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SO yeah, I dunno what really inspired this, I've seen a lot in the news about transitioning peoples and I guess I just kinda had this idea, and it REALLY wanted to come out. This is chapter one of a memoir from Rebecca, better known as Bronson. (Female to Male Transformation so it's not for everyone!) Ever since I was 5 I'd known I was different. It's not something that's easy to talk about, I learned that quickly, you can only insist for so long that daddy's lil girl is more of a momma's boy before the "That's sweet honeys" turn into "She'll grow out of it" into finally "Please try to be normal". That's a good one...normal. What IS normal? what's normal for me is that little petite Rebecca is really a Bronson. I know they say how hard it is to pick a name for a child, and I think my parents took months deliberating between Jessica and Rebecca but my real name, it came to me when I was 8 or 9 and in just a heartbeat. Watching Magnificent Seven, and Death Wish and a dozen other movies with my father, I couldn't get enough of them! The action, the machismo, the dripping testosterone! It was such a relief from the constant Rainbow Brights and Carebears my mom would subject me to. My dad would sit me down beside him, and I'd eagerly stare as he told me stories, how he MET Charles Bronson once, and even though the man was under 5'10 he TOWERED like a giant over his costars! That man was my idol, I wanted to BE him, the "man's Man" my dad would call him, the greatest action hero of all time! I told my dad I made the mistake of telling him how badly I wanted to BE Bronson when I grew up...the movies stopped then. A bad influence he said. I just..that hurt a lot...I still would sneak away with the movies at night and watch them, mimicking his walk, his attitude everything. It's all I ever wanted! BUT I learned to hide it, all that. I mean in my ROOM i was me. Safe to paint mascara over my chin and cheeks, to wear my father's stolen clothes, and workout with weights I'd bought with months of babysitting money, but OUTSIDE I was Becky, petite, chatty and whimsy like Audrey Hepburn down to the short pixie cut hair (That was my little rebellion, not that it went ENTIRELY unnoticed by my dad) And those weights, god I remember them fondly, little 10lb free weights that I could barely lift with both hands, but over time I slowly built my muscle up, but always careful, anytime I'd see even a hint of a bicep I'd feel the most intense elation, picturing the broad rippling muscle swelling and flexing across my manly frame, but then I'd immediately chicken out and stop it altogether for a few months, I couldn't risk my parents, especially my dad, finding out I'd been working out. I didn't need another lecture on what I needed to do to be "beautiful". Then came the internet. GOD that was amazing, a relief I'd never known, I was not a freak, there were hundreds like me, and even better there..there are things little Rebecca could take to become the manly Bronson he knew he was inside! Testosterone and hormone supplements the works! I was 18 when I first sat in front of the cheap online Chinese pharmacy, staring at the poorly translated "TESTOSTERONE FOR BIG GROWTHS MEN FROM WOMEN" and I bought it. I bought the bottle, my mouth dry, my heart pounding. I felt so many things, a tinge of guilt for doing this without telling anyone, a bit of regret at spending $200, some worry that I'd just wasted all that on some stupid placebo but most of all I felt HAPPY. This was the first step I'd made towards being the real me and I wanted it SO badly! I'd almost forgotten about it, when I got a package 5 months later! My mother calling "Becky sweetheart! there's something for you! Is it a college thing?" she asked, and I figured it was another acceptance letter, but as I got downstairs I saw the Chinese lettering on the package and RUSHED away with it, without so much as a seconds notice or part of an explanation! Slamming my door, ignoring the world I tore away the wrapper just to find a clear pill bottle with a broken childproof top, and a SINGLE red pill that looked every bit the part of a Tylenol. I fell to the floor, folding up into myself tears streaking my makeup as I stood up I could see the mess I'd made of myself, I popped the pill in spite and fell to the bed, practically clawing the makeup from my face. Laying there, ignoring my parent's calls for dinner it just..it wasn't FAIR! I felt so angry so sad and then angrier for feeling sad! My emotions rushing all over the place I was getting so hot all over as I'd literally cried myself out of tears. "It's not FAIR I just..I wanted..I wanted to be ME! to be BRONSON" I let out a sigh feeling my heart skipping a beat, fluttering in my chest as I instantly felt like throwing up, a punch hitting me right from the base of my groin to my stomach! I thought for certain I'd poisoned myself on that waste of money pill and sat up to get help only to fall back against the bedding my body was on FIRE! I couldn't move a single muscle! Then I felt something..god something I'd never felt before but have enjoyed a LOT since then, it was a burning right at the base of my groin! my hands unable to move, pinned to the bed by this constant non stop spasm I barely managed to lift my head up from the pillow and stared at..at SOMETHING... That pressure was pulsing through my clit as I watched it throbbing, and tenting up my skirt, I could see in the mirror across from my bed that my cotton panties were stretching! My legs and arms and chest were starting to itch all over, furiously so as the growing pressure got even worse! And not only that there was something growing against the inside of my thighs but I just couldn't see it clearly with the skirt but that wasn't going to be obscuring my view for long! My hips snapped back as I felt the painful cracking and snapping of them, slowly growing out of place and re-positioning themselves, my legs lurching longer across the bed as I could make out the thin coat of hair that had just grown over them, despite shaving just last night! I let out a moan as my chest ached so deeply, the bones of my ribs popping out of place, the sound both intense and sickening, but I couldn't stop! and it was only making that growing pressure resonate throughout my body! I watched my breasts slowly flatten the perky mounds growing firmer by the second, swelling outwards I could see the fatty orbs slowly melt into these striated peaks! the itching spreading across them as the hairs slowly grew thicker and right up the base of my neck! The sound of ripping clothing was drowning out my slight whimpers, my head hit the back wall as my tiny double bed was quickly getting FAR too small for me! my little cute summer's dress stretched so thin and tight across my body my arms were forced upwards by growing lats, the v of my torso getting more pronounced with each moment. Another loud SNAP and my panties were slingshot right across the room and I stared at it...for the first time.. my cock. It was..god it was incredible. My mind just blank, staring at it as I slowly gained control of my legs, one last growth spurt as my abs heaved thick enough to burst out of that tiny cotton dress I was left naked on the bed, staring in awe. I reached with my arms just to watch them throb through their last bout of growth, the smooth delicate hands growing thicker and more powerful as the veins coursed up and down my hairy muscled forearms, my bulging biceps swelling bigger than softballs I felt..god I felt like ME for the first time in my life! I stood up, my legs wobbling, my thick muscled thighs squeezing together but also against my balls which..god that was surreal I let out a yelp as they did so, and almost jumped from how DEEP my voice sounded! I stared at my face, my jaw finally set in place again after having popped out of socket getting forced flatter and squarer. I looked..I looked beautiful. THIS was beautiful! THIS was me! Walking took some getting used to, I was so distracted, watching my cock bob and sway, all god..9 inches maybe? I hefted my balls, feeling no evidence of my former self I tried on my dad's shirt, feeling it so TIGHT across my body I had to be as big as he was I thought, measuring myself close to 6ft tall, my muscle looking like one of those guys in the gym who would offer to help me lift some of those heavy weights I was eyeing..god I felt so INCREDIBLE, my cock, and it was MY COCK throbbing up against my abs as I fell back onto my bed with a THUD Slowly stroking myself I repeated over and over, feeling so perfectly content and at peace, hearing my deep voice resonate through my tiny room "I am BRONSON. I am BRONSON I. AM. BRONSON." I grunted, the feeling of my first male orgasm my first REAL orgasm was incredible and lasted for MINUTES I must have sprayed all over the room! watching myself hose the wall behind me down in what looked like CUPS of cum! spraying all over my thick pecs, I worked it into the hairy vein covered skin just loving the feel of my BODY! I came so hard and so long I passed out, my cock still spurting as everything seemed to fade to black! My dad woke me up with a kiss on the head, and I sat up fast enough to almost break his nose! "Dad! What..wait.." I stuttered, confused, staring at his big shirt draped over my thin little frame, he just smiled at me, oblivious to my confusion or dismay. "Sorry sweetheart, I'd have woken you up but you were out pretty hard! There was a pretty big mess in here too, we think a pipe broke in the ceiling or something? your roof was just dripping something fierce!" he smiled as I just tried not to cry... Don't worry though, that was just the first of MANY times to cum...and things get a WHOLE lot BIGGER before they're through...

Mysterious Comet A Dark, Dirty story about a young man who gets possessed by a sinister alien race, controlling him, the alien sets out to spread its presence across the newly discovered planet. Who can stop him? Author Note: I wrote this story after watching some really crummy horror movies. It's a little schlocky and maybe even cliche. I did take the TFs in a slightly different direction. There's possession, sex, M/F TFs, nerd to jock, jock to more jock, etc. I've never done anything in the Continuous Stories section, but I think if this is something people might be into, their/your stories would be really cool contributions. Again, some of the premises here are probably standard and maybe even boring, and others might be bordering on the really weird. But if readers enjoy this, I'd love to see others stories too. I have part I and part II here. Feel free to post or PM questions but clearly since this is in the Continuous section...make things up as you go along. Oh, a quick shout out to alwaysmyway, his stories kinda inspired this. Pt I – The Arrival: Steve & Heather's Transformation My hands were shaking as I drove the car up to the top of Sunnyside Park, a bluff that overlooked our town. I spent better part of senior year spreading my seed casually around to any girl who wanted it, using my good looks, athletic build and charm to woo them out with me. Fellow football jocks had made a pack to try to get to any girl who was on the cheerleading team, then the girls' basketball team, then the swimmers. I was nervous when we first set out to do it in the fall, now it was a fun challenge to finish before graduation. We'd go after any girl who we knew wanted us and we knew were into it. Only Tyler tried to coax the more shy girls out of their shells. Brad and I, and most of the other guys, tried playing on a simpler, even field. Still, didn't make me any less nervous. I looked at Heather as she bit her lower lip, smiling, she was getting started pulling her shirt off, slowly, running her hands down over her bra as she continued peering into my sight. “Damn,” I whispered, “you know what you're doing...” “More than you think,” Heather answered as she shoved me against the door of the car, unbuttoning my shirt, and quickly throwing it off. She yanked my t-shirt over my head and smiled as she looked at my chest, pumped from my years of playing hard football, lifting weights and pushing my body to its athletic extent. “Just what I always wanted,” she said as she continued to dig into me. I knew she was referring to the hair on my body. Most of the team shaved, she must have been with a few guys before me. I pushed her bra away and felt her breasts with my palms. They were large and well developed, and she knew how to use them on me. My dick started to get an aching, cramp pain within my jeans, and I moved her hands down toward my belt. She backed away from my mouth and smiled at me, something sinister in her eyes. “You're not gonna get away with me that easily, beefy boy,” she said, a wink in her eye. Shoving me against the door of the car, Heather unbuckled her skirt and kicked off her flip flops. “Summer heat is wearing me out inside this little car, no space for my big man. Let's step out,” she said, opening the door and tumbling us out and onto the soft grass. Only in her tight pink panties, Heather stood and walked a few steps away from me, I tried to regain my balance and lift myself out, kicking my own sandals off. “I want to play a little game,” Heather said, turning back to me, flaunting her body in the warm, night air. “I'll make myself available right here, looking this quaint little town, we can fuck like we own every bit of it, but I want you to strip for me, take off every bit of your clothing and show me just how strong and athletic you are.” My eyes opened wide with excitement. “A challenge?!” I asked, a smile growing on my face. I had never been with a girl this aggressive before. “You jocks always take pride in your bare bodies, in your ability to go unabashedly nude and show off. Steve, take pride in the bodies you have, show me that it's worth it for me, that you deserve me, take pride in it, and prove it to me.” Heather wasn't requesting, it was an order. I was going to take her up on it. My barefeet touching the damp, warm ground, I unbuckled my belt and unbottoned my jeans, standing with pride for Heather to take me in. “This is what you want?” I ask her, teasing. “Can you handle what you're going to get...” Heather smiled, “I always get what I want.” Tucking my thumbs underneath my briefs, I decided getting naked in one motion would be the better way to impress her. My dick had died down after the makeout and I figured she might respect me seeing it in its semi-flaccid state. I pushed my jeans and briefs quickly down, bending my knees and concealing my package for a moment longer. “Ohh, I like an aggressive man,” Heather said, increasing my confidence, and my drive. Stepping out of my jeans, I slowly stood to reveal myself in its natural form. I smile at Heather, stepping forward to show her my whole self in all its glory. I looked down to see my work, my body, strong, athletic, attractive, hairy. I could tell Heather was impressed, “what do you want me to do to prove myself to you?” I asked. But before she could answer a loud buzz came from overhead, a sharp spark of light lit right above us and it roared into the nearby tree coverage to the west. “CRASH!”, the wave of air pushing Heather and I back a few steps. “Jesus,” I said, “what was that?” Heather was equally spooked, grabbing my arm, almost forgetting the game we were playing. She rubbed it, giving her confidence again, maybe she liked the body, maybe I did provide something more than mere fun for her. But her attention dwindled from me. “Uhh, Steve, go check it out,” she said. “I don't know,” I answered, “I'm sure it's nothing, can't we just...” “Do it Steve!” she said, shoving my back toward the fallen object which lit a flame on the bushes nearby. I walked toward the bushes, my mind still on the game we were playing. How I could I forget? I was still buck naked. I could tell her eyes were glancing on my ass muscles. I turned around to smile, Heather giving me a small smile back, but still worried. Looking down, I saw a small, black orb sitting in the bush, smoke billowing off of it. “it looks like a rock of some sort,” I said, “an...orb or something.” As I looked into it, I couldn't help but notice the rock-like substance starting to bubble, starting to, liquify almost. “Something's happening. Fucking weird...” I said as I started backing away, “Heather, can you grab my clothes, I think we should probably get out of here.” Heather moved ahead of me but as the liquid started to bubble out of the rock, I couldn't help but stare. Something was beckoning me to watch, to see what would happen. A stream of liquid rose and snaked its way toward me, and before I could turn back to the car to leave, it quickly accelerated and attached onto my feet. “Woah!” I shouted, the oily substance felt smooth, and warm, it was nice, comforting in an odd way. I could tell it was sentient somehow. It was, almost, feeling me out, seeing what kind of person I was; and as it crawled over my feet I could feel it getting more aggressive, burrowing underneath my nails, under the pores of my skin, and as it did it seemed to give me an extra boost of strength, of confidence. I immediately liked it. It felt as if it were designed for me. As if, by being naked, I made myself the perfect thing for it to bond with. “Steve? STEVE!” Heather shouted, but I couldn't listen to her, all I could do was feel the pleasure of the orb integrating into my body. I turned my head back to Heather, having trouble moving my feet with the substance covering them. “Heather check this out!” I shouted, “woah...it feels fuckin great!” What was I saying? The substance racing through me could not have truly been something that I wanted?...or could it? I started to chuckle as I felt the oil crawl under my skin, break off and like mini snakes, it traveled under my skin, racing underneath my hairy shins and up toward my body. As it did I started to feel myself change. To grow. It was so strange, so foreign and yet I couldn't help but revel in the pleasure it was giving me. As the liquid orb buried itself into my feet and legs I felt it swim and burrow itself into every part of my body, integrating into every possible organ, every muscle that it could. I opened my mouth, I could feel myself changing, bringing on some other kind of ability, and I was loving it. I felt its energies stimulate me. As it did, something truly amazing started happening all at once: My muscles started to grow before my eyes, taking on new strength and new forms with each passing second. Every muscle in my super-evolving body surged in pleasure as they absorbed the energy of the oil like a thousand nuclear reactors, surging in size to the proportions I had only dreamed of. I felt as if I was the strongest man alive. I hadn't noticed that the oil had advanced up my body as far as it had. The oil wrapped itself over my exploding legs and quads, pushing itself into my ass and through my pecker. As it did, they both started to lock in and grow, hair pushing with aggression to match the definition of the purest masculinity. I doubled over as I felt my abs contort themselves into deep-grooved slabs of stone, dense, thick and strong. My pecs continued pushing outward as hair wrapped over them. “Steve! Oh god Steve what's happening to you?!” Heather screamed, though I could barely hear her, I couldn't pay attention to anything other than my miraculous transformation. The oil from the orb swam into and rocked my mind, I could think of nothing else but the incredible, foreign power increasing its energy over me. I was becoming thankful for what I was given, for who I was becoming. I smiled and soon after a purpose formed in my head, an objective, a way to pay back the powers that were gifting me with this colossal body. An image of a race, of a species entered into my consciousness, an alien of some sort. Yes! And they chose me! Me, of all people, to integrate their powers and assimilate into humans. No, it was more, I was to take over the human race! To spread my seed and influence, allowing my race to rule again on a new planet. “Yes...” I shouted, “YESS!” I could feel the powers of the race borrow into my body, it was the most immaculate thing I had ever experienced. My vision blurred briefly as my eyes metamorphosed not only into the perfect seeing instruments, but into the perfect weapons as well. Every superhuman muscle in my ultra body became reservoirs for the powers they now possessed, using that power to transform into whole new kinds of super-strong tissue, evolving me even further. I learned I could transform into anything I wanted, I could influence people in ways not known before, I was gaining some sort of extraterrestrial power that was before now was completely unknown to any human. I wasn't a human, I was becoming something else entirely. And I loved it. I experienced one final, spectacular surge of full-body orgasmic pleasure as my new, hyperstimulated nervous system realigned itself throughout my body, becoming conduits for the powers I was now armed with: Immortality, possession, the ability to control other people, and of course, my true purpose, to spread my seed and my race, to take over the planet with my new powers. I wanted nothing more. I was no longer human, I was the Orb, the Orb was me, and I intended to use it to fulfill my true purpose. My naked body soaked in the last of my oily essence as I turned back toward Heather, terrified with what she had just seen. I smiled at her but couldn't look for long without first admiring my newly evolved body. “Ahh, what a perfect specimen,” I said, “young, male, athletic, it's the perfect vessel with which to push my influence and spread my kind. And a male...yes...I think my kind will enjoy being male.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” Heather whispered, not intending me to hear it, but I could hear perfectly now, I could read her thoughts too. “This body is perfect,” I shouted to her, “I integrated perfectly, the melding of Human genes with our essence...should prove to be the perfect host with which to finally build our army...” I continued examining my new body, my newly evolved body. Hair stretched itself over my hulking quads, my swagging dick wider than I could have ever imagined possible, my testicles holding my new power-ridden seed, bouncing between my thighs...begging for release. Smiling at Heather, I took a step forward. “What?” I asked, smiling. “This is what you wanted, your man naked, strong, to be before you for you to...admire...” My dick started growing as I took more steps toward her, Heather backing toward the car. “What are you talking about, Steve?” She asked. Thinking of the name I remembered my past self, a former consciousness that no longer existed of his own. He was altered, he became me, a hybrid of a human with my evolved, transformative, possessive race. After years of searching for a species to take over it seemed we had finally found one worth working to obtain. “I have become more than human, something you will get to soon experience, get to revel in as I have, as I am now...” I mysteriously said as I took a few more steps toward her. My dick was jumping to attention, aching with release, excited to expel its new seed. “Don't you want to feel what I've become?” I asked, pushing Heather against the car as I tested human lust, digging my mouth into her's.” “You aren't Steve at all,” Heather whispered, “you just have his...ummm....memories,” she said as she fell under the spell of my lust. “Oh...wow,” she said, feeling the power of my lust. Reaching down into her panties, I ordered them to dissolve having them fall off before I turned my attention to her slit, Heather moaning in pleasure as I touched it. I could feel it wet and aching for something to fill it. The human was clearly into me, wanted me, the body was aching for my seed. I dug my tongue back into her again, feeling her lust exude completely from her body. She finally spoke again, “take me, Steve, take me...you...I want it, I want it!” I pushed my dick into her body, the warmth and wet home beckoning me, begging me to pump, to deposit. The human slipped her legs over my ass and massaged them. She pulled me closer and dug into my mouth further. I pulsed, and pushed, every bit of the female's body begging for my release. It didn't take long for my testicles to churn, my body to push its energies toward its orgasmic purpose; the feeling of 10,000 orgasms racing from every muscle of my newly formed body into my testicles, my entire being built for this moment. “Oh fuck...” I said as I crested, my ass tightening, my leg muscles spasming, my dick rocking with the power of a volcanic explosion into Heather, continuing to push harder and harder into her. “OH!” she shouted, voice immediately becoming deeper, “OH I can feel it YES! MOOOREE!” she commanded as I continued pumping, ounces of my seed rushing into her. I let go of her lips and looked into her. Our minds met. She was becoming one of us. She was changing. My seed was working. I looked down to see her breasts flattening, pulling against her chest as her nipples shrunk while a strange, liquifying substance washed across her. Heather shut her eyes, “oh yeah...” she said, her deeper voice sounding more masculine. I looked down to her abs as they started contorting, rotating, forming deep grooves similar to my own. As they expanded her mid section expanded with her, legs staying tightly wrapped across my body as they began to shake, first slimming down, looking younger, before beefing out to monstrous sizes, hair starting to grow on them. “She is becoming one of us!” I said, almost surprised to see my duty taking effect so quickly. Soon I felt immense pressure on my cock, slipping it out I noticed her genitals reforming themselves, her slit closing as hair started growing on it, dark pubic hair growing up toward her belly button. Her flat chest started bulking out as her pecs formed a tight groove, pushing monstrous sizes out, snaking its sinew out across her tightly wound arms and forearms, becoming more masculine, gripping me tighter as her strength increased. Her eyes stayed, a smile growing wider and wider as Heather lapped up every orgasmic moment of her transformation, just as I had moments before. Brown hair started forming under her pits, brushing itself out across her arms and toward her hands, bulking up and reshaping into a new, masculine build. I couldn't help but be impressed. What I did was working! She was becoming one of us, taking my deposit and adapting into a male human form, and she seemed to be loving it. Muscles continued to expand across her body, clumps of her long, blonde hair falling out and curling into a wispy, surfer like, hair-do. As it did her face re-contorted, , flattening, becoming wider, and more masculine as a shadow graced across her face, dark blonde hair sprouting to masculine measure; her neck thickening as her throat grew to show her deeper vocal chords. Heather, or my kin that Heather was becoming, seemed to be so lost in her transformation that she didn't even notice I was still tightly wound her wrapped, expanding body. As the muscle in her quads snaked up, locked in and met her waist, a deep adonis V grew over her, all of her muscles pointing toward the new tool that her body was incubating. I could see her midsection pushing out new lines of flesh, ,a new and evolved sex organ growing to massive and mature size; as it grew out of her waist it grew with such force that the size of the dick and balls were mature even before they appeared. They dropped fast and pushed hard against my own evolved package. Pushed against each other, they were like twins, perfectly formed and suited exactly for the same task. I couldn't help but be in awe. This was my creation, this new creature was mine, and it was perfect. Heather dropped its legs and pushed me back as they continued expanding, the creature's new dick continuing to grow and wag, the body's ass reshaping into a boxy, hard bubble, one that exuded pure masculine force. Heather bent at the knees to stretch the new muscular ass and thighs. “YESSS!” he shouted, “YES I can feel it, I'm one with the Orb, one with you!” The creature crackled with the same immortal powers that graced me only moments before, and stared at me in all its new-found glory. “Ohh...this is perfect!” the creature shouted, “Mmm, it feels so good to be back! And in this perfect state, this perfect specimen of a species...that of a human.” My creation looked up at me. “Brother...it is good to see you again, to be here.” The creature again stretched itself, every muscle relishing in its existence. “You, Steve, the human name...what shall I be called? For it's because of you that I'm back. And does it feel good.” “Zack,” I said, the first name coming to my mind. My brother nodded as he continued examining his body. “Yes, the second one. Zack. I like it.” Zack rotated his head as he thought. “This orb couldn't have landed in a better place. A small town, possessing a young couple, you and I: we now started the perfect group to spread ourselves, to breed. Human high schoolers, seniors just about to graduate, it's the perfect place to start our campaign, to start our rite to take over the galaxy once more.” Zack and I smiled at each other. Yes it was. – Pt II – Chris Grows Zack and I looked back toward Steve's car. We knew we wanted to assimilate more humans, to transform them to our kind. We could have driven the car back into town, or simply teleported ourselves. Unlike the humans we merged with, we didn't need to eat or sleep, though we knew we had to figure out ways to assimilate into this town one way or another. “We don't want people being confused about the car, let's take it back to Steve's house,” Zack said. “We can turn invisible and wait the night out, then we can morph ourselves back to Steve and Heather and continue living their lives at school.” “Yes,” I agreed, “tomorrow the football team is going to lift together, in the locker room we can both resume our natural selves and corner the team, we can transform 20 of them at one time.” “You're getting me excited already,” Zack responded, his dick growing in anticipation. “You already got to have the pleasure of it, I need to use my tool soon.” As if a wish were coming true, Zack and I heard a car pull up across the small lot at the top of the park. “Quick!” I said as we turned ourselves invisible. The car thankfully didn't see us. As the human came within closer approximation, I could feel his thoughts. “Another high school senior,” I told Zack, “your lucky day it seems.” Zack smiled back at me. It was a man, Chris, a loner who Steve and Heather knew from school. He was not one of the in-crowd, he was a science geek and a lover of astronomy, one who wanted to meet alien species even, and dreamed of leaving earth. “This guy is going to love this!” I said to Zack. “Let's see what he'll do...we'll find the right time to introduce ourselves,” Zack replied. Chris stepped out of the car, not noticing Steve's clothes from his strip earlier, and walked to his trunk to pull out his telescope. As he was setting it up, Zack signaled for me to walk around to introduce myself to him first. As I did, he heard the crunching gravel and looked around, finally noticing Steve's clothes on the ground. “What the fuck?” he asked, walking over and picking up the jeans and underwear, going through the pocket and finding Steve's wallet. “Perfect time,” I told Zack, who stayed invisible. “Hey Chris,” I said, stepping toward him. He dropped Steve's wallet and took a step back, shocked to see someone there, then again to see a naked man. “Woah!” he shrieked, “Uhh...Steve? Is that you? What are you doing here?” “No worries, man,” I said back, “just doing a little naked mile workout, you know...” Chris blushed, “yeah, I guess so,” he said, looking down. “You're kinda making me uncomfortable, your muscles are huge too, have you been working out lately?” He couldn't help but take a glimpse or two at my dick, wagging as I walked around him, I could sense the jealousy, and the admiration. “Yeah man!” I said flexing, inviting him to look at me. I took a few steps closer, Chris backing away. “No need to worry, man, you can be like this too, if you want...” Chris looked up at me again, getting more nervous, but also with a hint of excitement, “really? What are you talking about, Steve?” “It's easy,” I answered, “it might not be fun at first, but you'll appreciate it as soon as we're done...” “We?” Chris was clearly confused, he started backing toward his car, “what do you mean? Uhh, maybe I should just go...” I could tell he wanted the body like mine but was too confused and worried to say any more. I disappeared from his vision and walked up to his back side before whispering in his ear, “We're the species that you've dreamed about, Chris, become one of us...” He jumped in fear and turned back toward me. “What the fuck, man?!” he said. I touched his tshirt, causing it to burn off as it shredded around his skinny, pale frame. “Jesus, who are you?” “I told you,” I said, walking toward him again. “Give Zack and I a chance, we'll make you one of us, you'll love it...” Zack and I knew it was a point of no return, it was time for Chris to become us. I teleported around Chris and at his back I grabbed him in a bear hug, lifting his small and light body slightly into the air. He started kicking in fear but said surprisingly little. “Wait!...Steve, just...I don't know what you want but just wait...” Zack phased back into vision and walked toward us, Chris freezing in fear. With every step Zack's dick swayed longer and slower before it started growing at attention, higher and thicker before extending to full attention, eagerly awaiting command from its captain. At a mere few inches from Zack I gently lowered Chris toward the ground, keeping his feet from touching. Chris was in complete fear, staring at the muscular monster before him. “don't worry, dude,” Zack said, “when we're done, you'll be one of us, you'll be, perfect.” Zack grabbed his tool and slowly, deliberately, started pumping, admiring his body as he looked between himself and his soon-to-be brother. Chris couldn't help but stare, “oh my god,” he said, “quit it, don't do it man!” he whispered, worried, but not moving his attention away from the dick an inch away from his abdomen. “Just a second...” Zack said between breaths. As he continued pumping his breathing increased, his muscles began twitching, the alien was building his body up to its purpose, every organ aligning itself for its first ritual. “Mmmm, I can feel it...Ohhhh SHIT!!” He shouted. As his cock tightened, it locked in and his balls flung themselves into his huge waist. A thick black load of cum sprayed out and hit Chris square in the abdomen. Then another, and another. Multiple loads as the virility and thickness gained. Zack lost his balance and pushed himself onto Chris, his dick landing on the oil that quickly awoke and started swimming over Chris's body. Chris could only wimper. “Just you wait...” Zack said between breaths, grabbing his shoulder before I let our host go, soon to become our newest brother. Chris started running once again toward his car but he was disoriented, dizzy, he tried scraping off the swimming seed over his body but he couldn't get it off. He ran toward his car once again but froze as the oil gained direction and immediately dove under his pants and boxers and toward his ass crack and pecker. Zack and I both closed our eyes, we could feel our brother connecting with his new body, soon to assimilate into Chris. “ARGH!” Chris shouted as he bent his back forward. “Woah...what the fuck is...happening to me!” Chris's jeans, shoes, socks and underwear ripped in one full motion, leaving the human completely naked. He stood back up to look at himself in horror. Zack's seed had completely collected over the human's midsection, forming a tight bound over his body like a pair of small, tight, liquid briefs. Chris could tell the oil was positioning itself to intrude into his body but he also knew there was little he could do about it. Perhaps, he reasoned, it was actually good for him. Chris's ass quaked as the seed found an orifice to climb into, I could see it pull itself into his ass and have his cock drink it in. As it did it gained length and girth. Chris shut his eyes as he paused for a moment to take it in. “Umm...” he said quickly, perhaps he was going to enjoy this. “Woah...” he said again, looking down as his cock grew, integrating with the seed. Zack and I could feel him assimilating to us, becoming us, we smiled as our creation continued to grow over this body. “Oh yeah!” he shouted, more enthusiastic this time, “I can feel my muscles growing! Haha, it feels fucking great, oh yes I love the body, the confidence, the assurance!” Chris moved and stretched his body as his bones cracked and muscles thickened. Bending his shoulder muscles back to their relaxed position, I saw the first bouts of muscle grow over his shoulder blades, protruding out, then wrapping down and into his biceps. They were becoming refined, strong, and assured. Looking down at his lower arms Chris noticed the veins protrude and additional muscle warp itself around his forearms. Grabbing his abs, Chris chuckled as they begin to expand. His abs contorted and slimmed liquifying into almost a puddle of water, then began to grow outward: even, defined muscles forming an eight pack. They hardened as the creases grew deep grooves into his body. As the muscle growth hit his waistline, new muscles begin to form on his quads and under the last bit of black seed, creating tight contours pushing against the oil. As the last of it entered into his body, Chris grabbed his butt enthusiastically massaging its growth. His rear formed hard muscle on itself, growing outward, strong. As the side ass muscles flexed and locked in place, rounding to become a tight bubble butt, hair wrapped around and onto his legs, creating a new thick layer of black hair over him. His thighs snapped tall and grew, becoming refined and strong as he gained height from his short 5'6” to an athletic 6'3”. His quads peced outward and began matching the growth of his ass. They became like footballs as rock hard muscle grew into them. Soon, the hair spread down to his legs, then up and around his man package. His pubes began to grow over his waistline, wrapping itself around his belly button and up, in a thin line toward his chest. There, his black hair began growing, slightly but evenly, over his new man-pecs and chest. His arm hair grew and darkened and his arm pits tuffed additional hair underneath. Looking down and checking out his growing body, Chris, or our brother who was becoming Chris, began to chuckle at the pleasure. Chris could feel the athletic endurance rushing over him. Admiring himself as he continued to grow, Chris looked down to his package as it begin to fill out with our seed, his cock and balls becoming large and clearly accentuated between his hulking legs, dropping with aggression. As our brother assimilated into Chris's personality, our immortal powers rushed over him, “YESS!” the creature shouted with excitement! “Our powers!!” Even the original Chris couldn't help but enjoy what was happening to him. All he wanted was to evolve beyond being a human and we were allowing it to happen. He was a pure piece of athletic masculinity while also being an all-powerful extraterrestrial, able to woo and pleasure any human—man or woman—who he wanted. He was becoming one of us and he was the happiest he ever imagined. As the power transformation completed, our new kin turned to us with a wide smile. “FUCK YEAH!” he said. “Oh...brothers! Thank you for giving me this, I couldn't be happier, this is who I am, what a perfect fucking body...” Chris clearly had more aggression than I did, in personality and body, and even his muscles were a little firmer than mine or Zack's. But he was one of us, and happy to join our party, and our cause. “How does it feel, Chris?” Zack asked. Chris kneeled to him. “Feels like being a fucking god, a fucking ruler. Thank you.” he restood and ordered his body to levitate before flying up. “Yes!” he said laughing. Chris and I joined in as we flew higher and higher into the sky, our naked bodies relishing in the night air as it became thinner and thinner. We laughed as we raced around the stratosphere, high above the town. I paused as the other guys caught up with me. “Tomorrow we can continue our agenda,” I said. “Zack and I can infiltrate the football locker room. Chris, do you think you can spread ourselves with the chess and astronomy teams?” “Absolutely!” Chris said, ecstatic. “there's only about 5 per group, but we need to get the nerds assimilated as quickly as the jocks. With all of us on the same side it'll be tough for any one group to get suspicious. I'll meet with them both...and use this new tool to show them how amazing this actually is...” patting his dick, Chris smiled. “Tomorrow is a Friday,” Zack said, “Cindy, Heather's friend, is hosting a party for the football players and cheerleaders, we know it'll be a fuck fest. We can start transforming more women tomorrow night. Fuck, this is going to be fun...” We laugh as we fly back toward town, I use my power to phase Steve's car back to his house. We camp in the clouds tonight. Tomorrow, we continue our mission, and our fun.

Links to previous Scotty stories: Scotty Scotty 2.0 “Looks like you got enough food there for ten line backers Balotelli!” I quickly became aware of Mike Rogers standing next to me. He reached over and solidly slapped my back by way of friendly greeting, one linebacker to another. I didn’t really feel the impact of his great thumping hit on my wide lats and I suspected by the expression that passed briefly across his cheerful face that it might actually have hurt his hand a little. Pained or not, Rogers reached around me and grabbed a handful of fries from the big pile I had on my lunch tray, shoving them into his wide open mouth with a shit eating grin. Well I should say off one of my trays. I was feeling hungrier than usual today and so I was balancing a couple heavily laden plastic trays as I made my way through the lunch line to the cashier. Mike was the second biggest defensive tackle on the team after me, and until very recently the biggest. But even he didn’t have enough strength to really make me feel it. “Yeah,” said another voice conversationally butting in, “I think coach is still pissed he lost his star running back to the defensive line this year.” That new voice was from Casey Wilton. He was a damn good quarterback with a fine arm. Most folks would consider him a solid specimen of manhood, but next to me he was tiny. I shrugged my shoulders. They were three times as wide as Wilton’s. “What can I do? I like being big. And I’ve found it’s more fun to take down the other team’s offense.” “Ain’t that the truth Hulk boy.” Casey and Mike had skipped through the line and moved in front of me to the verbal annoyance of several other people in the line. After all what were your teammates for if not to skip ahead of the angry lunch crowd waiting in line? Casey continued undeterred by the complaints behind us. “You’re big enough to be a whole defensive line all by yourself.” “That tackle you made last Friday!” whistled Rogers. “You took out three of those big fuckers on the Emory offense like they was nothing. And each of those bastards was my size!” “As easy as that,” I confirmed. “If coach thinks I can be more effective as a wall, then I’m happy to oblige. Besides Rogers, you’re looking a little skinny these days.” “You and Dick Wank sure as hell hulked out this summer.” “I wouldn’t let him hear you say that Rogers. You know how touchy he is.” Rogers massaged his jaw thoughtfully and I knew he’d discovered the hard way that Rich had literally outgrown any form of bullying. The last guy that had made a derogatory comment had ended up hurting for a few days. “You and him have gotten to be tight Balotelli.” This was from Casey. I think some of my former teammates were a little jealous of my new bromance with Rich. It hadn’t been a day back at school and I’d grown so much that the coaches moved me to defense. No one really remarked on my size, or Rich’s, since a lot of people hadn’t seen much of either of us on the first day of school. But I knew folks were muttering about it. And one look at the two of us together and it was clear we shared a love of getting huge, although that was about all we had in common. However I genuinely liked the kid despite his hang-ups. Once you got past his guard of course. And it was after all mostly my fault he’d gotten picked on by the jocks since eighth grade. No one’s perfect right? In any case I felt the need to defend him to my teammates. “He’s my bro and lifting partner. He’s all right, even if he doesn’t like football much. Leave him alone.” Casey had reached the end of the line and paid for his food. Rogers was at the till as well. “Don’t worry big guy. A friend of yours is a friend of ours.” Casey slapped my ass as he said it. “Ouch! You got iron shoved down your drawers? I might start calling you iron cheeks from now on.” “Not if you want to live to play at next Friday’s game,” I warned him. I was serious about that. Some simple ragging was okay, but you couldn’t let it get out of hand. And I liked Casey, but he was far too into the grab-ass for my taste. Some things you needed to cut off before they get started. Casey just laughed it off. The boys headed out to the football tables as I set down my trays to pay. “Will we see you over at the table bro?” Casey hollered to me as I paid. “Naw man. I’m gonna keep the Dweeb company.” I was the only one big enough these days to call Rich a dweeb, and I liked the joke. “All right then. See ya around big guy!” Rogers hadn’t been joking about my food earlier however. I did have a power of food I had to pay for and it always took some extra time to ring it all up. Becky Smith was standing behind me in line. She wore a look of furious impatience on her face and I knew why. Becky was a student council representative, but she didn’t have a lot of time for football players. And traditionally she didn’t have a lot of time for me in particular. “Ah, sorry Becky.” I took a chance. “I shouldn’t have let the boys cut.” “No you shouldn’t have. Plus you eat like a gorilla. You've got enough food there to cure world hunger.” “Well I’m a growing boy. I need my calories.” “I heard you and those other two jerks talking. So what if you’re big? Playing football is like watching Neanderthals knock each other out. Who cares?” “I thought you girls liked a big, strong man?” I looked her in the eye as I said it. I wasn’t sure about Becky. She was always hostile to me even before my recent growth spurt, but it seemed to me the lady doth protest too much if you know what I mean. The cashier had by now taken my money, but I hovered for a second while Becky paid for her lunch. I pressed closer to her, just to let her get some of my scent. “Maybe you’d like to inspect it some time? Just to see for yourself.” She looked over at me. “Inspect what?” “My body of course. I think you might like getting up close and personal with a Neanderthal.” Her cheeks colored a bit and I knew I had hit pay dirt. Her face flashed a look of fury and she began to march off. “Not if you were the last man at this school,” I heard her say as she turned sharply, heading in the opposite direction from me. “Just think about it,” I called to her as she walked away. “The offer’s open any time.” I let out a low whistle of appreciation, but loud enough for her to hear. Of course I’d never fucked Becky Smith, but at that moment I would have liked to. Very much indeed. * * * BURP! “That hit the fucking spot!” Rich glared across the table at me with a disgusted look on his face. “What?” I asked. “You’re disgusting!” “Dweeb, you gotta learn to lighten up.” Rich snorted, but didn’t comment. He’d gotten used to my nickname for him by now and knew I meant it in a good natured way. “Guys burp and fart and call each other names. You gotta get with the program.” I leaned back in my chair and patted my full stomach, the bricks of my abs were temporarily distended as I started digesting all that food. I’d put away everything on the trays I had from my confrontation with Becky and gone up for more besides. Rich and I had a big workout planned for tonight and I knew that food would not go to waste. I could already feel it fueling my muscles. “What do you think of Becky Smith?” I asked Rich. He took a drink of soda from his can. “She’s hot.” “Damn right. I wanna fuck her.” Rich suddenly squeezed his can of soda and the liquid quickly poured out around his fist as he casually crushed the metal. I watched and thought at first it was because of what I said, but I saw he wasn’t looking at me. Just then I heard a sweet voice coming from right beside me. “Hi, Rich.” “Uhhh…hi….hello…Ali.” Rich smiled weakly. The dude really had a charming smile. I turned my head so that I could get a look at Ali Dachowski standing there. She smiled back at Rich. The girl was fine. Slamming body. But she had eyes only for Rich. It was actually kinda cute. When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, she gave him a final smile and started to walk away. She turned back just for second. “See you in class.” “Ummm…okay…see…you…Ali.” Rich stumbled over every word. The boy was so nervous. It was kinda sweet. “Hi Ali. Bye Ali,” I called out after her. My three hundred pounds might not have been there for all she cared. Ali just ignored me completely. Once she was out of earshot I threw one of my empty milk containers at Rich’s vacant, awestruck face. It hit him square between the eyes and shook him out of his reverie. “What was that for?” “Dude, have you asked her out yet?” Rich’s face turned five shades of scarlet. “No,” he muttered. “Why not?” “I dunno.” “Man are you still nervous?” “Maybe.” I leaned back again and regarded him thoughtfully. Rich may have gained one hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle, but it was going to take a little longer to build up his self-esteem. Of course, you can’t rush these sorts of things. “It’s high time we found you some company of the female persuasion. Ali is practically begging you for it man. Believe me!” “You think?” “Bro, I know. Trust me. If you don’t ask her out, I’m gonna.” I smirked at him. “Or some other dude. You can’t keep a fine piece of ass like that waiting. Playing hard to get is only cute for so long.” Rich looked cross at those words. I’d learned very quickly in the gym that Rich was competitive. He might be quiet, but when you challenged him his blood got up. “I know!” “Then man up and stop being such a pussy! Ask her out tonight before we hit the gym.” As I spoke I noticed Becky Smith scowling at me from across the cafeteria. I winked at her. Her scowl softened for just a moment and she winked back. Oh, yeah baby. I was so in there. * * * The first few weeks of the school year had been strange to say the least. One minute I’d been tossing Rich’s nerdy little ass across the front lawn of the high school and then next thing I knew I’d found myself a balls to the wall lifting partner. A dude who was into it as much as me. It was all thanks to those sweet pills. However, it didn’t come without some unwanted consequences. Matt had been crushed. I hadn’t told him the whole story, but he was not happy to have been left out. We hadn’t really hung out much at all since that first day. And coach had been both stupefied and pissed as hell. He’d insisted that I get drug tested, which I’d expected to fail given how much I’d been juicing over the summer. Surprisingly though the tests showed absolutely no traces of any unnatural substances. You could have knocked me over with a feather! But all the coaching staff argued it over and couldn’t see any reason for me not to play. The doctors said it was just a freak growth spurt over the summer. So they figured they’d move my muscle on the team to bolster our flagging defensive line. If you wanted to know the truth I kinda loved it. Slamming into those big dudes on the other side and flattening them so easily just felt awesome. And since I’d taken this new position our team hadn’t lost a game. Mostly because I wasn’t about to let any of the other team’s players get past me on the field. My parents took it okay actually. Much better than coach did anyway. My dad wasn’t exactly stupid. He was a blue collar dude and he’d known I’d been juicing over the summer. Hell he’d recommended I do it. He’d done it in his own day. And he still did it too. My uncle and roid supplier was also on gear in fact. True the parents were shocked at how fast I’d put on one hundred pounds in a day, but they’d rationalized it. They didn’t have much of a choice. They didn’t want trouble. Plus my doctor said I was fit as a horse after all. Couldn’t find anything wrong. Rich’s dad was another matter entirely: “Rich I can’t believe you stole from me!” Two weeks later and I could still see him in my mind as he had paced back and forth nervously. He told us, “Do you know how dangerous the DX-75 is? It’s never been tested on humans. I could lose my license!” “Dude, your dad’s a little excitable don’t you think?” I had whispered to Rich. He’d elbowed me in the ribs. “And you! Scott Balotelli isn’t it? What happens if you get sick, huh? What if I get sued by your parents?” After that conversation I knew where Rich got a lot of his mannerisms from. Dr Wenk was a pretty slim dude, a lot like Rich had been. Although now Rich towered over his father. You could still see the family resemblance though in his face, but that was about where it ended. “Don’t worry sir!” I’d told him in as soothing a voice as I could muster. “We’re both okay. And the Dw…Rich here is in the best shape of his life.” Dr Wenk had paused and looked at us. “And I mean, c’mon sir. You can’t tell me you don’t think it looks good on us.” I had flexed my large biceps and felt my shirtsleeve tear. Fuck, I knew my parents wouldn’t be happy about me ruining another shirt. However I knew it would look impressive and I’d had a plan to start charging for cam shows. I figured that would bring in some money. I was gonna need it. Dr Wenk’s junk had got a little hard and I think he liked muscle just fine. “We’ll be your test subjects,” I’d emphasized. “I mean we’ve already taken the pills so damage is done. And what’s the FDA gonna do? You can monitor us and shit. Make sure we’re not turning into mutants!” He’d rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Okay. But you’re both gonna submit to weekly bloodwork and check ups." “Deal!” I knew how to read people. I definitely had that going for me. And you just had to know which buttons to press. I figured any dude who was mixing up muscle cocktails in his lab must be seriously jonesing for muscle. Although he still hadn’t given us any more pills. But he’d taken his share of blood for testing in the meantime. That just left the bitches at issue. I’d read my whole life that girls dig a bit of muscle, but not too much. I’d been a big boy. Six foot and two hundred pounds. I used to get looks all the time. I was now six inches taller and three hundred pounds according to the scales. Looking in the mirror I was swole as fuck. But over the last few weeks I’d been packing away some serious calories and Rich and I had been hitting the gym hard. I was still looking mighty, mighty jacked. Pecs hairy and finally thicker than Jane Thompson’s tits. I’d crushed a remote control in my cleavage just to see if I could. Plus I was still juicing, although I’d upped my dosage by a factor of four. I couldn’t get enough juice. My muscles were soaking it up. And for those fitness models out there, I was still rocking the aesthetics. My muscles had gotten bigger and denser. Although I was big I was in proportion and whether or not girls are supposed to like men with extra-large muscles, I must have been giving off some kind of pheromones or something because I’d been getting every bit