but I refrain. It is enough that I am smelling his dirty underwear, to lick them without his permission would seem like a violation. I am here to serve him, not satisfy my own perverted urges. I start to load the washing machine and once that is done I empty the dryer in preparation for the ironing. I glance up at the flat screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the ironing board and stare. The screen is linked to a camera in my Master’s basement gym and he is there performing dumbbell flies with 2 massive looking barbells. I stare in awe as he performs rep after rep, his muscles flexing and contracting in beautiful symphony. My Master doesn’t always work out whilst I am performing my duties but when he does it is both a blessing and a curse. Watching him work out his superbly conditioned body makes me painfully hard. There is no TV in the basement, nor does my Master bother with music. He is completely focused, approaching his work outs with the same single minded focus he approaches everything else. His commitment to the task at hand is total. But I must not allow myself to be distracted by his physical perfection. I have a job to do and I am expected to do it well. My Master expects his clothes to be as perfect as the body they adorn, and if I do not perform to his standards I will be punished. Of course, no punishment hurts as much as the knowledge that I have disappointed him. I begin to iron his clothes, focussing on the task and not the screen, ensuring every article is perfect before moving onto the next. As I carefully place a shirt on a hanger I notice that he has moved onto barbell squats. I allow myself a few minutes to stop and watch, as he bends his knees and his perfectly defined muscle butt lowers towards the floor, the spandex threatening to rip apart from the pressure of his swollen glutes. I can feel myself leaking pre-cum as he straightens his legs and rises back up with agonising slowness before repeating the movement. I glance down at myself to see wet spots on the front of my boxers and look away from the screen, using all my will power to stop myself from erupting uncontrollably. I go back to my tasks, emptying the washing machine and loading the laundry into the dryer, finishing off the ironing and then taking the freshly ironed clothes into his room and putting them away exactly as he likes it, all the while fighting the urge not to get distracted by the absolute masculine perfection on the screen before me. Once all the laundry is completed I head back into the living room and resume my position in the middle of the room. Ten minutes or so pass before I hear his footsteps once more ascending the stairs. I hear him walk down the hallway towards his bedroom and know that he is checking I have completed my tasks to his satisfaction. When he finally comes back into the living room the expression on his face is unreadable and he is carrying a lead. Without a word he moves behind me and attaches the lead to my collar. He walks towards the full length mirror on the far wall and tugs at the lead so that I immediately crawl after him. He stops in front of the mirror and admires himself for a few moments. The contrast between us is stark. My pale, flabby body looks truly pitiful alongside his swollen tanned muscles. Every aspect of his physique dwarfs my own. He is bigger than me, harder stronger than me. Side by side like this there can be no doubt that he is superior to me in every way. It simply reinforces my understanding that he was born to rule and I was born to serve. He moves behind me and begins to wrap the lead around his wrist, taking up the slack until my head is pulled back against him. I feel his dick, rock hard against the back of my skull and feel a surge of pride in the knowledge that my servitude is the cause of his arousal. “Take out your dick”, he commands, and I immediately reach into my boxers and take out my engorged cock. My arousal is obvious but it is no way compares to the monster appendage pressing against my skull. “Stroke yourself”. Again I obey instantly and start to slowly pump my cock. He gives another tug on the lead causing it to press against my throat, making it difficult to breath. “What are you?” he asks. “I..I am a lowly submissive”, I gasp, “and I crave the authority of my Master”. He raises his free arm and flexes increasing my arousal as I watch the reflection of the muscle swelling in size and hardness. “Repeat your mantra”, he says flexing his chest. “I am a lowly submissive and I crave the authority of my Master”, I croak. The constriction against my throat and the sight of his powerful pecs bouncing up and down are making it hard to breathe, but I dutifully chant my mantra over and over again. These are the last words I hear myself say every night as I drift off to sleep. This is the first thought I have every morning when I awaken. My very existence summed up in 13 words. I increase the tempo of my stroking as I watch his powerful, Godlike body flex over me. My breathing becomes more ragged, my voice more shrill as I feel my orgasm approach. “Cum”, he commands, and my body obeys, shooting my thick milky fluid over the floor. He unclips the lead and I slump forward physically and mentally drained. “Clean up your mess”, he growls, walking out the room. I know what is expected of me. Whenever my Master allows me to cum in his presence I am expected to lick it up afterwards but it is a small price to pay for the most intense orgasms I have ever experienced. I lean forward and begin to lap my cum off the floor and am almost finished when he returns holding a dog bowl. He watches wordlessly as I lick up the last of my cum and then places the bowl on the ground. “Thank you Master”, I say, touched by his thoughtfulness. My mouth is dry, gritty and foul tasting and I begin to lap thirstily from the bowl. The yellow liquid is warm and slightly salty and I am honoured at being allowed to ingest my Masters Godly nectar. As I slurp gratefully on his warm piss he picks up his phone and sits down on the large leather sofa. “Hey, it’s me”, he says when the other person answers. “Did you make a reservation? Good, I’ll pick you up from your place at 8, we can have a quick drink before we eat. See you then babe.” I cannot help but feel envious towards the lucky woman that will get the chance to sit across a table from this Supreme Being, knowing that at the end of the evening he will be fucking her into whimpering submission. He hangs up and immediately dials another number. This time his voice is more authoritative. “You pick me up from my house at quarter to eight and drive me into town. Don’t be late”. He ends the call without even waiting for a reply, knowing that whomever was on the other end is incapable of refusing him. When I finish drinking what is in the bowl he walks over to me, removes the collar and places back in the cabinet. “I have no further use for you today pup”, he says, “get dressed and leave. I will see you on Wednesday”. “Yes Master”, I reply, “thank you for allowing me the honour of serving you”. He smiles at my response and leaves the room. I once more gaze longingly at his broad, powerful back and incredible glutes as he walks away, and know that the next 3 days will seem like an eternity.

All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1O52F8UJS70fDmrK2gYawUXBtklu8IEUwpOdaOZrPuoM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1O52F8UJS70fDmrK2gYawUXBtklu8IEUwpOdaOZrPuoM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN Chapter 16: Wrongs, Rights, and Rimming? Marvelous Man’s reality felt like it was becoming undone. He had been careful to balance his two different lives without raising any suspicion from his friends and teammates. Adrenaline kept accelerating his heart rate with the sound of pumping blood raging in his ears, and it took every ounce of the musclebound superhero’s will to keep his breath steady. There were plenty of questions racing through his mind, but one statement drowned out the inquiries: SHIT!!! In one huge reveal, Gemini now had a new body that was exotically erotic and masculine. Apparently, he had also been employed by the D.A.B. to act as the team’s new member as a technician. But the one thing Marvelous Man hoped would not happen is Gemini recognizing Justice in his alter ego. The probability of that happening at this very moment can be compared to pulling a pin out of a grenade and not exploding. Gemini had just subtly outed Marvelous Man, while offering a handshake. There was no other choice but to keep playing along in order to keep up face. Marvelous Man accepted the handshake; gripping it with caution. The muscle demigod could feel Gemini squeezing hard enough that it felt like his hand was going to turn into a diamond. This would become the second time today his hand would be crushed. He strained back a smile. Marvelous Man stammered, “R-really? What a coimidam-I mean, coincidence.” “Yeah, I bet,” grinned Gemini. The Director sipped his glass of sweet tea before continuing. “Marvelous Man, I’ll need you to debrief Mr. Yin here about our current situation with the Skeleton Lord,” Director Skye ordered,” As for you, Gene, I’ll need you with me when we start interrogating our petrified guest. I supposed he will respond better with you in his visual vicinity.” “Understood,” bowed Gene. Director Doug turned to Fairuza. He drawled, “Fairuza, I’ll need you to help record our interrogation. Maybe you can find something whatever Gilgamesh spills to get us a better idea about our skeletal problem. Especially with how he is associated with that fiend and how he managed to keep his youth.” “Yes, sir. Of course,” replied Fairuza. The Director smiled, “Splendid. Now if y’all excuse me, we still have about two hours left before our guest thaws out, and I will be taking my lunch.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Being dismissed from Director Skye’s office, Marvelous Man and Gemini made their way towards the elevator. Neither said a word, but Marvelous Man was too aware of the tension between them. It was seconds after they entered the elevator and it closing behind them, that he tried to break the ice. “So…” said Marvelous Man, “uhhh, as the Director told you, we’re dealing with the Skele-” “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a superhero?” interrupted Gemini. Marvelous Man paused, “I...am a superhero. Is my outfit not cl-” “DON’T! Bullshit with me, Justice! I know it’s you. I have facial recognition software like every other Soulem!” exclaimed Gemini. He continued, “I mean, at least have the decency to put on a mask or something. You can blend in with the crowds of other giant black bodybuilders in this city, but that can only fool human eyes.” The muscle demigod said nothing. Marvelous Man stared down at the ground; incapable of making any eye contact with his Soulem friend. The elevator dinged as it passed the fourth floor. “When we first met, you told me you were a trust-fund baby and was in between jobs,” recanted Gemini. Marvelous Man answered, “...That wasn’t a lie...at the time. After I met you that same day, the D.A.B. hired me to become a full-time hero. Before that, I had just got my superhero license and was patrolling as a hobby.” “Oh...Still, why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were friends...maybe even best friends,” frowned Gemini. The husky Soulem’s mood rings turned to a deep blue. Marvelous Man looked up at his best friend. It struck a chord in his heart to hear someone openly validate their friendship with the bodybuilder superhero. “We are! It’s just that...I mean...I wanted to protect you and my loved ones. I don’t want my enemies to know about you and hurt you, Gemini,” explained Marvelous Man. Gemini looked at Marvelous Man with a face of bewilderment, while his mood rings turned grey. He exclaimed, “What kind of fatherfucking logic is that?! Did your understanding of the world come from an old-timey comic book or something?! I ‘supposedly’ have close relations to the you that is Justice fatherfucking Starr. Because of that, I have to know your superhero alter ego, so that I can prepare myself in the event that your well-known enemies try to get the drop on your civilian life by targeting me.” The elevator dinged again, as it passed by the third floor. Mood rings flashing red, Gemini crossed his arms. “You’re doing more harm than good. You’re not helping. You’re just being selfish,” he lectured. Marvelous Man’s vision began to turn murky, as he could feel something building up in his eyes. He clenched his fists. He was a superhero. Superheroes do not cry. They must be a symbol of unwavering strength. But…the fear of losing the only friend Justice had and the sadness of betraying Gemini’s trust felt more painful than Gilgamesh breaking his entire hand. He choked a whisper, “...I’m sorry…” Gemini stared into the muscle demigod’s eyes. As he did so, the Soulem’s mood rings’ color shifted into white. His hand slowly drifted to Marvelous Man’s until it hesitated halfway. Changing direction, Gemini placed his hand on the bodybuilder superhero’s bulging shoulder. “...I care about you, Justice. You’re the only friend around here that I have, and I barely know you. Please...tell me the truth. Just everything...anything at all...Please,” he sighed. Marvelous Man closed his eyes to prevent any seeping liquids. He could barely hear the elevator’s ding of descending passed the second floor. The musclebound superhero sobbed, “...Okay.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Soon after Marvelous Man calmed down, the two relocated themselves at Marvelous Man’s apartment. Marvelous Man did not leave as Justice earlier that day, so the he had to enter the premise through the roof access. The muscle demigod then fished a silver key out of his pocket while making his way down the steps. “Ya know, I think this is the first time I’ve been on your roof. We should go swimming on your roof’s pool before fall sets in,” mentioned Gemini. Marvelous Man nodded, “Yeah, sure. I’ve never dipped in there yet.” “That’s a shame. Too much time taken up from superheroing?” inquired Gemini. Marvelous Man answered, “Yeah, and cause I spend all my free time hanging out with you. You kinda had a fragile body back then, so that’s why all we did was walk around the mall and watch anime.” The Soulem’s mood ring flashed to pink, while he flustered. “Oh...Well...thanks for being considerate,” replied Gemini. The muscle demigod smiled, “No problem.” Marvelous Man then stopped in front of his living room closet. He briefly remember his first time arriving in the real world through there. While the process of going to another world felt somewhat magical, crossing over and arriving into the real world was so instant and tame. The bodybuilder superhero place the silver key into the door’s lock; jangling an ice cream sundae with a cherry on top keychain attached to the silver key. “Soooo, are you gonna tell me who you are and stuff? Cause I assumed you brought me back to your apartment, cause you’d feel more comfortable dishing it here...did I really just say that?” said Gemini. Marvelous Man turned to Gemini, as the Soulem’s mood ring changed to white. He spoke, “I do, but I have to show you something first before I can explain everything about me. I promise it’ll make sense once I do. Just let me change before I show you.” Raising his arms above his head, the muscle demigod placed his golden bracelets on top of the other. Marvelous Man chanted, “Marvelous Muscle Magic, Metamorph!!!” The bodybuilder superhero was instantly transported into his transformation void. After having to do it countless times to maintain his double life, he no longer dreaded it. The feelings from the transportation and assailing on his erogenous zones were at first annoyance, then numbness, and finally accepting it and enjoying the teasing pleasures. His heroic outfit exploded like shattered glass; leaving his musclebound body floating nude in the void. This was then followed by silver paint slapping at his glutes and groin. His muscular globes jiggled in every direction, as silver fabric began to form. Once the hulking man’s silver thong fully materialized, the transformation vacuum collapsed. Justice landed gently on his large feet. Taking a breath to appreciate the pleasurable transformation, Justice could feel his sex at half mast. The bodybuilder looked at his handsome Soulem friend and noticed the bulging movements in Gemini’s zaffre fundoshi. Justice’s mouth began to water, as his thoughts wondered about his friend’s robotic penis. He then realized that Gene’s hypersexuality was starting to seep into his personality. “So...you have to say that every time to transform?” coughed Gemini. Justice sighed, “Yeah. At first it was kinda embarrassing to say, but I got used to it.” The musclebound man attempted to change the subject in the hopes of distracting his thoughts and changing Gemini’s dark red mood ring. “Did I ever tell you where I came from?” asked Justice. Gemini lightly nodded his head, as his mood ring’s color turned into purple. The Soulem recalled, “Yeah, you said you came from Sunnysville?” “Uh-huh. And I want to take you there. It’ll make sense once I show you, I swear,” said Justice. Gemini’s mood ring flashed grey, as he gave Justice a confused look. He replied, “Oookaaay...Like, right now? What, we gonna use teleportation magic or…?” The Soulem tilted his head, while his eyes gazed upon the silver key in the closet’s lock. His mood ring immediately shifted to a purple. “Wait a sec! Are we gonna walk through your closet like that magical wardrobe?!” inquired Gemini. Justice could see the curious giddy in his friend’s digital eyes. The bodybuilder replied, “Ummm, I’m not sure what you’re referencing to. But yeah, we’re gonna be walking through my closet.” Gemini’s white eyes dilated like a cat enraptured by euphoric catnip. “Oh my gosh, dimensional magic?! I am going to flip if you’re telling the-uhhh...wh-what are you doing?” stammered the Soulem. During Gemini’s flabbergast, Justice had bent down in an attempt to take off his silver thong. He continued to slide it down his tree-trunk thighs while looking up. The musclebound man noticed his robotic friend’s mood ring began to constantly fluctuate between pink, grey, and dark red. He replied, “Hm? Oh, I’m just taking these off. Nobody in Sunnysville is real, so it doesn’t matter if I’m naked. You can take yours off too, if you want.” “I’m, uh, I’m good,” said Gemini. As the Soulem watched his overly muscular friend pull the silver thong down to the ankles, his mood ring color shifted to black. A wicked smile crept on his silver face. Gemini spoke up, “Soooo, if you’re not gonna wear anything, mind if ya let me dress you?” The hulking bodybuilder stood up and kicked away his thong. He then looked at the husky android with a puzzled face; unsure if he heard his friend right. “Huh?” said Justice. Gemini pressed, “Just saying. It doesn’t matter if you’re not wearing anything, since you said the people aren’t real...which is a really weird thing to say-Sorry, getting off topic. But c’mon, let me dress you. It’s not like you can be embarrassed.” Justice had never seen the Soulem’s mood ring take on a black hue, but he knew it could not be good. His instinct told him that something was amiss and to say no. But he felt like he would be letting down his friend again if he refused. The bodybuilder already hurt Gemini’s feelings once today and did not wish to do it again. “Okay,” he sighed. Gemini replied, “Great! I’ll be right back!” As the beefy Soulem’s mood ring color changed to light blue, Gemini ran to Justice’s bedroom. Justice tried to shake his unease. It seemed like an odd idea, but it could be fun. He wondered if he had the will to refuse whatever Gemini wanted him to wear. The worst thing the Soulem could do is make him wear his buttplug. He then told himself it would not be so bad, since they are only touring Sunnysville. “Dude, did you buy some anime replica sex toy?” shouted Gemini. Justice flexed his eyebrows in confusion before his eyes bulged at a faint memory. A while back, he thought it would be fun to purchase sex toys from the internet that were shaped like props from famous television shows and movies. There was only one that caught his eye that was quite similar and came at a hefty price. And after purchasing it, he forgot about trying it out; leaving it to occupy a corner of his room. Gemini continued, “Dragon Pearls™ anal balls? Some kind of Chinese knockoff? Oh wow, yeah, instead of stars, it’s got Chinese characters, heh. Geeze, it’s heavy! What is this, fourty pounds?” “Shit,” muttered Justice. Exiting Justice’s bedroom, Gemini lightly jogged back to his bodybuilder friend. He was carrying several objects in his hands, but there was something else that would catch anybody’s attention. Slinged over his shoulders and around the back of his neck were eight orange spheres interconnected with a white string. The crystal-like orbs were bigger than softballs and had red Chinese characters planted in their centers. The Soulem’s devilish smile was even wider than before, and the color of his mood rings were constantly phasing back and forth with dark red and black. Evil seemed to be dancing in Gemini’s eyes; sending a chill down Justice’s spine. Justice quickly reasoned, “Those aren’t clothes.” “Neither is your Marvelous Man bikini, yet you wear it in public cause it technically clothes your immense dong and balls,” shot back Gemini. The Soulem whined, “C’mon, broooo. You said you’d let me dress you. I mean, are you not able to fit this in you?” “I can...but I don’t want to,” replied the bodybuilder. Gemini continued griping, “Justice. C’moooon. Please? You seriously gonna take back your word?” Justice did not need Gene’s ability to sense the sexual hunger radiating out of Gemini. He knew it was going to be awkward getting pleasured by his best friend. The bodybuilder briefly wondered if all Soulems with supposed functional sex organs were as perverted as Gemini was starting to become. Knowing that he would never hear the end of it and probably hurt their friendship, Justice knew what he had to do. “Fine,” sighed the hulking bodybuilder. Gemini beamed, “Yes! I brought some lube if you need it.” “I don’t, but it’ll make this go a lot faster. Just let me clean myself out first,” said Justice. The overly muscular man thumped his way over to the bathroom. His thick cock loudly slapped against his thunderous thighs with every step. Gemini called out, “Maybe you should get a spell tattooed on yourself, so you can stay permanently clean. Unless you’re like, ya know, some sort of supernatural being or have an artificial colon.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The bulge in Gemini’s zaffre fundoshi pushed against the fabric with furious determination at a chance to be fully erect and free of the tie-string loincloth. In one hand, he held a bottle of Crack Addict lube and the Dragon Pearls™ in the other. The Soulem’s mood ring color flashed an intense dark red, as he stared at the erotic sight in front of him. Splayed open was Justice’s rear end. The bodybuilder stretched his legs open into a perfect split; resting his exceedingly meaty legs on the couch. With nothing to keep his massive bubble glutes together, his virgin hole was left exposed for the Soulem to behold. “Well? You gonna do it or not?” said Justice. Upon Justice voicing his impatience, Gemini shook his head to relieve the carnal daze in his eyes. The Soulem replied, “Huh? Oh, yeah! Sure. Just, uh, give me a second to lube up.” “Just put it on the balls. My ass doesn’t need the prepping,” said Justice. Gemini nodded, “Yeah, I can tell. It’s already got a gape. But, ummm, how’d you get it to be so puffy? It’s like a donut.” “Anal pump. I’ve been using it for...huh, it’s been years, but I actually lost count, heh. But I had to get a new one when I moved here,” explained Justice. Gemini exclaimed, “Damn! How are you not a sex obsessed being if you buy all these sexy clothes and sex toys?! You don’t bother eye-banging every guy we pass by when we go to the mall and stuff.” “I still do. Just not with every guy. And I just feel that all my sex stuff should be kept home in my own privacy. But if I was still in my teens, I would’ve let you bang me without question, hehe,” stated the bodybuilder, “But what about you? You’re trying to put a toy in me and keep staring at my hole.” The Soulem sighed, “Sorry. After my awakening and getting my new body, the moderators for my upgrade said that I’d have a hyper interest in sex for the next week or so. So it should go away soon.” “Oh, right! I totally forgot! Congratulations on your awakening! I guess that’s why you got a new body, huh?” said Justice. He then paused for a second as realization hit him. The musclebound man spoke up, “Ohhhh, so that’s why it’s also called robo puberty!” “Yeah...so I’m really sorry if I keep drooling whenever I look at you. It’s just that...your body is really hypnotizing. Especially your asshole,” licked Gemini. While Justice was used to people flirting with him, it was different to hear his best friend complement the sexual appeal of his body. It sent a tingling sensation that aroused his man meat to twitch and harden. Gemini has made comments about his body before, but it was usually about his bigness or strength. However, his Soulem friend’s new statement roused a new hunger in Justice that felt like it could only be sated with more of those sexy comments...or maybe more. Justice hesitated, “Oh. It’s cool. But thanks for saying that. Ummm, can you put it in me now?” Gemini said nothing, as his eyes kept staring at Justice’s pillow-like bussy. He walked towards the bodybuilder’s hole, as if he were in a trance, and kneeled down. The Soulem slowly leaned forward until his face planted against the stretched buttocks. With his nose pressing against the soft, donut-shaped anus, Gemini’s nose inhaled the manly scent. “Fffffuuuuuck…” exhaled the Soulem. The musclebound man flexed an eyebrow in confusion. He felt something odd, but it was not a feeling of penetration. Opening his mouth, Gemini’s black tongue rolled out. It looked almost like a normal tongue until it began to flex and undulate like a worm. As it slithered in the air, the wet tongue started to glow a soft neon blue. The glimmering, blue tongue wriggled its way onto the bodybuilder’s perineum; tasting the smooth, chocolate taint. Floundering about, Gemini’s tongue layered the soft area with Soulem saliva. The blue muscle was still not satisfied, and trailed down the perineum’s line. It met its unfortunate end, as it collided against the couch. Justice sharply gasped, “G-GEM?! Wha-” Tilting his head up, Gemini snaked his glowing tongue back into his mouth. The Soulem’s silver lips brushed against the overly-muscled rump’s. With them perfectly aligned, Gemini’s face pressed further into the exposed buttock. Justice could hear a wet smooch, as the bulky android puckered and kissed several times. “Wh-what are you doing?!” moaned Justice. He could feel a tickling sensation on his anus, but it was hard to describe. It was wet, and it felt so good. It also felt teasing, and he wanted more but not knowing what it was scared him a bit. He could also feel a big object pressing against his thick rear. The object felt smooth and metallic, but it was warm instead of the expected cold. He briefly wondered just what Gemini was applying before a new sensation took over; melting his ability to move or resist. Gemini opened his mouth, during the mouth to anus make out session, to allow his glimmering, blue tongue to squirm out. It swirled over the pillowy rim of the entrance in slow, clockwise motions. Upon completing a rotation, Gemini would return back to kissing. He would smooch the hole’s lips a few more times before releasing his blue tongue in the opposite direction. With the pumped rim now thoroughly wet, the Soulem’s tongue went into a new direction. The blue tongue slowly slid into the gaping hole. It burrowed deep into fleshy tunnel like a worm without a hint of defiance from the muscle ring. It squirmed in every direction before returning into the metallic mouth. Immediately after, the glimmering appendage darted right back into the bodybuilder’s rectum to taste the virgin meat and explore every part of it. Justice laid on the couch in his perfect leg split; moaning in ecstasy. The tickling, pleasurable sensation now traveled inside of himself. He was powerless to stop Gemini’s unseen action, as he could no longer form a coherent thought. The bodybuilder was now mindless; lost in a lust fog with his eyes rolled back into his skull. The senses in his head spun, and he could no longer tell what was up or down. Pleasures of electricity zipped across his spine; twitching every muscle cord in his body. He whimpered, “Gem…” Gemini stood up. His robotic erection strained against the zaffre fundoshi and lined up against Justice’s pumped, wet hole. The Soulem looked down and reached for the drawstring of his mokko fundoshi before stopping midway. The bottle of Crack Addict lube and the Dragon Pearls™ were still in his hands, and his mood ring color switched to grey. His eyes darted about as if he snapped out of his trance and wondering what just happened. Keeping silent, Gemini quickly doused the orange anal balls with the sex lubricant brand. The color of his mood ring during the lubrication changed to yellow, before fading back to dark red upon finishing. Dropping to his knees, the Soulem placed the bottle of lube on the ground. He then grabbed the crystal orb on the end of the white string, and placed it against Justice’s gaping hole. The donut-shaped entrance widened upon the lubricated Dragon Pearl™ pressing against it. As the hole enveloped the orange orb, it accepted it with a soft, wet shlop. Justice grunted in pleasure from being stretched and filled. The gaping orifice then twitched as if it were a mouth hungry for more. Gemini carefully proceed with the second orb; resulting in the same outcome. The bulky Soulem continued to shove the rest of the crystal balls into Justice’s plump opening. As he slid the last ball in, his hand accidentally slipped in. Justice moaned at the sudden fisting, while Gemini playfully rolled his hand about. Smirking, Gemini pulled his wet hand out with a loud plop. All eight orbs were successfully fed into the hungry hole. The only evidence of such a feat was a ring attached to the anal ball’s white string; hanging outside the pillowy rim. Gemini stood up and gazed upon his handiwork. A shiny, orange glint shimmered from within Justice’s virgin chasm. Gemini’s eye wandered about Justice’s twitching body that was still paralyzed by the onslaught of euphoria. His mood ring transitioned to black. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Justice opened his eyes. He felt full and surmised that Gemini successfully inserted the Dragon Pearls™ into him. He then wondered how he ended up on his back, as the ceiling and the top of his pectorals now stared back at him. There was also something clung around his neck, but it did not matter at this moment. The bodybuilder remembered his anus was being tickled and then lost his sense of self and time. As he tried to recall the event, Justice then felt an intense itching on his hole. Trying to sit himself up, Justice spotted Gemini. The husky Soulem stood in front of him; holding a bag of shiny objects. The color on Gemini’s mood ring had now went back to being white. “...How long was I out?” hesitated Justice. Gemini smiled, “Long enough for me to put on the finishing touches of your new outfit.” Justice positioned himself to get up before noticing something else. “Why am I still doing the splits?” he asked. Gemini shrugged, “You looked really sexy doin that, so I split your legs again after I flipped you over. You’re surprisingly flexible for a super buff guy. It wasn’t even a struggle to get your legs to do it.” “Years of gymnastics and yoga,” answered Justice. Gemini flexed a suspicious golden eyebrow. He inquired, “Between all the bodybuilding?” “I had a lot of free time back in Sunnysville,” shrugged Justice, “Anyways, let me see what you did before we go.” Breaking from his split pose, the hulking bodybuilder placed his legs together and stood up from the leather couch. Justice thumped his heavy body back towards his bedroom and could hear a jingling of bells that he could not identify its origin. He could feel the anal balls wiggling inside of him with every thunderous step he took. Justice mentally admitted to himself that although it was weird to feel so much stuffed into his body, it did feel pleasurable and sexy knowing he took it all in. As he approached the bedroom door, he could not ignore another sensation he had been feeling since he woke up. Justice’s hole itched and twitched with an intensity that needed to be scratched. It was greater than its usual urges to be stretched and filled. Justice thought the anal balls were enough but figured it might have increased his endurance to take on more. As he reached down to pet the sexually-hungered mouth, the bodybuilder heard his Soulem friend shout. “Oh! That reminds me,” said Gemini. Dropping the bag of shiny objects, the bulky android ran to the musclebound man and stopped within touching distance. Gemini grabbed the Dragon Pearls’™ ring, hanging out of Justice’s anus on a white string, with one hand and placed the other on the bodybuilder’s wide back. He yanked as if he were trying to start up a lawn mower. Gemini commanded, “I wish you wouldn’t touch your hole until the Dragon Pearls™ are completely out.” Immediately after Gemini said his wish, Justice’s hole began to bulge against an object trying to exit. An orange orb was pulled out of virgin rectum with a wet plop ringing in the air. The bodybuilder gasped at the sudden stretch and partial loss of fullness. Electricity danced in Justice’s body, as the musclebound man was now paralyzed by the pleasurable shock. Before Justice had time to breathe, Gemini yanked the white string again. “I wish that you can’t take off the outfit I put on you until the Dragon Pearls™ are completely out,” added the Soulem. Another crystal anal ball popped out of donut-shaped hole. Justice’s body was assaulted by the multiple sensations but managed to gain enough willpower to do one action. The musclebound man held out his arms and braced himself against the doorframe. In the act of doing so, Justice sacrificed the power in his legs. The bodybuilder sagged to the floor, as his overly-muscular legs could no longer stand. Justice’s rear end poised up upon reaching the tiled ground; held up by the anal leash grasped in Gemini’s fingers. The bodybuilder shuddered, “F-Father...fucker...Wh-what did...you do...that for?” Gemini playfully tugged at the Dragon Pearls™ string. The orbs did not react this time; causing Justice’s round, muscle rump to be lifted higher up. Squatting down, the bulky Soulem slid his white, rubbery index finger halfway into Justice’s pumped hole. He then twirled in finger in a slow clockwise motion; eliciting wimpy moans from the hulking bodybuilder. Gemini licked his lips with his glowing, blue tongue, as his mood ring flashed to dark red. “Just testing it. Apparently, this anime knockoff sex toy is a magical object,” he replied. Justice moaned, “What?!” Even though he should be angry and having many different emotions about this situation, Justice felt himself sinking back into the lust fog. All of his emotions were being drained by Gemini toying with his hole. Justice wanted to fight back, but a bigger part of him wanted to give in. Especially since the itching sensation on his anal lips was finally being relieved a little bit. “Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t look at the booklet in the box. Or at the very least, read the description info on whatever site you bought it from. But I guess when you have all the money to burn, things like that or even the price won’t deter you,” said Gemini. The Soulem rambled, “Basically, the Dragon Pearls™ are a mind control device that isn’t labeled as a magical mind control device, cause those are illegal. Not to mention, they would have been cancelled out by the magical mind control disruptors placed all over the city to prevent mind hacking. But this enchanted sex toy uses lust energy and can only compel a person once they give consent to have the balls put in them. So it would be really hard for a terrorist to use it against the president or something.” “Anyways, once they’re in you, I’m able to give you eight commands, but I have to start it with ‘I wish’. And every time I command you, I have to pull out a ball for it to work. Don’t worry though, I won’t make you do anything rapey like having sex with me. But apparently, the eighth command is permanent, and all the previous ones are temporary depending on how much lust energy was absorbed,” he continued. Justice could not believe what he was hearing. He thought to himself that he really needed to pay better attention to the description info before he bought something on the internet. No wonder that sex toy had all those zeroes. Gemini explained, “So I’m just gonna say in advance that I’m really sorry about all this, and that I don’t have much control over myself. I’m just super horny right now, and I just am now realizing what a sadist me and my dad really are. Sooooo, while my inhibitions are really low, I’m just gonna try to enjoy this as much as possible. Consider it payback for keeping a secret from your best friend that could have explained why we couldn’t have hung out all those times you were heroing before I got my upgrade.” The hulking bodybuilder tried to sigh, but it ended up turning into a moan. Gemini was not going to let it go even after Justice apologized. He then figured it was better to play along with Gemini’s role play, to keep his best friend happy. But when Justice has hit his limit, he will stop pretending to be deceived by the husky Soulem. “Fine. But...why does...my asshole itch...so much?” asked Justice. The Soulem smirked, “Grabbed a bottle of Crack Addict from your room. It’s that irritant lube that makes ya itch wherever you apply it to. Must be driving you pretty wild, huh, bro?” “Yeah...Can I get up now?” said Justice. Ceasing the finger twirl on Justice’s hole, Gemini uncoiled the white string that had wrapped around his finger from the action. The Soulem then slapped his hand down on the bodybuilder’s massive, round glutes; causing the skin and fat underneath it to ripple like a stone tossed into a pond. Justice moaned loudly from the buttocks assault and again from Gemini leaning down to give the donut-shaped hole one final lick with his glowing, blue tongue. He replied, “Now you can.” Justice remained face down for a few more seconds before collecting enough strength in his massive legs to stand up. At full height, his hands remained braced against the doorframe to keep his body straight. The bodybuilder then opened the door and slowly thumped his mammoth-sized body into his bedroom. Other than the anal balls inside of him moving, he could now feel the two orange orbs outside of him slapping against the back of his tree-trunk thighs. It was almost as if he had a tail. Finding the many wall-sized mirrors installed on the wall, he stood in front to gaze at his appearance. He became perplexed at what he saw, and realized he really needed to pay more attention to what he bought. The outfit Gemini made him wear was technically allowed for public dressed, but it was on the same level as Gene’s dating wardrobe. A gold-plated slave collar was now adorned around his neck. It had a short-lengthed chain linked to the front of the collar and drooped down into the cleft of Justice’s colossal pecs. Justice spotted his ankles had also been arrested with gold-plated slave cuffs that had small bells linked onto the sides. Focusing on his crotch, he noticed his hefty family jewels had been fitted through a golden cock ring that had been lined with a stretchy fabric. The shiny, metallic silver spandex housed his sexual fruits and stretched to a skin tightness that every detail of his manliness can be seen. The shiny spandex had the word “IT” printed in large, metallic gold spandex, so that even his crotch spelled out that he was bounded to a submissive, sexual servitude. Justice’s eyes were finally drawn to the last of what Gemini put on him. Shimmering on his belly button and his forehead were body jewelry rhinestones. They were white and sparkled like diamonds. The one on his belly button was the biggest of the two; completely covering the fleshy depression with a circular shape. As for the one applied onto the center of his forehead, it had a diamond-shaped rhombus figure to it. More than likely, these rhinestones were the final pieces, since that is what was most likely in the bag Gemini held when Justice woke up. “Am I supposed to be some sort of sci-fi slave prince?” guessed Justice. Gemini shrugged, “Something like that. I just grabbed what I thought would look sexy on you.” Justice looked in the mirror again to take in his new appearance. There was something exciting about wearing such an outfit, and it was starting to grow on him. It felt as if Gemini had awakened something within him. He always knew he was a power bottom but did being subjugated turn him on? The musclebound bodybuilder felt that Gemini would be the only one he could trust with such a thing for now; even though the Soulem was being a perverted pain at the moment. Though part of Justice relished at how dominant Gemini was over him. The overly-muscular man poked at his forehead rhinestone. “Well...I don’t completely hate it. I’m kinda liking this bindi. And the belly button one is...not bad,” he said, “By the way, how strong is this adhesive? It’s not budging at all.” Gemini stated, “It’s supposed to stay on you for a week, so I’m guessing it’s pretty strong stuff. So unless you want to rip off some epidermis, you probably shouldn’t try. Oh, and it’s waterproof and heat resistant, so a shower ain’t gonna make it come off.” Justice frowned as he played with his metallic spandex-encased bulge. The fabric felt smooth to his fingertips, and he was finding it fun to jostle it in his hand. He then spotted in his wall mirror a wet spot starting to develop on the silver spandex. “Fine. At least I can take off the cuffs and collar when you get those Dragon Pearls™ out of me,” remarked the bodybuilder. Gemini then mentioned, “Oh, yeah. One last thing. I stuck a whole bunch of different-colored rhinestones on your back.” “What?” said Justice. Gemini grinned, “Yeah, I arranged it to look like the Gemini constellation. So that’s my brand on you for right now to show that I own you, heh. But I’m not feeling it right now, so I’ll probably try something later that’s more noticeable and more me.” “Fine. Whatever. Is there anything else you added?” huffed Justice. Gemini pursed his lips, “Hmmmm, nope. That’s it. But let me just do one last thing.” Grabbing the white cord sticking out of Justice’s hole, Gemini yanked it. “I wish that you can’t move unless I’m wearing the Dragon Pearls’™ pull ring or holding onto the string,” he commanded. Another wet plop emanated from Justice’s hole, as another orb popped out. The bodybuilder gasped at the sudden stretch, and its sensation coursing through his musclebound body. It might have been pleasurable to feel and relieved some of the itch, but it also felt humiliating. Justice exclaimed, “Okay, that’s it!” The muscular man reached behind himself and grasped at the sex toy’s cord. Relaxing his bowels, Justice tugged at the Dragon Pearls™. The bodybuilder expected his hole to be stretched multiple times, but nothing happened. He adjusted his grip on one of the orbs and jerked at it again and again. The outcome was the same; not at all budging and locked within his rectum. “The hell? I’m relaxing all my ass muscles. Why isn’t it coming out?!” he said. Gemini smirked, “I did just tell you about a minute ago that you bought enchanted Dragon Pearls™. I even gave you that whole spiel on how it works. Only somebody commanding you can pull them out one at a time.” “I thought you were just roleplaying or something. It’s just too crazy for something like that to exist,” replied Justice. Gemini sighed, “Says the guy that bought an anime knockoff replica sex toy.” Justice said nothing while releasing his hold over the orange orb. The bodybuilder then attempted to touch his itchy anus; his fingers reaching out to the affected area. Justice’s hand stopped in its tracks just as it was about brush against his asshole. It was as if there was some magnetic field that repelled his hand away from his hole. “Dammit,” he muttered. As Justice gave up, the bulky android’s mood ring color shifted to black. Gemini spoke up, “Allow me to demonstrate wish three.” The Soulem relinquished his grasp over the Dragon Pearls™; slapping against the bodybuilder’s overly-muscled thighs. He grinned, as Justice’s body immediately seized like a statue. Gemini’s hands began to wander over Justice’s wide, wing-like lats, as he leaned forward to kiss the musclebound man’s mountainous traps. Even though Justice could not move, he could still hear and feel the wet smooch applied to his skin. The bodybuilder then wondered how the Soulem’s metallic lips were warm, wet, and somehow tickled his skin. As Gemini finished his kiss, he squatted down. The husky Soulem moved himself in front of Justice and looked straight at his friend’s metallic spandex bulge. Extending his glowing, blue tongue, Gemini licked at the bulge’s wet spot that now had a raindrop-sized manly residue leaking through the shiny, silver bulge. “Mmmmm. Sweet. Just like you,” flirted Gemini. Justice felt his cheeks burn. He was not sure if it was from either being flustered at the compliment or being humiliated at his paralysis. “...Thanks...can we go now?” he replied. Gemini sneered, “Don’t want to have sexy times with your best friend?” As the Soulem stood up, he dragged his glimmering tongue over the silver bulge. It then slid across the cobblestone abs and into the crevice of Justice’s mighty pectorals. All evidence of such an act was a trail of the Soulem’s saliva on the hulking bodybuilder’s skin and the newly polished navel jewelry; shimmering in the bedroom light. Gemini then changed his attention to the watermelon-sized pecshelf. He softly bit onto Justice’s left pec multiple times, as his hand molested the other. Chocolate pec meat spilled through the white, rubbery fingers of the hard grip. Justice could only moan at the titillating action and groaned even louder once Gemini switched to the bodybuilder’s nipples. Justice gritted his teeth. It was very hot but also weird to watch his friend make love to his chest. He wanted to ask when Gemini started to have sexual attractions to him, but there was something else he needed to say. Justice could not let himself get lost in the erotic euphoria and excitement from being dominated. The bodybuilder gathered his willpower and thought of the most unsexy thing he could think of. Pickle peanut butter sandwich. “I think that’s why it seems awkward to me. You’re my best friend, and...I dunno...I still feel bad about what happened, and I need to show you the real me. Please?,” he answered. Gemini instantly ceased his erotic activity upon hearing his best friend. He looked up at Justice’s eyes, while the color of his mood ring changed to white. The Soulem frowned, “Sorry. You’re right. I’m getting so easily sidetracked right now, but...I do want you to show me more than anything, dude. I want to understand.” Next Chapter