as much attention as I’d ever had before. Even more so. You can’t argue with success. You just gotta ride the wave until it ends. And pray that it never does. * * * “OH FUCK!” I lifted her off my dick a little and let her slide back down my shaft. It’s a good thing Becky Smith was a natural squirter because we needed the extra lube. Bitch had a tight hole. My bull cock had been stretching her right the way open and she would probably regret this fuck tomorrow when she was having trouble walking. She sure as shit wasn’t regretting it now though! “You’re so big!” She breathed, amazed. I heaved her again with one of my giant hands on each of her cheeks. Lifting her up enough to fuck her good and proper. Becky’s hands were all over my pecs and she’d buried her face in there about ten minutes ago when I’d first picked her up. “Damn…girl…I…gotta…cum. Gotta…get…back…to…study hall.” I was grunting good style with each thrust. She was good, but I didn’t have all day. “Just wait. WAIT! I’m gonna cum again!” He voice went up three octaves and I fucked her a bit harder. My dick was so thick it had to be hitting every part of her pussy. And she’d cum four or five times already. I'd lost count. It was less than a minute more of high pitched shrieking and I felt her splash more cum all down my balls! She held on for dear life and I roared out as I dumped a load into the condom inside her. Cumming used to feel good, but now it felt amazing. The sensation was so strong I could feel my balls explode and a jolt of pure pleasure run through every fiber of my being until I literally seized up and erupted into the condom. Fucking had been like that every time since I took the pills. And so was beating my meat. I’d been needing to play blue ball baseball with my stick morning, noon, and night these days. The balls were pumping out some serious loads and all this extra test was making Scotty a very horny boy. I had to empty them a lot. Long gone was the day when my nads were shrunk from the gear. If anything they were swelling bigger and bigger. Fucking just Jane Thompson wasn’t gonna cut it anymore. Becky Smith on the other hand was a step in the right direction. As my orgasm wound down and I came back to reality, she was hanging onto my pec shelf for dear life. Her big thick titties hung just underneath my slabs of beef and I could feel them pressed there. Her face was buried deeply in the valley between my pecs. Another shudder out of her and I think I might just have given her one last orgasm. Score! I lifted her up off my dick and brought her mouth to mine. I loved tongue fucking a bitch. Especially after I was just inside them. “Bitches be all up into my muscles!” I told her, only half joking as I set her back down on the floor. “Fuck you!” she said, buttoning her blouse back up again. “Naw girl, that’s what I just did to you.” I slapped her gently on her ass. “I’d do it again if I had the time.” “What makes you think I’d let you fuck me again?” “Cause I know you like this dick.” I pulled off my condom. It was full near to bursting. And I do mean full! “Sides you were riding me like I was a bull and your juices are still dripping off these big balls.” I ran my finger down my sac and brought it up to my lips for a taste. She stared, but it was with desire. I smiled and tossed the condom, which was well stretched and full, making a three point score as it slammed into the trash can. It took a minute for my cock to soften enough to try and squeeze it back into my jeans. I pulled on my shirt. It was tight, but since it was 5XL I was praying it would continue to fit me today. I think that fuck had actually given me a pump. “You really are a fucking Neanderthal you know!” “But you like it anyway!” She smiled back at me just about ready to slide into her panties. “I do!” “Leave me your panties.” Becky gave me a look, but then tossed them over to me. I grinned and used them to wipe the juice off my balls before I pulled my jeans back up. When I knew she was watching I took a sniff of the fabric, now thoroughly coated in her smell and juices. “You’re disgusting.” “It’ll give me something to remember you by when I’m pounding this monster tonight.” “Well if your right hand gets lonely you can come over to mine tonight. My parents don’t get back until Sunday. And my brother will be too stoned to care.” “I just might give you a call then!” “Good!” * * * I swaggered back into the cafeteria. Matt was sitting, trying to make a passable effort to look like he was engrossed in his chemistry book. He was still giving me the cold shoulder. “Where have you been Balotelli? I thought you were just going to the restroom?” “Sorry Mr H. Those hamburgers at lunch today. I don’t know what the kitchen staff put in that meat, but I just had to get it back out again if you know what I mean.” There was laughter around the room and I plonked myself down across from Matt. “Bro!” I hissed at him leaning across the table. “Are you gonna fucking ignore me forever? You’re acting like a chick dude.” “You know why I’m mad dude.” “Listen,” I explained with my patient voice, “you know I couldn’t let you in on it. There wasn’t time. And besides you’re the one who had just got through saying you wanted to keep your physique slim for modelling! So put on your big boy pants and SUCK IT UP!” “Shut up Balotelli and study!” “Sorry Mr H!” I was staring Matty straight in the eye. I was tired of this bullshit. He finally gave in and broke a tentative smile. “So you got anymore of whatever it was that made you huge?” “Naw man.” He looked away with a dreamy look in his eyes. “Sides bro, thought you wanted to be a fitness model?” “Yeah, but c’mon.” He looked back at me. His eyes were hungry. “Look at you dude! That is awesome. You’re like Superman dude. I never seen so many muscles before!” “But let me work on it. I think I can maybe hook you up.” “’Kay.” That seemed to satisfy him. I wasn’t sure how Rich’s dad would go for it though. Plenty of time to discuss it later. “You know what else dude?” He looked up from his chem book. “I just fucked Becky Smith in the janitor's closet.” “Shut up! No you didn’t.” “Did.” “Did not.” I pulled her wet panties out of my back pocket and threw them down on the table. “Just smell them if you don’t believe me.” “Why do you happen to have ladies' underwear Balotelli?” Oh shit. I thought Mr H couldn’t see that far. He must of got new glasses. “Do you really want me to answer that Mr H?” I turned to look at the old geezer. He was peering down his spectacles at me, and I gratuitously bounced my pecs a few times. “No. And that’s another detention for you Balotelli. After school.” “Well she was worth it Mr H….” The whole room erupted again. It wasn’t like it was going to ruin my reputation or anything, was it? * * * “Okay Balotelli you can go now.” “Good I’m starving.” I got up and pushed away from the desk. I rose up higher and higher, and Mr H had to recline his head back to look me in the eye. I stretched my arms and felt the tight shirt I was wearing strain to stay on. At least above the waist where my guns, pecs, lats and shoulders were competing to see which seam would rip first. Mr H looked unimpressed. And that actually impressed me. “Get the hell out of here Balotelli. And take these with you.” Becky’s panties hung from the end of his pencil. “You sure Mr H? I’m happy to give them to you for being such a great teacher. After all I’m gonna be seeing the real thing tonight.” “Go!” I grabbed the panties with a wink and hit the door. Fuck. At least I’d finished my homework in detention. Now I needed to eat. Good thing the webcam was starting to bring in some cash because my mom was having trouble keeping the fridge stocked. I got home and made myself some food. There was half a leftover pan of lasagna. I cleaned that up, along with two steaks I’d bought with my own money from camming, a whole pan of rice, and plenty of cooked and raw veggies. Plus a lot of the pre-workout supplements that my uncle recommended. And my daily dose of gear. My parents were both out and I did most of my own cooking anyway. It actually made it pretty easy to come and go as I wanted. Especially since my older brother was living on his own with the girl he’d knocked up a couple years out of high school, and my younger brother was doing time at our local Juvenile Detention Center. Like I said, my family wasn’t exactly living the high life. My cell phone rang and I answered. “Dweeb!” I hollered at him after checking the number. “How’s it hanging?” “Just heading over to the gym in a bit. I’m at the library now.” I was still working on Rich, but I felt certain I’d teach him some friendly banter soon. “Guess who’s here?” he added. I could hear the excitement in his voice over the phone. “Wouldn’t be Ali, would it Dweeb?” I could hear the groan on the other end and knew I’d gotten it in one try. “Are you gonna ask her?” “Yeah!” “All right then tiger. Go on. I’ll see you at the gym in an hour!” “Okay” I was going to the gym all right, but first I was going to pay a little visit to Rich’s dad. He and I had some business to discuss. I grabbed my truck's keys and noticed a plate of cookies sitting on top of the microwave. Well couldn’t hurt to grab one or two for the road right? So I took the whole fucking plate. READ MORE ABOUT SCOTTY HERE: Scotty Takes Control

Beach Slumming by Gideon Kalve Jarvis A Commission for the Seigneur de M. http://www.furaffinity.net/user/lechevalier/ *** Disclaimer: This is a furry story featuring anthromorphic characters. Vic the rat is one of my most favorite characters, a gruff, roughed and heavily muscled rat who is - in my eyes - best depicted by the characters of Oscar Martinez (Solo). He seems to be a wanderer, as he appears in many settings, and has no sexual preferences except being dominant. I hope you will like him as I do, and you dont might fantasy characters. *** She should be happy, Margot realized. Her life was one that others would kill to obtain, and yet it was one that she had been almost handed on a silver platter, with a silver spoon for her mouth. A gorgeous husband, a fabulous body, and money on both sides of their marriage. More than enough for them to spend their lives in carefree idleness, savoring the sweetness that life has to offer. And yet, something was missing. Something raw and real that Margot knew she had never before experienced, and if things continued as they were, never would. The sleek-muscled, peach-furred feline rolled onto her stomach on the beach blanket, resting her chin on her folded arms, her eyes covered by large dark glasses, her head by a sun hat, her body more-or-less covered by a thong bikini. It wasn‟t much use for keeping sand out of the crease between her firm buns, but it certainly made the males gawk. Lounging there on the beach in the hot Florida sun, Margot felt an itch start to steadily grow between her legs, thinking of the males she‟d seduced in the past, wearing outfits similar to this one, or sometimes even more scandalous. She and Andre, her husband, were hardly closed in their relationship. Of course they felt it only polite to let each other know when they were going to bring in somebody else to satisfy one of their many wealthy whims, but so long as they each abode by that single rule, Andre and Margot were free to take lovers as they wished, of either sex. It served to keep the fire in their relationship, preserving the two felines from settling into a boredom that would surely have spelled the beginning of the end for their relationship. This day, however, Margot‟s eyes moved casually over the beach, sighing in disappointment. The men, the women, they were all beautiful, sculpted, their bodies like those of the gods of Olympus. All her life she and Andre had been among such people, the privileged ones, the ones that were beautiful because it was their right to be so, born of the best genes and the greatest fortune, their lives often planned out long before their births. What she wanted was a taste of reality, raw and harsh. It was as these dark, forbidden thoughts that were filling Margot‟s mind as her eyes fell on the Rat. She had half-risen from her repose at a sound from somewhere behind her, lowering her dark glasses from her bright blue eyes, giving her long blonde hair a toss to get stray locks from her eyes, before she spotted the source of the disturbance. At the gates to the walled-off beach, the exclusive resort of the Hotel Marseilles at Miami Beach, arguing loudly with the guard stationed there, was a creature from a world as far removed from Margot‟s as Heaven was from Hell. He was shorter than her husband by a good head and shoulders, shorter than her by a full head, but his shoulders and chest were a great deal broader. In truth, his entire body was massive in ways that Margot had never thought were possible, an obscene mass of muscle bulging beneath the tight red-and-white-striped shirt and blue jeans he was wearing. She could see everything about him, could imagine what she couldn‟t see. At the sight of this ugly creature, this devil among the angels, this slum-dwelling rodent with his prize-fighter‟s hardened face, Margot felt her mouth grow suddenly dry. Almost against her will, she rose from where she‟d been lying and walked towards the gate. “You talk to Trey,” the Rat said in a harsh, deep voice that spoke of his French birth, though the accent was almost lost in what must have been long years spent in the midst of a rich global polyglot. “He cleared me to go in there. Besides, what‟s it matter? I just want to use the gym. Not gonna bother any of these high rollers on the beach.” That voice! It was everything that her husband‟s was not: rough, uncouth, a savage snarl like broken glass on asphalt. Margot felt her legs wobble, growing weak, the wetness between her legs increasing exponentially. This beast was an untamed remnant of more primitive times, and his raw savagery spoke to her darkest, most primal desires, parts of her that she‟d never even known existed in her perfect life. She couldn‟t speak, could hardly even more closer, but couldn‟t stop herself from continuing her walk forward despite all of her common sense screaming out that it was a mistake. “Look, Vic, we don‟t allow anybody who‟s not staying at the hotel in here,” said the guard, shaking his head as he stood to bar entry, the German Shepherd‟s expression firm, dutiful. “Even if Mister Trey did vouch for you, he certainly didn‟t clear it with me. If I let you in here, I could get in a whole lot of trouble.” “That dirty so-and-so!” snapped the Rat, Margot‟s mind mentally editing out the word he actually used with automatic precision. “Look, it‟s just a workout, mister. Can‟t we figure out some sort of an arrangement…?” “It‟s all right, Mark,” said Margot before she could stop herself, stepping forward to lightly brush her fingers over the shoulder of the tall canine. “This man, Vic, is with me.” The way she‟d said his name, „Vic,‟ had been a gentle rolling of the word over her tongue, as though tasting its flavor. And if a name could have a flavor, this one would be bitter, the same sort of bitter from the lime and salt of a margarita, a bite with a kick that went straight to your head. Mark, the guard, tipped his hat to the sleek peach-furred feline with raised eyebrows. “Um, well,” he looked back to the obscenely-muscled black rat, and then back to Margot. “I guess that‟ll be all right, Miss Margot,” he said finally, shrugging. “But he‟ll need to stay with you, all right?” “Of course, Mark,” said Margot, offering her hand to the hugely-muscled rat, feeling tiny in comparison to him despite her greater height. “We‟ll be just fine.” Vic hesitated for a moment, looking first at Mark suspiciously, as though expecting a trap. Seeing no deception from the stalwart, trustworthy guard, those same suspicious eyes fell on Margot. His hard brown-eyed gaze met her flashing green eyes with confusion as he seemed to be trying to puzzle her out, to discern her true motives behind such sudden and unexpected charity. This wasn‟t a person who was used to being given free help. This was somebody who was used to being used. The thought just made Margot smile a little wider: he would be used, all right. Just not in any way he might be afraid of. “Yeah,” the Rat said finally, his huge hand dwarfing the cat‟s as he closed it around her fingers in a grip that Margot sensed instantly could have crushed her like eggshells, but stopped at a commanding firmness instead, enough so that she couldn‟t have pulled away if she‟d wanted to. “Just fine.” Margot let the rat lead the way. It was obvious he‟d been into the private gym of the Hotel Marseilles, that hallowed shrine of the gods of beauty, wealth and leisure, many times before. She never went into the free weights room, of course, but that was exactly where the massive beast of a rat went, gripping her hand tightly enough that she couldn‟t get away easily, but not so much that he hurt her. This was a male that knew his own strength, knew his own body with the deepest intimacy. As they entered through the frosted glass doors of the gym, Margot glanced around, smiling as she saw how deserted it was at that time. Andre had carefully timed their visit to Miami so that they would hit good weather while avoiding the majority of the tourist crowd. He was always so skilled in his planning, the same skills that would have made him a good hunter in a more primitive time, and made him such a captain of business now. Such a good businessman was the handsome leopard, unfortunately, that he often left his poor, needy wife alone for far too long a time. Margot had deep desires and strong passions, and if they were not so open in their relationship their marriage would surely have shattered under the strain of her desperate needs… “You look like you‟re more used to aerobics and swimming than weights,” said Vic, interrupting Margot‟s thoughts as he walked towards a rack of weights and pulled several of the more massive circles of hard steel from their places. “You just like watching guys get hot and sweaty?” “Mmm,” replied Margot, biting her littlest finger as she broke contact with the obscenely muscled rat, and then walking forward, stroking her soft fingers over his powerful arm as he locked his choice of weights into place on a nearby suspended barbell. “I much prefer to get my exercise in more exciting ways. But having a strong male get hot and sweaty for me,” she licked her lips with lusty eagerness, “yes, that pleases me quite a bit.” “Hope I can help you there,” the rat answered with a smirk, before he hefted the metal bar onto his shoulders, a long row of heavy metal cylinders on each side, so many that the bar began to bend a little under their weight. Margot watched, dry mouthed, as Vic lowered himself almost to the floor with his first squat, and then rose back up. As the muscular male slid into the zone of working out, his eyes starting to grow fiery, tense, seeing things outside of what was right before him, the peach-furred feline slowly circled Vic, her eyes playing over his body, savoring the look of every curve, every angle, every hard bump and lump and part of this gorgeous grotesquerie. On his sixth squat, Margot couldn‟t contain herself as the scent of musky male his her nostrils, tickling the more primitive parts of her brain, and she stepped up behind Vic, her hands stroking around his chest, teasing the hard nipples beneath his tightly-stretched shirt, feeling them hard in the light chill of the aid-conditioned weight room. “So hard,” she murmured in his ear as Vic slowly bent for his seventh squat, the weight wavering slightly as his focus began to slip. “Mmm, and here as well.” Those hands teased over the front of Vic‟s pants, and he gave a deep grunt of surprise and exertion combined as he used that moment of energy to thrust himself straight up, and racked the weights with a clang. “Blood is what makes muscles grow strong, Margot,” he said as he turned, one massive hand gripping the slim cat‟s waist, pulling her against him as he grinned up at her. “But you are making my blood flow into other places.” Margot‟s mouth was dry, her eyes wide, as Vic pressed forward, pulling her against his body like a gorilla hefting a baby. She couldn‟t help but whimper softly as her almost naked back was pressed against the cool surface of the wall-width mirror weight lifters used to check their form, her legs splayed on either side of the aggressive, brutish male‟s hips as he forced himself against her, the heavy weight of his manhood rubbing against the clearly-visible cameltoe at the front of her achingly moist bikini thong. His huge hands slid down, gripping her firm buns, and her toes and back arched with her moan of desperate, needy pleasure. Was she in heat? She couldn‟t tell any more, and didn‟t care. She was so horny right then she felt like she was about to burst into flames at any moment. No time for foreplay, no desire for it. Margot needed this male. Needed him now! Her hands slipped into the little purse that she‟d carried over one shoulder, her only article of clothing aside from her now-discarded hat and shades, and still worn swimsuit. A condom! She needed to get a condom on this male before… “Merde,” she exclaimed as her hands peeled open the front of Vic‟s tented trousers, the rat helping her with one hand, easily holding her up with the other. He wasn‟t that long, really – not nearly as long as her husband‟s perfect penis. But he was thick, his shaft as heavily-muscled, it seemed, as the rest of the brutish body. This was the sort of club Margot could imagine being used by cavemen to subdue their brides. It was an ugly thing, hideous, covered in veins, grotesquely swollen. It would surely split her in half. She had to have it! Her hands were trembling so badly, Margot could barely managed to roll the condom down Vic‟s shaft. It fit, of course: it was one of her husband‟s, his greater length allowing for their differences in thickness. Or so Margot hoped, at least; the condom was badly stretched, looking like an overstuffed sausage casing around that obscene piece of male flesh. As she guided the monstrous head to her quivering, soaked little cunny, knowing she was far too small and tight for such a penis, she watched, wide-eyed, as the filmy sheath of latex bulged a bit more as the rat grew even more aroused, his musky, masculine scent intoxicating her, overwhelming her reason, even with the risk of pregnancy should that flimsy condom of her husband‟s not be able to take the pressure. Vic didn‟t wait any more, didn‟t give Margot another chance for second thoughts. He rested one hand on the mirror to support himself, gripping her hip firmly with the other, supporting her entire weight as he stood there in the midst of the heavy metal all around them, before his hips lunged forward, his meaty length skewering the tight-pussied feline as she barely had time to brush her bikini bottoms aside. Otherwise he would surely have ripped right through the fabric in his eagerness! Yowling like a banshee, Margot‟s claws raked Vic‟s back, shredding his shirt and leaving thin lines of blood on the naked fur beneath. Her legs thrashed on either side of the rat‟s hips as he began to pound her without mercy, heavy thumps filling the room as he rutted her savagely, like the brutish animal he was. The snap of the condom bursting inside of her was a mere footnote to Margot‟s pleasures, the knowledge that she was now taking this male bareback in an adulterous tryst only adding additional spice to the sensations that had blasted all her sanity, the latex ring at its base serving to add additional stimulation as Vic made sure to give her his full shaft on each long thrust. She felt his balls, so swollen, so huge, slap against her well-groomed rumpfur with each heavy jerk of his hips, and reached around, stroking and fondling their deliciously full weight in her hands. They felt so bloated, probably stuffed to the brim with the sperm that would make her cheating on her husband complete. Sealed with half-breed kittens. “Slutty pussycat,” Vic growled in his deep, dominant voice, his thick neck‟s veins standing out as he hunched himself against the squirming peach-furred feline, now holding her with both hands to ensure that all her squirming and thrashing wouldn‟t make her pop off his cock by accident. “Say it,” he commanded her, burying himself to the hilt in her once more, looking into her pleasure-dazed eyes, the pupils dilated as though she were high on drugs instead of sex. “Admit you‟re a slut.” “I‟m a slut,” Margot got out, shuddering with mighty spasms of her entire body. How long had she been cumming? She‟d lost track. Perhaps ever since Vic had first speared her on that magnificent cock of his… “I‟m a filthy, dirty, needy slut, and I need your cock so badly, Vic! Please, fill me with your cum!” She would have gone on, but Vic‟s lips pressed against her own, muffling the high-pitched wail that escaped her throat as his hips started to truly pound away, moving like a piston, like the rattling of a machine gun. He was like a machine, and engine of raw, primal lust! Margot couldn‟t resist him, didn‟t even try, as he claimed her, ravished her, used her up like she was nothing but his personal whore. And she loved every moment. And when the cat in heat felt the gush of Vic‟s cum spurting straight up into her unprotected pussy, her own pleasures peaked out beyond her endurance, her eyes rolling back into her head as she blacked out. Vaguely, Margot was aware of Vic carrying her, asking her for her hotel cardkey, taking it from her purse. She felt him drying them both off with a huge towel from the locker room, doing little to take off his musky scent, which covered both of them like a blanket of unabashed animal lust. She squirmed, whimpering with need as he wedged a thick finger into the cameltoe on the front of her bikini bottoms (now back in place, though only just barely), grinding it against her aching clitoris as he carried her to an elevator, and rode it all the way up. The pleasure-dazed feline was just coming back to herself as Vic nudged the door to her huge suite open with his knee, stepping inside and dropping her on the bed. It was the feeling of bouncing on the bed after being dropped that finally revived Margot to full consciousness, and with her awakening came a full rush of realizations. She‟d cheated on her husband, violating the one rule for all such illicit, extramarital encounters that they‟d set for each other: to let the other partner of the marriage know first. She‟d allowed this male to cum inside of her without even a condom to block the full gush of his virile sperm. And what a male she‟d chosen! Her eyes watched as the burly rodent took a swig of the champagne bottle she and Andre hadn‟t finished the night before, drinking it straight from the bottle. He was an uncouth lout, a brute, a thing of the lowest, most degraded orders! And yet, as he wiped his muzzle and looked at her with eyes that looked straight into her darkest, most hidden yearnings, she knew that she didn‟t regret what she‟d done, not really. And when he peeled off his claw-tattered shirt, then shoved his jeans unceremoniously to the floor, kicking then aside before striding towards the bed, his penis jutting forward like the prow of a battleship, Margot knew that she would let him do it again, as many times as he wanted. She was his slut now, just like she‟d said, nothing but a plaything to this primal beast, an instrument for his pleasure. He grabbed her just as Margot had started to sit up on the edge of the bed, and easily tore off her bikini top, making Margot squeal in surprise at this sudden brutality. Her side-tied bikini bottoms soon followed, and she squirmed as he grabbed one of her ankles, hoisting her leg into the air before his hips lanced forward, cock spearing her once more. This time she didn‟t even bother with the illusion of a condom; her womb was his to claim as he pleased, just like all of her body. How many times had he taken her? How many times could this rat cum? It had been hours at least, maybe days for all that Margot could tell. She still had the taste of his cum and her own juices on her lips after he‟d taken her muzzle, moaning in deep, masculine pleasure as he‟d rutted her mouth, watching her beautiful eyes looking up at him in adoration. The feline goddess was the slave of the rodent demon, and she served him willingly. And now she was clutching one of the pillows to her chest, screaming in a rough mixture of agony and ecstasy, her bottom hiked into the air as Vic shafted her too-tight tailhole, the tiny pink rosette of her rear passage now so widely stretched, Margot was certain she‟d burst at any moment. It was obscene, perverse, twisted…magnificent! She yowled again, even louder this time, as Vic‟s bloated balls slapped her gushing quim with each passionate thrust, the orgasm that claimed her then making her feel dirty, used, and yet craving still more of it. This brute was an addiction, and Margot was utterly hooked. So powerful was her passion and pleasure, in fact, that she didn‟t notice her husband standing there in the doorway of the bathroom, his towel and jaw dropped to the floor as he watched his wife being claimed so wickedly by another man. Beauty and the beast. That was the first thought that had come into Andre‟s mind as he watched his wife greedily take as much of that bloated length of cum-slick ratcock into her delicate muzzle. He‟d been taking a shower to wash off the worst of the smell of his own tryst earlier in the day, being sure that Margot knew where he‟d be, and for how long like the dutiful husband that he tried to be, despite their odd and open relationship. Its openness, in truth, was mostly for her benefit, for barring this vacation, Andre found himself far from living the life of the idle rich. He was gone too often, and his wife was in need of far more attentions than he could provide under such circumstances. His only rule was that he be informed of any liaisons that his wife might have, and he extended her the same courtesy. She had bedded many of his business partners, and several of the more handsome servants around their house, while he in turn had been free to enjoy the company of secretaries and coworkers, some of them other males, just as Margot occasionally indulged herself in the company of other females. But always, up until this point, they had remained true to that one rule, and kept each other informed, if only by a quick text message or simple call left on an answering machine. Now, however, Margot was cheating on Andre for the very first time, in full view of him as he‟d stepped out of the bathroom. He‟d watched her head bobbing on the obscenely bloated length of male flesh this brutish male sported, fury at first clouding everything into a haze of red. This passed quickly, however, after a single step into the room, as the full, obscene size of the black-furred monstrosity pummeling his wife‟s chin with his weighty balls came over Andre, sending a bolt of chill fear that sank into his guts, knowing that this creature, this rat, could likely break him over one knee without pausing in his thrusting motions. But then he‟d controlled his breathing, the tall, handsome leopard never one to lose control of his emotions. His self-control was why he had succeeded so well in business, and he pushed himself away from the murder that had flashed in his mind with an effort of will. However Andre hadn‟t counted on the danger that arose as he pushed fury away: lust could so easily take its place. That is exactly what happened, as Andre continued to stand there, watching the seemingly oblivious pair, letting his towel fall, forgotten to the plush carpet as the well-endowed rat‟s cock began to gush in his wife‟s muzzle, while she desperately tried to gulp it all down, her cheeks flushed, whiskers fanned wide in the height of her desperate lust. Andre felt his shaft rising to full attention, taking an involuntary step forward as Margot gave a short squeal as the rat seized her like a rag doll around her shoulders, and easily tossed her onto the bed. He was shorter than her, Andre realized, and quite a bit shorter than himself, and yet the obscenely-sized male had to be at least twice of Andre‟s leanly-muscled, sleek mass. Then, as Andre saw the brutish male pause only long enough to pour a dollop of suntan lotion onto his wife‟s rump and his hard shaft before plowing into her, claiming her anally with more vigor and primal savagery than Andre had ever felt in his life, the tall leopard felt himself forgiving his wife. This primal creature in their room, buried to the hilt in his wife, was like Hephaestus to Aphrodite, the grotesque god of the forge bound by passion to the incomparable goddess of love. She couldn‟t have resisted the lure of opposites, of raw, primal realism, any more than those gods of yore. “How is he?” Andre asked, walking to the side of the bed to get a better view, his pink tongue flicking out as he wetted his lips, his eyes wide as he observed the savage tryst taking place. “Andre!” exclaimed Margot, starting to rise up, her eyes wide in panic…only to be roughly shoved back into place by one of the rat‟s huge hands. “Vic, please…it‟s my husband,” she pleaded with the rat. But Vic only ignored her, giving a grunt to acknowledge her words, before his hips started to speed up, his nostrils flaring as he started to climb the final peak of his orgasm. The sleek leopard stepped up onto the bed behind his thrashing wife, her shock at realizing she was being watched by the very person she was cuckolding having unloosed her ability to stave off her passions any longer, leaving her writhing and yowling on the bed like a feral feline from the alleys. She was a raw, passionate creature herself now, stripped of all her veils of seduction and romance and beauty. Now she was composed of sex at its most basic, elemental form. All else was beyond her comprehension. Kneeling behind Vic, Andre rested his chin on the rat‟s shoulder, his hands reaching around, stroking over the broad, bare chest of the brutish creature. He was solidly formed, and Andre couldn‟t help but wet his lips again as his fingertips closed on the rat‟s hard, masculine nipples, squeezing them firmly. This was the last straw, and Vic cried out, his voice deep, powerful like the bellow of a bull as he began to gush even more cum into Margot‟s quivering body, his seed spurting out as it overflowed her anal depths, dripping down her rump and legs as she slumped forward, whimpering softly at the lovely ache left behind in her rump and well-stretched cunny. It was impossible for him to help himself! As Vic pulled back, his heavy, meaty length popping free of Margot with a gush of his cum, Andre ran his tongue over the neck of the other male, tasting his full-bodied, musky essence. The leopard wanted this male, and wanted him now. “It‟s only fair,” Andre said softly in Vic‟s ear, seductively, the same tone he used on that fresh-faced gazelle intern the week before he‟d gone on vacation with his wife, his hard shaft grinding against the hip of the rat, its long, beautiful pink shaft stroking through the bristly fur there. “You‟ve had my wife, after all. Now I should have you.” “Fair enough,” Vic answered, turning as he grinned right in Andre‟s face. “Hope you enjoy what you get.” Andre was just starting to grin, the toothy, triumphant grin of a predator that is about to finish off his prey, before, suddenly, Vic‟s huge arm lifted, wrapping around Andre‟s upper body, pulling him forward. His face was squeezed up against the musclebound side of the rat, his senses reeling at the thick, heady male musk. “S-stop,” the sleek-furred leopard gasped out, his eyes growing heavy-lidded. “Please, this isn‟t…” “You want this,” said Vic in response, his other hand guiding Andre‟s for a short while, before, in a daze, Andre began to stroke the rat‟s body, exploring every ridge and curve with his fingertips. “That‟s right. Touch me everywhere. No shame in admiring what I‟ve got to show. I‟ve worked hard on it so people can enjoy it.” Margot was just starting to crawl forward then, gradually coming around. She rose up, her eyes fluttering open just as she saw her husband rasping his pink tongue along the underside of the rat‟s armpit, his expression one of pure, sultry bliss, before his attentions slowly moved down the rat‟s arm, to his bicep. The peach-furred feline couldn‟t resist a smile at this display of submission, and crept forward on all-fours towards the two, reaching out her delicate hands to wrap them around the hard shafts of the two males kneeling on the bed near her, beginning to stroke them at a steady pace. Andre‟s familiar, beautiful penis was a weight she knew well, and enjoyed still, even after the feeling of Vic‟s bludgeon inside of her. The fingers of the hand stroking Vic, however, couldn‟t reach all the way around that meaty shaft. It was just too thick! She leaned forward, and kissed Vic‟s pectoral, flicking her tongue over his hard male nipple, visible through his dark fur as a point of smooth blackness, making the rat jerk slightly in mounting pleasure. Andre‟s tongue moved to follow suit, and soon Vic was leaning back on the bed, his hips thrust out as he panted, his eyes wide as he watched the two felines stroke and lick and nibble their way down his body, until their lips finally met at the tip of his full, throbbing cock, kissing each other with his plum-shaped glans right between their lips. This tongues flicked out, French kissing with passionate, desperate need, all the while lashing and lathering his cock with their affection for each other. His heavy hands reached down, gripping the firm, tight bottoms of the two felines, his fingers teasing against wet female slit and tightly-clenched male anal ring, squeezing firmly as he bucked his hips, giving a short, barbaric cry as he came once more, with those eager mouths, husband and wife, servicing his needy shaft. Andre had certainly fellated several males in his time. He‟d also enjoyed anal sex on several occasions. But only as the one on top, never as the one receiving. But at this moment, even with a thick finger penetrating his clenching, virginal tailhole, he hardly noticed, he was so caught up in the moment of shared, shivering pleasure as Vic climaxed, his seed jetting over the faces of Margot and Andre like the spray of a fountain. Then, suddenly, Andre came to himself, and started to rise, giving his head a startled shake, trying to pull away from Vic‟s invading fingers, especially as he was trying to add a second! But the rat simply reached out, his cock still hard even after his recent orgasms, and grabbed both of Andre‟s wrists in one mighty hand as the sleek leopard tried to get away. “You‟ll love this too,” Vic said with a laugh, before he twisted Andre around, pinning him to the bed with his firm, spotty rump thrust into the air – an easy target! “No…” Andre almost whimpered, struggling feebly in the grip of the more powerful male, knowing already that it was a hopeless struggle. “Please, I‟ve never…ah!” Vic had then reached over with his other hand, and pressed Margot‟s head down, her muzzle up against Andre‟s tailhole. She knew what was wanted, her pink tongue extending, teasing over her husband‟s tailhole, making the handsome leopard squirm and moan in pleasure as he was rimmed with such expert skill. His wife had never done this for him before, and yet she did so with the experience of someone who had practiced the art. It was another facet of his wife that Andre had never before suspected, and one that he felt now that he would have to explore further when the opportunity presented itself. As Margot‟s tongue moved down, rasping over Andre‟s white-furred balls, the leopardman suddenly tensed up as he felt the huge, swollen tip of that massive ratcock squeezed firmly against his virgin pucker. Despite himself, despite knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop this, and that he was probably going to love it, whether he wanted to or not, Andre couldn‟t suppress that whimper of fear. The rat was so huge, Andre was almost certain that it would kill him, splitting him open as it went in. “Your wife took it, and she‟s half your size back there,” sneered Vic, nudging his hips forward, the pressure steadily increasing against Andre‟s snug tailhole, slowly spreading him open. “Take it like a man.” The leopard started to open his mouth, so say something – anything! – to the bad black rat, but all that came out was a kittenish mewl as, suddenly, his tailhole gave way in its resistance, and Vic‟s massive cockhead popped inside. This soon turned into a slow, long, drawn-out yowl that began almost as a whisper, and gradually increased in volume until it was a banshee‟s wail as Vic‟s cock bumped past Andre‟s prostate, making the leopard‟s whole world start to spin in raw, naked pleasure. He‟d just been deflowered by this vile beast, his last virginity robbed from him by this untamed lump of gutter trash…and it felt good. It felt wonderful! Andre‟s shaft was rock-hard, great drops of precum forming at the tip to drop onto the soft sheets beneath him, and he hadn‟t even touched it. “That‟s it, slut,” Vic growled in Andre‟s ear. “But don‟t worry: it‟s only gay if our balls tou-whups.” He chuckled deeply as his hips pressed against Andre‟s spotty rump, his massive testicles clapping gently against those of the other male. Vic began to move his hips then, starting slowly at first, but soon starting to build up his pace. With his hands pinned behind his back, Vic using them as a handle to aid in his thrusting, Andre was completely at the mercy of the brutish caveman-like rat that was now starting to nail his pristine backside with full gusto. Each hard thrust slapped against Andre‟s rump lustily, making the leopard‟s cock bounce to smack against his taut belly, and the leopard knew he couldn‟t last long like this. An eager female moan caught Andre‟s ears, and he turned his head as Vic was starting to thrust in short, jabbing motions, his tempo speeding up a lot. The leopard gasped as he saw his wife riding the arm of the rat, who held it outstretched, flexing his oversized bicep up right into Margot‟s trembling, gushing cunny like a living, hot-blooded Sybian. She was grinding against the rat‟s muscular arm, pinching her nipples, twisting them in her fingers as she neared yet another orgasm, or perhaps was already in the midst of one, Andre couldn‟t tell anymore. Too much. It was too much! Screaming like a jungle cat, Andre gave in at last to the raw, savage feeling of the rat‟s pounding hips, his thrusting cock, that sense of being overwhelmed, dominated. He couldn‟t resist it any more, couldn‟t fight off the pleasure. His head slumping to the bed, cheek grinding against the sheets, Andre started to come, his cock pulsing over and over again as Vic began to pound almost straight down into the leopard‟s orgasm-clenching tailhole, his tail wrapped around the rat‟s waist like the belt of a victorious gladiator. He was vaguely aware of his wife collapsing, face first, onto the bed by his side, only just barely able to see her sated, smiling face as she drifted off into a deeply pleasured slumber. He wasn‟t far behind her. * Margot and Andre came to themselves eventually, finding their naked bodies pressed together on the tangled sheets of the huge hotel bed. There was a sizable indentation between them, one that was still warm, indicating where a massive rodent‟s body had just been, dispelling the impression that what might have happened could just have been a dream. Both felines turned as they realized that the shower was running, and then looked back at each other, before they leaned closer together and kissed, their lips meeting with a passion that they had both almost forgotten they had for each other. When Vic stepped out of the bathroom a short time later, he was treated to the sight of two shapely feline rumps presented towards him, Andre and Margot both crouched on all-fours on the bed, presenting themselves, wiggling their long tails and lovely hineys with eager arousal. The sweet spice of horny cat hit the black rat‟s nose, making his whiskers vibrate, and he stepped forward eagerly, one massive hand gripping each of the pair of presented bottoms. “I think you two are gonna enjoy the rest of your vacation,” Vic chuckled.

The Labours of Hugh By Chip Masterson For the Seigneur de M. “My God, what is that beast?” My master and I stood in awe as we watched a lone man carry an entire butt of beer on his back and gently drop it in place. You could hear it slosh - a thousand pounds of beer carried as lightly as a side of beef! But what looked like a man – or the absolute ideal of what a man could be – had the face of boy no older than I. His downy face looked untouched by a razor, yet the width of his shoulders rivaled every champion assembled here, with helmet-sized shoulders and chest muscles as thick as a man’s torso. His bare arms dwarfed my skinny legs, yet his waist, carved into grooves like a cathedral column, was flatter than mine. His legs were covered with several boar-hides stitched together, and with calves pushing them up like a giant’s fists. As he turned to leave, I could see he was so thick from the front edge of his chest to the highest peaks on his back, that if I were to stand with my back against his arm, his torso breadth would my shoulder-width. That back! A dozen crevices zigzagged among the humped cobbles and stony plateaus, undulating and transforming like a landscape in a dream. I pinched myself – I was awake. My master, Sir Alain, a knight of the royal court, had come to Chateaulin bearing the king’s congratulations to Count Houel on the birth of his second son. The Count was throwing a birth festival before hosting the folkmoot, and my master had entered the lists. He was speaking with the Marshal of the castle, Sir Geoff. Sir Geoff looked amused by our gawking. “That’s Hugh, one of my boys,” Sir Geoff explained. “He’s about the age of your boy here.” “Impossible!” Sir Alain sputtered. “I’ve seen quarry workers who couldn’t rival him for size!” “I rescued him after his parents exposed him in the woods,” Sir Geoff continued. “I soon discovered why – when he became impatient for food or cleaning, he smashed his crib to splinters with his tiny newborn fists. They feared raising a prodigy, but in some way, I felt commanded to care for him – I guessed then it was the voice of God, but now….” He paused, and changed course. “He’s very lonely – the other boys avoid him. He spends a great deal of time hunting alone in the forest.” “The Count allows a boy in the chase?” Sir Alain sustained shock after shock, and he hadn’t even mounted his steed yet. “The Count and all the farmers are grateful,” Sir Geoff explained. “Since he began entering the forest, we haven’t seen or heard a single wolf – it’s been years now. He eats like several men, and I can hardly increase his rations in front of the other boys, so he supplements his hunger with boars and other things he catches with his hands. The husbandmen even give him a portion of meat at every slaughter in thanks for his protection. It’s almost pagan,” Geoff added with a wry smile. “What a remarkable warrior he would be,” Sir Alain marveled, “if only he had a better station, and not born for the front line. Robert Guiscard could take all of Italy and drive Emperor Constantine into the arms of the Turks. But perhaps the work of a beast is a more fitting utilization of his unique – talents – after all. Providence is never wrong.” Sir Geoff looked at him sideways with his arms crossed, and said nothing. Soon we were preparing for the joust, a new form where, instead of a mass charge around the field, two knights face each other one-on-one and try not to get killed. I was nervous as a girl, though only King Philip could beat my master (though “beat” might not be a completely accurate description of what actually happened). My master was called against Sir Geoff and the knights rode out, the sunlight dancing off their shiny mail hauberks. They leveled their lances, and at the signal, charged. Almost immediately a strap on Sir Geoff’s saddle broke and he wobbled – but through his narrow visor, my master must not have noticed. Geoff couldn’t brace himself for a thrust and my master glanced a blow off his shoulder that sent Geoff spinning through the air and landing with a hearty smack. Everyone rose in silent suspense. My master had already turned about, still not realizing what had happened, not seeing see Geoff’s boys rush to his aid, . He began his parade – but a spur only jostled him in his saddle – his horse neighed but didn’t move. He kicked again but his mount’s effort to spring only resulting in it being pulled back into the air. My master dropped onto his back in the mud. Stunned, Alain looked up and saw Hugh holding his horse by the tail, fury etched into his handsome young face. “A strap broke – it wasn’t far, you should have stopped!” Hugh yelled – a shocking breach of order. My master flailed but couldn’t rise. My fellow knaves hesitated at the sight of Hugh – only I had quickly sprinted over – so Hugh cheekily slid his arm underneath my masters and effortlessly pulled him to his feet. They were the same height – maybe Hugh was my age, but he was easily a foot taller. “Apologize at once!” Hugh demanded, pressing his chest forward and making my master step awkwardly back. The audience gasped again at these unprecedented offenses, the Count himself shocked speechless. Instinctively raising his shield against Hugh’s “well-armed” aggression, Alain glared past him, glaring at a helmetless Geoff, who winced as boys removed his armor. “Sir, control your boy before his unseemly pride proves fatal!” Whether the threat irked Hugh more than being ignored, I’ll never know, but I saw Hugh’s jaw clench. In a blur, his arm sprang into the air, parallel with the ground, and punched my master’s shield in a quick, efficiently lethal motion – as if my master were livestock for slaughtering. Alain stumbled backward, sucking for air – the blow had split his shield and the horribly dented steel boss had torn the leather hide, sliced through the mail and sunk into Alain’s chest. The leather hide covering the shield trapped his strapped arms – he couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t pull it off. He fell on his knees, stunned and bleeding. The boys huddled in terror so I pleaded with Hugh, “Help him! He’s dying!” Rage melted from Hugh’s face like a passing storm and he realized with alarm what his immeasurable power had done – and to a man ostensibly his “better.” Hugh grabbed each side of the shield and wrenched them apart, shredding the hide covering and exposing the boss. He pulled that out and blood spurted against his face. He put his fingers into the mail and ripped it open like rotten cloth, pressing on the wound to staunch the flow until my fellows braved his proximity and aided our master. The doctor rushed forward, relieved that he could bind the wound without having the remove the mail shirt first. Count Houel rose imperiously and called for Geoff. I couldn’t hear what they said, but Geoff kept nodding and Houel furiously pounded his fist in his palm. Hugh stood a few feet from me with his head down. I smelled something sweet and salty I couldn’t quite place – I closed my eyes and it tickled the back of my mind. Like a memory I haven’t lived yet. I’d secretly taken the twisted and torn boss, and now surreptitiously fingered it behind my back – feeling the shape of his knuckles where they turned it inside-out, the warped edge that had torn and hurt him it should be protecting. Fortunately it missed his heart and lungs – but it’s the kind of scar you want from battle – not from a boy’s fist. Geoff went to Alain first, confirming the punishment, then came over and placed his hand on Hugh’s shoulder. His hand rose and fell like a rowboat at sea as Hugh breathed. Hugh nodded and walked around the center rail. A riffle disturbed the female stands, back and forth like a cauldron being stirred. Two big yoked draft horses were brought out and I understood what Hugh faced. I dropped to my knee beside my master and said, “Please, my lord, please spare his life! I’m sure he can be reformed! I believe he can do anything, anything he sets his mind to.” Alain patted my arm. “We’re only frightening him with what will happen if he doesn’t learn his place. The ostlers won’t let him get hurt. Too badly.” As I helped him into chair, I heard Hugh say, “What about my other arm?” My balls tingled. I shifted from foot to foot as a strange irritation grew in my groin. Two more horses were brought up from the stable. Hugh stuck out his arms, releasing feral tangles of reddish-gold curls sprouting beneath them and spraying a mist of sweat. With ropes, the ostlers lashed Hugh’s wrists to the yokes. Then, to guarantee the horses wouldn’t bolt and kill him, their bridles were lashed to the corners of the court, with enough slack that they could apply a torturous pressure that would remind Hugh of his place in the future. The horses fidgeted nervously, nostrils flaring and hooves kneading the dirt. Houel made an angry speech about honor and respect, but sensing a universal impatience, yielded Alain the field. Alain lifted his hand, and dropped it wearily. The ostlers promptly goaded the horses forward. The ropes leading from Hugh’s wrists twisted, but so did the ropes between his wrists and shoulders – his arms that almost dwarfed the haunches of the horses themselves. Each horse took several steps before its hooves slid against the dirt. Alain nodded again and the ostlers urged the horses harder – but the beasts could only lean into their bridles until the effort made them shake. Hugh stared at a point in the sky, his torso rising and falling, his legs planted like oaks. The stable boys urged the horses forward, but their legs could only dig grooves in the ground. Hugh turned his arms slightly, aligning his heaped shoulders with the winglike flare of his back, and refused to move. A sheen of sweat dappled the burnished golden down covering him, and I caught that sweet, wild scent stirring me – though there was no breeze. I realized it came from under Hugh’s arms. The horses smelled something different – their nostrils flared and with a single shriek, they bolted – or rather, attempted it. Hugh panicked at the sound and tensed his arms – two horses stumbled onto their forelegs. Hugh bolted them all in place. His hands gripped the ropes with white knuckles and his unexpected restraint multiplied panic into terror. The horses threw themselves against the ropes, bucking and springing, but only rising straight up instead of forward. The teams danced side to side, seeking any advantage over the terrible weight that pinned them down – and Hugh, squinting, jerked the ropes tight and stopped their dancing. Hugh pulled his shoulder blades together, his flesh humping and squeezing together. This dragged the horses backwards, and they screamed and stamped the ground in fear and fury. Hugh bent his elbows, tightening his arm muscles, and sixteen hooves skidded toward him half a metre. His hands twisted and he gripped the rope farther along, pulling it toward him as his swollen arms turned purple with veins. Though only half-bent, the meat of his forearms pressed against his bulbous upper arms. The horses’ eyes rolled with panic, their mouths frothing and chomping their bits. Hugh closed his eyes and, swaying side to side as he absorbed the animals’ combined efforts, raised his fists higher and brought them closer together. The reins to the court posts tautened and, as the audience gawped in amazement, the horses themselves rose off the ground and floundered, writhing helplessly in mid-air. Hugh twisted the rope again and drew more into his relentless fingers, his chest rippling with dents and ridges as he fought to bring his fists together, lungs heaving. The animals twisted as they stretched between the posts and Hugh, their shrieks strangled by the pressure into hoarse gasps of desperation. Urine and shit poured out of each animal as Hugh’s inexorable hands reached for each other. A shocking crack of splitting timbers shook the stands as the posts gave way – but not enough. A groan like stretching leather was followed with a horribly wet FWWWWUMMMPPPPP! Hugh’s fists knocked against each other – because his arms had ripped four horses apart, spewing blood and gore over his rounded masses and into the crowd. The torn torsos flew towards him and clumped into the dirt while the head-half rebounded into stands. Some people screamed and ran but some couldn’t move, shaking or trembling. Flushed with victory, Hugh smiled broadly and quickly shredded his rope. He opened his eyes and saw with disbelief what carnage his arms had wrought. His skin glowing and his entire body heaved for air, a weird pride surmounting the grotesquerie. Young maidens surged from the stands, yammering and gazing devotedly at him. Pleased (and a little stunned), he flexed his arms and the girls caught their breath – a couple swooned. The bush-covered, deep round pocket that sank between his back and chest and smelled warm and inviting. One bold lass reached out to touch him, giggling, her fingers flying back as if burned. “It’s okay,” Hugh said. “I can make it bigger.” Hugh began pumping his arms, and muscles still swollen from the struggle turned from red to violet, with blue veins snaking under the skin. Each pump expanded his arms got bigger, until their round shape changed and a second peaked cap rose above the bulk. The maidens were all modestly attired – not a bosom in sight – and yet his presence, his heat, his scent compelled their hands to reach for him, regardless of propriety. Several of the girls swarmed around him, their fingers exploring his physique as they might a statue of Hercules. With a huge smile, Hugh dropped his arms and thrust out his chest, letting them uselessly poke their fingers into its obdurate surface, feel its edges and contours. I could see it dawning on their astonished faces how Hugh’s living flesh mocked the so-called armor of the knights. As their fingertips traced the arabesque of ridges in his back, I could also see a single pulse along one leg of his trousers. Hugh’s own eyes now brightened as the fawning girls sparked pleasure in his man-parts, which in turn shadowed his handsome face with anxiety. Despite his advance development, I guessed he’d always used his arms and legs as tools, never experienced a rush of triumphant potency flooding his limbs, then reaching beyond them and enthralling the opposite sex. The girls’ desire sparked lightning which flowed through his muscles to his manhood, forever fusing sexual arousal with displaying his body and exerting his strength. As if he were entirely a living erection. A savage bellow erupted from suddenly jostling shrubbery and in a cloud of dust, a massive bull appeared, its nose bloody where it ripped away from its ring. The girls shrieked and fled, many simply crouching behind Hugh. The bull faced Hugh and pawed the ground, challenging him. I heard my master say, “There’s something in Hugh’s sweat that disturbs stallions and bulls alike. It maddened those horses, and now our bull senses his dominance threatened.” Before anyone could move, the bull lowered its broad head and charged, lance-sharp horns swinging wildly. Hugh growled back and actually ran at the bull, bulging arms cocked and ready to spring. They met in a thunderclap of bone striking bone-hard muscle as Hugh slammed his chest against the bull’s skull. Each animal bounced back from the impact, the bull staggering with its tongue out. Hugh recovered first and grabbed the horns low. Digging his mighty legs into the soft earth, he shoved the bull’s skidding hooves back, away from the stands. But the bull seemed locked on his enemy – it swung and shook its huge head – or attempted to. Hugh grunted and rocked sideways; his shoulders turning ominously toward the beast, each like a head sprouting a thicker horn. The bull bucked his head until Hugh slowly, steadily, unmercifully slowed it into immobility. The bull pulled back and twisted its thick neck the other way – but Hugh twisted his wrists and raised his elbows, checking its progress and holding it tight. With a strained groan, Hugh forced the shuddering head back up. The bull tried to toss Hugh up into the air but Hugh’s grip held it like tar. With a war cry, Hugh exploded and slammed the bull’s head down against the ground. Angered, stunned, the bull leaped forward – but didn’t get far. Hugh’s shoulders sank back, soaking up the bull’s strength and then driving it back out against the animal with greater force. In quick bursts Hugh thrust the bull back; its set hooves trenched the earth which could not withstand Hugh’s power. Trapped in superior hands – Hugh utterly controlled the head, defying the animal’s every twitch – the animal’s eyes rolled and its bellows rose in broken cries of disbelief. The crowd cheered to see this boy-man tame a bull bare-handed – so Hugh grinned and raised one fist into the air … and contained the bestial violence with one hand! The crowd’s deafening praise drowned out the bull’s chest-rumbling fury, its rippling shoulder and haunches quivering, shaking – impotent. Squealing with rage, the bull jabbed its free horn a few centimetres at Hugh. The boy brought his free fist down on the bull’s head. A crack like lightning splitting a tree shocked everyone to silence. Hugh struck the bull again, his knuckles smacking into the densest part between the horns. The bull’s knees buckled and drool looped out of its mouth. One more THWOKKK and the bull dropped flat. Shaking out his hand while the crowd cheered, Hugh walked around and stuck his arms under the bull’s belly. In one swift move he lifted the enormous beast up against his chest … and then his arms pressed it up over his head. He dropped it once against his own stony shoulders and the bull guttered an exhausted wheeze. He lifted the pull again and repeated the drop, the impact making the bull’s head loll. Finally Hugh lifted the bull over his head and carried it around the arena, giving everyone a close look before he SLAMMED it against the ground, its legs splayed out like petals. The impact clattered weapons in their racks, and some of the ladies lost their balance. The bull lay perfectly still so Hugh slapped its face several times to see if he had killed it with one fist. The bull opened its eyes, saw Hugh, licked Hugh’s hand and rolled over on its back, its enormous male-part exposed, red and glistening. Hugh held both hands over his head again like a champ. Under the crowd’s cheers I heard my master mutter, “That bull will never stud again.” “Young knave,” announced Houel once ordered was restored, “God and Fortune have placed you in the lowest estate, in which your earlier offenses to Sir Alain are unpardonable. And yet your manly vigor and dauntless courage indicate a nobler origin, one in which your outburst would not only be unexceptional, but possibly demanded as a point of honor. With your parentage unknown, we may never know the truth – except through your honorable and obedient actions henceforth. I bid you to mind your tongue and temper, obey my vassal Sir Geoff in all things, and your God-thewn limbs may one day raise you to an estate commensurate with your valor.” The Count then turned to the events planned for after noon dinner, but my eyes were drawn to his left arm, which had disappeared behind his back. It appeared to be rhythmically twisting back and forth – or rather, in and out – as he spoke of Hugh. I doubt anyone else noticed – all eyes remained on the smiling hero, his cowed bull; Hugh’s innocent freckles belied a ferocity lurking underneath. I had to see to my master’s horse. Hugh led me to the stable, saying eagerly, “You need to clean the hooves, right?” he asked me. Before I could so much as unstrap the saddle, Hugh ducked underneath the stallion and lifted him over his head – this after so many exertions already! The horse panicked at first, but Hugh’s deep voice and commanding presence calmed it – I even saw the head of its maleness peeking out, as with the bull. My own trousers felt heavy and tight and I stood riveted before the column of living power before me. “Well, go on!” he said. “I’m hungry!” I grabbed a pick and indulged in cleaning each hoof without bending over – I barely had to move the stallion’s legs. When I indicated I was done – I had no voice – Hugh gently put the horse down and deftly unbuckled the tack, which he effortlessly carried, saddle in one hand and all the dressings in the other, to a bench and rack against the wall. When he came back, he asked if he could brush the animal instead. “I didn’t like hurting those horses before, or the bull,” he said sheepishly. “Something just came over me I can’t put into words – like when I’m hunting. I’m usually gentle here.” He wielded the brush like a pro, the stallion responding with shivers and affectionate nudges – one animal acknowledging the superior protection and care of another. I marveled, not for the first time, how some animals sense danger in his aroma, while others are soothed … and aroused. Hugh ate separately from the other boys, who swarmed around the young squire. The noble boy kept looking at Hugh with jealousy, but managed to captivate the other boys with tales of court love affairs and adventures. Only one boy looked our way … and he too looked jealous when he caught my eye. Hugh finished his portion of stew before I had barely begun, and fetched a bag full of preserved meats from his stash. The rough burlap had his name crudely embroidered on it, and while I finished my plate, the boy-man devoured several hunks of dried meat, teeth ripping the hard flesh apart with animal hunger. The morning’s excitement, and being both full and so near Hugh’s humid heat, made me long for a nap. But Hugh jumped up and dragged me with an iron grip out to watch the afternoon events. When prizes were awarded, everyone looked at Hugh as if they knew he deserved not only the top prize, but the whole array of jewelry. The winners too seemed abashed, even my master, who came in third overall and got a beautiful golden torque with three emeralds. I noted that, though decorative, it could fit his neck – but not Hugh’s. I had to attend my master at dinner and eat with the other boys, but when we were dismissed, I left them and went back to the stable. He brightened like dawn when he saw me – his new friend – and we went outside and sat on a stone in the cool evening. Without a word, he draped his heavy arm around my shoulders and I stiffened to support its weight. After watching the stars come out in companionable silence, he yawned like a lion and guided me to his lonely straw pallet, away from the boys on the other side of the animal stalls. Hugh dropped his trousers pulled off his loin cloth, sniffed it, nodded and put it back on. His virile member swung away like a pendulum – but most remarkably, it was utterly smooth. I had thought, given the maturity of his armpits, that he’d be woolly below as well – but that growth had not yet started, it seemed, no more than his beard. How poised between two worlds he seemed, striding them both like the Colossus of Rhodes. Unexpectedly, I felt fear sleeping next to a creature so powerful and, worried he might crush me in his sleep (or in a bear-hugging dream), I curled into a tight ball on the edge of the mat. The night turned frigid and a howling wind whipped around the stable. But Hugh burned like a fully-stoked furnace, his pale skin radiant. I heard him say, “Are you afraid of me too?” I rolled over and, shivering, told him, “I didn’t think I was, but suddenly I felt very tiny.” He looked hurt and said, “I never hurt little creatures. That would be terrible. I don’t even step on worms after it rains.” He extended his arm and I wormed closer, his heat like a heavy woolen blanket embracing me. My head was smaller than the pillow of his arm, not stony at all but firm and, in some way, compelling and safe. He saw the arch in my loincloth and looked around excitedly – “Did girls sneak in?” When he realized we were alone, he sighed and said, “Oh, you’re like Ralph. Ralph was my friend until the others turned him against me.” “Nothing could ever turn me against you!” I blurted out. “I would pledge myself to you as your vassal forever, here and now, if you could take me.” He giggled at the ridiculous thought but nestled happily against me. “You can touch them, if you want,” he said quietly. “I never used to like it when Ralph did it, but today it felt different – all those girls’ hands. I don’t know what I felt. I sure liked it though.” “You’ve never been with a girl?” I asked in amazement, assuming he’d plowed wide and deep. He shook his head. “My master told me the story of Samson, but the truth was, his hair was a symbol of the other thing that grows out of a man. And when he lay with Delilah, she took his essence – so he became weak, her weak slave.” I realized Geoff must have been afraid of what Hugh’s youthful exuberance might do to a tender girl – or grown woman, or sheep or cow. I said nothing and placed my hand on his belly, which ran beneath my fingers like hot bricks on a cooking hearth. I explored the heavy bulk beneath his smooth skin, not clench into stones but full of rumbling threat, rising and falling with his breath. It felt like a city street brought to life, the cobbles able to yield or harden at will. My hand crept up to where his chest rose up like an escarpment – though he lay flat on his back! – and spread like wings to either side. I could barely reach over his chest and rub the solid mound of his shoulder, and stroke the junction where his chest and arm came together like the stanchion of a rope bridge. He raised his forearm and drew my face in his humid armpit. Though I wasn’t nearly finished exploring his manly terrain, the heat and sweet pit-fumes and soft tickling hairs overwhelmed me and I shot my seed in several fierce spurts, my whole being jerking and one foot cramping up. I don’t know if he noticed, but he didn’t let me go – I think he’d already fallen asleep. My release, after the day’s events, left me empty and I too slept in his dark musky chamber. I awoke before dawn – Hugh was already at his chores. Duke Conan would be arriving this morning to begin the folkmoot (there’s quite a queue of gripers this time around, I hear), and the great entertainments would continue, including a troupe of acrobatic Prussian dwarves said to be astounding and funny. A post rider ripped by us and headed straight into the castle. Word went around that we were to assemble, and soon Count Houel mounted the rampart along with by Sir Geoff and the seneschal, an old man, called for everyone’s attention. “My esteemed brother-in-law, Conan Duke of Bretagne,” Houel announced, “shall arrive presently – yes, yay, quiet, quiet! – and he sends ahead not only his salutations – please, quiet! – but also a demand: William, Duke of Normandy, has taken Maine - yes, an outrage! – and our lord expects Normandy shall enter our lands as well, with or without invitation. Every able-bodied man of service age is to immediately prepare for a dress inspection with what weapons and armor he is able to supply, so that we may assess the state of our defense and prepare accordingly. We shall gather again an hour before dinner ready for war and our lord’s review.” He clapped his gauntlets and hell erupted as everyone leapt pall-mall to get home and dust/shine what rusty pieces of tin may decorate their mantels. The Bretons hadn’t seen much action in recent years other than border skirmishes here and there. Now local politics had now thrown Bretagne’s scent under William’s nose and he was chasing it down like the dog of war he is. For armor, the knaves generally tussled over left-overs and scraps from the smithies, but nothing fit Hugh. An older boy remembered an unusually stout squire many years ago who had left mail behind. It was out of style but I doubt anyone would notice that, if it fit. Hugh had to borrow a tunic from the blacksmith – he rarely wore a shirt of any sort. I spread tallow over the arms and shoulders of the borrowed tunic, trying not to linger in the all the rippling valleys and crests which thrummed like volcanos even while relaxed. I and three other boys then lowered the hauberk over his head. We could have restyled the hauberk, repositioning the giant belly links to Hugh’s shoulders where they were needed, but we hadn’t time. We jerked and yanked hung our entire weight off the armor, squeezing it around the outcroppings his his chest, shoulders and back. It hung loose halfway down his midsection and when he put down his arms, the sleeves didn’t quite reach the elbow. The coif fit fine over his head but was tight around his neck, and spread only partly as far over his upper torso as it was designed to. He started breathing fast in the constricting armor, the clinking links rattling with each breath oddly disturbing, if musical. He could barely move in any direction and looked as stiff as a giant wearing a doll’s costume. We watched in awe as the many war machines were wheeled out and lined up for demonstrations. Somehow, I thought Hugh more impressive than they. By the time Duke Conan arrived, all the pomp and ritual left us sweating in the sun, knees trembling from the weight of unaccustomed armor. A couple boys passed out, clattering to the ground, but Hugh looked fine – confined, sweatily pungeant, but unaffected by the heat. While reviewing us, Conan blinked several times when he came to Hugh. “You there, come forward,” Conan ordered. Hugh walked stiffly forward. “How can you fight? It looks like you can barely move.” Knowing he had erred in not previously providing Hugh with suitable armor in case of war – so rare was fighting in these parts – Geoff piped up and said, “He’s had a growth spurt recently and his armor is actually at the blacksmith’s for alterations--” Duke Conan silenced him, eyes glued to Hugh, and said, “I was speaking to the … boy.” He walked around Hugh, suppressing a sigh at the span from side to side, and front to back. He actually ran his fingers across Hugh’s upper back to test if this was some kind of prank. I don’t think he could tell where the steel stopped and Hugh began. Suspicious, perhaps, that beneath the tunic was steel casing of some kind – perhaps plated armor (Houel could hardly afford to fit his entire levy in plate – no one could), Conan came around and ordered Hugh to raise his arms. Then he cocked his ear, listening closely. Hugh raised his arms straight out the side. The links squirmed noisily as the hard surface below changed shape. The entire hauberk rode up several inches. “Now throw your arm back and bend it as if you were going to throw a spear.” Hugh got his arm half-way back when he got stuck. Conan exchanged a dark look with Count Houel and Hugh wiggled his torso, shifting several more belly inches up around his chest so he could move his arm all the way back. As he half-bent his arm, the links twisted and flattened around it. “Make a muscle,” Conan ordered. Hugh obliged. Hugh tightened his fist made his sinews expand, higher and wider. The mail exploded, shooting fragments of steel in both directions. The other warriors yelled and shielded themselves from the painful missiles. The Duke blinked and saw the pale reddened mound surmounting through the shattered mail, splitting the tunic as Hugh made it bigger … and bigger … and bigger still … and with a final straining grin, created two peaks and peppered us with several more links. Hugh looked eagerly at Conan for approval, but Conan simply stood there with his mouth open. So Hugh, thinking the Duke wanted to see more, held out his other arm and flexed it fully-extended. The chain mail tightened noisily while the meat of his back-arm jutted out … getting rounder … bigger … until it shamed the upper arms of most men and held the links at maximum tautness. His front-arm resembled rose in a long arch, trembling a moment against the links until they popped in the middle and ripped open, exposing the deep crevice between the two halves. Hugh then flexed his arm to match, possibly outdo, his other arm – and the mail and tunic obediently tore apart deep into the pit and over the dragon-claw undulations of his shoulder. He stood there, showing off his two beauties, and several women fainted. Female sighs and moans (or I should say, high-pitched sounds – not limited to females) sang through the assembly as he put his hands on his hips. At the same time, he moved his elbows out and widened his back in stages, left to right, left to right, so you could see his it from the front! The links chinked and jumped, the bottom rising higher and higher up his torso … and then Hugh bounced his chest muscles back and forth. Twisted steel shards blew off his chest and showered down on the crowd, often drawing blood. Even the Duke was not immune but nobody stopped him, watching him in rapt awe. Pulling his shoulders forward, he split the hauberk down the sides, tearing steel like old cloth. Strips of unhinged metal flowed off his body like oil. He kept on popping all his muscles until he reduced the tattered armor to old fringe hanging off the coif. For a moment, I felt a communal urge to spontaneously kneel. But Conan’s eyes shone avidly, and he clapped his hands together. He turned toward a pavilion set up for dinner and ordered, “Clear away the food and bring that banquet table up onto the dais. Right up there,” Conan pointed. As servants scurried, I heard him say to Houel, “I think we have a secret weapon against Normandy right here. I will test of his capacities.” Turning to Hugh, he intoned, “Young knave, come forward and show us your pith.” “Please, sire,” Hugh said, bowing and coloring deeply, “I’ve done enough lately, and it makes the other boys – they’re scared of me. I don’t want to scare people anymore.” “It’s not a request, boy!” Conan thundered. “You will do as commanded or face the consequences.” A nod from Geoff removed his objection and he nodded his obedience. Obviously the Duke hadn’t been informed about the bloodbath yesterday’s “consequences” turned into. It took four straining, huffing servants to trundle over the enormous oak-plank table over the uneven ground. While they struggled with the empty table, Hugh pulled off the coif, his arm nearly pressing against his face, and stripped off the remnants of mail and tunic. A flock of girls surrounded him, rubbing shreds of tallow-covered tunic into his white, perfect skin with a fervid devotion that would make the saints jealous. Others caressed his chest and several explored his back. Three or four of them gripped his arms and he suddenly raised them to his sides, the girls hanging off like pennants and giggling with feverish delight. He showed off how his arms charged shape, raising and lowering the girls with only the granite peaks. They swung back and forth but he stood solid as a Maypole. A couple dropped to caress his legs through the boar hides but that alarmed the ancient seneschal, who hobbled over with a loud bell and shooed them all away. The table arrived at the said, but the servants were too exhausted to lift it up the step, so four fresh servants came and heaved, fumbling, with all their might. Duke Conan grinned and commanded, “Everyone - remove your armor and pile it onto the table!” Geoff sent the dwarf troupe over to help, and as boys helped free their masters and shucked their own hauberks, the dwarves made a clever show of passing it along and, climbing upon each other’s shoulders, layering the mail and helmets with exaggerated artistry. The boards of the platform groaned and popped as the weight increased, and increased further. Just when I thought I heard the table complain as well, Conan called a halt, and ordered two goblets to be filled with wine and set at either end of the table. Reaching into a pocket inside his sleeve, Conan pulled out a small cross, gold with garnets and pearls. “If young … young …” (a servant whispered to him) “young knave Hugh can lift this table into the air without spilling so much as a drop of wine from either goblet, I will entrust his master with this, my own devotional cross, to secure his education and his future needs.” A collective gasp went up – knaves were not allowed to own gold. To have a small treasure in trust for the future was unheard of. Conan either doubted Hugh could combine vigor with dexterity and endurance … or he prayed for it with all his soul. Geoff caught Hugh’s shoulder and whispered, “Remember – when you move things quickly then stop, anything not tied down will keep moving. Slow and steady.” I could see Hugh reining his enthusiasm by the set of his jaw. He leapt onto the dais from a stand and surveyed he table from various angles. The platform cricked underneath Hugh’s feet as he circled – the links of armor tinkled and flared in the sun. His additional weight severely stressed a dais constructed to hold a dozen men. The table sported a pair of stout columns carved with spiraling grooves at each end, braced by an inconvenient trestle running the nearly three-metre length of the bankette. And undulating terrain of steel rose in layers above his head. The goblets were nearly brimful. The trestle would get caught between his legs if he straddled it – he’d never get it all the way. I saw now Conan’s strategy – not simply testing Hugh’s brawn, but his strategic thinking and adaptability. And any solution would require more than simple pith. He went around to the back so all we could see was Hugh’s bent, boar-hide covered legs under the table – the armor pile fully obscured him. He squatted and extended his arms at angles underneath. Then he straightened his legs: and the table rose steadily off the platform. Cries of awe and disbelief rifled through the crowd. The platform sank beneath his feet, the wood barking loudly. Widening his stance, Hugh seemed to drop his shoulders and press up from underneath – the towering steel swayed and flashed in the sun. He edged one foot in front of the other, boards sagging loudly from the concentrated weight. Finally, the bottom of his chest-shelf caught against the trestle. He took several deep breaths while everyone else held theirs. In one smooth movement, he powered the creaking table out and up into the air, slipped his head underneath it and shifting his hands to align with the corners for stability. A loud POPPPP! burst from the platform, which bounced dangerously beneath him. One of the builders caught his attention with a glinting knife, and pointed out where the joists were. With a grateful smile (me: jealous), Hugh slowly spread his legs until they rested on the cross-supports. Thicker trusses protested at such punishment – when it was covered with chairs and people, the platform had been silent, solid as the earth – but they took the stress. He whipped his back leg forward and the swirl of interlocking sinews that rose from his waist and twisted around each other to brace the expanse of his upper torso made the carved pillars at the table’s ends look puny. Plus, how such a narrow, flat and tightly-coiled abdomen could rise and moor the broad clustered beef that anchored his oak-branch arms … it defied belief. No blubbery “strongman” rival such power, such beauty. Sweat trickled down the gullies and trenches of his man-flesh, and his groiny-salted scent wafted insensibly through the crowd. Men stirred unwittingly, uncomfortably, some angrily, while girls and women both undulated, their own bodies responding to Hugh’s proximity by lubricating their gyrations and stirring their desires. I felt my own ass and cock discharge an oily moisture as I wiped drool off my chin. Hugh turned his hands backwards and pressed the table high. The mountains of armor shifted slightly but the tremoring goblets stayed dry. As the trestle scraped against his belly – I half-expected to see shavings fall away as Hugh’s serrations carved the wood as it rose. But of course, the ladies had massaged enough cow fat into his skin that it slid easily past them. With his arms extending above his head, his chest bulged out so far out that Hugh pressed his his chin against the top of one to brace his neck. It did not dent. With a final grunt, he thrust and locked his elbows, the bole-thick knotted arms fitting into his shoulder and chest musculature like a complex war machine. The trestle caught on his overhanging chest and bent like a bow in that final thrust – I dug my nails into my legs, afraid the wood would crack. But the squawking wood held and a cheer went up all around. All except Conan, who’s intent face sweated as profusely as Hugh’s, and whose hips jerked violently, his entire body rigid. But Hugh wasn’t done defying our imaginations. Carefully, Hugh stepped to the end of the dais and dropped down onto the first step, bending his arms to keep the table level as he descended. The stair steps squeaked until he got nearly to the bottom, when one snapped with a BANG! Everyone jumped and yelled in fear for him. But Hugh took it in stride, smoothly following the drop while scrunching his body to keep the table level. He dropped his other foot onto the ground, and walked through the last, splintering steps and risers as if they were made of straw. He carried the table directly to Conan himself. Tension gripped the crowd – what was he going to do? For a moment, I felt a flash of panic - he would hurl the table and its contents onto the Duke and pronounce himself King, defying all challengers. I even saw Conan flinch, his guards fidgeting between the call of duty and the sudden will to flee. But Hugh merely lowered the table back down so that it hovered above the ground, and turned it sideways so Conan could observe, and remove, the first unspilled goblet without having to move himself. Then he kept turning, showing Conan and the audience the rippling contours of this back, which tremored in a rapid tattoo from the strain but never flagged from their labors. My eyes were drawn to the perfect globes capping his hide-clad legs - I wanted to grab them and pull him against me – or hang on while he pressed himself into me. But I shook those thoughts out of my head. Hugh stopped again so Conan could take the second goblet and verify that not a drop had spilled from it either. The he completed his circle and, his arms and shoulders beginning to quiver, he lowered the table to the ground as if presenting it as a gift to his lord. Hugh came around, issuing a hot wind of deep breaths and looking as though he could defy Samson and Hercules together. He dropped down on one knee before Conan, his head sinking beneath the rising plateaus of his back. Hugh could barely control his quavering musculature as he recovered from the punishing victory – he vibrated with effort and stilled himself, as he had the bull. In a cracked, hollow voice, Conan said, “Riiii--” He coughed drily, drank half a goblet down and sputtered, half-choking. With wine staining his chin, he said in a tight voice, “Rise, s- … m-my boy. Where is your m-m-master?” Geoff stepped forward, beaming with pride and relief. Conan gave Geoff the golden jeweled cross, and made him swear an oath on the blood of the Savior that that treasure should be used only to secure a future fit for man who will doubtless perform feats of great renown in the service of his lord and land. Again he crowd cheered and Hugh disappeared beneath a roiling female sea. Water, oil, food passed hand to hand through the crowd to care for him where he knelt, and Conan, feeling singularly ignored, stepped over the Houel and called Geoff and Alain to them. “I had thought to test your war machines against one of the menhirs in that field over there – but I think that, once he has fed and rested, we should test them against young Hugh. That will give us a greater idea of how we could deploy him against the machines of our enemies.” Geoff clearly wanted to protest – both the test and the “use” of Hugh in place of a giant rock simply went too far. But it was not his place, and turned away and prepared to speak with Hugh about what he still must do to fully earn the jeweled cross. Myself, I felt Hugh would love dominating the biggest, mightiest mechanisms created by man – if he were fresh. The last few days, he expended more puissance than a dozen or more grown men. Any failure due to fatigue could make him very angry. And I’d seen him angry – Hugh nearly killed an armored knight with one controlled half-punch through his shield. Even a days’ delay would restore him sufficiently. Worried for him, and the rest of us, I tried to tote up how many men would have to pool their strength to accomplish Hugh’s many feats – the horses followed by the bull, then lifting a horse, then chores chores chores; and chores the next morning before bursting armor and slowly lifting a weight that nearly destroyed the dais he stood on. I could see men falling in exhausting, others rushing to sustain an enterprise for which Hugh required no assistance. I felt dizzy – such potency in one boy-man violated every sense of reason and nature. It was a breach in the world, some supremacy stepping down from the world beyond and stretching human belief to its breaking point. I remembered Jacob had wrestled with an angel, and held it helpless in his arms for three solid days before the angel was able to treacherously injure Jacob’s hip, and escape ignominiously the patriarch’s iron grasp. If men have lived before who could dominate even the angels of God, then perhaps such a man could exist again – not a pagan mythical Hercules, but real man, created by God … perhaps to test our faith. See if we would worship the miracle worker or the one true God who made him. I prayed for guidance through this confusion … but my hands weren’t the only part of me pointing towards heaven. “Jealous?” Alain said, coming up behind me, making me jump. “Ah! Sir, uh, n-no…” I stuttered. He gently cuffed my head and gestured to where Hugh had moved to a couch and was being fed and massaged (or groped) by a hundred hands. “Someday you’ll have the girls pawing over you too,” he told me. “But I’m afraid today, no man here can compete with this shining prodigy.” Relief flooded me – he never suspected who I was jealous of…. Mid-afternoon, people stretching from naps re-assembled for the siege-engine demonstration. The first to be wheeled forward was a new battering ram. “In battle,” Geoff explained, “the roof would be covered with wet hides. Thirty metres long, it weighs over a tonne thanks to the iron head. We can fit thirty men on each side.” “That doesn’t look like a ram to me,” Conan said, peering at the head. “It looks like … a fist.” Houel glowed with pride. “That was my innovation. It’s more frightening, isn’t it? Like the fist of God knocking on the door.” Conan rolled his eyes and said sourly, “I think if Hugh stands on that rise over there, he’ll be in a position to test this … fingered thing.” While the engine was wheeled into place, Hugh eagerly ran over and put his hands on his hips. The shadows his wide shoulders and prominent chest cast over his stomach made the cobbles look truly like a stone wall … except that, while he waited, Hugh flexed and relaxed the individual cobbles and rolled his stomach like sea swells. Stone walls can’t do that. Geoff instructed the soldiers, “Let’s start slow – just you ten.” They positions and began swinging the chains faster, and faster, and faster. The heavy SWOOOOOSH through the air conveyed the speed and weight of the ram and for a moment, I seriously feared for Hugh: that ram could knock a bull out more efficiently than Hugh had. It could kill the bull at one blow. Had Hugh met his match? Soldiers swiftly pulled the brakes away while others shove and the machine lurched forward with its thick capped member extending obscenely. An ear-splitting SMAKKKKK! made us wince as the iron fist struck Hugh dead center in his belly. Hugh flew off his feet and the machine lurched backward, shoulders yelling from the shock that rattled their arms. Hugh landed on his shield-tough back several metres away and rutted the turf landing. He immediately sat up and waved he was unhurt, shaking his golden curls to clear his head. The soldiers however hobbled off the platform, gripping their forearms in each hand, faced carved in pain. “That was fun!” Hugh laughed before leaping straight up onto his feet. His stomach blazed angry scarlet beneath his pale freckled chest. He mock-punched himself and clowned like it really hurt, but then he grinned and, stretching side to side and back and forward, assumed his stance for round two. The crowd bubbled with murmuring like a pot nearing the boil – particularly on the ladies’ side. The men gave each other dirty looks at how openly their women displayed such rampant desires – an impotent rage, given their rival. Two dozen new soldiers replaced the first crew and exchanged nervous glances. Once again, the chains swung back and forth, gathering force. It seemed to gather the crowd as well – people swayed back and forth in rhythm, their excitement building along with the ram’s speed. They unleashed the engine with a violent rush and I hid behind my hands. A thunderclap braced the air as Hugh flew higher and faster and farther than before. The log shuddered to an astonished stop and many of the soldiers screamed and fell to the floor from an impact their joints weren’t designed to sustain. Hugh cut a trench through the field and he sank from view. Yet he hooted merrily and we knew that the ram had failed to hurt him again. Yet Conan frowned – I don’t think he expected Hugh to sail into the air, however unhurt he may be. Had he imagined an impossible spectacle? Had he hoped to insert Hugh between a ram and a besieged gate in the hopes of protecting the fortress with Hugh’s stronger build? Clearly that wouldn’t work. I looked at Geoff, who wore the same worried look as my master: an unhappy lord is more dangerous than any war engine. Yet I saw clearly what Conan overlooked: a ram’s force is transferred into the gate or wall, which cracks and weakens as that force flows through it. Hugh did not absorb that force – he repelled it. That’s why the shock surprised the soldiers and why the ram wobbled backwards. It was that repulsion, force being echoed away from Hugh, that propulsed him through the air. A gate made of such material would be impregnable. Hugh alone possessed such material. Again, I shivered, thinking of a living man who could harden himself beyond any other rock or metal in creation. A living man who let me touch him. Cheers and guffs of awe rose from the crowd as Hugh marched back to the frustrated machine, clods of soil falling off the harder bedrock of his back. Geoff rushed over, whispering urgently to him - Hugh smiled like the sun and nodded happily. The soldiers looked frightened. And this time, the ram was fully crowded with men. The crowd mirrored the swinging ram with their bodies, thrusting themselves forward and back in unwitting unison and urging some maximum test which could release their pent-up excitement. The huge log sliced through the air with a deepening WHOOOSH that beat fast and faster until the moment of its release: it sped forward and Hugh unexpectedly leaped at the iron head with his chest. The KKRRRAKKKKK! rang like a church bell breaking apart. Hugh dropped straight down while the entire engine bounce swiftly away from him, the men behind it jumping out of the way and the rowers flying off the sides. Hugh didn’t move. A frozen silence held the crowd until, as a single being, it raced forward. Hugh looked up and sucked in a mighty draught of air, shook his head and looked around, blinking. The crowd stopped, as if the living thing might become a dragon or griffin. A stunned look clouded his eyes – then they focused on the engine rolling to a slow stop, listed to the side where something broke, and all the men crawling away in pain. He remained crouching, catching his wind. Conan himself inspected the state of the ram. A split ran the entire length of the log – it slumped unevenly in its chain sling. Even more amazing, the top two “knuckles” of the fist had flattened slightly, deformed to the sides. “That’s solid iron,” Geoff said, mouth gaping. He turned back to Hugh. Some soldiers were helping him to his feet – he was so heavy it took three to a side and one in back, and they braced their legs jointly against him like buttresses until he steadied himself. He kept jerking his head, the death-knell of the fist still ringing. Geoff kept waving his fingers in front of Hugh’s eyes but the boy batted them gently away and said, in a firm voice I hadn’t heard him use before, “I’m done with having things run into me for a couple of days.” “The trebuchet is next,” Geoff said worriedly. “Shall I--” Hugh shook his head again with a sly grin. “I have different plans for it.” Geoff stepped back, momentarily alarmed by the forthright assurance Hugh now assumed. He walked around in circles, stretching and massaging his crimson chest. I pined to do it for him … and would have done, in front of everyone, had my master not sent me on an errand. His order felt like a dagger in my stomach. I ran quickly, gave a dispatch to a courier, and by the time I got back, the battered-ram had been trundled away and the trebuchet wheeled forward. Two men on each side grunted as they turned the wheels that ran the tackle and slowly raised the mass of iron-bound oak blocks into the air. Hugh wasted no time. “What are we going to do to this?” Conan asked eagerly. “You’ll see,” Hugh answered arrogantly - which seemed to excite Conan rather than offend him. Conan stepped back as Hugh walked behind it, put one foot on the arm resting on the ground, and signaled the drop. The weight crashed to the platform and Hugh roared like a bear as he bore down with his foot. A legging seam burst open, exposing a bovine thigh – and the pivot rod cracked. The entire beam smashed through the machine with an explosion of splinters. Hugh picked up the end and wrested it free, jostling and battering the entire machine. He placed the end of the arm across his shoulders behind his neck and, draping his outside arm over the top, raised the entire thing up parallel to the ground. Then he wrapped his other arm over it . . . snorted like a bull . . . and pulled. His back opened wide like angel wings, his stomach muscles meshed like the gears of the apparatus itself, and his arms filled every space with their compressed, pulsing meat. We heard him breathing heavily in the silence. Hugh’s face contorted in angry concentration, and his elbows dipped. The short length behind his neck actually bent, issuing a CREEEAAAK SNIK-SNIK-SNIK SNIK SNIK FRACCCKK! The heavy bar split open like a monster’s toothy maw. His outside arm pulled and then twisted the broken as Hugh broken bole until it tore away. He pulled more of the bar across his implacable back. One deep breath and again his face strained, pitting the obdurate ridges of his vein-studded neck. His arms too snaked with blue veins nearly tearing through his buttery red-splotched skin. The solid oak held out as long as it could until Hugh’s arms compelled it to shiver, quake and surrender. He kept going, snapping the bar into pieces without rest, his breathing hoarse, his tender boy’s face a mask of resolute destruction. By the time he fractured the last bit, his grimace bore a terrifying resemblance to some fairy-tale demon. Slivers and chips of wood dusted his hair and body from oak exploding under unbearable pressure. Beside him, a stack of logs ready for the fire. “Magnificent!” Conan declared, unable or unwilling to stop the gushing females who pawed his dauntless, bloated arms and reverently dusted splinters from the many crevices in his back and lodged in his hair. I got a tingling sensation in my groin that he’d tear the engine apart with his bare hands with so much admiration – and indeed, he jumped onto the counter-weight and, clinging to a cross-bar with his toes, grabbed an iron strap in each hand and pulled. The iron bent up a bit but stopped. Hugh jerked them hard and broke them free, happily bending them up and back. He dropped to the ground, dragging the tortured iron with him. Then, inspired, he dragged the freed lengths toward each other and began wrapping them around each other in a giant knot. Then he yanked two fresh sections loose, working the cold metal like it was toughened leather. Showing off, he held an arm rigid and folded the metal back over itself by simply turning his wrist, zig-zagging in with tight switchbacks. At the same time, his other arm rippled as it twisted the flat iron into a spiral. Conan coughed loudly and Hugh turned, glowing in the sun and gleaming with sweat. He had saved the most trying test for last. Hugh slugged down goblets of water and gnawed on some fragrant apples, which mixed a sweetness into his rapturous he-sweat as secretions from different body areas ran and mingling together. “In war, we have not time to rest, no time for refreshment,” Conan declared. “When our enemies lay siege to our cities and hurl boulders into our walls and through our houses, how shall we respond? I want to crush them – literally.” He turned to Hugh, his bony arm outstretched toward the sacred grove. “These standing stones have weathered every winter, every storm, since time immemorial. Centuries of raging wars have neither injured nor moved them. Some say they were planted in the time before men, by Titans or Giants. Some say only Druid magic could have raised and sunk them into the fields where they mystify us to this day. Surely no mortal men could have moved such behemoths. “Young Hugh, your task is to do what neither man nor nature has ever done before you. Uproot one of those ancient monuments so it may be used to smash our enemies and their war machines. You may choose your victim – but your choice will be noted.” Conan led the way; a crowd of men tried to raise and carry Hugh on their shoulders, but the ponderous hulk proved impossible to lift and manage, so they simply surged around him like a pack of hunting dogs. Hugh scooped up the nearest two damsels and carried them like bouquets of flowers in the crook of each arm. Their dainty hands tried to squeeze the unyielding marble of those arms, twisting their hips as they did so. None of our stones are as big as the ones up north, but the field still looks strikes me as a giants’ graveyard. Hugh naturally went to the largest one, shoulder-height but a little wider than he. I wondered which weighed more, and nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity – an absurdity only to someone who had never met Hugh. While Hugh walked around the stone, inspecting clefts and lichen, Conan whispered to Houel, “even if he can only loosen it, we should be able to pull it free with a team of oxen. And he could easily build a gigantic trebuchet to launch these stones. Perhaps even a conveyance to move to them.” I shuddered. Hugh carried the focused, appraising air of a land agent, factoring dimensions, materials and weights that hobbled the imagination. Without ceremony, he dug his feet in and fell upon the weathered stone, oppressing it with focused forces beyond anything nature herself could muster. After so many efforts, Hugh drew from a deep well of virility that seemed never to run dry. The crowd tensed along with him as we waited for the monolith to give. No one doubted it could outlast the onslaught of Hugh. Never relenting the pressure he built up, Hugh managed to slip his hands, his shoulders, his legs into different positions, seeking a stronger purchase, groping with his senses toward the spot already growing weak under his duress. Worrying the monument from every angle, wearing out its grip on the earth, Hugh bullied the half-buried boulder until he found the place where Creation would buckle beneath his will A breeze ruffled through the grass … but when it passed, the grass still shivered. “Look!” I pointed. As every eye turned away from the hero and toward the ground, it humped and split. The stone listed slightly into the breach and several people fainted along with it. Hugh didn’t let up but churched the ground behind him plowing into the monolith. A hump broke upward between his legs as Hugh silently commanded the monument to lie prostrate before him. Conan choked as the yawning field disgorged waves of loam displaced by the foot of the stone being impelled up into the light. Hugh stepped back for the first time, shaking his throbbing limbs so the muscles tossed back and forth like small animals. He spent a few seconds catching his breath, and the swung himself under the leaning side, grappled for a hold, and pulled with a heavy grunt. The earth vomited in distress as Hugh dragged the stone towards the level and mashed its face toward his feet. The menhir listed drunkenly now but something deep intruded on his progress and held the stone. Hugh vigorously tugged and wiggled the tonnage, breaking the obstruction and relinquishing its hold on the monolith once again. Hugh’s arms engorged in undulating ridges, spurs and peaks. His shoulders bulged nearly as big as his head, their carved fingers digging like claws onto his arms and back. His concave belly shifted right and left, directing dominance from his legs into his arms and rippling around his frame like wind-blown sheaves of wheat. Finally, with one crippling shove, Hugh wrenched the monolith free of the earth, crammed its face into the dirt as the entombed end blasted through in an eruption of soil and small rocks. When I shook the grit out of my eyes, I could barely believe what I saw – nearly as much had been buried as stuck up from the earth. It was twice as big as it had looked, the unearthed portion was dark and wet, with clumps of mud sticking to it like the lichen huddled all over the exposed half. Nearly twice as big as Hugh, it seemed impossible to move it any further, except – maybe – to roll it down a hill (were the ground not flat). Wasting no time, Hugh walked around the far side, knelt and reached one arm over the width of the fallen warrior of time. With a HUP and a HRRRGGGGHH, Hugh leaned backward, bending like a bow. His stomach clenched in sharp relief and long rods rippled in his extended forearm. The rock rose a few centimeters but then fell back into the turf. Undeterred, Hugh nearly bounced it back up into the air – but this time, the side closest to him slipped and fell. The fact that he could lift it at all froze everyone in a tableau of wonder. He wrapped his rock-strewn arms around it and pulled, his neck bulging and face purple, but only managed to lever it off the ground and shift it sideways a bit, farther away from its empty grave. He reached underneath and drove his legs down as he raised the end as far as his knees, kneading the ground to press an advantage – but again the weight proved too much, and he had to drop it. He called for water and wide-eyed, trembling girls brought him several bowls, along with fruit and a hunk of roasted beef. He gorged himself, allowing the girls to lick the grease off his fingers. He rubbed them against the surface of the stone, peeling off layer of flint and coating them with dust. He walked around to the middle and tried to raise it laterally – it hinged up half a metre or more before it slipped free. Hugh’s face clouded with annoyance and I feared his angry fist might turn it into more manageable pieces – but he redirected his impatience into his arms. Reaching one arm over the top, he grunted and craned it a metre into the air – several people experienced spasms of a certain kind – and held it teetering while he tried to shift the weight for the next stage. But the tonnage resisted his power and bobbed toward the earth. With a strangled scream, Hugh stopped it for a moment – held it – but had to let it go. Setting his feet farther apart, he heaved yet again, grappled the monolith higher, his lower arm bursting its skin as it braced the burden, dragged his shoulders back and, staggering once, wrestled it onto thighs – where it balanced, its immensity sinking him into the soil. Hugh took three breaths, rocking back and forth with each one, then leaned further back and levitated the stone onto his chest, tottering around as the menhir fought his dominance. He sidled to a halt and paused a moment, dwarfing mass trapped by his inexorable arms. His face screwed tight with strain, Hugh pressed the under arm up, its sinews bunching and trembling, while the arm over the top actually flipped the rock over – a move that almost went wrong, had his legs not danced and buttressed him to stop it. Then his legs began to shake violently and he sank beneath the stone which pressed against his face. The crowd burst with burbling concern that he might be smashed under the giant rock, his hubris leading to a predictable end – and I was afraid if it brought him to his knees, he’d but unable to continue. But … it didn’t. He didn’t kneel. He waddled toward stonier ground, looking like an ant carrying not a crumb but the entire loaf. Hugh’s knees began knocking as he fought to stand, the perfect globes of his ass quivering in time – but he worked his hands around to the underside even as he fought to discipline his rebelling limbs. Taking advantage of what inertia he’d created, Hugh wasted no time resting but pressed the rock above him – his body near parallel to the ground. Barking ferocious groans I could feel in my breastbone, he manipulated the granite giant up as he straightened his back and fought mightily against his own shaking arms. With hoarse, whistling war-cry, the god-man-boy straightened up and pressed the menhir up until his elbows locked and framed his terrible visage. He continued bellowing as he trapped the stone mountain in the air above him, mocking its desire to reunite with the earth. He lurched several steps before stopping at the end of the softer ground and sought Conan – rooting the Duke to the spot with his eyes. He stayed that way until Conan buckled at his hips and dropped his mouth in something like awe. With a snarl, Hugh then let it drop behind him and flexed his bloated arms until the cramping made him shake them out. Once more the crowd poured over him, massaging and rubbing him – a crush Hugh might not have been able to sustain had not circumstances turned against us. His sweet odor took on a pungeant manly stink, which the air caught and carried back into the forest. Before long, a grisly roar answered Hugh’s call from the forest. My master said to Geoff, “I thought you said Hugh had scared off all the predatory animals.” “He has,” Geoff replied. “There must be a migration.” “Bears don’t migrate,” Alain said, “And that was a very angry bear. Again, a mere whiff of Hugh’s scent has driven some beast to fury.” We got a first glimpse of the foaming, shambling beast, and Geoff said with restrained panic, “Not fury, but madness,” Geoff concluded. “That bear is mad. Its bite is deadly – even a scratch can afflict a man with madness.” People stampeded for the city walls once the bear blundered sideways out of the grove and shook deadly froth from its drooling maw. Despite being clearly spent, Hugh immediately strode to face the monster – and we all felt riveted by the same thoughts – if he were too exhausted, Hugh would be no match for the bear – killed or, worse, infected. A rabid Hugh could lay waste to the entire county. The afflicted are routinely strangled before the madness takes hold, but who, or what, could constrict Hugh’s throat? The archers ran back to the castle to fetch weapons but Hugh advanced alone. “No! Hugh, I forbid it!” Geoff ordered, but Hugh responded only to a higher calling, his fatigue replaced by renewed vigor. He ripped the shredded remains of his leggings and codpiece and tore away even his undercloth, one naked beast facing another. Women tried to turn away and close their eyes, but they had lost the will to resist the sight of Hugh's golden glory. Palming two large stones, he bounced their weight – likely as much as a strong man could struggle up to his