Two muscle bound jocks are in the gym working out, both looking pumped from a hour session One who's curling a heavy dumbbell in one arm looks at his partner who is doing push ups "Hey bro, your position is wrong" he said to his bro on the floor, "Oh my bad, thanks" he repositions himself and continues his push ups. he looks up while working and say to the other bro " hey, nice pump you got going there" he complemented watching him curl the dumbbell, he replied " thanks bro you too" and the both of them continued their workout. The end. Happy april 1st

All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1zNSigi8v1eclG3AQv803GITT-d8kviEnOkwfLV47aXQ) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1O52F8UJS70fDmrK2gYawUXBtklu8IEUwpOdaOZrPuoM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN Chapter 15: Spells and Muscles Days past since the date, and Marvelous Man was feeling optimistic about his relationship with Gene. Whenever there was free time after investigating supernatural occurrences or daily patrol, the two would hang out. The choice of activities were aggressively engaging with little time to talk: usually dancing at clubs or sparring in the D.A.B. basement floor’s training room. It was patrol time during the afternoon hour, and the musclebound superhero was chatting away at his cell phone. His bunny partner, Gene, walked next to him during the conversation. Although the Totochtin prince was looking away, there was a good chance Gene could hear the entire conversation with his white-furred rabbit ears. Marvelous Man grinned, “Yeah, we gotta watch the season finale together! I can’t wait for you to get back. When is that, by the way?” A familiar electronic voice echoed from the superhero’s phone. “Some time today. They’re doing last minute checkups to make sure my tuneup is alright. But I really don’t think they need to record it all. Buncha perverts,” answered Gemini. The Soulem paused for a moment. Gemini spoke up, “So whatcha doin?” “Just...walking around,” hesitated Marvelous Man. While it was not a lie, the answer left a bitter taste in Marvelous Man’s mouth. He never explained to Gemini that Justice Starr lived a double life as Marvelous Man. Every opportunity that seemed like the right time to admit such an important detail, he would reason himself as to why he should not. After all, he signed that agreement with the Department of Metahuman Registration that they did not have permission to publicly disclose his real identity. He signed it to protect his loved ones...who are gods… Gemini replied, “Cool. Maybe you could pick me up some ice cream for when we meet up again. Dunno what flavor, I’m not really picky at the moment.” Marvelous Man flexed his eyebrow in confusion. “Can you even eat ice cream? I don’t remember you having a mouth,” he questioned. Gemini hesitated, “Uhh...I’m just feeling a craving. You know how I’ve got my dad’s personality and subconscious crammed into me. It’ll be fine...I’ll just watch you eat it, and, wow, that sounded so creepy when I said that out loud…” “It’s okay. Lots of people have that voyeur fetish, but it’s usually with watching a cute Asian girl eating stuff,” smiled Marvelous Man. Gemini exclaimed, “HEY! I’m the one that’s supposed to be witty, not you!” “I guess you’re rubbing off on me then,” shrugged Marvelous Man. Gemini huffed, “Yeah, whatever. I’ll text you later when I’m out. See ya later, dude.” “Okay. Bye,” nodded Marvelous Man. Ending the call, the muscle demigod placed his smartphone back into his pocket. Marvelous Man continued to smile and sighed with content, while his partner looked up to him. Gene spoke up, “A close friend of yours?” “Yeah. He was one of the first friends I made when I moved here. Uh, right after I met you, I mean,” nodded Marvelous Man. Gene smiled, “There is no need to be the nervous, Marvelous Man. I am not one to easily incite jealousy. It is good to have the other friends. Especially the ones that can put the gleam in your eye.” Marvelous Man looked down at his work partner and opened his mouth with intention to complement. The ground rumbled with low vibrations, while the sound of explosions can screaming can be heard in the distance. A recognizable tingle at the back of his mind could be felt; the blue D.A.B. patch on his black jacket’s shoulder had been activated. With the patch now acting as a magical psychic communicator, he could hear his field operator, Fairuza, speak directly into his head. “Lightfoot, Marvelous Man, please respond! This is a high alert command from the D.A.B. Headquarters!” called Fairuza. Gene crossed his arms and projected his thoughts. The rabbit superhero responded, “I can hear you, Fairuza. What is the situation?” “An unknown supervillain has appeared in Trevorstone Park a few blocks away from your position. He appears to be armed with a shield and an oddly-shaped sword. Subject seems to be at least a C-Rank due to signs of super strength. He’s been seen attacking and wounding civilians, but no confirmed casualties,” reported Fairuza. Gene nodded, “Understood. Does your magic book know the name of the supervillain?” The bunny demigod immediately looked up at Marvelous Man. “Let us make haste, Marvelous Man,” he said. Without saying a word, Marvelous Man nodded and took off running with his partner. The Totochtin prince led the charge, as they dashed towards the source of the panic and destruction. With the commotion in earshot, it would take the team minutes to arrive. Fairuza spoke up, “I've just about finished analyzing them, and...wha-that just doesn’t make sense! I’m checking a few more times to make sure, but...the identity and story of our supervillain is the ancient Sumerian royal hero, Gilgamesh. He’s a demigod king from thousands of years ago...” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Arriving at the Trevorstone Park entrance, Gene continued his sprint. The rabbit superhero zigzagged through the trees; leading to what Marvelous Man guessed was the causation of emotional distress. The running came to its final end when Gene led his partner towards a clearing. Marvelous Man gasped at his surroundings. The grassy plains with concrete sidewalk was littered with civilians and law enforcers lying on the ground. They were splayed about; bleeding, broken, and some barely conscious. In the center of the disaster stood a man almost as big and muscular as Marvelous Man himself. His long, black hair was kept braided; as well as the beard that surrounded his square face. The man known as Gilgamesh had dark bronze skin with a carpet of black hair matting all over his muscular body. His muscles had an impressiveness much different from Marvelous Man. They were lean and hard that exuded a lifetime of hard labor and purpose. Whereas Marvelous Man’s appeared inflated from a lifetime of dedication to exercise as a means of showing off power and sex appeal. Gilgamesh’s stomach was the only part of him that appeared inflated; stuffed with so much muscle that he had a permanent bloated appearance. Adorned on his hard body was golden jewelry, and on his head was a golden circlet. Every part of him sparkled with golden light that commanded one to awe at his muscles and nobility. The golden jewelry never covered but curved around his angular muscles, and his large golden necklace strewn over his wide shoulders lightly bounced from his flexing pectorals. The Sumerian king appeared to be nearly naked if one were to not notice the jewelry serving as his only means of clothing. As for the covering of his manhood, he wore a lewdly-designed codpiece shaped like a bull’s head and forged with gold plating. It was only big enough to hold what appeared to be his immense package, and barely covered his trimmed pubic bush. And the only thing tying the codpiece to his body was a golden chain; bedecked with glittering gems. It seemed as if he used a glamorous necklace to serve as the codpiece’s chain and thong. Gilgamesh appeared to have done everything he possibly could to show off his regality, godhood, and sexual allure. Gilgamesh turned to the superheroes and smiled. “Ah, the Totochtin and the star child. It has been a while, since we last fought,” he greeted. Gene and Marvelous Man glanced at each other for a second before looking back at Gilgamesh. The only person to ever call them that was the Skeleton Lord. Marvelous Man did not dare move to assist the injured; not unless he wanted the dangerous foe to attack with his back turned. Gene spoke, “My apologies, but I do not believe we have met.” “Uh, yeah...And are you Gilgamesh, the royal hero?” inquired Marvelous Man. Gilgamesh frowned, as he became silent. In that moment, his eyes flooded with pride, sadness, and then regret. The light in his eyes died immediately after flashing through his emotions. He replied, “...I have not been called either in a long time. Neither a king, nor a hero anymore...Aye, I am Gilgamesh. And I fight for the Skeleton Lord.” Marvelous Man’s stomach felt it had been stabbed after hearing those words. The Skeleton Lord has resurfaced but has sent a powerful demigod lackey in his stead. Thankfully, he had Gene to outnumber their foe. “Now come, heroes. Allow me to instill fear into you, so the Skeleton Lord may feast on it,” bellowed Gilgamesh. Brandishing his weapons for the superheroes to see, Marvelous Man recognized the familiar armaments. The Sumerian held a circular war shield welded with bumps and intricate designs, and a scythe sword now glittering with blood on it. It was the weapons the Skeleton Lord used when the villain called... Gilgamesh was not just any lackey. He was one of the Skeleton Lord’s guardians. Gene ordered, “Marvelous Man, you must heal the injured. I will fight the guardian.” It seemed that Gene had also understood how dangerous their enemy truly was upon seeing Gilgamesh’s weapons. “R-roger!” nodded Marvelous Man. As Gene charged towards the opponent at full speed, Marvelous Man evaluated the wounded lot. There were too many to heal one at a time before any of them became deceased, and they were scattered all over the place. The most obvious choice would have to be supercharging his light and channeling it through the ground in order to do one massive heal. The musclebound superhero reached into his pocket and pulled out his golden harmonica, Duskbringer. Applying it to his lips, he began to play an energetic song filled with many bouncy notes. Marvelous Man could feel his light feeding on the music; slowly growing to the point of supercharge. Squatting down like a sumo wrestler, Gilgamesh placed the knuckles of his sword-wielding hand on top of the grass. He immediately raised his tight, muscular buttocks high into the air; the jeweled chain thong pressing into his skin even deeper. His leg muscles tightened for a moment before launching Gilgamesh’s fuzzy body forward. The ground beneath him crumbled upon his liftoff; leaving behind a small crater with dirt and grass being flung into the air. He flew at a speed that was beyond faster than Gene's. Gilgamesh then stretched out the arm that held his scythe sword. Gene’s eyes widened at Gilgamesh’s explosive agility, and the acknowledgement of what he is incapable of reacting in time for. Gilgamesh’s outstretched arm slammed into Gene’s chest; knocking the air out of Gene’s lungs. Upon being hit by Gilgamesh’s clothesline attack, Gene’s legs lost their footing to stabilize against the charge. The Totochtin prince spun into the air, while Gilgamesh continued his uninterrupted velocity towards Marvelous Man. As Gene landed back first onto the ground, the Skeleton Lord guardian slammed his arm into Marvelous Man for another clothesline attack. As a result of the bodybuilder superhero’s tall stature, the flying attack impacted against Marvelous Man’s abdomen. Gilgamesh’s arm had Marvelous Man hooked onto him; carrying the muscle demigod until the golden guardian crashed into a tree. The tree cracked from the massive muscle collision. Splintering into two, the broken top half landed in between the fallen enemies. Gilgamesh lost grip over his weapons, causing them to clatter onto Marvelous Man’s side during the fall. Activating his flight power, Marvelous Man immediately lifted himself off the ground to face his enemy. The golden guardian slowly stood up as he laughed. It greatly annoyed the muscle demigod that his foe would be laughing from causing great harm and destruction. Gilgamesh grinned, “I learned that trick from you, star child. I had never considered the strength in my legs to push myself at speeds my foes cannot even predict. But I suppose I need to practice my landing first before I challenge beings greater than you.” Marvelous Man flew forward, as he thrusted an overhead punch with all his might. Still smiling, Gilgamesh caught the fist with quick ease. The air shook with immense vibration as the impact of a sonic boom burst between the clashing hands. Marvelous Man watched the vibrating air tussle Gilgamesh’s hairs. Even with all his strength, it was not enough to cause this Sumerian demigod of strength to flinch. He was fighting a force that was leagues beyond his own strength. Momentarily lifting up Marvelous Man into the air, Gilgamesh turned away and slammed the bodybuilder superhero into the ground in front of him. Marvelous Man’s breath choked out of him, from the front of his body smashed against the dirt. The Sumerian demigod still had Marvelous Man’s fist in his grasp. “I was ordered to do no harm to the Totochtin. Well, nothing too damaging that wouldn’t allow him to perform,” spoke Gilgamesh, “But you? I can crush.” Immense pain exploded in Marvelous Man’s hand, as he could hear the crushing of bones vibrate into his eardrums. He screamed in high-pitched anguish and nearly blacked out from the ghastly pain. Gilgamesh released his broken hand; mangled into disfiguration. Turning away from the broken hero, Gilgamesh walked towards his fallen weapons. The golden guardian bragged, “You might be wondering why the Totochtin is so special. Why he gets the special treatment from the Skeleton Lord and not you. It’s cause he can produce countless amounts of lust energy. Something the Skeleton Lord overlooked until now. And being a man of sexual prowess, it will be up to me to milk it, so the Skeleton Lord can focus on other things. Now while I usually prefer the company of women, a hole is still a hole.” Marvelous Man could hear every word Gilgamesh said; despite being in blinding pain. He needed to stop this monster before he harmed more people. Before he hurted Gene… He had no choice. Marvelous Man needed to use the poison. It did not matter if using that dark power would hurt himself. He was already in enough pain, and the bigger regret would be not using it to save someone he loves. Marvelous Man commanded the blackness within him to rise and feed on his agony and the pain of being useless to help others. He wanted to inflict this misery onto his foe. Marvelous Man’s other unbroken hand began to glow with a whisping, dark aura. All he had to do now was touch Gilgamesh, and reactivate every damage the Sumerian ever took in his life all at once. “Stand down, Marvelous Man. Bossman and I have this,” a familiar voice whispered. There was only one person who addressed the Director with such vocabulary and spoke in a deep, Russian accent. The musclebound superhero truly wished he was not hallucinating from the extreme pain. Marvelous Man wheezed, “Puzzles?” A furry imp in a cobalt business suit walked past the fallen hero. He turned to look down at Marvelous Man with his crystal blue eyes and gave a gleaming smile. Marvelous Man shivered at the sight; to see something so unusual as seeing Puzzles smile and one that looked like a cheshire cat grin. “Da,” said Puzzles. As Gilgamesh finished retrieving his close-combat arms, Puzzles began to disintegrate into smoke. Puzzles’ smoke form floated away right, as the golden guardian turned to face Marvelous Man. Gilgamesh’s face gave no evidence of ever spotting Puzzles, while walking back to the beaten hero. Putting his trust into the smoke imp, Marvelous Man commanded his whisping poison to deactivate. Gilgamesh smirked, “I will say that I respect you. You are so much weaker than the Totochtin, but you’re very resourceful. You’ve managed to find ways to compensate for what you lack. And that light you cast when you play your metal ocarina really irks the Skeleton Lord. It really forces him to use his more powerful attacks, since your light is bright enough to destroy his dark spells. So I commend you for being able to corner the Skeleton Lord so much.” A southern, gentlemanly-like voice called out to the Sumerian demigod. “Pardon me, evildoer. But you wouldn’t happen to be Gilgamesh, would ya?” he drawled. Gilgamesh looked towards his left. Standing next to the broken tree stump was Director Skye and Puzzles. The golden guardian replied, “Aye. That is me. And who are you?" “He is Director Douglas Skye. Head of the North American Demon Authority Bureau. Master Witch of the Defense Arts," spoke up Puzzles, "And I am his familiar, Puzzles. But I will not be attacking you today.” Director Skye looked down at the smoke imp. “Why’s that?” he asked. Puzzles stared back up at his master. The smoke imp shrugged, “Fighting an ancient hero is part of your imposs-I mean, improbable bucket list, Boss. I’m sure you’d want to try to fight him with your own strength to see who’s stronger. But I’ll still help support you, boss. Just no sneaky attacks from me. Besides, you’ve been cooped up in your office for so long. You need to blow off some steam.” “I really do...Are you sure you want me to take him on my own?” said the Director. Puzzles scoffed, “Unless you want me to join in, Boss. But all that hairy musclehead can do is hit really hard, so there’s nothing to worry about. And if I had to fight him as well, then it would be overkill.” Gilgamesh bursted out laughing upon hearing Puzzles’ boasts. “You make such amusing insults, creature. But your master is no match for me. What good is his magic if his spells focus only on defense?” he said. The Director smirked, “Would you like for me to educate you?” The golden guardian switched into his battle stance. He held his sword out; pointed at Director Skye. “By all means, witch. Enlighten me,” laughed Gilgamesh. The Director slowly pulled off his cobalt business suit’s jacket. Grabbing it by the collar, Director Skye tossed his jacket into the air with a light amount of effort. The jacket climbed in the air for a second before reaching its peak altitude. As the cobalt suit jacket hit its point of incline, the Director raised his hands into the air and began to gesture in a circular motion. His hands glowed with the movements, while a magical circle filled with sigils and runic symbols appeared below the jacket. Upon the jacket’s descent and passing through Director Skye’s magical seal, its motion came nearly to a halt. It was still falling, but it looked like someone played its action on slow motion. The Director stopped his gesturing and hand glowing once he saw his completed spell. Looking back at his opponent, he pointed up at the jacket falling in slow motion. He declared, “Before my jacket hits the ground, I shall defeat you. I will be very embarrassed if I don’t, because I just had that dry cleaned.” Director Doug then held out his hand; as if he were grabbing something. A runic symbol, glowing with a bluish florescence, appeared on his palm. Immediately after it emerged, the rune stretched itself. It reformed itself into a long, tube shape that continued to glow blue. Upon reaching a certain length, Director Skye grabbed the tube. The magical light instantaneously shattered like glass and left behind a silver baton in the master witch's grasp. “I think you’ll need something sharper than that thin club to beat me, witch” laughed Gilgamesh. The Director smirked, “Oh, this isn’t a club. It’s my broom.” “I see,” smiled Gilgamesh, “And do you plan to defeat me by dusting the dirt off my codpiece? Director Skye fired back, “Actually, I was planning to stick it up your ass and sweep the floor with it.” “Decapitating you will be most gayful,” said the golden guardian. Leaping forward, Gilgamesh raised his scythe sword for downward slash attack. The Director calmly stood still; smiling without a care. The Director exclaimed, “Bring it, fatherfucker. HECATE!!!” Gilgamesh brought down his sword at the master witch, as he landed. At the moment where Gilgamesh’s blade cleaved through the Director, it instead split in half. The blade looked as if it were caught in a illusionary prism that caused one side of the blade to stick out to the left and the other blade pointing right. It continued its downward swing without even grazing the Director’s fabric. Flabbergasted, the golden guardian held his weapon up to his face and stared at his weapon. The blades were no longer two and had returned to its original form of being a single, straightforward blade. “What madness?!” said the Sumerian demigod. Director Doug explained, “That’s a space fracture spell. Causes a small rift for objects to be split in two. Great for dodging vertical attacks and projectiles. But I suggest you never do it with horizontal or diagonal attacks. Oh, and try not to use it on people. Big objects tend to get permanently cleaved in half. And it's as messy as it sounds.” >>>>>>>>> As Marvelous Man watched Director Skye in amazement at the master witch’s magical performance, he could feel Fairuza communicating to his mind. “Marvelous Man, are you there? Do you read me, Marvelous Man?” called Fairuza. Marvelous Man thought back, “I’m here, Fairuza.” “What happened? You were screaming before the Director showed up,” questioned Fairuza. Marvelous Man answered, “...Gilgamesh broke my hand. I can’t move it at all, and I’m in a lot of pain.” “We’ll have it looked at when the Director finishes up. In the meantime, you need to get up. The paramedics can’t get close until the supervillain is subdued. And those innocent people are dying, Marvelous Man, and you’re the only one that can save them,” Fairuza reminded. Marvelous Man acknowledged, “...okay. I’ll try to...supercharge the area to heal them all at once.” Using his other unbroken hand to steady himself, Marvelous Man attempted to push himself up. The ache in his body from being smashed into ground was slowly dissipating, but it still felt unbearable to the musclebound superhero. He groaned from the pain, but he needed to get up. Lives were depending on him, and superheroes must answer the call of duty above their own needs. Marvelous Man continued to remind himself about his sense of duty as a superhero as motivation. Slowly lurching up, the muscle demigod managed to upright himself and sit on top of his legs in a seiza position. Marvelous Man quickly scanned the area around himself before spotting his harmonica. Duskbringer laid next to the broken top-half of the tree, but was out of the muscle demigod's reach. “Can you still play your harmonica with just one working hand?” asked Fairuza. Marvelous Man sighed, “I can, but I don’t have to play it to supercharge my healing. I just need to make art. Will Director Skye be alright?” “He’ll be fine. He’s a Rank-A superhero, so don’t worry about him. Just focus on helping the injured,” replied Fairuza. Marvelous Man nodded, “Right. Sorry.” Taking a breath, Marvelous Man cleared his throat. He began to softly hum before vocalizing into a gregorian-like chant. The light within him began to feed on his music. >>>>>>>> Gilgamesh swung his scythe sword in a horizontal strike in an attempt to hit the Director. The Director made no attempt to cast a spell, while Gilgamesh’s blade sliced through the air. Upon contact with Director Skye’s body, the scythe sword cleaved through. The Director’s body severed in half from the slash, but not a drop of blood escaped from the master witch’s bisected anatomy. The Director continued to smile even after experiencing such devastating damage. Director Douglas’ detached top half floated for a second before his whole body exploded into smoke. The smokescreen dispersed into a wide spread in an effort to stunt Gilgamesh’s perception. Unbeknownst to the golden guardian, the smoke had masked his eyes from seeing a magical seal glowing beneath himself. Sliding across the ground as if it were an ice rink, the Director silently glided from behind Gilgamesh. He then tossed his baton-like broom into the air, causing it to twirl. Director Skye caught the other end of his silver broom and held it like a baseball bat. The Director leaned forward and swung at the back of Gilgamesh’s right knee. When the precisioned blow connected to the joint, it made a pinging noise one would hear when struck with a metal baseball bat. The Sumerian demigod’s powerful stature immediately crumbled, as he fell onto his left knee. Upon this happening, his right leg bent but kept anchored in place to keep Gilgamesh’s back straight. Like a figure skater continuing their flow of motion, Director Skye used the momentum of his strike to twirl. He spun in a counterclockwise motion to a complete revolution and struck with his broom again. The blunt weapon reverberated with another ping, as it battered the left side of Gilgamesh’s jaw. With the gold guardian’s balance upset once again, his right foot lost its grip on the ground as if it were standing on ice. As Gilgamesh slipped and landed with his back onto the dirt, the Director disappeared into the smokescreen upon finishing his blitzkrieg. “Kinetic friction nullifier spell. Makes any surface slippery. Although now that I am saying it all out loud, magic sure has gotten more sciency,” lectured the Director. Puzzles called out, “And what you just hit was my Shado-I mean, Smoke Clones. I can conjure semi-solid illusions with my smoke.” The Sumerian demigod attempted to stand back up; gritting his teeth in the process. As the magical circle beneath Gilgamesh’s feet and the smokescreen disappeared, he spotted something else. The ground was being enchanted with light, and it was spreading. Looking for the source, Gilgamesh pinpointed it to Marvelous Man; sitting in seiza position with eyes closed and singing in a gregorian-like chant. Copying Marvelous Man’s signature move, Gilgamesh squatted down in a sumo stance with his glutes hefted in the air. He flexed his leg muscles to quickly charge power for another launch. “POSEI MAGUM!” shouted the Director. Gilgamesh looked to his left and saw a shimmering spectacle shooting straight at him. With the shiny object in such close distance, the golden guardian had no time to react. The casted spell instantly enveloped him upon contact; forming a giant bubble around the crouching Sumerian demigod. Running toward the bubble-encased Gilgamesh, Director Skye held his broom up to his face. He then placed an open palm next to his other hand gripping the silver broom. As his hands glowed with magical energy, he glided his open palm across the baton-like broom’s length. He then slid his palm beyond the broom’s shaft; resulting in another enchanted display. The short-lengthed broom briefly flared with magical light, as it immediately extended itself. The broom’s glowing ended abruptly upon reaching a vast pole length that is suitable for one to use as a bo staff or a supposed broom. The Director jumped; quickly maneuvering his newly-formed broom beneath his groin at an upward angle. The back end of his broom bursted with a pinkish fire; accelerating Director Doug beyond his running speed and gaining a small amount of altitude. Twisting his body into a counterclockwise spin, the Director changed his grip and pulled the broom from under himself. As the boosting flame on his broom extinguished, Director Skye came to a full rotation. The Director gripped his broom like it was a baseball bat, while descending back towards the ground. Upon landing steps away from Gilgamesh, Director Doug skidded towards the crouched man. Dirt flew into the air, as the crouching man was now within the master witch’s swinging distance. The Director then swung with an underhanded strike; hitting the bubble Gilgamesh was trapped in. The bubble instantly bounced high into the air from the blunt attack; regardless of Gilgamesh’s weight in muscle mass and golden jewelry. As the bubble-encased Gilgamesh flew into the sky, the Director placed his broom underneath himself. A mass of smoke followed behind Director Doug’s back; reforming into Puzzles upon landing on top of the broom. The silver broom blasted off with its pink fire blazing at full power. Jetting off into the upper atmosphere, Director Skye directed his magical broom to follow the bubbled Gilgamesh flinging through the air. The Director and his familiar caught up to the bubble within seconds. Raising his hand up, it began to glow while gesturing a spell. A translucent veil with a purple hue appeared in front of the broom. It umbrellaed outward; shielding the Director from incoming winds. And although the barrier was made of magic, its entirety was structured with a blockade of hexagons that interlocked together like a honeycomb. Charging into the enchanted bubble, the flimsy structure popped rather than bouncing again. Director Doug continued his flight; ramming into Gilgamesh’s abdomen. The silver broom did not expectedly penetrate the golden guardian's skin, as the honeycomb-shaped magic positioned itself in front of the pole. With the broom pushing speeds in the hundreds and the enchanted veil too wide to grip or reach around to grab the master witch, Gilgamesh remained pinned onto the magical barrier in a spread eagle position. The Sumerian demigod’s weapons were nowhere to be seen on the pinned man; knocked out of his hold by the sudden blow. The Director continued to calmly smile, as he changed his broom’s direction to accelerate upwards. The master witch flew higher into the troposphere; breaking through the clouds and entering the stratosphere. All the while, Gilgamesh could only scowl at Director Skye with his eyes. His face unable to express as it remained smooshed against the veil. While ice crystals began forming onto the beehive-like barrier, Gilgamesh’s body smoked from the evaporating crystals melting from his body heat. The broom’s pink flame extinguished itself; preventing the three from climbing any higher heights. Loosening his grip, Director Doug slid down his silver broom just as Puzzles dissipated into his smoke form. The Director then reestablished his hold once again before completely falling off his enchanted flying device; clasping onto the broom’s end. Director Skye held out his left hand and gestured a spell. He soon ended his motioning incantation by waving upwards in a clockwise motion. A small hexagonal barrier appeared on the Director’s right side. Unlike the one he used to pin Gilgamesh beneath with, it was an individual hexagon rather than a combination. More magical hexagons emerged into existence on Director Doug’s left side. They materialized above each other; creating a pathway in a clockwise motion until reaching high above Gilgamesh. The Director planted his feet against the vertically-angled hexagon on his right side. Briefly squatting against the magical shape, he pushed off. The broom swung with his motion, as Director Skye landed his foot against the floating pathway he conjured. Continuing his movement without hesitation, he began to run upwards against the panes of hexagonal pieces. The end of the Director’s broom pinning Gilgamesh with the magical shield rotated until he was positioned underneath the silver broomstick. Reaching the end of his improvised path, Director Skye had situated himself into a handstand position while pushed himself on top of his own broom. The small cloud of smoke, surrounding the middle of the staff during the Director’s acrobat, shot up towards the master witch. As the smoke being darted upwards, it reformed back into Puzzles. Both the smoke imp and Director Doug held out their hands to each other in one synchronized action; grasping each other upon contact. With the help of his own projected velocity, Puzzles pulled his master up with little effort. The Director bent his legs down, as his upper body was lifted by his familiar. No longer upside down in that moment, Director Skye released his grip from Puzzles' tiny hand. The Director landed feet first on the top of his broom with cat-like grace. As he peered out to the sky in front of him, Puzzles gently landed on his shoulder. With nothing to keep them afloat, the three began to descend back down towards the clouds. Puzzles spoke, “And what floor would you like to get off on, Boss?” “Ground floor,” replied Director Skye. As Puzzles pretended to push an imaginary elevator button, Director Doug gestured another spell. His hands glowed, while smashing his fist against his open palm. An explosion of ice erupted from all over the Director’s body. Large obelisks made of ice extended outwards, with Director Skye, Puzzles, and the broom encased in the freeze flash. Gilgamesh’s eyes bulged. The golden guardian raised his fists and slammed it back down onto the honeycomb-patterned barrier in an attempt to shatter it. The veil glowed from the hits, but it did not break. He continued the vain attempt, as their descending speed rapidly accelerated with each passing second. Upon reaching terminal velocity within seconds, the glowing ground drew close at speeds too fast to see any details. The three crashed into the light-enchanted earth; resulting in an explosion akin to a bomb and vibrating the entire park that even shook Marvelous Man’s posture. Smoke from the impact plumed into the air, and the only thing that could be seen of the crash site to an outside eye was a crater spanning a wide circumference. The smoke debris briefly parted; revealing Puzzles leading his master out of the crater’s wreckage. The two watched their step, so none of them could accidentally walk on the shards of ice littered within the crater. As the two exited the newly-made hole, the smoke closed into the gap they were denied of occupying. Director Doug held onto his broom, as both of them looked down at the smoking crater. Puzzles sighed, “He’s still alive, Boss.” “I suppose he still would. Marvelous Man is still healing the injured folks, so I must apply a gentle touch to this matter,” huffed Director Skye, “Irregardless, I am having fun.” Puzzles frowned, “That’s not a real word, Boss.” “And you’re not Russian, yet you still talk with that accent,” mused the Director. Noises began to stir within the hole. The sound of Gilgamesh’s footsteps crunched amongst the rubble, as the cloud of dust dissipated to reveal the Sumerian demigod standing up straight. Director Skye shouted, “I gotta say, you got a hell of a chin there! I’m gonna have to mark you as a Rank B then.” “Hmph, that star child used the same tactic against the Skeleton Lord. It’s not impressive to use your weight to crush your enemies. But I will admit something, witch, that really frightened me. To fall out of the sky like that. And it really hurt,” remarked Gilgamesh. Walking out of the rubble, the golden guardian no longer appeared amused. His hairy body was covered in dirt and bruises, but did not appear to have any serious damage on his muscular frame. Director Doug smiled, “Good. Now to continue with your education, I used a bubble spell that allows one to be bounced away upon any blunt contact; regardless of one’s weight inside the bubble.” “After that, I pinned you on a beehive barrier spell. And fun fact about that spell, you can summon the pieces individually rather than a whole set. So you could use it as a platform or flip it onto its side and use it as a projectile. But I think I made a good choice, since your body seems to have a high level of...imperviency,” he continued. The Director dragged on, “And finally, I used a basic ice encasement spell. We were so high up, I could draw in so much more moisture than is needed to make that spell. I made it a hella big, so it would be really heavy in the hopes of crushing you. Sadly, that did not work. But, my, was it spectacular.” Gilgamesh’s face became neutral upon hearing Director Skye’s lecture. There was a small pause after the Director finished, that he smirked for a second before giggling. The giggle then transformed to a bellowing laugh. “You most certainly enlightened me on the usefulness of defense magic, witch!” guffawed the Sumerian demigod, “Have you anything left to say before I pound you to death with my bare hands? I would decapitate you, but I seem to have lost my weapons while being adrift in the sky.” Director Skye held up his index finger. “Just one,” he replied. The Director looked down at his smoke imp. He requested, “Puzzles, would you please prepare the Cuban Room for our guest? We need to wrap this up, and I am parching for some sweet tea.” Puzzles looked up at his master, as he reached inside of his business suit’s jacket. “Certainly, Boss,” he smiled. The smoke imp then retrieved a large cigar and a silver lighter from his cobalt jacket. Flipping the lid off of the lighter, it ignited a small, red flame. Puzzles quickly lit the dark brown cigar, before putting the tobacco product in his mouth. He then proceeded to take a deep inhale, as he snuffed the lighter's flame and placed it back into his pocket. Director Doug curtly bowed, “Now you may try pulverizing me.” Gilgamesh’s eyes glinted with acknowledgement of what the battle’s outcome will be. He nodded before charging forward. The golden guardian sprinted as fast as he could while screaming out his battle cry. Every step he took vibrated a heavy thud, as he drew closer. Within a few steps of Gilgamesh reaching the master witch, Puzzles blew out the cigar exhaust he had been dragging. The dark gray smoke stretched itself outward like a wall; bordering between the golden guardian and the heroes. Without a sign of hesitation, Gilgamesh charged into the smoke. The cigar fog enveloped the Sumerian demigod and immediately transformed. The smoke reshaped itself into an interior location. Gilgamesh now stood inside a wooden hallway with an antique Victorian design. The walls were bare of any windows and were instead draped with red curtains. The golden guardian’s mouth was agape in surprise, as he looked at both sides of the hallway. On his left was a dead end with a tall, wooden grandfather clock stationed where a doorway should be. The clock’s ticks and tocks echoed throughout the hallway; mixing with another noise that sounded like wood crackling in a fire. On the right side of the hallway was the source of the fire crackling sound. A lit hearth, at the end of the hallway’s right side, radiated the Victorian hallway with warmth and yellowish light. With his face changing from shock to curiousity, Gilgamesh thumped towards the grandfather clock. He stood in front of it and studied it closely. The wooden clock had a simple design with grooves and an etching of a pine cone on its top frame. Inside of it, its golden pendulum swung in syncro with the clock’s ticks. “Welcome to the Cuban Room,” drawled the Director. Gilgamesh instantly reacted to the Southern gentlemanly voice; turning around to face the master witch. At the end other end of the wooden hallway, a red armchair now existed in front of the fireplace. The armchair faced the hearth and had a man sitting in it. The man seen only from behind had auburn hair like Director Skye. His pale, white hand rested on the chair’s arms and held the lit cigar Puzzles had just smoked. The Sumerian demigod muttered, “Is this pathetic illusion supposed to stop me?” Gilgamesh slammed his fist against the wall. Rather than exploding into smoke, the wall resisted the golden guardian’s strike. “That it is. I did tell you that I’m a Master Witch of the Defense Arts, didn’t I?” said the Director. Gilgamesh frowned, “That was the familiar who said it. And you are not the witch either.” The supposed Director Doug said nothing, as he brought the cigar to his face. Seconds pass by until a loud exhale resounded from his location. A long plume of cigar smoke blew into the air above the alleged master witch, as he rested his cigar hand back onto the red chair’s arm. “Does it matter?” he replied, “You still have to beat me to get out of here. So go on. Pulverize me.” The golden guardian slowly stepped forward; as if expecting more tricks. He kept walking towards the other end of the red-curtained hallway, when his face then contorted in confusion. As he reach the middle of the wooden hallway, his progress seemed to have come to a halt. He was walking, but he was not moving any closer to his destination. Gilgamesh changed his motion into a sprint, but the result was the same. Looking down, the Sumerian demigod could see the floor beneath himself moving like a treadmill. The floor shifted in the opposite direction Gilgamesh was trying to go and increased its speed when Gilgamesh did so. “I’m waiting,” teased the auburn-haired man. Gilgamesh gritted his teeth, as he kept trying to push forward with no foreseeable result. The supposed Director Skye laughed; echoing throughout the wooden hallway that drowned out the grandfather clock’s ticking sound. Sections of the hallways in front of the golden guardian began to rotate like an inverse rubix cube. Walls had been rotated into floors and ceilings and vice versa. At the end of the hallway where the assumed Director and the fireplace sat had now been rotated up to the ceiling. Gravity had no effect on them, and even the smoke drifted down to the ceiling floor. The grandfather clock’s noise began to override the laughing, as it chimed its hourly clock strike noise. Soft bells rang in the air, as it caught Gilgamesh’s attention. Turning around, his eyes widened upon gazing the hallway behind him. As the clock bellowed its haunting lower-toned bells, the architecture started to become undone. Segments of floor, ceiling, and wall broke off and flew into a black void that became more visible with every breakage. Eventually, even the wooden grandfather clock was sucked into the nothing. Face filled with panic, Gilgamesh pushed himself to run faster, jump, and even lunge forward like Marvelous Man’s signature move. Every effort he did caused either himself to not move forward or the fireplace-end of the hallway to extend farther out of his reach. He dared to look back and could see the Cuban Room’s dismantle growing closer to him. He shouted, “It’s not real! IT’S NOT REAL!!!” The ceiling right above Gilgamesh splintered into many pieces. The Sumerian demigod dared to glance up. Within the black void above him stood a giant Puzzles glaring down at Gilgamesh. The smoke imp was the size of skyscrapers, and his eyes glowed with pure white. The familiar's horns had a devious point and seemed to be the size of a small house. When Puzzles spoke, it was as if a giant with a Russian accent talked. “DOES. IT. MATTER.” said the giant Puzzles. Gilgamesh froze, as a burst of light flashed around him. When the flash immediately died down, a rectangular prism of light encased his hairy body. None of the golden guardian’s muscles twitched, and neither did his eyes stir. Puzzles blinked at the frozen Sumerian demigod. The Cuban Room instantly vanished into smoke; fizzling out of reality. What was a smoky existence now returned back to the glowing park before the Sumerian demigod was transported. The petrified Gilgamesh floated above the park’s grass that had become enchanted with a sunlight quality. Puzzles waddled up to the prism of light. He glanced his eyes up and down the muscular man before turning to his right. The smoke imp looked towards his master, who stood with his silver broom in hand. He questioned, “The time capsule spell? I thought you would have done the sex cocoon spell. Much easier to cast.” “There’s no damn way I’m casting that spell. Unless you want to open him up from the cocoon and get hit with sex stink,” retorted the Director. Puzzles frowned, “Fair enough. At least you casted the spell to capture him off the ground. Would have been a real pain to move him if the dirt got caught in the time capsule. So how much time do we have before he thaws out?” Director Skye squatted down to analyze his handiwork. Surrounding the time-frozen Gilgamesh was a magical seal carved into the ground. Its sequences of runes and shapes within the circle was more complex than the light-conjured magic circles the Director created. “Well, it was a rush job, but I managed to get it all right. Should buy us at least three hours at most,” stated Director Doug. Puzzles nodded while reaching into his business suit’s pocket to pull out a smartphone. The smoke imp spoke, “I’ll call somebody to pick this up and get everybody here treated. Oh, and don’t forget your coat, Boss.” “Shoot!” spat the Director. Director Skye took off running. His face held panic that most likely was due to the possibility of his cobalt jacket becoming dirty. A voice called out, “Puzzles?” Facing to the voice behind himself, Puzzles spotted Gene limping towards him. The bunny demigod had his hand placed over his chest, and his white rabbit ears were drooped down. “Bossman and I came over to deal with Gilgamesh. You’re welcome,” said Puzzles. The rabbit superhero glanced at the time-frozen Sumerian demigod before looking back at the cold-eyed smoke imp. Gene asked, “And what of Marvelous Man?” “He’s fine for the most part. His hand is broken, but he managed supercharge the area to heal everybody. Let’s just hope you don’t let him get killed next time. Healers of his caliber are rare. Don’t fuck it up again,” answered Puzzles. The bunny demigod became silent. His head bent down in shame, and his eyes became incapable of visually connecting with Puzzles’. Director Doug shouted, “It got halfway to the ground! Goshdang, I sure am getting rusty!” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> An hour after the incident, the team assembled back at the D.A.B. building. Marvelous Man and Gene were exiting the elevator on the fifth floor. As they walked towards the Director’s office, Marvelous Man kept staring at his hand. It was the hand that was broken by Gilgamesh’s crushing grip, yet it now looked as if it was never harmed. Marvelous Man flexed his newly-healed hand. “Are you in pain?” asked Gene. Marvelous Man looked at Gene, “Huh? Oh, no. It’s fine...just amazed that it's fixed already. There’s not even a scar or anything.” “Yes. It is most fortunate to discover that you have the healing factor. Given enough time, you can recover from any wound,” noted Gene. Marvelous Man sighed, “Yeah...just wish I could’ve regenerated faster.” Gene said nothing, as the two continued down the hallway. Marvelous Man then spotted their field analyst, Fairuza, standing in front of Director Skye’s office door. As if on cue, Fairuza turned to her team and waved. “Hey, you two. Ready to head in?” smiled Fairuza. Marvelous Man shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. I’m just glad it’s not gonna be as awkward as the last time we all got called up here.” “I feel the same,” nodded Fairuza. The sorceress knocked on the Director’s door. Seconds ticked by, until it was opened by Puzzles to usher them in. Fairuza was the first to cross into the office with Marvelous Man following in behind her and ducking underneath the doorway. As Gene finally entered, the smoke imp closed the door behind the three. Inside the cobalt-carpeted office, Director Doug sat behind his cherrywood desk. He calmly smiled while sipping on a cold glass of sweet team. Marvelous Man immediately noticed there was another person in the office, as Puzzles’ smoky form glided back to the desk. An android was sitting was sitting in the black lounge chair propped against the wall. Despite his mechanical design, his stocky body almost looked soft. A great majority of the android’s torso consisted of black synthetic muscle that appeared to have a rubber-like quality than a metallic kind. These black muscle cords also appeared on his biceps and along the inner and outer thighs. His abdomen had a white, gelatin-like layering that seemed similar to soft, fatty tissue; giving the android an athletic gut. The white layer had as well traced over his fingers, toes, groinal region, and even on the underside of his pecs. It was peculiar to Marvelous Man that the android also had rubbery nipples, the size of pencil erasers, that were colored with a blackish hue. Any place on the android that did not require the sense of touch or was not an erogenous zone was plated over with a silver cover. The silver plates had golden outlines for what seemed to be an aesthetic purpose. Curiously, there was also a silver plating on the android’s hips that had handles welded onto them. As for any clothing, the android was sorely lacking any. The only garment he wore was a drawstring mokko fundoshi that covered a generously large package bulging against the fabric. Keychained to the mokko fundoshi was a pink Japanese amulet, that had the astrological symbol, Gemini, printed onto it. Marvelous Man could not help but think that this Soulem felt familiar; especially since the android had his fundoshi and nails colored zaffre. The android glanced up at Marvelous Man. The Soulem’s silver, metallic face had a neutral expression, but the mood rings on his cheeks immediately flashed from white to red. The android’s large, silver nose sharply inhaled before letting out a huff, while his white, digital eyes looked away. The Soulem had sections of golden blocks plated to his head in an attempt to appear as his beard, mohawk, and even eyebrows. He also had a zaffre-colored Phillips screw studded onto his chin. “So,” started the Director, “Capturing Gilgamesh was a success. But he’s still on ice for a few more hours before we can start interrogating him. Hopefully, we’ll be able to find out his connections to the Skeleton Lord and how we can use that to our advantage.” Director Skye looked at Marvelous Man. “As for you, Marvelous Man, great job on healing the civilians. They and their loved ones extend their thanks to you and request that you meet them in person. Now, I told them that you’re a bit busy at the moment trying to help other people and assisting our heroes to fight the bad guys. So it’s up to you if you want to visit them on your off-time. But I suggest you keep your head low if you don’t want to, cause you’re most likely gonna be newsworthy for the next week or so,” he said. Marvelous Man nodded, “Uh, yes, sir.” The Director sipped his sweet tea. “Now, onto the elephant in the room. You three make a great team, but y’all need to up your game a bit. I don’t know why, but fate keeps tossing you right at the Skeleton Lord. And each time, we are in the dark about who he is or what he can do,” he drawled. Director Doug continued, “That’s why I’m sorry to say this, Fairuza, but your magic isn’t cutting it. For some reason, he’s invisible to magic detection and even your analyzing abilities. And that is why I am including a field technician in your group to help study our foe and science his ass. He’s a noncombatant, so make sure he doesn’t get in the midst of y’all’s crossfires.” The Director pointed an open palm to the sitting android. “So until this Skeleton Lord issue has been resolved, meet your new teammate for future missions: Gemini Yin,” introduced Director Skye. Marvelous Man’s eyes widened in surprise, as the Soulem stood up. Maybe it’s a complete coincidence that another Soulem’s name is Gemini? Gemini held out his hand at Marvelous Man, as his voice spoke in an electronic yet masculine tone. He gritted his teeth into a smile, “Hey, bro. You must be Marvelous Man. Ya know, you kinda look like my friend, Justice.” Next Chapter