chest – and then hurled first one, then the other, in quick succession, his arms like trebuchets – only more powerful. The bear fell, struck on the head and shoulder … but rose up on two legs, now truly angry. Slinging ropes of poisonous slobber across the field, it roared and fell clumsily to all fours, lighting into a lopsided charge on legs it seemed unable to fully control. As if it were under the spell of a sorcerer’s apprentice. Hugh ranged from side to side but the bear turned and faced him, always advancing. The hero crouched on titanic legs and launched himself into the air, rising for several metres and sailing over the bear like a bird of prey. The animal stood and swatted at him but Hugh flew too far and too fast, causing the unsteady creature to fall onto its back. As it struggled back to its feet, it turned so Hugh could leap and plant himself like a spear onto its vast shaggy back. Hugh tried to wrap his arms around the giant’s chest but could barely reach – his fingers touched but couldn’t grip. The bear roared and shook violently, but Hugh’s fingers pierced the dense fur and his legs clamped over its waist. Then Hugh shook back. Savagely throwing his body from side to side, Hugh forced the bear to stumble sideways several paces before it plant its claws and hold onto the ground. He shook the bear again but it lowered itself to the ground – so Hugh threw his shoulders back with a strained grimace. And overcoming the bear’s fury, bent its spine back and its forelegs off the ground. Hugh cinched his arms and legs – the bear bellowed in pain and confusion, outmuscled by something small yet heavy and brutally irresistible. Hugh shook the bear again until its head wove back and forth, and then he arched his back and slammed that head into the ground. A look appeared in the bear’s crazed eyes – a moment of clarity, a primitive instinct for escape. The beast fought against Hugh’s strength with the renewed energies of something now fighting for its life. As Hugh’s shoulders tensed, prying the bear’s up again, it fought him, bucking and shaking, matching him strength for strength. Feeling the iron spine defy him, Hugh squeezed until the bear screamed. Every move Hugh made in directing the bear one way, the bear countered, twisting and scratching the other way. Hugh’s face contorted as his arms labored against the sturdy ribs, his fingers grappling for a link. The bear writhed violently but Hugh closed his eyes and with a hissing sound, linked his middle fingers. The beast wore stark fear on its face, its chest compressed, its hips being wrench by the horrible contortions of Hugh’s legs. I held my breath – I couldn’t tell what Hugh was trying to do, besides hang on. Slowly, by pitching his back fiercely, Hugh guided the bear to the stone he had just conquered. His eyes sharpened frightfully, and with his teeth bared and an almost-evil smile, he arched his back again and clumped the bear forward with his own indomitable torso. With claws clutching helplessly at the soil, the bear realized – as much as it could – it was losing. When Hugh coerced his captive abreast of his trophy, he flexed his entire body, lifting the bear off the ground and slamming it back down. He did it again, and again, each time gaining a greater bounce until with clenched grunt, Hugh actually flipped himself onto his back on the stone’s surface, the quarter-tonne bulk pronged above him. The animal’s legs waved in the air but Hugh’s back spread out beneath him, bracing against each terrorized thrust of the mindless brute. The boy-man had even crushed its roar down to a steady wheezing moan frothed out with its spittle. Hugh’s legs trapped the bear’s hind limbs and pulled them out and away, immobilizing them. He arched up onto his shoulders and bent that iron spine – and squeezed. Hugh shook the bear to the left and clamped his hands more tightly to its chest. He jarred it to the right and a sickening pop came out of the bear’s lower quarters. The wheeze now carried a bone-chilling whine of fear. Hugh tensed ferociously trembling with impossible effort, bending the bear's steely ribs in on themselves. Hugh’s rising growls drowned out the animal’s eerie whistling. Now gripping his wrists, he shrank the bear’s chest further through barbaric will. His arms, buried deep in the fur, rubbed slightly back and forth: their knots, harder than bone, fractured ribs. He rattled the bear like a doll, draining the dregs of its vitality with relentless determination. Its swimming forelegs slowed, and slowed further, and then merely waved as if blown by the wind. Once the bear’s legs stopped moving (though still twitching), Hugh’s legs straightened out, further disjointing its hind legs and hips. The trapped victim emitted a thin, high wail, its tongue lolled out of its mouth, a harsh gurgling sound coming with it. Hugh could have finished the bear off right there, but something terrible had been ignited in the man-boy’s chest – and further below. Hugh rolled off the stone and plopped the weakened beast onto the ground. Arching his own back, Hugh brought his legs forward and clamped them against the stove-in ribs. Pulling the bear backward again and trapping its lower torso with his own, Hugh gyrated up, his ass dimpling and clenching, his manroot thrusting through the densely matted fur. It seemed to pulse with every sharp crack echoing through the circle. His eyes feverish, the shocking obscenity of the tableau held everyone in a merciless grip. Hugh wrangled his arms up, never releasing their unbearable pressures, hands reaching for the animal's head. Gripping the rocklike skull, Hugh's chest rose like twin peaks as he stopped the bear's thrashing. His hands crept down, his bulbous forearms immobilizing the bear's head. The entire crowd buzzed with tension that ratcheted higher as Hugh linked his hands underneath its head. With a grim frown, Hugh straightened back up, fighting the bear's final desperate spasms. With a final choking splutter, the bear’s head rose in Hugh's puissant grip, its long long neck tremoring. Stretching. Tearing. Hugh’s invincible lance jousted with the arched neck, his hips slowly digging up and down. But the bear's neck was too long - even with the skull pressed into the valley of his chest, the neck did not break. He'd either have to be work his way backwards ... or ... My knees gave way weakly as Hugh's sculpted arms sprouted veins along their extreme curves. Hugh pushed the head up in a harrowing repeat of his menhir feat. A thin shrill shriek bubbled out of the gaping maw, big eyes suddenly blank with a resignation more terrible than its death throes. Hugh's elbows inched up, his hands rising to stomach-curdling wet PWOPP sounds. Hugh stretched the neck unnaturally longer even as the bear's tongue seemed to crawl out of its throat. Blood sprayed from tears in the victim’s hide, the skin rending in garish jagged slashes. Hugh grimaced as he grappled the bear's body down – down and away. Hugh pushed his arms towards the sky with renewed gristle. Through the ragged flaps of skin, I could see thick cables of muscle stretching and then rolling up into tight knots. Soon I could see the white bones floating like beads on a broken chain washed in red. His virile member erupted, spewing ropes of viscous pearlescence through the hot fur and into the ragged wounds. His legs gripped the body firmly, riding it with bucking hips and plowing himself violently against the dying beast. Finally, with a triumphant bellow that shook the stones themselves, Hugh extended his arms all the way up and sheared the bear's head off its jerking, dying torso. The torn neck fountained blood, mired with Hugh's own jetting essence streaming up through the coat like grappling ropes. Hugh’s seed-fountain continued even as the blood slowly ebbed, soaking the coat in his milky pith. He shuddered, his naked muscles rippling and drumming fleetly beneath his papery white skin, and making a final grunting cry, Hugh stubbed himself out in eye-flickering bliss. Hugh paused a moment, chest heaving with deep satisfaction, until the echoing pleasures slowly Faded. Shaking sense and awareness back into his golden-curled, blood and semen-caked head, carried the still-lethal skull, dripping blood and froth of Hugh, to the gaping pit that once housed a menhir, and dropped it in. He went back to the corpse, grabbed a loose hind-leg, and pulled it over to the grave, kicking it in. Then, in desperation or derision, I couldn’t tell, Hugh tugged the stone, bit by exhausted bit, until its immeasurable tonnes covered the tomb. Hugh turned and raised his fists over his head, his heavy arms bent and throbbing like the empurpled mast rising above his navel, shaking its own glistening fist. But only briefly - he sank down, hands on his knees his shoulders sinking and his back sagging. Then he was lost as cheering soldiers surrounded him and, in a joint effort, raised him to his feet and half-carried him away from the slung saliva and gore, to a grassy rise shaded by the setting sun. The women broke through the soldiers with kettles and bowls of cool and steaming water, shouldering them away like an invading army. Over their heads I heard him mutter “meat,” and platters passed hand to hand from the high table directly to him. Sating himself, he fell into a deep slumber, oblivious of the hands massaging oils into his muscles. Soon the jealous guards rallied and drove the women away, circling him and facing out to keep so many hungry eyes and hands at bay. Geoff had excused Hugh from the rest of his chores that afternoon, so after I finished mine and got something to eat, I returned to his pallet. He was fast asleep on his back, lying flat on his back with only a modest cloth around his loins. The air near him shimmered torridly, and sweat beaded on my forehead and under my arms. I quickly doffed my togs and draped myself over his mounded form. He stirred slightly, his barrel chest rising, but otherwise I may as well have been a light blanket. Arousal chases my fatigue away, and take advantage of last night’s offer and stretch my limbs, pressing my body against his muscles – firm yet pliable at rest, their density defied my penetrating fingers, but I could press and caress them, trace the expansive flesh as it narrows and gathers into steely tendons. His blood pulsed slowly through them, perfectly balancing his other humors and restoring his incalculable vitality. My own loin covering stirred as I rubbed against the serpent sleeping between the pillows of its generative nest. The serpent rose slightly, stirring waves through Hugh’s body which undulated and stretched in sleep. His mouth pursed and opened slightly and, overcome with desire, I gripped his upper arms and slid myself up onto his chest. My own member lay erect in the alley that ran down the center of his cobbled abdomen – it fit perfectly, caressed and massaged as those muscles rose and fell as he breathed. From the barrel-crest of his chest, I reached down and placed a daring kiss on his thick, languid lips. Still asleep, his mouth accepted mine, rubbing against my lips. I nuzzled the down around his chin and let my tongue slip out, seeking his. His tongue also sought mine and they caressed one another and explored each other’s hot, wet den. My own drool flowed strongly, lubricating our fun, and a distant, dreamy smile invited me to display greater passion. I sucked his lips and licked his teeth, and when I felt his hands land lightly on my ass, I shuddered in anticipation and a little fear: if he rolled over and didn’t wake up, could I support his weight or would I be crushed or suffocated by Hugh’s ponderous magnitude? I stretched my arms over his and wrapped my legs over his thighs, encouraging him to stay put but offering my nether orifice for his rising python. He gripped me tighter, so tightly I winced and bit his lip by mistake – his eyes opened drowsily and for a moment, we gazed at each other with his hands clasping hindside. Just then a sharp laugh startled us both (and several of the horses). Hugh raised his head as I turned and saw a buxom young maid with a startled look on her face. “You boys are incorrigible!” she said a little loudly. Hugh rose up on his elbows and sloughed me off to the side, where I adjusted my loin cloth and blazed bright red. She paid me no mind. “All rested, hero?” she said saucily, tugging coyly at the lace that held her bodice together. “How would you like a real woman to satisfy you. I promise it’ll be better than some smelly bear.” She spread her knees and pressed a palm into her skirt with an open mouth. Heat kindled in Hugh’s eyes and his groin snake bobbed up through the folds of his cloth. She walked backward toward a stack of hay bales in the shadows. Forgetting me, Hugh rose – like a mountain growing before my eyes, or a dragon taking off from its lair, his body simply kept going and going and going until he was up and around the corner. But Hugh stopped short, looking uncertain. “Come on,” she cooed. “No one will care. You’re a man now. You do what you want.” Hugh fidgeted against the cloth restraint binding his eagerness. “My master said I would grow weak if I did it. I don’t even, you know, do myself. Not as often as other boys.” “You’re no boy, and no man is your master,” she chided. “Not even the king can rival you. Besides, we all saw what you did to that bear. Are you weak now?” She threw a horseshoe, which he caught. Spreading the fingers of that one hand around the prongs but not taking his eyes off her, Hugh squeezed – and crushed the metal shoe as if it were clay, until it snapped in two. Yet he didn’t let it go – gathering both parts into his palm, he folded them in half – both at the same time – until the outmatched steel could bend no further and broke again. His clenched the pieces in his fist and mashed it again, his forearm filling with rocks that scrubbed against each other. A metallic tinkling seeped out between his white-knuckled fingers. When he opened his fist, shattered fragments of steel rained to the floor, unidentifiable as having ever been a forged horse shoe. “Guess not,” he replied with sheepish excitement. The maid had watched wide-eyed, bosom heaving and mouth opening and semi-closing in excitement of her own. Though she massaged both her breasts and released them, she stiffened and shivered as if fulfillment had ignited without any external stimulation. Her eyes hooded with breathless hunger. “Then, what are you waiting for?” she half-dared, half-begged him huskily. That was it. His loin cloth ripped around his vibrant erection has he flung it away and pulled her to him, immediately entering her. She gasped as his girth stretched her open more than ever before, but he didn’t rush to the finish line. Hugh’s natural instinct for lovemaking took over – building, teasing, pulling back, slowing down then racing, all the while withholding his essence. His manfunk wafted through the stable with a delirious mixture of wild musk and protective warmth. Her eyes rolled up into her head – however vigorously he slid in and out, he was gentler, more controlled – stronger – than any man she’d been with. And … he made her wetter than ever before. Mixed with the leakage from his powerful organ, they slid against each other like eels. She clutched at the hay behind her, her nipples like craters as another pleasure wave washed through her. Again, instinctively, Hugh let her subside and then whipped her up until the storm broke in her several times before he unleashed his own deluge. Hugh’s arm shot out and grabbed a shovel, the blade warping in his grip. He shot into her with such force she instantly came again, biting her lip to stay quiet. His ass dimpled and writhed for so long I realized I would get no sleep tonight – perhaps never again. My own midsection rocked as I spurted in envious sympathy. I massaged myself dry with my under cloth and was about to return to the pallet, when I saw it – he wasn’t pulling out. He was clearly still turgid. Still filling her. Still thrusting. She smiled hungrily, grabbing his ass and pulling herself against him. He slammed into her hard this time, again and again, jiggling her breasts and body, shattering her composure and driving her to wild abandon. She thrashed and ground herself against in rhythm against him, whipping her loosened hair from side to side and moaning gutterally like a cow in calving. In full control and awareness of their danger, Hugh smoothly grabbed a leather work glove and gently shoved it into her mouth. She chewed it like it was dinner. He came again, dimpling longer than before but sluicing in and out and spilling long tendrils of cock drool. I stayed crouching, hardening again and barely aware of the pain. And as I suspected, he didn’t quit. More like he was still getting warmed up. But the maid began to flag, endless pleasure addling her brain. She shuddered periodically, ranging between an empty smile and a tense incomprehension that only Hugh’s persistence could dismiss. Her sopping hair lay lank over her shoulders, her breathing hitching from his power and then siking into a heavy, coarse wheeze. He came a fourth time and she moaned in mindless pleasure and pain. His seed spurted down and ricocheted off his pendulous ball sac … as if she were full. For the first time, he pulled out completely, his knob painted her belly and breasts with his man-lime. A steady stream ran down her legs slowly, like freshly-rendered glue. His sword waved challengingly, throbbing with purple ardor. His exhales came fast and heavy and his red eyes burned with feverish intensity. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do but then, face enlivening, he lifted her into the air, spun her around and did what I had so longed for: took her bunghole like a rutting beast. The pain shocked her awake and she screamed into the glove. Her torso impulsively clenched around him but hadn’t the strength to expel the invader. Sliding her up and down on his breed shaft with one hand, he pulled out the glove stuck his fingers in her mouth, attacking her defenses on two fronts. Her panic retreated and as they joined into a single oscillating being, his body commanded hers to banish pain and feed greedily on pleasure alone. Obediently, her body obeyed and her tension fell away like the tattered remnants of her clothing. He bobbed her up and down endlessly before clenching his ass and releasing another eruption of manly lava. Feeling his own control fight for command against greedy, voluptuous gluttony, he wrapped one arm around a stud and squeezed. His arm crunched into the wood – splinters broke out around it. He squeezed pitilessly as the ecstasy of another tidal wave rolled out of him and utterly submerged her. Solid oak creaked and split loudly. Finally he eased down, left the poor oak post alone, and rested his back against a high stack of hay, holding her up with one hand and simply staying still. But staying within her. Not softening. Not at all. The crippled beam groaned as the weight of the roof shifted into its weakness. The groaning excited Hugh and he slowly began plumbing her for a sixth time. Something broke in my mind – a relaxation, an acceptance of such unbelievable strength and stamina. A kind of faith moved my heart that I never felt at mass. My body responded by releasing another white libation, globs of it billowing forth before the ecstacy could catch up – it rushed in late and quaked me to my soul, submitting my life to this thundering, earth-shaking deity before me. Hugh focused intently on her, careful not to bruise or injure her as he ground her back and forth in semi-circles. Her limbs flopped randomly, their motions aimless and simply sparking off stray bolts of joy her weaker frame could not contain. She shuddered again as another convulsion gripped her, and her seizure gripped him and undammed yet another flood of his virility into her guts. Not only the stream down her legs increase, now from two willsprings within her, but her belly began to bloat. Hugh looked as though this premature release – stimulated by her and not commanded by him – had cheated him. He stayed in and bucked her a little roughly, making her jaw chatter loosely, until he pasted her insides a seventh time. Ignoring how her rib cage expanded in his grip, Hugh plunged deeper with an urgency he hadn’t shown before. His bull-balls slapped the back of her ass as he chased the shimmering bliss he caught so easily again and again. His back stiffened and spread apart and the overflow of another cascade splattered his nutsack and thighs. Her eyes opened with bemused surprise as she belched and … smelled Hugh in it. The maid passed out completely and slumped on him, twitching and jerking like a dreaming dog. His face glowing with greed for a vein of gold that ran deeper and deeper into the mountain, he kept excavating for it. A series of short hard rams made her burp his salty musk, made her breasts flop along with her arms and nodding head. The hammering sped faster and faster until his cheeks became a blur. Then suddenly he stopped and mashed her down as if he were trying to snap his manhood off. But that prong stood up to him defiantly and rebuffed his efforts. Within the frenzy of his ninth fusillade, a heavenly smile pierced his face like a sunbeam after a storm eliciting a heavenly smile to spread across his face. The sun banished the storm and he slowed down to a steady strum. Pinning her against a wall of hay with only his horn of plenty, he put his hands on his hips and wiggled them, watching her bob like a puppet. Hugh didn’t like her leaving him alone like that - so he leaned forward, placing one fist on either side of the hay beside, and supported her with It while staring intently into her face. His presence penetrated her dazed mind and dragged her back to consciousness – while he stayed still, spreading and pulsing with her, her own grinding movement down below betrayed her return to paradise. He began slow rotations, lazy figure eights that hardened him until his balls hitched. Then, again, he became … perfectly … still…. But she shook with warring tensions and seized with unhinged rapture. He grinned with masterly hauteur and withheld himself until she scratched violently at him and seemed she’d shake herself apart if he did not feed her. Still he waited until her panting desperation opened her eyes – he locked them to his – and she seemed to wither and bloom at the same time within his gaze, her mind turning inside out beneath the fullness of his revelation. Still he waited. Still he grinned. Finally, drool spilled in rivulets out of her mouth, followed by a plaintive mewling bordering on despair. He nodded, slowly, over and over as he felt her identity disintegrate – and then he released the hounds of war. Her chest inflated from the inside, a strangled cry of incredulous surrender rose from her gaping mouth, and her breath, redolent of his salt, filled the air and made the horses rustle and neigh. His own fecund odor returning to him from inside her kept his demonic prick sharp as he tunneled even deeper into the mountain for that skein of gold. His muscles flinched - he had ridden himself raw – and now every motion exploded in his brain. A mere normal man would pull away, flee, his brain melting. But Hugh was made better. He carried her gingerly to a worktable, sweeping clean its surface with his arm, and laid her down. He stood upright so that the pressure bore down on his virility, and though it bounced her up a little, it soon settled down. Standing there, hands on his hips, his massive chest rising and sinking like storm billows on the open see, he defied every extreme sensation – he refused to withdraw, he would not pass out. Hugh willed every impulse into submission, and wrung the savor out of each moment. They could not gang up on him. They could not overcome his control. His chest rolled triumphantly as he disciplined his own rebellious passions and directed them to serve him one more time. The lightning from this battle shot into her. She twitched wildly, arms and legs spasming and battering his ram inside her. He conducted the unbearable pleasures until he chose to let them go. Throwing his head back, he barked and howled, reached up and grabbed a roof joist: and each time her leg kicked or her hand flicked, his fingers sank deeper into the splintering oak. He swayed there, his head shaking slowly back and forth and veins pounding in his neck. With a moan of pure satisfaction, his shoulders twitched and his hips swiped her back and forth across the table. He froze and braced his legs and ass. An eleventh milking surged into the maid. Her body swelled, her neck fattened – and his puissance gushed out of her moaning mouth in driving bursts. My body wrenched a third helpless time together with gripping alarm. I felt immobilized but somehow I shouted, “Sir!” as his seed trickled out of her nose and not only from her ears, but also her eyes, like pearly tears. Hugh’s eyes whipped open and he turned and glared in mad fury. I fell back, my cock now heaving drily, and mustered all my courage. “She needs a doctor!” He looked back and for the first time saw the swollen main, his viscous ichor still seeping from her head. He pulled out suddenly and a bucket’s worth of slime whooshed out and all over his legs. He lifted her in one arm and, with the other, battered a hole in the side of the stable. He ran into the village, naked and not only erect but still foaming like … like a mad bear. He woke the doctor by breaking his door in half. The doctor clutched his blanket in terror, then saw the girl and jumped up so Hugh could place her on the bed. Though he was no longer in her, the overflow continued to leak out, spreading slowly over her body. All the time, though her eyes fluttered pure white, the smile never left her lips. The doctor pushed gently on her belly and semen oozed from several openings at both ends. He turned around and, seeing Hugh’s still-drooling plowshare, started in amazement before recovering himself. “Young man, I’ll take it from here.” Tears stained Hugh’s beautiful features. “I didn’t mean to … will she be all right?” “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the old man confessed. “So long as nothing inside her has burst, she should pull through. Though I doubt she’ll ever be the same. You should prepare yourself however: I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a father, several times over. Such prodigious … vigor … might likely plant a prodigy of seedlings in this young girl.” Turning away, he muttered again, “Like an Irish rabbit.” Hugh seemed stricken so I gripped his unyielding arm tight as I could. “Come, you should rest again. And I can’t carry you if you fall asleep stark naked in the street.” Hugh shuffled out and embarrassedly propped the shattered boards door back in the doorway. Overcome with a surge of relief or joy or something, he grabbed and lifted me high into the air, shook me wildly with an ecstatic grin on his face, and draped me over his shoulder like a potato sack. I could feel the slimy slap of his dick against my feet as he trotted down the moonlit street. My hands explored the battlements of his back under the guise of holding on: the central pennant-poles, the squarish berms of annealed flesh over each shoulder blade, and the ramparts that spread to either side. The feeling his shoulder rippling back and forth against my belly made me come again but, having nothing left, it hurt more than anything. I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Back in the stable reeking of fornication, he flung me onto his pallet and stared down proudly. “My friend!” he said, beaming, chest flaring. Then, treating me more like a pet than a friend, he lay down beside me, enclosed me with his irresistible arm-mass and tucked my face into the deep pit of foggy musk between his chest and back. He fell to sleep immediately but my heart raced like a hunting hound. His bushy hairs tickled my forehead and soon his peace encompassed me. I dreamed I was running beside him and wagging my tale forever and ever. THE END

Hugh the Young Knight written by Ceep for the Seigneur de M. Hugh felt uncomfortable in his own skin, but that was the only pitiful facet of his life. The fact that he acheived knighthood at the legendary round table at such a young age was truly remarkable and enviable, yet all he knew was unease for it. It was not the affections and admirations of the people that left him feeling sheepish and shy, though; no, it was the very reason that he sat among knights who, in his eyes, were twice the man he was, yet the opposite was true. A specimen of masculinity rarely unseen, a contrast to the freshness of his face, his young body rippled with muscle tone and power; even through the stuffy clothing and the chainmail he was obliged to wear as a knight, the lines of his musculature were unmistakable, lending him to be unintentionally intimidating to those around him, yet the gentle, freckled features of his face and his supple, pale flesh lent themselves to a more friendly, youthful appearance which rendered him approachable. Indeed, Hugh had a gentle, if not quiet disposition, yet a fierce loyalty to that which he believed in - and what he put most of his faith into was his coat of arms and the honor of his kingdom. Though the youth had not yet been tempered by the fires of bloody combat, nor had he taken a life, those he stood beside thought of him as an intelligent and capable knight in spite of his age. In celebration of Hugh's knighthood, the captain of the knights saw fit to propose a banquet - and the queen, an intelligent beauty who was thoughtfully involved with the knights of the roundtable, allowed this feast without opposition. Amongst the queen and the entirety of his greatest peers, Hugh felt absolutely tiny, a truly ironic sensation, considering his musculature over even the most fit individual there. There was conversation, a great meal, and drinks to be enjoyed, yet Hugh was ever the wallflower, eating quietly and talking politely, avoiding any and all eye contact with the queen out of a sense of bashfulness - and that was quite difficult, for she frequently looked his way. Hugh was certain he could see ulterior motives in her gaze, and had he been a little bit more mature, he would have easily seen her lust. Yet, all he knew for certain was that the queen was giving him queer looks and flirtatious glances - what could he do but tolerate it? Very soon, a toast was held in Hugh's honor, one he found difficult, to say the least; bearing a contrived, cheeky smile brought on by overwhelming embarassment, he took the praises of his queen and his fellow knights with modesty, yet the lovely royal lady blindsided the youthful knight with a command that shook him and rendered him speechless. "Brave young Hugh," she said with a tone not unlike a sultry purr, silencing the entirety of the dining hall, "rise for your queen. Let me gaze upon your youthful body, a fine model of the male form!" All heads turned from her majesty, Guinivere, to lowly Hugh, so young that he should not have been any more than a lowly squire. "I, ah... I beg your pardon, your majesty?" he said, his voice a tiny squeak. "Hugh," she said slowly, "you heard me well." Then, letting a seductive smile grace her features, the queen relaxed in the comfort of her decorated seat, awaiting young Hugh's show. It was so unlike Hugh to be any kind of an exhibitionist, but there it was - a direct order from his queen. For many long seconds, he simply thought of rejecting the command and forfeiting his knighthood, but that would have cost him everything. Resigning himself to the queen's will, he rose from his chair, standing above the heads of all his fellow knights. All eyes were on him; in deathly silence, they awaited his next move. Please give me the strength, Hugh silently prayed with momentarily closed eyes. He felt no divine will enter him, but he made up for its' absence with willpower of his own. Emitting a long sigh, he began to curl his mighty arms inwards, at the same time subtly hunching himself over. With blushing cheeks and a subtly grimacing expression, he flexed his arms for all they were worth, and Guinivere looked on with obviously hungry eyes - had anyone been watching her and not Hugh, they would've seen the very unladylike way she licked her lips. Hugh felt all their gazes on him, criticizing him, scrutinizing his every move, and it unconsciously spurred him to do the best that he could. Straightening his back, he smoothly lifted his arms above his head, and he exerted every ounce of his strength; his muscles bulked heavily, stretching the tight mall to its limits. It would have been appropriate to see him holding an anvil in his bare hands, or maybe even the entirety of the castle's tower, but all he lifted was the air itself. As he ran every cluster of youthful muscle in his arms through their paces, they trembled, as if such power was too much for them. He balled his supple hands into white-knuckled fists, and he shuddered. He soon reached the height of his spectacular double-bicep pose, and at much the same time, a noise of wheezing, protesting metal came forth, growing more and more intense as the youth worked his muscles. With a grunt of exertion, the chainmail he was dressed in split in a dozen places, ripping like fabric, just as easily as the shirt over said mail. There he stood, still blushing, his unlikely arms and his defined chest clutched loosely by ruined garments, his face still alight with blush, by then more than ever before. "Very good," Guinivere said quietly, belying the true lust she felt for that handsome youth, "you may take your seat again, young Hugh..." Well past the banquet that evening, Hugh found himself amongst his fellow knights, still quite bashful from the outcome of the feast. He had been issued a new set of chainmail and a fresh tunic - bothh with some extra slack in them, to help prevent another such incident from occurring - but the youth chose to remain in the nude following his bath. As he finished up and dried himself off, he heard escalating words from Lancelot, arguably the most respected and beloved of all the knights of the roundtable; ordinarily, a scrap between even such noble knights was not unheard of, but the things passing Lancelot's lips were stunning to all - Hugh included. "I can hardly believe the behavior of our queen! I saw the lust in her eyes as clear as day!" Though Lancelot's plight was, on the surface, one of morality and disgust, the truth was that he felt jealous - Guinivere was a woman of impeccable beauty, not to mention exclusivity for her royal blood. It certainly flustered Lancelot to know that a youth nearly half his own age had her favor and her sexual admiration, yet to admit his own lust for the queen was not at all acceptable; the bitter irony was that speaking derisively of her was accepted more than admitting his own wantings for her body. Whether he picked up on this or not, Hugh correctly assumed that Lancelot's anger was his fault; being a good, noble knight, however, Hugh simply would not stand for such words about his queen. The youth abolished any and all shyness; all that mattered to him was the honor of the queen. He emerged from the baths with his expression set in stone, his inexperienced eyes glowing with intensity. Lancelot turned his gaze on the nude form of Hugh; momentarily, he was staggered by the sight of his body, though it wasn't the first or even second time he'd laid eyes on the young knight. "You shall not speak of the queen in such a way, Lancelot!" he warned, finding himself unafraid as he stood toe-to-toe with Lancelot. For a moment, Lancelot - dressed in merely a loose-fitting undergarment - looked as though he were sizing up the youth as an opponent, but ultimately, he shook his head. "Forgive me, Hugh, I should not have spoken ill of our fine queen," he conceded, his tone one of benevolence, but not submission. More and more, he found himself admiring the pale-skinned youth before him in more intent ways, and in the slack confines of his undergarment, he felt his shaft swelling with blood. It was just obscene that a teenager, nearly a mere child, hat such an enormously powerful body. Hugh, pacified but still not accepting of Lancelot's behavior, stood proud and tall, his muscles flexing and twitching even at an idle, his heavy, uncut shaft hanging freely between the carved flesh of his thighs. "Your body," Lancelot said absently, having stepped back to better view Hugh's form, "such a form, it's like your mother and father carved you out of marble, Hugh." The comment brought Hugh pause, and it interrupted his unconscious intimidation, replacing his stern expression with a blushing, somewhat dull look. "Ah, thank you, Lancelot," he bleated, suddenly well aware of his handsome fellow knight's roaming eyes - in some way, he felt comfortable with Lancelot ogling him. "Please, Hugh, satisfy my curiosities," Lancelot said with a hint of arousal in his voice, taking a few steps away from the youth. There, in the training hall - just off of the knights' quarters, where they slept and bathed - was a rack with hundreds of pounds of armor and weaponry upon it. It would've taken a horse and a carriage to move it with so much gear upon it - but, almost instinctively, Lancelot knew Hugh could move it with ease. "You want me to lift that?" Hugh asked, tightening his jaw in unease and disbelief. Wearing a small, coy smile, Lancelot nodded and chuckled. "Try it. You might be surprised." Feeling just as shy and uncertain as his forced show in the banquet hall, Hugh momentarily sized up the rack; at least ten feet tall, it was covered in mail, plate armor, swords, axes, and shields - easily several tons worth of steel, not to mention the fact that the rack itself was built out of sturdy, ancient wood. "Lancelot," he said uneasily, looking back at the handsome knight - Lancelot nodded reassuringly, folding his arms across the toned form of his chest. "Try, Hugh, please. Satisfy my curiosities." Hugh sighed, and though the noise reeked of impatience and disgust, it was actually a sound of exasperation - why did everybody wish to ogle his body like so? To somebody so sexually inexperienced, it was very unusual to Hugh, but he would oblige Lancelot. Squatting down, clutching the cumbersome rack by its' base from the side, Hugh grunted, the sound not youthful, but rather one of a grown man pushing his body to the limit. Before Lancelot's eyes, the pale, freckled example of pristine, male beauty before him began to rise that loaded rack - clutching with his arms, lifting with his legs, Hugh rose inch by inch. His carved biceps balooned, the mighty pecs flexed tight and in deep striations, every single muscle strained and bulged, stretching the velvet boyskin. Hugh’s body became carved and edgy, a superior, unreal musclebeast as he showed off his true power. His breathing, once steady and calm, had since degraded into animalistic and unintentionally lewd huffing. Lancelot was staggered, and had his jaw not been clenched, his lip not bit in a display of admiration and arousal, his mouth would have hung open. To see a form so youthful and perfect as Hugh's lifting that rack so high that it crested over his head, revealing his animal-like, bushy armpits, his body glistening with sweat, his herculean chest heaving with the labored breathing of a wild animal, Lancelot was shocked, amazed, and incredibly aroused - in the snug-fitting undergarment around his hips, he sported a mighty erection, and all he knew for certain was that he had to feel that youth's body. Hugh set the rack down a mighty thud!, followed shortly by the rattling of mail and armor. A few armaments fell to the floor in noisy, harmless clanks and clatters, but Lancelot could hear none of this - all he wanted to hear was the gruff panting, the near snarling of Hugh's breathing. He smelled the youth's undeveloped scent, that which would one day be a potent musk of unspeakable attraction and heartbreaking sexuality, and he availed himself for the youth. As he approached, Hugh turned, his freckled face alight with blush, his skin damp with sweat; before he could speak a word, Lancelot kissed him, slipping his tongue into the warmth of young Hugh's maw, teasing over the youth's palate and teeth in an enormously sexual gesture. Before Hugh could even register the kiss, Lancelot ended it, and he pressed his cheek to Hugh's own, savoring the feel of soft, pubescent flesh on the shaven stubble of his own - which, inversely, was a sensation Hugh enjoyed. "L-Lancelot," the youngest knight stammered, finding himself silenced with another kiss, this one shallow and brief. Lancelot had no words, and he drove on with instinct alone. He nibbled and kissed down the impossibly mighty youth's jawline and neck with brisk speed, but he dabbled on Hugh's chest. There, he licked, he kissed, he gnawed; no crease of muscle, no swatch of smooth, freckled flesh was safe; Hugh shuddered and moaned, and involuntarily, he flexed hard for Lancelot, pouting out his chest, presenting like a peacock to the handsome knight. Hugh unknowingly fed off of Lancelot's worship, and his shaft, once casually flaccid, had already begun to swell with arousal, engorging its' length with blood. As it reached its' peak and it came around to a respectable length but an unbelievable girth Hugh shuddered, and Lancelot was further stricken by the youth's form. Even as compelling as the ambivalently tender and hard flesh of the youngest knight's chest and arms was to his kissing lips and licking tongue, Lancelot could not resist that which dwelt between Hugh's chiseled thighs. Dropping to his knees, unabashed in his homoeroticism, the handsome Lancelot clutched Hugh's meat in a strong, tough hand, a contrast to the virgin flesh of that penis. Squeezing it firm in his grip, he pulled down upon the uncut foreskin of the youth's length, exposing the tip, its' shade a muted pink, one unaccustomed to light or the chilly air of the outside world; indeed, to have the tender glans of his shaft so ruthlessly exposed sent a shiver up Hugh's spine and made him moan, yet the moisture and warmth it naturally knew was replaced with another - Lancelot's mouth. The handsome knight struggled to engulf Hugh's colossal manhood, and as he descended, he removed his groping, tugging hand, placing it, along with the other, on one of the youth's thighs. Hugh's cheeks lit with a vibrant and youthful blush, making his cute freckles all the more apparent, and though he quaked and moaned with pleasures yet unheard of to his sexually inexperienced body, he found himself embracing an almost feral dominance; setting one of his smooth hands on the back of Lancelot's head, he encouraged the handsome knight to work his swollen shaft harder, doing so with wary pushes and squeezes on the back of his skull - Hugh was not entirely sure what he was doing, but whatever it was, he somehow knew it was right. Distantly, Hugh wondered if this was a common occurance for Lancelot, or if it was similarly his first time with another man - but at the forefront of his thoughts, all he really acknowledged was how wonderful that mouth felt around his length. Huffing with nearly the same intensity and urgency as when he'd so effortlessly hefted the armor rack, Hugh held firmly onto Lancelot's head with both of his supple hands. Everything about the moment was unspeakably fine; Lancelot, whether by practice or dumb luck, sucked and bobbed upon the youth's turgid member with incredible ferocity and skill, and his manly, rough hands alternately fondled the hairless, wrinkled, tender hide of Hugh's scrotum, or the carved-in-stone curve of his rear-end. Hugh soon felt himself nearing the bliss of a climax; he had masturbated, but it was a rare occasion, for he found his time spent better practicing with the sword or maintaining his fitness, and so Lancelot's ministrations were helped along by a pent-up, pubescent libido that rarely knew the casual release of a loving hand. "Oh, ah, nngh!" Hugh grunted, screwing the charming, youthful features of his face into a toothy grimace, clenching his naive eyes shut. Sweat dripped from his body; once but a sheen not unlike a morning's dew, it freely poured from his form, and his member, nestled safely in the hot and humid confines of Lancelot's gulping, sucking maw, oozed incessantly with bitter-salty pre, stinging the knight's tongue, but not in a manner unpleasant. With his huffing and near-snarling reaching a crescendo, Hugh pulled Lancelot's head flush to his pelvis, and he stood up on his tip-toes in the sweet, sudden agony of his climax. Every cluster of muscle and iron-hard sinew tensed to a density not unlike chainmail, and he blew a colossal, pent-up load down Lancelot's hungry throat. The older knight wasted not a drop of the young, yet virile and thick seed that Hugh saw fit to feed him, and the youth's orgasm and dominance brought him such scintillating pleasure that, without the use of his hands, he sullied the insides of his undergarment with a sloppy, manly mess of his own. When Hugh at last returned to his normal posture, and he appeared to be his timid, usual self, he awkwardly unhanded Lancelot's skull and apologized down to the handsome knight - Lancelot stood, and without a word, he silenced the young knight mid-sentence with another kiss. The feel of such supple, pink lips on his own was blissful, accessable pleasure - but they were finished for the night. "You, young Hugh, need not apologize for anything," Lancelot said enigmatically, walking off to the baths. Hugh watched him go, and then he made his way to bed for that night, where he slept very soundly. The next day, Hugh's attempts to reconcile all that had happened the night before were cut short; a mysterious command from the queen herself, delivered by her handmaiden - he was to come directly to the queen's bedchambers and speak to no one along the way. Hugh felt an odd chill down his spine, a tingling of worry, even though he assured himself he had done nothing wrong - it was simply an immature reaction to being summoned by the highest of authority like so. Stepping through the threshold of her bedroom door, dressed in his new chainmail and more slack, forgiving tunic, Hugh looked adorably uncomfortable, and more out-of-place than ever before. "You summoned me, your majesty?" said the handsome young man, moving before the bed, for upon its' edge sat queen Guinivere, as lovely as ever, if not in the regal setting of her throne room. Hugh made to kneel, but the queen stopped him with a hand upon his chest. "There is no need for formalities or anxiety, young Hugh," she cooed with gentle reassurance, her tone not unlike that of a caring mother, but her eyes exhibited anything but such innocence. "Regarding your display at last night's banquet," she began, at once summoning a mighty blush to Hugh's smooth, freckled cheeks, "I wish to see more of the same, without the prying eyes of your peers - only mine." Sitting back, she looked unusually casual for a queen, but her eyes were ever lewd, burning with sexual intensity and desire. Despite his endearing shyness, Hugh obliged - but this time, he disrobed, shedding the tunic, the mail beneath, and his undergarments, exposing the naked, supple flesh of his chiseled body to the chilled air of the castle and the hungry eyes of the queen. His manhood, though flaccid and unaroused, hung heavily between his thighs, promising to be the most handsome penis the queen had ever laid eyes upon - and indeed, she couldn't help but glance at it, even as it was. Her eyes studied not just the youth's genitalia, however, for she examined every crease of muscle and every bulging strand of sinew, taking in his appearance with a subtle, nearly animalistic lick of her lips. It slowly dawned on Hugh that the way his fellow knights treated him was not derision, but jealousy - he was so reluctant and bashful to acknowledge it, but he was built like no other man he'd ever seen, his body chiseled out of what seemed like stone. With this realization, he began to flex almost involuntarily, well before the queen's mark, but she didn't seem to mind it at all; biting his lip in concentration, he pouted out the mountainous bulk of his chest, presenting that smooth flesh, and at the same time, he raised his swelling arms high above his head, his supple hands clenched into white-knuckle fists. Lifting his arms like so exposed the wiry, fluffy bushes of his armpits - the pits themselves exuded an acquired taste of a scent; though Hugh did not yet possess a true musk of his own, having not matured enough, the smell of his body and his sweat was unmistakable, and it aroused Guinivere in incredible ways. With her behavior growing increasingly unladylike, Guinivere stood from the bed, looming before the bulging, yet charmingly youthful form of Hugh. With another subtle lick of her lips, she leaned in close, and she partook of a sniff of an armpit, a tentative one; the smell of his sweaty masculinity made her shudder, and beneath the regal dress she wore, she was growing quite wet. With lust unchained, she pushed her delicate nose into the bush of his armpit hair, and she sniffed deep, taking the youth's undeveloped musk deep into her lungs. Just as bold as her nose was her hands; delicate and soft, covered in pale flesh nearly as supple as Hugh's own, she clutched the youth's half-erect penis and plump, dangling scrotum in one, and with a distinct, royal thoughtfulness, she gently bounced and groped the tender flesh, coaxing a deeply aroused, wavering groan from the handsome young knight. Such a careful, yet intent touch saw his penis swell with arousal, its' shaft engorging with blood, reaching its' full length in record time. With a smile most coy, Guinivere wrapped her slender digits around that penis, and she gave it a few long, soothing pumps, coaxing mighty wads of pre from the tip in heavy spurts, each one accompanied by a full-body shudder and a deep moan from the youth. It was not Guinivere's intention to get Hugh to a climax yet; his pleasure would come, but only as a consequence of her own. "Hugh, sweet, handsome, valiant Hugh," cooed the queen, shedding her dress and the stifling undergarments beneath, exposing the striking female beauty of her form to the chilly air and to Hugh's hungry eyes. Her hips - delicately curved, so very womanly, but not overtly pronounced. Her breasts - swollen and full, pale and supple, the nipples stiffened and hard with arousal and the cool temperature. Behind her, a fine ass, but Hugh's was arguably finer. With the queen so close to his colossal form, Hugh was unable to partake of the view of her long legs, but what he saw was enough to leave him nearly drooling. "Your majesty," he whispered, his tone laced with lust and reverence, both vying for control of his quaking voice, "your body, it's so beautiful, I would give anything to have you." She pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss, and then she trailed a delicate digit down the range of his hairless chest, savoring the contrast of his body; though supremely muscular, he was so pale, so soft, his flesh sprinkled with charming, youthful freckles - this would be a night to remember for both the queen and her loyal knight. "Come, Hugh," she said tenderly, backpedaling, moving to kneel upon her bed. Hugh did just the same; beneath his bulk, the bed creaked in protest and unease, though it held up. With the youthful, hulking knight so close, Guinivere let her fingers run wild over the creases and crevasses of his chest, though they came to dwell upon the pink, tender nubs of his nipples. Once soft and inoffensive, they had since stiffened with arousal, not unlike his member. Though nowhere near as tender as that particular flesh, Guinivere's touch brought him tingles and shivers of pleasure, impulses that shook noises not unlike whimpers from him. "Oh, your majesty, Lancelot's touch was not half as pleasing as yours," he cooed, blushing only after the fact; in consideration, Guinivere paused, then twisted her beautiful lips into a coy smile. "So Lancelot couldn't resist you? I see... It seems I am not the only one so afflicted with your form," she chuckled, punctuating her words with a soft kiss upon his cheek. Hugh could only shake his head slowly; the poor youth was so embarassed by what he had blurted out that he couldn't even answer with words. Guinivere acknowledged his bashful nature; indeed, it was one of the things that made him so adorable, and it was a fine contrast to the masculinity of his male form. Furthermore, she had precisely the cure for such a lack of confidence; lying back, shying away from the youth's bulk, the queen slowly spread her legs, exposing the slender lips of her cunt. Hugh had never seen such a thing before, but instinctively, he wanted it. As she spread those folds with her digits and he was allowed to gaze upon the moist, inviting pink of his queen, he bit his lip, erasing the pale, pink color from it for a moment. "Have at your queen, young Hugh," she said, her voice a sultry purr, her eyes exuding raw sexual desire. "As hard as you wish it - my body is yours this night!" Hugh needed to hear no more words; he pounced with animalistic lust. Just on instinct, he knew what to do; he prodded the swollen, blunt tip of his penis to the inviting, deep pink of her cunt, and he sank it in to the hilt. Precum and vaginal juices were his lubricants, and they were beyond sufficient; he entered her without pain, only pleasure. The handsome youth quaked and shuddered with overwhelming pleasure, finding his first time with a lady to be an erotic dream; Guinivere was not so noisy, but still, she moaned and stroked fondly over the ripped arms of the youth, which were planted on either side of her. "Mmm, yes, Hugh, have me!" she shuddered, rolling her eyes before closing them; with all the ferocity of a beast, Hugh started to pound his shapely hips, bobbing his deliciously taut behind up and down in an endless, mindless groove that matched no music, and served only to please himself and his queen. Hugh panted and grunted in gruff, overwhelming desire; not unlike the way he had snarled and rumbled like a bull when he performed his feats of strength for Lancelot, he became similarly noisy for the queen. Consciously, he told himself it was all for the queen, but deep in his subconscious, he knew it was all about him; there was his ego that she was nurturing, whether he realized it or not. He knew that his own pleasure was what mattered most, and that Guinivere's beautiful body was a means to an end. It was a thought no self-respecting knight would ever admit - but Hugh hadn't even realized it himself. Indeed, he was straying off into more animalistic territory; he heard her moans and smelled her scent, but those impulses came to him like visions. He watched her plump, pleasing bosom bounce and jiggle enticingly, doing all it could to lure him in for a lick or a suck, but he was set in his ways; he would fuck his queen for all she was worth. "Oh, Hugh, H-Hugh!" she cried out to him, losing any and all composure as the handsome youth went on, his rhythm degrading into chaotic bucks and grinds - soon, he would climax, and that was apparent in his grunting and snarling as much as it was in his actions. Hugh knew nothing in the way of prolonging sex; so inexperienced and full of the hormones of puberty, all he knew was how to get off, and that was precisely what he did. Pounding his mighty cock in to the hilt, smacking his balls into the queen's thighs, Hugh erupted with an outspoken noise of pleasure, and he shot an incredibly virile load deep into the queen's womb. Her cry suggested a climax of her own - whether or not she had actually gotten off, Hugh didn't know, and in an uncommon moment of callous thought brought on by self-serving fucking, he didn't care. But, in his afterglow, he cuddled close to his queen, and he partook of her compliments and her kisses - and in time, he drifted off to sleep in her arms, so used to the exhaustion of sex.