In the Beginning... I woke up in a good mood. The forest scent filled my nose with clean air. Grabbing my anxious cock, I had to take a much needed pee, so I walked out of the tent and walked to the edge of the campsite. As a nice thick steam of hot piss fogged the crisp air and cold ground, I watched in disbelief when to the right of me, I saw the huge figure of a man come out of the woods towards me at the campsite. I wasn't afraid of him, but I felt anxious. No...it was something else...I was in awe. This man was not ordinary in any way, he was just huge. His arms looked thick and muscled, but not super cut and his chest was enormous. Each pec was larger than my head. His neck was the biggest I'd ever seen, with enormous traps and shoulders. Still, even with all of his size, he looked strangely familiar and he was wearing my brothers University of Nebraska shirt that I had gotten him. That was a little too odd, but for some reason, it didn't matter. It was tight as hell on the man, and it even had a split up the seam of the right side and around the neck, which again wasn't a surprise, since he was so overblown with muscle. He looked like a pro Strongman, yet he had really boyish features. I continued my piss, never one for being piss shy and actually, as I watch him lumber slowly towards the campsite, I was getting aroused the closer he came. I'm bisexual, but mainly because I had a crush that turned into a relationship with my best bud in college, otherwise I've had girlfriends my whole life. Still, deep inside of me, I always had a thing for power lifters and bodybuilders. If they were big with muscle, my cock went big for them. No one in the family or even my closest friends, knew of my duel identity, but this wall of a stud was getting me hard and any inhibition of showing my gay side was ebbing at lightning speed. I just didn't care what he or anyone that may be passing by saw. In fact, I wanted an audience. I didn't know why, but all I knew was that there a hunger inside of me that was building. I waved with my unoccupied hand and I told him to join us, still thinking that my brother was asleep in the tent. Even though I had stopped pissing, my hand continued to message my growing cock until I was so rock hard, it was hard to fit my cock back into my shorts. The man, smiled and sat down on the make-shift picnic bench that my brother and I had made. Where we were camping, wasn't in some state park or crowded camping park. Our parents had brought us up to these mountains when we were younger and since mom's passing, we thought it fitting to come back to the place we cherished most. Dad, was having a harder time and couldn't join us, because any memory of mom just hurt him too much; even good ones. The forest was very dense, with a lot of wild animals, both tame and dangerous. We had seen bears and coyotes many times, but for some in-explainable reason, they never bothered us. This place was safe and private. Only a few hikers would sporadically come by. The place was peaceful, incredibly beautiful and isolated. It was special. I don't know why I didn't notice it before, but when the man sat down that's when I saw the shredded fabric of what was left of the red shorts that my brother had been wearing last night. It couldn't be...It just couldn't. I gave the man I look, that I'm sure was one of a mixture of "What the Hell?" and "If you hurt him...?" I walked over to the tent and pulled back the flap...empty. My heart sank, but then I heard my 16 year old younger brother’s, deepened voice come out of the man. He said that it was him...That he was Jimmy. I whirled around and looked into the man's eyes...and soon realized it was my brother's eyes. He stood back up and then I realized just how tall he was. He must have been over 6 feet and Jimmy was only a scrawny 5'2". I don't know how, maybe it was the eyes, or the voice or the clothes, but I knew this imposing figure was,in fact, my brother, only changed. Strangely, my lust for the beast before me, now my brother, did not lighten, in fact, it continued to build. I was slightly taken aback by that, but not disgusted; not in the least. I asked what had happened to him and he said that he woke up, while it was just beginning to get light out. He said that he was wide awake and felt instantly refreshed as he walked out of the tent and he felt like something was different. He said he felt different, too. He didn't want to wake me, just thinking that he was just being silly, so he decided to go for a walk up to the mountain lake for a swim. He felt like swimming. He didn't know why, but he just did. He said that when he got to the lake, he noticed something glowing in the water about 50 feet out in the lake. At first he thought it was the morning sun reflecting on the water. Then as he waded into the water he knew it was coming from under the water. Since we were just at the lake the night before and there was nothing, he decided to swim out to see what it was. He knew he should have gotten me first, but it was like he was drawn to it. He said that as he swam towards it, he felt the water getting warmer...or was it him that was warming up. He was sure, but then he said he felt stronger and stronger and (blushing) hornier. He still had his boyish charm. He felt pulled to the light as he continued and when he had finally gotten over top of the glow, he said he felt a rush of bliss (again blushing) like he had an orgasm, but it was all over his body and then he blacked out. The next thing he knew he was laying on the beach, his clothes were on but they were dry, tight and shredded, as he pointed to his shorts that now left nothing to the imagination, as his new, well over 7 inch cock and huge balls hung out in the open. Being such a short guy, Jimmy's cock was only 6 inches when Hard; I caught him beating off a couple of times. He said that he saw that he had grown muscle all over and there was another change in him, too. He had a hunger inside of him, but not for food. I told him that he should see his face...that had changed too, that he was incredibly handsome. I told him he had aged about 10 years and he looked like a man in his mid 20's. His eyes widened and grunted deeply in a "whattya know" kind of way. He said that he knew he had to come back and get me, so we could figure this out and so he could....he stopped his sentence, pausing for a few seconds as he looked at me and then he said that he immediately came back to the campsite and this is where we are now. I told him, he looked fucking amazing and he agreed as he looked at his body and began to caress himself, first his pecs, then his biceps, then in a moment a sheer fantasy, he did a double bicep pose that shredded his sleeves as he huge arms exploded in muscle. He looked away from his body and he looked at me, seeing my expression of shock, awe and not surprising....desire. He said, "You like what you see, big bro...yeah...I think you do" then his left hand grabbed his now growing cock. He walked over towards me as I was like a deer in the headlights. I couldn't move as he began to tower over me the closer he came to me. His cock was now over 9 inches and pointing the way to me. My own cock was so rock hard, it hurt. Then he stopped a couple of feet away, but since his body was so huge, his pecs were right in front of my face. I could smell the power in them. I looked up as his shadow covered my body. That’s when I noticed the hunger in his eyes. It was a hunger like mine, primal and sexual. My sweet brother was gone and what had replaced him was a massive hunter. The confidence and the animalistic attitude that poured off of him was incredible. I believed that to him, I was no longer his older brother...I was his bitch. I could feel it coming off of him and…it turned me on...more than I'd ever been turned on before. Normal reasoning said that his should not be, but it was as if we were no longer brothers, but...but an Alpha and his Beta. We just stood there for a few seconds with the lust inside of us building to a crescendo and then we leaped at each other tearing off our clothes as we embraced and kissed. Jimmy lifted me up with one hand and tore my shorts off with one easy swipe of his other hand. Once naked, he put me back down on the ground and I fell to my knees and took him in my mouth. His rock hard cock was huge, at least 11, possibly even 12 inches long and over 7 inches thick. I barely got his cock head in my mouth and only 6-7 of his incredibly thick inches would fit down in my oral cavity. He fucked my mouth like a bull and within minutes I welcomed the warmest and most lavish gush of cum to ever fill me up, but he didn't stop. He grabbed my head and continued his assault on my throat, miraculously pushing another few inches further into me, saying, "I can't stop Ray...I'm not done yet....I've got so much more...Aaaahhh!!" and he came down my throat a second time. I was having trouble breathing, so he pulled back just long enough for me to catch my breath, but then he plowed his huge cock even deeper into my throat. I thought my lips were going to tear it hurt so bad, but at the same time, I didn't want him to stop. And he didn't. He continued his assault as he face fucked me for another 2 massive loads. With each load he pushed further into my throat and by the last gush of cum down my throat, his balls were against my chin. I knew it was impossible. There's just no way I could have been able to take that abuse. I literally should be dead, but it was as if he wasn't human anymore, because no man could do that and at some point, I believe he changed me somehow. Then without even a glimmer of getting soft, he pulled out of my mouth, effortlessly picked me up and turned me around on my hands and knees and he plunged his granite cock into me. Only the head and a few inches were inside, but I screamed so loud, it scared the birds. Even with my cries of shock and pain, he didn’t ebb his momentum though. His grunts and growls only solidified that he was like an animal. A fucking Beast. He continued to push more of him in as tears rolled down my face, then more…8…10 and then I felt his pelvic bone against my ass. He was completely inside of me. That’s when something changed as it did with my mouth. Even though it was still painful, it was a pain that was incredible and sexy. The pleasure overtook the pain and it overtook my body. I didn't know why, but I later learned it was his cum that began to change me. It made me more palatable for him. It made me be the perfect sexual concubine for him. I began to plead for him to fuck me and then fuck me harder…and harder, to which he emptied the first load deep into my ass…and as I felt the warm cum fire into my stomach area, I felt the rest of my body orgasm, then he grabbed my hips, stood up, bringing me with him as held me like a wheelbarrow plowing his huge thick cock into me. His balls slapped my taint so hard I thought he’d bruise me. We continued to fuck for hours as we destroyed the campsite fucking in various areas and positions. I think he had unloaded over 10 orgasms into me, but I wasn't sure as I think I lost count. The tent fell on top of us, then we pounded on the picnic table, braking that and even I came three times before he finally came inside me for the last time with my shoulders on the on the sandy ground as he jack-hammered me, with such force and quantity that even though he had quite literally filled me up inside, the excess soaked the ground below us. When he pulled out of me, he was still hard as a rock and I believe he was still ready for me, but I was a lifeless lump. Completely exhausted, I pleaded for him to let me rest. Not surprisingly, he wasn’t ready for that, "I don't know why, but I can't...I need to take you there....I need you to change so we don't have to stop....ever!!" so he picked up my living, but exhausted body, draping me across his powerful arms like I was dead and he carried me up to the lake. My 16 year old younger brother, was now my master, my guardian, my lover, my Alpha. As I laid, slumped in his arms, I no longer even thought of him as my brother. He was the beginning of something amazing, and I was his first loyal subject. I knew what he was doing and I felt excited inside. I smiled and exclaimed “YES” when I saw the glow as we reached the edge of the lake. The air was different up here, instead of being lighter, it was heavy and you had to breathe in big lumbering breathes. My cock began to rise again has he walked into the water. My brother, pulled me up to him and bent down to kiss me as he said in an even lower and more booming voice, “We’re going to be Gods!” and I felt his cock push on my back under me coating me with his precum. Further and further he walked into the lake and with every step, I felt Jimmy's body react to the water. He was growing. I could feel his size increasing as I was cradled. As soon as my body touched the water, I instantly felt better. My brother held me like a lifeguard saving a drowning swimmer as he pulled us toward the light. I began to feel the strength in me rise and the feeling of power in me was exploding. I began to blissfully growl inside as my strength and power increased. It was as if thousands of hours of working out were paying off instantaneously. We both began moaning, vocally, as we got closer to the light. We weren’t even half way there when I told my brother I could go on my own, but he, told me no as he held me close and I was very glad he did as I could feel us both getting bigger and stronger. The feeling of my own growth was beyond comprehension, but feeling him getting bigger next to me, no human had ever felt such pure bliss before. We felt each other expanding and our lust to get bigger increased. We both had no inhibitions at all about what was happening to us and we welcomed it completely, with every fiber of our existence. At the campsite, my brother was like that of a linebacker, but now he was becoming a one of the biggest bodybuilders on earth. His muscles were growing and he was getting super cut. Thick veins formed on his skin. Hair formed on his pecs and actually all over his body as his testosterone levels must have been going through the roof. I myself, now felt what he must have felt when we were having sex, because I felt that I could go for hours and cum and cum and cum. I felt like I was stronger than most any human on earth and I knew that my brother was even stronger than that. We were still about 15 feet from the light when my brother seemed to convulse as his eyes turned bright blue and then a blue light wave exploded from his body and across the lake. I had know idea what that was about, but immediately, I felt like I could lift a house, with my strength increasing now like a rocket, but my body was still puny in comparison to my bother. I would find out later that at that moment, he had grown taller as well and that he was about 8.5 feet tall and his shoulders were over 5 feet wide. He was the biggest and strongest man on the planet. When we stopped above the light with it surrounding us, we again embraced as we tread water. We must have been out there longer than he was before, because I was now that of a slightly smaller Jay Cutler and he had reached his God status, that the light had obtained for him. My brother was still human, in his soul, but he was no longer a human being, physically and I envied him. His eyes became blue again and he began to chant. The words out of his mouth, seemed almost like the chant of an Indian would make. Then his body seemed to omit, the same light as what was beneath us; a golden hue that was filled with warmth and energy. We also noticed that we did not have to tread water anymore as either the light beneath us or my brother's light was keeping us afloat. Again, we hugged each other, in love, but mostly to feel each other grow. Wave after wave or continued power and strength fed into me, but now it was coming from my brother. I looked at him and into his blue eyes and he leaned in to kiss me. I opened my mouth to receive his kiss and that's when I felt it, one huge blast of energy shoot into me and I exploded in growth and power. I was now almost equal to my brother, but I knew that I would never obtain his status as he was the Alpha. I could feel my own cock growing in size, clearly surpassing most men, but I felt my brothers grow even more and when we let go of our embrace, I was held up by my brother’s cock. I felt it push against my hole and my hole opened for him. There was no pain, only sheer bliss. Again, I felt another explosion of him inside me and then everything went black… When we woke up, naked on the beach, we weren't alone. There were two hikers shaking us, but they quickly backed away when we woke up. Both men were very attractive, fit young men and it was clear to us that they were enthralled with us. We looked at each other and knew that we were going to overtake them and fuck them. They were going to be our newest recruits. They must have known it too and they walked toward their new masters. Both men didn't seem to be in a trance, but they knew that they were there for our pleasure and sexual release. The told us that they wanted to worship us and that they had never in their lives seen anything like us. They stripped off their gear and clothes and when both Jimmy and I stood up, they knelt before their new Gods. Then we all looked out into the water to see the glow still there and calling to us. It was as if the light was telling us to add to our lineage, which we were happy to oblige it by. The hikers asked us if we knew what it was? We did and we told them they soon would, but first, we needed to cum.

(deleted by the author)

Michael heard them arguing before he even got within the pool area. It suddenly dawned on him that neither guy would want to see him there. Tommy was probably furious that he had seen Matt last night and Matt had made it very clear he didn’t want Michael seeing Tommy anymore. Michael crept into the pool grounds and stood behind some bleachers – where he had a clear view of both men and could hear what they were saying. He was completely taken aback, and kind of turned on for some reason, when he glanced around the bleachers and saw that chubby Matt was holding Matt in the air – his hand clenching the front of the wrestler’s pants and his belt. “Put me down, Tommy.” “No, not if you’re going to try and slug me again, Matt.” “I’m sorry about that. It was stupid of me. You just gotta promise me that you won’t give Michael any more power bars. And I think it would be best if you didn’t even talk to him.” “I don’t think you’re in a position to be telling me what to do, Matt.” “I’m not telling. I’m asking as a friend.” Tommy immediately dropped the wrestler to the ground and turned from him. Matt’s tone had been friendly – almost begging. It was a very different attitude than Michael had ever seen in the guy. Matt fell on his butt, but slowly got back up and faced the other man. “Can’t you do this for me, Tommy? You know I like the guy.” “You’re stringing him along, Matt. Just like you did to . . .” “To you, Tommy? We both know that’s not true. I was honest from the start. You knew I had a girlfriend. You knew I didn’t want to be out of the closet.” “And the same thing is happening now with Michael!” Tommy turned back to face the other guy. They stared at each other for a few seconds. “You don’t know that, Tommy. Michael and I have something special. I just need some time to work things out. I know he’s told you how he feels about me. You don’t want to go and mess with that, Tommy. We know what happens if you mess with true love after dealing with the power bars.” Michael basically missed the last part of what Matt said. He was too focused on the fact that the big guy had said he was working things out. And he used the words ‘true love.’ Michael’s head and heart were so busy trying to wrap themselves around the idea that Matt really cared for him, he missed a huge part of the next few sentences in their conversation. Michael was too elated to hear anything. “Why shouldn’t I give him more bars, Matt?” “You know why, Tommy.” “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.” “Okay. I want to be the biggest and strongest guy on campus.” “You’ll never be the strongest.” Tommy glared at the wrestler. It was clear they both knew that title only went to Tommy. “Okay, the biggest and the second strongest. Are you happy?” “Why couldn’t you love me, Matt?” The obvious pain in Tommy’s voice and the bluntness of the question snapped Michael back into the present situation. Time stood still while he waited to hear Matt respond. The next few sentences were obviously going to define the guy in Michael’s eyes. “You wanted too much, Tommy. And I wanted different things.” “I gave you everything I had!” “I know, Tommy. And I continue to thank you for that, but we both have to move on. Remember, you made the choice. I didn’t force you. I didn’t make you this.” “I loved you, Matt. That’s why I did it.” “Maybe you loved me too much.” There was dead silence. Michael was pretty sure Tommy was crying. His heart broke for his fraternity big brother, but his lust for the wrestler was too much. Matt had said he wanted to work things out with Michael – and that made the newly muscled guy very happy. “If you still love me, Tommy, and if you feel about Michael the way I think you do, then you’ll let me have him.” “You know what it will do to me.” “I do, but the good news is you’ll still have your strength.” “I don’t do this for you, Matt. I do it for Michael. I know he likes you . . . a lot. But I swear, if you hurt him . . .” Tommy stopped in mid-sentence. There was nothing more to be said. Both men knew the conversation was over. They both understood the other’s stance. Tommy glared at Matt for a few more seconds and then he turned and walked away – in the opposite direction of Michael. There was a strange tugging in Michael’s heart at that moment. Something in Tommy’s voice . . . his demeanor . . . his firmness moved Michael very much. But as the younger guy looked at Matt, the wrestler, that familiar lust . . . no, need . . . for his muscled body returned. There was something deeper and more powerful resonating in Michael, but he didn’t stop to analyze the feeling. He went back to the gate, opened and closed it loudly, and then called out. “Matt, are you here?” He walked around the bleachers and the look on Matt’s face was exactly what he wished for. “Holy fuck, Mouse, look at you!” “What?” Michael asked, feigning ignorance. “You look like you’ve been supersized three or four times.” “Oh that. Yeah, I guess I’m a little bigger. Care to take it inside the gym and wrestle, just to see how much I’ve truly grown.” Michael had moved close to Matt, enough to notice he was breathing kind of hard. The big wrestler was clearly turned on. This made Michael go crazy. He could feel the blood – tainted with a wild sexual drive – pumping through his body. He wanted Matt more than ever. There was something in the back of his mind gnawing at him, but his raging hard-on helped him to ignore it. “Naw, mousey-Mouse, that’s okay. I’m a little beat from lack of sleep. I think I’ll just head back to my room.” “I really wasn’t asking, Matt.” Something sinister took over Michael. He could feel the power surging through his body and he loved it. He knew he was strong as shit and all he wanted to do was use that strength – to impress Matt . . . or was it to put him in his place. It didn’t matter. The urge won out. Without any warning, Michael dipped his newly broad right shoulder down and pressed into Matt’s tight mid-section before the wrestler could do anything. Suddenly, Michael was back upright and Matt’s body rested easily in the air on his shoulder. Michael started walking toward the gym. “Matt, remember when you said I wouldn’t be dominating you until donkey’s flew? Well I think a bunch of jackasses just sprouted wings. Your body feels so light on my shoulder. So light, in fact, that it feels like I can do this.” Michael bounced Matt’s body into the air with his shoulder and at the same time he brought his open hand up – pressing into Matt’s mid-section and before the wrestler even had time to figure out what was happening, Michael pressed the guy into the air – with just one arm. Matt’s body was suddenly held aloft by Michael’s extended gun. Then, as if to pour salt in an open wound, Michael started to press the wrestler’s body up and down without any sign of struggle. Matt was too flabbergasted to say, let alone, do anything to stop Michael. It wasn’t clear if he would have been able to anyway. When Michael got them into the gym he noticed two guys were playing basketball. He hoisted Matt’s body into the air and walked directly to a spot near them. He simply growled loudly and easily pumped out a rep with the wrestler’s body. The two guys immediately got the message and left the gym so quickly their unforgotten ball rolled across the floor slowly. Michael then walked over to the wall and with his free hand he reached up and grabbed the corner of the mat that was hanging there by three big spikes – it’s where the thing was stored during basketball games or when wrestling wasn’t happening. Michael tugged, but was a little too forceful and two of the spikes came out of the wall while the third snapped in two. Michael acknowledged what he had done with a slight ‘huh’ and then dropped the mat on the floor. He raised his arm – taking Matt’s body up with it and then dropped him onto the mat, as well. Matt scrambled to his feet quickly, just like a good wrestler. Matt’s crotch revealed that he was already sporting major wood – clearly turned on by Michael’s display. “Oh, little Mouse, you’re going to be so sorry. Those power bars are pretty powerful, but you’re no match for big Matt. I’m a national champion wrestler and a few added muscles doesn’t make you anything more than the dweeb you are.” “Matt, Matt, Matt – what are you packing there? A twenty inch arm?” “Twenty one, little punk.” “Well take a look at this, big boy. It might make that hard cock of yours shrivel up from feeling inadequate. I believe my ‘dweebish’ arms are now up to twenty three inches and they’re still growing.” Earlier that morning, Michael had been obsessed with his growth, so he had measured himself. He was shocked to see how enhanced he had become from the power bars. When carrying the wrestler into the gym, he had already deducted he had passed the guy in size. This made Michael go wild inside – since his dream of dominating Matt was about to come true. He was going to take it slow, though. He wanted this moment to last. He brought both of his arms up and flexed them hard – making the biceps swell upward like giant mountains being revealed by a stupendous sunrise. Matt’s eyes bugged out wider than before and his mouth dropped open in shock. It did seem that the tension in his crotch immediately subsided, too. “It seems I’ve become Mighty Mouse while you weren’t looking, Matt. You might be a world-class wrestler, but I believe my intense brute strength is going to easily dominate you – no matter what you bring to the mat. It’s going to be like when a suped up truck meets a tank – no matter what fancy bells and whistles the vehicle has, the stronger, more powerful, tank destroys it with the greatest of ease. And by the way your shorts have tented out again, I think you’re digging the idea of this Mighty Mouse having his way with you. You’re going to be such a fun big toy to play with, Matt. Matt, indeed, could now feel his cock leaking pre – just from listening to Mouse spout off about his size and strength. There was something about being challenged by a bigger guy that just sent the wrestler over the edge. He knew he’d dominate Mouse with no problem – even with the obvious improvements. Mouse had only taken two power bars. That was nothing. He had also only been growing for a few days. His strength could be growing, but nothing compared to the biggest man on campus. Matt was looking forward to plowing his challenger’s sweet mouth later on. “Oh, and I should confess that I lied to you yesterday, Matt. I told you I’d only been benching 400 pounds since having the power bars, well that wasn’t exactly true. It’s a little more than that. Today I benched 800 pounds without any struggle. That’s also why I didn’t have trouble pumping out one-handed reps with your big body.” “No way, little Mouse!” There was a tonal mixture in Matt’s response. It was full of disbelief, awe, jealousy, and lust – all at the same time. Matt looked at the now bigger Michael and began to realize his desire for Mouse to grow huge and strong was intense. He was beginning to get that the guy was now really strong – probably strong enough to bench the 800 pounds, for he had lifted Matt easily with one arm. It had been like Matt weighed nothing at all. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out what Matt was going to do next. He was, after all, a wrestler. Michael dropped his right leg back a little and tensed his mid-section as he watched Matt lower his shoulder and take aim. “Little Mouse is going down!” It was like some kind of battle cry. The wrestler knew how to tackle a guy and he fully anticipated taking the Mouse down to the mat with what would be a forceful slam of his shoulder. Matt didn’t take into account, however, how much Michael had grown and how much thicker he had become. The loud thud of the wrestler’s muscled shoulder meeting the unmovable torso of Michael was deep and echoed throughout the gym. The sound emphasized how dense the newly big body had already become. The fact that Michael did not budge at all stunned Matt – both physically and mentally. Little Mouse had just taken a full-on shoulder slam from the wrestler and he didn’t double over in pain or go crashing to the floor. He stood there – absorbing he hit with his now muscled-covered body – as if he was the windshield of a speeding truck and Matt had been an unlucky splattered insect. Matt was too dazed and confused to react very quickly. “Well that didn’t work out the way you thought it would, now did it, Matty?” With lightning speed Michael reached down and locked his arms around the other guy’s upper torso from behind. In one quick move he jerked Matt upward – so the wrestler was now hanging upside down in Michael’s strong arms. Matt faced away from his challenger, his legs flailing in the air while his abdomen was held tightly against the other man’s body. “Oh man, Matty, I love holding your big body in the air like this. Let’s give you an upside down bear hug – to see if you can handle the pressure of my twenty-three inch arms. Let’s start off slowly to make you think it’s not going to get too strong and then feel your body respond in multiple ways as the squeeze starts getting unbearable. Oh, think of the guys you’ve done this to in the past, Matty. And to think you never really thought it would be done to you – especially upside down. Here, I’ll walk around a little just to emphasize how easy it is for me to hold you like some kind of stuffed animal.” Michael began to stroll around the middle of the basketball court – showing off his growing strength. Matt’s arms were tightly locked in place at his sides – Michael’s grip being too strong for the wrestler to challenge. He was like a baby wrapped in a blanket - twisted numerous times around his frame. The pressure was already getting a little unbearable, but that fact didn’t bring the wrestler discomfort. In fact, it did the opposite. It turned Matt on in a way that was utterly new and uncontrollable. As his torso was crushed by thick arms and it became harder and harder for him to take a deep breath, the guy became majorly aroused – his cock raging hard like a lone oak tree jutting upward in an otherwise barren field. He also had goose bumps all over his body and his blood was pumping a hell of a lot faster than it ever had before. Matt was being treated like he was nothing more than a rag doll and it thrilled him beyond belief. He suddenly realized he was moaning out loud and he hadn’t even noticed. “Sounds like the little man is beyond excited being dominated by someone bigger and stronger. Oh Matteroo, now you’re getting a feel for what your body does to me. Soon, all you’ll think about is my big muscles and how you want me to manhandle you. You’re going to want my humongous guns wrapped around you any chance you can get. You’ll be sneaking out of Janice’s bed late at night just to come and beg me to easily lift your body into the air. It’s getting harder to breathe, ain’t it Matty? Oh, you just love being forced into submission, don’t you? We’ve only just begun to have some fun, little man. I got to make up for some lost time – all those nights when you used me to please yourself and I didn’t get any satisfaction.” Matt’s body began to flail wildly – like he was trying to escape Michael’s hug, but it quickly became obvious that the dude was having a massive orgasm. This brought even more joy to the big man holding him in the air. Michael’s strong grasp and talking all dominant had proven to be too much for the captive wrestler. His lust for being forced into submission was just too intense. His ejaculation was powerful and long. Michael hugged the convulsing dude even tighter – cutting off all airflow for a few seconds. When the orgasm was over, Michael dropped Matt onto the wrestling mat and stared down at the spent boy. “Aw Matty, was my strength too much for you? You couldn’t stop from exploding, could you? Look, you’ve made a big nasty mess in your pants. A big old tribute to my new muscles, huh? I wish you could feel all this power surging through my body, man. It’s like I’m growing by the second and all my bulges are just constantly begging to do something to use my new strength. I just want to flex all the time. Gotta show you, little Matty, what these humongous guns look like now!” Michael shot his arms up into a double bi flex and mounds of muscle shot up all over the place. His new size and tensed arms proved to be too much for his tight tank top. The two straps both snapped apart as soon as the big man’s arms and chest popped out like mountains. The remnants of the destroyed shirt floated down around the guy’s small waist. Matt was watching from down on the ground and let out a loud moan as soon as he heard the cloth rip. “Yeah, look at that, Matty, all this hugeness wanted to be free. That shrimpy little shirt just couldn’t contain all of this. My Mighty Mouse muscles need to be out in the open for you, little fella – so you can worship them. Hey, let’s get you back up on your feet so we can have some more fun.” Michael bent over and grabbed Matt at his waist. He easily lifted him off the floor and held him so his feet dangled in the air. Toying with the cute wrestler was making Michael crazy with excitement. He was going to some place he knew was dangerous, but he didn’t care. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think having strength and muscles would be so much fun. He was now understanding Matt’s domineering cockiness on a whole new level. He related to his friend in an entirely new way and was having trouble remembering what it was like to be the smaller guy. Right now, both men were terribly excited about Michael’s newfound strength and the fact that he held the wrestler off the ground without any problem. “Matty Smatty, you are so freaking light. I’m holding you off the ground and your weight doesn’t even register to my huge guns at all. We’re going to have to add some more muscle to you, little man, so I’ll actually feel something when I pick you up. Hey, Matty, did you ever want to fly? Let’s see how high I can toss you.” Without much of a warning than those few words, Michael shot his arms into the air and released the wrestler’s body. Matt sailed straight up – about fifteen feet and then fell back down towards the ground. Michael grabbed the wrestler by the waist and caught him before he could hit the floor. It all happened so fast Matt had very little time to consciously register what was happening, he merely gurgled joyfully like a little kid. Michael immediately did it again, sending Matt’s body even higher – soaring up without any problem because of the gym’s high ceiling. This time, when Matt was caught in Michael’s arms a deep moan escaped the wrestler’s mouth – he loved the fact that his big body could be tossed so easily. “Well that certainly pleased you, didn’t it, little guy? You were soaring through the air with the greatest of ease. Did you feel like a superhero, Matty? Like Peter Pan? Or did it take you back to when you were a little tyke and your father would toss you up like that? I think it’s time for something really fun. Let’s have a strength contest, okay, little guy. Here, I’ll set you back down on land and we’ll lock hands. Let’s see what those little muscles of yours can do.” Michael lowered Matt to the floor. He then held up his big hands and Matt let out a slight moan when he saw how much the guy’s paws had grown. Not only were Michael’s guns now twenty-three inches thick, but his fingers were much thicker, as well. Matt placed his smaller palms against Michael’s and they both tightened their fingers. Immediately, Matt started squeezing and pressing into the other guy. Michael let out a loud yell of pain and his hands went backwards. “Arghhhh!!!” Matt was instantly super charged by the fact that he had caught the other man off guard. The wrestler intensified his pressure – squeezing his fingers with all his might and pushing hard. Michael’s legs began to buckle and the big man’s body started lowering to the ground as he gritted his teeth and tightened his eyes in pain. A loud growl came from Matt’s throat as he clearly took control again and dominated the other guy. “Yeah, Little Mouse, you’re not so mighty now, are you!” Suddenly, Michael’s face no longer showed pain and a somewhat sinister smile crept across this lips. He turned his gaze upward and the grin got bigger. His palms abruptly stopped moving and it was clear that Matt’s efforts were doing nothing at all to the big man. “I had you going for a second didn’t I, Matty? Is that all the pressure you got, man? Cause I’m feeling nothing. I just thought I’d put on a little show for you – you know, to get you going. Here, dude, let me show you what real power is.” Michael only used a fraction of his strength. He knew better than to use his full power – it would have crushed every bone in Matt’s hands, but he did exert enough pressure to instantly make the wrestler cry out in pain. Michael stood back up fully as his hands easily pushed back against Matt’s and he squeezed the guy’s fingers mercilessly. Matt’s eyes were wide with shock and lust, even though his fingers felt like they were caught in some kind of tightening machinery. He was completely turned on by the fact that he had been duped by Michael. The strength in the other guy’s hands was amazing, cock-hardening, and excruciating all at the same time. Matt’s eyes widened even more as he struggled hard to push back against Michael’s hands and nothing happened. “Remember when you used to hold me down on the bed with one hand, Matteroo? That used to turn me on so much. You had so much power in that one arm smashing me into the mattress. The more I struggled the more I got turned on. Now, you’re getting a taste of what that felt like, aren’t you, baby. I can tell you’re excited – way beyond belief – by the fact that my hands barely register any pressure from you at all – but you’re struggling with all your might. I’m using about as much force as I would to swing open a door, man. Doesn’t that make it even hotter?” Michael’s words made Matt moan with a mixture of pleasure and pain. His fingers felt like they were very close to the breaking point and the thought that Little Mouse was dominating him so easily brought him to the brink of orgasm, as well. He was, indeed, using all of his strength and, yet, Michael was easily pressing him backwards. Since they were facing each other and were very close, Matt got his first good look at Michael’s newly improved muscles. Bulges popped out everywhere – not from being tensed, but merely because they were now huge and hard. Michael knew Matt was admiring his new body. “Oh Matty-my-man, I used to think you were so strong! I could blast out a big one just from thinking about your strength and what you could do to me. The way you could toss me around the room was the only kind of foreplay I could ever need. Now, it seems the tide has turned. Look at all those little beads of sweat across your forehead as you try to compete with my new power. Here, let’s get you into a friendlier position. I’m not going to break anything, Mattty, but I am going to show off a little.” Michael squeezed his fingers a little more. Matt threw his head back as he let out a scream of pain and his knees buckled. Within a few seconds, Matt was kneeling before Michael with his wrists bent backwards – unable to anything except give in to the stronger man’s grip. Michael then quickly pulled his arms in revers – dragging Matt’s upper torso with them. Matt’s face slammed into Michael’s raging hard on, barely concealed by his tight cotton shorts. Both men immediately let out loud moans of pleasure. Matt instinctively turned his head sideways so he could wrap his mouth around Michael’s hard cock. “Guess you figured out those power bars helped another part of me grow, too, huh, Matty? I can kind of dominate you in that area now, too. We’ll have to compare later on, so you can get excited even more – seeing how thick and long my tool has become – especially when compared to yours. Oh man, your mouth feels so hot, Matty. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about this moment.” By this point, Michael had released Matt’s hands and placed his big paws behind the wrestler’s head. He was pressing Matt’s face into his crotch even harder and moving the guy’s mouth up and down on his stiff log to give himself more pleasure. Matt could do nothing but enjoy the job – he wouldn’t have been able to pull his head back even if he had wanted to. Being used as a pleasure tool by the bigger man was almost too much for Matt – he could tell his own cock was ready to spew again. The shift in roles – from dominator to the one being dominated – was such an amazing turn on. Matt couldn’t explain it – even if he had tried. He just loved the fact that he could feel Michael using him like he was nothing more than a dishcloth or a toy. The pressure behind Matt’s head made it very clear that the wrestler couldn’t do anything to match the new strength of Little Mouse. He simply had to give in and do what his master ordered. And that thought got his cock harder than it had ever been in his entire life. “How ‘bout we really get this party started, Matteroo!” Michael pulled the other guy’s head back from his crotch and then gave him a little shove. Matt’s body fell back to the mat on the floor and he lay there looking up Michael’s huge muscles – with a face full of desire. Michael fell on top of the wrestler and could tell his weight coming down hard knocked the wind out of Matt. Immediately, Michael started grinding his crotch against Matt’s and pressed his big frame into the other man. The mixture of the heavy weight, hard cocks rubbing against each other, and Michael letting out a deep growl made Matt moan like an alley cat in heat. Michael pressed his newly muscled body into the wrestler even more – just to get the guy to moan louder. By this point, Matt had no control over his body whatsoever – he had simply submitted to his intense desire for having Michael dominate him. He no longer struggled against the bigger man – he merely gave into all the pleasure he was feeling. “Oh Matt-baby, I love squishing your body against the floor. You feel so small and defenseless underneath me. I bet I could grind you to orgasm with just a few more thrusts. You ready to cum for me, Matty? You ready to give up control of your cock to my muscles . . . my strength. Tell me how much you want me, man. Beg me for more, Matty. Come on; let me hear you plead for domination. Tell me how much you want me to pound that sweet tight wrestler ass of yours.” “Oh fuck, Michael, please plow me. Take my virgin ass, now, man. I’m all yours. There’s nothing I could do to stop you, anyway. Fuck me now, please. Overpower me with those big muscles and have your way with me. God, I need you inside of me right now, man. Pop my sweet cherry ass, Mighty Michael. I want you to control me completely.” Sweeter words had never been uttered in Michael’s opinion and the fact that Matt used his real name almost sent him over the edge. He now fully understood why the wrestler used to get so turned on by dominating him. Controlling the smaller man was mind-blowing. Hearing Matt beg to be plowed was like winning the lottery, celebrating Christmas, and a combination of all your birthdays happening on the same day. Michael raised his body off the other man by pressing up with one of his huge arms. At the same time he used his other bulging gun to easily flip Matt’s tight body over. As soon as Matt was facing the floor, Michael brought his big paw up to the man’s ass and grabbed it hard. Matt cried out loudly with desire. Michael kneaded those sweet ass cheeks like he was crushing bricks in his hand. Matt raised his ass off the mat both from the pain and as an invitation for the bigger man to claim his prize. Michael gripped the man’s pants and easily ripped them and his underwear from Matt’s lower body. The wrestler’s perky bubble butt was now fully exposed and Michael let out a primeval yell that sounded like some huge animal about to pounce on his prey. “Aw, holy hell, look at that fucking hot ass, little Matty. That thing looks sweeter than a thousand doughnuts or trash bags full of candy. Hot damn, that thing also looks tighter than anything I’ve ever seen. You sure you want my big rod prying those cheeks apart and slamming into that pretty little hole of yours, Matty baby?” “Fuck me Michael! Fuck me now! I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life! I love you, dude. Take me. I’m all yours. I give myself to you. I want you with every part of my body.” “You sure, little man? It’s going to be painful. You sure you want this?” “Yes! I’m all yours!” “Nope, not happening, little Matty. Not today. Not ever.” And with that final comment Michael quickly pulled his body away and stood up. It took a few seconds for Matt to realize the big man wasn’t on top of him anymore. Matt quickly turned his head and looked up at the other guy. His ass was still poking up in the air – begging for penetration. Michael had a smile on his face that immediately revealed his feelings. “Now you know, Matt. You know what it’s like to want something so much and realize you can’t have it. I used to pine for you in my dorm room every night. I used to jerk myself off just hoping and praying you’d call and beckon me to your room. It hurts, doesn’t it, little man – to want something that badly and then to find out it can’t be yours. Look at you – so hot and bothered you can’t even see straight. I played you, dude. Just like you’ve been playing me for a long time. I can’t plow you, little Matty, cause – you see – I’m in love with someone else. There’s a guy that’s shown me what it really means to be cared for. There’s a guy across this campus that has never called me ‘Little Mouse.’ And he never took advantage of me. As a matter of fact, he always helped me. Sure, he might not have your nice muscular wrestler body, but he’s got something even better. He’s got a good heart. I’m going to walk out of here now, Matt, and I’m never going want you again. I’m also going to smile as I leave because I know before I even get to that door over there you’re going to be beating off that little dick of yours thinking about me. And you’re going to continue to think about me for a long time – even when you’re with Janice! You know, Matt, I did really care for you once. I want you to know that. But that’s in the past, now. I need to be with someone a little more authentic and truthful. I wish you the best, man. I really do. But this huge muscular Mighty Mouse has a date to keep. A date with a fantastic guy. Here, I’ll give you a big biceps flex to fuel your orgasm! Take care, Matt.” Michael raised his arms into a double biceps pose and flexed hard. His biceps seemed to have grown even larger in the last hour or so. Matt’s hands shot immediately to his hard cock – even as his face continued to look shocked and lustful. Michael held the flexed pose as he walked away – knowing full well the wrestler would be watching him the entire time. Right before he walked out the door he heard some loud moans, a few deep breaths, and then the throttled grunts as Matt released his giant load in homage to the now larger and more dominant Michael.

Seven The next day Sean put his plan to take control of the Dexameni-frat in action. He looked up Keith in his room in the nearly deserted frat house. The now 85 pound swim captain quickly realized he could no longer lead the frat with the top athletes. He agreed to back Sean's candidacy and called a meeting. Brad and Brock were in the gym as their cell phones vibrated simultaneously. Brad grabbed his phone and read the text. "Special frat meeting in two days", he said. "Got it too", Brock peeped back in his high-pitched voice, "what could it be?". "We'll see", Brad replied, "Come on, B. Back to work to build back yar muscles". Two days later all the members of the frat gathered in the frat house. Brad was ready for the meeting, but Brock kept stalling. "Come on, buddy. Meeting starts in five", Brad said to encourage his friend. "I'm not going", Brock answered. "What? Why?", Brad asked incredulously. "I can't stand bare-chested between the most muscular guys on campus. I used to be the biggest of them all. Now, I'm nothing", Brock peeped. "Come on, man", Brad said and put his hand on his small friend's bony shoulder to comfort him, "Ya're still the same guy, with or without yar muscles. Everyone likes ya". Brock put his frail hand atop his buddy's warm hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, but I'm not ready for the confrontation. Tell them I'm sick, will you?", he asked. "Sure?", Brad stated. Brock nodded 'yes'. "Catch ya later, B.", Brad said and left their room. He joined his fellow brothers in the large room where he had been initiated. He took his place in the semicircle in front of the wooden chair leading up to the throne. He looked aside and took in the faces of his 18 brothers: only Brock and Sean were missing. A hint of pride flowed through his 185 pound body as he compared his bare torso to those of his brothers: he was amidst the bigger and most jacked guys in the room. A cough made him and the others look up. Next to the throne atop the stairs, a frail figure appeared. The diminished Keith stepped in front of the throne and looked down at the frat members. "Brothers", he peeped in a girlish voice, "A strange illness has made me lose most of my mass. Doctor told me I have to be checked to make sure it's nothing contagious. Off course, I won't be able to swim anymore and therefore can't be leader of the noble Dexameni house…" A mild whisper rose from the frat members at these words. "Brothers", Keith peeped, his voice barely any louder than the whispers, "Brothers, please… As my final act as frat leader I have chosen my successor. The only one worthy of leading our noble Dexameni frat. An important member of the football team…" A wave of warmth came over Brad and his heartbeat went up as he heard these words. "This can only be me", he thought. A small smile formed on his lips. "SEAN" What felt like an icy rain replaced Brad's feeling of pride. Instead of him, the biggest asshole on the football team would now lead their frat. He noticed his brothers looking at each other and gently talking about this surprise. Their talking ended abruptly and all of them looked up at the throne. Sean's muscular form appeared next to Keith, a smug grin on his face as he looked down. Brad could have sworn that Sean looked bigger than before, but realized that everyone in the room would look massive standing next to the boyish Keith. The wooden robe Sean was wearing as the new frat leader completely hid his body, only his wide shoulders formed a strong line beneath the baggy fabric. "SILENCE!" Sean's booming, deep baritone resounded through the room and silenced everyone. Sean installed himself on the throne, nodding at Keith who slowly descended the stairs and left the frat house. "Brothers", Sean said, "the Dexameni frat has always been the most exclusive on campus. Assembling only the best athletes of our university. An elite group of the biggest men!". "Yeah!", the frat members howled in unison. Some even threw a double bicep pose. "Therefore", Sean continued, "I present you our newest brother : Tristan". All the frat members looked to their right as a door opened and a truly massive figure strutted into the room. They followed his movements as the figure slowly moved from the shadows into the light. A gasp of disbelief escaped the 18 frat members as Tristan stopped in the center of the room and faced them. Brad's eyes widened to the size of saucers as he gazed at his bare-chested younger brother. His brother was not only the tallest guy in the room, but also the broadest: he was twice as wide as the biggest frat member. His massive arms, masses of hard meat crisscrossed with thick veins, hung relaxed from his cannonball-sized shoulders; his heavy pecs heaved up and down with every breath he took and protruded proudly from his chest as they obscured the top of his deeply grooved eight-pack. Brad felt a tingle go through his cock and looked up at his brother's squared face that oozed masculinity with his five o'clock-beard. A smug grin formed on Tristan's face as he took in the reaction of the frat members. His brother looked up into his dark brown eyes and he returned the stare, noting the mixture of awe and unease. He turned around and looked up at Sean, slowly climbing the stairs as he was motioned to come up. Brad and his frat brothers drank in the sight of Tristan's insanely wide back, where the mounds of muscle flowed into each other. Two faint moans escaped some of the frat members, but Brad couldn't tell where they came from. Tristan stopped next to the throne and turned around to face the frat members. He folded his meaty arms in front of him, making his huge biceps dig into his protruding, striated chest. He kept looking directly into his brother's eyes. "Welcome, Tristan", Sean said officially, "You'll be the gatekeeper of the Dexameni frat house! Brothers, decline has slipped into our ranks these past years. Under my rule, our frat will return to its origin. From today on, the ancient ways are back: only the top athlete from a sport is welcome to join the Dexameni frat…" A murmur went through the frat members as they realized the meaning of Sean's words: most of them were teammates of the major sports played at Orchid University. "This can't be true", someone said. "SILENCE!", Sean bellowed deeply and instantly shut up the frat members. "Go stand together with those that play the same sport." Six groups were formed in silence. The wrestlers were the first ones to have to step to the center of the room. Five of the highest ranked state wrestlers, three of them the absolute star of their weight class, formed a line in front of the wooden stair at the base of Sean's throne. The difference between them was obvious: the 220 pound heavy weight champ dwarfed the others and was allowed to stay. Tristan slowly descended the stairs and lead the cast outs away, touching every one of them to check if he could drain their muscle. Not feeling the awaited tingling sensation, he quickly chased them away and returned to congratulate the winner. Even with the 220 pound wrestler, he didn't feel the tingle. Sean repeated the process with the other athletes until only the football players were left. He motioned them to step to the center of the room. Brad glanced at his two teammates and knew it was a close call: the three of them looked like brothers. Sean stared at his three fellow football players. "Where's Brock?", he asked and looked at Brad. "He's not feeling well", Brad replied spontaneously. "Sick or not, he's the biggest guy the house. Euhr… I mean second biggest guy", he said and pointed at Tristan, "So the three of you have to leave!". "But…", Brad mumbled. "Something to add?", Sean asked. "I…", Brad began but he realized he had agreed with Brock not to say anything about his new diminished size. He nodded 'no' and saw his beastly brother move towards them. The other football players decided to put up a fight, but he saw his brother toss them atop his wide shoulder like they were feathers and carry them out. "Okay, I'll go", he said and left the house while his brother threw the 180 pound guys through the air. "Now, we truly are the elite", Sean said to the remaining frat members, "the biggest men on campus. Let's party!". The six athletes went to the bar while Sean motioned Tristan to come over. "And?", he asked. "Nothing with none of them. My brother slipped out without being touched though", Tristan replied. "Mhm. We'll see about that later. Let's have a drink", Sean replied and joined his six frat brothers. They were all impressed with Tristan's godly physique and as the alcohol flowed they began horsing around. The heavy weight wrestler challenged Tristan for a fight, but the beastly teen simply grabbed the 220 pound wrestler's armpits and effortlessly lifted him from the floor. "Fuck, you're strong", the wrestler said as he was put back down, "What team are you on? Haven't seen you around here". "I'm just visiting for the holidays. Dropped out of high school when I turned 18 last month", Tristan answered. "You're only 18?! I'm 21 and you dwarf me like I'm a runt. And I'm the biggest guy on the wrestle team", the wrestler blurted out incredulously. "Had a growth spurt recently", Tristan replied with a smug grin. "Man, you should join the wrestle team. If we team up we'll dominate the heavyweight class", the wrestler stated, "Why don't you join me for a training tomorrow?". "Sure", Tristan replied. "Deal. I'm Mark", the wrestler said and offered Tristan another drink. Sean left his frat brothers and went up to Brock's room. He threw open the door and went in. Brock jumped up from his bed as he recognized Sean. "Why are you dressed like that?", he peeped as he noticed the white robe. "I'm the new leader of the house", Sean replied, "Pack yar stuff and come to Keith's room". Brock just stared as Sean turned around and left him. Wondering why he had to move to Keith's room, he opened his closet. Realizing that none of his old clothes would fit anymore, he just left the room and headed for Keith's room. The door was slightly ajar and opened further as he knocked. "Keith?", he asked as he went in. "Ah! Ya're already here." The deep voice behind him rumbled in Brock's stomach. A strong hand pushed him inside and he heard the door shut. He turned around and saw Sean putting a backpack on the floor as he looked around. "Like our new room?", Sean asked and scanned the large frat leader's apartment. "Our room?", Brock questioned as he looked up to Sean's face. He would have sworn that the guy looked bigger than he did during their 'meet' in the locker room in the hoodie he was now wearing. "Yep. I've selected ya to be my roommate", Sean answered. "But… but… Brad and I…", Brock stuttered. "He's no member of our frat any more", Sean stated, "new leader new rules." Brock looked up into Sean's eyes and noticed the malevolent glow. His gaze travelled down as his now huge rival unbuttoned his pants. "Ya know what to do, B.", Sean rumbled as he lowered his jeans and yanked down his boxers. His left paw roughly stroked his flaccid cock a few times and then released the meaty dick and was placed on his left hip. Brock was mesmerized by the fleshy snake that was swelling right in front of him. His eyes widened as the veins along the shaft pumped blood into the hardening schlong that thickened and lengthened past the size he remembered from the locker room. "Fuck. That's bigger than mine ever was", he peeped in awe as his rival's manhood attained its 11'5 inches of vein-coiled, thick meat. He took a step towards the huge man and kneeled in front of him, the dark red head of the rock-hard dick pointing straight at his face. He opened his mouth as wide as possible and took in the thick head. "Mwuhhn yeah", Sean growled in pleasure as the hot, wet feeling engulfed his 11'5 incher. His rival's rumbling baritone vibrated inside Brock's meager, 80 pound body. Knowing he was pleasing the huge athlete, he took more of the meaty manhood in his mouth. Six inches disappeared inside him, stretching his lips tight around the splay shaft, and his mouth was filled. He let his tongue caress and discover the veins and surface of the dick. "Mwuh. Fuck", Sean groaned, "Ya like sucking off the alpha male of the team, don’t ya B-boy?". Brock couldn't nod so he looked up but the pecs that pushed out the hoodie obscured his view of his huge rival's face. So he continued his suction on the rock-hard shaft. His frail hands reached for the tree-sized quads for support, grabbing hold of the unbelievably hard muscles to steady his body. "Yeah", Sean grunted and his cock throbbed inside the tiny mouth. He felt his thick balls churn and grabbed the back of the frail guy's head with his right paw. He shoved him hard into his 275 pound body, the guy's nose smacking against his eight-pack beneath the grey hoodie. "YEAUGHN!", he boomed as his balls exploded and blasted out the first heavy load through his 11'5 incher. Brock shivered as the beastly roar of pleasure echoed through the room and rattled his bones. He gagged as the lengthy snake was shoved hard into his throat and began releasing its thick juices. He gulped down as fast he could but the juices kept coming and quickly filled his mouth. He coughed and cum dripped from the corners of his mouth, oozing along his shin. His vision began going black as a fifth and sixth load erupted from the cock and cum even leaked from his nose. Sean felt the small guy go limp and withdrew from his mouth, blasting a final load into his tiny rival's face. "Even better than the last time", he said as he let the frail guy fall to the floor and wandered off into the bedroom.

Ryan Finally Gives it to His Friend Please feel free to tell me what you think! I am planning on writing other stories, and maybe a sequel to this one if people want it. Hope you enjoy it! Mike and I had always been friends since as far as I could possibly remember. From when we were kids to now in college at the age of 20, we did everything together, from doing homework to going to parties. But, there is one big thing that we don’t do together…well we did at first. We started working out at around the age of 15, but Mike could never really get into it. I kept trying to push him into going to the gym, but in the end I kept going and he didn’t. Periodically when he saw my results he would try again, but nothing, it just wasn’t for him. I’m not going to lie though; my muscle growth has definitely turned me into a cocky bastard. I’ve always loved the fact that Mike has become increasingly jealous of my ever growing body. It all started with random little jokes about my incoming abs and pecs. Then, as my muscles really started to get massive, I could tell that he definitely hated it. We use to be on the same level, but now with my god-like physique we both knew who was in charge. But I soon realized that there was something more than jealousy…that little fucker so has the hots for me now. I think I first noticed it one time when I took him to the gym and I was finally confident enough with my sculpted muscles that I went shirtless. I loved showing off my body, and when I looked at Mike’s face, he definitely liked that I did too. We had walked over to the bench press where I had asked him to spot me—or at least try too—so I could work on these sexy huge pecs. By this point we were long into the workout so not only were my muscles pumped to the max but the sweat made them glisten and shine. If we’re being honest I probably looked like a fucking porn star, which Mike must have noticed. As I lifted the massive amount of weight up and down I realized that Mike couldn’t take his eyes off my flexing body. You could just see that he was so turned on and practically drooling over the body I had worked to so hard to craft. Ever since then I have seen him continually sneak a peek at my body whenever we hang out or do something. It’s kind of sad how much he wants to play with my ripped muscles, but a part of me completely understands his need to worship a god. Skinny little bitches like him aren’t my type, but maybe I should make his day, who knows it could be fun. I’ve been looking for a regular fuck toy anyways, so it could probably work out. When I’m not growing more and more muscle, or ripping apart some hot ass, I do get bored. What the heck, let me play with him a little when he comes over later… “Hey Ryan! How’s life man?” He said as I opened the door to let him in. “I’m doing alright just got back from the gym you know,” I said as I flexed my right bicep as hard as I could. As he walked in to sit down on the couch he couldn’t take his eyes off me…I had to stop myself from laughing. But I was honestly surprised that he didn’t faint right then and there as I started to flex my left bicep. “How’s my body looking by the way I feel like I’m getting bigger and bigger every fucking day man,” I said as I did a side chest pose that almost ripped my shirt open. “Umm…uh…yeah you do look bigger…maybe…I guess” he said nervously, almost trying to put on a smile while trying not to stare for too long. “Maybe huh…,” I said chuckling preparing to push this little guy even more. Before he could say anything I proceeded to take my shirt off to flex and bounce my pecs. Fucking Mike couldn’t even handle what was going on, all he could do was look at my body in complete amazement. Then I walked up to him and flexed my bicep right in his face. “Want to touch it?” “What…” Mike said shyly. “Yeah come on, tell me how hard it is,” I said as I grabbed his hand and placed it around my bicep. That’s when I noticed it, as he began to play with my bicep I could see a boner starting to grow in his pants. Now we were getting somewhere… “Wow Ryan,” he gulped. “You really are big.” “You fucking know it,” I said, “bet you wish you had a body like this, but something tells me you’ll settle for worshipping me instead.” Mike immediately looked at me with a shocked appearance on his face, “what, what are you talking about?” That was when I quickly moved my hand to grab his growing little hard on, which caused Mike to let out a loud moan. “Let’s stop kidding ourselves,” I said, “I know you’ve been into me for a long time now. But, hey, I’m feeling generous today, so why don’t you just fucking enjoy it?” As I continued to stroke his cock over his pants, Mike started to play with my bicep again and actually started to lick it. “At a boy Mike, at a boy. Look at you, god, it’s like you can’t help yourself.” I was right…giving Mike free rein he started to lick my sculpted abs as he felt up my massive pecs. As he did so I continued to stroke his tiny cock, which by this point was as hard as it was going to get. I also made sure to flex each and every one of my muscles for him—it was funny to see that Mike was easily in Heaven having the time of his little weakling life. But it looked like I had finally found someone to worship these muscles like they were meant to be. Mike just couldn’t keep his hands and tongue off of me, and even though I stopped playing with his dick that little bitch kept moaning louder and louder. “How are you liking this body Mike,” I said as I pushed him back onto the couch. “Oh my god Ryan,” he said breathing heavily, “you’re a fucking god, a muscle beast, a sex machine, and I need you, I need your body, please…” I laughed as I let him get back to playing with my muscles, but before I knew it that little nerd started to cum. He laid back onto the couch as the wet spot on his pants started to grow bigger and bigger. But I wasn’t done yet, it was time for me to have some of my own fun. As his dick finally started to finish I ripped my pants and underwear off. Not only could you now see my amazing ass and huge muscular legs, but I also revealed my monster sized cock to Mike. As I did this Mike’s jaw dropped to the ground as his eyes almost popped out of his head. I don’t think the little guy had ever been in the presence of such a real fucking man. I wanted to see what I was fully working with so I easily grabbed him off the couch and ripped his clothes off of him. This time I actually couldn’t control my laughter as what I was looking at was the skinniest little nerd I had ever seen, it was honestly pathetic. As I laughed I could see that Mike had gotten super self-conscious, but his cock didn’t lie, he was enjoying every minute of this. Our size difference was incredible…while I looked like a god among men ready to fuck anything and everything in sight, Mike looked like a kid next to me. “This is crazy,” Mike said embarrassed as he tried to cover himself up a little. “You look like a sex god Ryan,” he said breathing heavily, “I’ve always dreamt of this, I meant that…your body is massive, I look like a twig compared to you…show me how powerful you are, make me the bitch you know I am.” Laughing to myself, but kind of getting hard and turned on by what he was saying, I grabbed his head and rammed my giant cock into his mouth. Holding him in place I was skull fucking his little mouth as hard as I could without breaking his jaw. I was in such pleasure as my cock went in and out, in and out, over and over again. Mike was definitely enjoying himself as he also started to play with my balls and rub my abs. When I looked down I could also see that his dick was hard again and close to exploding. “Damn Mike…looks like you know how to suck some dick,” I said as I started to moan with my cock getting really close. All I could do was fuck his pretty little mouth harder and harder as he worshipped all of the muscles on my body that he could get his little hands on. Before I knew it my cock started to let out stream after stream of cum in his mouth, with Mike’s dick starting to cum shortly after. I removed my cock from his mouth after he was having some trouble swallowing the cum and proceeded to finish off on his face. “Wow that was…incredible,” was all Mike could say as he was breathing heavily. He then started to lick up the rest of the cum that he fallen to the ground from his mouth and face. That little fucker was having the time of his life worshiping my body, but we were just getting started. “Get that ass ready Mike,” I said smiling, “looks like you’re going to be my fuck toy for the rest of the night…and for the near future.” I could see how turned on he was by what I had just said, so I eagerly picked him up off the floor ready to have some more fun with him in the bedroom. I’m pretty dumb for not having thought of this sooner, but I was ready to make up for lost time.