CHAPTER ONE The August sun was a hellish ball of fire and getting into the pool was heaven after spending the last hour mowing the lawn. Sighing dramatically, I called out to Rhys. “Holy shit, you still working that garden? Don’t think for a second I’m going to help your inefficient ass.” My twin brother stood up from his labors and wiped a perspiring brow with the back of his gloved hand. His other hand held a sagging clump of weeds. He wore nothing but sandals, board shorts, and dirt-laden gloves. His lean torso was literally dripping with sweat. “This shit’s harder than it looks, asshole,” he said with a smile as he threw the handful of plants into a nearby trashcan. Rhys and I had graduated high school three glorious months earlier and were both a day away from departing for college. Our parents and little sister were off “running errands,” which we suspected meant they were getting us send-off gifts. We both figured having them return to a freshly manicured lawn was a nice way to pay them back. My brother, apparently done with his task, walked over and sat at the edge of the pool, letting his legs hang in the water. We were each a little over 6’1,” a little under 170, with brown hair, blue eyes, and long, lean bodies. Too lean in my opinion. However, I had no trouble admitting we were each more than a little attractive. We had faces which made girls melt on site and had both taken advantage of that fact over the last few years. We played sports to a limited extent and remained active, but neither of us had spent any time in a weight room. That was all going to change for me. I’d wanted to put on gobs of muscle for years but never felt I had the opportunity to work out seriously. Rhys was a bit of a brain and never showed much interest in the gym. That was ok with me. All twins eventually find ways to differentiate themselves from the other and I was going to be the buff one. Over the summer, I’d been doing pushups and situps every night. The effort had given me a bit of a chest and a nice four pack. All-in-all though, we still looked exactly the same to the casual observer. It took a few weeks before new friends could tell us apart. He was a little taller, I a little beefier, he had a more squared jaw, I had slightly higher cheekbones. All differences were subtle but they summed up our physical individualities. Confusing one for the other wouldn’t be a problem for long: my brother and I would be starting fresh at two different universities the next day. We were pretty much each other’s best friend so were still getting used to the idea of being apart. I didn’t get into the school he really wanted to attend and that was that. Despite our physical similarities, there were different things going on upstairs. Let’s just say Rhys’ SAT score beat mine by a few touchdowns…a few dozen touchdowns. I could tell my brother was thinking about the next day too. “We’ll call each other every day,” I said. “We’ll see each other for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Our spring breaks match up exactly.” Rhys smiled but truth was we were ready for a bit of a separation. It was me who encouraged him to go to his dream school in the first place. Anyway, we got some luggage from the family; the parents acted as if we built them a new house when they saw the yard. All was well in the world. The next day we said goodbye to our sister (who stayed home to watch the dogs), got in three separate cars (mine, his, and the parents’) and headed 300 miles north to my brother’s school. It would be a quick afternoon of unpacking before we’d have an early dinner and leave my brother to his own devices. Then we’d travel another few hundred miles to my new school. The first leg of the trip went by quickly and we made it without a hitch. The campus was abuzz with activity, littered mothers, and fathers, and their kids yearning to be free. After a quick lunch, we got to work unpacking Rhys’s stuff. As I helped make the bed, I couldn’t help but look at the bare mattress six feet away. Rhys’ roommate had yet to arrive but I was already to suppressing a little jealousy that the bed wasn’t mine. Maybe this would be a harder separation than I thought. I occasionally looked out the window to the grassy field between the buildings where freshmen were already congregating and getting to know each other. Footballs were being thrown and young bodies sunbathed. Flirting was rampant. My dad was out with Rhys at the nearby Home Depot (dad always needed to put his own constructional touch on everything) while my mother and I finished the room off. She was removing clothes from a suitcase and putting them in the drawers when there was a knock against our open door. My mother and I turned to see a kid my age standing alone in the doorway. He was a few inches shorter than me, maybe 5’8, had brown hair and eyes, and a dimpled smile that ensured he would have a baby face through his late forties. The boyishness ended there; He had the body of an Olympic gymnast. His loose fitting sleeveless shirt revealed arms bulging with smooth beef. Shoulders the size of softballs disappeared into a shirt completely drenched with sweat. The moisture made the shirt cling to his chest like plastic wrap, revealing two very pronounced bulges between his shoulders. “You must be Rhys Tansey,” he said as he made his way in. The newcomer started to look a little nervous and I realized that both my mother and I were pretty much gawking at him. “Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual as I stood up and offered my hand. “I’m actually Rhys’s brother, Ryan. Rhys should be back any minute now.” “Oh,” he said with a smile as he shook my hand. “Well I’m Kevin.” He pointed at the bed. “Looks like I’ll be your brother’s roommate.” Kevin went back to the hallway and rolled in a hotel style luggage cart which held all his belongings. I wanted to ask where his parents were but remained silent; not knowing if that would uncover a sensitive topic. To my surprise, the first thing he did was open a suitcase and strip off his shirt. Although not as vascular as the guys you see on fitness magazines, the kid was built like a brick house. Even with a little fat around his midsection, you could still make out six distinguishable abdominal bricks below a pair of gorged pecs which cast a pretty substantial shadow on them. I found myself gawking again. The way the muscle fibers danced below the skin on his shoulders filled me with a burn. I wanted that. That’s what I want to look like. Maybe a little more ripped but I’d trade with him in a heartbeat. Packing that much muscle on a 6’1 frame would be a lot of work, maybe 60 pounds of work. You gotta start somewhere though, right? Looks like you’re gonna have some competition in the girls department, Rhys, I thought with an internal grin. Although shorter and with more boyish good looks than the mature ones we sported, his ridiculous physique would definitely turn heads. “Sorry,” he said as he put on a new shirt, this one with sleeves. “But it’s hot as balls out there and I was sweating like a pregnant nun.” He stopped and his face reddened. Then he turned to mom. “I’m sorry Mrs. Tansey.” Then he smiled at her. I bet that grin has got him out of trouble more than a couple times, I thought. I could see this guy majoring in motivational speaking (if that even existed). He had that let’s do this attitude that some people hated but the rest followed. My mom smiled back. “Don’t worry Kevin. I have two of you and a husband with a mouth that would put yours to bed.” I didn’t quite know what that meant but had no plans to call her out. Kevin started unpacking at a rapid pace. He didn’t have much stuff, most of his belongings consisted of clothing and supplements. A few moments later the rest of the family came back and dad made a quick shelving addition to the dorm’s desk. Then we were off to a 5 pm dinner. Kevin, with no family present to speak of, came along at my mother’s insistence. Rhys and Kevin hit it off quickly. He was even good at telling us apart…sort of. “Don’t switch shirts on me guys,” he said as he began wolfing down his steak. “Else I won’t know who is who anymore.” He tore into his meal as if he were starving. My mother’s instincts go the best of her. “When was the last time you ate, Kevin,” she asked, her face lined with worry. Kevin stopped chewing a moment and looked at her slightly confused. “I dunno, three hours ago?” My mother relaxed. “Sorry, it just—“ Kevin blushed a bit. “Sorry Mrs. T, I just eat a lot and have to be quick about it.” Mom nodded. “I wrestled all throughout high school and they made me eat a lot. So food is more of a task than a pleasure these days,” Kevin continued. “I’m done with wrestling I guess,” he said somewhat sadly. “But I’m trying to work out a little more. Put on some mass, ya know? I met a few guys at the gym this morning before I started unpacking my stuff. They have a weightlifting club or something I was thinking of joining.” My dad brightened. “Rhys, maybe you could join too. Ryan’s starting to make you look bad.” I beamed but kept it internal. Dad noticed I was getting a little bigger! Rhys’s face flushed a little and he looked at Kevin, eyebrows raised. “Sure man,” Kevin said with that winning smile. “We’ll keep each other motivated.” Apparently it was decided. I wondered how long Rhys would keep up a workout routine. He was dedicated to academics and the opposite sex, but had never shown much interest in making his muscles bigger. I was a torrent of jealousy, though. I could only dream of having such a good role model when I move into my dorm room. The thought only made me more excited about my freshman year. I’d come home looking like a fucking stud. Anyway, dinner passed quickly. We dropped off my brother and Kevin back at the dorm. My mother cried, my dad gave a rare hug, and before I knew it I was back in my car following the parents down the interstate. We crashed at a hotel late that night and were setting up my dorm room by nine the next morning. I met my new roommate, Steve, who had unpacked the day before. He wasn’t exactly what I had in mind a day earlier. He was friendly enough but made it pretty clear he was going to be staying at his girlfriend’s dorm more often than not. Fine by me, I guess. After another speedy unpacking and the standard ciao lunch with the parents, I waved them goodbye. I was finally a college student. I felt like giving my best Braveheart freedom yell. Odds were my parents were in the process of doing the same thing. Instead, I settled into the life of a college student. The first few weeks went by without a hitch. My brother and I spoke a few times but we each started to slack a bit as we settled into our new lives. I made friends quickly and found my roommate lived up to his word. I barely saw him more than a few minutes a day, if that often. I was true to my intention. I started working out like I always wanted to. At 6’1, 170 I was pretty thin and knew it would take a lot of effort before I started looking the way I wanted. I figured 200 pounds by the end of the school year was a good goal. I didn’t precisely know what to do but how hard could it be? Pick heavy things up and put them down, right? After a few weeks, I started looking a little more cut but hadn’t gained any weight. Oh well, I thought. Guess it just takes some time. Six weeks into my first semester, I was awoken by a buzzing near my ear. My head sprang up, a little crazed and confused before I realized it was the phone I kept on the nearby nightstand. The screen revealed my brother’s name. I shook the sleep from my eyes and looked at my clock. A little past midnight on a Tuesday night. This had better be good, I thought as I accepted the call. “Yeah?” I asked in a raspy voice that obviously wanted to be sleeping. I was answered by garbled nonsense. Shit, I thought to myself. The ass just butt-dialed me. It wasn’t the first time. Being his primary speed dial resulted in an involuntary call about once every couple months. It usually wasn’t a big deal since I was often with him when he did it. Now it was a little different. I was about to hang up when I suddenly made out heavy breathing. A few seconds later I heard a grunt. I smiled like a twelve year old kid. Holy shit, he’s fucking someone. A good brother couldn’t let something like this go to waste. I quickly took the phone from my ear and opened up the recording app. After pressing record, I put my ear to the phone again. Talk dirty to her, I thought with a smirk. “Oh god,” I heard through the heavy breaths. The voice was muted and distorted but there was no doubt it was Rhys’s. Who fucks with their pants on? I asked myself, assuming there was no other explanation for an accidental call. I tried to keep from laughing. “This is fucking awesome,” Rhys continued. “I’m getting huge.” Oh this is rich. Being his twin, I was perfectly aware of where we racked in the package department. We beat the average by a good bit but…huge? Ah, the things we say in the act of love, I thought. Another voice introduced itself. “Keep ----- going. ----- working.” My jaw dropped. The voice was definitely garbled and distant, allowing me to make out only an occasional word but one thing was completely clear…the voice belonged to a male. How come he never told me? I thought. My desire to listen in was wavering with the fear I was learning a secret he wasn’t ready to tell. However, something kept my ear glued to the phone. The breathing continued and the stranger’s voice chimed in again. “----- me ---- your arm,” the voice said. It sounded strangely familiar. Is that Kevin? All-American boy Kevin is my brother’s lover? “------ incredible,” the voice said. There was suddenly a sharp noise that sounded like crumpling a bag of potato chips. The voices returned but were too distant to make out. They conversed for a few minutes before he voices became clearer. “------- ------ fucking ripped -----,” my brother said. “I ------- --------- it.” “------ awesome. You’re ------- than ------- now.” the other guy said. There was a pause. “------- that ------ phone?” “Oh shit,” my brother said. There was a noticeable rustle then the line went dead. I stared at the phone for a moment, half expecting my brother to call me back with some weird explanation for what just happened. But he didn’t. I wasn’t sure what I’d just heard. It could have been sex but there were too many other noises for it to be as simple as that. I put the phone down and tried to sleep. It did not come quickly. CHAPTER 2 “Hey bro,” I said the following afternoon as I walked to my last class. “Hey,” Rhys replied. He somehow sounded different; like he had a cold. “How were classes today?” “Same ol’ same ol,” I replied. I wasn’t digging the small talk. My mind was on a single track right now and I couldn’t help but get to the chase. “Got a strange voicemail from you last night.” There was a pause. “Yeah, I saw that I called you,” my brother said. His voice was definitely deeper. “Sorry about that. It was pretty late.” “No worries. What were you doing?” I asked with a grin. Let’s hear it. “Kevin and I were working out,” Rhys responded immediately. “Working out, huh?” I said, playing the game. “At midnight? How’s it going?” “It’s going well,” he said. “Really well actually. I’ve never felt better in my life.” I stopped walking. There was a hint of something in his voice that I couldn’t quite place. “Rhys, is there something you have to tell me?” Another pause, this time longer. “Everything’s fine, man. Don’t worry,” my brother said. His voice was still shrouding something. “Hey, I gotta go. I’m walking into class right now.” “Ok buddy,” I said, slightly deflated. “Talk to ya later.” I put my phone back in my pocket and continued walking to class. I thought about his tone. It sounded almost as if he were…giddy. Well, I thought. Guess I should be happy as long as he’s happy. It didn’t take long before I realized I didn’t care in the slightest if my brother was gay or not. I was happy for him either way. I had to admit I had a little bit of a man-crush on Kevin and his chiseled abdominals too. Or, maybe they were working out. It was his business…that didn’t keep me from stalking my brother on Facebook though. There was a gnawing anxiety in my gut that I just couldn’t place. Spying from the electronic bushes of the internet seemed to help ease it though. I rarely took part in social networking my brother was pretty active on it while in high school. I clicked through the electronic story of his last six weeks. He’d made quite a few friends in that time, split relatively evenly down the gender lines. All the guys, and girls for that matter, looked like fitness freaks. He’d recently ‘liked’ something called Crossfit, a movie called Pumping Iron, a few nutritional supplements… Hmm, I thought. I guess he has been bit by the fitness bug. The anxiety gnawing at my stomach intensified but I finally placed it…Was I being left behind by my own brother? Physically being the “same” for so long made me take it for granted. He was already the smarter one; what if he came back the stronger one too? I’d been working out like a madman but with no real guidance. What if he had a personal trainer? I had to find out. Rhys’s profile picture was the same as from the summer. I clicked on the rest of his photos only to find out that they were all private now. My anxiety increased and any thoughts of my brother’s sexuality were shoved to the backburner. Desperate, I started clicking on his new friend’s profiles and scoured their pictures on the off chance my brother was in them. Many of them were private too, including Kevin’s. After a half hour of this I had nothing other than the knowledge that all his college friends were apparently gym rats. I continued to search and it wasn’t until I searched the albums of a club he liked called “the Fitz Mafia” that a picture caught my eye. It showed a group of about a dozen college aged males, most of them familiar thanks to the stalking of the last few minutes. In the center sat a very elderly looking man in a wheelchair, dressed in a brown suit. He had razor sharp eyes and a somewhat haunting grin, like he was up to no good. I picked out Kevin standing with his hand on the old man’s shoulder, shirtless and looking as swollen as ever. In fact, although every bit as big as before, he looked leaner and more defined. The chubby abdominal bricks from six weeks ago had partially melted away. The pic was too pixilated to see anything more detailed. The rest of the group wore an assortment of gym attire, some with shirts some without, some the size of college bodybuilders, others more lean. All of them looked to be in good shape. On the far left stood my brother, wearing a t-shirt I recognized. Although somewhat grainy, I could make out his form relatively well and he was by no means the muscle monster I was beginning to imagine. I took a closer look. His arms might have been bigger. Were his traps standing a little higher on his shoulders or was I just grasping at straws? Compared to most of the company surrounding him, he was a twig…but maybe that was masking any increase in his size. I put my hand over the rest of the group, leaving only my brother visible. It was there, a slight widening of his shoulder. Maybe a vein on the visible part of his bicep. “Damn, dude,” I whispered. I looked at the date and was shocked to see that it was posted over three weeks ago. Whatever changes I did or did not see had occurred over two or three weeks! I sat back, my heart racing. I was supposed to be the bigger one. Rhys was one of the smallest in the group, sure, but what about next week? Next month? I flexed my arm and looked at it. A nice bicep formed but it was mostly due to my lack of fat. Then I looked back at my brother. This wasn’t right… * * * “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” I said one rainy Thursday evening. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” Rhys was obviously munching on something and took a while to answer. “Sorry bro, I’ve been busy. Not all of us can skate by without studying.” I forced a smile he couldn’t see. “So all you’ve been doing is studying?” “Heh. Well, ya know. There’s other stuff in college too.” Again, I heard him munching over the phone. Probably some kind of protein bar or something. “So how’s the lifting going?” I asked, getting to the point. “It’s going really well. Kevin says I’m a natural. We’re actually on our way to the gym now.” “Hmm, well tell him I said hi.” I heard Rhys say as much to Kevin, who screamed back. “Back atcha, Ryan. Your brother tell you how fucking swole he’s getting? Dr. Fitz has him on a sick regimen. You won’t even recognize him.” “Dude, shutup,” Rhys said. “Hey bro, gotta run. I’ll call ya soon though.” The phone went dead. It was mid-October, ten weeks into the school year. I was having the time of my life but there my brother was always lurking in my mind. I’d recently started going to the gym more but still hadn’t seen much of a difference. Maybe I need a workout partner, I thought. The weeks went by. I found a buddy to work out with. He was a beginner just like me but apparently spent a lot more time researching the subject…apparently there’s a lot more to weightlifting than I thought. Apparently I had to start eating more. So I did. I responded relatively well, putting on a couple pounds by November at the expense of my former six pack. Calls with my brother were relatively rare, which was understandable. He was my brother, not my girlfriend. The conversations were normal for the most part…maybe I was making too big a deal with this. One night, I found myself Facebook stalking my brother again. It started when I noticed he finally changed his profile picture. It was a headshot of him and some girl. She took it herself, so only their head and neck were visible. His face still looked the same but his neck bulged. It could have been because they were lying down and he was lifting his head for the picture. It was too hard to tell. So I went hunting again, looking through all his pictures, his friend’s pictures. It didn’t take long for me to wander back to the Fitz Mafia page. My heart leaped through my neck when I saw a familiar group standing in a familiar setting with the same old man in a wheel chair. Kevin, still shirtless, stood right next to the old man. He looked ready to win a bodybuilding contest. His short body must have held over two hundred pounds of solid muscle. I couldn’t be sure; I wasn’t a good judge of such things. Come to think of it… I pulled up the older picture (which I had saved on my hard drive) of the group for comparison. There was no doubt Kevin was bigger. His shoulders were the size of cantaloupes and covered with ridges and valleys. Lean traps bulged from them and snaked halfway up his wide neck. His chest was striated even in their relaxed state and any fat that once say around his midsection was gone. His abdomen was a brick wall of muscle now. Most of the others in the front row looked bigger too. Even the lean ones now had muscular bulges wherever they showed skin. I silently cursed the computer screen when I saw my brother now standing near the middle of the back row. He was the tallest in the group but not enough to see more than his head and neck. His lower legs were visible but shadowed enough to hide everything. His neck did look bigger and his traps looked bigger too. It was impossible to tell; he could have been the size of Kevin and I wouldn’t have been able to tell. I leaned back and sighed with both embarrassment and frustration. Embarrassed because I was stalking my own brother; frustrated because I wasn’t very good at it. I glanced at the Facebook page again and noticed the names tagged on the side. Benjamin “Godfather” Fitz was one of them. It was the only one without a link, as if there was no profile associated with it. A quick elimination process against the profiles of the other names narrowed this Godfather’s identity down to the old man in the center. Dr. Fitz has him on a crazy regimen, Kevin had said. “Curiouser and curiouser,” I said as I Googled his name… gotta love the internet. I’d gotten pretty good at this whole internet stalking thing and found his familiar face in no time. It turns out he was an emeritus professor at the school my brother was attending. His university profile was easy enough to find. Double major in Biology and Chemistry, masters in Applied Biomechanics, thirty years in government research, got a doctorate along the way. Specialized in degenerative diseases and human endurance…whatever that means. The profile was dull but set my mind wandering. The two pictures of his mafia and the rapid development of the front row only fed my creativity. I imagined my brother being introduced to some mad scientist, who gave him some new super-supplement that turned him into a muscle beast. My storming brain didn’t help my sleep. I dreamt of coming home one late November evening and seeing Rhys’s car already in the driveway. I walked to the door and opened into a house cloaked in night. A noise coming from the kitchen drew my attention so I made my way there. As I rounded the corner, I saw the back of a figure holding open a refrigerator door. He was hunched down and looking for something to eat. The light in the refrigerator could have doubled as a small sun; it blackened every detail of the figure, revealing only a gargantuan silhouette. His shoulders and back were as wide as a door way. Before I could try to make out any other details, the man shut the door, leaving the room lit only by outside’s fading twilight. I tried to blink away the afterglow of the radioactive refrigerator but in the meantime I could make out only general shapes and nothing more. However, that’s all it took to realize the man was more than a hand taller than me and half again as wide. “Hey there little brother,” the man said with a baritone voice. “Need a light?” His hand reached for the light switch on the wall. CHAPTER 3 I woke up as if from a nightmare; the anxious feeling in my stomach now feeling like an ulcer. The rational side of my brain tried to tell me that this was overreaction on an epic scale. However, that voice was quiet and docile compared to the earth shaking banshee screaming that I no longer had an identical twin. I can’t quite describe what I felt. It was like being in middle school and coming back from summer vacation to find your best friend hit puberty and was suddenly taller, bigger, and stronger than you. Rules written when only magnified by the fact it was my own twin brother. I thought about that for a moment and allowed the mousy little voice of reason a soapbox to stand on. Goofy conspiracy theories aside, he was my twin; my genetic match. Whatever he could do with his body, so could I. I suddenly found myself filled with a newfound resolve. I ditched my old workout partner and tried to make friends with the buffest gym rats I could find. It was, after all, the same thing Rhys had done. Within a few days I was working out regularly with a junior named Terry, who’d actually competed in a few contests over the last few years. He was about 5’10,”225 lbs, and just started his bulking regimen. He wanted to get up to 245 before cutting back down. He seemed like the right guy. One conversation was all it took to make me feel like the last ten weeks had been a waste of time. “Dude, you’re a straight up ectomorph,” he said as if I knew what that meant. “You have to be eating, like, six thousand calories a day if you want to gain weight.” He saw my face drop. “Hey, consider yourself lucky. They called me Pillsbury Dough Boy until my sophomore year of high school. Look at you. You look like a fucking model. I bet you’ve been getting laid since before girls even noticed I existed, and I’m two years older than you!” His lips curled in a mean smile. “Actually, I should probably hate you right now…people like you were the ones that would single me out at dodge ball.” My mouth must have dropped beneath a pair of eyes filled with horror because Terry immediately laughed and smacked me on the back. “Dude, relax. I’m just kidding.” That was all fine and good but wasn’t what I cared about. I looked at Terry. Regardless of what he once was, he was a fucking beast now. “I don’t care if I have to eat a horse every day; make me look like you.” Kevin shrugged. “Well, it’s not impossible. But remember, everybody is different. Even during my chub-chub stage I was always pretty strong. I just had to shed the fat to show it. It’s all about your genetics man. I have to watch every piece of food I put in my mouth; I bet you can eat anything and not worry about losing those abs.” He paused, and the muscles of his jaw squirmed as he tried to think of the right thing to say. “Look man, I’m not saying you’ll be twiggy the rest of your life. We can put some serious beef on you. You may not look like me at the end, but you’ll have a body that could sit on an underwear ad. Besides, between you and me, that’s what the chicks are digging anyway.” That didn’t sound all that bad. Besides, Rhys had the same genes and the same potential. If I maxed out mine then, at worst, we’d tie. I felt more dedicated than I’d ever been before. I had a month until Thanksgiving and I wanted to pack as much meat on my slim 6’1 173 lb frame as I could. He made me eat so much I actually started to hate the taste of food. He had me buy supplements I didn’t even know the purpose of. I forgot what it was like to wake up without hurting. The payoff was that it seemed to be working. I gained two pounds the first week. That weekend I got another butt-dial from my brother. I was eating a burger (my second dinner) I’d gotten to-go from the school cafeteria when my phone rang. The familiar garbled noises were all I needed to know this was not an intentional call. This time the special guest’s voice was female and there was no doubt there was something naughty going on. “Hurry,” she said breathlessly. “I’m trying,” Rhys said. “I can’t get this fucking shirt off.” “Just rip it off. You need new clothes anyway.” The volume of the white noise intensified and I assumed it indicated my brother was turning his shirt into rags. Then it got so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. A series of grunts and pants later, the background noise stopped altogether. I was left only with the suddenly more distant voices of my brother and his new friend. “Goddamn,” I heard her say breathlessly. “----- ----- amazing.” “You ----- seen ----- ----,” my brother said. After that, the words ceased and I was left with noises that would have been completely unintelligible had earlier clues not given away their meaning. He must have thrown his pants (and phone) on the floor. I listened for a moment longer before I got bored and hung up. Well I guess that answered the question about his sexuality. But there were so many more… Why couldn’t he get his shirt off? Was it the thrill of the moment or was he too damn big to meander out of it now? While the pillow talk of a person you’re with always sounds true to ear its meant for, it takes a third party to really judge their honesty...as the said third party, I could tell the girl meant every word. She was in complete awe of my brother. My primitive instincts took over. I went out that night, had a few beers, took home a girl, and banged her into another time zone. There was no doubt she enjoyed it…but not once did her voice convey the utter lust I heard on the phone. * * * Two weeks and another two pounds later, I saw a strange comment on Rhys’s Facebook page. It was from a guy named Raul, one of the muscle buddies from those group pictures. “Hey bud, you left your phone in Fitz’s lab yesterday. I guess I would have left in a hurry if I were in your circumstances, too. That was fucking A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! The prof said you’re his best student yet. Anyway, I have your phone. Come by anytime.” First coeds now bodybuilders? Was everyone in complete awe of my brother? I clicked on Raul’s profile and saw his phone number in his personal info. I entered the number in my phone but let my thumb hover over the call button as I tried to think of how this would go… How’s it going? You have my phone?...Rhys, my man! Yeah, I have your phone. Dude that was incredible yesterday…Yeah? What was so incredible?...Dude, you fucking grew right out of your shirt! What are you, Three hundred pounds now?...Something like that. What did the Fitz say?...He said he wants you to take more of his serum. He wants you to be even bigger…Oh yeah?...Yeah man, we’re all so jealous. We’re growing like crazy but you’ve outpaced us all. What’s your secret?...Good genetics I guess…Yeah, well Fitz wants to try this shit on your brother too. Says experimenting on a set of twins would be perfect. I’m sorry to say he has something stronger in mind for your brother… The scenario made my heart gallop and my imagination ran with it. I nearly dialed him, convinced the conversation would go just like that. Then reality called in with a more likely alternative: Hey who’s this?...This is Rhys calling from a friend’s line? You have my phone?...Doesn’t sound like Rhys… It’s me, budd. So how’d yesterday go?...(A pause) Who the fuck is this? Then he’d hang up and a couple hours later I’d get a phone call from my brother. Dude, what do you think you’re doing?...I dunno, Rhys, I just wanted to see what was going on?...Quit spying on me Ryan. It’s fucking creepy. CLICK… I never dialed. Most people let unknown numbers go straight to voicemail anyway. I did feel the urge to check on this Benjamin Fitz character again and spent over an hour sifting through mostly uninformative crap. His work for the government didn’t show up anywhere. Then I got a wild hair…he’s a professor…professors write for journals…every university has some sort of access software for their students. I logged onto AcademiaScape and searched his name. Bam! First thing that showed up: “A Study of the Effects of Gene ACTN3 Infusion on Laboratory Mice.” It was co-authored by Dr. Benjamin Fitz and a Richard Powers, PhD. Clicking on the link revealed only the abstract. The actual paper was apparently too high profile. This study is a follow-up to the “mighty mice” experiment conducted at John Hopkins University in 1997. In order to be a suitable treatment for degenerative diseases such as muscular dystrophy, human myostatin suppression therapy must be accompanied by an associated cell wall booster which protects skeletal muscle membrane during extreme hypertrophy. The negative effects associated with such a breakdown can be shown in the now famous Hayden Smith case. What follows is a comprehensive examination of the gene ACTN3 and its associated affects on laboratory specimens. Where most myostatin suppressed mice experience severe structural degeneration accompanied by the increase in muscle volume, the ACTN3 mice showed none of these adverse affects. In fact, cardiovascular health and pulmonary activity was seen to improve… That was all that was available…not even a full abstract. It sent my gut into a tizzy again. My brother was part of some crazy experiment. This old man had tricked a dozen college students into taking part in his experiments. Did Rhys have to sign his life away to do it? Was it dangerous? Did my parents know? I had a picture of the two of us on my desk showing a day on a beach just last summer. The two of us had our arms around each other’s shoulders, skin bronzed from a summer outdoors. Even to me, our resemblance was uncanny. Two teens, identical save for the color of their board shorts. I blinked. Well identical save for the slightly bigger pecs on my brother. The overhead sun seemed to cast a shadow across his upper abs in a way that mine didn’t. For that matter, he had better abs too. A trick of the light? His shoulders were a bit more globular. And he had a nice vein running down the center of his bicep. Wait, he was taller too. I had to reach up to rest my arm on his shoulder. My brother grew wider, his skinny frame bulging in all the right places. His traps rose up and his shoulders expanded out, pushing my arm up and forcing my hand to slide off his shoulder and onto his back. My 170 pound brother was now over 200 and still growing. He was ripped but still lean as striations appeared across his chest and shoulders. A valley formed where bicep met triceps and grew deeper as the muscle around it swelled out. His once soft looking skin now looked hard as it stretched over his growing body. Ripped and lean became jacked and huge as his body exploded with growth. His board shorts grew tight across his growing body as quads the size of his waist stretched the fabric like spandex. A huge teardrop bulged just above his knee and the lines of his thighs deepened. My head now came up to Rhys’s chest as his body ballooned past 250 pounds. I couldn’t help but notice that I was now literally in his shadow as his growth blocked out the sun… I closed my eyes and shook my head. When I looked back at the picture it was the same it has always been. Two twins enjoying the last days of summer together. My imagination was wild but was it inaccurate? What was he going through right now? Did he wake up every morning feeling bigger and stronger? His body harder? Was he bigger than all the studs that seemed to adore him? Two days later I called my brother again. I guess he’d gotten back his phone. “Hello?” the voice on the other line said. It was deep and raspy. “Hey Rhys? What’s wrong with your voice?” There was a clearing of the throat on the other line. “Sorry, bro,” Rhys said. “I was at our football game yesterday. Yelled myself horse. Got a fucking sunburn during it too. My back is as red as a fire truck. Everyone’s been saying I needed a good tan…assholes.” “Oh, ok,” I said. “Thanksgiving is this Wednesday. You want me to head over there a day early so we can carpool home?” “Naw, man. It’s kind of out of your way and the traffic is brutal heading south. I should get home Tuesday around dinner time. Kim has a dance recital that day so the parents won’t be getting home until nine or something. We can catch up then. I can’t wait to see ya.” “I’ll bet,” I said. “What’s wrong?” Rhys asked. “Nothing. It’ll be good to see you.” “Ditto. T-minus 72 hours!” he said. “Gotta go now though. Heading over to—“ “The gym, I know,” I said. There was laughter on the other side. “You know it.” He paused and his voice grew serious. “We have a lot to talk about. Later.” “What do we have to-“ I started but he had hung up before I could get out the first word. I may have tried to tell myself I was upset with his decision to let a doctor experiment on him. Truth was I’d do the exact same thing if given the chance. Although torrents of different emotions crossed through my mind like a series of entwined spaghetti noodles, all were smothered with a thick sauce of jealousy. The next day I shocked myself by finally opening up about my brother. Terry, my new workout partner, and I had become pretty good friends over the last few weeks and he knew something was eating me. Before I knew it I was spilling my guts out as we finished up our workout. I didn’t tell him everything…I left most of the stalking out, making the discoveries seem more accidental than they were. Nevertheless, I prepared myself for a strange look and a lost friend. That didn’t bother me; it felt really good to finally talk about everything. I got the weird look but Terry didn’t seem to be looking for the nearest exit. “Dude, just ask him. Hell, give me his number and I’ll ask him. Personally, I think you’ve been watching too many b-rated science fiction movies but, shit, if that’s true then get me in line for that shit.” Well I’m not sure what I wanted him to say but I guess that wasn’t it. “Look,” he continued, “it’s neat to dream about some crazy pill that turns on the muscle switch and lets us grow at will. But life ain’t like that. This old cook probably just has some supplement that’ll be all the rage for a month before a new one comes out. I’ve seen it a dozen times…and have taken all of them. It’s the same shit. At the end of the day it’s all about eating, lifting, and sleeping. The rest is genetics. It’s hard for even me to admit that but it’s true all the same.” I shrugged, still deep in thought as we went through the front door. I could tell Terry was getting a little agitated at my grumpiness. “Man, you’re such a fucking pouter when things don’t go your way. Take the sand out of your vagina and either ask him or get over it.” He thought for a second. “Let me see those pictures you were talking about,” he said as he put his sunglasses on. I pulled out my phone and loaded the page with the group shots and the old man. Terry looked at them for a while, shifting between one and the other a few times before speaking. “Well, that guy in the middle is definitely making some impressive gains. I’ve never seen anyone cut down bodyfat AND gain muscle like that.” He looked a little more. “A lot of these guys are making big gains. Not all of them, but a lot of them. You’re right though; it’s hard to tell what’s going on with your brother.” His finger flicked the screen a few more times. Then his eyebrows rose. “You said there’s only two? Looks like they posted a third buddy.” He smiled as I tried to grab the phone. Although longer of limb, he easily deflected my attacks with one muscles arm. “Hmm,” he said as he simultaneously investigated the picture and held me off. “I don’t see your brother though. That kid in the middle is sure packing it though.” He handed over the phone. I snatched it away as if that afforded me some sort of victory. This picture was different. Although Kevin was still front and center, Dr. Fitz was now off to the side. To say he was jacked would be an understatement. He stood in what looked to be boxer shorts with the rest of the group standing around and beside him. He was giving the camera a double bicep pose and looked ready to kick some ass. He was as shredded as I’ve ever seen a person who wasn’t airbrushed by some magazine editor and beat his weight in the last pic by at least ten pounds. “I’ve seen guys like that center kid before,” Terry said from over my shoulder. “I bet he had a sixpack at seven years old and could bounce his pecs before he had hair on his dick. In high school I played football with a kid who intentionally didn’t work out with weights because it made him too big to play running back. Some people are just made to be beasts like that.” He paused. “Not sure why he’s cutting now. Contest season isn’t until summer; he should be bulking.” “Maybe he is,” I said barely above a whisper. My attention drifted to the rest of the group. All wore familiar faces. While the first two pictures had the group organized in rows as if for a team shot, this one was a lot more informal. They were all looking at Kevin with various forms of comic expression, some with exaggerated shock or awe. It was hard to compare each to their previous picture but some looked a little bigger and NONE looked any smaller. And only eleven guys plus Dr. Fitz were visible, meaning my brother took a break this shot for some reason. Wait… there was an arm visible on the left side of the picture, as if someone had been inadvertently been cropped out. I could only see a forearm and a bit of the upper arm. Whoever it belonged to was pointing dramatically at Kevin. The forearm was covered in bulges and I could see the unmistakable beginnings of what had to be a truly spectacular tricep. Terry noticed me zooming in on the arm and I heard his breath catch. “You don’t think—“ he started. My silence was answer enough. “Naw, man. Look at that arm…look at your arm. We’re talking different planets here. Maybe he’s the guy that usually takes the picture and your brother decided to volunteer this time.” Terry laughed. “They obviously won’t ask him again if he can’t keep everyone in the shot.” I chuckled. “All good points,” I said as I took back my phone. Terry looked at me moment before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “All right, crazy man,” he said as we got to his car. “You think what you want to. You’ll find out tomorrow anyway.” He went to his car door and opened it. “Have a great Thanksgiving. Be sure to eat everything in sight. See ya on Monday.” He started to get in his car but stopped himself and turned back to me as I continued to stare at the picture. “You wanna know what I think?” he asked. “Do I have a choice?” I asked back with a smile. “Not at all,” Terry said. “I think you WANT your brother to be on some sort of super steroid. You WANT him to get huge and strong. You WANT to go home and see a twin who could rip you in half. Admit it, you’d be pretty disappointed if you got home tomorrow only to see your brother was still just linke you.” Then he got in and drove off. That night I dreamt I was wrestling my brother in the dark. I couldn’t see him, only hear him grunting and feel him writhing around me. I was slightly stronger and slowly dominating my twin. Suddenly there was a shift. My brother’s resistance was a little stronger. His grunts grew deeper. Then his body started getting harder and harder. I felt him swell under my now struggling hands. What was once soft and bony was now hard and dense, as if liquid concrete was being pumped into his body, where it hardened immediately upon finding its place. Pretty soon I was being toyed with like a cat toys with a ball. My hands aimed indiscriminately, trying to grab hold. Everything I touched was hard as granite and continued to bulge more and more. His muscles flexed and relaxed as he continued to grow. Then he started laughing. I was resisting with every ounce of my strength but the effort only tickled him. Then he grabbed my forearms with his hands and pulled them behind me. I couldn’t move my arms an inch. His hot breath brushed my ear as he whispered in my ear. “See you tomorrow buddy.” I woke up with my sheets wrapped around me like a straight-jacket. It took me over a minute to squirm out of them. It took far longer for my heart to stop racing. It was a seven-ish hour ride home and I had one exam keeping me from getting in the car. I might as well have skipped the class. I couldn’t read a question without my mind picturing swollen renditions of my brother. I turned the test in, unsure what I put down. I got in the car just before eleven which should have me home by seven. The drive left me alone with my thoughts, which was somewhat dangerous these days. I know most people would think I was over-reacting to the point of lunacy. For one, I didn’t have any proof that my brother had developed into anything. The idea of some strange old scientist experimenting on a bunch of college kids was absurd. And probably illegal unless they signed a medical test waiver or something…and only homeless, desperate people did that. My brother was too smart to get suckered into some medical experiment. Besides, even if he WAS participating, it’s not like he could get that much bigger in such a short time. Right? My brother was just working out a lot and was showing SOME improvements. That’s all. Then how do I explain the calls and the messages? Terry made no secret that it would be hard for me to gain any size…but Kevin said over the phone that Rhys was a natural. Maybe that’s just what guys tell each other in the gym to get them motivated. There wasn’t much of a difference between gym talk and sex talk when it came down to it. But what about all his friends getting bigger? Well, they were bodybuilders. That’s what bodybuilders do: they get bigger. My brother’s no bodybuilder. Right? Hell, even that Facebook post didn’t mean anything in particular. Dr. Fitz might be one of their instructors. Maybe he was doing particularly well in the class. Maybe the whole scenario was just my overactive imagination…but there was one thing I couldn’t shake. We were twins. I know it sounds silly, but we have a connection. We can’t read each other’s thoughts or anything but there have been times we knew the other was especially sad or happy or whatever. The fact I couldn’t shake this feeling fueled my thoughts that he really was undergoing some strange transformation. Four hours until I find out, I thought, surprised at how much ground I was covering. So what if he had gone through some sci-fi metamorphosis. Is that all bad? Maybe I could take part too. I’d tried so hard to put on size but each pound gained was like moving the earth. It would be great if Rhys was part of some breakthrough if only because I might be able to take part too. The hardest part was the not knowing. Why was he being so secretive? We told each other everything. Had things changed so much…for no apparent reason? Maybe there’s nothing to report, a voice whispered in my ear. I paused for a moment. Come to think of it, I hadn’t ever asked him for any specifics. I’d ask how his workouts were going, hoping he would give me every detail. Instead he gave me an answer just as generic as the question. It was as if he thought the question as inconsequential as ‘how’s the weather?’ I hadn’t told him about the weight I’d gained. The mile markers raced by and my thoughts rarely strayed from my brother. The sun made its way towards the horizon and was just touching the horizon when I finally got off the interstate exit that would send me home. By that time my brain was exhausted. Fifteen minutes later, I turned into the driveway of my parent’s house. Rhys’s car was already parked and there was no sign of my parents. The sun had just set and the sky was ablaze in oranges and blues. I practically leaped from my car and headed for the front door. Finding it unlocked, I opened it and entered a house darkened by the approaching night. “Rhys,” I called. Creaks from the second story betrayed my brother’s location. They were followed by heavy footsteps that made their way across the room upstairs to the hallway door. “Ryan,” my brother called from upstairs. “Be down in a minute.” His voice sounded rushed, as if in the middle of something important. I decided a minute was too long. I made my way up the stairs and around the corner. A line of light escaped from beneath the door to my brother’s room. The creaks and footsteps originated from there. I crept to the door, tested it, and found the door to be unlocked. I turned the knob and opened the door. CHAPTER 4 I opened the door to Rhys’s bedroom. My brother was facing away from me, reaching to the upper shelves of his closet and fishing out winter clothes. He wore a grey, hooded sweatshirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Although it was hard to tell much with the sweatshirt on, he was hardly the gigantic three hundred pound monster I had prepared myself for. A quick rundown and he looked every bit the brother I left three months— “Holy shit. Your calves!” I blurted involuntarily. Rhys responded by dropping the box he was fumbling with and cursed under his breath as it rained on his head. He regained his composure quickly and turned his head to look at me. He wore a smile, but it was forced. “Hey bro. I didn’t hear you come up here,” he said as he reached down to pick up a pair of sweatpants nearby and started putting them on. I was up to him in a heartbeat and was able to get a better look at his legs before he was able to cover them up. His calves were covered in veins and stood out in bold relief even though unflexed. I pulled up Rhys’s shorts to reveal quads big enough to make most pant seams beg for mercy. His boxers were bunched up against his groin, their leg openings just not big enough to lie further down. “I knew it,” I said breathlessly. “I was going to tell you about this,” Rhys said. “But I didn’t know how exactly.” “What do you mean you didn’t know how exactly?” I asked as I stood up. I wanted to say more but the verification of three month’s worth of paranoia was finally hitting home. I had to sit down and was lucky Rhys’s bed was nearby else I’d have to make do with the floor. It was one thing to suspect something like this was up…quite another to have be true. “How much do you weigh, bro?” I asked. “About 200,” he said immediately. “I—“ “Take off your shirt,” I said. “What, I—“ “Take it off man. This shit is bat crazy and you owe me that much.” We both knew he didn’t owe me a damn thing, except maybe an explanation. But I had to know. Rhys seemed to understand, although as he took off his shirt he looked as if the act were against his better judgment. Beneath that bulky top was an upper torso carved from a mountainside. Traps bulged and crawled halfway up his neck and were born out of shoulders bigger than both my fists combined. A thick vein pulsed across the front of his shredded delt. His arms were at least seventeen inches but looked much bigger. His pecs were striated even when relaxed and his abs were skin covered river rocks. It’s not like he was huge. It’s just that kind of definition had a way of making you look so much bigger. 200 wasn’t that crazy for someone at 6’1. I was breathless…he looked so much bigger than 200. “What did he give you?” I asked, shock slowly giving way to a strange sense of excitement. My brother’s eyes rose. “What did who give me? Kevin? Nothing—“ “Don’t play dumb with me, Rhys,” I said as coolly as I could. “Dr. Fitz.” “Fitz?” Rhys asked, seemingly genuinely confused. “What does he have to do with…wait, how do you know about Dr. Fitz?” I felt my face grow hot but I didn’t care. I told him everything. My interpretation of the voicemails, the Facebook pictures, Dr. Fitz’s bio and history, everything. When I finally stopped, I held my breath, waiting for my brother to kick the shit out of me. There was no doubt he could if he wanted to. I looked at my brother, whose eyes were stern and face unreadable. There were three long seconds of complete silence. Then a snort escaped his nose and he broke out laughing. It’s strange; the first thing I noticed was the way his abs flexed as he tried in vain to stop laughing. His pec bounced involuntarily too. God what I’d do to trade spaced with him now. I saw my dreams of some magic formula die away with my brother’s reaction. It was like thinking you won the lottery only to find out your numbers were for last week. “You thought Dr. Fitz was giving us some kind of growth hormone?” Rhys said between fits of laughter. “And that I took it? Jesus, Ryan, do I look like I’d use steroids?” Although my face was as red as a fire truck, I raised an eyebrow and nodded to his body. Rhys stopped laughing but the mirth remained in his eyes. He turned to a full length mirror on the wall and admired his body. He was obviously used to doing that. “I’m a little hurt, Ryan,” my brother said as he gave the mirror a double bicep. Good lord, his back looked like it was boiling with muscle. “Why is it so hard to believe I did this through hard work?” “Because I’ve been working my ass of trying to look like that and have a measly six pounds to show for it. You have fucking thirty! In a little under three months!” Rhys’s eyes swelled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “I have the best trainer in the world,” he said somewhat defensively. “Kevin is a fucking beast. And we eat, lift, and sleep together.” He paused. “Well, not sleep together. I mean—“ His face turned red but I waved him off. “Then why is Fitz in those pictures? Why does everyone growing like weeds?” “Fitz is doing a study on muscular endurance or something. He’s taking data on our regimens and results but hasn’t given us anything.” I looked at him. “Ever, dude. Shit, the guy is completely harmless. And I think he’s got a little dementia or something. The old man can’t even find his pencil half the time. He has a nurse take care of him for Christ’s sake. We’ve taken him on as a sort of mascot at our gym. I hardly think he’s capable of sneaking growth drugs into our water bottles.” He paused. “Besides, only four of us are growing. The rest are pretty stagnant.” The sentiment in his eyes had suddenly entered his voice. I looked at him, eyes narrowed. “What four?” Rhys was suddenly struggling. “Well there’s me and Kevin. A guy names Ross and another named Daniel. They’re all—“ He stopped. “They’re all what?” “They’re all in my dorm.” “The honors dorm?” “Yes.” “The nerd dorm?” “Fucking yes, Ryan!” my brother said angrily, his face starting to turn red. I stood up. “What’s going on, Rhys? What are you not telling me?” I felt that tickle in the back of my neck. He knew something. That hint of guilt in his voice. “Tell me, Rhys. You know as well as I that we can feel each other somehow. I’ve felt it all fucking semester and it’s been driving me crazy.” His jaw locked and I saw a stubborn look start to form on his face. I was now a few inches from him and suddenly realized something else. Something that would nail the whole thing home. Something he couldn’t explain as due tohard work. My heart was racing. “You’re fucking taller than me!” The stubborn look dropped from his face like a brick and he looked in the mirror. Sure enough, my twin brother was a little over an inch taller than me. He’d always been taller by a hair for some reason but there was no natural explanation for an inch of growth in three months…especially if I didn’t mirror it. Identical genes had their advantages. Rhys’s eyes were locked on the mirror. I had always been the dominant brother and I had to strike before he realized the natural order had changed. He didn’t know the power he held over me yet. “Rhys, I’m your brother. There’s no one who knows you better than I do. What is going on?” Rhys bit his lower lip. He was breaking. “Tell me!” “There’s something going on in our dorm,” he said breathlessly. “What’s going on in your dorm, Rhys?” “I don’t know,” he said, eyes wide. Words now flew from his mouth like bats at sunset. “It’s like we’re all superhuman or something. Well not everyone, only the people that work out. Kevin and I are the most dramatic examples but we work out all the time and eat like gorillas. But there are other growers too. Cody is a nerd and a half; looks like Andy Dick’s eighteen year old clone. He started the semester bony but jogs all the time. His legs look unreal these days. They’re so shredded every inch of him from ass to ankle is striated as fuck. But his upper body is still a bony skeleton. Dirk, all he does are situps and pushups… the guy has a solid six pack, horseshow triceps, and pecs that belong on a bodybuilder. That’s it, back and legs look like normal. Both those guys have started working out more though. Both are starting to look really good. There’s a dozen others starting to do the same thing. Slowly but surely us nerds are getting bigger. Dude, the girl’s floor is even jacked. For the first time ever, the hottest chicks on campus are in the honors dorms. McKenzie is trying to stop working out because she was suddenly stronger than her boyfriend…and more ripped. I—“ He stopped, breathless after such an avalanche of admission. “Dude, nobody talks about it. It’s the elephant everyone’s ignoring. But people who live there know. No one says anything but one by one people are figuring out that if they workout they’ll get results a thousand times faster than normal. And once they work out; they’re hooked. People who never worked out before are suddenly becoming gym rats. It’s strange. It’s like…” “It’s like what?” I asked, not wanting him to stop. “It’s like we’re addicted to working out,” he said. I looked at him, confused. “No seriously. We’re addicted. It feels so fucking good. Every workout feels like an orgasm. I mean,” his face got red but he was in full disclosure mode. His voice dropped to a whisper even though no one else was there to hear. “I mean, I get a fucking hard on every time I even think about lifting weights. It’s like sex. Dude, it’s better than sex. I can’t explain it.” I let his words wash over me. I involuntarily looked at his crotch. Even though obscured by his gym shorts, there was no hiding the pole that stretched towards his knee. Fuck, I thought. That grew too? My brother noticed my eyes. “I know right?” he said breathlessly. “This thing is easily an inch longer than it used to be.” He changed the subject quickly. “I am no sooner five minutes out of the gym before I can’t wait to go back. And I can’t over train! It took weeks before Kevin and I realized we could work out every day.” I took a deep breath. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re living in some sort of muscle dorm? What’s causing it?” Rhys’s face took on that hard look again. Shit, I thought. There goes anything else he was going to tell me. “I don’t know and I don’t care,” my brother said. He swelled up like a peacock and stepped up to me. I suddenly felt very small. He was only a little wider than me but was covered in muscle the way I was covered in skin. As I said earlier, he wasn’t huge, just jacked. He could put on twenty pounds of fat and still be ripped. I knew by looking at him that every additional pound he gained would make a huge difference in size. He wouldn’t be able to hide behind sweatshirts for long. He managed to look down at me. “That’s why we keep everything quiet, bro. No one needs to be taking this away from us.” His eyes lit on fire. “Not even you.” I cowered, suddenly unable to speak. The tables had inevitably turned. I was now the little brother. Scared or not, though, I was overflowing with excitement. I put my hands up defensively and pushed lightly against his chest to put some distance between us. Fuck, his body was as hard as a granite countertop. “Take it easy, Rhys,” I said calmly. “I’m not telling anyone. I don’t want anyone to find out either.” My brother visibly relaxed but his eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?” I tried to smile. “You planning on going back to school on Friday for the football game on Saturday?” Rhys nodded. “Mom’s not too happy about it but it’s one of the biggest games of the year.” He stopped. “Besides, I want to work out there. I just got home from the gym here in town not thirty minutes ago. It was a good workout but…nothing like on campus. Why?” For being the smart one, it surprised me Rhys needed me to spell this out. “Because I’m coming with you. We’re going to find what’s creating this…muscle dorm. And we’re going to take it to the next level.” CHAPTER 5 The drive back to Rhys’s campus felt far longer than the three hundred miles marked by the odometer. However, unlike the anxiety-ridden trip home two days earlier, this trip was cloaked in exuberant anticipation. Thanksgiving had its interesting moments but was as normal as could be expected. Sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt did a remarkably good job masking Rhys’s newfound definition but one hug from mom spoiled the ruse. Her eyes grew large as they embraced. “My, my,” she said with a smile. “Spending time in the gym after all aren’t we? It’s like your smuggling boulders in there.” There was no such complement when she hugged me; not that I expected it. Other than a few comments here and there, no one made too much of a fuss. I was quite certain the main reason was to spare my feelings. Their eyes said they were curious, especially my dad’s. We made sure to avoid standing next to each other; the inch of extra height on my brother would open up a can of worms neither of us wanted to explore. On Friday, much to my family’s dismay, the two of us got in our respective cars and made our way to his campus. My parents were under the impression I was making the early trip to check out a football game. The real reason, of course, was to discover the cause for my brother’s sudden superpower. Rhys was surprisingly supportive. “Kevin compared me to a glass,” Rhys whispered Thursday night. We sat on the floor with our backs against my bed, both stuffed with food. We were both wearing only boxers which made our sudden differences all the more dramatic. “He said the thirty pounds I’ve gained so far have merely filled up the cup. My frame has absorbed it without really expanding too much.” Rhys paused, his hands fumbling around with the other. The activity made his chest muscles bounce and the striations of his shoulders dance. “He told me that cup’s full now, bro. I won’t be able to hide behind oversized t-shirts much longer. Every pound I gain from here on out is going to be completely evident.” He sighed but his eyes glistened. “And I can’t wait. We have GOT to get you on this train.” I told him I couldn’t agree more. Just sitting next to him made my gut ache to be like that. I looked like a deflated version of him at this point. Hell, even his jaw line was harder and face more angular. “I hope we find something,” I whispered. “Me too,” Rhys said ominously. “Because regardless, I’m going to keep at this with everything I’ve got.” My brother’s blinker shook me from my daydream. We were there. Fifteen minutes later, we were parked and making our way to Powers Hall or, as my brother and I had started calling it, the Muscle Dorm. It was a non-descript two story building nestled among three larger four story dormitories. The four buildings made a square and contained a pool and green in the middle. “The building belonged to the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences until last year, when a fire swept through it. The administration constructed a new building on the other side of campus and intended to demolish this one. Apparently a booster (Mr. Powers I guess) was upset and spent a fortune refurbishing the damn thing. Since it was so close to the rest of the freshmen dorms, I guess it made sense to put the honors nerds in here.” Rhys chuckled as they walked up to the obvious 1960’s era building. “Pretty shitty building to spend millions of dollars on if you ask me.” I remained silent as he swept a card against the reader on the wall and opened the door. The building, like the campus, was swarming with people. It wasn’t like standing in the pump room of a bodybuilding competition, but there weren’t too many out of shape people perusing the halls. The first floor was the girl’s floor and we made our way down the hall to the stairwell on the other side. “I want to introduce you to some people.” The weather was cooling a bit and the coeds were dressed a little more conservatively than when I was last here in August. That said, midriffs often revealed hard ab lines and shorts showed off legs of a volleyball player more often than not. They weren’t shy about staring at me or my brother and many did so openly. More than a few were actually buff enough to look ready to kick my ass. My brother stopped in front of one such girl. “Hey McKenzie,” he said to a tall girl with her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Hey stud,” she said with a dimpled smile. She was perhaps 5’10 and was built like a female gymnast. Considering most gymnasts barely broke five feet, she was packing quite a lot of mass. Her eyes turned to me. “This must be your brother.” Her eyes glistened. “I thought you said we wouldn’t be able to tell you apart,” she said. Rhys laughed nervously and I forced a smile as well. “Chad still telling you to stop working out so much?” my brother asked in an effort to change the subject. McKenzie snorted. “I broke up with that wuss last Tuesday,” she said, betraying no remorse. She eyed my brother playfully and ran a finger down his chest. “Apparently I need to find someone who can handle me.” My brother looked used to these kinds of flirtations and smiled right back. “Well, maybe Ryan can take a shot first. If he’s impressed then I might consider it.” McKenzie feigned insult and punched my brother in the arm. For good measure, she turned to me and did the same. THE SHIT HURT. It took all my concentration to act as if the attack didn’t faze me. She looked partially convinced. “Hey, is Nadia here?” Rhys asked. “Yeah, but she’s at the gym,” the girl with the wicked left hook answered. “Now there’s a girl who needs to stop working out.” McKenzie gave one more smile to my brother and me before excusing herself. “See you at the party after the game tomorrow,” she said as she entered the girl’s bathroom. It was apparently not a question. “Dude,” my brother said. “If you want a wild ride tonight, she’s your ticket. She’s had a crush on me all year but I’ve got my sights set on her roommate. I figure my twin is a shoe in.” I betrayed myself and began rubbing my bruised arm. Wild ride indeed. “I think her penis is bigger than mine,” I mumbled. My brother scoffed. “Hmm, well you should see her roommate. She makes Lulu Jones look like Ben Stein.” He guided me into the stairwell to the second floor. “The girls have been showing a little gusto lately, I’ll give you that.” “Gusto,” I responded dryly. “I couldn’t tell if they wanted to eat me or sleep with me.” Rhys barked a laugh. “Probably both! Interesting how the tables have turned, huh? Girls deal with that kind of shit all the time…not sure why they complain about it, though.” His smile widened. “How’s your arm?” “Feels like it was on the business end of batting practice.” We topped the stairs and Rhys opened the door. Behind it was a hallway just as crowded as the one below. Tomorrow’s football game was a big deal and a good portion of the student body was in town to see it. It looked like the Muscle Dorm had one hundred percent accountability. Just like the floor below, the occupants represented a wide range of body types but taking them as a group made me feel small even though I was taller than most. Shirts were apparently discouraged as well over half of the hall walked around in skins. It was an interesting study on psychology: the nerdier the face, the less likely a shirt was worn beneath it. It’s not like everyone was a bodybuilder, although there were some who looked well on their way, but the group made six-packs seem a standard anatomic attribute. “What’s up, Rhys,” a voice said from the crowd. To our right stood a resident with sandy brown hair that had cowlicks in all the wrong places. His narrow face had deep-set brown eyes hanging below gnarled eyebrows. An oversized nose more than compensated for a chin that looked like it was in the process of being swallowed. Shirtless, his upper torso was lean and hard. Although his definition was primarily due to his lack of body fat, his body was muscular enough to be at complete odds with his face. “Cody!” my brother said with a genuine smile. “Hey, show my brother your legs.” Without a shred of bashfulness, Cody obliged by raising up the hem of his gym shorts. Beneath them was a pair of legs that a bodybuilder would be proud to hit the stage with. His quads were covered in bumps and bulges that made each as big around as his waist. My jaw dropped. “Not bad huh?” the geek said with a grin. He dropped the hem of his shorts and put his hands on his abs. “I figure it’s time to let my upper body catch up. I going to start going to the gym next week.” Next week? My thoughts screamed. This fucker’s never been to a gym and he has legs like that? My jaw didn’t shut until we were making our way further down the hall. “Fuck, Rhys. His legs were bigger than yours…and he’s half a hand shorter than you.” “I know right?” my brother said as they got to the door to his room. “The guy runs like a man possessed.” We both knew that running didn’t make legs like that but any reality check I was about to offer was stuffed when Rhys opened his door and we both saw Kevin unpacking an overnight bag. Shirtless of course, Kevin was built like a god. The body he wore now put the Kevin I met three months ago in perspective. Although impressive, he’d merely been one of those naturally short and muscular guys that parade around every high school in America. Now he was a genetic anomaly. His abs were a shredded wall of bricks half shadowed by his bulging pectorals. Shoulders bulged like striated cantaloupes over arms that were rippled and veined even when relaxed. The mere act of bending his arm made his bicep peak. His traps almost pushed his head forward and his back looked like a mountain range. “Wassup, Rhys!” he said with genuine happiness. They hugged. “Ryan!” he said when the hug was over and walked over to me to give me one too. It was like being on the receiving end of an avalanche. “Long time no see buddy!” “Yeah, Kevin. Dude you look great,” I couldn’t help but say. Kevin’s smile grew wider. “I know. I feel incredible.” He slapped my shoulder. It didn’t hurt but it was probably because it was still numb. “We need to get you on the training train, buddy.” I mumbled that I’d like that and we continued small talk for a while. My mind was focused on one thing right then, however. Kevin was no more than 5’8 last time we met. Now he stood an easy 5’10. And he looked bigger by proportion. He must have gained forty pounds in twelve weeks. We went out for dinner but came back early to get to sleep. It was completely opposite what most of the campus was up to. Maybe it was because after all was said and done, this was the honors dorm…or maybe it was because they all wanted to wake up early and go to the gym the next day. Whatever the reason, most of the dorm was asleep by midnight. The gym’s parking lot was almost empty early the next morning. Most of the student body on campus was still sleeping or hung-over from the night before. Kevin, wearing a “shirt” with arm holes that went all the way down to the waist, took a prime parking spot. I was sitting in the back seat and found myself mesmerized the whole drive by the way his lats, obliques, and abs danced with each other as he moved. It was a shame to get out of the car. The only word to describe Rhys and Kevin’s attitude was giddy. They looked like kids waiting for the ice cream truck to turn onto their street. I felt no such magic and wondered if whatever was affecting them took time to sink in. Rhys wore a sleeveless shirt as well, but with a little more modesty. He was only showing off his bulging shoulders and ripped arms. I looked less his twin and more his little brother. The bored attendant waved at Kevin and Rhys as we walked in, apparently familiar with them and disinterested in me. The gym itself was apparently a 150,000 square foot building with twenty thousand of them making up the weight room alone. The space more than absorbed the ten or so others working out at six am and made us feel like we owned the place. Most of the others were familiar faces from the second floor of the dorm. We each went to a rack for warm up squats. I put the 45 pound bar on my back and started performing rapid squats just to get the blood pumping. The first squat sent a feathered tingle through my thighs that drifted up my spine like massaging fingers. The second rep sent a shot that was more intense. The third even more. After a few more reps, that tingle had turned into a jolt that rushed right into my soul. My heart beat quickened and my stomach started to pulse with excitement. My thighs and butt felt hotter with each contraction. The squeeze was incredible. It was like I was squeezing out pure power that flooded the rest of my body. After about fifty warm-up reps, I forced myself to stop. Whatever workout Kevin and Rhys had in mind would have to wait. I wanted to feel more weight now. I put a forty five pound plate on each side and immediately started squatting again. The increased resistance only magnified that intense feeling. What initially felt like the tingle that swept across your skin when someone massaged your neck now felt like a body-wide orgasm. My dick was swelled to full throttle and my legs pumped as if being inflated. I let out a scream as I forced one final rep and I nearly ejaculated as I put the bar back on the rack. “Holy fucking shit,” I whispered through gasping pants. I heard giggling behind me and turned. Kevin and Rhys were standing with their arms crossed and smirks on their face. “I told ya, bro,” Rhys said through a shit-eating smile. “It’s like a drug.” “I’ll say,” I said as I put an extra fifty pounds on the bar. Kevin advised me to wait at least ninety seconds between sets. “It’s hard as shit to wait,” he said knowingly. “Your brain is telling you attack right away. But trust me; your body can still only do so much. You know how they say it’s all about mind over matter? Well, sometimes matter needs a say in the argument too.” They left me alone after that, saying I could join in on their workout whenever I wanted. We all knew I was on independent ops for now, though. I had to explore this feeling. I started squatting my usual 185 lbs and the energy surge in my body swelled to new heights. I felt like I would explode if I didn’t jump up and down; it was a challenge to contain my efforts into a legitimate rep. My dick continued to throb as if an invisible succubus was having her way with it. I didn’t count how many reps I did but was a hair away from collapse before I had to re-rack. I choked down air and made an impulsive sprint to the hallway and its accompanying bathroom. My legs felt twice their normal size as I made my way into the restroom and to the first available stall. I dropped my pants and grabbed by dick. I was so close to eruption that it took less than five seconds to hit full orgasm and release what felt like a gallon into the awaiting toilet. I gave myself a breather, a little embarrassed at the feeling that I’d just had the best sex in my life. Then I cleaned up a bit and hit the weight room again. Any thought that relieving that sexual energy would make things go more smoothly was soon squashed as, three sets later, I again needed to make another trip to the restroom. I can’t say I was complaining. I could have spent the rest of my life in that gym and it would have died a happy man. My legs felt incredible. They were hard as rocks and swollen to the point of breaking through my skin. I could actually feel my ass cheeks bounce with each step. It was exhilarating. I moved on to chest once my legs felt ready to tear apart. It was actually an effort to walk. I put a forty-five on each side of the bar and began a warm up set. Although a little muted when compared to the rush with my legs, I again felt that rush of sexual energy pulse through my body like liquid fire. My pecs roared with each press of the bar. I put another fifty pounds on and started another set. After another trip to the bathroom, I hit a new personal best by benching 245 eight times. After a few more sets I moved on to bicep curls. I wanted to make sure every muscle felt this energy. Untold minutes later, I was working out my back and was on pull-up number twenty five. I jerked myself up for number twenty six. My lats and biceps were on fire and my dick felt like it was going to rip through my shorts. My heart raced as if I were sprinting for my life. The air itself seemed to crackle with energy. One more rep, I thought for the tenth time. I pulled myself up and the roar of euphoria made my brain boil. Then it happened. I fucking came in my pants. “Oh fuck,” I said as I dropped from the bar. Without thinking I raced to the bathroom and began a vain effort to clean up the inside of my boxers. Luckily, nothing bled through to the shorts so after disposing my soiled underwear in a trashcan, I left the bathroom swinging free as a bird. I stopped short when I realized Kevin and Rhys stood right outside the bathroom, knowing smiles plastered on their face. I didn’t know what to say but my face must have filled them in on everything. Rhys laughed. “That’s what you get for doing a full body workout,” he said as if I was supposed to know better. “We try to limit ourselves to one body part a day. It’s easier to…manage yourself that way.” I sighed but inside my body still felt like the center of the sun. Maybe if I ran around the building a few times. I said as much but my brother put a calming hand on my shoulder. “What you need to do now is eat. Your body is probably torn to shreds right now.” “I feel fine,” I said as we made our way out of the gym. “Besides, we were only in there for a half hour or something.” Rhys and Kevin looked at each other and grinned. “Dude,” Kevin said. “It’s been two hours.” I didn’t believe them until I looked at a passing clock and was shocked to see it to be true. Suddenly my stomach grumbled angrily and in a flash hunger consumed every recess of my senses. That raw energy was still there, though, pulsing like a second heart in the back of my brain. I ate three full sized breakfasts at one of the campus cafeterias. Thank god it was buffet style. “We must be eating over five thousand calories a day,” Rhys said between mouthfuls. “If it weren’t for these cafeterias we’d be broke by now. “Cheers to academic scholarships!” He and Kevin clinked the back of their forks as if toasting. My body still held the incredible pump from earlier. I prayed it would never go away. My body felt hard as a rock and able to tear down a mountain. Rhys and Kevin had apparently focused on arms today and it showed. Both looked like their arms were a solid two inches bigger. My brother’s usual ripped seventeen inchers were a ballooned nineteen. Although not as defined at the moment, there was a cable-like purple vein that ran like a drunken highway from top of shoulder and into the inside of his elbow. Kevin’s arms looked over twenty inches of boulder shaped muscle. Somehow they still held their original definition even with their gorged size. His shoulders were the size of cantaloupes. He looked wider than this morning; the sides of his chest were bulging from the hem of his joke of a shirt and his lats flared as if he wore a shield on his back. “How is this happening?” I asked. They reacted as if I had thrown my drink in their face. “Who cares, man?” Kevin said, face serious. “Why question it?” I tried to scream that I couldn’t bring this magic home with me unless I could answer that question…but I remained silent. Their look reminded me of a mother wolf guarding her cubs. All kinship be damned, they would protect their baby. Maybe it was a drug. The sun slowly climbed to its peak and the campus started to awaken and prepare itself for the Saturday religious rite known across the southern United States as college football. Cars made themselves at home on any surface flat enough to park. Open container laws were ignored and soon a buzzed haze settled over everyone eighteen to eighty. I joined in on the festivities haphazardly and breathed a sigh of relief when, at about four that afternoon, everyone filed down the street towards the game. Within minutes, the once packed campus felt like a ghost town save for the distant screams of a hundred thousand people roaring unison from the stadium. Now was my chance. I’d been thinking about it all day, wondering where the source of all this...magic was. I had the whole story in my head. After a few pointed questions given to the locals, I’d discovered the building now functioning as the honors dorm was actually part of the science department before a fire swept through its guts. Someone must have been concocting a crazy experiment between those walls. That experiment probably even started the fire. Or maybe the experiment had been going on for years and the waste was disposed unethically within the building. That waste had accumulated somewhere in the building and the fire had released it from whatever container it was in. It had affected me in less than a day of occupancy. As far as I could tell, there were only two ways the building could have delivered such a dose: via the ventilation or the water supply. Unfortunately, my overactive imagination was apparently much more skilled than my ability to plan. I had no idea where to start. I looked around the building at all the pipes going into it, wondering what would signify that something usual was coursing through its veins. I climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and looked at the A/C units there. They looked like nothing more than fans to me; there definitely wasn’t any glowing goo. I shocked myself by kicking in an old door at the base of the stairs that appeared to be the access a basement. That really got my heart pumping. I imagined myself being the first person down there since the mysterious fire and finding black ooze seeping from the ground. One sniff of this ooze would shoot give me in one moment the size and strength it took my brother to acquire in three months. I’d take a fucking bath in the shit and emerge from the basement big enough to bend Kevin in half. I’d already convinced myself that was exactly what would happen when I broke my way through the door. That increasingly familiar energetic exhilaration accompanying the physical exertion of breaking the door was crushed by the realization it only led to a closet full of cleaning supplies. “Fuck,” I said aloud. “Fuck is right,” said a voice behind me. I turned to see a distinguished looking man dressed in a janitor’s onesie. “Fuck,” I said again. The man groaned and made his way down the stairs. He was an intimidating figure up close. Looking about forty, he was probably 6’3 and 240 pounds of beef. His sharp eyes looked ready to bore through me. “I didn’t mean to,” I said nervously. “Drunken assholes and their drunken shenanigans,” he said as he inspected the broken hinge where the padlock once hung. I hadn’t had a drop all day but wasn’t about to tell him that. Before he had a chance to scold me or worse, I made a quick apology and raced away. The janitor didn’t follow. Fuck, this building was even turning the janitors into beasts. I spent the next three hours simultaneously trying to find this mysterious source of muscle juice and avoiding the linebacker-sized janitor. The latter effort was successful…the former was a complete failure. When Rhys and Kevin came back from the game, they found me lying on Rhys bed staring blindly at the ceiling. “Dude, you missed a hell of a game,” Rhys said as he stripped his shirt off. I turned and stared at his shredded abs and bouncing pecs as he took off his pants and grabbed a towel. I groaned. My brother’s flaccid dick was bigger than mine when erect. A quick glance at Kevin proved a similar verdict. My god, the guy was huge in every way imaginable. “What’s wrong, bro?” Rhys asked as he grabbed his toiletries. “Nothing,” I said stoically as my eyes returned to the ceiling. My brother’s willful ignorance of the reason I was here was starting to piss me off. There was nothing I could do about it though “I wanna get drunk tonight.” Rhys smiled. “Done.” An hour later and I was a six pack down and flying high. We were at a packed club across from campus. Kevin was off somewhere while my brother and I entertained McKenzie and her Amazonian roommate, Nadia. My brother was on her like a hound on a fox. Nadia was about six feet tall and was to me, a man with a hot face and breasts. She was completely jacked and had no qualms showing it. McKenzie had apparently “settled” for me and was making it no secret she was ready for me to take her home. One hour and another few beers later, my brother and I were with our two coeds in their room. It was dark but the sounds of sex flooded the room as my brother and tried to outdo the other. Apparently the miracle drug smuggled through the ether of this dorm thought sex was a good exercise too. I felt my body swell, every muscle pumped like never before. Four hours and six condoms later, we finally said our goodbyes to the ladies on the first floor. Brotherly competition gave way to raw sex. McKenzie was stronger than me, there was no doubt I would be hurting tomorrow. I passed out happy, but woke up knowing I’d be leaving without the answer I was searching for. We worked out again; this time I was more successful containing myself. By noon, I was back in my car being sent off by my jacked brother and his even more jacked roommate. I watched them fade away in my rearview mirror and couldn’t help but wonder how massive Rhys would be when I saw him again. CHAPTER 6 Life continued after my unsuccessful attempt to piece together the mystery at Powers Hall. The drive home that day saw my insane pump finally die off and be replaced with the worst body pain I’d ever experienced. It was pretty disheartening to feel my tight clothes loosen up. When I got home, however, I was excited to see I’d gained two pounds over the break. While that wasn’t too unusual considerring Thanksgiving has a habit of adding a few pounds to the average American waistline, the fact that I looked more defined than ever let me know just how effective those workouts had been. Even Monday’s workout was exceptional, if not nearly as sexually euphoric as the ones on my brother’s campus. Terry was impressed as well and seemed to give my muscle dorm theory a little more credit. “So you find something out?” he asked intently after we finished Mondays workout. I shook my head and told him he was right; I was just being paranoid. I didn’t tell him my brother was twenty five pounds and one inch bigger than me now. I figured it was best to keep the truth to myself for the time being. Although Terry had shown nothing but incredulity since I first brought the matter up, he was visibly disappointed that I had nothing to report. His words tried to keep up the solid front, though. “What did I tell ya, man?” he asked, patting me on the back. “There’s no secret to success other than lifting, sleeping, and eating. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s working. You’re looking pretty good.” I grinned a bit. I was now 178 lbs, still lean for 6’2 but better than August. “Now if I could only get you to eat more, you’d be packing the weight on even faster,” Terry said. I shrugged. “I feel like I’m eating all the time as it is. Besides, I don’t want to get…well…” Terry grinned. “What? Fat like me?” I sighed and nodded. Terry was a cut muscle monster when I first started working out with him. Bulking for the time being, he was easily gaining as much weight per week as my brother. The difference was that half of Terry’s weight gain was in fat and my brother’s was all muscle. Terry shrugged back, unhurt. “Hey man, welcome to the lifestyle of a bodybuilder. By the time I cut down next spring, I’ll have another fifteen pounds of muscle on my frame.” Although too vain to truly bulk, Terry said that I’d make steady gains anyway just because I was a beginner. Regardless, I started the last three weeks of the semester eager to see what long term affects those two nights in the muscle dorm had given me. Unfortunately, by Wednesday, any residual euphoric effects were gone. My ability to train every day disappeared too; by Thursday I had to cut back to every other day to avoid overtraining. I didn’t receive any butt dials during those final weeks of the fall semester but I DID find out why Rhys’s Facebook page was never updated. “Dude, no one uses Facebook anymore,” he said after I casually asked about it. “It’s all about Instagram and Twitter now.” I rolled my eyes. Five minutes on Instagram and I saw my brother’s transformation in full chronological resolution. He had dozens of pictures spanning all the way back to the beginning of the semester. The first few showed off the brother I knew from the summer: Skinny arms, narrow shoulders, model face. However, from drunken shots at a bar to days at the pool to pickup games of football I watched as, picture-by-picture, my brother’s shoulders grew wider, arms grew harder, and body grew larger. At week two, a vein was visibly crawling down his arm. Week four, his shirts were all too tight. Week five, I could see his traps pulling at his collar. Week seven, he was obviously taller. By the last picture, he was the ripped stud I’d met over Thanksgiving. A little math proved my brother was gaining about 2.5 pounds per week. Would he continue to grow at the same rate? Kevin was adding well over 3. My breath shuddered at the thought of him getting any bigger. There wasn’t much more room on his frame. I chuckled. No problem. He apparently can just make his frame bigger. If there was one thing I had on Kevin, it was an extra six..shit…four inches of height. That margin was obviously shrinking. Kevin’s genetics called for a naturally short yet wide, muscular frame. It was rare indeed for those proportions to reach the six foot mark…and yet it was almost as if he were growing wider faster than he was growing taller. Whew…what a lucky ass. I wasn’t daunted; I was still hitting the gym as hard as I could and eating so much I was starting to feel guilty of gluttony. In the three final weeks of the semester, I gained five pounds…although I admit I lost some of that definition I’d gained those magical two days in my brother’s dorm. I had sporadic calls with my brother. They weren’t so cryptic now that his secret was out. I also tried (with only partial success) to be a little more cordial. It’s not like there was anything he could do for me. That said, I couldn’t help but ask about how life was going in the muscle dorm. As long as I didn’t start trying to question the cause, he was more than willing to discuss it. A couple of days before finals week ended, we were talking about winter break plans when I asked him. “Dude, I benched four hundred pounds for reps yesterday,” he said, excitedly. There was no doubt his voice was deeper than mine now. “And Kevin weighs 240 now. Can you believe it? Fifty five pounds in four months!” “What are you weighing these days?” I asked. He paused, feeling where I was taking this conversation. “210,” he said finally. Can you believe it? I thought sarcastically. Forty pounds in four months! “You any taller?” I asked bluntly. Another pause. “I think so,” he said briskly. “But not by much. We can still get away with it.” You can still get away with it, I thought with a gallon of grit. I had nothing to get away with. “For how long, Rhys?” I asked simply. “I don’t care anymore, Rhys,” he returned just as simply. “Whatever happens, happens.” My head physically pulled away from the phone as if bitten by it. Neither of us spoke while the air cleared, but my brother finally broke the silence. “Look Ryan. Believe me, I wish you could experience this too. I just don’t know how that can happen and I can’t act like I feel guilty about this…I wish you could be happy for me.” I thought for a moment and for the first time stepped out of my own jealousy. Truth was…”I am happy for you, bro,” I said finally. “I really am. I just wish I was there with ya.” “I know. Me too,” he said truthfully. Then he lowered his voice as if telling a secret. “I’ve been searching, you know. For something that’s causing this.” My interest peaked. “Really? And?” His voice became dejected. “I haven’t found shit,” he said bluntly. “It’s getting kind of strange, bro. People around campus are starting to talk. At first it was just a few of us working out, but now pretty much everyone who lives in this dorm is in the gym every day. All the geeks are starting to look like little Schwarzeneggers. Someone apparently shacked up here for a night or two and realized their workouts were insane the next day. People are still putting two and two together but rumors are starting to fly around. Dudes are trying to hook up with girls downstairs just so they can see what the buzz is all about. Thank god the chicks down there are wise to it. Most are only dating guys on this floor anyway. We’re the only ones that can keep up with their sex drive. You know as well as I that there can be some…side effects. Ryan, this girl at a club last night came up to Kevin and me and asked me straight up what was going on at Powers Hall. We lied and said we didn’t even live there. She said the only people who looked like us came from there. We can only deflect so many times. Eventually it’s going to come to a head and the wrong people are going to start asking questions.” “Well at least you know you didn’t actually do anything. What’s the worst that can happen?” I was answered by silence, as if Rhys had a dozen scenarios in his head that could detail exactly how bad it could be. “Well,” I continued sarcastically. “You could always stop working out.” Rhys laughed at the comment we both knew was hilarious. “Fat chance,” he said, voice filled with a little more mirth. “Hey, I’ll see ya in a couple days. I’ll keep looking,” he said. “I promise.” “Thanks bro,” I said in reply. Two days later, I saw exactly what those extra ten pounds looked like. Apparently it was enough weight to take my brother from fit to jacked in three weeks. The good thing was that 6’3 210 was still somewhat normal sized. It wasn’t until he took his shirt off that you saw the freak he’d become. Kevin’s earlier warning was right though; Rhys was definitely starting to fill out. Fortunately, the winter coolness allowed for some pretty thick garments to hide under…but the new Rhys wasn’t all that keen to hide behind anything. As we hung out with friends from high school, the conversation always meandered to Rhys newfound body. He was constantly taking off his jacket and flashing a few gun shots. His softball sized biceps made mine look like wet noodles. The two of us had always been popular solely because of our face, now my brother brought an even more impressive body to the table and it shot him to celebrity status. The twelve pound I’d gained weren’t even noticed. Rhys additional poundage didn’t raise my parents’ eyebrows much, but my brother and I still made sure to avoid standing too close to each other. It may have been a needless paranoia but Rhys wasn’t ready for parental concern. I’ll admit part of me wanted to make our new differences as obvious as possible, just to vindictively put my brother in a corner. Truth was, my brother never lorded anything over me and if anyone was souring our relationship, it was me. If I took this experience away from him, he’d never forgive me. I did ask him how long he expected to keep up this charade. “I’m heading to the Bahamas for Spring Break and the Powers Hall is only available to freshmen. When mom and dad see me this summer, what can they do at that point?” Rhys voice dripped with inevitability. He knew he wouldn’t be able to explain the beast he would become by May to our parents. But what was done would be done by then, right? I could only shrug. If I had just one more weekend to investigate that dorm...Maybe there was something in the paint? The thought of licking the walls made me laugh a little. I knew it wasn’t beneath me though. Winter break came and went, and not a moment too soon for my brother. We went to the gym together while he was in town and although he completely dominated any of my lifts, he acted as if he were sleepwalking through them. “It’s not like I’m lifting any less than I was on campus. It just doesn’t feel as good. My body feels…normal. I barely feel pumped.” “Welcome to the real world, bro,” I said without sympathy. I managed to score a small victory during the break when I gained three pounds to his zero. His 210 versus my 185 notwithstanding, I was the winner on a neutral playing field. Too bad the playing field was in no way neutral in the long run. Come January, my brother and I parted ways for the third time: he to a real world of make-believe and me to the real world of…reality. It took months but I was finally getting used to being the twin needing to catch up. Bodybuilding is a hard lifestyle but I did the best I could to live it. My brother’s Instagram account proved to be a very real motivational tool. As January pushed into February and on into March, I watched my brother swell from a jacked and lean to a true bodybuilder and giant among men. It sounds vain to say, technically being his identical twin, but Rhys was probably the best looking specimen of humanity I’d ever seen. Even when he took pictures with his muscle buddies he was starting to stand out. Kevin was growing too. His boyish face never faded as his body became one of a professional bodybuilder. In the ten weeks between winter break and spring break, I gained another ten pounds and was now at 190. I was finally able to call myself somewhat muscular. My six pack had practically disappeared but you couldn’t tell what my abs looked like with a shirt on. “Four fifty, bro,” Rhys said about his bench press in late February. “For eight reps! That’s the fucking shit. Dude, I crushed a pencil between my pecs just by flexing ‘em. I want to find a shelled pecan and see if I can crush it. Could you see me doing that for a girl on the beach? ‘Here, let me help you with that.’ Crrrunch! Ah, that would be fucking epic.” Good luck finding a girl eating shelled pecans on the beach, I wanted to say. “Yean, epic,” I said instead. “I’ll say,” he said. “Anyway, spring break is in two weeks so I want to get as huge as I can before we head out to Nassau. Are you sure you don’t want to come? We’d love to have you there.” “I’ll think about it,” I said honestly. I did want to hang out with my brother but wasn’t all that excited to share a beach with him for a whole week…especially if I had to sit through him trying to break things between his tits. “Yeah, well I’m 230 now. I’m hoping to get up to 235 by spring break. Being this tall sure has a way of swallowing up muscle. Besides, standing next to Kevin makes me look like a fucking wimp. He’s planning to enter an NPC competition this summer.” “Is that a fact,” I said. I don’t know why I was surprised but my jaw dropped at hearing 230. My brother was starting to get the hint. “K, well, I’ll talk to ya later buddy. Let me know what you decide about spring break.” “No problem,” I said. A few minutes later, I found myself looking at a recently added forth team picture of the “Fitz Mafia.” This one was similar to the first two: two rows of people with the wheelchair bound Fitz in the center. Kevin held his usual spot just behind the elderly man, shirtless as always. His form was incredible. I scrolled between it and the earlier pictures, amazed at Kevin’s unnatural transformation. He had to be over six feet and 270 pounds of shredded, vascular muscle. Whatever competition he planned to enter that summer he’d win hands down. Shit, by summer he could win the Olympia. My brother wasn’t far behind. He was turning into a giant himself. He stood in the back row, as usual, but was now tall enough…and wide enough…to stand head and shoulders above the heads in front. He’d been spending time at the pool: his skin was a golden bronze. His neck was every bit as wide as his head and spread out into two bulging lats which landed into the striated explosion that were his shoulders. The two people in front of him obscured the rest of his torso, but there was no doubt they were hiding a behemoth behind them. A few of the others in the group were showing off impressive gains as well. The rest looked pretty close to their size in the other three pictures. Maybe Dr. Benjamin Fitz really didn’t have anything to do with this…else wouldn’t everyone in the picture be the size of my brother and his dorm friends? Still, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling I was missing something. On a whim I pulled up the partial abstract for the paper Fitz had co-authored about the muscle degeneration therapy. I hadn’t thought about it since I first discovered it last fall. Reading it again reminded me why I was so sure the old man knew something. “A Study of the Effects of Gene ACTN3 Infusion on Laboratory Mice.” A study by Dr. Benjamin Fitz and a Richard Powers, PhD 5 September 2005 This study is a follow-up to the “mighty mice” experiment conducted at John Hopkins University in 1997. In order to be a suitable treatment for degenerative diseases such as muscular dystrophy, human myostatin suppression therapy must be accompanied by an associated cell wall booster which protects skeletal muscle membrane during extreme hypertrophy. The negative effects associated with such a breakdown can be shown in the now famous Hayden Smith case. What follows is a comprehensive examination of the gene ACTN3 and its associated affects on laboratory specimens. Where most myostatin suppressed mice experience severe structural degeneration accompanied by the increase in muscle volume, the ACTN3 mice showed none of these adverse affects. In fact, cardiovascular health and pulmonary activity was seen to improve… I must have read that shitty partial paragraph a dozen times before leaning back in my chair, frustrated and tired. It was too much to be a coincidence. Dr Fitz and his asshole co-author Dr Powers must up to something. A thunderclap went off in my head. Dr Powers…Powers Hall…another coincidence? My gut started to tingle. Maybe Dr. Fitz was a goofy old man but was this Dr Richard Powers? By now I was an expert internet stalker. A Google search revealed too many “Richard Powers” to count. Even adding the honorific “PhD” or “Doctor” didn’t narrow the group down to a manageable level. I had to get more creative. Keywords like my brother’s university, the state, even the title of the paper did nothing. Finally, I looked at the university website on the off chance there was an article about the dedication of the new dorm. I finally struck gold. Turns out there was a whole profile dedicated to each building on campus. There in clear letters was the profile for the Richard G. Powers Honors Dormitory. The first name was a match. There had to be a connection. Two clicks later, I was staring at a short blurb about the dedication from July of last year. The words pretty much confirmed what the students had told me: Dr. Richard Powers, alumnus, booster, and business man, performs the ceremonial ribbon cutting with Dr Channing Ross, Dean of Student Life. The photograph was grainy but there was something familiar about the broad-shouldered graying man with the oversized scissors. I refined my search and finally ended up with a picture of the mysterious scientist from the university’s booster association. He was a youngish middle aged man with hard eyes and a distinguished face. I couldn’t place him but couldn’t stop feeling I’d seen him somewhere before. I spent another hour searching but by all accounts this alumnus, booster, and business man didn’t exist beyond a few pictures. But I knew that damn face. I searched every recess of my conscious mind but, like that word at the tip of your tongue, recognition seemed to squirm further from my grasp with each attempt to grab it. I went to bed that night excited but anxious. I felt so close to a breakthrough but had nothing to prove that I was any closer than I was four months earlier. Sleep took its sweet time gracing me with its presence and, even then, my dreams were just as restless. I saw myself walking down a sandy Bahamian beach during spring break, looking better than I had ever in my life. Everyone stared at me as my lean but taut body glistened in the afternoon sun. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes shifted and I could feel their attention on me melt away. A shadow drifted over my form and I turned to see my brother, nearly seven feet tall and hundreds of pounds heavier, sauntering down the beach. I suddenly wasn’t even there…literally. My brother didn’t even see me because I was too small. I had to scurry out of the way to keep from getting bulldozed over. He walked by without a second thought and carried the public’s eyes in his wake. The dream flashed and I was walking through the second floor hallway of the honor’s dorm. The guys were all shirtless and the girls wore little more than bras and panties. I was the shortest guy there and easily the skinniest. Guys who would have thanked the stars to hang out with the likes of me six months ago now looked at me as if thinking about throwing me out. Bookworms from the neck up were all jocks from the neck down. The women were all at least 5’10” and wore super model faces and fitness model bodies. I didn’t see Kevin or my brother but the other faces were all familiar and sitting atop forms much harder and heavier than back in November. I strolled through this alternate universe, feeling smaller and smaller in a world where everyone was a giant, even the fucking— --My eyes shot open and I sat up in bed as if hit with a bolt of electricity. The sharp edges of those dreams immediately began to smudge, but one image remained razor sharp. It was of Dr. Powers, broad shouldered, distinguished, and looking every bit important alumnus, scientist, and businessman. I knew the face but the man I’d seen it on had been none of those things. Three months earlier, I left my brother’s campus a failure. I’d searched every nook and cranny of that two story dormitory and left no stone unturned. I didn’t let even a locked door stand in my way. Yet my search had been halted in a way I didn’t even recognize at the time. After exhausting every other possibility, at a time I was so sure success was just beyond a locked door, I was foiled by a man with a face that didn’t belong on the uniform of a serviceman. Dr. Powers was the fucking janitor and he was changing my brother. CHAPTER 7 “Really?” my brother asked, his voice wary. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” “I’m positive,” I replied. “And there’s no risk for you. All I need is your student ID.” “I know,” Rhys said. “It’s just…I mean, are you sure you don’t want to go to the Bahamas with us? The tickets are super cheap.” “This is what I want to do,” I said with avid conviction. “Well,” he said. “If that’s what you want. I guess I can understand why you’d spend spring break here. No small part of me wants to skip the beach and just hit the gym all week. But, ya know, sometimes you just need a life.” He paused. “Fine. We’re leaving at four on Friday. Can you get here earlier than that?” My stomach leaped into my thought. YES!!! I wanted to scream. “I sure can,” I managed to reply. “Great. See you then.” The phone went dead and I practically leaped for joy. For one whole week I’d have the entire gym, the entire campus, and the entire muscle dorm to myself. I’d find the masquerading scientist and see exactly what he was up to. It would be the best spring break ever…at least, that’s what my internal cheerleader was telling me. That voice had gotten my hopes up before and its inaccuracies had given rise to an internal curmudgeon that now warned against such idealistic expectations. It didn’t matter. At worst, I’d have a week of the best workouts in my life. If I could gain a few pounds and get my six pack back I’d be more than satisfied. I’d gained another five pounds in the weeks since Christmas, putting me at 190. I was proud of gaining twenty pounds in seven months, even if some of it was fat. But my brother had gained over sixty in the same amount of time. I couldn’t wait to get started. I was tempted to get in my car right then and arrive a day early but I decided to wait. I would later regret that decision since I couldn’t concentrate on anything Friday. The second my class ended, I hit the road. By mid-afternoon, I was calling my brother to let me up to his room. I hardly recognized the man that opened the door to the second floor bedroom. Rhys was wearing a white and green sleeveless shirt that vibrantly contrasted his tanned skin. His 6’4+ frame wore its 240 pounds of cut beef like Roman armor. He smiled, having to look down at me but trying not to make it obvious. “Long time, no see, bro,” he said and gave me a hug that felt like a controlled avalanche. Kevin stood just behind him and made Rhys look somewhat skinny by comparison. He and I were eye-to-eye now but he was half again as wide. I’d never seen a body like his, anywhere. He somehow held the size of a Mr. Olympia without looking bloated or swollen. It was hard not to stare. Two women were also in the room. I recognized Nadia from Thanksgiving. About six feet tall, her form was somewhere between fitness model and bodybuilder. The other girl was presumably Kevin’s interest, a surprisingly petite girl considering the mountain of a man she had to deal with. The pleasantries were quick as they had a few hundred miles to drive before nightfall. “Here’s my student ID. That’ll get you into the gym and has a meal plan account at any of the cafeterias,” My brother handed two cards to me. “The other card will to get into the dorm.” I took both greedily. “By the way,” he added. “McKenzie is staying in town to work on a project or something. I’m sure she’d like some company.” I grinned politely. Her roommate, Nadia, had a face that screamed I wasn’t enough of a man for her more-than-hot roommate. “Have a great week, buddy,” Kevin bellowed with a newly wrought baritone yet with that same boyish grin. He gave me a pat on the back as he and my brother left me alone in their magical dorm. My stomach leapt as I pulled my gym gear out of my bag. Best case scenario, I’d find the mystical spring I was looking for. Worst case, I’d be able to have ten or so of the best workouts in my life. Two days over Thanksgiving had resulted in ten pounds. Could ten days give me ten pounds? The thought of hitting 200 made giving up my spring break seem worth it. Before I hit the gym I made my rounds through the dorm, trying to absorb whatever drug was hiding the building. I drank from the water fountains, washed my hands in the sinks, stood under A/C vents, and I even licked a wall…yeah, there’s a definite argument for OCD here but the stakes were high enough to let hygiene suffer a bit. After feeling like I experienced most of the dorms amenities, I ran off to the gym. Fifteen minutes later I was already leaving it. It’s not that the workout was bad, but it held none of the vigor and energy I expected. The letdown was enough to make me quit. I went to the nearly empty cafeteria, smiled at the dimpled girl behind the register, and ate a perfectly mundane meal. Then I took a shower and found myself spending the first night in the dorm watching movies. At around eight o’clock, I was trying to decide whether to go to bed or actually finish my workout. I chose the latter and was back in the weight room before 8:15, giving me forty-five minutes to work out before close. The first dumbbell I picked up proved something was up. That familiar tingle skipped down my spine as I started a set of warm-up curls. The feeling grew with each rep and by the time I was done with the first set my body was on fire. I smiled as I looked at my insanely pumped arms. This was going to be fun. * * * A little over an hour later I was back at the dorm, stomach full and body pumped. The gym closed at 9 pm and they had to almost force me out. I couldn’t stop feeling my arms, pumped bigger than I’d ever seen yet still hard as a rock. I’d spent more than a few minutes wondering why my first gym trip didn’t go so well. I ultimately assumed that whatever I was getting from this place must take a few hours to take effect. I was a little disappointed in myself for not being more scientific with my search. I was also well aware that an organized study might have taken my whole week here and had no guarantee of success. Regardless, I went to bed happy. * * * I awoke the next morning expecting my body to be drenched in pain. I slowly got out of bed, waiting for the debilitation to start clawing me with its steel fingers. But the pain never came. In fact, I felt great. I had a sudden urge to make some laps around the campus before breakfast. I got into my gym shorts and dry-fit t-shirt and made my way out of the dorm room. As I turned to head for the stairs, my stomach fluttered at the site of a cleaning cart sitting in front of one of the floor’s two restrooms. Dr. Powers? I crept up to the cart and stuck my ear in the open doorway. I could hear shuffling out of site in the direction of the showers. Good, he was occupied. I kept an ear out for footsteps as I investigated the contents of the cart. A quick perusal revealed only the standard fares of a janitor’s profession: Windex, bleach, water demineralizers, sponges, gloves, brooms, mops. No vial of muscle juice. I’d never considered how difficult it was not knowing what you were looking for. I— Footsteps. Shit. I took a few galloping steps away from the cart before slowing to a normal walking speed. About ten paces behind me I heard shuffling in the cart behind me. There was an awkward pause in the commotion and I could feel eyes creeping across my back as I walked back to the dorm room. My heart raced as I used all my efforts to maintain a normal pace. Just as I rounded the corner to my brother’s room, I looked over my shoulder and saw the familiar broad shouldered man standing next to his cart, staring at me as I opened the door and entered the room. I shut the door behind me, and finally allowed myself to breath. I tried to tell myself that there was nothing unusual about a teenager walking down a dorm hall on a Friday morning. Sure, most of the students would be gone by now but this was the honors dorm. I probably had some robot to build or something. But…why was he staring at me like that? I sat impatiently in my room for a little over an hour before mustering the courage to peak out the door. The cart was gone! I made my way to the bathroom and walked inside. There was no smell of bleach in the air. The mirrors were speckled with water. The floors still somewhat scuffed. There was no indication anyone had been in here to clean. Dr. Powers was either the worst janitor in history or he had an ulterior motive for being in here. I made my way towards the showers, where I heard him working. As in the rest of the room, the area was in no way clean. The excitement in my gut grew as the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. Of all the things I did before my first workout the day before, taking a shower had not been one of them. But I’d taken one afterwards and the second workout had been amazing. I was increasingly confident I’d found the source. With a clarity I’d not felt in months, I gave the shower head a good smack. It changed angle a bit but there was also a faint rattling sound. There was something in the shower head. I held my breath in anxious anticipation as I reached up and slowly twisted the metal shower head off the water pipe. Once off, I looked into the top and saw a familiar looking brown pellet sitting inside. I laughed to myself. “Water demineralizers, my ass,” I said as I upended the shower head and let the pellet fall into my hand. It was about the size and shape of the hotdog chunks you find in spaghettios. I smiled and reconnected the shower head. Ten minutes later I was sitting in my room with eight pellets, one for each of the shower heads on the men’s floor. They looked and felt like little chunks of granite. I’d tried to flake a chunk off with my nail but had only succeeded in scratching the nail. I put one of the pellets in a liter sized bottle of water and tried to dissolve it by shaking the bottle for a good five minutes. It looked about the same size though. Opening the bottle let out a rush of air, as if I’d just opened up a carbonated beverage. Bubbles rose up from the liquid and coalesced on the plastic walls. The pellet may look the same, but something had carbonated my water. I carefully emptied about half of the bottles contents onto a gym towel and let it soak in. Then I proceeded to rub the towel over every inch of my body. I didn’t feel anything. There wasn’t even a film on my skin to speak of. I started to wonder if I was making a big deal over what really was just a standard cleaning supply. Well, I still wanted to go for a jog before my stomach demanded I eat. Leaving the half full bottle and its little pellet in the room, I made my way into the stair well. By the time I made it to the ground floor I knew something was up. My legs felt like they were on fire and were pumped as if done with a two hour workout. That raw sexual energy was buzzing in my core. This was different than the usual uber-workouts I was growing accustomed; the simple act of walking down stairs shouldn’t have had this much of an effect. With a grin that oozed confidence and power, I threw myself into a jog that felt more like a sprint. Within minutes, my lungs heaved and my heart beat like a bass drum but my legs demanded I not slow down. I felt them heat up and expand in defined bulges that only pushed me harder. I finished three miles in record time before my stomach called a halt to the whole thing. Raw energy couldn’t overcome dangerously low blood sugar. I waddled into the cafeteria, my thighs bulging like tree trunks. Every step sent quivering jolts through my body. My legs demanded more. They wanted to push some real weight around. I spent an hour stuffing myself before I finally left, gut bloated like a balloon. I was happy to see that my recently hidden abdominal muscles were showing themselves again. My ballooned gut showed their faint etchings through my shirt. I headed back to the room for a reapplication of the muscle concoction sitting on my brother’s nightstand. My legs were still pumped but felt fresh and ready for more. This gym day would be epic. It was hard to contain myself. When I got back to my brother’s room, I noticed that the seemingly insoluble pellet had actually dissolved a bit in the two hours I’d been gone. A muddy brown cloud rested at the bottom of the bottle. A quick shake dissolved most of it and revealed a tablet half its original size. I pulled off the cap and the water immediately bubbled over the rim and onto my hand. Without thinking, I lifted the bottle and tried to drink the run off as if it were an agitated bottle of champagne. The water tasted bitter and sent a tingle down my throat that immediately set my heart into double-time. I switched to catching the remaining runoff in my hand. Once the contents of the bottle had settled, I proceeded to rub my drenched hands all over my body. The liquid, although thick to the point of being sticky, seemed to immediately soak into my skin and disappeared like rubbing alcohol. My brain responded as if injected with a shot of adrenaline. My breathing tried to quicken and I had to concentrate to form deep steady breaths. I looked back at the bottle with its lima bean sized pellet still sitting at the bottom. I took another sip of the concoction, allowing the sharp drink to fall into my stomach. Was that a good idea? I tilted the bottle and sprinkled some of the contents on my shoulders and let its tingling drops fall down my chest and back. They felt like the caress of a lover’s fingers as they fell into the recently created crevices of my chest, back and abs. Rubbing it in resulted in a deep, pulsing warmth deep in my body’s core. It was intensely arousing and made thinking difficult. I took a few more sips before rubbing the liquid into my thighs. Already pumped, they started to flex involuntarily, each contraction sending a sexual jolt to my crotch that made me groan with pleasure. Actions became somewhat involuntary as something primeval took the driver’s seat. I continued to apply but my thoughts were only on the feeling. Lightning danced across my skin and tickled my senses. My hands kept moving and the level of that water bottle kept falling. I heard myself gasp in pleasure as I rubbed my crotch. Who was doing that? No matter. It felt so good. It felt so good… “Weren’t you just here?” I was eating again. There was a ton of food in front of me but I made it disappear quickly. My body was so hot. I was on fire. The place was empty, as if just for me. I was in a car. I was in a parking lot. I was in a weight room. I stared at a dumbbell for a moment. I picked it up. I started moving it. My brain exploded as my body screamed in bliss so intense it almost hurt. I could feel my bicep contract. Pain and bliss. Over and over. Both increased with each rep. Images danced before me; one after another. My body moved on its own but knew what to do. It pulled and pushed, harder and harder and harder. I felt my body swell and the incredible feeling only grew sharper. The heat was always there. The rush was always there. The squeeze. That incredible squeeze that sent a dozen orgasms across the swelling expanse of my body. I felt my shirt grow tight. “Dude, wicked pump.” I don’t know what I said back to that voice. I was hungry. I was sitting in front of food again. It tasted so good but didn’t seem to hit my stomach. I kept eating but couldn’t be satisfied. It was like a dream. More weights, more lifting. Movement was becoming increasingly difficult and easy at the same time. It didn’t matter. The squeeze was all that mattered. That strange force driving my body did so with incredible skill. My body hurt but with that pain rode the heavenly fire that burst like a volcano from every pore. I felt so strong, so invincible. The feeling was intensifying. I saw veins dance their way across my body. Where had those come from? “Oh god.” Who said that? Me? I was eating again. There were others nearby. There were staring. I ignored them. They had nothing to do with the squeeze. I had to get back there. In the parking lot, people were staring. In the weight room, people were staring. I ignored them all. It had to bring that fire back. The gym. The cafeteria. Back to the gym. Back to the cafeteria. The food. The squeeze. Body on fire. People staring. Hard to breath. Hard to… * * * I awoke to the blurred vision of newborn sunlight with a handful of cotton lodged between my ears. I turned my head and felt a small shock when I realized I wasn’t in my dorm room. Don’t you remember? This is your brother’s place, a knowing voice whispered to my groggy senses. My brain understood but hadn’t quite put together the significance of anything yet. Why was it so hard to breathe? I reached up to rub my head. Why was it so hard to move my arm? The haze of the world reminded me of a hangover, except without the headache. In fact, aside from a raw gnawing of a completely empty stomach, I felt great. Really great. I sat up, mind growing clearer yet still lodged in sleep. I stood up and for some reason did it too fast, sending a wave of vertigo across my mind. I took a step and tripped on the front of my toe. I stumbled a few paces. It was as if my body was overreacting to my brain’s demands. As I caught myself against my brother’s nightstand I heard something rip. For one terrified moment, I thought I’d injured myself then I realized it was just my shirt. My shirt? I looked at the top of the dresser at a plastic water bottle, empty save for a lima bean sized pellet sitting at the bottom. Partial memories crashed into my consciousness like an avalanche of fire. I drank the whole bottle, I thought in wonder. What happened after that? I looked down and was shocked to see my once normal fitting shirt was stretched across my torso like Under Armor. Bulges and ripples exploded from the body beneath the fabric to such an extreme I immediately thought I was hallucinating. That wasn’t my body. I reached up and put my hands on the eight hard discs that bulged from my stomach, relishing the way my arms stretched my sleeves. I flexed my right arm and the seam parted immediately, tearing the fabric all the way up to my shoulder. An arm carved from a mountainside bulged out and appeared to inhale as if broke from its shackles. My arms were huge. I flexed the other and burst out of that sleeve as well. I felt my pecs, each over two inches deep, and flexed them into two gigantic boulders. It worked, I thought as that victorious excitement overcame the throbbing hunger in my stomach. I raced out of the door, down the hall, and into the bathroom. It was a clumsy adventure as my limbs didn’t move the way I was used to. Not only were they far stronger but appeared longer than the day before too. I finally made it to the bathroom and its full sized mirrors. The reflection staring back at me looked more like my brother than me. My grey workout shirt looked painted onto an anatomy chart. Every inch of me rippled and jumped with each movement. Traps bubbled from my gorged shoulders and pulled my collar tight and away from my neck. I could make out frayed tears along the collar’s edge. Muscles protruded from my back like a shield and a crab flex formed a tear from collar to hem along the back of the shirt. As with my arm, my back seemed to swell and stretch as the suffocating shirt was torn apart. I put my hands on my collar and pulled, ripping the shirt in half and pulling it off. I filled my lungs and stretched a body that had lived in a cocoon since I passed out the day before. The image in the mirror was beyond my imagining. Seeing such a body on someone else was one thing, but owning it held an exhilaration I could not have imagined until now. I gave the mirror a quick show of my flexed seventeen inch arms before racing back to the room wearing only my gym shorts. I immediately found my brother’s scale and my heart skipped a beat when 214 showed up on the screen. I’d gained 24 pounds in one day! Although part of me was upset I’d missed the sensation of growing into this godlike body, I knew my growing wasn’t close to being done. At this rate, I could be the size of my brother in another day. And it was only the second day of a ten day spring break. There was a knock on the door. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to make myself as silent as possible. As far as the person on the other side of the door was concerned, I wasn’t here. Unfortunately, the knock came again, this time with a voice. “I know you’re in there,” a familiar female said. She sounded like a wild cat hunting prey. My heart dropped as I saw the door knob turn. I’d forgotten to lock it. Admitting defeat, I rushed to pull a shirt over my head. It stretched tightly over my recently expanded torso but did a somewhat decent job of hiding my incredible definition. “Hello there, stud,” McKenzie said with a wry smile as she let herself in. “Rhys said you were going to keep me company this week,” she said and walked over to me. “Did he now?” I said, smiling. She wore shorts and a tank tip that showed off her breasts and powerful legs. She nodded and patted my chest. “I saw you yesterday. You didn’t look like you needed to be bothered.” Her eyes held a mischievous glow as she put her hands under my shirt and rubbed the front of my torso. “You’ve been working out it seems. Your brother having an effect on you?” She gave my chest a good squeeze before lowering her hand and reaching into my pants. I betrayed myself by gasping when she wrapped her hands around my dick. It responded instantly and began to grow hard. She smiled again. “You’ve got a little way to go before you catch up to your twin,” she said as she pushed me back by my dick and forced me back on the bed. “Still, you’re so damned cute.” She ripped off my pants as I lay on the bed, legs dangling over the edge. She worked my dick with her hand and I watched in awe as it swelled well beyond its normal seven inches. She smiled at me, eyes impressed, and then wrapped her mouth around my nine inch member. I saw the muscles in her arms and shoulder move as she gave me the best blow job I’d ever had. I also couldn’t help but notice the way my legs bulged with power. I straightened them and curled my toes. My flexed quads swelled and pushed the intruder up a solid inch. She continued her work but couldn’t help but grab the muscular bulges of my huge thighs as if they were handles. We both moaned as I let go and she squeezed my legs with such fervor I could already feel the bruises forming. Finished, she got up and walked away with a smile. “I’m busy tonight,” she said nonchalantly. “Maybe we can pick up where we left off tomorrow night.” She walked out as if I gave an answer she was satisfied with and closed the door behind her. I smiled. By tomorrow night I’d be every bit the man my brother was…and then some. CHAPTER 8 Rays of sunlight cut like blades through the gaps in the blinds and sent bars of light across my brother’s dorm room. Five minutes after McKenzie made her exit I was still laying on my brother’s bed, legs dangling over the side and naked from the waist down. I held an open hand above my upturned face, watching as the sunlight beamed across its skin. The chilled relaxation of post orgasm still caressed my brain as I marveled at the foreign object suspended above me. It was not my hand; it was far bigger than my hand. Muscle writhed in the depths of its palm and along the edges of its fingers. This was the hand of a natural-born jock. In my peripheral I could see the forearm it was attached to, sinewy and powerful in the early morning light. Below that, a bicep, relaxed yet prominently protruding against the rest of its arm and straining the cotton sleeve of the shirt that tried to confine it. A large purple vein wound its way along its crest. It didn’t look like my arm. It was too powerful, too beautiful. A stomach that was soft only a few days ago now housed cascading boulders. The ravines and valleys of my legs were alien yet exhilarating. My body pulsed with such power and strength I didn’t even know how to handle it. This was not by body. Yet it was. Every pound of it. I balled my fist and flexed my arm, sending the relaxed bicep into a shredded softball and forcing the shirtsleeve to creak as stitches groaned. The contraction shot an increasingly familiar jolt of energy across my body. My recently used dick sprang back to life. I smiled and rolled my head back. I’d always thought about how having a body like this would look but never realized the true joy came from how it felt. Every part of me felt so strong, so hard. I was raw energy in a skin sarcophagus and I needed release. I wanted more. I turned my head and looked at the bottle on the dresser. It sat innocently silent as it cradled its partially dissolved pellet on the bottom. I smiled. That bottle held enough power to make my current form appear diminutive. I wasted no time. After grabbing the bottle and putting on my shorts, I strolled out of the room and towards the water fountains. I made it three steps before I saw an all too familiar car sitting in front of the bathroom door. Oh shit. My heart hit my throat and I skidded to a halt. I was about to turn around and dive back into my room when a rugged and lumpy man strolled out of the restroom with a brush in hand. That wasn’t Dr. Powers. I forced myself to breathe and continued towards the water fountain as if nothing was amiss. The janitor nodded at me as I passed and encouraged the curious idiot in me to take over. “Hey, so who’s the other guy that does these floors?” I asked, hopefully sounding nonchalant. The man lowered an eyebrow, forming deep folds atop his sun-stained nose. “Other guy?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Only me, man. I have this building Monday and Thursday. Got Broward Hall and Rollings to do still thanks to Loy being on vacation.” He sighed and looked at me with comically squinted eyes. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have anything to do this week. But some of you always stick around for some reason.” He shook his head again and pushed his cart towards the other bathroom. I stared at the man for a moment as he walked away. Well that explains how Dr. Powers got away with not actually cleaning when he plants his little growth pills. It was somewhat ingenious when I thought about it. After all, who really notices a janitor? I grinned at the whole scenario and filled the bottle, watching its precious cargo dance in the rapids as water crashed over it. I capped it and started shaking it as I made my way back to the room. I felt the walls of the bottle grow firm as its internals pressurized. Thirty minutes later, I was still in my brother’s room and had been shaking the stupid water bottle for every second of them. That damn lima bean was a bitch to dissolve but I think I’d finally finished the job. I couldn’t complain too much since all that shaking had given my arm a pretty amazing pump. The liquid inside now resembled used bath water…not the most desirable thing to slather over your body. But this murky liquid held as much of a punch as the dose I gave myself the day before. I’d have to be a little more controlled with my usage today; yesterday wasn’t a complete black out, but at best it was a distant memory. I had depressurized the bottle every few minutes so opening it didn’t create a geyser this time. I poured a third of its contents over my naked body. Rubbing it into the newly minted bulges and ripples of my limbs and torso was a turn on in itself. Just for shits and giggles I drank a little of the mixture as well. I had no evidence drinking had any added effect but it didn’t seem to hurt me yesterday. I- “Oh fuck,” I said out loud as the liquid immediately started to take effect. My dick was the first to recognize the juice and swelled to it’s now normal nine inches. Without thinking, I immediately got on the floor and started doing pushups. I don’t know how many I did, nor did I care. All I wanted was that exhilarating energy to consume me. I felt my chest start to expand and soon they began to squeeze against each other when fully contracted. Demanding more, I took one hand off the floor and kept pumping, switching arms every now and then. My triceps flared angrily and I could feel them swelling across the back of my arm like a hot liquid. The squeeze was incredible and every rep sent a new jolt through my body. I could feel my body come close to orgasm but commanded it to contain itself. My muscles moved themselves as my free hand returned to the ground and my feet kicked forward, sending my legs high in the air. I held myself upright with my hands and head, doing a handstand for the first time in my life. I pushed with my hands and lifted my head off the ground, effectively doing an upside-down shoulder press. Sunlight poured through the window and emblazoned every iron contour of my body in contrasting light. The shear exhilaration at the site of me and the rush of the lift made me lose that delicate control and I came right there. I threw what seemed like a gallon on the floor around me as I continued to perform rep after rep. The balance required sent my stabilizer muscles into a frenzy and I felt muscles I didn’t even know I had start to grow. I could feel my abs tighten, each brick pressing against my skin as if trying to break free. After countless reps I fell to the ground, lungs gasping for air and body demanding more. I smiled. Working out naked was incredible. I briefly considered taking an exhibitionists risk but decided to throw on my shorts before running to the bathroom for a quick body check. I looked twenty pounds heavier in the mirror. My chest and shoulders were gorged, completely out of proportion with the rest of my body. My pecs sent a shadow halfway down my shredded abs. My shoulders were on their way to becoming large cantaloupes and my triceps looked like they were trying to break free from my arm. Still, I was 6’2 and 217 pounds…I had a lot of room to grow and a shirt would still hide much of what I’d gained. My stomach growled, angrily demanding the fuel my body so desperately craved. The eyes glaring at me from the mirror held a focus that would have frightened a stranger. That, combined with the wild grin, made me wonder how much control I really had over my body. “Here we go,” the reflection said. It took tremendous willpower to avoid going right to the gym. The cashier at the cafeteria gave me a double take when I walked in. Recognition swept across her eyes but confusion kept her questions at bay. I ate enough food to embarrass an entire baseball team and a little sweet talking allowed me to leave with two to-go boxes full of chicken breasts and pasta. Finally, I made it to the gym. After putting my food reserves in the corner along with a tub of protein from my brother’s room, I hit the weights like a starving lion attacking its prey. Now able to throw some real weight around, it wasn’t long before I started to lose control. Although much more cognizant than the day before, I could only watch as my body moved with a mind of its own. Shock danced across my mind as I picked up sixty pound dumbbells and started curling them as if they were warm-up weights. My arms filled my shirtsleeves within seconds and after a few sets I could see the striations of my shoulders through the fabric itself. Energy pulsed through my brain and that orgasmic sensation radiated out from my stomach and across my ever expanding form. I put 270 pounds on a 45 pound bar and pressed it nearly a dozen times, sending my still swollen chest into orgasmic ecstasy. I made a relief trip to the bathroom, ate four chicken breasts, and was back at the weights in minutes. Before long, my body was so swollen my once loose shirt looked painted on. My reflection held the same sinister smile and focused eye from the morning; only now it sat on a body that would make the most avid lifter stare in awe. And I wasn’t done. The morning flew by and I let my body drive itself. I focused instead on the raw power that continued to intensify as my body pressed against its vessel. It wasn’t until I realized I was out of protein and food that my body authorized a moment to gather my thoughts. At this point I realized that my right shirt sleeve had ripped halfway up the bulge of my deltoid and another had parted across my right lat. I tore off both sleeves as if they were made of paper. The effort tore the seam across the left lat. To avoid looking like a jackass, I simply took off the shirt entirely. It’s not like it was effectively hiding anything anyway. The half dozen or so others in the gym shifted from peripheral stares to outright gapes. “Holy shit, dude,” a muscular student said as he walked up. “You have GOT to tell me what you’re doing to look like that.” I looked at him curiously. He had a body that easily matched mine. What’s he want with— Then I saw my reflection in one of the gym’s many mirrors and started gaping at me as well. I had to be nearing my brother’s size by now and every pound was shredded beef. I let a smirk crease my face as I turned to the admirer. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said simply as I let my stomach take me out of the weight room. I left the gym, ignoring the gaping awe of the attendant at the front desk. Any motivation to tell me to put on a shirt seemed to have skipped his mind. I left and made my way to my car. The sun felt amazing on my skin and sent goose bumps across the ever widening landscape of my body. I had always been blessed with completely flawless skin and it looked brilliant on a body that would have made the Olympic gods ask for workout tips. The cafeteria was nearly empty but I turned what few heads there were. I was three plates into my lunch when I realized I hadn’t found a replacement shirt. I shrugged at the thought, not ignoring how my gargantuan traps bunched up against my neck. No one here should mind staring at my naked torso for a little while. Whether they did or not, no one verbally objected. I even noticed the manager peek his head around the corner. The look in his eyes told me he would rather stare at me than follow the hygienic rules issued by the university. My body ached from four continuous hours of working out and each muscle felt torn to shreds. That feeling slowly subsided as I gorged on plate after plate of food. My body swelled with the fuel and stretched my skin as easily as it did my shirt. I walked back to the dorm with my gut filled to my neck. What few people there were on campus each gave me a double take. I usually returned the attention with a bounce of my pec or a flex of the arm. After picking out one of my brother’s shirts and making a quick stop at the store for another jug of protein, I was back at the weights. The day blurred as I let the rush of fire blow over me. The intensity only grew as the day grew old and my control continued to slide. By dinner I had given up trying to maintain any semblance of control and let my thoughts drift off into my boiling brain. I don’t remember going to sleep that night. The next morning began with same grogginess as the day before. An initial state of confusion. The strange feeling and clumsiness of taking up more space than usual. The rush of energy when I tested my new body. The erotic wonder of exploring myself in the shower. Finally, the pure exultation at the site of myself in the mirror as I dried off. On Thursday, I’d walked into this building a 6’2 190 pound twig. Now it was Monday and I was finally my brother’s equal at 6’4 and 240 pounds. I could stop here, I thought. My brother and I could be twins again. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror and my eyes flickered to the 2/3 full water bottle on the counter. Maybe it was time for me to move on, to show my brother what if felt like to be the little twin. Before I could think it through, I was drenched in the last of the bottle’s contents. I stared at my reflection a moment longer, watching the droplets rain down my body. They seemed to shrink as they trailed down the grooves of my skin and not a drop made it to the ground. I could feel my skin drinking them in like sunlight. I was almost dry within a couple minutes. “Hey Rhys,” a voice called from the bathroom door. “I didn’t expect you back until Thursday.” My throat contracted and my stomach nose-dived into my groin. I turned to see a familiar face dressed only in a towel and a pair of shower shoes. He had red curly hair and the face of a software engineer. The last time I saw him he had the legs of a champion bodybuilder and the upper body of a lanky swimmer. It looked like his upper body had started to catch up. I could not for the life of me remember his name. He looked about 5’10 and a smidgen over 200 pounds. I guess there was no use lying to him. “I’m Ryan,” I said finally as I grabbed the towel from the counter and wrapped it around my waist. “I’m hanging here for the week.” The last time he saw me, I was shy of 180. I saw the questions welling up in Poindexter’s head but knew he wouldn’t mutter a single one of them. Doing so would break the unspoken rule of ignoring the strange phenomenon going on at the muscle dorm. I could play this game too. The fellow simply nodded. “Looking good, Ryan,” he said as he strolled by me. “Same to you,” I said, suddenly distracted by the tingling rush which had begun to swell across my body. My dick had suddenly poked through the top of my towel and began travelling up along deep, granite groove which ran down the center of my abdominal muscles. I left the bathroom as the rush intensified and my dick continued up past my bellybutton. A couple of other people were walking the halls, as if they tried to go home for the break but couldn’t voluntarily stay away from the power of this place for long. I got a “What’s up, Rhys” a couple of times as I made my way back to the room but I was too consumed with my own body to do much more than grunt a reply. By the time I shut the door behind me, I was completely dry and ready to rub one out. It was amazing; even jacking off made my muscles swell like balloons. I got dressed in my brother’s clothes and picked up one of a half dozen tubs of proteins I just now realized I’d bought the day before. My parents might question all these purchases but it’s not like my brother was going to the Bahamas for free. I ate a breakfast of champions and hit the gym. From the moment I picked up that first weight, my brain returned to autopilot and the physical world suddenly lost all meaning… My consciousness was filled with timeless sensations instead of chronological events. At no point could I tell you where I was or what I was doing. All I could tell you was how my body looked and felt. As the machine I wore around my boiling mind went through its mechanical grind I could only savor the feeling of my shirt growing tighter and tighter, seeing veins bulge and start spreading across the terrain of my body. I felt my muscles flexing over and over, each time getting a little bigger. My neck grew wide as my traps bubbled higher and higher. The striations my chest and bulging bricks of my abs were protruding as if my ever tightening shirt was being plastic formed to my body. There was a rip. An investigation showed that my brother’s shirt was splitting at the collar. Another look showed that my shorts were plastered on thighs the size of a normal man’s waist. I could only watch as my body swelled and pulled the shirt apart like wet paper. A torrent of power surged through me and I closed my mind’s eye to let myself drift away on its rapids. I felt my body grow ever larger and tighter and harder. My shoes were too tights, my shirt nearly suffocating, I had to break free. I had to… The sun had long since checked out when my actions started to return to my control. I was tired to the point of collapse but a recent meal was still working its way into my bloodstream. I was a man made of molten iron. Dressed only in boxer shorts tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination, I left the dorm room and made my way to the first floor. I felt air brush against my body as I walked through it, letting me know just how much more space I took up now. Goose bumps rolled across my flawless granite chest and trickled down abs made of mortar bricks. My arms, hanging slightly outward against flared lats, bulged with over twenty two inches of raw muscle. Shoulders sitting somewhere between cantaloupe and pumpkin flared angrily as my arms moved. Thighs bigger than my waist bulged and writhed with each step. I didn’t need to see them to know; I could feel it. My footsteps thundered as I made my way down the stairs. How much did I weight npw? 270? 300? More? The world was noticeably smaller. Was I that much taller? It didn’t matter right now. I was hungry and it had nothing to do with food. I knocked on a door and a moment later McKenzie opened it. Her standard coy smile and smug eyes turned into a gaping jaw and shocked stare as she took in the sight ofme. Her mouth worded Oh my god but her voice couldn’t muster a sound. I let myself in without saying a word. Her hands immediately flew to my waist and she explored my rippling obliques. Those hands felt so small now; so delicate. Those were two words not easily used for a girl nearing six feet tall with the strength to best most men. She tried to take control, as she always had with me, but I didn’t let her. I ripped the clothes off her taught body and pulled her close; her full red lips parted in ecstasy and her vibrant brown hair fell from its clip and down her bare muscular back. Her hand pressed against my chest as I reached down and picked her up. “How?” she finally managed to say. I smiled and felt my wide neck flare out as my traps bulged under the negligible strain of her weight. That was the only answer she would receive. I rested her now naked form on the bed. She wore muscle in all the right places. Sturdy thighs, graceful abdominal lines, ample breasts, strong curvy arms. She had the body of a six foot tall fitness model. How had I once found skinny girls so attractive? Her eyes dripped with lust as she surprised me by grabbing the flap of my boxer shorts and with a single motion ripped them from my body. A pulsing ten inch mass sprang up as I lay over her, the shadow of my gargantuan form engulfing hers. She wasted no time and forced me into her. I was a tight fit but she was a big girl. After a few warm-up thrusts, I was able to throw her senses into worlds she’d never known. I framed her shoulders with my hands and bent my arms at the elbow as I leaned down to kiss her. She grabbed the backs of my arms and squeezed with all her strength as I started to move inside of her. The boulders on the back of my arms didn’t dent a millimeter and her eyes grew all the more hungry. Warmth spread from my crotch to the far corners of my body as we moved in rhythmic thirst. She moaned as her hands shook involuntarily and found new homes nested in the craggy folds of my mountainous back. I felt my chest swell and triceps flare as I continued to lean into her writhing body. My abs grew tighter and deeper as I sped up my efforts; her moans grew into shouts broken by gasps for breath. My body continued to swell and I felt my lats expand under her shaking grasp. She felt it too but that only made her grab hold tighter. Tighter and tighter, faster and faster, bigger and bigger. I grew inside of her too. “Oh shit-loving fuck!” she gasped in sheer pleasure as she climaxed and came around me. She pulled herself up and pressed her body into my ever growing chest and abs. Her nails dug into me as I moved ever faster inside of her. I lifted one hand from the mattress and put it behind her upper back. I pulled her closer and my bicep exploded with the effort. One of her hands grabbed my neck, not even making it around half of it as she pressed herself closer and rocked against my dick. Her head flung back and she roared as I came inside of her for nearly a minute. She called to god as I smiled above her contorting body. We were both now covered in sweat which made our iron bodies slide against each other like wet bars of soap. A spasm tremored its way through her body as she came again. Her body grew harder and more defined as she wrapped her legs around my midsection. My semen was apparently having an effect on her size. I stood up, her arms wrapped around my shoulders and legs snaked around my waist. I was still as hard as a baseball bat when I landed her against the wall and let her gyrate against me. She had over ten inches of dick to explore and she was making every effort to discover every piece of it. I continued to swell, forcing her to adjust more than once. The wall behind her creaked beneath our combined strength and a crack made its way to the ceiling. Her eyes grew hungrier as she felt my body grow under her hands and inside the intimate recess of her body. Each of my muscles felt as if it were flexed and pumped as they squeezed raw, throbbing power out of my pores. I gasped as much at that sensation as I did the steam engine grinding against my dick. She was growing stronger too; her arms and legs were digging into my body but it only made me stronger. Veins sprouted across my shoulder, chest, and arms as I pumped her. With one final vocal explosion, McKenzie and I came and her legs fell from their mantle. I moved my arms under her ass and kept her motion going as if she were dumbbells. My arms swelled all the more and she instinctively grabbed them while her head leaned back. She pressed her breast against my neck. She arched her back sharply and shook as if hit with a sudden seizure. I stabilized us both by freeing a hand and pressing it against the wall. The room shook with the contact and another crack stretched across the wall. Her screams could be heard across the street as she pushed against my traps and slid down my dick in one final thrust before she finally collapsed in my arms. Gasping, I pulled her away from the shattered wall, supporting her with only two hands and an insatiably hungry dick. I slid her off the latter, having to raise her up nearly a foot to do so. My arms appeared to have swelled to about 24” of pure, vascular muscle and had a strength that far exceeded that size. I laid her on her bed, taught body drenched in sweat and chest rising and falling rapidly. “I’ve never...” she started between breaths. Her lips were parted and held a delicate smile. She reached up and rested her fingers on one of the horizontal ravines of my abs. Her eyes held the hunger of wanting more mixed with the disappointment of knowing her body was spent. “Your brother won’t believe what he comes home to,” she whispered as her eyes slid down my glistening body. I smiled and turned to leave but was stopped by a string hand wrapping itself around my dick. I turned to look at a still breathless McKenzie, who stared at me above a now devilish smile as she gripped my dick and toyed with its head using her thumb. “You should consider yourself lucky,” she said as her hand continued its work. “It takes a special girl to be able to handle an eleven inch tool.” Her hand barely made it around my shaft but her touch carried wonders with it. “Remember that,” she said as she gave a final squeeze and released me. “I’ll find you later.” With that, she rolled her naked body over and went to sleep. I strolled out of the room in a daze and started to walk towards the stairwell, eager to see what I looked like. I made it a few steps before I realized there were eyes staring at me. It took a few steps more before I realized I was naked as the day I was born and wore a hard on that would have seemed oversized in porn. I stopped and looked around at the half dozen or so girls standing in the hallway. Apparently McKenzie’s screams and the structural damage we’d caused had garnered some attention. None of them said a word but all of their eyes leaned hungrily against my gigantic body. What did they see right now? I couldn’t wait to find out. What could one more pill do? “Holy shit, Rhys,” one girl said in a horse whisper. I smiled. “Rhys is my brother,” I said in a booming voice. “I’m Ryan.” With that I turned and walked upstairs and back to my room. CHAPTER 9 My joints groaned as I sat up and squinted against the harsh light of morning. The bed groaned even louder. I was as naked as the day I was born but larger than a man had right to be. The sensation of the raw power and weight I controlled made the whole world seem small and fragile by comparison. I could break that desk with my bare hands. I could kick that chest and crack it down the center. I flexed my right bicep and grabbed the boulder of muscle with my left hand. Veins rolled over the striations of the muscle they snaked over as I massaged it. My dick sprang to life instantly. Even my giant’s hand couldn’t wrap around its girth. Every inch of me was huge. Yet I could be so much bigger. I smiled as my eyes flickered to the tablets lying innocently on my brother’s desk. One pill (with a dump truck of food and a mountain of dumbbells) had padded me with well over a hundred pounds of muscle…in two days! What could the rest do? I stood and had to steady myself against the exaggerated motion of my new height. I filled the room like a gale force wind. The eight foot ceiling was a very short reach above my head. After a few test steps I made my way to the desk and picked up the pellets. They seemed so insignificant piled in my hand. Yet inside, they could… I lost all sense of thought or consequence and threw the handful of pills down my throat in one gulp. My mind exploded as an orgasmic tidal wave swept across my brain and my body grew to an extent the world had never seen. My body grew harder than iron as it expanded with raw power. The tile below my growing feet began to crack, then spider webbed out in every direction before collapsing into the floorboards like broken egg shells. My head crashed into the ceiling and gave way to my ever expanding form as I tore through the plaster and concrete with my bare hands. I roared like a titan, bursting the windows clear from their frames… I shook myself violently out of the fantasy and put the pellets in the top drawer of the desk. Maybe they would be less tempting out of sight. I was big enough. For now. Shit, I didn’t even really know how big I was. I needed a mirror. The thought made me temporarily forget about the pills. I threw on a pair or basketball shorts that, while loose the day before, were now as snug as biker shorts and only made it halfway down my thigh. The hallway was empty as expected (spring break was only halfway over after all) but I could hear rummaging from behind the doors of the muscle dorm. In my haste, I rounded a corner too close and my shoulder slammed into the edge, leaving a softball sized indention. I’d be lying if I said my shoulder didn’t throb a bit, but the exhilaration of besting a building definitely helped sooth it. My new width would take as much getting used to as my new height. I finally made it to the bathroom and found myself staring at a living god in the mirror. There was muscular, and then there was MUSCULAR…and I exceeded even the latter. I must be nearing seven feet; I had to duck a little to see my own face. Below my head was the most perfect body I’d ever seen…swollen to fit a giant’s frame. Muscle was everywhere; strong, hard, ripped muscle. This wasn’t the gorged, balloon-like meat on Olympian bodybuilders. This was the muscle of a champion track star, expanded to super-human size. I threw a double bicep pose that made my lats expand like wings and made bowling balls blossom on my arms. Each pec was as big as my head and they sat upon abdominal bricks that could have held a gallon of water in the canyons they rose from. I was so enraptured by my form that I didn’t even know there was company until I heard an “Oh shit” escape a pair of lips. My heart skipped a beat as I turned and looked down at a pair of pale blue eyes staring at me from behind thick lensed glasses. I recognized him in a second: that short cropped curly hair, the narrow face, the small pouty lips, the non-existent chin, the alabaster pale skin. “Cody right?” my voice boomed. Cody’s face revealed every bit the nerd he was the moment I met him. Yet his upper body was now heavily muscled and contrasted drastically with his demeanor. He wasn’t huge my any means but those shoulders, arms, and chest would have been worn proudly by any high school athlete. And, by the outline of the towel that covered him from the waist down, his legs were still proportionately larger than his upper body. My brother did say he favored running. Built or not, he looked like a squirt compared to me. It took a moment for Cody to get his mouth working. “What the fuck, Rhys?” he finally managed. I laughed; it sounded like boulders tumbling over a rocky crag. “It’s Ryan,” I said cockily. “Can’t you see the difference?” I spread my arms wide and let him get an eye full. His eyes barely made it to my chest but they explored every inch of me. He reached out as if to touch me but his hand stopped halfway and just hung there. I looked at both our reflections in the mirror. Maybe he wasn’t as built as I thought he was. He had some abs, and some bumps on his arm, chest, and back. But it wasn’t real size. Then, as suddenly as he had entered, Cody turned and hurried out of the bathroom. Apparently now wasn’t the time for a shower. I just blew his mind, I thought. I looked back at the mirror and gave it a grin that would have melted women’s hearts even when I was a twig. Maybe it was time to blow some more. It was a good day for a jog. I went back to the room and tried to throw on a pair of shoes no longer big enough. After ripping through the back heel in a vain effort to force my foot in, I decided the shorts alone were enough and raced out of the room, down the stairs, and out the door into the warm, humid Florida spring. I don’t know how long I ran. I navigated the twists and turns of the campus, switching from sidewalk to bike trail to wooded path without much thought. The residual from two days of semi-lucid muscle growth still lingered in my veins and it was all I could do to relish in ecstasy as my already mammoth legs continued to harden and swell. It was apparent that my brain was not used to controlling such a beastly frame. My strides were far longer than expected and it took a little practice before I didn’t look like I was skipping. Growth is usually slow enough to keep the motor skills in step, but my body’s recent explosion seemed too much for it. The result was seemingly constant realizations that went beyond clipping walls with my shoulders. My stride was longer, for one, and it took a while just to find a natural gate. By mid-day, I stood in front of the cafeteria with hands on knees and dripping sweat from every pore. Even though I just ran the equivalent of a marathon, I was a little disappointed to find I wasn’t invincible. The thought brought with it an image of those pills stashed in my brother’s desk. Maybe just one more. But hunger trumped all at the moment so I strolled into the cafeteria, stomach screaming for food. My head brushed the sill of the door as I made my way in, still nude save my shorts and a shimmering sheen of sweat that grew cold as the building A/C brushed against me. Goose bumps rippled across the epic expanse of my skin and sent a chill down my spine. The cashier was different today. She was cute, but petite. Not my style these days. Her eyes told me I was hers, though. She bit her lip as I covered her with my shadow. “Holy shit, you’re beautiful?” she said, then immediately reddened. I smiled as I showed her Rhys’ ID. She didn’t even look at it, let alone scan it. I just let her eyes follow me as I made my way to get the first of what would be many trays of food. The place was just as bare of students as the last few days, but what eyes it held were cemented ton me. I both relished and ignored the attention, more fixated on shoveling food into my mouth. A dozen helpings later, with my ab rippled guy protruding as if pregnant with a teenager, I strolled out of the cafeteria and back into the dorm. A quick shower and a change of clothes and I’d head to the gym to see what I could throw around. The shower took a little longer than I originally planned. I went through a whole bar of soap lathering up; my hands couldn’t get enough. It still hadn’t sunk in that this body was mine. It still felt like someone else’s. I turned the water off and began drying when I heard the bathroom door open. “I dunno, man,” a voice said as footsteps made their way in. “I don’t feel anything. Nothing. I mean, we finished working out thirty minutes ago. I figured I’d feel…something.” “Don’t worry,” a second voice chimed in. “We just got back to town last night.” “I didn’t give up half my spring break for nothing,” the first replied. There was a grunt. “My biceps might be a little bigger.” Then he gave an exasperated sigh. “Fuck dude, I wanna get fucking jacked. I feel like a moron for not noticing it before. I mean, look at you. I used to be the bigger one. Now you have abs and arms like a gymnast. How the ever loving fuck did I not notice my roommate turning into a bodybuilder?” The second guy snickered. “It’s hard to see when you have your head shoved up your girlfriend’s ass. It’s not my fault you spent the entire year so shacking up at Sophie’s place. All the guys living here are getting huge.” “Let me feel that shit,” the first guy said. “God damn, that’s hard. I didn’t even know you worked out.” “I didn’t,” the second guy said. “I do now, though. Once January rolled around, half this floor looked like jocks. I figured there had to be something going on.” “Well did you feel anything at the gym today?” There was a pause. “Like I said, maybe it just takes a while. It’s not like I know what’s going on either.” The door banged opened again and a third voice entered the conversation. “Joe, Aaron. Come with me. You’re not going to believe this,” the third voice said before ducking back out. There was a moment of silence before I heard the first two follow suit. I slowly counted to twenty before leaving the shower myself. It’s not like I was hiding, far from it. I just didn’t want to answer the questions those kids would be asking should they see me. It’s possible I was also feeling a bit guilty for taking their magic away. After all, I was voice number one not too long ago. I tried to convince myself it would all go back to normal once the good doctor came back to restock the shower heads. I made my way back into my brother’s room and searched through Kevin’s gear looking for something a little more appropriate than these skin tight gym shorts. Rhys’s roommate was pushing three hundred pounds himself when I showed up last Friday so it shouldn’t be too hard to find something. I settled for a sleeveless tee and a pair of basketball shorts. Both were a little snug but by no means comical. He had a pair of shoes that, although tight, provided some sort of foot clothing. Kevin had some damn big feet. I turned and made my way back out the room when I spied something on the ground. My heart fluttered when I noticed it was one of the pills. I must have dropped one during the haste of putting them in the desk drawer. I picked it up and toyed with it between two fingers. My mind took flight again. Although my sheer muscularity was beyond human capacity, my weight and height was by no means unheard of. There were NFL linemen on their way to four hundred pounds and basketball players well over seven feet tall. Maybe I could stop when I reached those milestones. When I got to my car, the rogue pill was already slowly dissolving in a water bottle stuffed into my gym bag along with any remaining food from the dorm room. I made it to the gym without giving in to the pill’s temptation. I put the bag with the still full water bottle into a locker and made my way to the weight room. It was sparse but hardly empty. I hardly noticed; all I wanted to do was touch a weight. I picked up a pair of sixties and began a warm-up set of bicep curls. Although the mental haze and supernatural growth brought on by using those pills were greatly reduced, their effect on my libido was still extreme. After a few sets I had to make a break for the locker room. I found a stall and dropped my pants. Completely enthralled in the act of pleasuring myself, I never heard the footsteps entering the restroom. “You from the Muscle Dorm?” a voice called at my back from behind the stall door. My hand stopped its work despite the desperate begging from my dick. Maybe he would go away. I was caught red handed…so to speak…and I didn’t know what to do. “I know you’re in there,” the voice called again. I can see the back of your head above the stall door. I felt my face redden as pulled up my pants, turned around, and peered over the door. Standing on the other side of the stall was a young college student in a sleeveless tank. Perhaps 5’10 and 200 pounds with brown hair and eyes, he had the body of someone who knew how to work out and did so often. Although not as hard and ripped as a seasoned bodybuilder, his muscles bulged in all the right places. His eyes dripped with confidence but his demeanor betrayed him. He was uncomfortable. “Yes?” I asked simply. “You live in the Muscle Dorm, right?” he asked again. “If you mean Powers Hall, then yes,” I replied. “I’ve seen you around,” he said again. “You’re…bigger.” “Yeah,” I said not knowing if he meant compared to my brother or me two days ago. The other guy paused, face reddening. “People are talking,” he said. “I…” I stared at him as he tried to make words. To say the moment was awkward would be an understatement. “I mean,” he continued. “Well, a girl I know is sleeping with a guy over there. And, well, she’s like all fit and shit now. And, well, I dunno, I saw you doing, you know and…” I felt a smile grow across my face and suddenly I was unlocking the stall and opening the door. Those cocky eyes widened as he took in the sight of me. Seeing a nearly seven foot monster from across a gym is one thing, but standing in its shadow is a dramatically different experience. His eyes slowly stepped down my body and stopped at my still erect dick doing a poor job of hiding behind my shorts. “And what?” I heard myself say. “It’s yours if you want it; I’m tired of doing it myself.” The aspiring stud looked at me with both anxiety and hunger. He reached for my dick gingerly as if it were going to bite him. Once he touched it, however, he practically lunged. I tilted my head back in ecstasy as he started his work. He stopped only once and I looked down in frustration at the delay. “I’m not gay,” he said, his cocky eyes showing only hunger now; the anxiety now gone. I grinned, suddenly aware at how fine a line there was between gender preferences. “I don’t care,” I replied before urging him to continue. He took everything I gave him and I could feel the desperation as he practically sucked it like a straw. I sincerely doubted my semen would have any effect on him and, as my pleasure started to fade, I began to take pity on the poor guy. I walked over to my locker and pulled my water bottle from the bag. The pellet had to be only partially dissolved but it was hard to tell through the nearly opaque plastic. “Here,” I said as I walked back over. “You might need to wash your mouth out.” The young jock took the bottle but his eyes remained inward, as if he expected his body to erupt any minute now. He took a healthy swig and I suddenly thought of the dark brown pellet falling towards the bottle’s mouth and aim right for his. My stomach leaped as I tried to reach for the bottle before he dosed himself with what would be well over a hundred pounds of muscle. I took the bottle away from him, slopping a few drops on his face as I took it. “Easy there champ,” I said somewhat frantically. Did he swallow it? “Ugh,” he said as he made a final gulp. “That tastes like lukewarm bathwater.” He stood and looked at me with a mix of awe and wariness, then stared at himself in the mirror. It was an effort for me not to look into the mouth of the bottle, lest he grow suspicious. I still didn’t know if drinking this stuff was more or less effective than putting it on skin. I supposed he would find out shortly. His demeanor soon shifted from anticipation to frustration laced with embarrassment. “Nothing is happening,” he said, his voice breaking. He looked at me. “You must think I’m an idiot.” I flexed an arm that must have been two feet in circumference. “You don’t get to look like this without a little magic,” I said, knowing how dumb it sounded. He seemed to relax, however. “Name’s Trevor,” he said and reached out his hand. “Ryan,” I said as I took it. Something softened in me just then. I smiled at him. “I think we need to hit the weights.” I put the water bottle back in the locker, not caring whether it still contained the pellet or not. CHAPTER 10 It was near sunset before I limped out of the gym, body aching and burning. The stuffing which had clouded my mind for the last three days was finally completely gone and gave me the chance to really feel my body. Although it lacked the insane pump of days before, I more than made up for it in sheer size. The gym scale topped out at three hundred pounds and I easily exceeded that. The sun’s red light danced across my frame, sending its canyon-like valleys and folds into shadows which danced as I made my way to the car. I let out a sigh of relief as I squeezed behind the steering wheel. An unfortunate consequence of staying off the good stuff was that my body couldn’t work out for half a day without painful consequences. I don’t know why I felt the need to keep up with Trevor. I outweighed him by well over a hundred pounds and was far stronger…although appeared to be catching up. He worked out with the fury I’d succumbed to in the days prior and it was a sight to behold. He was possessed and unaware of anything around him other than the weights and occasionally me. He left midafternoon to get some food and I hadn’t seen him since. I spent that time laid back on the bench in the locker room trying to will my muscles to stop hurting. It was at that time I checked the water bottle and was only a little relieved to see the bulk of the pellet sitting in a hazy cloud at the bottom. All-in-all, Trevor might gain a few pounds. Not bad for a day. I worked out haphazardly for a couple more hours, hoping to see Trevor walk back through the door. He never showed, though, up so I took my bag and headed out. After eating another giant’s dinner, I found myself back in my bedroom lying naked on my brother’s bed. I was bigger than I was this morning, but a few extra pounds on a 300+ pound frame was negligible. My shoulders were almost as wide as the mattress. Monster-sized or not, I hurt everywhere. Perhaps I should take it easy tomorrow…or perhaps I should take a few swigs from the bottle. My stomach lurched at the thought. My eyes bore lasers to the desk which held the remaining brown pills. I promised myself I’d slow down. If I didn’t, when would I? 400 pounds? 500? A thousand? I had to be above the upper threshold for human development as it was. Anything more would make me…a freak? I had to admit the thought was more exhilarating than I would have imagined. I felt my bare stomach; abs as hard as granite rose like bricks below a gorged chest that was becoming hard to see around. I could feel my arms pull the surrounding skin tight with the simple act of moving a hand up and down my torso. There was so much power at my command. I could do anything with it. If only I had another pill. In the end, exhaustion won over the internal debate boiling inside my skull. There was always tomorrow. Voices echoed through the halls outside my brother’s door as my consciousness slipped away. Deep voices and thundering footsteps crescendoed then faded as they strolled noisily down the hall. Excitement hung from each unintelligible word. It was Wednesday night and the dorm’s inhabitants were slowly making their way back from vacation…many because they wanted to feel that magic only found within these walls. Sleep came quickly yet was wrought with dreams. I strolled through alabaster halls which crumbled with each step I took. The ceiling was but a hair’s width above my head and my shoulders were mere inches from touching either wall. People cowered in doorways, wanting to rush to safety yet mesmerized by my gargantuan form as I stormed by. Some doors were closed and held whispered breaths behind them. “I saw him this afternoon,” the whispers said. “He’s massive and said he can show us how.” I knew those voices yet…they didn’t sound right. Faces looked up at me from the doorway. Some were scared, some were lustful. Many were hungry. “Does his brother know?” another pseudo-familiar voice asked. I had to find those voices. The walls continued to crack and crumble around me but I never saw the source of those hushed whispers. They were coming from the end of the hall. “He can’t know,” the whispers said. They were quieter now; more distant. “Not until we’re ready.” My head scraped against the ceiling. I ducked and the motion sent my shoulder into the wall. The hallway was getting smaller. Yet I continued to race down its endless corridor. I had to find those whispers. “…but it’s closed,” I heard. “Not the one downstairs.” My other shoulder was brushing against the wall now too. I had to crab sideways to make any progress. “…fucking amazing…” the voice exclaimed before fading away. “No!” I screamed as I tried to squeeze down the hall. But I could barely move; the hallway had gotten so small. Then I looked down and saw more people in the doorway, watching. They were smaller too. No. I was bigger. I looked down and gasped and my naked form. I was still growing. Arms the size of a grown man’s waist flailed out and crushed the walls as if made of paper. I stretched and flexed biceps the size of soccer balls. Legs bigger than a hundred year oak and covered with veins broke through the walls as I stood to full height and crushed the ceiling with my head. A roar escaped my lips and sent the mesmerized bystanders fleeing. Air, I needed air. “I see you’re already ready for me,” the whisper said. I gasped as a rush of energy exploded from my groin. I stood tall and stretched my ever growing body. I was pure energy. The hallway was a ruin. Nothing could stop me. I heard my voice mumbling, dazed and covered in film. I felt my body swell and stretch my skin like a balloon. So much power. I felt amazing. The world began to blur as I flexed every muscle in my body. I was free. The orgasmic lust in my groin grew and with it the world around me grew hazy before fading into darkness. I blinked. A faint silhouette sat hauntingly before my now open eyes. “I said you’re already ready for me,” I heard a woman’s voice say as she stroked my dick with her hand. I moaned in pleasure as I slowly woke up and let the dream fade from memory. Night filled the window but the faint glow of moonlight glinted off McKenzie’s perfect face and form. She was naked and a silver glow lined the graceful yet ample musculature of her body. “Whatever happened to knocking?” I asked as my hand reached up and cupped her breast. She took that as an invitation to climb on top of me. “Well maybe you should start locking your door,” she whispered as she slowly worked me inside of her. It was as tight a fit as ever but she slowly glided onto me. My world exploded as did hers. Where would I find such a woman back home? I was too big for anyone else. Sleepiness was bulldozed by sexual arousal. I wanted to take her like the night before but instead let her run the show as she so liked do. My body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Besides, I was strangely distracted. I couldn’t remember my dream but it left behind a seed of worry. I felt my eyebrows furrow. McKenzie either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She rested a knee on either side of my waist and used her thighs to raise and lower herself onto me. I watched as the lines of her body moved and danced with each thrust. She leaned over and massaged my chest with her hands. “I thought,” she said, already breathless. “I thought you’d be bigger tonight.” I laughed and made my dick jump. The effort shoved her forward and nearly toppled her over. “I’m big enough,” I whispered. She smiled dangerously and flexed some unknown muscle in her vagina. I came immediately as she clawed my stone shoulders. “Careful there, big guy,” she whispered into my ear before bighting the earlobe. “I’m stronger than I was last night.” Suddenly I thought of Trevor and his strange, but satisfying, theory. Maybe he was right, I thought with a grin McKenzie pushed me back and grabbed my traps for leverage until she was done. A few minutes later she was lying on top of me, rubbing her fingers from the hair of my crotch to the nape of my neck and back down. She had no choice but to lay on me as I practically engulfed the mattress. She complained about it more than one. “You love it,” I said as I flexed a pec and bounced her into the air. She smiled but her eyes were distant. “What’s wrong?” I asked. She was silent for a moment. “Nothing,” she said, then stopped herself. “Well, I’m sure it’s nothing.” I flexed my pec again and sent her head flying. “Out with it,” I demanded as she smacked my other pec. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “There’s just something going on around here. There’s you, of course. You woke up half the hall last night and the site of your gargantuan body walking naked down the hall has sent the dozen eyes that saw you leave my room into a tizzy. We don’t talk about what’s going on here but…” She yawned and her hand rested on the expanse of my left bicep. She gave it a squeeze and smiled below closed eyes. “Today was different,” she said as sleep began to take her. “Different?” I asked. “I dunno, it’s probably nothing,” she said again. “It just seems like people are whispering in dark corners.” With that, her breath slowed to the steady rhythm of sleep. I was wide awake now and my mind raced with semi-connected thoughts. I had never been the sharpest knife in the drawer but I had been the only one who figured out about those pills in a dorm full of supposedly smart college freshmen. So why did that see of worry suddenly shoot leaves. My unidentifiable worry didn’t let up but I was still exhausted from the gym today and sleep finally came to me as well. * * * I awoke to golden rays of sun and was surprised to find no sign of McKenzie. Maybe I dreamt that too, I wondered. I sat up and braced myself for an epic post-workout pain that wasn’t there. I felt fine. In fact, I felt wonderful. Wonderful enough to go to the gym again. I wasted no time. I got dressed in some more of Kevin’s clothes and after a quick brushing of my teeth I grabbed the gym bag and was heading down the stairs. I walked to the hall’s front door and, as I opened it, nearly ran into a delivery guy holding what looked to be a dozen meals worth of Chinese food. “Finally,” he said as he picked up his stash. “I’ve been trying to call for—“ He stopped cold when he looked up at the giant who opened the door. “Shit,” was all he said before waddling by me and through the door I was holding. Not taking his eyes off me, he turned and made his way down the stairs. I laughed to myself as I shut the door behind me. I’d only been down there once (what seemed like ages ago while trying to break into the “janitor’s” closet) but was sure no one lived in the basement. Besides, who orders Chinese food at 9 am? I walked around the building and into the “beach” area between Powers Hall and the other three dorms which bordered it. The sun was warm and my skin felt like it was absorbing every photon. I smiled at the perfect day. Maybe there was time to get a little sun before I hit the gym. It was spring break after all. Being so early in the morning, by college standards, there wasn’t anyone else to share the beach with so I meandered to a grassy area near the base of the muscle dorm where the sun was able to reach. I put my gym bag down and as I started to lie down I noticed a steady roar of rock music coming from the building. It seemed to be coming from behind two translucent slit windows inches above the ground. I crept closer, trying to get a better look through the hazy glass. “It’s the Powers weight room,” a voice called at my back. I turned and stood up to full height. In front of me was a suddenly awestricken teen in a white tank top. Perhaps 5’10 and 180, he was in decent shape but wouldn’t turn any heads. He suddenly seemed to be at a loss for words. “There’s a gym in the basement?” I asked incredulously. “Um, yeah,” the kid called back as he worked up his courage. “Every dorm area has a weight room that no one uses. Rusty plates a high school wouldn’t take; a few dumbbells with the rubber guards falling off; shitty machines; the usual.” I looked back towards the window. “Well someone is using it now.” And was digging into a truckload of Chinese food. “Well there’s always a few nerds down there who are too scared to go to a real gym,” he said to my turned head. Something tickled the back of my brain but a pressure against my stomach shattered my concentration. I turned to find this guy I’d never met rubbing his hands over the bricks of my abdomen. His eyes, which barely came to the center of my chest, were completely infatuated. “Can I help you?” I asked, laughing. The effort made my stomach tighten and the ravines between my abs deepen. He pulled his hand back as if bitten. Yet no embarrassment blossomed on his cheeks. He looked…determined. “Look,” he started. “I’ve seen you around. You weighed less than me back in the fall.” His eyes fogged a bit. “So did my friend, Clayton.” He looked back at me. “I saw you and your jock friend walking through here every day from my window over there.” He pointed to one of the halls across from Powers. “And every day you two were a little bigger. A little taller. And you two weren’t the only ones; just the first.” His eyes turned to a non-descript window on the second floor. “He doesn’t even talk to me anymore. He only hangs out with people from the muscle dorm now.” He looked back at me again. “You don’t know how hard it is to watch your best friend from elementary school get a little bigger than you every day until he finally just moves on.” The kid went silent and I took that as my cue to speak. I could only look my feet and feel somewhat awkward. “Actually, I know exactly what that feels like.” I looked at him and saw myself in his eyes. “Maybe it’s time you caught up.” CHAPTER 11 “Uhhh,” David groaned as I rolled over a speed bump. “I just verped. Holy shit, why did you make me eat so much?” I laughed and gave him a pat on the shoulder with my free arm. “Eat big, grow big, Dave,” I said with an intentionally obnoxious tone. David replied with a burp. I laughed again and reached to the back seat and fumbled clumsily through my gym bag while trying to keep an eye on the road. About an hour had passed since I heard David’s sad story about how his high school buddy was suddenly bitten by the muscle bug and left him in the dust. My decision to take this kid under my wing wasn’t solely due to the obvious similarities between our two stories. To be vain (and narcissistic), this guy had the potential to be as good looking as me. He had eyes as blue as sapphires which shimmered just as brightly. Beneath a slight layer of baby fat was an angular face that could have graced the cover of magazines. All he needed was a little muscle to make him into an Adonis. I finished fumbling through my bag and pulled out the infamous water bottle. “Here,” I said nonchalantly. “Take a swig of this and wash that food back down.” David took hold of it and unscrewed the cap. I saw the outline of the liquid within through the translucent plastic as it tilted towards his mouth. My breath caught as I thought of that intoxicating elixir entering David’s unsuspecting veins. David himself must have sensed something. He stopped before even a drop fell on his tongue and pushed bottle back to my hand. “Dude, when was the last time you washed this thing. It smells like dirt.” “Relax,” I said. “It’s just…tepid. Trust me; it tastes better than the puke you’re gargling right now.” David looked at me warily. “I think I’ll pass.” I saw the distrust behind those eyes as he forced the bottle back into my grip. The guy thinks he’s the butt of a joke, I thought. I looked at him for a moment, his slightly fluffy body appearing formless in his white muscle tee. His gut protruded past his chest by a fair margin thanks to the breakfast I forced on him. It would be a shame to see that go to waste. The thought of this new friend of mine growing was more than I could pass up…and deep down I knew that I was just looking for an excuse for what I was about to do. I lifted the bottle and took a gulp of its contents. He was right, it smelled (and tasted)like dirt. Heart racing, I handed the bottle back. “Trust me,” I said. “Just a few gulps.” The distrust was replaced by wariness but he did as I told him and took a couple swigs. By now, the pellet had completely dissolved and we were drinking highly concentrated muscle juice. I only hoped I could still fit in Kevin’s clothes when they day was done. “Bleh,” David said as he recapped the bottle. “I think I preferred the puke.” I said nothing. The strangely exhilarating thought of what David was about to become was suddenly overcome by that familiar nagging tickle in the back of my brain. Although mute, it had proven to be an indicator of chaos (good or bad) in the past. We got to the gym and retrieved our gym bags from the trunk; both were loaded with high calorie foodstuffs. My bag alone weighed about forty pounds, more than I’d need for a single workout but I found the thought of putting that much more weight on exhilarating. Besides, the way the weight, however insignificant, made my arm swell was satisfaction enough. Fuck, I can’t wait to get into that gym! The juice was definitely taking effect. “I think you’re over-estimating my capabilities,” David said as he lumbered alongside me with his own overstuffed bag. “I don’t think I’ll eat for a week, let alone feast on all this shit you had me buy.” I sighed. “You’re a little whiney bitch aren’t you?” I asked as I reached in front of his face and flexed a bicep bigger than his head. Dense, bunched fibers bulged from my arm and his jaw dropped. “How many times do I have to tell you to trust me?” Whether due to my physically intimidating display or the juice hitting his system, determination spread across David’s face like a tidal wave. He didn’t answer me. He didn’t have to. We strolled into the gym and I greeted the young desk attendant with a wink. “Holy Christ, another one?” the guy said as he put his fitness magazine down. “Where are y’all coming from?” I smiled and bounced my boulder-like pecs. “There’s no one else like me,” I said as I strolled by, feeling confident and a little buzzed. The juice was potent. I could see it in David too. He was breathing more deeply and his eyed were both glazed and determined. I suddenly wondered if I’d wasted most of the prior pill’s power by putting it on my skin instead of just drinking all of it. That seemed to be so much more effective. I thought of the mostly full bottle sloshing around in my gym bag. “Hold up,” I said as we walked in the locker room. “Can you pull that scale over here?” A moment later, I was standing with each foot on a scale. Each maxed out at 300 but