Six Mike slowly awoke and groggily shook his head. He looked down and patted his still slightly bloated six-pack. He got up and pulled on his boxers. The sound of the door opening made him turn around. Keith, the frat leader, had made it to the frat house earlier than he expected and barged into the guest room. He noticed the half naked, muscled guy standing in the center of it and stepped right up to him. "Get out of my frat house now!", he said. Mike looked at the athlete standing right in front of him. The guy looked like his copy: exactly as tall and perhaps a few pounds heavier. Keith poked the unknown guy in the chest as he repeated: "Get out or else…". "Or else what?" The thundering bass made Keith jump up and turn around. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the most massive man he'd ever seen. Tristan stepped into the room, his wide shoulders brushing the side of the door as he walked through it sideways, and closed the distance between him and Keith with two long strides. He grabbed the front of the guy's sweater with his right paw and lifted him up like a ragdoll. Keith felt his feet dangling in the air as his 165 pound body was lifted in the air. He grabbed the thick paw and tried breaking free. Tristan felt the familiar tingling sensation on his paw as the smaller guy's fingers touched him. Surprised by the pleasant feeling, he released his hold letting the 165 pound swimmer fall down. Keith crashed down on the floor but quickly stood up. He raised his arms in a protective stand to hold off the beastly teen. As he brought up his fists, the sleeves of his sweater sagged and exposed his lower arms. Tristan noticed the uncovered skin and swiftly made his move. He grabbed the 120 pound smaller guy, his thick fingers touching as his paws totally encircled the thin lower arms. The instant his paws made contact with the bare skin the tingling sensation returned. "Yeaghn", he grunted as he felt the warmth flowing into his 284 pound body. His dick jolted and ripped away the towel. Keith felt a strange weakness come over his muscles. Ignoring the feeling, he tried pulling free from the vice-like grip but the 120 pound heavier teen didn't budge. His eyes widened in awe as he looked down and saw the thick 12 incher that had just ripped away the towel. "Ow yeah", Tristan groaned as he felt his huge muscles fill with energy and push against his tanned, paper-thin skin as they grew. Mike stared in disbelief at the incredible scene. His dick sprung back to full hardness in his boxers. His hand instinctively reached down, grabbed the hard 6 incher and began stroking it. Keith felt more and more fatigue in all his muscles. He would have sworn that the huge teen was slowly growing: it was if his muscles were pushing up his tanned skin and more veins snaked along and across the mounds of meat. Blaming his blurred vision on the ever increasing weakness, he blinked his eyes a few times to refocus. He summoned every ounce of strength and pulled with all his remaining might the break free. The paws around his lower arms didn't move and the grip even seemed to get harder. He noticed some movement at the open door and recognized Sean. "Help me, Sean", he said in a tired voice. Sean had just come from humiliating his former rival in the gym. As he entered the frat house, he'd heard deep, rumbling grunts echoing through the deserted hallways. He'd followed the sound and arrived at the guest room. He moved into the open doorway and stared at the sight: his frat leader was grabbed by the most massive man he'd ever seen, who seemed lost in pleasure according to his lengthy dick that was smacking against his eight-pack; to the side a lean, yet muscular guy stood jerking off at the scene. "Come on. Get me free, Sean", Keith pleaded once more in an even weaker voice. By now, he'd lost a good 30 pounds of muscle. Sean moved inside the room and grabbed the insanely thick wrists of the teen beast. He pulled with all his might but it was no use: the guy was simply too strong. A strange tingle went through his hands as he touched the hot flesh. Tristan opened his eyes as he felt the extra tingling sensation and looked at the heavily muscled football player pulling at his wrists. Sean knew he was no match for the teen and broke his hold. He hurried out of the room and rushed to his own room. Tristan felt the tingling sensation slowing down and looked at the guy in his grasp: the swimmer had lost every visible muscle on his body and looked like an emaciated boy. Energy whirled through his own huge body as his skin was stretched tightly across his insanely big muscles. "Who was that?", he asked Keith. Keith didn't react. He was sinking away in darkness by the fatigue. Tristan shook the frail body in his grasp. "Who was that? Tell me!", he boomed again. 'S…s…Sean", Keith mumbled weakly. "Where's his room?," Tristan asked. "…F…2…", Keith replied with his last remains of energy and sank away in a dark sleep. Tristan fell the transfer come to an end and tossed the now 85 pound swimmer into the hallway like a feather. He turned around and saw that Mike had slumped down onto the mattresses and that his six-pack was stained with his cum. "Get cleaned up, man", he boomed as he left the room in search of his next prey, his half hard cock slapping against his meaty quads. Brock got up from the cold, tilled floor in the locker room. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized he'd lost everything he got: he was no longer the number one on the team and without his muscles he would be kicked off the team. He knew that Brad would spend the night at Emily's so he decided to go to their old room and avoid the frat house. In his room Sean was trying to process what he'd just witnessed. "Who the hell was that guy?", he asked himself as he put on his favorite baseball stringer. The white fabric hung loosely around his 210 pound body. He jumped up as the door of his room flew open. Tristan strutted into the room and looked down into the brown eyes of the muscular football player. Now standing 6'4, he towered over the 5'7 guy. Energy was still coursing through his beastly body after draining the frat leader. "Who are you?", Sean asked as the beastly, fully naked teen took a step in his direction. He considered punching the guy's stomach but the sight of the deeply grooved eight-pack made him reconsider. "I'm Tristan, Brad's brother", Tristan replied. He scanned the muscular athlete and his dick jolted at the thought of the extra size he could drain. Without hesitating, he grabbed the muscular forearms like he had done with Keith. Instantly, the tingling sensation erupted where his fingers touched the bare skin. "Dude, let go", Sean said and tried braking free. A strange feeling seeped into his skin as the big paws closed around his forearms. Tristan felt the energy whirling inside his beastly body and flowing into his tree-sized arms. It felt like somehow the warmth was leaving him and going into the football player. He looked into the guy's brown eyes and saw a look of pleasure. "What the fuck?!", he boomed. Sean felt a nice, relaxing heat spread from his forearms into his biceps and into the rest of his 210 pound body. If was like a pump from a good workout but all over his body. Tristan looked in disbelief as he saw more veins emerge around the now clearly swelling muscles on Sean's arms and shoulders. Sean followed the beastly teen's gaze. His mouth opened as he stared at his own growing arms. "How…?", he groaned as another wave of energy hit him. His dick hardened in his pants as he felt his muscle swell with new mass. Tristan saw how the football player's muscles were starting to fill the once baggy baseball stringer. The guy's pecs were pushing the fabric forward while his widening back pulled it backward. His strong shoulders were now forming a wide line capped with thick, round delts. He even noticed that he didn't have to look as far down to stare in the guy's eyes. A third wave of energy hit Sean and another jolt went through his muscles. "Yeaughn", he moaned as his dick exploded inside his pants. Instantly, the transfer of energy came to an end. Tristan felt the tingling sensation stop and withdrew his hands that had been fused to the other guy during the transfer. He looked down to inspect his physique and noticed that he hadn't lost a pound of muscle. He was still the 300 pound powerhouse he'd been since he'd drained Keith. The incredible energized feeling was gone though. A tearing sound made him look away from his own majestic body. Sean inhaled deeply and his newly grown, massive pecs busted through the baseball stringer. He peeled away the ripped remains to reveal his heavily muscled torso. "Hell yeah!", he groaned as his hands roamed the cobbled surface of his eight-pack and cupped the meaty masses that protruded from his chest. He looked up at the beastly teen in front of him and noticed the guy still had a good 25 pounds of muscle on him. Tristan took in the sight and noticed how the guy's huge arms were nearly as big as his own 30 inch canons and clearly outsized his other muscles. "How did you make me grow?", Sean asked as he folded his arms in front of his thick chest, striations exploding across the meaty pecs as his hard biceps pushed into them. A grin formed on his face as he heard his new, deepened voice. "I… I don't really know", Tristan replied. "Don't bullshit me, man", Sean said in an angry tone as testosterone rushed through his 275 pound body, "I saw you steal Keith's muscles and grow bigger. Why did I gain muscle from you?". "Must be some part of the prophecy I missed", Tristan replied and explained what he had discovered so far. "I never cummed into that chalice, so that must be why you can't take my muscles", Sean stated as his mind processed the information, "But I can't drain muscles from the other guys. I've touched several of them during practice and never felt that tingle." Tristan nodded while he stared at the massively muscled football player. "I've got a special birthmark shaped like a star. According to the legend that's why I can drain muscle from those guys and you can't. But I don't get how muscle can transfer from me to you", he said. "Very strange", Sean replied, "but I sure can live with this new situation. Fuck! I rule the football team now! Why don't we work together?". "How?", Tristan asked. "Well, you and you friend can't stay here. You guys are no students here", Sean answered, "but we could make a deal: you back me up to become frat leader. In return I'll make both you guys honorary members. Then you can stay here. I could even convince the coach to give you a spot on the team next year. Deal?" He extended his hand. Tristan looked at the hand. Sean noted the doubt in the beastly teen's eyes. "I could help you find out who else cummed in the chalice. Does some extra muscle sweeten the deal?", he asked with a grin. Tristan nodded, grabbed the guy's hand and shook it. To his relief he felt no tingling sensation. "Deal", he boomed in his deep bass and clenched his hand, making the other guy feel that he was the bigger man.

A N L A C O M P L E X ' S T A L E Attila strolled through the large hallways of the world-famous Galleria dell’ Accademia, barely acknowledging the history-making artwork surrounding him. But neither did the hundreds of lucky visitors that were crowding the place: they all had eyes on the greatest objet d’art than mankind would ever produce, him. Standing at 15 feet high, more than 3,000 pounds of raw muscles hulking out of his clothes, with a handsome face to top the whole package, his presence was unmistakable—from the rumbling of the walls with every one of his mighty steps to the potent musky smell of his sweat. People barely reached up above his knees, with for eye-level sight his packed grey-jogging. It had been sewed too large three days ago, but he was now filling it more than nicely, the obscene outline of his impossible cock quite visible along his right quad. From behind, his boulder ass popped out of the fabric of the jogging, tensing it to its limit. The 21-year-old Adonis looked downright godly, the massive Greek statues almost anemic next to him. The crowd worshipped him in silence, none daring to interact directly with him. A sizable mass was now following every one of his movements, his visit much more historic than any of the paintings that hugged the wall. Attila stood captivated by his own stature, engrossed by how puny his meaningless worshippers were and how he dwarfed both in size and beauty any piece inhabiting this “museum”. He was getting high on the feeling of power that inhabited him, a feeling he had grown accustomed to—he could feel his mighty cock getting engorged with blood at the thought of his dominance, and he groped his massive package in appreciation. Even to him, it felt incredibly big, almost wrongly so… Flashes went off there and here. Not only were all eyes on him, but all cameras too. There wouldn’t be a single photo taken of the art today; all were of his marvelous body. The guards had tried to enforce the “no-flash” rule, but it had proven to be impossible. Pictures of him were flooding social media and were starting to take over the news. His presence and his growth over the last few weeks had been surprisingly quite discreet—this was surely his first public appearance since the press conference a week ago his parents had held for him broking the 10-foot barrier. Little did he know, but there was a staggering waiting line at the entry of the museum for a Monday morning: after seeing his pictures on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or on the local news, thousands had gathered and were trying to get in; if just only to get a glimpse of him. His presence was noticeable in many ways. As he was wandering through the diminished galleries, his manly smell was filling the whole place, overpowering every little shrimp in the building. It was the fragrance of a true male, a true god amongst men… It was even more so pungent for the people closer to him, as they found themselves at equal distance from his sweaty black snickers and from his murky groin. It was oddly endearing, stripping the tiny onlookers of the little virility they still had after laying eyes upon his all-powerful body. It was almost mesmerizing: they found themselves desiring to serve him, to feel diminished next to their new god—a feeling so powerful that no one could escape it… He finally reached the piece he had been seeking since he had arrived: he had not made this trip simply out of generosity to help the museum with its diminishing ticket sale, but rather to show the world something, to send a clear message through the demonstration he intended to make in a few minutes. At the end of the hallway was the unmistakable masterpiece of Michelangelo, David. The massive marble statue was a sight to behold, its model the ultimate embodiment of manliness. Well. The penultimate to be more precise, since the staggering growth spurt of Attila. While the definition on the David was wonderful, especially on his knotty slightly oversized hands and feet, it was nothing compared to the sheer mass of Attila. And as he got closer, this was becoming quite evident to anyone standing in the room… The crowd had gathered en masse around the statue, seeing the subject of all visits today approaching it with renowned interest. As he entered the large room hosting the masterpiece, he couldn’t help but feel a slight appreciation for Michelangelo’s work. It was the best a mere mortal’s imagination could produce… It had been mankind’s best shot at creating an idol for manliness: the best our limited minds could produce. But Attila had known no bound in his need for power; as many had thought he had reached the limits of his body, his next growth spurt had proven them wrong every single time. There was no bound to his ability to get bigger, and he knew it entirely. People were not ready to accept it yet: he was only getting started. Soon, the statue would be of no more interest to people than was a speckle on the tiles of the floor was. David’s torso was a thing of beauty; there was denying that. But it was completely overshadowed by the insane volume of Attila. His shoulders were twice as large, his back a sea of sturdy muscles that made the statue look featureless. His biceps made the ones of David look like little twigs that he could snap in half with his fingers. The most prominent feature of Michelangelo’s work, his hands, paled in comparison to the giant’s ones. They looked powerful, almost frightening knowing the power they could unleash; how he could crush to paste in his fist a living man’s head with ease. The comparison, of course, was far from stopping here. But it was more than enough to introduce the show he was about to put on. Indeed, David, once the universal standard for virility and manliness, looked like nothing but a feeble immature little boy next to Attila. As he got within feet of the symbol, there were gasps in the ever-growing audience. Thanks to its pedestal, the statue was standing a head above the young giant; without it, it would have barely reached his pecs. This offered the statue a few more minutes of somewhat decency, as its flimsy marble was otherwise completely dwarfed by Attila’s lively muscles. He stood here for a second, sizing it up, somewhat hesitant about how to better show his unquestionable superiority. He could, of course, just wreck it to dust here and there—but this would be so trivial… Such a petty act would fail to convey the full message he wanted to send today. There was a hectic feeling in the room. Hundreds of smartphones were popping everywhere, the crowd filming and streaming on the web what they knew was going to redefine the course of history. Everybody had the almost dire apprehension that something memorable was coming. Yet, nobody could quite tell why they had that feeling or what was going to happen. Attila was in full control of the situation, the crowd mesmerized by every twitch from his body. There was no doubt news casters all around the country were starting to pick up on his appearance at the museum, commenting every subtle detail they could find. His choice of appearing alongside Michelangelo’s David had been understood by all as conveying a powerful and deep message. But he was gonna do more than just stand by it: he was gonna give them a show; the show of their lives. “And you came from all over the world to see … that?!” his deep baritone boomed, as he pointed at David in disgust. At the first word coming out of his mouth, all murmurs had stopped, the whole Galleria now dead silent, his voice echoing infinitely inside the building. He walked ceremoniously around the statue, his deliberately slow powerful steps making the whole room rumble. He gobbed, sending a massive loogie on David’s ridiculous dick—bringing the crowd’s attention to how minuscule it looked, especially compared to the python looming in his jogging. Sizing down the statue, he felt a now too common feeling of power inhabiting him, inhabiting every fiber of his dense muscle. The crowd below looked so … so meaningless to him. They were weak, irrelevant and pathetic. They were a bunch of deplorables. He could all wipe them out on a whim if it pleased him… And the worse? They would certainly like it—they would enjoy every minute of him crushing them to death under his sweaty soles. He groped his dick in appreciation, realizing how massive it had grown from the excitement. There was an obscene, downright pornographic, unmissable tent in his jogging but he cared very little; all the more so, he liked it. It would only remind the so-called men below of how puny they were next to his mightiness. He stopped in front of the David, removing his sweat-drenched black tank-top. There were clear exclamations from the crowd as he reveled his tight eight-pack—or was it a ten-pack? —, defined beyond the imaginable. There wasn’t a single pound of fat on his stomach, each of his cobblestone-like abs popping a few inches out of his stomach. His proportions were quite simply beyond perfection. Contrary to many bodybuilders, his stomach hadn’t become bloated from steroid overuse; it was simply packed with dense muscles. His waist was barely half the size of his boulder like shoulders, giving a clear V-shape to his knotty back. As he removed the shirt further, his sea of abs became alive with his further movements, his oblique a reminder to all men watching that they had such muscles hiding under their disgusting layers of fat. The spectacle was enthralling. Women wetted themselves on the spot from such a godly sight, while many men surprised themselves with the most massive boner they had ever felt. “You look all so puny.” He commented, sending shivers down the spines of everyone watching, as he seized the crowd down, now standing shirtless. Bare-chested, his bulging pecs were now fully visible. They looked like two massive balloons, each larger than a small fridge, their striations only highlighting the density and the tightness of his unbelievable chest. The gap in between them looked big enough for a grown man’s leg to fit in, a further reminder of the astonishing size difference between himself and every other man that had ever walked this Earth. Furthermore, there was no possible comparison between his torso and David’s. They looked as if they came from different species, Attila’s mass and symmetry unmatched by even the most ambitious carvings of Michelangelo. The upper-body envisioned he had envisioned looked fragile, if not flabby, as if he had lacked any ambition in building the statue. Hundreds of years of reference in terms of manhood had been thrown away in a second, and no one would question today’s match winner. But the demonstration was far from finished. In fact, it hadn’t even started. Attila threw his sweat-drenched black tank top to the other end of the room, where it landed on some members of the audience. What was a tight piece of clothing to him was more than enough to cover a large queen-size bed, and the few trapped under his top had difficulties getting out, overwhelmed by its pungent smell. For the first time in their worthless lives, they experienced true bliss. Under this sweaty blanket, they found themselves stripped of any quality they might have had, stripped of their identities, reduced to their bare bones. Under his domination, they could experience their true self and find a common and unique purpose: to serve him, to their deaths if necessary. They were in raptures over his magnificent body, his infinite power… After seeking one for so long, they had found a true God. “Let me show you what a real man is made of.” And without further ado, he delighted the crowd to a posing show that would enter the history books. He started with a breathtaking front biceps pose. His upper arms looked like two dense balls of steel, his biceps peaking higher than the shoulders of a fully grown man were wide. There was more power and muscles in one of his arm than in anyone in the room. His shape was overshadowing the David, its shoulders and head barely visible above his, for the rest of its body was concealed by the impossibly wide wall of muscles that was his torso. His quads were popping out through the fabric of the jogging, hugging it incredibly tight. They were defined beyond reason, each stride of raw muscle packing more power and mass than a bodybuilder whole quads. This pushed his growing bulge forward, an obscene tent the unmistakable sign he was getting off the size difference between him and the dazed onlookers. His dick barely more than at full mast, it looked to be more than 23 inches long… And God, how thick that rod was! Feeling a good pump coming, he flexed harder, his cheese-grate abs popping even more, a spider of veins now appearing along his entire arms. He moved to a front lat spread, to showcase just how wide his shoulders were. There were gasps—barely audible under his groans—in the audience, as his back overshadowed the David even more. As he breathed in, his chest heaved bigger and bigger, like one would inflate a balloon. Each muscle fiber in his pecs were rock hard, packing unfathomable power. As he held the pose, the pump was getting more than noticeable, his already tremendous biceps having gained a few more inches of circumference. But perhaps, the most astonishing increase in size from blood-flow came from his cock… It was now getting close to being fully erect, and there was actually quite a noticeable tearing sound as it got fuller and fuller, the jogging slowly giving away under the combined strain of his diamond quads and his python cock. His bulge was getting so large that the people right below could barely see his stomach and abs; while his balloon-like chest concealed the view of his handsome smile for many others. Noticing that his muscles were so large they were impairing his vision, he couldn’t help but get even more stoked. The sight of his strapping body would be more than enough to send him over the edge… But he wanted for the audience to see more; to leave truly reduced to being nothing more but his foot slaves. Feeling close to what he wanted to achieve, his muscles bulging bigger by the second simply from the pump, he moved on to the next pose. Without warning, he stepped over with his right leg and planted his left leg behind, reaching a heart-stopping side chest pose. There were gasps of terrors as his 33 inches long Nike moved close to crush someone alive; for the few that hadn’t sprung to their feet in time, the slight brush had broken three of their ribs with ease. Yet, the crowd was transfixed by the show and did not even do more than slightly shudder. None dared to move, afraid of missing the upcoming spectacle: they were entirely at his mercy, engrossed by his cockiness. His body was now beyond any pump any bodybuilder could get; the veins on his biceps were dazzling, complimenting their singular round shape. His forearms were an intricate net of veins, his skin astonishingly tight on the strides of his muscles. From the blood filling them, his muscles had bulged noticeably bigger than they were when he had started flexing. The David behind looked featureless, paling in comparison to the liveliness, unfathomable mass and insane definition of Attila’s body. His move from one pose to another had sent a whiff of his smell filling the room, beads of sweats covering his body from the insane exertion. He was giving this show all he had, and it was showing; his muscles were tensed harder than ever, with an intensity many only thought a workout could lead to. The virile smell was only complimenting the visual show, enthralling everyone and putting the crowd in a trance like state. More tearing sounds from his over stretched jogging brought him back to reality for a second, away from his dreams of control and power. The super-pump had made his quads grow even further, pushing his pants far beyond their limits. His ass was the size of big boulder rock, with a perfect round shape—contrary to far too many bodybuilders, he hadn’t sacrificed aesthetics and symmetry for size: he had both! Even though his quads were of a thickness few could fully grasp, the bulge of his massive 30 inches erect endowment still managed to peak above them, the top of it drenched in smelly precum. His previously too large custom sweat pants were now looking more like tight Lycra ones; he had completely overgrown in a matter of days—without any growth spurt, yet! He threw back his head in ecstasy, moaning at the thought of his incredible growth and mighty body. This rattled the entire building, his deep growl putting the audience’s ears in pain; and yet, it was music to their ears. He had finally reached climax; not sexual climax, but one that was far more powerful and alarming for his surroundings… He could feel every single fiber in his body aching for more power, for more size; his gaze was blurred with vision of him growing bigger and bigger, dominating over entire cities; he felt his entire body push against its skin, his body pumped beyond belief, ready to explode with additional size. He was high on power, on strength—he was high on his need to grow bigger and stronger… And grow he was going to, without any brakes or restraints. “You wanted to see a real man?” he boomed, slowly turning his back to the crowd. There was a deluge of approbation that echoed throughout the entire museum—the place had been turned into more of a stadium by now, judging from the crowd behavior. The audience was hectic, entirely at his mercy and service. He laughed at the sound of their measly squeaks—it was music to his ears. Though, he had to take it slowly. His body was on the verge of erupting into the mother of all growth spurts, and he wanted to enjoy every second of it… He gently came to face the David, his massive back and boulder ass offered to the crowd. “You ready?” he enquired with a smirk on his face, jubilating from the thousands of gazes on his rock hard body, every muscle in his body more tensed than ever. The crowd started chanting his name rhythmically, with new found fervor. He started bringing up his knotty arms, slowly, carefully spreading his lats… He felt on the edge, power radiating through him with ever-increasing intensity, spasms simulating his tight muscles; he had never experienced something like that before: he felt more Godly than ever, capable of lifting and breaking mountains would he desire it. As he spread his lats wider and wider, a sea of muscles coming to life on his back, he could feel every single one of his muscles progressively locking, as if he was progressively engaging a massive piece of machinery through its different gears… He could feel every single muscle fiber in his body coming to life, the heat and the strain on every square inch of his tanned skin, his dick pulsating at full mast, ready to plow through anything. As his arms reached their position for a back double biceps pose, he felt the utmost climax coming, his entire body shivering at the thought of it. On the very edge of a historic moment, he had the choice: the dive into the haze of powerful radiating heat that obscured his feelings with thought of domination and power or to forever stand at its doorstep, basking in its vigorous blaze. In this very moment, he had the ability to change the course of history itself; to redefine what mankind was. For once and for all, he felt alive, in full control. As a smirk appeared on his face, he started to tense everyone of his muscles at once, slowly focusing on every fiber, every stride, every group of muscles, bringing his whole body back to life at once, into full gear… He delighted in the few seconds that passed as his veins began popping up all over his shredded body, time suspended for a moment… He could dive in, or stay here, in the bask of the radiating heat, filled with infinite pleasure. At last, he made his choice: “enough of these games” he thought and he let go of everything, diving in fully into the blaze of power, strength and dominance that awaited him. The era of Attila the giant had begun. His movement of spreading his lats, of expanding his back for his pose never stopped: as he flexed his powerful biceps with all of his might, his back kept on expanding, larger and larger, creeping outward at the rate of a few inches per second. His entire body began expanding, growing out in all directions. With every passing second, more mass was getting crammed into the ever-expanding peaks of his biceps, his pecs bulging further and further, his legs becoming longer and longer… “He is growing!” squeaked someone in the audience, as a common gasp of terror filled the building. But soon, everybody fell silent, transfixed by his impossible show; the ominous soundtrack to his unstoppable growth became the ramble of the ground as he was packing hundreds of pounds of muscles after hundreds, his jogging and Nike stretching to failure. This was the coming of a new God… He kept on holding the pose for a few more seconds, his head soon coming to eye-level with the puny David; he broke the 17-foot barrier as if it was nothing, now looking down on the statue. Its entirety was hidden by his ever-broadening back, while the pedestal was mostly concealed by his diamond quads, each wider than the statue itself. He took a step forward, the measly glass barrier below simply exploding on contact with his impossibly powerful legs. There were yelling of fear, but nobody moved an inch, even the ones right under him for whom the available space was diminishing with every second. His growth seemed to know no end, as his eyes were now gazing above the not-so-huge-anymore statue. The David looked like a flabby child next to him, with no feature to redeem itself. As if the comparison couldn’t get anymore diminishing for the masterpiece, his jogging started to get teared apart, the fabric exploding in between his two butt cheeks from the tension created by his ever-growing ass. He tensed up his muscles further, his quads exploding through the fabric with renowned strength and reducing it to pieces in seconds. As his jogging felt down on the puny onlookers below, it revealed his tight white boxers, which wouldn’t last for much longer either. The seams on their side had already exploded from his growing legs, leaving it to look like more of a teared apart jockstrap than anything else. His balls hung low between his legs, quite visible from behind, while his dick was tearing through the front of his boxers, leaving precum on the ground and on the pedestal of the statue. As his shoulders were starting to rise above the head of the David, he dropped the pose, relaxing back his muscles, his body covered with sweat. “Doesn’t like that big anymore, huh?” His voice took everyone aback; it was much deeper and powerful than before. The statue looked more than feeble now in front of him, as he was now oversizing it in every regard. If his biceps kept on expanding, they would soon be bigger than the torso of the David! But for now, his growth had tempered off—though it was hard for him to resist the envy for more size… He flicked his cock, annihilating the remaining of his boxers. The pungent pieces, imbibed with precum, fell on a poor guy below who quite simply collapsed down from the overwhelming smell. Attila barely noticed—he was more occupied relinquishing his massive body and comparing it with the piece of art he had put out of fashion. Each of his pec was actually larger than was the entire upper torso of the statue! He had grown seriously huge with his previous growth spurt, weighing now in excess of 7,500 pounds, more than two big sedans put together! And the strength he was packing was downright scary: he could blow right through the statue if he wanted to, and he wouldn’t even leave with as much as a bruise! The audience could now admire freely his uncovered legs, each as big as a tree trunk, each an incredible powerhouse of raw strength. His quads were now longer and far larger than a human being, but made of impenetrable thick muscle; they could easily crush to dust a car, which was telling regarding what it could do to a human… People now stood well below his knees; they faced calves that were bigger than them, covered with a slight fur of blonde hair. They lead to his massive feet, each almost three feet in length! His Nike hadn’t given in yet; but they were visibly distorted, with the laces starting to pop out; there wasn’t much doubt they would soon simply explode, liberating his incredible feet. He wondered about what to do next for a second; destroy the statue? Nah. He had an ever better idea in mind… He turned around, revealing his 45 inches cock to the public. There were gasps in the audience, for the rod was quite obscene: veins were snaking along it, and it was leaking precum at a steady rate, spilling it all over the floor. People actually took a step back, terrified by the monster; but they found themselves oddly attracted to it, in dire need of getting a closer look. They wanted to feel it, to stroke it, to lick it… It was an object of desire, of absolute worship: the ultimate embodiment of manliness. Even to his proportions, it was oddly huge. “You like that thing?” he enquired with a smirk, knowing very well the answer. He dreamt of plowing it right through someone, but there was no one alive that could handle such a massive endowment; he would just split them up in the second he would thrust his monster in them. And while the idea certainly fascinated him, even excited him, he had no time for these games. He started stroking his cock with one of his hands, unable to resist the temptation. The feeling of fullness it had sent shivers down his spine: it felt so massive, so powerful… His giant hand could barely cover a quarter of it and he couldn’t even close it around his shaft—it was that thick! As he rubbed it, more precum started loudly falling out, forming a growing puddle on the ground. The scent of it was thick and was starting to fill the room quickly; it acted as an incredible aphrodisiac on all the people here. Some of them couldn’t even stop it and started jacking it right here, on the spot, while the less resilient just climaxed on the sight of his unfathomable endowment. He started moaning loudly, getting off once again on his perfect body. As he realized his dick was half the size of a grown man, he started losing himself in his dreams of power and dominance again… He could see himself towering over the entire city, crushing buses under his relentless sole, his dick by then far larger than a train wagon. And as he would flex his hill-sized biceps, he would grow more and more, endlessly, his head above the cloud, the entire city under his smelly feet… The whole world would belong to him, mankind reduced to serve him. He would reign as a merciless God, ready to crush anyone who dared not comply with his superior demands. He felt overwhelmed by the sight, now on the verge of cumming… But he was suddenly brought back to reality. What brought him back to reality made him explode in deafening laughter seconds later, the walls rumbling hard. He looked at David’s dick—or more exactly speckle—the thing barely bigger than his thumb’s nail. He gazed back at his overwhelming endowment, exploding with renowned laughter. People had to cover their ears in pain, but he kept laughing and laughing, unable to fathom the ridiculousness of the statue microscopic endowment. “And you dare call that a man!” he was able to muffle through his laughter, his abs heaving rhythmically with each burst of laughter. The idol had been truly ridiculoused, from head to toe… There was nothing more to redeem from it. It was now time for him to show off his new path and introduce his era—to become a true Godly idol. “Let me show you…” he started to flex his abdominal muscles, the wall they were forming getting tighter and tighter by the second… He raised his massive arms behind his head, his triceps exploding with size as he did so, his massive arms almost brushing his cheeks… He gazed at the minuscule crowd below with a smirk, and flexed hard, harder than ever before. His body wasted no time in reacting to his demand for additional size; it was time to resume the growth spurt, and quickly. And this time, there would be no more pit stops on the way to becoming a true giant. His growth kicked into high gear almost immediately, his body expanding again rapidly. But this time, everyone was keen to notice that something was different: he was growing much more quickly than ever before, his muscles expanding at a worrying rate. Suddenly, the top of the statue barely came to his nipple, the puny shrimps below finding themselves having to expand the circle around him so as not to get crushed. His shoes exploded in the following seconds, unable to contain his ever-growing feet. A wave of their pungent sweaty smell hit everyone in the room, for they had been kept trapped for hours into the tight shoes. His toes were now expanding quickly outward, and he wiggled them in appreciation, only worsening the virility-stripping smell. Each of them was nearly as big as a head, their shape surprisingly enticing for the people around them. Indeed, many felt the need to go lick clean his dirty soles, but this would be a death wish seeing how fast they were growing. His ominous manly smell was far too endearing and mesmerizing for anyone in the room to resist. It was a mixture of sweat and precum mixed with a powerful whiff from his soles, and while this would usually be disgusting, coming from him, it was the embodiment of manliness and virility. His worshippers relinquished in its salty taste, feeling voodooed by its nuances. They felt compelled, oddly drawn by his stinky sole and his deep, drenched in sweat, hairy pits. With every breath they were taking, they were further stripped of their identity and consequently reduced to being nothing but his toys; they finally felt at ease in their position of inferiority, having nothing to prove, and being finally able to embrace their worthlessness. His growth seemed impossible to stop. He was enthralled by the high he was getting from seeing his surroundings shrinking, as the puny humans around him were becoming more and more like rodents. He couldn’t care less about them anymore; if they were to die under his feet, so was it, for he was now their almighty and all-powerful God. He brought one of his arms up and flexed his massive ball of a biceps… “AM I EVER SO HUGE!” He boomed in appreciation of his size, flexing even harder his arm. The effects of that gratuitous flex were instantaneous, kicking his growth in an even higher gear. He seemed to defy all laws of physics, his stature expanding larger and larger, the ground rumbling from the weigh he was packing every second. They watched powerlessly as his calves heaved higher and higher, each larger than the statue. The tallest in the crowd were barely coming to half their length by now! His torso had been affected by a similar increase in size; fully grown men could now sit on his massive traps, and his back looked as if you could build a bungalow onto it. His flexed biceps was peaking higher and higher by the second—it was now larger than the entire Michelangelo’s statue and still increasing in size steadily. Its round shape was of indescribable perfection, its growing strides and striations creating mesmerizing patterns. He was watching it grow with passion, enthralled to flex harder with every passing second, fueling his growth even further. Each row of abs was now passing one after another the top of the David, each abs the size of a household fridge, only much sturdier and fuller. He was truly becoming a giant… Soon enough, he had more than doubled his original size: he was standing at 40 feet tall, close to the arches leading to the surrounding hallways, the top of the statue barely coming up to his waist. He had blown the 55,000 pounds mark, bigger than five massive pickup trucks. And with every second, he was only getting bigger, with no plan to stop. He readjusted his stance, sending a few people to the ground with his massive leg. To him, it barely felt like brushing against a twig. To them, it felt like a wall had hit them at full speed—and they suffered from heavy internal bleeding and many fractures. As he slammed his foot into the ground, the entire building rumbled, plaster falling from the ceiling and precious paintings falling to the ground. He was becoming a true giant, one that could grow endlessly at will… He smiled at the thought of his newly found destructive abilities—and he had barely tried! His feet, much like his dick, were now bigger than a fully grown adult! He could certainly crush entire cars under his feet, without doing as much as exerting any pressure—heck, he could certainly flatten a tank if he wanted! His destructive power knew no bound and was increasing by the very second, with no one able to do anything to stop him! The reality that a new order for things had been set today escaped to no one in the room; the extent to which this growth spurt was redefining history hit everyone, be they in the Galleria or watching him on TV, at home. They were now gazing at him fearfully, afraid of what was to come next. Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he started masturbating his massive rod with one of his powerful arms. It answered by growing even more erect, the firehose sized veins increasing in number all over it. Many of the people standing in the room were getting covered with the young Adonis precum; he was simply too big to keep sharing this room without them getting somewhat dirty. As he stroked his massive member, he flexed his massive chest and reduced his abs to a heart-stopping vacuum, furthering his growth even more. He felt overcome with delight as his growth rate increased even further. With every breath he was taking, his upper torso heaved bigger and bigger, each pecs large enough to park a car on them. The cleavage in between them was now big enough for a whole human being to fit in, and he could surely crush them to paste if he was to flex them as someone stood there. There was no sign of slowing down; if anything, his growth spurt was accelerating. His head passed the arches separating the room from the three hallways leading into it. He looked up and saw the glass dome above, standing at 60 feet high—a barrier he would soon break. He couldn’t even see most of the room’s floor under his massive pecs! His dick was now looming above the David, and each of his stroke only made him bigger and bigger. He felt as if he could continue all day long, being far from having exhausted this growth spurt, untapped potential still available to him. Though, relaxing his abs, he decided he wanted to end this quickly; he was tired of this room that basically posed no challenge to him anymore. He wanted to get free, to get in the city and to roam freely on his new empire. He brought his two arms back up and moved into a final double biceps pose. His two fists were getting dangerously close to the glass ceiling and a movement of panic caused people to start hustling out of the room as they understood a shower of glass shards awaited them. Flexing his two biceps harder than ever, he threw his head back in ecstasy, his booming laugher erupting and rattling the building. His growth reached its apex speed; growing at almost a foot per second, his frame expanded further and further, his feet pushing against the trapped people below. As he wiggled his toe in pleasure, he could feel people getting snatched under them, condemned to getting crushed to death under his ever-growing sole. Many who had to suffer this fate considered it an honor they could have never hoped for; they would serve at his feet, licking his salty skin until their very last breath. His fists, each big enough to hold an entire human or to take away the statue as one would a small water battle, slammed into the ceiling; it shattered instantly, the shards bouncing off his impenetrable skin, not even making a dent in his massive body. There wasn’t a thing known to man that could hurt him now. Finally, the sun shined on his head, and the view of the Galleria and Florence started to clear. Reaching 65 feet, his shoulders exploding out of the building, people barely ankle high to him, he looked around to see that most of the buildings were smaller than him; he was now weighing more than 177 tons—twice an Abraham tank with weight to spare—and his strength was unfathomable. His demonstration had been more than successful: he was starting to feel satisfied with his new size, his torso large enough to build a family house upon, his biceps peaking higher than a human was tall and his traps just as tall. He looked at himself with contempt, delighted by every square inch of his body. Besides, he was starting to struggle with having his quads fit in the building… His growth started to tamper, just as it had come. A few courageous mind dared to reenter the room, where a mess of shard and plaster awaited them. The room had turned dark, for Attila massive body was shading it from the sun. The David was still standing in the middle of the room intact, if dusty and humiliated, surrounded by two massive calves which it barely reached three quarters of. His dick was actually longer and far larger than the statue itself, the ultimate testament of his insane domination over his surroundings. The way it hung from his shredded body seemed impossible, defying the laws of physics. They could barely see Attila’s head from here, as it was concealed by his massive muscles. He didn’t deign to take a look at the bugs below; their lives had little to no meaning to him—and he had come to peace with this idea. Afar, he could hear the police sirens and the buzzing of the arriving helicopters. His little stunt had steadily gained viewership over the last few minutes, so much that it was now displayed worldwide… “THIS BE A LESSON FOR YOU ALL,” his voice echoed through the entire neighborhood, rattling the windows and making deaf those right below. “MY POWER IS ENDLESS; MY STRENGTH KNOWS NO BOUND; AND MY NEED FOR SIZE IS INSATIABLE” the millions watching felt uneasy, parted between terror and admiration of the youthful giant. “FROM NOW ON,” he marked a pause for dramatic effect, “THIS IS MY KINGDOM AND YOU ARE MY SLAVES!” he boomed so strongly that windows broke all around the Galleria, in a strange chorus of annihilation and carnage. “LET THIS BE A SHOW OF WHAT IS TO COME…” he finally commented. Without a warning he pushed as hard as he could with his massive quads, jumping high into the air. Under the impulsion, the concrete of the ground below had quite simply imploded, unable to resist the staggering strength his legs were packing, the ground shaking from his jump. He folded his legs, his feet actually coming as high as he stood tall before, blowing to pieces more of the domed ceiling; he had just sent his 108-foot, 525 tons body high up in the sky, thanks to his insanely powerful quads. The feat seemed impossible, and yet, here he was, high in the sky. He seemed to hang in the air for long seconds, as the reality of what was to come stroke those below… “What goes up,” many started to think in the audience, “must comes down.” And if the going up part had caused some serious damage…

Five Brock awoke from a deep sleep. His frail body was hurting unlike he'd ever felt before: Brad had really pushed him to his limits during their workout yesterday. He'd tried helping his now 100 pound heavier friend, but he couldn't even lift Brad's warm up weights. By the end of the 2 hour gym session, he'd just sat on a bench watching Brad blast his chest. A hint of jealousy had gone through him when his buddy got up from the bench and flexed his pumped pecs in the mirror. "Ah, you're awake. How ya feeling, buddy?" Brad's voice made Brock look up. His 185 pound friend was only wearing a pair of boxers. A tingle went through his cock as he stared at the nicely muscled torso. "Sore allover", Brock replied, "I have never felt like this after a workout". "You went all out yesterday. Normal that your muscles are stiff. Just keep it up", Brad said and he sat down next to his buddy on his bed, "Here. Brought ya a shake". "Thanks", Brock said as he took the shake and admired his buddy's 17 inch arms. Brad noticed the stare and patted his friend's bony shoulder. "No worries, man. We'll built back yar size. Ready for another workout?", he asked to take Brock's mind off his frail body. "Nah. Feel like a bus hit me. I'm gonna let my muscles recover today", Brock said reluctantly as he remembered he was once able of working out three times a day. "You're right, man. But you'll have to come tomorrow", Brad stated. He got up from the bed and walked over to his closet to put on his training gear. "Catch ya later", he said and left the room. Tristan blinked his eyes a few times. A hand groping his left pec pulled him from his sleep. He looked aside and saw Mike roaming the wide surface of his mighty chest, the guy's hand looked comically small atop his thick pec. He felt the guy's hard cock poke against his huge quad. "Enjoying the feel?", he asked. The booming bass vibrated down Mike's six-pack and sent a shiver through him. "You're so fucking huge, T.", he said and his other hand joined in to explore the mountainous chest. The meaty rack of muscle suddenly began dancing under his touch as Tristan bounced his pecs. Mike's mouth hung open in a soundless moan and his dick exploded against the beastly quad. A grin formed on Tristan's lips as he felt the liquid heat splatter against his thick thigh. He flexed his pecs some more and felt two more blasts leaking against his tree-sized leg. He grabbed Mike's right armpit with his right paw and effortlessly lifted the 162 pound jock up. Mike marveled as his muscular body was hoisted up in the air like a feather by the beastly teen. "Fuck. You lift me with one arm", he blurted out while he was lowered down atop the deeply grooved eight-pack. He sat up, his legs at the sides of the massive torso he was now straddling. His hands instantly reached for the juicy pecs that protruded upward and outward from Tristan's chest. His fingers kneaded the meaty mounds, or tried to: the hot, concrete-hard surface didn't budge at all under his grip. His 6 inch cock was back to full hardness after his orgasm and was laying in the canyon running down the center of the teen beast's eight-pack. "How did you get so huge, T.?", he asked as he pinched the hard nipples. "Mhm", Tristan grunted in pleasure. He looked into Mike's blue eyes and decided to tell him. "I discovered an old chart in the frat house library a few days ago", he said, "it talked about the rules of the frat, like how the cum of the selected few is harvested in the 'cum chalice' at their initiation and that only the top athlete's on campus can join. At the end of the text there was some kind of prophecy. It said that one day a star-marked man would come and he would incarnate the frat's traits…" "So?", Mike interrupted since he didn't understood the words of his huge tutor. Tristan brought up his left arm, his massive bicep bulging in the process, and turned his hand so that his palm faced Mike, exposing his thick wrist. "See this mole", he said as he pointed at the small birthmark, "I've had this star-shaped mole since my birth. So I'm the chosen one. Very ironic if you think about it: me, a frail runt destined to be part of the frat with the biggest jocks. I didn't even realize it at first. I was busy steeling glances of Brock and avoiding to get caught. Things were going fine until Brock came into the mutual showers were I was showering. He grabbed my shoulders to talk to me and a wave of energy hit me. Warmth flowed from Brock's fingers into my body and all my muscles began growing while Brock's melted away. Then I understood the prophecy: it meant the chosen one would be the ultimate jock by taking the traits of the selected few. the muscles of all the guys that have cummed into the 'cum chalice' can be absorbed by me. Brock was one of them." "So, you could get even bigger, T.", Mike said. "If I find out who's cum went into the chalice, I guess I can", Tristan replied and placed his hands behind his head. His 28 inch arms balled up in vein infested boulders and he felt Mike's cock throb against his abs. "You really like my muscles, don't ya?", he asked. "Fuck yeah", Mike answered without taking his eyes from the monstrous biceps, "must be so fun to be huge". "Like 'em enough to cum again?", Tristan asked with a smirk while he tensed his arms to make his biceps dance aside his head. Mike's 6 incher smacked against the rock-hard eight-pack as another jolt went through it. "I've emptied my balls earlier", he said and his hands left the thick pecs to reach for the perfectly round biceps. "We'll see", Tristan groaned, "Come on feel 'em". Mike didn't need any further encouragement. His hands closed in on the orbs of muscle, shaking nervously as he felt the heat coming from the tanned cannonballs. His hands made contact with the concrete-hard spheres but didn't even cover the top. "Mhgn", he moaned as another jolt shot through his rock-hard cock. Tristan noted the pure lust in the smaller guy's eyes and made his bicep dance under his touch. "Mughn", Mike moaned again but his 6 incher didn't leak any fluid. His balls churned painfully. "Resisting my muscle, he", Tristan said and he clenched his eight-pack, trapping the throbbing cock in the deep valley running down its center. "Aughughn", Mike groaned as his dick was being crushed by the cobblestone-sized abs of his beastly tutor. Painful stabs shot through his balls and it felt like they were being pushed out his cock as another orgasm rolled over him. A meager, watery load leaked from his cock as the eight-pack around it relaxed. A hard blow hit his back: Tristan's big cock had come to life during his worship. Mike swiftly slid down and installed him between the huge quads. He dove onto the 12 incher that pointed straight up toward the ceiling, his hands atop the eight-pack for support. "Fuck", Tristan moaned deeply. The thought of having sent the 162 pound jock over the edge twice filled his mind with his own sexual prowess. His thick balls clenched as the hot mouth made contact with the sensitive, dark red head of his cock and orgasm exploded through his 284 pound body. His left hand grabbed the back of the jock's head to keep him in place and his magnificent muscles flexed in a display of pure manhood as the first thick load fired from his cock. "YEAUGHN!", he boomed in his deep bass while load after load blasted from his 12 incher. Mike gulped down the sticky cum like a hungry baby, breathing through his nose to catch his breath in between the long blasts. He felt spunk dripping from his mouth along the lengthy snake. He playfully bit the thick head in his mouth. "OUGHN", Tristan boomed as he felt the teeth on his sensitive cock. His balls blasted out four more loads and he fell back exhausted after the orgasm of a lifetime. Mike felt his huge tutor's orgasm wear down as the tenth blast disappeared down his throat toward his bloated stomach. He inhaled deeply through his nose and licked the last remains of cum from the fleshy snake. "Ya're so good, M. Never thought ya were a cocksucker", Tristan said and gently ruffled the jock's hair. Pride filled Mike as he heard the remark. He drew his mouth from the slowly deflating 12 incher and laid down next to the 284 pound beast, his own muscular body taking in the heat emanating from his beastly tutor. He dazzled off in a deep sleep. Being on his physical peak, Tristan had already recovered from the orgasm. "I'm gonna hit the showers", he said and got up, abandoning the bloated jock on the mattresses in the center of the room. In the gym Brad was going through his daily workout. He missed Brock's company to really push him to his limits, but ever since his buddy had lost his muscles he felt he had to protect the little guy. "Ten", he grunted between his teeth and lowered the bar. His shoulders were pumped from the military presses. A faint noise made him look aside and grab his phone. A grin formed on his lips when he read the message Emily just sent him. He grabbed his towel, rushed into the locker room and headed over to Emily's place. Back in the frat house, Brock had just informed Keith about Brad's brother. He hadn't mentioned a thing about the guy stealing his muscles but just told the frat leader that the guy wasn't planning on leaving the frat house. Before he could warn Keith to bring backup, the frat leader had told he'd come back to campus in the afternoon and ended their phone call. Brock knew the 165 pound Keith didn't stand a chance alone against the massive Tristan. He decided to go talk to Brad about it and headed over toward the campus gym. Brock entered the campus gym but saw no one around. He wandered through the deserted weight room he dominated until a couple of days ago and went in the locker room. He didn't see his buddy in the central area leading to the shower zone so he walked around the corner to where the lockers were positioned. He made his way to the furthest corner where his and Brad's locker were. A loud bang made him jump up. He heard some heavy footsteps echoing through the first part of the locker room and looked around for a place he could hide. He ducked and placed himself against the locker in front of his own, hoping that the other guy wouldn't see him. The heavy footsteps came closer but then moved somewhat away. A locker was slammed open in the other corridor formed by the double row of lockers in the center of this part of the locker room. Brock controlled his breathing and silently crawled toward the end of the row of lockers. He peeped around the corner and saw Sean standing at his locker. Sean, a junior and one year younger than Brock, had been his rival ever since he joined the football team. At 210 pounds of muscle, Sean was the undisputed number two on the team. He had tried to take Brock's place as the star quarterback without much success. Brock's weight advantage had always given him an edge on the 30 pounds lighter athlete: even though Sean was a tad faster, Brock was quite a bit stronger. Sean wasn't very popular on the team either: his cocky attitude contrasted with Brock's easy-going, team-oriented spirit. Despite Brock's efforts, they had never become friends. Brock continued observing his now way bigger rival. Sean was going through his things inside the locker. He looked around carefully and pulled out a vial and a syringe. He filled the syringe, tapped it, pulled down his shorts slightly and plunged the needle into his ass cheek. Brock realized what Sean was doing and took a slight step back. He lost his balance on the slippery floor and fell backward against the locker. The thud echoed through the locker room. Sean jumped up when he heard the sound. "What the fuck?", he said, quickly emptied the syringe and tossed it in his locker as he pulled up his pants. "Who's there?", he yelled. Being the second biggest man on the football team, he didn't fear anyone but Brock. He jumped swiftly to the source of the sound and discovered a small, yet familiar looking boy lying on his ass on the floor. "I … I swear I didn't see anything", Brock blurted out as he stared up at his rival. He noticed the angry look in the 210 pound athlete's eyes and crawled backward but his back was already against the cold, metal locker. "Brock?", Sean asked incredulously as he recognized the high-pitched peep. A grin formed on his face while he realized his big rival was gone and he was now the number one on the team. "What the hell happened to ya?" Brock saw the devilish grin forming on the big guy's face. "I lost my muscle", he said as a big hand grabbed his shirt and lifted him off the floor. "Really?", Sean replied with a smirk as he held his fallen rival at eye level with just one arm, enjoying the feeling of being all-powerful. "Why are you on 'roids?", Brock asked while his arms and legs dangled in the air. "I thought ya didn't see a thing", Sean said. Brock ignored the remark. "You're the second biggest guy on the team. Why would you need to roid up?", he went on. "How do ya think I got this big? I was stuck at 180 pounds. No matter how hard I trained, I couldn't get any bigger. Did my first cycle at the end of high school and gained 10 pounds of pure muscle. Have been cycling every summer since then. Now I'm doing some more to take top position next year. But I guess I won't have to wait until my senior year and you leaving", Sean said. "Huh?", Brock peeped. "You're wrong: I'm no longer the second biggest guy on the team. I'm the alpha dog now!", Sean boomed. He tossed away his fallen rival. Brock flew through the locker room and crashed down in a pile of smelly clothes. Before he could get up, a big hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him over to the lengthy mirror. His clothes were ripped away and he looked at his reflection. His 80 pound body made him look like a frail prepubescent boy. "You're so pathetic", Sean said as he moved in to stand behind the runt. Brock stared at his 210 pound rival in the mirror. Sean was easily three times as wide as him and at 5'8 towered over his own 5'2 body. His thick arms hung relaxed at his sides, pushing the sleeves of his T-shirt to their limits, and were just a bit too big: Sean always worked them harder than any other body part. Brock felt his meager cock hardening. "Seems like the B-rock has crumbled down to nothing", Sean said and poked the little guy in his puffy stomach. "Flex yar arms, runt", he said. Brock reluctantly raised his arms. He'd flexed in front of this mirror countless times but never before he'd feared his reflection. He flexed his arms as hard as he could but his 7 inch pipes lacked any definition. He noted the grin on Sean's face in the mirror. "I was bigger when I was 8", Sean said and put his right hand atop the scrawny right bicep. He clenched his hand and his strong fingers crushed the weak bicep like jelly. "Aw", Brock peeped in pain as his upper arm was crushed together. His left hand reached for the hand atop his right arm and tugged at it. His weak efforts were no match for his rival. "Haha", Sean laughed at Brock's feeble attempts to get free. "No one will stop me now!", he said and threw a double bicep pose. His 21 inch guns mounded upward and hardened into two orbs of meaty muscle as they ripped the treads of his sleeves. "Ughn", Brock grunted at the display of muscle. His 3 inch dick leaked a watery load. Sean noticed his fallen rival's reaction in the mirror. He lowered his arms, turned him around and placed his hand atop the guy's bony shoulders. "So, we have a fag on the team", he said as he Brock pushed down to his knees and unbuttoned his own pants with his other hands. Brock's legs gave out from the pressure and he kneeled down in front of the now undisputed biggest guy on the football team. Before he could react, a thick 8,5 incher was forced into his mouth. He gagged as more of the fleshy snake was shoved inside. Sean grabbed the back of his former rival's head and smacked him against his six-pack. He began face fucking the frail guy, thinking about how he now dominated the guy that used to eclipse him. Brock grabbed hold of Sean's muscular ass for support. He gagged and gagged but the 130 pound heavier athlete overpowered him completely. "Yeahung", Sean groaned as his cock fired away into the frail guy's mouth and throat. Four loads shot from his balls before his orgasm wore off. He released Brock's head and the small guy fell away while his 8,5 incher drenched his face with a final load. Brock slumped down to the floor and looked up in awe at the 210 pound stud while the thick spunk slid down his face. "Yar place on the time is mine now!", Sean said and threw another double bicep pose to emphasize his point.

Four Brad and Brock returned to their room in silence. Brad's mind was processing the meeting with his now huge brother. He gently rubbed his pecs that were hurting from the hard blow he'd gotten. "I'm going to the gym for my workout. Maybe I can figure something out to help you, buddy", he said to his friend, "Wanna come?". "What could I do in the gym?", Brock peeped in his high-pitched voice, "I own most the records on the lifts and now look at me." Tears welled up in his eyes. Brad realized he'd made a mistake and gently grabbed his buddy's bony shoulder. "You could keep me company", he said," I've always enjoyed you pushing me to my limits. You had my back when you were bigger than me. Now I have you back, buddy. So, sure you don't wanna come?". "Thanks, but no, buddy", Brock replied, "It would be too painful being in the gym right now, maybe later. I'm gonna stay right here. Go pump some iron, man". "Gonna blast these arms", Brad said with a grin and flexed his right arm. Brock stared at the 17 inch gun in envy. Just yesterday his own arms dwarfed his buddy's by 6 inches and right now, he'd kill to have arms like Brad. He nodded and watched his 185 pound friend walk away. "Remember Brock? Found someone even bigger. Join me on my bro's campus. dexameni-frat house. T." Tristan clicked and his phone sent the message to Mike. Unlike Tristan, Mike was one of the popular jocks at their high school. Standing 5'7 and 162 pounds, Mike was one of the star players on their high school football team. Tristan still remembered the day Mike had come up to him, eclipsing his weak 125 pound body with his muscular frame and asked to tutor him. During their study sessions, Mike proved to be a fast learner but insisted on being tutored. After a few weeks, Tristan had finally gotten it: Mike kept showing up every time Brock was hanging out with his older brother. He'd spoken to Mike about it and the football player obviously denied. It wasn't until Tristan admitted being attracted to Brock's huge body that Mike also conceded. They had made a deal: Tristan would keep his mouth shut about Mike and Mike would keep the other jocks from picking on Tristan. During their study sessions they could then both steal glances of Brock. A vibration made Tristan look at his phone. "Even bigger than the bulk??? Taking the first plane out. Be there tomorrow. M." "He'll be in for a big surprise", Tristan said to himself as he put his phone down. In the gym, Brad was going through his workout with extra intensity. "Have to get bigger", he said to his reflection and curled the bar up with shaking arms. His thoughts kept going back and forth between his now puny friend and his now huge brother. He dismissed the thought and returned his focus on his pumped arms. "One more", he yelled to his swollen and red biceps as he curled the bur up for a final rep. He tossed the bar down and did a double bicep pose, admiring how his arms mounded up toward 18 inches of hard muscle. A jolt went through his plump cock in his workout pants. "Let's see if Emily is up for some fun", he said to his reflection and left the gym. Brock went to the kitchen and stumbled backward as he entered. The beastly Tristan was sitting at the table filled with food and was wolfing down huge amounts of food. Brock stared in awe as the massive biceps bulged up into perfectly round, veiny cannonballs that stretched the sleeves of the gray t-shirt as the teen brought the food to his mouth. Tristan looked aside and noticed the scrawny Brock standing in the doorway. "Miring the view?", he asked with a smug grin. Brock simply nodded without taking his eyes from the 28 inch arms. "I'm stuffed", Tristan said and patted his stomach, "needed the food to fuel my muscles". Brock kept looking at the beastly teen who stood up and swaggered over to him. He gulped while drinking in the sight of Tristan's massive muscles straining the gray t-shirt. It was his most baggy shirt that hung loosely over his 241 pound body until yesterday. He craned his head up to stare into the beast's eyes. Being 5'2 himself, the 6'1 Tristan towered over him in height. Tristan loomed down into Brock's eyes, noticing the mixture of fear and arousal. "You used to be so intimidating, but now you're pathetic", he said, "I had my brains when I was skinny. You don't even hove those". "Please, Tristan. Give my muscles back", Brock pleaded in his high-pitched voice, "Ya don't even have to give them all back. Ya can keep some of my mass". "I don't think so, Brock", Tristan replied, "I'm liking my new size. Besides I don't know how I took your muscles. So I can't give them back. I think your muscles look better on me. Don't you agree?". Tristan brought up his right arm and flexed it. His cannonball-sized bicep mounded upward and outward atop his low-hanging, thick tricep; veins exploded over the surface as the monstrous bicep rose and rose until it reached 28 inches of hard meat underneath the paper-thin bronzed skin. Brock's eyes widened as the massive muscle flexed right in front of him. He thought he heard the skin stretching as it tried accommodating to the hardening bicep. He instinctively reached for the insanely muscular arm. A shiver went through his scrawny body as he touched the rock-hard, hot mountain of meat. His 3 incher leaked a watery load in his pants. "Don't I look better with your muscles? Better than you ever did?", Tristan asked again and flexed his right bicep some more under the frail touch. "Yep", Brock blurted out as his fingers were pried open by the beastly bicep hardening some more. A hint of disappointment went through Tristan: he'd hoped for the tingling sensation to return when Brock touched his arm so he could drain some more size from him. But nothing happened. Perhaps he can't get smaller than he is now, he thought and brushed the skinny guy's hand away from his arm. "Better hit the gym again to grow back some size, Brock", he said with a smirk and abandoned the fallen football player. The next day Brock followed his friend Brad to the gym. Both of them wanted to avoid Tristan as much as possible and Brad was happy that his best friend was regaining some of his old energy. He decided to push the little guy as much as possible to make him grow back his muscles. While Brad and Brock were out, Mike arrived at the frat house. His dick was hard thinking about the huge guy Tristan had mentioned in his text. He stepped up to the front door and knocked. He stepped back as a massive guy opened. "T? What the fuck happened to you?", he yelled out in disbelief as he recognized the guy. "Let's go to my room", Tristan said and went inside. Mike followed the beastly man, admiring his insanely wide back. Tristan opened a door on his left and strutted in. Mike hurried in and closed the door behind him. He looked at Tristan standing in the center of the room, his arms folded in front of him. Veins crisscrossed all over the thick forearms, impossibly large biceps pushed the sleeves of his grey t-shirt up and hard, horseshoe-shaped triceps jutted out in relief at the back of the meaty upper arms; protruding pecs strained the front of the shirt and wide, round shoulders pushed it to its limits. "So? What do ya think?", Tristan asked with a smirk on his face. "Huhg?", Mike muttered as he tried to fathom the unbelievable sight in front of him. He looked up at the beastly teen's chiseled face: a coarse five-o'clock-beard decorated the square jawline. Tristan noted the look of pure admiration in Mike's blue eyes. "How did you get so huge, T.?", Mike asked and cleared this throat as his voice cracked. He just couldn't believe the size on the guy he'd outweighed by a good 40 pounds. His dick was rock-hard and throbbed in his pants. Tristan didn't respond. He slowly took off his shirt, gradually revealing his upper body. Mike's mouth fell open and his eyes widened to the size of saucers as his once scrawny tutor's torso came into view. He gazed at the massive traps that made his neck look like that of a bull and descended into an impossibly wide pair of perfectly round, bowling ball-sized shoulders that supported the thickest, most muscular arms he'd ever seen; a thick protruding rack of meaty pecs the size of half watermelons divided by a deep cleavage stretched the tanned, paper-thin skin tight across the mighty chest that obscured the top half of the hardest looking eight-pack around, the valley running down the middle of the four rows of cobblestone-sized, deeply edged abs looked deep enough to fuck it. "Ughn", Mike groaned at the sight and he creamed his pants. "Something wrong, M.?", Tristan asked smugly as he looked back at the high school football player. He noticed the dark stain forming at the front of the athlete's jeans. "Wanna see my legs too?", he demanded teasingly. Mike nodded eagerly while he drank in the display of muscular perfection and orgasm kept racing through his 162 pound body. Another load flew from his cock into his soaked boxers. "Thought so", Tristan said and removed his sweat pants. He tossed them aside and stood up straight. "Fughnck", Mike grunted in pleasured disbelief as he gawked at the tree trunk-sized pillars of muscle that were his tutor's legs. The different parts of his huge quads were crisscrossed with deep crevices and thick veins, the teardrop obscured his kneecap by its sheer size and his strong calves jutted out at the back of his lower leg. Mike's eyes were drawn to the front of the military-style boxers that seemed ready to burst open. "Still think that Brock has the best body?", Tristan asked in his deep bass while he rubbed his thick left pec. "Fuck Brock", Mike blurted out breathlessly and lunged forward. Before Tristan could react, the 162 pound football player was kneeling in front of him and yanked down his boxers. As the fabric only descended to about half his quads, he reached down and ripped them off. His plump cock inflated further as more blood flowed into it. Mike stared at the hardening snake in front of him. He gulped, licked his lips and took the swelling cock into his mouth. He grabbed hold of the beastly quads for support. "What…", Tristan let out but the pleasure of the 162 pound athlete servicing his dick overtook him. His left paw gently ruffled the guy's pepper and salt hair while his right paw played with one of his own hard nipples. Mike licked and sucked along the shaft that kept swelling inside his mouth as his hands roamed the hard surface of the muscular quads. "MMhm", Tristan moaned as his cock reached its 12 inches and goose bumps appeared all over his huge body. Mike used every instinctive skill he didn't even know he possessed. He upped the pace of his sucking, sucking the coke can-sized cock's head quickly and teasingly. He was rewarded by rumbling, needy sounds off his beastly tutor. He heard the massive guy's breathing increasing and sucked him deep and very hard. Tristan felt the electricity of a mighty orgasm rolling over him. His right paw grabbed the back of Mike's head and pulled him onto his dick. His lemon-sized balls drew tight and a first, huge load of sticky cum blasted through his throbbing shaft. "FUUGHNCK", he boomed and his huge muscles flexed as he was sent over the edge. Mike's nose collided with the hard bottom row of abs. He grabbed hold of his tutor meaty ass as the fleshy snake inside his mouth throbbed and flooded him with thick spunk. His own cock leaked another load as he realized he sent the hugest man around over the edge. "FUCK", Tristan roared once more as a second, third and fourth load shot from his cock. Mike gulped down the cum as fast as he could, but the juices leaked from his mouth and nose. His vision began waning since he couldn't breathe from the cum that kept filling his mouth. Tristan fell the hands on his muscular ass losing their grip but kept his right paw tight at the back of the athlete's skull to keep him in place. "Yeaughn", he groaned while four more blasts shot from his dick. Mike fell limp from the lack of air and the cum now poured from his mouth down on his chin. Tristan withdrew his still rock-hard 12 incher from Mike's mouth. He gently picked up the passed out guy, stripped off his clothes and laid him down on the mattresses in the center of the room. He laid down next to the guy that once outsized him by a good 40 pounds, but he now dwarfed by 120 pound of pure muscle and dazzled off.

I was just coming out of a deep sleep when I heard his heavy footsteps walking up the hallway. He walked into my room without knocking on the door. “Bro,” I heard his say in a deep voice. “Get up, I need a ride to go lift.” And with that, I felt his big hand on my ankle, starting to turn me over. No matter how much I resisted, within a few seconds he managed to drag me to the end of the bed. “Okay, I’m getting up,” I said. My feet hit the floor and I looked at him, wearing ridiculously tight workout shorts and nothing else. His long, sandy brown hair hung in his eyes, and even though he had just shaved the night before, he head a heavy stubble across his face. His cheekbones looked liked they were carved from marble, and his jaw was perfectly square. His shoulders were wide and thick with muscle, even bigger than the day before. His massive chest heaved up and down slowly, and with each breath his cobblestone eight-pack of abs popped out even more impressively. Across the top of his left delt, the word DEAT was tattooed in block letters. Drop everything and train, had become his mantra, and that of the entire team. His huge arms hung at his sides, pushed out by his incredibly wide and powerful lats. I smiled at him, impressed with how determined he had been, and slowly stood up, still in my briefs. At 6’ 6” and 275lbs, I was just a hair taller than him. But he now outweighed me by 10lbs of pure grade-A muscle. The resolute look on his face said, DEAT. Standing at eye-level with him, I could feel his calm breath and knew it was time for our new morning ritual. It started a few weeks ago, as a way to test his strength. He held the car keys gripped in his hand, and extended his arm to me. “You can’t drive me if you don’t have the keys bro,” he said mockingly. He looked down at his arm as it slowly tensed up. First, the bicep formed into a huge softball. As he continued to focus, the power moved down to his forearm, which was thick with new muscle and several prominent veins. Looking down at his stomach, he crunched his eight-pack next, revealing phenomenal new definition. I reached over and gripped his enormous bicep. “Very impressive. 21 inches?” I asked. Looking right at me, he pumped up his bicep even more and said “Doesn’t that feel like 22 to you?” I laughed, and started to slide my hand, first down to his thick forearm. As I started to move down to his wrist, he opened his hand and dropped the keys on the floor, and wrapped it around my own formidable forearm. His grip felt incredibly powerful, and he applied some pressure, holding my arm in place. “Let’s not play this game anymore, we both know it’s been getting harder for you to overpower me,” he said. We stood face to face, our hands tightly gripping each other’s forearms, neither one of us willing to yield. 44 inches of bicep muscle between the two of us started to fire up. He smiled at me, and started to force my arm up. The movement was imperceptible at first, but then he really started to overpower me. Within a few seconds, he had my hand up in the air, almost in a victory pose. With his arm raised, I could see the muscled striations of his interior bicep. He was more stunned than I was. Even though he was clearly now much stronger, this was my victory. “Holy shit, you were right. Your training plans really worked,” he said. “Well, if you want to get to the gym, you’ll have to let me go now,” I said, and with that he released his iron grip. He bent over and grabbed the car keys, and tossed them to me. “Let’s go. DEAT!” Oh, in case you were wondering, this is Colin speaking. I know up until now you have heard this story from the perspective of my brother, Greg. But he’s been so busy lifting lately. So I’m going to catch you up on what’s happened in the last three months, as both Greg and Marcus found their own determination, and finally started to grow. As everyone else on the team was gaining muscle mass quickly, both Greg and Marcus seemed to be struggling. I paired them up in the hopes they would motivate each other, and that motivation came in the form of Marcus’ father, Dan Cunitz. Mr. Cunitz was one of the most successful and powerful real estate developers in the state, and I had convinced him to help fund the team: renovating the house, providing new gym equipment, even supplying the food and a kitchen staff. He had always taken an interest in the baseball team, and it was his clout that got Marcus onto the team, in spite of his small size and total lack of athletic skills. To Mr. Cunitz, his son was a total disappointment, and he made sure to tell Marcus every time he came to visit. “All the money that I donate to this school and they can’t put five pounds of muscle on you? Why can’t you be more like Jackson?” Mr Cunitz would say whenever he visited. It was a poorly kept secret that Mr. Cunitz was very fond of Jackson, who was the star player and the biggest guy on the team, at least until I arrived. Jackson was your typical dumb jock: shower him with some attention and gifts, and he was easily manipulated. Mr. Cunitz knew how to do this. He was very generous with Jackson, hiring personal trainers for him, buying him clothes and workout gear. Jackson responded by bulking up fast. Jackson loved the results, and was easily manipulated into performing some oral favors for Mr. Cunitz in order to keep the largesse coming. By the time I arrived on the team, Jackson stood 6’ 5” tall and weighed 275lbs. I knew that if I were going to rebuild this team, I would have to establish myself as the unassailable authority. Jackson responded to my authority, and I put an end to their special relationship immediately. Mr. Cunitz was not happy with that, but he seemed to enjoy interacting with me. He would call for updates on the team regularly, and I gladly complied, letting him treat me like another paid employee. But sometimes I would offer to chat with him on FaceTime, and he never turned down those requests. I would play dumb, sitting in front of the cam as we chatted. When I had a financial request to make, I would take off my shirt, so casually, and let him see the muscle god that I was. I wouldn’t pose for him – that would be too direct an approach with a Type A guy like him. Sometimes I would have Jackson in view behind me, shirtless as well. And little by little, I started to create a hunger in Mr. Cunitz that he never knew he had. I’d pretend to turn away from the camera, and that gave him an opportunity to stroke his fat dick. I never caught on that I knew, and that gave me the upper hand. I started to get more direct in our conversations, demanding large sums of money for the team. Once, he hesitated and questioned my request for $5,000 cash to buy new equipment. I stood up, with the cam right on my ripped eight-pack, and started to reach over to shut my laptop. “I guess this conversation is over, Dan.” But once he saw my thickly cobbled stomach up close, he relented. “Okay, okay! I’ll have it delivered tomorrow,” he said, with a bit of desperation in his voice. I leaned down in front of the cam, with no expression on my face, and said, “Make it $10,000, Dan.” The next day, a courier arrived, not with $10,000, but $15,000 in cash for me, the keys to a new Cadillac Escalade, and a profuse letter of apology from Dan. “So sorry about last night Colin. The Escalade is paid for and insured, for your private use. And use the extra cash as you see fit. Respectfully, Dan.” Colin laughed. Respectfully. Dan was hooked. The most powerful businessman in the state was dominated by an 18 year-old college freshman. And he had no idea. He was still an asshole though, especially when it came to Marcus. I allowed him to vent about this, to let him think he still had some authority left. “Can’t you do anything about that runt?” he said to me in one particularly angry chat we had. Marcus was in the room at the time, out of the cam’s view. But he overheard the entire angry conversation. I looked up at Marcus as his father ranted about him, saying things like “useless kid… got his mother’s shitty genetics… he’ll never amount to anything.” Mr. Cunitz ended by saying “I’d rather turn this company over to you, Colin.” Then he ended the call. I looked at Marcus. Instead of bursting into tears though, I could see the blood rising up in him. “So sorry you had to hear that Marcus. I’m refining a new training plan for both you and Greg,” I said. Marcus walked over to me, with a fire in him that I had never seen before. “Whatever it takes, Colin. MAKE ME HUGE.” I stood up from my chair, shirtless. The contrast between the two of us couldn’t be more remarkable: a 6’ 5” 275lb muscle jock, standing next to a 5’ 7”, doughy 140lb nerd. “Bigger than me, Marcus?” I asked. He didn’t hesitate to roar up at me, “YES.” And just like that, my new plan went into action. Marcus started training the next day with a new, inexhaustible intensity. Since Greg was his workout partner, his intensity increased as well. The two of them working out together was like an inferno. Within a few days, the rest of the team mobilized around them, knowing that something incredible was taking place. Brendan and Jeremy became thief full-time coaches. Jackson and James attended class on their behalf, taking notes and even exams in their place, so their grades didn’t suffer. And the results were remarkable. They both seemed to stop thinking about anything but lifting weights and training. The entire house revolved around them. Marcus shed his baby fat quickly, and even dropped a few pounds at first. His abs popped quickly, revealing a frame that was ready to add a massive amount of muscle. Greg, already in good shape, started adding muscle rapidly, anywhere from 5 to 8 pounds a week. At one point, I expected the growth to level out, but something even more remarkable happened: he got taller, slowly rising up from 6’ even, to just under 6’ 5”. This allowed him to add and carry even more muscle. Before long, he outgrew his clothes quickly and started to borrow mine. I managed to keep Mr. Cunitz off-campus during this intense growth phase. I wanted to keep harnessing Marcus’ anger to fuel the growth. But after three months of excuses, I needed to let him visit the team. I was running drills with the football team one afternoon. You remember how the football team begged me to annex them to the baseball team? Yea, I did that, and now they were the biggest and most feared team in the state. Anyway, I got a text from Dan. Will arrive in five minutes, it said. I kept looking out at the road for his car when I heard a helicopter overhead. I received another text: Clear the field, I’m landing. Well, I thought, he has paid enough money to this school. He should be allowed to land his helicopter. The chopper touched down, Dan got out of the pilot’s seat and ran over to me. At 6‘ 2” and a very solid 210lbs, Dan had managed to keep his jock physique into his early 40s. He was wearing tight jeans, and a snug polo shirt that showed off his impressive arms. He was a very handsome man, even more so with a bit of ginger stubble on his square jaw. “Sorry about landing the chopper right here Colin, my schedule is very tight this week.” I could see him measuring up the shirtless athletes, each one an Adonis in his own right. “Wow, I can see my money is being put to good use. I bet there’s not a one of you under 225lbs.” “240 is the minimum for this team Dan,” I said, correcting him. “I guess the runt isn’t in this crowd, huh?” he said, with disdain. “Marcus is at the gym,” I said, “but I texted and he’s on his way over. With Jackson and Greg,” I added. A few minutes later, the Escalade pulled up. Jackson got out of the driver’s seat in just his workout shorts. I could hear Dan gasp at the site of him. Dan thought Jackson was a fortress of muscle a few months ago, but after coaching by Colin he was now a mountain: he towered at 6’ 8” and 315lbs of pure, fat-free muscle. His shoulders were colossally wide, his pecs quite literally like plates of armor, and at his side hung 24-inch biceps. Dan’s eye’s drifted down to Jackson’s powerfully thick legs, which were barely contained in the nylon shorts. “Hey Jackson, you look amazing,” said Dan, not even trying to hide his lust for the young muscle god. “I’ve got to get that stud on his knees for me again,” Dan thought to himself. Dan reached over and grabbed Jackson’s enormous bicep and squeezed, but he couldn’t even make a dent. “Maybe you can show me around the training facility later, huh Jackson?” he said, in a desperate attempt to get some private time with the jock. Jackson just stared blankly and said “Ask Marcus first.” The fact that he didn’t fawn over Dan’s attentions, and financial largesse, just pissed off Dan even more. Then Greg got out of the car. He was now easily 6’ 6” tall, with 290lbs of muscle. He was wearing workout shorts, and bursting out of my old hoodie. Greg sauntered over and stood next to Jackson. I glanced over at Dan, but didn’t say a word. I wanted him to enjoy every minute of the muscle display that he had financed. I knew that after today, I would never have a problem getting money out of him again. Then the passenger’s side door creaked open, and the vehicle rose up as Marcus got out of the truck. Still partly obscured by the vehicle, Dan looked at me and said, “Is THAT my son?” Rounding the front of the truck, Marcus finally revealed himself to his hateful father: He stood at 7’ 2” tall, and carried 415lbs of solid muscle on his frame. His neck was the size of a small tree trunk, and his smooth, massive chest heaved slowly. He was wearing an open button-down shirt, revealing thick dark fur on his ripped 8-pack. He was, by far, the biggest guy on the field, and probably in the entire state university system. Despite his size, he walked over briskly to his father. “Hey Dad,” he said, in a deep voice, letting his father soak up every inch of him. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” They chatted for a few minutes. Dan was clearly rattled, and Marcus enjoyed toying with him. Colin could hear the tone of the conversation change as Dan raised his voice. Ah, thought Colin. Classic bully: put him in a situation he can’t control and he lashes out. “You could be more grateful Marcus, it’s my money that financed this whole team. And your transformation,” said Dan. “If I pulled the funding, you would revert to the loser you’ve always been.” Colin could hear the desperation in his voice, as Dan turned around and faced Jackson next: “You too. You would be a washed up college athlete if it wasn’t for me. You should both be more respectful to me.” When no one responded to his idle threats, Dan turned and walked towards the helicopter. He shouted to me: “You are all cut off. No more money from Mr. Cunitz. Let’s see how you losers do without me.” He got into the cockpit and slammed the door. Marcus walked over and calmly said, “Dad, open the door,” but Dan ignored him. “DAD, OPEN THE DOOR.” Mr. Cunitz glared at him, revved up the helicopter and started to lift off the ground slowly. Marcus reached over and grabbed the skids of the helicopter and gripped it tight. “PUT IT DOWN DAD, OR I’M TAKING YOU DOWN.” And without waiting, Marcus flexed his powerful lats and biceps and yanked on the helicopter, pulling it back down onto the ground with a thud. Mr. Cunitz, stunned at this display of superhuman strength, turned off the engine. Marcus reached for the door and yanked it right off the hinges. He reached in, grabbed his father and easily hauled him out of the copter. “RESPECT?” roared Marcus. “You WILL fund the team, whatever Colin asks for, from now on. No questions. Got it?” Mr. Cunitz whimpered, “Yes Marcus.” Marcus hauled him back up and carried him over to Jackson. “You’re so fond of Jackson, well now you belong to him. We need a need water boy on the team.” And just like that, my transformation of the team was completed. A group of mediocre athletes was now a team of unstoppable muscle gods already feared across the state. With the unlimited funding from Mr. Cunitz secured, I eventually annexed every other sports team in the university, and became the first student named as University Athletic Director. Now, onto my plans for national domination….

Three Fear filled Tristan's widened eyes as he was slowly span around to face Brock. He tried resisting and fighting back but his 124 pound body was totally overpowered by his brother's 241 pound buddy. His more-than-half-hard cock slapped against his skinny left leg while he was turned around. He quickly held his hands in front of it and looked up into the 5'8 man's eyes. "Just relax, man", Brock said as he looked down in the 5'5 little guy's dark brown eyes, "Don'tcha think it's time we had a real talk? Things can't go on like this. Yar bro and I are trying to help ya out". A pleasant warmth began flowing through Tristan as he listened to Brock's deep baritone voice. He felt his 5 incher harden fully beneath his hands as he was mere inches away from the amateur bodybuilder physique he'd admired for several years. Brock noticed the fear disappearing from the small boy's eyes and a hint of what seemed like a smile forming on his frail lips. A shiver travelled down his spine and his sight went dark for a second while he felt a tingling sensation between his meaty paws and the skin of the skinny guy's bony shoulders. He blinked his eyes to refocus his gaze. Tristan perceived pearls of sweat forming on the huge athlete's forehead. A faint moan escaped his mouth as the warmth increased exponentially throughout his frail body. He closed his eyes in pleasure. Brock looked down at the guy in front of him while the last black dots disappeared from his sight. His sight still was a bit foggy as if the steam in the shower zone kept him from seeing clearly. He noted the small, flat pecs and wondered why Tristan always wore baggy clothes: he looked decent enough like someone that had started working out a few months earlier. The tingling sensation made him look at his own paws and noticed the frail, yet squarish looking shoulders beneath them. He looked further down to discover the thin yet strong looking biceps with a prominent blue vein. The small guy had the typical surfer look with his nice tan. Brock looked back at the small boy's chest. He would have sworn the flat pecs looked bigger than a couple of minutes earlier. Tristan let out a second, louder moan as the warmth seemed to slip inside his bones and muscles. He reopened his eyes and stared at the meaty rack of hard muscle atop Brock's chest. The thought that the protruding pecs seemed less impressive than he'd imagined, flew through his mind. His cock felt harder than ever before and it throbbed behind his hands. Brock stared at the growing boy in his grasp in disbelief and blinked his eyes again, but the foggy ring at the edge of his gaze only got more intense and prevented him from seeing anything else than the frail boy in front of him. "Ya're getting bigger, T.", he said as he noticed the hardening four-pack. He looked up and saw the now even thicker pecs swelling with every breath the small boy took. He felt the bony shoulder beneath his paws hardening and thickening. Brad's little brother now looked like a surfer who had spent too much time in the gym. The tingling sensation between his meaty fingers and the swelling shoulders increased some more. Tristan heard the huge man's remark and looked down at his body. A disbelieved gasp escaped his mouth as he stared at his muscular and still growing physique. He'd gained a good 40 pounds and it showed clearly: every muscle on his body was bigger, it was like he was going through puberty once more right there. His hands fell away from his cock and a throbbing hard, 6 incher stood up straight in front of him. He looked up at the man holding him and noticed that Brock no longer looked like an amateur bodybuilder but more like an overbuild fitness model. Brock's gaze was glued to the growing guy's rock-hard cock and a jolt went through his own dick. "Fuck. Ya're getting big like yar bro", he said in a slightly higher voice. The tingling sensation expanded through his body and seemed to invade every one of his meaty muscles. A hint of fatigue made a tremor course through his thick quads, but he was too busy admiring the hardening physique in front of him to notice it. Tristan noted the much less rich baritone and looked at his brother's huge friend's face. He gasped when he saw Brock's face: his prominent jaw line was getting softer and made his squared masculine face beginning to look rectangular. He also realized he was looking straight into Brock's eyes. His mind quickly processed this realization and he suddenly knew where his new size was coming from: the prophecy he'd read in the frat house library was right. He was now just as tall as the guy that once towered 5 inches above him. Their bodies now weighed exactly the same, but looked clearly different: Tristan's was bulging with pure, ripped muscle and growing where Brock's was shaggy and somewhat blobby looking and obviously shrinking. Brock couldn't believe his eyes: the wimpy, frail boy before him was now looking like a contest ready physique competitor. The shoulder beneath his hands were broadening and thickening and began pushing open his fingers; the once flat pecs were now a nicely protruding rack of striated muscle atop a deeply grooved six-pack; the stick-like arms were replaced by strong looking, muscle-filled pipes that had to be around 18 inches. A throbbing motion made him look down and he saw the thick, rock-hard 8 inch cock protruding proudly from Tristan's body. The thick fog at the edge of his sight began dissipating and as he looked down he noticed his own chest. "No", he mumbled in a hig-pitched tenor voice, "where did my muscles go?". "Here", Tristan said in a now way deeper voice than Brock. His thickly muscled arms reached forward and he grabbed hold of his brother's friend's armpits. Instantly, more warmth rushed through his ever growing body. The tingling sensation from Brock's hands also appeared where Tristan's hands made contact with his body. A wave of exhaustion and weakness seemed to come over him as he felt his muscles being siphoned into the other man. "Let me… go", Brock said in a breaking voice and tried squirming free. He fought with every ounce of strength left in his weakening body and manage to loosen the grasp around his ribs. Tristan felt his brother's friend breaking his hold but quickly replaced his hands in his armpits and applied more pressure. His growing body got stronger with every passing second while Brock's diminishing one only got weaker. "Feed me your size!", he boomed in his deepening baritone voice and let the energy and mass flow into him. Brock tried freeing his hands from the swelling shoulders but they were fused to the now boulder-sized orbs of muscle. His eyes widened as he felt his feet leave the floor: the guy he'd outsized by nearly 120 pound just minutes earlier now held him effortlessly in the air. "Put me down, T.", Brock pleaded desperately as his body now sank below 160 pounds. He fought and squirmed but the grasp around his torso got stronger and stronger. "Ya still have more left to give", Tristan replied as he enjoyed the feeling of being all-powerful and dominating the huge stud he'd luster after ever since he'd first seen him. Brock just stared at the ever-growing beast that held him, tears flowing from his eyes: Brad's little brother was quickly closing in on his own old size and showed no signs of stopping. His heavy, striated protruding pecs heaved bigger with every breath and each time maintained their new size, the tanned skin was stretched tight across the inflating mounds of meat and stretch marks began appearing at the top and sides of the massive rack as the quickly growing muscles pushed the paper-thin skin to its limits; the arms that held him up were perfectly round and bulged with muscle and snaking veins as they now clearly surpassed the 23 inches he once had; the six-pack had evolved into an impossibly deeply edged eight-pack; his once stick-like legs now were pillars of strength that easily supported his growing body and his rock-hard cock was closing in on a double-digit-length and the girth of a coke can. "Please, give my muscles back", he pleaded in a girly voice. Tristan looked into the tear-filled eyes of his brother's best friend. A smirk formed on his lips as he realized how easily he held the once huge athlete up: the once huge Brock felt like a feather in his swelling 25 inch arms. Brock's intimidating, masculinity-oozing body had shriveled down to the same pathetic size he'd been minutes earlier and kept getting weaker in his grasp. His own, now huge body felt energized and strong as warmth and mass kept flowing into him and fed his growing muscles. "Fuck. This feels so good", he said in his rich, deep voice. Brock noticed the hungry look in Tristan's dark brown eyes and he realized the guy wasn't going to give his muscles back. His own eyes widened as he marveled at the guy's body: the wimpy boy he'd always known now surpassed his size at his prime. The muscles bulging all over the man's growing body kept amassing more mass. The man holding him up wasn't simply huge, he was growing beastly: shoulders now twice the size his had been and perfectly round, gave him an impossibly intimidating v-taper. Fatigue began overwhelming his own diminishing body as he sank below 100 pounds. Tristan felt his growth coming to an end and summoned the last ounces of strength from the weak body in his grasp. "FUCK YEEAH!", he boomed in a deep bass that echoed against the tilled walls and rattled the wimpy frame in his grasp. He tossed the now 80 pound Brock aside and looked down at his own 284 pound body. He looked like an ultra-heavy weight bodybuilder ready to compete: every muscle on his 6'1 frame was pumped, hard and ripped and rippled beneath his paper-thin tanned skin. His 12 inch cock exploded against the tilled walls, flooding the shower zone with his sticky man juices. He abandoned the wimpy Brock and swaggered out of the shower zone, his heavy footsteps echoing through the frat house. Brock lay down on the cold, wet tilled floor and waited for the sound of the heavy footsteps to fade. He got up slowly, his skinny legs quaking with fatigue: he felt like he'd just gone through a grueling workout. He avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror, put on his shirt and sighed: the once skintight tank top now hung like a tent around his 80 pound body. He wandered over to his room and stumbled backward as he saw the huge Tristan coming out of it with some of his clothes tossed over his bowling ball-sized left shoulder. He waited a few seconds and went into his room. All his clothes were tossed around the place. He picked the now way too big shirts and pants up, put them back in the closet and heard his phone vibrating. He went for it and noticed a text from his buddy Brad. Got my bro's text. Seems like ya guys having a great time. Will be spending the night at Emilys. Have fun. B. Brock put his phone aside, got in bed and cried himself to sleep. The next morning Brad came back to the frat house with a smile on his face. He'd spent a very good night with Emily, like they always did. "Just in time for my morning workout with Brock", he said as he entered their mutual room. "Who are you?", he said as he saw a small guy standing in the center of the room. Brock jumped up at the sound of his best friend's voice. He turned around and had to look up to look at Brad's face, his best friend was now a full head taller than him. "It's me", he said, his weak voice breaking as he began crying. "Brock?", Brad asked incredulously as he recognized the patheticly skinny boy, "What happened to ya?". "Your brother… in the shower… my muscles…", Brock muttered in between sighs and sobs. Brad closed the distance between them and put his hands around his best friend. "It's okay, man. I'm here for ya", he said as he gently patted the frail back. Brock let his best friend comfort him. For the first time since he'd lost all his muscles, he actually felt safe. His now 100 pound heavier friend's embrace filled his weak body with warmth. "So, my brother did this to ya?", Brad asked, "but how?". "Don't know", Brock peeped in his girly voice, "my muscles just flowed into him when we were in the shower last night." "I'll go talk to him. He has to give yar muscles back. I'll make him do it!", Brad said. "He won't listen to you", Brock replied. "Don't underestimate me, buddy", Brad said and flexed his 17 inch right arm, "Come on, let's go talk to him!". "You don't get it: he's huge now. Way bigger than you are", Brock stated as he looked at his buddy's flexed arm with envy. Brad noticed Brock staring at his arm and quickly relaxed his pose. "No worry, buddy. I'm his big bro. He has to listen", he said as he gently ruffled his best friend's hair and went to the door. He stepped through the frat house to the part where his brother was staying, his buddy Brock following close behind him. He slammed open the door of the first room and stormed in, Brock right behind him. Someone had pulled the mattresses from the two beds and placed them together in the center of the room. But otherwise the room was deserted. "What are ya runts doing here?". The deep, thundering bass rumbled against the walls, rattled the windows and resonated in Brad's and Brock's bodies. They spun around and saw Tristan entering the room. The small Brock retreated behind his bigger buddy as the beastly teen came in. Brad looked in awe at his younger brother: every huge muscle on his body seemed ready to jump through the skintight hoodie he was wearing; the prominent vein snaking along his upper arms was clearly visible through the fabric. Not wanting to show his intimidation, he stepped up to his brother to confront him. He gulped as he had to look up slightly to stare him in the eye and he noticed that his brother's insanely wide shoulders were more than twice as broad as his own. "You took Brock's muscles?", he asked as deeply as possible. "Yep", Tristan replied matter-of-factly", I also took his hoodie". "Give them back", Brad stated, ignoring how his brother's deep bass drowned his own voice. "Or else what?", Tristan replied and put his hands on his hips and flared his lats, making his body double in width. The stretched hoodie protested with a tearing sound as it split open under the pressure of the beastly teen's wide back. Brad couldn't help it and took a step back instinctively. "Just give them back, bro", he said. "Ya're gonna make me?", Tristan asked coldly and inhaled deeply to make his huge chest expand. More tearing sounds came from the hoodie and the zipper at the front was pushed down by the massive mounds of striated muscle. "I… ehm", Brad began but words died in his throat as he laid eyes on the deep cleavage between his huge brother's thick pecs. More intimidation flowed through him and he had to summon all his willpower not to take another step back. Tristan saw the look of doubt in his older brother's eyes and a smirk formed on his lips. "Well?", he said. Before his brother could react, he shoved him in the chest. Brad didn't know what hit him. One moment he was standing in front of his now massive brother, the next he flew through the room and crashed down on the mattresses. He coughed as he got up to his knees. A huge paw grabbed hold of his shirt and lifted him up. He stared in disbelief at his younger brother as the beastly teen held his 185 pound body effortlessly up with his right arm. "Ya're in no position to tell me what to do, bro. Got it?", Tristan boomed angrily. Brad clutched at his brother's massive arm, trying to break free. "Guess I'm no longer 'little T.' like ya called me. Seems like 'little B.' is just a bug in my grasp", Tristan said as he shook his brother back and forth, "I'm calling the shots now. Got it, little bro?". Brad nodded, knowing full well he was no match for his beastly brother. He'd never felt more scared. "Now get lost!", Tristan boomed and tossed his brother into the corridor. Brock sprinted toward his best friend and the two of them quickly got away.

Part I, DANNY: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/10304-beast-master-i-danny/ When I think back to how I met Danny, and think how we got to where we are today—and what he has become—what we have become—it sends my cock into a fit of growth. It makes my balls churn and twitch. I can feel my sweet and salty cream building, moving around in them and building pressure. It happens almost without thinking. But since the beginning, not a drop has gone to waste. He is always waiting to clamp his hot wet mouth around me and suck it down his eager throat. I have asked him how he knows I need to cum. He simply answers that he can smell my need. He can feel my heart begin to race, even from a great distance. He is that attuned to me. That has come in handy in different ways, but it is too early in the story to say anything about that, yet. He knows I like it when he opens wide and I push it all the way to the hilt in one aggressive thrust. He knows I love it, so he loves it (although from the grunts and deep moans that escape his throat, I think he would love it anyway). My bull-pup has eclipsed all of my previously held worldly expectations for him, and when I stroke his planetary muscles, kiss his plump lips, run my fingers through his thick hair while he sucks me off and I tell him that he has made me happy, a tear often comes to his eye. He pulls back from the cock that he has swallowed and simply says, “Thank you, Master.” A million words are transferred between us from the look on his face. He smiles like a schoolboy who has been kissed for the first time. He knows I am pleased, even surprised at his obedience, his willingness, his vast physical superiority, and I can tell that he explodes with pride that he has made me happy. He also knows that I will demand more from him; more size, strength, and obedience. He will give all three to me, freely, completely. I wont tell you how big he is now, that would give it all way, but I will tell you how it all began. Eventually, we’ll get to the rest, and you will want to be here for that part. For the moment, he returns to Hoover-ing my dick, sucking me down again with reverent intent. I grip his hair, pulling tightly. He really starts sucking then and I can feel the powerful muscles of his throat begin to flex and relax, flex and relax, sucking, swallowing me further down—pulling my enormous head further down his throat. The rhythmic swelling of my cock combined with his frantic dry swallowing pushes me over the edge. I can feel his need. He needs it because I need it. It heats him up and I can see sweat erupting from every pore on his forehead. I throw my head back and let out an animalistic sound that only seems to make him more intent. My balls seize up, pull close to my body, and I can feel the huge volume of my thick milky wad traveling from my nuts through my insides. I feel my prostate pumping erratically, forcing the fluid through me with deep urgency. I feel like a god in that moment. I feel that the universe is bursting from my cock. Indeed, it is. I shoot deep down his thickly muscled throat. His swallowing rhythm picks up and if he lost control for the slightest moment, I know he would be able to easily turn this fucking amazing experience into one of tragedy—even his throat muscles needed extreme control—but he knows just how much pressure to exert, just how to control the cosmic power that seemed to exist in every single muscle fiber on his immense body. What a good boy. The control he has over himself—every little bit of himself—is positively stupefying. But from the beginning, I had required him to be aware of his strength and he had yet to let me down. I know he will never let me down and I will never let him down. He was and is my good bull pup. Ever breath he takes is mine, and we both know it. Are you hard yet? I am, and I love it. It’s good to be a virile horny man. But let’s turn back the clock a few months, shall we? I love to workout in the morning, especially on the weekends. There aren’t many of The Bros at that time, and the ones that are there in the mornings are at least serious about lifting and move around without hogging all of the space. Of course, I do catch them flexing their bro-science-induced muscles and taking selfies. They are at least enjoyable to look at, especially when they bend over to pick up something from the floor. I love a tight muscled ass. It gives me a good place to plant my unusually large cock. But this was a new gym. I had only been yesterday as I had recently moved to town and was still getting settled in. I get so annoyed when I skip a lifting day. It completely ruins the rest of the afternoon. So, I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled around the house, trying to avoid all of the packing boxes that I hadn’t been able to put away yet. That was going to be a project—and one I didn’t want to start yet. A good workout was a way of procrastinating, I guess. I walked into the gym and saw the young guy that I signed up with the day before manning the front desk again. He is far too small for me, but cute still. And he seemed to be interested. We laughed a bit and he put a smile on my face. Nice guy. I know I’m a good-looking man; at least that’s what I have been told. I would definitely fuck me. That’s the best you can ask for, right? But I’m not huge, just well worked out. My tendency to a swimmer’s body with long lean muscle has made it difficult to put on a significant mass, but I have definition and decent size. Confidence had never been a weakness, but I’m no ass hole. I just know my worth. For the past few months, I have been getting more into my fetish headspace. The web-community of domination and submission has become one of my hobbies and I am discovering so much more about stretching the limits of my desires, even the buried ones. Those are the most exciting. Dominant/submissive is definitely my preferred community. The idea of dominating another man sends me into an almost-frenzied state. My need to dominate has been increasing and I can shoot enormous amounts of cum when I close my eyes and imagine becoming the Master to a hulking flexing pile of meat. I don’t know why, but it sends me into the stratosphere. Today would be my lucky day. After I passed the front desk, I quickly scanned the gym to refresh myself on the layout. It was chest day and I had noticed that there was only one flat bench in the place. Seriously? I would have to talk to the owner about that. There were a few bros in the dumbbell area. Hopefully they would be gone before I moved to that area. And there were the requisite middle-aged ladies doing some sort of speed walking on the treadmills. Very typical for mid-Saturday morning. Fuck, someone was already on the bench. I could see some shoes on the ground and hands on the bar. Oh well. I guess I would be making a new friend. Then he sat up and my breath caught. The fucker was huge. He was very well built, but he was so god damned tall, even sitting down I could tell. And he was HOT. Hazel eyes, dark hair, square jaw, and a set of lips I could tell would be like muscular pillows to suck on and chew. Even from a bit of a distance, he looked like the man in my dreams that I jacked off to last night – not once, not twice, but thrice. (Yes, that’s normal. I produce a remarkable amount of cum…and pre-cum, if you’re asking). I could feel myself getting hard. Fortunately, like I said, I’m confident…and I’m handsome myself. I can handle this guy. He had lain back down on the bench and he had earbuds in. “Hey man. Do you mind if I work in with you? There’s only one bench, can you believe that?” The beast looked up at me, slightly annoyed. Somehow this excited me. He pulled the buds out of his ears and just stared at me. It wasn’t an angry stare, just a stare. I ventured a friendly, “Are you OK?” I had no idea what the big lug was thinking. He was still huge and hot though. I didn’t move. I do remember that he broke my gaze first and looked down at the ground, almost submissively. I felt my cock twitch again. Whatever game just started, I liked it. It turned me on. My insides were fluttering and my heart was pounding. If we were playing cat and mouse, I think the roles had just been set. I was NOT the mouse. Time to exert myself a bit. “I’m going to work in with you.” That wasn’t too difficult. I smiled, proud of myself. He didn’t say anything but wouldn’t look at me. He placed his hands on the bar…this guy should have been lifting so much more weight. I wondered why he was lifting so light. I was gonna push him and see what he could do. I had a feeling that he’d want to show me by the time we were done. He started lifting and I was gob smacked by the breadth and thickness of his pecs. They jutted out well past his rib cage, huge hard pillows. As he lowered and then pressed up the weight, I could actually see striations pressing against his thin t-shirt. Veins erupted from his bulging forearms. I think the ham I made last Easter was smaller than one of his forearms. I got a little harder and started leaking my sweet juices. Just the smell of this guy wafting up from the bench a couple of feet under me…god, this was going to be a problem. He finished with his set, quite quickly actually. He just lay there a moment so I decided to push him a little. “OK Big Man, let me have a go.” He paused again and I swear I saw his substantial bulge grow, just a little bit. He jumped up and I got down on the bench. I couldn’t help myself. I looked up at him as soon as he got into spotting position. I couldn’t even see his face. His pecs overhung so much. They were all I could see, obscuring my view of anything else – except for his fucking huge arms. And his legs. And his apparently large package. He was a big boy in every sense of the word. I could smell him—his musk. His man smell. His smell was driving me insane. I wanted him. All of him. Every bit of him. Heart, soul, mind, muscle. All of him. He was mine. He just didn’t know it quite yet. I pushed out the set quickly. “How much do you want to go up to?” I was grinning. What a monster. Did he even know how hot he was? I could feel my shorts were a bit wet from pre-cumming almost constantly for the past several minutes. What emerged as an answer to my question was a jumbled mess but I caught what I believed to be “four plates….Danny.” “Ok, Danny.” As soon as his name left my lips, I swear I could feel him getting turned on. His smell was pure testosterone, power, strength—but I could tell he was deferring somehow to me…that he was nervous. Was this happening? I had no idea what I was doing, but whatever it was, it played out as if it were a dream. A steamy, sexy, ejaculation-inducing dream. Danny got back on the bench, raised his huge fucking mitts to the bar and started pushing out reps. His arms and shoulders were exploding with size. His pecs were bunching and bulging. Trickles of sweat were running down his face. He started to slow down. “More,” I said quietly, intently, with authority. And he renewed his speed and energy without another word. Did I just command this enormous monstrosity to push out more? I was getting far too turned on. Whoever Danny was, I wanted him more every minute. After we were done with bench, I went my own way. I needed to clear my mind. Was Danny interested in me? Why was he so skittish? What the fuck was going on? Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to let him leave without confirming my suspicions. I would be waiting for him in the locker room. That was decided. I caught him looking at me and he would catch my eye and then look away nervously. The guy was the size of my bathroom but he was behaving like a tentative child wondering if he had done something wrong. He hadn’t. He had only done things that were right. I caught him again. He had a hard-on and a wet spot was growing on his shorts where I could see the strong outline of his cock. He was pre-cumming, maybe shooting a load while looking at me. The scent of Danny was all I could smell. Jock, muscle, funky power, salty sweetness of sex. It was addictive. I wanted more and I would have it, most surely. When workout time looked like it was winding down, I went into the locker room. I would be waiting. “Hey Danny.” His eyes went wide as he saw me waiting for him at my locker. “Looks like you were feeling good out there.” I glanced down to the wet spot on his shorts. He looked slightly uncomfortable so I put him at ease, “My name’s Brandon.” Danny was breathing heavily. His melon-like shoulders were rising and falling. I could see his nipples fighting with his shirt, wanting to rip through them. His leg-sized arms dangled to his side. I wanted to lick them, tracing my tongue up the thumb-sized vein on his bicep. He had done a good job preparing for me. Where did that last thought come from? What was happening? I wanted to control him. To be his alpha, Master, GOD. Suddenly, something shifted inside of me. I don’t know how to describe it. I felt an explosion of authority and confidence in myself. He was mine already. I just had to take him. I stuck my hand out to shake his. He looked like he was going to faint. “Are you OK? Danny? Danny?” There is nothing more in the world that I wanted than to protect him, make sure he was ok, be sure he was safe. I reached up to shake his shoulder. I could barely make my way around his jutting hard pecs. Part of my wanted to twist his erect nipples, tear his shirt off, and start sucking. He was mine now. I could tell. Something had happened to him, and it was in my favor. “Danny, take your clothes off and go get in the shower.” It was hard to ignore his erection. It was even more difficult to ignore mine. I could feel authority course through me mingled with my blood. He had given me a gift—the gift of dominance. I would not betray his gift. Things were clear. Just as the words left my mouth, he looked down at his thin, skin-hugging shirt, wrapped one of his gorilla-sized hands around the collar, and pulled down tearing the shirt from his body. He shrugged off the fabric and stood there for a moment, breathing heavy, muscles twisting, flexing, powering up. He was magnificent. Nothing could prepare me for his bulk. His pecs were far more spectacular than I imagined they were. It shocking sometims what clothes can hide. A network of veins pulsed under the thin skin. His nipples were quarter sized and fixed to the skin on the outer edge of his squared off chest meat. His shoulders and traps struggled for space next to his head and above his arms. I don’t know how he worked those things into such a work of art. Bicep curls don’t build anything close to what he had for his arms. He tore off his shorts in similar fashion revealing possibly the most impressive part of his body yet. His legs were pile drivers. The power contained in them, I cannot imagine. He could lift the backside of a truck, I have no doubts. He looked back at me and waddled away to the shower, like a good pup, revealing an ass sculpted by the gods. I would spend plenty of time inside of his hard, velvet-lined vault. It wasn’t a question at this point. It was mine. Mine only. His shower was short and I was waiting patiently for his return. I wanted to bathe in him. I had so many things that I wanted to explore with him—and somehow, I knew he would comply completely. He was mine. Danny was mine. I wanted him, and he was mine. I can’t explain why or how I knew. As he immerged from the shower, he looked bigger, stronger, and more powerful. He looked more at ease, as if he had accepted something. I think I knew what. I walked to him, ran my hand over his chest feeling the permanent striations on his pecs. I twisted his nipples, felt the power of his arms, and stroked my hand along the side of his face. I looked up at him with one question that I needed the answer to—an answer that would shape the rest of our lives. “Danny,” I spoke his name with intention, with passion, with need, with my own brand of power. “Tell me what you are thinking about.” “You, Master. I am thinking of you.” His body tensed up. Muscles pushed against the skin all over his body. His quads separated into a vast network of individual bulging bands, some feathered with minute muscle fibers which somehow reminded me of huge hard feathers. His hands were clenched. His chest rose and fell quickly. Every muscle on his body seemed to harden and expand. His erect cock pulled back like a cannon. He looked down at me, looking through me as if in a trance. I instinctively knew what was coming next and that he needed me to take control. He was a man on the edge of pure bliss, but it was not time yet. “Danny, you will not cum until I command you to.” “Yes, Master. I will wait for you to tell me to cum.” “Do you want to please me, Danny?” “That is why I exist. To please you.” Somehow this was right. I felt my own power over this muscle beast growing by the second. It was intoxicating. I had never been that hard before. I needed to cum. “Pick me up, pup, and put my cock in your mouth. I have a gift for you.” His enormous hands instantly surrounded my waist and I was hoisted quickly into the air with ease, but gently. He lifted his arms above his head until my tumescent cock was pointing toward his waiting mouth. This close to him, I could feel his hot ragged breath against my skin. He was holding me up, all 205 pounds of lean, defined muscle, as if I were a stuffed animal. That thought alone was reason to shoot my load into him. He pulled me slightly closer to him and his beautiful, muscular lips surrounded my throbbing veiny huge cock. He took me all in—pushed my body into his face and started sucking like a greedy little boy slurping down his favorite ice cream. The feeling was unlike anything I have ever felt. I have never felt that sort of connection before. He was sucking my huge 10” dick like it was nothing, but it was more than that. There was an energy that was created, something that was larger than either of us alone. I could feel my load preparing to fly through my body and into his. My large egg-sized balls lifted closer to my body. I let out a deep groan and put my hands down on the top of his head to steady myself. He continued to suck, holding me easily in the air, my cock in his mouth. I bucked again and again fucking his face. Then I unloaded. I shot continuously for 20 seconds. It was not the pumping, cyclical rhythm of a typical nut bust. It was as if a hose turned on. My cum flooded out of me in a steady powerful stream. He opened his throat, I could feel it. The juice surging from my churning balls, through my body, through my wide-open prostate, and out through my plum-sized cock head blasted into Danny with extreme force and pressure. I could feel his muscular neck swallowing my liquid claim to him. He swallowed and swallowed and swallowed every drop. When I was done, he pulled my cock half-way out of his mouth and softly licked my slit with the tip of his tongue. He wanted every drop I had to give. His chest was rising and falling in dramatic fashion as I looked down at his moon shaped shoulders, his volleyball sized arms, and his swollen cock (which I could only see through the 3 inch deep cleavage of his pecs). “Put me down Danny. There will be plenty more of that, pup.” “Yes, sir.” He swiftly, yet carefully lowered me down to the floor. I realized that my mouth level was right at his nipple line. That would come in handy shortly. Someone needed to milk those things…and the only one to be touching him would be me. Good thing I like dairy. “Danny, you’re a good bull pup, aren’t you.” It was half question, half statement. “I am your good pup, Master. I only want to please you. I will do anything for you.” I knew it was the truth. It was in his eyes. Suddenly, I felt the lust from touching and looking at his body be replaced momentarily by a deep compassion…maybe love even…but definitely a profound respect. This beast of a man had been preparing for me for a long time—building his body to serve his future Master and lover. It hit me like a lightning strike. “Danny, I accept your offering. You are safe with me, and I know that I am safe with you. It’s time for you to get huge for me. There is nothing more in this world that I desire more than your body erupting into a hulking beast of indescribably strength and power. Does that excite you?” “I haven’t even begun to grow, Master. I can feel it. I feel as if I am about to burst. I will make you proud.” As soon as he said the word “proud,” I swear I saw every millimeter of his body expand slightly, as if he had willed his greater size into existence. Shit, given his build and his height, it must have been 20 pounds of solid beef…in a matter of a second. What was he capable of? “Pup, did you just grow?” A worried look briefly crossed his face. “Yes, Sir. You wanted me to get bigger. That is your will.” He looked down as if I would be angry or disappointed. “You did well, Pup. Though next time, I will tell you to grow directly. Is that understood.” My cock was rising to full mast again. “Yes. I will only grow when you desire and direct me. Master, it is not I though. I have never spontaneously grown before. It is you that did that.” My balls seized up again and I felt the surge of cum once again flowing through me like liquid light. “Danny, I’m going to cum again.” There was urgency in my voice that he sensed. Before I knew it, his warm mouth surrounded me again as he knelt in front of me. I unloaded another round of thick sweet juice into my hulk-of-a-boy. His throat again wrapped around my cock like a velvet covered hand, sending waves of flexing and relaxing down along my cock, milking me of every sweet drop. Fuck, it felt like he was giving me a hand job with his throat. I couldn’t wait until we were in private. At the same time, I couldn’t wait to show him like a prized stallion to the world. There would be plenty of time for that. The universe had just opened up and given me a gift. His name was Danny. I could not wait to build Danny into something that had never experienced before and the ride had already started. Danny stayed on his knees after he sucked me off the second time. He lowered his head at my chest level. I put my hands on his bulging shoulders and simply said, “Let’s go home.”

“Can I lick it, Danny?” There was a need in his eyes—a look I was familiar with. The one asking was a good-looking guy. Standing at 5’ 9” he was of average height. He did possess a great solid pair of pecs, broad globes for shoulders, well-worked arms, and above average legs. He even had a hard high and round ass on him. I made the choice to meet him at the bar tonight, I needed to throw some water on the fire of my own needs. Maybe he would fill that need I had growing inside of me. I hadn’t been able to identify the feelings I had been having lately, but whatever it was, I was looking for something to quench them. I knew, within 2 minutes of idle chat that he would be a decent fuck, but nothing more. What a shame. I knew that deep inside me—inside my soul—a ravenous, almost-crazed beast was circling its holding cell. I had felt it stir for years and still didn’t understand it completely. Whatever it was, it was becoming more familiar, more “me,” more of what I want, and more of what I could be. What I could feed it tonight would only appease my most basic and fundamental physical need, nothing more, something like handing the pacing suppressed tiger one of those horribly insufficient cracker snacks they hand out on airplane flights. It was something, but it only served to create a deeper hunger. The thing in me was becoming more powerful, more needy, more…unpredictable. At the same time, that deep desire fed so many of my actions. I was searching for something but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. Ultimately, tonight had been nothing more than an ego stroke, or maybe better put—something to take the edge off. I really didn’t have much of an ego, per se. Most people would be shocked to know that I really struggle with my self-esteem. Of course, they base this purely on my physical appearance. I’ve worked out so hard for the past few years. It has been hard since I had been so thin growing up. But the thing inside of me, when it was still a quiet voice, slowly began making demands that I grow in strength and size. I obeyed. I am very good at obeying the voice now. At 6’7” and close to 280 pounds, I was what most would call “head-turning.” Maybe I was handsome, maybe not (I suppose that really depends on who is making the judgment) but my body was something I had worked hard on. I had very broad shoulders. I had enormous arms; I paid equal attention to my triceps and biceps. The results were quite impressive. My legs were full hard pillars that made the seams nearly rip on my pants. My waist had always been small, and still it measured about 32 inches. For my height and weight, it really was hard finding clothes that fit well in the waist. My ass was powerful. I could admit that. It was a product of deep squats and hundreds of hours of lunges. And then there was my chest. I had seen grown men drool at the ham-sized bags of hard flesh that erupted from my collarbone and bulged out several inches. My nipples stood erect at the outside bottom corners of my remarkably globular chest muscles. I was mostly lean, but had just a bit of extra padding that prevented much definition of my abs. It was my trouble spot. Some thought I was a sight to behold. Some thought that I was too big. I would get stares frequently from men and women alike. I took it as a compliment, but it never really mattered. Something was missing. But the beast inside of me kept egging me on. And so I kept lifting, and eating…and from time to time, I would pin myself with some good ol’ testosterone. My desire to become bigger, stronger, massive increased and escalated. I began to feel recently that my desire for growth, strength, and power was exponentially increasing. I couldn’t imagine ever thinking I could be too powerful, too huge, too freaky. It wasn’t possible. But again, I had always felt that a piece to the puzzle was missing. Something that I had only recently began to realize. “Seriously Danny. I want to lick it.” My trick for the night had a pleading look in his eyes. I raised my left arm again and flexed my forearm for him. He let out a deep guttural groan. The definition in my forearms was really quite something. Ridges and deep valleys ran from my thick wrist to my bulging elbow becoming meatier as they reached toward the bicep. A vast network of veins pulsed beneath my skin. Large vessels permanently traversed my arms but when I flexed, countless smaller veins emerged from their bed just below my very thin skin. His tongue (I don’t even know his name) went straight for the hard meat bulging outward from my flexed forearm. I could sense his desire. He was jacking off with his right hand. His left was pinching my right nipple. It felt good on some level to be worshipped for the hard-won meat that had sent him nearly into muscle induced trance. “Oh my fuck. I want you to fuck me so bad, Danny. So hard.” His breath was ragged. Mine was too. I had let myself get hard as he licked my arm. It felt good—though not satisfying. “I bet with that ass, you could fuck a hole through a steel door.” I could smell the lust oozing from his sweat. He grabbed my rising cock in his hand and stroked it lightly. Maybe this would be worth it after all. “Holy fuck, Danny. Your cock is huge man…and your balls. Fuck man.” He had descended into full worship. His eyes traveled from my forearm down to my now-tumescent pole. It was definitely a grower – not that it started out small. But like the rest of me, it was thick and of appropriate size. He looked into my big hazel eyes again and then lowered his head onto my cock. His mouth was warm and wet. He was a talented cock sucker. Jacking me off with one hand, sliding down my pole with his mouth as it followed the hand all the way to the base where my cock connected to my body. His other hand cupped my balls. I had to admit, they were big boys. At 6’7”, anyone’s nuts would need to be big to be in proportion, but mine were large, even for my size. I could feel them beginning to churn their heavy load. I didn’t have much control of this, I told myself. I was quickly reaching autopilot even if this wasn’t how I hoped tonight would end up. His hand left my churning bull balls and reached up to twist my nipple again. He pulled his hot mouth off of my surging cock, “Danny, you got to fuck me man. I just have to have you inside of me. I want you to tear me up. Break me in half, Danny. PLEASE!” If I hadn’t been so horny at the moment, I wouldn’t take his pleading as a bit of a turn-off, but here I was, shorts around my ankles getting sucked and teased by an attractive guy. The beast inside of me paced back and forth in its cage, quieting down as the physical need to cum began to build. None of this felt right but like I said…autopilot. The guy crawled onto the bed from his knees where he had been. He stuck his round, high, hard ass into the air and I descended on him. I wasn’t after foreplay here. I needed to get off. I pushed my cock into him with ease. This was obviously not his first time taking a throbbing muscular cock up his ass. I pumped him a few times, enjoying the sensation of my shaft drilling deep into his hole. I was close. I vaguely remember some shouting, “harder, harder, fuck yeah!” I threw back my head, shut my eyes, and released my cream into him. I filled him up. Then I fell asleep. I never could stay awake after cumming hard. The next morning, I woke up in my bed. The guy must have left after he got what he needed from me. Nothing had been stolen that I could see, so that was good. It was time to work out. The tiger was circling the cage again. I could feel something building inside of me. The feeling of deep need, desire, and emptiness felt more acute today. It was almost unbearable. A good session of heavy lifting usually helped. When I arrived at the gym, it was still quiet. Most people don’t seem to arrive very early on a Saturday so I had most of the place to myself. There were a few younger guys over by the dumb bells, a few middle-aged women walking on the treadmills, and me. My lifting partner was out of town for the weekend but I was happy enough today doing my routine solo. And then there was that strange beast inside of me that was acting up today. Whenever I felt that strange anxiousness, I worked my chest. It seemed to calm me. Maybe that is why they had developed so well. They were practically utters—hard fucking utters. I put my earbuds in and blocked out the world. Lowering myself to the bench, I put on 195 for warm-ups. I knocked a set out lightning fast. I got up to put a few more plates on and glanced toward the door. Someone else was coming in. I hope it didn’t get too busy. There was only one flat bench in the place—an issue that I had repeatedly asked the owner to rectify. A few minutes later, as I lay down flat, eyes closed, imagining my next lift, I heard a distant voice. “Excuse me.” I could only hear it distantly through the music I was listening to. My eyes snapped open and I saw a face looking down at me with a smile. I hate being interrupted while I lift. And besides that, it’s rude to interrupt when someone is about to start their set. I sat up and pulled the buds out of my ears and swung around to face the offending party. “Do you mind if I work in with you?” I stared up at his eyes, deep brown and looking directly at mine. He didn’t flinch. It surprised me a bit. I was obviously much larger than he was. Standing at maybe 5’10” he had dark Mediterranean features—Italian or Spanish I would guess—full lips, exotic eyes, high broad cheekbones, and a square jaw. He wasn’t built big like me, but he was obviously no stranger to the weights. Maybe a thick swimmers build would describe him best. I couldn’t look away. Neither did he. Something was happening as he looked at me. I don’t know if he was aware of it. In fact, it seemed he wasn’t. But I was. His voice was deep and thick like a rich cup of hot chocolate and it licked my ears. “Are you OK?” His voice wrapped itself around my balls and started tugging. God, I couldn’t break his stare, but I wanted to. He just held me there. “I’m going to work in with you.” His statement was not a question. A smile spread across his face revealing perfect white teeth. My heart was racing. What was happening? He took his track jacket off revealing his workout tank top. He had good definition and size upon looking more closely. Something about him made me hesitant to look too long though. I felt…exposed, as if he could see into me. His glance had an almost physical nature—it caressed me. “I’ll jump in after this set. Go ahead. I’ll spot you.” It was a light weight for me since I didn’t have a workout partner that day, but I didn’t protest. I lay back on the bench, placed my hands in their correct position on the bar and looked up. His flat stomach was just above me. I could see the obvious and large bulge in his shorts only a few inches from my head. This guy must be three-quarters donkey with that kind of equipment. And I could smell his musk. He smelled like a man, freshly clean, but emitting powerful pheromones. He smelled like heaven and sex and strength. I couldn’t begin to describe it. It smelled like unapologetic authority. I could see his chest slightly overhang and press out against his shirt, expanding and contracting with every breath. He didn’t have huge pecs like I did, but they were perfect for his size. He looked down at me and smiled again. “Go ahead.” Without thinking, I found the bar in my hands lifted to the ceiling ready to begin my set. I hadn’t even thought about the lift…it just happened. I pumped out 15 reps – the weight was light—and something inside of me wanted to show off a little bit. “OK Big Man, let me have a go.” When he said Big Man, the beast inside began shaking and rattling at its cage. That’s the only way I could describe it. Something was building inside of me, and it was building quickly. What was it about him? God, I just couldn’t even think straight around him. I moved away from the bench and he got on. I was starting to sweat a bit, even thought the weight was light. My heart was racing. He started pumping out his reps, breathing in and exhaling, I watched his body, admiring his form. His arms were covered with thick dark hair. His chest was getting a good pump as were his triceps. And that huge package…my mouth went dry every time I glanced that direction. Standing over him seemed wrong somehow. But I had a job to do, and if he faltered for even a second, I would be there to be sure he was all right. He finished his set and jumped off the bench. “How much do you want to go up to?” He asked with that smile on his face. “Ummmm. Let’s add four more plates. My name’s Danny by the way.” It all came out quickly like it was one word. Shit, I was tongue-tied. Embarrassing. I was close to my max with the new amount of weight, but I wanted to impress him. He seemed nonplussed, but I thought I detected a grin when I told him how many plates to add. I got back on the bench. “OK Danny.” My heart shot up into my throat. I could feel my cock getting hard. He just said my name and it sounded like a velvet-covered finger stroking my ass. “Go ahead.” I pushed out most of the set without slowing. I started faltering on the last couple of reps. He looked down at me and simply said, “More.” I didn’t even think about the weight or counting my reps. I did at least 5 or 6 more reps. I could feel my pecs pressing out against my shirt, nipples hard and erect and scraping themselves against the fabric as it stretched out from the insane pump I was getting. I was dripping sweat. My upper body felt fucking amazing and completely engorged. God, I felt strong. He made me feel strong. This guy. Whoever he was. He made me feel invincible. Fuck. I could hardly hear anything, my heart was pumping hard. The beast inside was banging at the gate. “That was good.” He said it simply, but locked eyes with me again as he said it and I knew that he was satisfied with what he told me to do. I looked at him and then looked away. We worked out the rest of the session separated. I kept looking over to what he was doing. I wanted to be working out with him, but he hadn’t invited me and I was not about to intrude. He had a powerful looking ass himself, likely built in this very room. I bet he had some impressive thrust too. My vision blurred as I imagined him entering me with force, my hole enveloping his impressive cock. I snapped out of my daydream only to find a half-erection and my hands rubbing my pecs and twisting my sensitive nipples subconsciously. I was leaking precum. I couldn’t believe I had zoned out like that in public. I looked over to where he was and saw that he was staring at me with that smile on his face. I turned away. My cheeks were red and my erection withered away. Fuck…he saw. I walked into the locker room a few minutes later. I couldn’t believe that I had been fantasizing like that in the middle of the gym. Shit. And HE saw it all. “Hey Danny. Looks like you were feeling good out there.” The guy was opening his locker just a couple down from mine. “It’s all good. Don’t be embarrassed. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. I liked the show.” He flashed me that mischievous smile again. “My name’s Brandon.” I was having tunnel vision. Brandon extended his hand to shake mine. The beast inside of me was raging, banging at the door, shouting for release. I could barely hear myself think. I took his hand and looked in his eyes. He looked at me, almost seriously. “Are you OK, Danny?” There it was again. My name wrapped in silk. He was licking my hard nipples, kissing my mouth, ramming my ass—all with his voice. “Danny?” My eyes had glazed over. I could tell. I was in a different place. What was happening to me? “Yes?” I said plainly. Distantly. Fuck, the beast was coming through the door. Brandon was letting it out. Brandon. Brandon. My mind went blank and the world became sharply focused. Something had just happened. Something…shifted inside of me. Shifted – that’s the best word for it. Brandon. His name repeated over and over in my head. Brandon reached out to shake me awake, I remember that now. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Danny?” My eyes snapped open and looked up but not at him. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I was barely worthy to be this close to him. Things had just changed for me. I wasn’t afraid of the beast any more. I was the beast. The beast now belonged to Brandon. I was now Brandon’s—Brandon’s property to do with what he desired. Everything was clear. I felt overwhelming calm and devastating power pouring through every cell in my body. “Danny, take your clothes off and go get in the shower.” I didn’t think. I only responded. Almost before the last word was out of his mouth, I reached up to my collar and pulled the almost-too-tight t-shirt off of my body in one quick movement. The shirt ripped cleanly down my chest and my hulking torso was laid bare. I was in a trance almost. My thumbs snagged the waistband of my shorts and pulled ripping them off of me. My cock went from soft to hardest-in-my-life in about 5 seconds. I started dripping viscous ribbons of precum honey. Long strands of it flowed from my cock head to the ground. I was not even thinking. I did not have to think. I only had to do what he said. I was in nirvana. I stood there for a moment, hoping that he approved of my body. My chest was pumped beyond anything I had felt before. My arms and shoulders had striations threatening to burst of the skin. My legs were quivering with strength and power. Veins crossed over their surface. I could feel my traps straining to reach my ears. Every part of my body sought his approval. His glance dismissed me to the shower stalls but I noticed a small, almost imperceptible glimmer in his eye and the slightest smile. I kept looking down and backed away, walked to the shower and got in. I was so hard. No one had ever turned me on more—not even remotely. And he had only said my name and given me a simple command. I showered quickly, rinsing myself off. I knew he was waiting for me. I dried off in the stall and walked back to the bank of lockers around the corner. He stood there, eyes drilling into my soul. He was appraising me. Weighing, measuring, assessing, making judgments, pondering, I don’t know what else. It wasn’t my concern. My only concern was his will. What he desired, wanted, needed. I felt cock rising again and my fuck hole quiver. It was hungry for him. Only he could fill me—emotionally, mentally, and physically. He took a step toward me, looking up into my avoidant eyes. He was so close; I could feel his warm sweet breath on my chest. Galactic power coursed through my thick hard bull muscles fed by angry thickening ropes of veins and arteries. “Tell me what you’re thinking about, Danny.” * I am adding a photo of my muse, Danny, on the weight bench so you can have an idea of what you will be reading about, and J/O'ing to for the rest of the story. You're welcome. There are also some more photos on the second page of comments that I added.

Blue Pill Part 16 James was in a state of shock as he looked down at the muscle bound man at the end of his dick. He couldn’t believe that just moments ago he was fucking his supple, voluptuous wife. “Sarah? Is that still you? Are you ok?” James asked with a worried look on his face. “Mmmmm I’ve never felt better baby.” The voice that rumbled from the throat of his used to be wife, sounded nothing like her former self. It was deep and rugged. It made his dick pulse inside his wife. James was taken out of his train of thought as he heard a deep moaning coming from beneath him. He looked down to see that Sarah had reached up and began pinching one of her tender swollen nipples. Milk began flowing freely from the nipple as her other hand stroked her newly formed 7 inch dick. “My god James! If I knew that being a man would feel this good, I would have had you do this to me a long time ago.” James could see the lust in Sarah’s eyes as she started stroking her pre-cum slicked dick faster. James’s dick pulsed harder in Sarah’s ass at the sight of her tweaking her nip as she stroked her dick. He knew he needed to pull out before she got any bigger. He needed to think of a way to reverse the effect and make his wife a woman again. James began to slowly back his dick out of his wife until the head popped out of her ass. James couldn’t believe how much his dick had grown. It looked like it was almost a foot long now. Had to be close to 8 inches thick. It was covered in veins and his cock head was huge. That was nothing compared to his bull balls. They hung low in his sack almost the size of baseballs. James felt relief as his dick head popped out. He thought for sure that he was going to burst. Before James knew what was happening, Sarah had wrapped her newly muscular legs behind his back and pulled him in closer to her, driving his enraged cock head back into her waiting hole. Sarah and James both let out a moan in unison as Sarah drove her husband’s dick further into her ass. James became panicked as he knew what cumming inside his wife would do. He tried pulling out against his wife’s legs, but she had become quite strong from all of his cum. James knew he was stronger though, but for how much longer. James willed his muscles to push harder as his dick began to pull back out. The whole time his bulbous cock head was rubbing against his wife’s prostate. Sarah let out another deep moan and her head fell back as she started firing cum everywhere out of her bucking 7 incher. The sight before him was almost too much for James, he was right on the edge of orgasm. He was almost out of Sarah when he felt to hands on his pillow like pecs. He then felt fingers grasp on to his super sensitive nips as it pushed him over the edge. “Yeah! Cum for me daddy. Fill me with your seed. Make me huge!” Sarah had an almost evil glint in her eye as she twisted James’s nipples. “You want your daddy’s dick that bad, then you’re going to take it all.” James, finally giving into his lust, slammed his dick back into Sarah, driving into her hole over and over again as he fired load after load into her ass. James watched as the body beneath him began to swell larger. Sarah’s traps rose higher as her neck got thicker. James watched as her arms bulged with more mass closing in on 19 inches. James could feel Sarah’s legs surge in size behind him as they slowly began crushing into his back. Sarah’s pecs ballooned even more as they filled with more muscle milk, almost making them look like breasts again. James started to become even more worried as he realized his wife was closing in on his size. James felt his wife’s ass get tighter around his dick as it grew with more muscle, pushing her up higher off the bench and taking his dick with it. While his wife was in a state of Euphoria from all the milk flooding into her pecs, he started backing up, pushing her legs back and pulling his dick out. He was finally to the very end, but his dick head was so large and her ass was so tight that it didn’t want to come out. He pulled with all of his might, until with a loud *POP* sound, his dick came out, releasing a torrent of his jizz along with it. Sarah began bucking her hips from the feeling of her husband’s massive cock head destroying her ring. Cum began flying from the tip of Sarah’s almost 9 inch dick as she moaned on the bench. James knew this was his chance. He needed to get away before his wife got any bigger. He quickly darted underneath Sarah’s thick legs and bolted for the gym entrance. James got to the front door and heard moans and what sounded like the banging of a head board form the top of the stairs. “No time to investigate, I’ve got to get to the lab and find a way to reverse this!” James snuck out of the house quietly. Leaving his hot muscular wife in his home gym and his son and that behemoth upstairs in his bedroom… Chris couldn’t get over the size of Derek. Chris straddled Derek’s torso as he slowly ran his hands along the ridges of his abdominals. Working his way up to his perky hard nipples that rested just under his bulbous rock hard pecs. His pecs were so full and thick that they jutted out almost 6 inches from his body. Chris stuck his finger in the gap between Derek’s pecs, feeling the curvature of his mountainous pecs. Chris continued his adventure of Derek’s body as his hands felt along the bowling balls of muscle Derek called his shoulders. Chris couldn’t believe how far they pushed out. His shoulders pushed so far out that he was twice as wide as Chris’s relatively athletic build. Chris traced the veins along his shoulders down to his biceps. Chris gasped when he saw just how big they had become. They were about the size of his head. They had to be closing in on 22 inches. They were truly massive. This only made Chris realize how bad he wanted Derek’s muscles all for himself. Chris knew that in order to get Derek to take the pills he was going to have to make him swallow them. “How am I going to get him to take these damn pills? He will never agree to give up his muscles.” Just like that Chris got an idea. Slowly getting off of Derek so as not to disturb him, Chris darted out of his room and into his fathers’ room across the hall. He noticed his father had left his closet light on. “Dad?! Are you still here?” Chris looked around the bedroom to see if he could see any signs of movement. He listened carefully as the house was dead quiet. Chris walked into his dad’s closet and reached onto the top shelf next to some old hiking gear as he pulled down a handful of rope. Chris walked quickly out of his father’s bedroom as his heart caught in his stomach. Down the stairs he could see his mom coming through the front door. It appears as if she had just gotten back from her jog. Chris ducked down, hoping she hadn’t seen him. “James honey, are you home?” Chris could hear his mom’s footsteps coming up the stairs. Chris didn’t believe in prayer much, but at that point he needed any kind of miracle he could get. As if it couldn’t have been better timed, a deep guttural moaning sound came from downstairs in the direction of their home gym. Chris breathing began to return to normal as he heard his mother’s footsteps retreat back down the stairs. “James is that you? CHRIST JAMES! What the hell happened to you?!?” Chris heard the gym door close and didn’t hear his father’s response. Curious, Chris began heading down the stairs to see what had startled his mother so much about his dad. “Fuck it, I will find out later. I have a body to grow.” With that said Chris turned around and headed back up the stairs with rope in hand. Chris returned to his bedroom and closed the door, making sure to not slam it, he didn’t want to awaken the muscle beast lying on his bed. Chris approached the bed and reached underneath one of Derrick’s thick hard calves. He wrapped the rope around it, making a noose and slowly tightening it. Chris lowered the first leg and repeated the process with the other. He tied the first rope holding Derek’s legs, firmly to the underside of the bed so he wouldn’t be able to kick. Next Chris used the same noose technique on Derek’s hands tightening the rope connecting them under the bed. Chris then tied a rope underneath the bed and wrapped it around underneath Derek’s bulging pecs so it would help stabilize his torso to the bed. To get the party started, Chris slapped Derek across the face. “Wakey, wakey asshole. Time to pay me back what you stole and then some.” Derek startled and sucked in air as he came to. The rope around his torso creaking as he drew in the sharp breath. Derek yanked at the line holding his hands tied together and realized he wasn’t strong enough to break free. “What the fuck do you want Chris?” Derek said in a panicked voice. “Oh you know exactly what I want, and you’re going to give it to me!” Chris reached down and began fondling Derek’s massive python. Even soft it was enough to fill both of Chris’s hands. Chris massaged Derek’s dick for a while and got no reaction. “I won’t give you what you want Chris. This is my body now. My muscles. My dick.” “You see Derek, that’s where you’re wrong. If you remember correctly, you were nothing when you came into my house and I was everything. I was a god. Now I’m going to take my god status back whether you are going to comply or not.” Chris jumped off the bed and walked into his bathroom. “How did he regain that size? He looks as big as I did before I stole his muscles.” Derek wondered out loud as Chris returned with a bottle in his hand. He set the bottle on his night stand next to Derek’s head. Chris then picked a bottle up off the floor, Derek instantly recognized the bottle. Chris popped the lid off, dropping a black pill into his hand. “Let’s see, I took this last time and lost everything. So now if you take it, I will gain everything back.” “Chris, you don’t have to do this! Look how good you look now! With a little time in the gym you could be back to your old size in no time.” Derek pleaded as Chris straddled Derek’s torso again. Chris leaned forward with the pill in his hand as he tried to push it into Derek’s mouth. “See that’s the thing Derek, why work hard for something when I can just have it now pain free?” With that Chris swung his fist into Derek’s nose, breaking it and causing blood to gush out. “AHHHH------mffffffmmm” Derek had begun to scream when Chris shaved his hand over Derek’s mouth. Derek barely felt the pills drop into his mouth as he began to run out of air. His nose was bleeding so much he couldn’t breathe through it. He had no choice but to swallow if he wanted to live. Derek swallowed the pills as tears began rolling down the side of his cheeks. Knowing he had sealed his fate and that Chris would soon take everything back. Chris reached his hand up and wiped away Derek’s tears. “Don’t worry Derek, from here on out I promise it will be quick and painless.” Derek jerked his head away from Chris’s hand. “Well, if it’s going to be like that. I was going to let you keep some of your size, but I think I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll drain you till you’re hotter than Stacy.” On cue Derek felt his massive dick begin to pulse to life. He could feel each heartbeat throb through the entire length as it thickened and elongated, quickly arching its way up Chris’s back. “How the fuck am I hard?!?” Chris got a slight grin to his face, “Well, back before I started taking my father’s experimental drugs, I took a lot of steroids and I had no clue what I was doing. Let’s just say a heavy dose of testosterone with no p.c.t. left my balls and libido empty. So I got a prescription to Cialis. So you shouldn’t have a ‘hard’ time with getting an erection tonight.” Chris began laughing at his own joke as he reached behind him and began stroking the throbbing monster of a dick that Derrick possessed. Derek threw his head back and began moaning as Chris continued stroking his dick. “I think I want my dick in that hat tight ass of yours so you can feel what it’s like to be dominated by a real man. I want you to feel me inside you as I grow to mythical proportions.” As Chris was saying this he reached for the bottle on the night stand, clearly labeled Cialis. “You’ve had your medicine, time for mine.” Chris popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed. Chris wiggled himself backwards along Derek’s dick, until he was almost past Derek’s knees when his dick finally sprang up and smacked into his thick pecs. Pre-cum flew everywhere when his dick smacked his chest, giving his chest a nice shiny sheen. Chris reached forward, leaning against Derek’s dick as he massaged the pre-cum into Derek’s pecs making them look like they had just been oiled. Chris slid his hands over to Derek’s massive orb like biceps and began groping them. As he did, Derek couldn’t help himself but give them a flex to see how big they were. He could only lift his arm so far until his restraints brought him back to reality. Chris let out a slight moan feeling the bicep push his hand apart. Although Chris hadn’t moved, Derek could feel Chris’s bulbous Dick head pushing against his ass cheeks. Derek’s dick throbbed at the thought of being penetrated by the high school quarterback. A huge glob of pre-cum oozed out of his dick head and into the valley of his pecs. Without missing a beat, Chris leaned in and sucked up all the pre from the cleft between Derek’s pecs. The sound of slurping coming from Chris made Derek mad at the thought that he almost wanted Chris to grow larger. Derek knew that was the Cialis talking, it was making him so horny it was hard to think straight. Derek didn’t have to wait much longer as he could feel Chris’s body weight slightly increasing on top of his own. He felt his own back slowly slide across the sheets, but only a little. What really made Derek pay notice was that Chris’s dick was sliding past his ass cheeks and pushing at his hole. Derek could feel pre leaking out of Chris’s dick, making his hole slick and ready to be entered. Derek moaned again as he could feel his heartbeat pulse through the length of his entire dick which was almost a ridiculous two feet in length. Chris wrapped his mouth over the head of Derek’s dick this time as he was rewarded with another glob of pre-cum. Again Derek could feel Chris’s weight increase just slightly and he felt his own slightly diminish, but the cherry on top was the fact that Chris’s dick pulsed at his ass hole as it pushed right in with a pop as the head of his dick began to pulse inside his ass. That was all it took for Derek, his breathing quickened as the ropes holding his torso creaked and whined as he forced his hips up off the bed. Chris felt it right as Derek’s cock head throbbed in his mouth Chris could feel Derek’s balls pull up tight in his scrotum as he began to unleash his torrent of cream into the back of Chris’s throat. Chris could feel Derek shrinking smaller as each pulse of cum shot down his throat, filling him with a warm energy that couldn’t be explained. Derek’s dick got easier to fit in his mouth as it shrank down to a more manageable 18 inches. Before he forgot, Chris grabbed another pill and quickly shoved it into Derek’s mouth. Derek, having accepted his fate, swallowed, not wanting to anger the growing beast on top of him. Derek instantly began to moan into Chris’s hand as he could feel Chris’s rigid cock unreel further inside his ass, pushing his ass hole wider as Chris’s already impressive eight incher grew into a thick veiny foot long schlong. “Fuck Yeah! This feels incredible!” Chris in a state of euphoric bliss, began bouncing his pecs as they filled with more muscle. Pushing his already swollen nipples further down his burgeoning meat pillows. Chris reached up and tweaked his nipples and Derek watched as Chris’s arms throbbed thicker and thicker, veins exploding all over the orb of muscle that was beginning to amass on his upper arm. Chris pulled down on his nipples as he felt his ass and legs inflate with more muscle. With his rock hard ass, Chris pushed his hips forward, driving his throbbing dick further into Derek’s ass. As if on cue Derek began moaning as Chris continued to push his dick in to Derek’s hungry hole. “Yeah! You like that you little bitch?” Chris asked with an evil smirk on his face. Even though Derek still had some size on Chris, it wouldn’t take long to even the playing field. Wanting to speed up the process, Chris buried his thick cock to the hilt and simultaneously dove onto Derek’s still hard and throbbing dick. “HOLY FUCK! FUCK ME!” Derek couldn’t hold back as he felt his second orgasm rush up the length of his dick. Chris, already there to collect his sweet bounty began guzzling down cum. Surprised at how much shot out this time, Chris pulled off to catch his breath, allowing cum to shoot up onto Derek’s pecs. Chris swallowed Derek’s cock head back into his mouth to catch the rest of the precious seed that Derek’s dick had to offer. Derek felt his back slide against the sheets as he grew smaller. His once pro IFBB body was slowly getting smaller until finally it stopped. He was now close to the size of an amateur bodybuilder. Derek’s once magnificent arms were now about 18 inches. Still impressive by any standard, but not as big as he liked. What pulled Derek out of his inventory of his own body was the fact that he could now see over his diminished pecs, and what he saw before him was amazing. Before Derek was a true Adonis, a god if you will. Chris had the body of a Greek god as he continued to swell larger. Chris was getting off on his own body as it glistened with sweat. His abs undulated as an 8th row began to form. The sweat ran down from his bulging traps over his boulder like pecs and then dripped off his nipple onto his turgid cock that was inflating inside Derek’s ass even more. Derek moaned as he watched Chris pull an arm up and flex. Derek watched as the peak went from 21 inches to 22 inches. “FUCK YEAH! LOOK AT THEM GROWING EVEN LARGER!!!” It was too much for Chris as he began shooting his load into Derek’s ass, filling it with his seed. Chris flexed his whole upper body in a most muscular. Derek could feel himself on the edge of another orgasm already. Sensing this, Chris grabbed another black pill and brought it up to Derek’s mouth. “Is that really necessary Chris? You’re already massive. Please let me keep what I have left!” Derek pleaded as tears began to build up in his eyes. Chris pushed the pill against Derek’s lips, but he refused to open. ***CRACK*** Chris back handed Derek across the face “MOTHER FUCKER DID I ASK YOU TO TAKE IT? I’M TELLING YOU TO TAKE IT, NOW OPEN YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!!!” Chris’s neck bulged with veins as a new hunger took hold of him. Derek could see it in Chris’s eyes and now feared for his life. With tears streaming down his cheeks again, Derek opened his mouth and accepted the pill from Chris. Chris instantly began sucking Derek’s dick again. Harder and faster than ever before. Derek had to think of something and fast before it was too late. Derek began wiggling his arms and realized that his right arms restraint had become loose, but it wasn’t loose enough to get his arm free. With Derek’s dick in his mouth, Chris began fucking Derek’s ass hard and fast. Derek’s eye’s rolled back into his head as he felt his orgasm near, but did his best to hold it off so he could think up a plan of escape. Chris began getting impatient, so he reached his hand down and wrapped it around Derek’s scrotum. Testicles still the size of baseballs, Chris began to squeeze hard. Derek instantly began shooting his pent up load in a combination of pain and pleasure. Chris unknowingly began squeezing harder as Derek’s sperm caused a spike in his strength. Derek in serious pain now, reached his hand down and grabbed hold of Chris’s wrist to try and get him to let go. As Derek’s hand tugged on Chris’s wrist, they both realized at the same time that Derek’s hand was free. Chris, still sucking on Derek’s dick tried to grab for his free hand as Derek reached for the lamp on the bed side table. Derek grasped the lamp and swung it at Chris’s head causing it to shatter and blind Chris. “FUCKING FUCK!” Chris pulled off of Derek’s dick as he yelled in pain as the shattered glass momentarily blinded him. Chris reached his hands up to shield his eyes, when he did Derek reached up and punched Chris in the scrotum. Chris fell back in pain as one hand covered his eyes and the other grabbed onto his balls. As Chris fell back his gargantuan dick popped out of Derek’s ass along with all of the jizz that had built up inside from his ejaculations. As the last of his cum dribbled from his dick, Derek reached over and untied his other arm. Then he slid under the ropes, once tight around his torso, now clung loosely to him. Derek looked over at Chris who had fallen to the floor in his painful agony, as he hurriedly untied his ankles form the restraints. Derek was mesmerized as he watched Chris stand back up to his full height. He towered over the bed and the truly scary thing was, he was still growing from his last feeding. Derek was in awe as Chris’s dick throbbed even larger in front of him. Still unable to see, Chris began groping around trying to feel for the bed. Chris’s hand finally found the edge of the bed as his growth came to a halt. He had grown far beyond what Derek once possessed. Standing in front of Derek was a man that could win any professional bodybuilding show, no one could come close. His arms were at least 25 inches now as thick veins snaked their way down to forearms that were the size of Derek’s newly diminished arms. Chris’s pecs were so grotesquely massive that his nipples had all but disappeared from view beneath their hard veiny mass. His legs were a whole other story as they were bigger around than his waist. They had to be close to 40 inches. They were ripped and striated and they bulged as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he got closer to the bed. Not realizing how close Chris really was, Derek felt something brush against his leg. Derek was quickly jerked across the bed by an unbelievable force. “I’m GONNA KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!” Chris grabbed Derek by the throat and pinned him to the bed. Derek could feel Chris’s grip grow tighter around his neck as his vision began to blur. Derek began flailing and as he did his hand caught something. It was a bottle of pills. He sent them flying off the bed and into the wall across the room. Chris turned towards the sound still unable to see, Derek took this opportunity as the last of his consciousness slowly faded, he swung his leg up with all his might and connected his shin right into Chris’s right testicle. Derek heard a pop sound as Chris fell down to his knees using both hands to grasp his damaged testicle. Derek gasped from breath, consciousness quickly returning as air filled his lungs again. He realized it hurt to breath, but Derek had no time to think about that at the moment. Right now Derek knew he needed to get the hell out of there. Derek jumped off the bed and ran for the door, but before he left he remembered the bottle of pills that hit the wall. Derek turned and quickly surveyed the room finding the open bottle with pills scattered across the carpet. Derek rushed to the bottle and began dropping pills back into the bottle. Satisfied he had got them all, Derek stood up just as Chris lunged in his direction. Derek dodged Chris as he ran head first into the wall, knocking him out cold. Derek sprinted out the door as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt he had found on the desk as he exited the room. Derek shoved the bottle of pills in his pocket and took off down the stairs and out the door as he heard an unfamiliar manly voice from somewhere in the house. “Christopher honey is that you?”