together… “Fuck dude,” David said at my side. “Three thirty-five!” I could only smile as I stepped off. The two of us threw our bags in random lockers and headed to the gym. Eyes bored into me from every corner of the gym but I ignored them and made my way over to the dumb bell section. I wrapped my hands around a pair of sixties and looked over at David, who had his hands wrapped around a set of twenties. His pale formless arms protruded from his sleeveless tank like albino slugs but they twitched in anticipation of a metamorphosis they didn’t quite understand. “You ready for this shit?” I asked him. “More than you know,” he said. We picked up our weights and the world went wild. We didn’t care who heard; we didn’t care who saw. We were completely transfixed in each other and the weights without a thought of anything else. Oh god, I lived for this shit. I felt my body begin to expand almost from the moment I picked those sixties up. But while my change was visibly negligible, David morphed before my eyes. Within a few sets, the soft lining of his frame started to disintegrate and was replaced by the hard lines of an athlete. He was a fucking natural and his body exploded as if waiting its whole life to do so. The soft balls of his shoulders suddenly had creases along their sides. Those creases appeared to grow deeper as his shoulders grew outward. Over the hour that became two and then three, striations branched across the muscle as his skin grew taught. He screamed as he performed a final, shaking rep of curls before throwing his thirty fives to the ground and giving the mirror most muscular. Lats, invisible a moment before, were suddenly protruding from his ribs. He hadn’t even worked that muscle group out yet. Soft thirteen inch arms were now pumped fifteen inchers covered with the faint outline of muscle-feeding veins. “Give me a spot,” David ordered as he lifted a pair of nineties off the rack next to me. Without objecting to who ordered who around here, I stood behind him on the incline bench and gave him a lift to the starting position of an inclined press. He cried out as he let the weights fall and I worried he was going to break himself. But he caught them just in time and his arms shook in epileptic jerks as he tried (unsuccessfully) to push them back up. I put my hands under his elbows and started to push. “Fuck you!” he screamed through short, desperate breaths. I pulled my hands away and watched in awe as his shaking arms slowly started to make upward progress. The flat chest rising up above his low collar suddenly started to swell, first in thin sinews which each expanded outward until two pectoral bulges defined themselves on either size of an increasingly deepening rift. Finally, his shaking arms finished the rep. I moved to relieve him of the weights but he drove me away with a stare. Again he let the weight fall. This pecs stretched like an overlapping pile of cables. Then he pushed the weight up again. And again and again. He roared as punched out another half dozen reps as blinding speed before finally letting the weights fall and drop to the ground with a crash. David bounced up from the deck. “Yeah!” he screamed at the mirror and gave it a most muscular. His triceps had balled up into dense horseshoes and those faint veins were now bulging on his arms. His pecs were a dark red on his pale skin and looked like a mountain range. He turned and surprised me by punching me in the gut. I flexed my abs before the second one landed. “These-fucking-squeezes-are-fucking-incredible,” he yelled, each word punctuated by a jab on my wall of abdominal muscles. By the time he was done, the punches had actually started to hurt. Breathless and crazed, David stepped back, hands still balled into fists. His increasingly defined shoulders and now bulging chest rose and fell with each deep breath. His arms looked ready to explode, they were so pumped. Any semblance of baby fat had melted from his frame. I was slightly jealous to admit that he was now better looking than me. The lines on his face were perfect. He didn’t seem to notice or care. “I’m hungry,” he said, quietly for a change. I could only oblige. I was famished myself. If I ate like a pig, he ate like a titan. I found myself full after about ten pounds of food but he made it through most of his bag before finally finishing. Gut protruding as grossly as when we arrived, David started making his to the locker room door. “Uh, David?” I said carefully. David turned, eyes glazed like a stoner. I had to take a mental step back. The soft 180 pound kid from the morning had completely transformed. He was now a 200 pound ball of muscle. He filled out his sleeveless top in all the right places. Sweat-sheened boulders popped out of each sleeve and capped swollen arms too swollen with blood-gorged muscle to be called cut. The cleavage of his upper chest ran like a canyon from his collar to the nape of his neck and well-formed traps seemed to pull his neck wider. His dazed eyes grew questioning and I shook myself from my stupor. I pointed at the tent in his pants. “You may want to take care of that,” I said with a grin. “Else it will take care of itself at a more inopportune time.” David looked down, shrugged and found himself a stall. Without closing the door, he dropped his gym pants and started jerking off. A second later, he looked over his shoulder. “A little privacy?” I laughed, stood up, and left the locker room. I was still more than half again his size but couldn’t shake David’s perfection. A moment later I was staring at own reflection, taking in what 335+ pounds of solid muscle looked like. There probably wasn’t a specimen like me anywhere on the planet. I took the rest of the room in, comparing myself to them. They were ants. I flexed my arms and watched the twenty something inch boulders grow and grow and grow. I got back to working out and was three sets in before David and his swollen gut returned from the bathroom. “Shy testicles?” I asked jokingly. “Let’s get back to work,” he said stoically. While the adrenaline was somewhat diminished for me, it was still bulldozing through him. He moved from one exercise to another with no rest. David continued to expand. I guess I was as well. My pump was incredible and it I felt myself getting wider in every direction. David was finding it increasingly difficult to constructively express the fury boiling inside of him. Aside from punching me with increasingly punishing swings of his fist, he would grab immobile objects like weight machines and try bending them in half. Those working out in the gym with us became gawkers as the scene became increasingly violent. I was left with moments of peace only during his frequent jerkoff breaks. But each time he returned, it was always with an increased fervor I couldn't explain. Awe turned into nervousness as David grew increasingly strong. Although still a runt compared to me, his strength exceeded his size by a large margin and I had to make him stop punching my stomach. There was little doubt it would be a wall of purple the next morning. And he wasn’t slowing down. Four hours after we first got there, I found myself as part of the crowd just watching the show. Surely, his body would slow down soon. I hadn’t been that crazed had I? I was pretty sure that I was able to contain myself during those “low dose” workouts. It wasn’t until I started really upping the amount I was consuming. And David had only taken a gulp or to more than I had this morning. Hadn’t he? David roared and threw the 120 pound dumbbell he was using at the floor as if spiking a football. The impact left a crack in the foamed padding that I knew must extend to the concrete below. Every eye was on my new protégé as he paced maniacally in a small circle, eyes crazed and posture drunk with power. Sweat bled through his top, the damp fabric glued to his bulging body like wallpaper. His slowly expanding shoulders and chest heaved as he gasped for enough breath to fuel his next set. It was hard to tell if the writhing muscle beneath his skin was just twitching or if they were growing before my eyes. That was when he noticed me, with his head turned and eyes looking over his shoulder. Those sapphire eyes, sharp and clear and menacing. Then his lips curled in a faint smirk. Beneath those darkening eyes, that cocky grin spoke to me through a bull horn and a cool wind suddenly brushed against my newly clammy skin. Oh no. I turned and raced to the locker room and threw open my locker. There, among the empty coffins of food I never ate was my gym bag. And in the gym bag was my water bottle. And in the water bottle was barely enough water to cling to a finger tip. Suddenly the world was no longer in my control. I turned and like a zombie made my way back into the weight room, empty bottle in my hand. I passed the gym manager as he practically begged his two biggest trainers to do something to stop this growing monster. The two obviously wanted no part in it. The man turned to me, noticing my size, and started pleading with me instead. I walked by without hearing a word. I stepped to the two dozen other students, now staring at the rabid beast doing pull-ups with 135 pounds of plates hanging from his belt. His lats flared like demon wings from beneath arms as dense as stone. His top was now straining to contain his ever growing girth. An obscene growth bounced in his shorts with every lift, hardly camouflaged beneath an ever widening stain. Rep after rep after rep. He roared with fury and the bars holding him bent as he jerked himself up over and over again. Yes, I was bigger. But his eyes held a power mine never did. And within him was a seed that would grow into something that would make me a speck of dust to him. And he'd fed it with all the food we brought with us that morning. When he looked at me again, the smirk became a smile that only showed his teeth. He had played me for a fool. And I had played along. Before I knew it, I was backing up and then racing for the front door. I was as big as anyone had ever been. But never had I felt so small. * * * I ran from the parking lot up the grassy beach to my brother's dorm, mind racing. I was about to let a maniac loose on the campus; one powerful enough to treat its entirety like a personal punching bag. I still had the empty bottle in my hands. He’d practically taken a whole pill. I’d done the same but wasted most of it by rubbing on my skin. And I’d gained well over a hundred pounds. What was to become of David? The rock music still blasted from the dorm basement as I made my way around it and to the entryway door. It wasn't until I nearly slammed into a Sonny's BBQ delivery guy making his way out that I was shaken from my thoughts. He looked up at me just as the Chinese food delivery guy from the morning had. Only the sight of me didn't put him in utter awe this time. He was in awe already; the sentiment was already buried in his eyes. His dazed expression didn't even notice me. I let him by without a comment. Puzzle pieces were now snapping together and forming a picture in my mind. As the picture grew clear, I scolded myself for not seeing it sooner. But even the brightest of light is invisible to those not looking at it. Heart pounding, I took a hesitant step down the stairs towards the blasting music. Half a level down, I passed the infamous janitor closet from the semester before. I turned and made my way the down final half level to the Powers Gym doors. Behind them, partially hidden under the notes, were the telltale sounds of metal crashing and men grunting. Peeking through the split between the doors yielded a narrow view which gave little away. Shadows danced with the light but that was all. The proximity did let me make out voices. The closest one, although unintelligible, sounded familiar. Something is different, McKenzie had told me the night before as she dozed off. Why had I thought of that? I took hold of the door handle and turned it ever so slowly, hoping the boom of the music and the clank of steel would overpower the cries of rusty hinges. I had dreamed that night too. I heard voices in the darkness, whispering, plotting. What that a figment of my mind or did I overhear something in the hallway as I slept? I heard the dull click of the door latch releasing and slowly pushed the door forward an inch. Then two. The shadows became figures. I pushed the door open an inch more. He’s massive and said he can show us how, the voice in my dream had said. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Giants roamed the basement of Powers Hall. There was no other way to describe them. There were three figures that I could see. Their heads were mere centimeters from the ceiling and their frames made mine look…average. Arms the size of watermelons picked up bars loaded to capacity with rusty 45 pound plates and curled them with ease. Their biceps swelled like balloons to the size of a man’s waist. Shoulders as big as the 45 pound plates boiled with every movement and themselves were mere baubles compared to backs with muscle upon muscle upon muscle that stepped up to the base of their skulls and fell like sides of beef to narrow yet ripped waists. They were naked. Clothes their size would be rare. They were obviously relishing their new bodies. Their striated asses were granite boulders atop thighs as wide as a normal man’s upper torso. Their calves alone were the size of basketballs. I couldn’t take my eyes away. They could have broken me in half. How? Then a forth figure stepped into the light. He held an entire roasted chicken in his giant hand and tore off a quarter of it with his teeth, not caring if the bite included bones. I saw—his legs! They were inhuman. Ten seconds ago I thought my body was the epitome of human size. Then those three monsters proved just how much more the human body was capable of. Now, this god of a human stretched the horizon even further. I don’t know if I could have gotten my arms around either leg but it would be close nonetheless. Veins ran like rivers over the mountains of his quads. They made it hard for me to breathe. His upper body was beyond anything I’d seen but paled in comparison to those titan legs. My eyes trailed up to his face but I knew who I’d see. That mop of hair. The recessed chin. Those sharp eyes. The guy who’s legs had always far outpaced the rest of him. It was Cody. Dorky Cody. The same Cody who literally looked up to me, eyes hungry and himself feeling small in my presence. And look at him now. “Well those didn’t last long,” Cody said as he swallowed the last of the chicken. His voice boomed over the music. He had to duck just to keep his head from hitting the ceiling. “Rick, you’re up. I’m thinking pizza again. A dozen larges.” The other three laughed as one got his phone out and the others returned to their weights. Cody just watched his friends relishing in his dominion. His left hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it caressed his own body from upper chest down to upper thigh and back. I found myself wanting to touch it too. Suddenly my two inch window opened completely and I found myself falling forward. “Well look who I found,” a voice boomed overhead. I looked up from my knees and found myself inches away from a man’s crotch, his meat dangling like a grandfather clock pendulum. I looked up further across deep cascades of abs and around a pair of pecs that hung like crags from his chest. Above those slabs was Rick’s face staring down at me, phone pressed to his ear. My face grew red. My heart raced as the others hooted from the other side of the gym. Suddenly the music was off and I was surrounded. Rick just laughed and sauntered off through the doors to the base of the stairs, putting in their pizza order. One of the others put his arm around my shoulders. He felt like a molten rock against me. His skin was hot and slick with sweat. He smelled of iron and musk. The sturdiness of him made me feel pudgy by comparison. “You must be Ryan,” he said as he squeezed me. “Your brother isn’t going to be happy about this, is he?” I knew that voice. It was deeper and more powerful now but two days ago I’d heard it. I was in the shower and heard him talking to his friend about how small he was. Aaron? Joe? I didn’t have time to think about it before Cody stepped up to me. My eyes barely reached the others’ nose but they only made it to Cody’s Adam’s apple, putting him over 8 feet tall. Up close, with the overhead lights spilling down over his shoulders and setting off his body in light and shadow, he looked even bigger. I gulped. He smiled. “Hey there Ryan,” he said with his head bent down to avoid breaking through the concrete ceiling. “Surprised to see us?” He stepped back and raised his arms in a double bicep that even made his friends gasp. “How?” was all I could muster. The three of them laughed and Cody dropped his arms. “Awe, Ryan. What’s the fun in giving that away when you're sure to find out yourself?” he asked as he reached down and picked up a pair of gym shorts from the ground. After searching the pockets, he dropped the shorts and held the contents in his closed fist. “People will notice,” I heard myself say, instantly wincing. That resulted in even more laughter. Rick entered the room and threw his phone back on the pile of clothes. Cody stepped back up and I was again encircled by these monsters. “Of course they’ll notice. The whole world will notice.” He held out his hand and I looked down. “But not yet, right? We’re only just beginning.” I looked down and saw four of the muscle pellets looking like sand colored tic-tacs in his giant hands. The breath rushed from my lungs. They only laughed harder as Cody gave each of his friends a pill, leaving the last for himself. “Bottoms up, boys,” Cody said and the four of them each swallowed an entire pellet. My brain went into overload and I took a step back, hitting a brick wall that was Aaron or Joe. Rick held his palms against each other and started pumping his arms as if expecting to watch them grow before his eyes. Maybe they were. All four were suddenly and passionately fixated on each other's body. I ducked under Cody and raced to the door, letting their laughter chase me into the stairwell. “You should have shared!” I heard Cody yell from the gym as I continued my race up the stairs. Two flights later, I burst into my brother’s dorm room and started grabbing my things and stuffing them into my duffle bag. I had to get out of here. Let Rhys figure this shit out. Hell, I’ll leave him a couple of my pellets for good measure. The pellets. I stopped and turned to the desk. Two steps brought me to the drawer. I opened it and the world grew cold. Maybe you should start locking your door, McKenize had once told him. The drawer held only dust. The mystery was solved but I felt no relief. I backed away from the desk, hands grabbing chucks of hair on either side of my head. What was I to do? Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. McKenzie? Cody? My brother? “Who’s there?” I heard myself say, voice shaky and trodden. I was answered only by another knock. Firmer this time. I stepped to the door and turned the knob. Behind it was the last person I expected or wanted to see. Standing in the door frame, starting at me with eyes cold with anger, was Dr. Powers. He spoke with barely hidden disdain. "We have a problem, don't we?" CHAPTER 12 Dr. Powers slipped by me as if he owned the room. “Shut the door,” he ordered. I obliged then turned to face him, finding the greying man standing in the middle of the room with his hands held thoughtfully behind his back. He stared at me through cold blue eyes. I returned a glare just as cold and prepared to stand my ground. The events of the previous few hours put me in no mood to be lectured by a man I could crush with one hand. Although nearing sixty by the look of his face, he was still an impressive figure by normal standards and filled out his clothes well. Silver lined his temples while a thick and neatly combed salt-pepper mix covered the rest. His eyes were a sharp and clear blue; a bombardier’s eyes that spoke of a dark intelligence within. They searched my body mechanically and with purely scientific interest. His demeanor was harsh. He stood perhaps six feet tall and could have weighed two hundred pounds. It was hard to tell exactly through the suit he was wearing. “What do you want?” I boomed and crossed my arms before me, letting my chest flair and arms swell. I was a giant compared to him: my nearly seven foot tall body bulging with muscle upon muscle capable of bending him in half. He had to sense the disparity even if his face remained flat. “Impressive,” the doctor stated mechanically as his eyes searched my frame. Once satisfied, his steely gaze shifted from my leg to my eyes. “How do you feel? Heart issues? Back pain? Joint problems? Bones feel strong? Are you urinating regularly-“ “I’m fine,” I said, a little taken aback by his choice of topics. “Good,” he said as he stepped towards me. Everything happened so fast. One second I was towering over him, his eyes level with my sternum. Then he revealed something hidden behind his back. Then there was pain. So much pain. The world rolled before my eyes. I tried to resist, to fight. Something slammed against my back. I heard a crash. Confused and dazed, I looked up to see Dr. Powers standing over me with a black metal pole in his hand. He stepped over me as I tried in vain to get up. My muscles only spasmed uselessly. “Why” dribbled from my lips. Without a word, the doctor stabbed at me with the black pole. There was a hissing sound as I was wracked with a pain double that of the first. I tried to scream but the world went black before I could open my mouth. * * * I heard voices, garbled voices, as if I were overhearing a conversation under water. My head hurt and that feeling of cotton stuffed between my ears was back in force. It was the dazed and confused feeling I’d had each time I woke up after…wait…Had I taken another pill? My heart leaped. How big was I now? Wait, that wasn’t right. This feeling was different. Something was wrong. I opened my eyes and was greeted by a blurred world. There was movement. A tall shape and a short shape. They were only dark talking blobs. And they were both taller than me…wait. No. I was looking at them from the ground. I tried to raise my head and was terrified to discover I couldn’t move it. Panic boiled in my gut. I tested my legs again, then my arms, my fingers. Nothing. I tried to yell for help but only a negligible gurgle came out. The panic cleared my mental fog like a wildfire. Dr. Powers! He’s here. He…tazed me! I tried again to move but all was in vain. All I could do was try to blink away the blur. And listen. “You need his blood, Ben,” I heard Dr. Powers’ voice say. “But the anesthesia is swimming in there too. It attacks the nervous system quickly, though, so he’ll take the brunt of it. You will likely only be put in a light sleep.” “No matter,” I heard a frail yet determined voice respond. “My god he is a specimen.” A pause. “Rick, he’s waking up!” The rising panic in the frail man’s voice was not mirrored by Powers. “Well look whose back,” he said as his slowly sharpening form moved over me. I finally blinked the blur away to reveal those cold blue eyes staring at me from above. Rage filled me as I fought against those invisible chains which bound by body. I could hear a growl begin in my gut and felt my head start to swing ever so slightly side-to-side, but that was the physical extent of my rage. Dr. Powers laughed and turned his attention to a metal pole rising from somewhere over my head. It appeared to be an IV stand and attached to it was a giant bag of clear, yellowish liquid. “Let’s just up the dose a bit,” he said as he fiddled with something out of my eyesight. I rolled my eyes down and that’s when I noticed the tubes. A half dozen were jutting out from my still massive form. Two held the clear liquid and entered in at my wrist. Four others were filled with a deep crimson liquid which could only have been my blood. Those tubes were as thick as drinking straws and erupted from the meatiest part of each arm and thigh. Suddenly my body felt cold and those invisible chains grew tighter. What limited movement I had suddenly disappeared. I looked back up at Dr. Powers and saw he was done fiddling with the IV. Now I could only stare at my captors with cold hate. As Powers finished with the IV, the second figure waited patiently from a wheelchair. He was ancient, well over eighty. He also looked incredibly familiar. He wore pressed slacks and a white, buttoned dress shirt that hung on his bony frame like a curtain. His cloudy eyes had intensity but the face they were planted in sagged like a deflated balloon. Most of his scalp was mottled with dark spots. What little hair he owned either blobbed like weeds on his brow or fell in scattered strands from scalp to his neck. He stared at me with obvious hunger. Finished with the IV, Powers turned back and stared over me, eyes searching. I looked down at my useless body. I was where I had fallen, giant legs sprawled on the floor and my torso lying on my brother’s mattress. The frame of the bed had collapsed as I fell on it and I found myself partially sitting, mostly lying on both the floor and bed. I was surprised to find that I was naked. I forced my eyes back on Dr. Powers, and found myself locked in his gaze. “You ready to give back what you borrowed?” he asked. Without a pause, he turned back to the familiar man in the wheelchair. “Come on up, Ben. Let’s get you on the bed.” As he gingerly helped the elderly man to his feet and guided him to my brother’s roommate’s bed, I wracked my brain to remember who he was. I’d seen those eyes, that face. Even the wheelchair. Whoever he was, he kept staring at me with those hungry eyes. What did he want from me? “We hoped this wouldn’t be necessary, boy,” Powers said after he laid his friend down. He then bent down a picked up four thick clear tubes. I looked back at my body and saw four similar tubes stick in each thigh and the meatiest part of each arm. A quick scan revealed that my blood-filled tubes ran into small machine before emerging empty on the other side and were now being inserted into similar parts of the old man’s body. “You’ll be okay, Ben,” he said tenderly. “When you wake up you will be a new man.” With that, he turned on the machine separating my tubes from Ben’s and suddenly the blood on my side rushed into Ben’s side and entered his body. The man groaned as his gaze held mine. Then his eyes grew heavy his breathing feeble. After a moment, they closed. I turned my attention back to Dr. Powers, who was already staring at me. “Don’t judge me, boy,” he said with a sneer. “You should be down in the Bahamas with your pretty-boy roommate. It’s not my fault you stumbled on this little secret.” He turned and started making his way around the room, which I only now realized was trashed. Every drawer was open with contents thrown haphazardly onto the floor. “I made this medication for us, but they need a young man’s body to work. Truth be told, it was your roommate who seemed the best fit for this experiment. A half dozen pills only gave me an extra twenty pounds. For Ben Fitz here they were useless. But for you…” his eyes flickered to my body. “Well, let’s say we didn’t expect them to work so well. How many did you take? Five? Six? All of them?” He didn’t wait for a response he knew I was unable to provide. How surprised would he be to discover I’d taken only one? Dr. Powers continued to search the room for any pills I’d saved. His search was interrupted as a crash shook the room and was followed by a herd of thunderous voices. Their laugher boomed through the door and their footsteps made the ground shake. My breath caught. The boys from the basement had emerged and, by the sound of things, were much bigger than the giants I’d run away from earlier today. The torrent of sound erupting from them audibly made its way down the hallway, leaving Dr. Powers in what only could be called a stupor. As the sound faded down the hall, Powers made his way to the door. He opened it and peeked towards the chaos. Upon seeing the scene out of my eyeshot, his jaw dropped. “My god,” he whispered. Without another word he gathered his things and bolted from the room, closing and locking the door behind him. Now it was only this mysterious Ben Fitz and myself, connected by some blood machine what was…what? Going to make him younger? He appeared to be the same old geezer I saw sitting in the wheelchair when I— Suddenly the memory came flooding back. Ben Fitz. The Fitz Mafia…this crusty old man was the honorary mascot of my brother’s workout group. The pieces were slowly fitting together. I felt my heart race in its paralyzed body. Dr. Powers and Dr. Fitz were the co-authors of the paper I found on gene therapy. And the tenants of this dorm were their lab rats. Both had their eyes all over this place. A groan shook me from my thoughts. Although still wispy, it was stronger than the frail and shaking voice I’d heard from Fitz so far. He was still the old man. Yet… Didn’t his shirt once sit on him like a tent? Although still oversized, there was definitely a form under that fabric; not just a skeleton with skin. Had his face filled out a bit? A gloom bubbled across my consciousness as the consequences became clear. I looked at my own body. It was still the superhuman form I’d come to expect but…was it getting smaller? As the minutes ticked by, my hunch became fact. I could feel my muscles slowly drain as my blood pumped into a growing Ben Fitz. As his chest filled the shirt and the skin on his face regained its youth, my body slowly but surely began shrinking away. I did not want to lose this body! Panic-stricken, I fought against the paralytic drug with everything I had. All I had to do was shake the IV free. More muscle draining minutes wore by with no progress. Then I heard the sagging mattress groan. It must be working. I fought harder and harder against those chemical bounds. More groaning. Shrinking or not, I was still over three hundred pounds propped against this shattered bed. A few more rocks and… Crash! The frame gave its final death cry and collapsed completely. I fell awkwardly, my entire body now lying on the floor. A quick scan sank my heart as I realized that not only was the IV still firmly attached to my wrists (and neck!), the draining tubes were as well. To make matters worse, I could no longer see Dr. Fitz. All I saw were the tell-tale tubes reaching up from the machine of the floor and disappearing over the corner of the mattress. Exhausted, paralyzed, and now blind to what was happening, I felt resignation seep into me. Minutes turned into hours and I could only watch as my crumpled body began to wither away. The definition and vascularity remained but the size mysteriously disappeared. In turn, I heard the sporadic moans escaping Ben Fitz’s mouth grow deeper and stronger. More than once, the bed groaned beneath his ever increasing weight as he stole it from me. Arms as big as a womans waist withered: 26 inches, 25, 24, 23. The sides of beef that made up my chest deflated like a balloon. The deep canyons of my 40 inch thighs grew shallow. I closed my eyes, unable to witness the slow, inevitable return to my once scrawny self. Footsteps. A familiar voice. I opened my eyes as the door knob rattled. I must have dozed off, only this time the memory of what had happened remained stuck in my brain like shards of glass. I immediately looked down at my body. Once one of the most powerful specimens on the planet, it now looked very similar to the healthy yet narrow frame I began the week with. Only now my skin seemed to hang off me and puddle around my body. Although still a body many would kill for, the sight of it only made me want to sob. All that power. Gone. Only then did I notice the giant, vascular arm hanging over the side of the bed in front of me. A striated bowling ball shoulder, an equally impressive upper arm, and a bulging forearm mapped with sinew, veins and muscle. It was Dr Fitz and he was now overflowing the bed. I could see the top of his mountainous chest when it rose with every strong, deep breaths. He was the giant now. How long had I been out? Late afternoon light beamed through the window. The doorknob rattled again, which would have made me jump had I not been paralyzed. Dr. Powers was back. Now that I was drained, I was useless to him. What would he do to me? My breath got stuck in my throat as the door opened. An impressive figure strolled into the room but it wasn't Dr Powers. It was my brother.

So lately, we've really hit the weights hard. As I've said, I've been growing all over thanks to her help. I've been getting taller, thicker, and stronger. And she joins me. We do full body work outs daily. We spend about 6 hours at the gym a day. Even after the gym, we do post work-out work-outs. What we do depends on how she's feeling usually, but she claims it's all part of her system. Like, sometimes, when we have a particularly good day at the gym, and my muscles are so pumped that my clothes look like they shrunk a size or two... She'll take me to her place, and make me flex as hard as I can for more than hour. On more than one occasion, after flexing like this, the pump would just...stay. Then the next work out session, I'd pump even bigger. It felt amazing. And her...She's putting on a lot of size, too. She eats even more than I do, strangely enough. It's because she doesn't want to cut. She tells me it's alternating between bulking and cutting that makes women lose their curves. And she doesn't want that. It's weird. It's like, they way she talks about working out is bro science, but she's not a bro. Sis science? It sounds just as stupid sometimes, but her results are real. She isn't getting taller, but she's certainly gaining faster than I thought a female ever could. Her strong, hard body building a soft, smooth layer of feminine curves. Her hourglass figure amplified, growing in all the right places. No matter what the work out, it always ends in sex. We sleep like, 4 hours a night. We're incredibly in sync. We both wake up, extremely aroused and full of energy. We trained our minds and bodies to their absolute peak, and with our genetics, our peaks were extremely high. But my favorite is when she'd exercise my dick. I'd sit down in my computer chair (custom made for my bulk), and after warming up my junk with a heat pad, I'd call her in, let her know I'm ready. She'd walk in, a smirk on her face. "Alright baby, are you ready? Are you ready to grow for me?" I nod. "No. Say it." "I'm ready." "Ready for what?" I struggle with my ego. She knows what. But I'm getting into the right state of mind. I must train my mind. Train it to listen to her, so it can command my body to change. "I'm ready to grow." "Yeah baby..." She's on her knees, in front of me, my giant flaccid hanging below. "Now don't get hard. You want to grow, don't you?" "Yes." "All you have to do is listen to me...focus on my voice." She said, her eyes never looking away from mine. Our primal urges fighting for dominance. "Just listen to me...and obey..." I say nothing. "Trust everything that I say." She says, as she grabs the head of my penis, and pulls it downward, stretching it. It feels great. It's like stretching a muscle...but not...it's my penis. "All you have to do is obey me, believe what I say, and trust me to make you grow so much bigger...." I start to get hard. "No..." She says softly, biting her lip, as she resisted the sexual urge as well. "Control it. It's YOUR penis. It's YOUR body. It's YOUR mind. If you aren't in control, who is? Stay soft..." She said. It was difficult, sitting in front of an entity that seemed to be created to simply appease my sexual interests. but I managed, and she stretched my dick in all directions. The Flaccid length stretching further and further out each moment. "Relax...relax all the muscles in your hips...your legs...your pelvis...allow them to relax into the stretch." She said, no longer looking at me, but looking at my penis, wrapping it over her forearm and pulling down on it. "Command the cells in your penis to grow...Send the message from your brain, down your spine, out through the nerves all around in and inside your penis...grow..." I've never been this turned on in my life. after a series of stretches, she pulled it straight out. It took every bit of my willpower to not get erect at the sight. Her strong arms pulling my dick longer than I'd ever seen it, even erect. "My my..." She said. "This must be a new record." Her large chest heaved up and down in arousal, but she calmed her breath. "But this is nothing...right?" I said nothing, trying to fight the erection. "Right?" She said, looking up at me. "Right." I said, hypnotized. "Then tell it to stretch out even longer..." She commanded. I obeyed. "Believe it will happen, put all of your faith into it. Ignore all doubt, and feel it..." I saw her hand move further away. "Feel it stretching even longer..." Another tiny bit, my dick stretched longer. "Feel every cell divide..." I stretched longer. "From the base..." A bit longer. "Up the shaft..." She pulled a bit harder, and it stretched even further, to it's max. She held it there for a few moments, her smirked returned. When she let go, it fell limp. She grabbed it from underneath, and shook it a little. "Haha, look at it! It's huge!" She was right. I was always a grower. While my flaccid size was always very impressive, I grew significantly. Now, I was longer than I had ever been. It looked like an salami that needed to be diced up for proper distribution. I fought the erection again, but this time, she said "Let it happen, get hard for me, big guy, let's see what I'm working with." It was like a damn has collapsed, as blood poured into my dick. It shocked both of us, as it jumped off her hand, and assumed it's upward trajectory into it's fully erect state. It exploded in thickness, but it's length remained relatively unchanged...unchanged as in, still longer than I've ever seen it. "Wow baby...You're gonna get so fucking huge..." She said. And I obeyed.

I've always been a big guy. In my childhood, I always took pride that I was the biggest. Even before puberty. I was always the tallest kid in my grade. Whenever my fellow 8 year old kids would gather round and compare bicep sizes, I always won. I mean, I was humbled a bit by middle school, when some of the girls got taller than me before I hit puberty. It depressed me a bit, to be honest. So when I hit my massive growth spurt, my height surpassing them, and everyone else (including adults) by 8th grade, I loved it. In high school, my ego reached critical mass, as a freshman, I was taller than all but 2 seniors. I loved it when 4 months into high school, I surpassed them. Now, getting that tall, that fast, I did look kinda scrawny. But my muscles started building up quickly. I wasn't even doing any extra working out at first. Just playing football or basketball with my friends. It wasn't until I joined the football team in 10th grade that I started lifting. And my body loved it. My muscles were growing so big, so fast, I was getting stretching marks on my arms, back, and thighs. My senior year, when I was 18, I had become famous in my small suburban town. While girls adored me, most of them were too inexperienced to be able to handle the size of my penis (which also had stretch marks from rapid growth). So when I went away to college, I met a 25 year old grad student. Her name was Sarah. Now, I loved my size. I loved ducking through doors. I loved how my shoulders were too broad for some doors. I loved how no matter what I wore, you could easily see the outline of my giant genitals. When I hit my head on things, I'd smirk while in pain, thinking how I was too big for this society. But Sarah...was obsessed. I was still growing, but slowly. She was insatiable, and the only girl who could handle my size. She was a big woman, too. Not chubby or anything. No, but tall, curvy, she liked to workout too. She studied all sorts of biology and holistic herbs and stuff like that. She was on a journey to get as big as possible, and she swore she made her breasts and butt bigger using exercise, herbs, and meditative techniques. I was skeptical, but also, didn't really care. She was hot and able to handle me. We both had endless sexual energy. When we first started dating, we had sex for 3 days straight, getting food delivered, and calling off work. We tried to see if we even had a limit, but we could only avoid real life for so long. But when she offered to help me get even bigger...I still remained skeptical. Herbs? Meditation? Some other hippy bullshit? Come on, now. I wanted to stay natural. But sometimes, I would see before and after pictures of men who used steroids. I was still bigger than them! Imagine, if I took them...I'd become... She slapped me when I brought this up to her. My health wasn't worth the risk. She insisted, as always, when we returned to everything after we die, we can live out all our dreams, but it was our responsibility to take care of our health in this state we exist in. There was some other hippy shit she said, too, but whatever. She suggested we try her techniques first, and if I wasn't satisfied, we explore other options. To my surprise, her combination of pills, food, yoga, weightlifting, meditation, and hypnosis had speed up my growth. My muscles didn't seem to be growing as fast as they would be if I used steroids, but I was getting taller faster. And even my dick and balls were growing...something that hasn't happened over the past 2-3 years. Then, she started exercising my dick. She'd stretch it. She'd jelq it. She'd work it out for me. And it would get sore. And it grew. and grew. and grew. Jesus Christ, did it grow. I'll give you the exact details of my favorite session. Stay tuned for the next, and final part.

So there are lots of ways we god stock make money. We sell our sperm/eggs. We make public appearances at fancy clubs and bars. Do talk shows. Some of us have reality shows (but those are B list god stock). Most of us just do some web chatting, and the money pours in. One time I made 2 months worth of bills and expenses in just 2 hours of watching classic early TV on camera in my boxers. Anyway, today is what I like to call an off day. It's my favorite kind of day. All devoted to my own pleasures and my own pampering to help me get even bigger and sexier. I wake up at 5 am, as usual, getting my normal 4 hours of sleep I need a night. It's always the same thing that wakes me up. It's my throbbing erection. It's my own personal alarm clock. Remember, I have the best sexual genes to ever walk this planet. I have full control of my erections...when im conscious. My 5 o clock boner seriously feels like it's going to rip out of my skin. Thats due to a combination of how hard I am, and how fast I'm growing. It curves upward like a crescent, it's base firmly rooted into my pelvic floor, which I flex, forcing my erection to even harder stature. I wanted to jack off right then and there. But I hadn't jacked off in years. I don't really need to, someone is always willing to do it for me. About 2 inches up from my massive erection hangs my obscene testicles, slowly shifting up and down by their own accord. Giant, soft spheres are pure manliness ejecting wave after wave after wave of testosterone through my body. I can literally feel the hormone pulsing through my veins. Most of it shooting up my shaft, which swells larger and thicker due to the feeling. It's intense. More intense than it's ever been. I took a deep breath and relaxed, my shaft softened slightly. It was hard to resist, but I didn't want to waste any time here. I feel the orange sized head tap the bottom of my right rib, and I start getting hard again. This was strange for 2 reasons. First, I've been able to control my erections (again, while awake) since I first had them. Second, the head never reached that high up my long torso. Those of you that do you silly, outdated and ancient exercise techniques might get this feeling...You know when you walk past a mirror after not really paying attention to your body for a week or two, and you are shocked by how much size you put on? I instantly jumped up, and looked at my wall-mirror (that's a wall that's entirely a mirror) and that's what I felt. but this was more than it's ever been. My heart races. I was already in the top 10 biggest god stock in the world, and I was only 19. I was already told I still have about a decade of growth left! Jesus, I was going to be a legend for years to come until one of my descendants over takes me. I wanted to flex and look at myself in the mirror. But again, I couldn't waste time. All human stock have about the same life expectancy (except military stock, poor guys), and I didn't want to waste my short 150 years on this planet not sharing myself with the world. I headed to my basement, with my personal scholar stock. Being the best of the best, I had the best resources available to me. These guys have the best training, best technology, and best intelligence around. It took them a while, but they were able to pinpoint how I had managed to get some scholar stock in me, which prevented me from being as dim witted as my fellow god stock. But anyway, every day, several times a day, I came down here for my dose. You see, this most god stock have a system like this, as we do have plenty of money. We get it early on in our lives, and it basically directly inject you with a perfect, organic cocktail of nutrients and vitamins and minerals. All things our science knows aid humans in growth and fertility. I sit my giant bulk into the seat. The nerds..er...I mean...scholars, begin taking my vitals and attaching wires to me. They start with my right arm, attaching them to my massive bicep and triceps. These will send electrical currents in patterns that simulate the brain's signal to grow. Watching their tiny hands work around my next-step-in-human-evolution arms is funny. The female one looks cute, but I like to try to keep my seed within god stock. I don't want to corrupt any other stock, especially scholar stock. If it wasn't for them, I'd never be able to be as big as I am. They had to walk up step ladders to attach the electrodes to my neck, head, and jaw. They literally climbed around me like worker ants scurrying along the queen. Except for the gross insect part and that I'm a dude. The girl attachs an electrode to the tip of my penis. She smirks a bit, and tries to hide it. Scholar stock are very professional. Catching one smirk while working is incredibly rare, even for me. "Can you get erect for me, sir." She asks. I wink, but don't get a smirk out of her again. My giant flaccid begins to rise higher and higher, and she watches intently, with a lack of emotion on her face at all. The thing is, scholar stock are great at hiding their emotions. But the OTHER thing is, god stock are great at sensing sexual attraction, stimulation, and arousal. She couldn't hide it from me. Even though scholar stock weren't the most attractive bunch, their women were able to handle my giant cock better than balanced women. The nutrients flow into my veins, literally feeding and fueling my size and growth. The electrodes turn on. The hypnotic suggestion device begins whispering into the speaker chips in my ear, convincing my body to grow and grow. God, I love this. Balanced humans find this machine better than sex. They get addicted to it and it sometimes ruins lives. So it's a regulated market. But god stock are so hyper sexual, that our orgasms and sensitive parts are amplified way beyond anything balanced humans could even feel. Our minds can handle such intense emotions, but balanced humans can't. Well, most can't. I could see my muscles throbbing and pulsing. I could feel my bones lengthening. I could feel more and more blood forcing itself into my erection. I could feel my balls swell larger and larger as they grew more efficient, the cells stimulated beyond anything the natural world could create. God...I was growing. I fucking loved when this happened. I willed myself to grow faster, bigger, strong, more sexual and powerful. This has happened only 2 times before, where I could actually see my size increase. It's a rare, but well documented, phenomena. I have tied for the record amount of times this has happened to sometime. And all 3 times, it has happened in the last year alone. I get even more turned on, somehow get harder, and bigger. I grit my teeth, clench my hands, and curl my toes. The feeling was intense. I could feel the flow of nutrients pick up speed, flowing faster into my veins, as the nano machines in my body quickly added protein to my muscles, calcium to my bones, and fatty acids wherever it needed to go. It felt like there was a pressure pushing outward from inside my cock, as each cell divided, grew to maturation, and divided again. layer upon layer of meat appeared throughout my body on top of my frame. My frame was pushing outward, widening and lengthening to hold more muscle. The problem with this system is that it stops on it's own instantly and out of nowhere. Everything could still go, but the body just ignores it, and all positive feeling ends immediately. I was about to jizz right then and there until it stopped. "Sir, you've added more to mass in this session than any previous session ever recorded!" All the dorks...I mean...ah whatever. All the dorks cheered. This was the first time I saw them react like this. It was actually kind of funny. They are cool dudes, but it's hard to get them to come out of their shells. They cheers because setting a record meant they'd get published, and more pay, and it looks great on their resumes. Anyway, I got a text, telling my my first lady of the day arrived. I buzzed her in and she entered the basement. Remember when I said most balanced humans couldn't handle this device? Well, she could. She could handle it amazingly for a balanced human. The thing is, she could handle a lot of things most balanced humans couldn't. She was, afterall, the number one ranked balanced human for god stock. This meant that her background was completely normal, with little or no traces of human husbandry in her ancestors, but her genes were perfect to add to god stock. What made things more complicated is that we were madly in love. And I was outgrowing her physically, but not emotionally or mentally or spiritually.

Wait a minute...where was she? The massive man was there without her? This was a first! They were inseparable! And I could see why. Literally, the two most gigantic, beautiful people I've ever seen in my life. They would work out for hours and hours. And I'd just watch...I'd watch them get pumped up from their already obscene sizes to even bigger. I swear you could watch them grow before your very eyes. They had to have an insane sex drive. You could see it in the way they looked at each other. And this was the first time he was alone! I had to make a move. Any move. I couldn't let this opportunity slip through my fingers. I followed him, thinking about what a creep I was. He went to the squat rack, and loaded weight after weight onto it. The bar bent, and still he added more and more. I walked past him, just because I wanted to get a better look. Jesus...he looked bigger than ever. He must've been a foot and a half taller than me...and I am tall for a woman. I kept trying to think of ways to start a conversation with him. I'm not good at approaching...I'm a woman! Not only that, I had to compete with his beautiful, fit, curvy, fill figured, large breasted, wide hipped, thin waist'd, strong amazonian goddess of a girlfriend. Now I'm gorgeous. but even I can't hold a candle up to her. I was the hottest girl on this campus until she showed up. I try not to hate. I try to be humble and thankful. But come on, if you saw me, even you gays would be like "Yeah, I'd hit it." I was nervous about the other sex for the first time in my life. And it didn't help that I was watching while he began doing squats. His tight tank top and shorts clung to his body, as he shifted up and down seamlessly. It was a poetic strength, something that would inspire epic tales of ancient civilizations. Something so inhuman, people would believe that the gods were involved. I'm skeptical, though. He must have some very lucky genetics. No steroids can do...this... Holy shit... His tank top...a tiny rip just appeared in the side of it. He doesn't notice though... I watched more intently, not even caring how creepy i looked anymore. Each squat, bit by bit, little by little, was making him bigger. What the fuck...this can't be possible. He was smirking. I could see it happening. He could, too. I don't even think he noticed me watching. The giant bulge in his shorts swelled outward. Oh my god, I had to look away. If I watched this happen, I was going to have wet yoga pants to contend with. But this was amazing! I had to watch! I turned back just as he loaded the weight back on the rack. He was bigger! He was taller! What the hell! No, I had to get a part of this. I don't care what part. A touch. Some sex. Some growth. Something! I walked right up to him, my mind completely blank. He looked down...way down at me. I blushed. I was intimidated. Me! I'm fucking gorgeous. he should be creaming HIS pants at the sight of ME! His scent wiped away what little thought I had in my mind. The only reason I regained my senses was knowing that I had to something, anything, to attain the desire of my primal lust. "Uh...um..." I looked around, nervously. Other people were watching him, too. Now I was a part of the spectacle. It just made things worse. Say something! Anything, you idiot! He's just a man, don't let him have this power over you! "Yes?" he said, slightly annoyed, slightly intrigued. I think because he didn't have his girl around to focus on, his obviously intense sexual prowess was looking for something else to dominate. And I was a distant 2nd to his girl. I paused. I shook my head, squeezed my eyes shut, and blurted out in a tone loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for others, and quickly, "I saw you grow I want you I want to grow I want you to grow more please take me take me or ill cry and cry and cry and it'll be your fault for making a grown woman cry you asshole you dick you fucking jerk!" There was a pause. I opened my eyes, I knew that my face was bright red, out redding my brown skin. He replied, in a deep voice that only the divine could have. "Wait, what?"

Here is a story I intend to create a few chapters of. But we'll see how dedicated I am. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I pumped the weights furiously. It was literally my only outlet. I'm the oldest girl, with 3 younger brothers, and parents from the Middle East. My parents have good intentions, but they can't seem to get past the culture shock of coming to America. Everyone is a whore in their eyes, and they think I'm going to be sucked up into the endless wave of hedonism. I mean, they're probably right. When I was younger, at least. I would've been that girl that didn't learn of the consequences of my actions. But hearing all throughout my childhood, the stories my dad would tell me, the things he saw...He opened up a store in the middle of the poorest community of Detroit. While sometimes I did go to work with him, safe behind the glass, there were some really scary things that went down. The thing is, this painted the picture of all America for him. Everyone was a drug addict trying to scam you. Everyone wanted to have sex with me and throw me to the curb. And before you assume anything, religion never had anything to do with it. Luckily, college gave me some relief from their over-protection. But try as I might, the constant barrage of lessons from my parents gave me a massive fear of things like drugs and alcohol. Which is fine, I guess. But it doesn't give me much of an outlet... That's when I picked up weight lifting. I started a year ago, and never stopped. I loved watching my body change and grow. I loved gaining strength and power. I loved the flexibility, I loved being able to pull myself up and over and around anything with little effort. I move gracefully and with purpose. I got lucky, though. Over this year, not only did I put on muscle mass and lost some of my baby fat, but my curves amplified. I had a booty that black women complimented. I had to buy a whole new set of larger bras for the 4th time this year. I swear, I'm ever a little taller! But all this motivation wouldn't have started if it wasn't for them. This couple I saw at the gym almost daily. They were at the school's gym more than anyone else, and I almost always saw them there. I wanted them to notice me. I wanted them to compliment me, and bring them into their program. I wanted more than anything to be a part of their team... I pushed the weight over and over again, thinking of them. Of their size and power. Of their beauty and grace. It motivated me. It gave me the strength to push out a few more reps. My body was soaked in sweat. I was already at the gym for an hour and a half, and everytime I thought of this couple, energy just grew within me. I'm surprised they weren't here yet... I set the weights down, feeling the deep burn in my muscles. I loved that feeling. It was like an addiction to me. I glanced at the gym's door... They were here! Yes! I looked around quickly like a giddy school girl, and moved to a station closer to the door, so I can have a better view of the magnificent, giant couple...

The large 18 year old flexed in front of the full length mirror. He saw the reflection of his bearded chin smirking back at him, the top half of his head cut off from view. It seemed like each day, more and more of his face was being cut off by the ever shrinking mirror in front of him. While awesome, it didn't excite him as much as his shoulders being out of view completely in the mirror for the first time. He always stood right in the same place, admiring his body for hours. The carpet where he stood was worn away by the ever growing feet that constantly shifted and pivoted as his body struck pose after pose. "How?!" His mind would wonder. "How could I get this big? How am I still getting bigger?!" He let out a "Ha." The beginning of a laugh, as he flexed his pecs. They swelled up in front of him, each flex keeping them slightly larger than before. He always saved his pecs for last while flexing. They'd get so large, he could feel the weight of the muscle and blood on his wide rib cage. He'd never seen them so big. And he knew they were getting bigger. He could literally feel it. He could feel every cell in his body dividing. He could feel the giant breakfast he just had being turned mass for his body. He would meditate on the feeling constantly. He could feel the hormonal cycles changing throughout the day. He could feel the testosterone cycle looping. He knew exactly when he'd be growing the most while awake. His erection stuck out obscenely from between his legs. The thick base went straight outward, and began it's upward curve until the head pointed straight upward. The thickness of it felt like it would rip out of the smooth skin. Perfectly symmetrical. It did more than throb or pulse. It was so hard, that the blood flowing through it made it beat intensely to the rhythm of his circulatory system. A dick so strong, it actually helped his heart circulate blood throughout his massive body. A stirring at the bed, but the young man didn't even look away from himself. "Jesus, you look even bigger than last night." The 25 year old women in bed said. "I know..." The guy said, continuing to flex. There was a pause. "You broke your headboard..." She got up and took a better look at it. "...In half." He was momentarily shocked by feat of strength he performed without even knowing it. He thought to himself, "Is that how big and strong I am now? Jesus...and I'm gonna get even bigger?!" He smirked and everything on his body bulged slightly. "What the..." He thought to himself. His heart started racing. The girl was standing at the foot of his bed now, completely nude. While her body was amazing enough to never go unnoticed, she had to admit defeat to the part-deity standing in the same room as her. She found it hard to look away herself. She let out a small sigh of envy, wishing to have even some of the size and sexiness. She would admire her body too if she was that tall and perfectly built. "I'm gonna go freshen up, and I'll admire your body with you." She said, walking out the door. He wasn't even listening. "Did...I just..." He thought. He felt the feeling of growth all over his body. It surged well beyond it's previous intensity. He had never felt his body put so much of it's energy toward growth in his life. The feeling kept expanding inside him. He felt his bone and muscles saturated with hormones and testosterone. His skin felt tight on his body. The feeling exploded inside him, causing him to grunt slightly. His penis, harder than it has ever been, looked positively shocking to him right now. His heart started racing. The organ thumping so powerfully, the woman 2 rooms over paused over the sink, trying to deduce where the faint noise was coming from. His penis, looking bigger than it ever had before, swelled larger right before his very eyes. His muscles flexed as hard as possible against his will, but forced him into an upright and perfect posture. He could barely keep his eyes opened, as he saw his clenched jaw in the mirror, slowly moving upward. He felt his shoulders swell outward, taking his arms further away from his torso. His biceps flexed as hard as possible, and then flexed even harder somehow. His back bulged, almost forcing him to bend forward. His core and chest muscles flexed in response, keeping him at equilibrium. His legs bulged, morose than any other muscle group. Their massiveness felt like it rivaled his entire upper body. He felt like they were preparing to jump, loading more and more blood and energy into them by the second. ANd just as quickly as it began, it stopped. He looked more pumped than he ever been. He knew he was taller. And his dick was so long, his mind was having a problem process the visual of it. The mind, disbelieving that this giant member was attached to him. "Absurd!" His mind would say, in a silly accent. "Mammals do not acquire a phallus this large! Tell that fool to stop this irrational behavior at once!" He looked in the mirror. The size difference was just enough to disprove his disbelief. He had grown. He had just put on size and height. An inch here. A few inches there. But there was no denying it. Did he do it? Could he control it? Was it a genetic fluke? An abnormality? Is he going crazy? Is any of this real? Is reality real? Could philosophy and human reason ever answer if the time-space... The door opened, and the girl's "sexy face" immediately turned into a shocked face. "What the f..f...uuu...k" She said, as her fluids dripped down her freshly rinsed legs.

As he lies there, his body starts making crazy noises and is thrashing about. After about two minutes of involuntarily moving around, it goes still. A few seconds pass before the sounds of stretching and popping are heard. With his pants down to his knees his legs don’t have to worry about tearing through any fabric. His quads and hams explode in size stretching and pulling their way outwards. His cock and balls swell bigger and bigger almost shedding a layer of skin in the process. The shoes he is wearing are destroyed within seconds as his feet grow to twice their size and his calves and ankles destroy his pants and underwear that were sitting there. His cock stands up and blasts a huge jet of cum into the air as it falls and coats his body. His arms begin growing next as his forearms stretch and pull their way outward growing new branches of vessels. His biceps reach violently as they nearly come busting through the skin before his body catches up and his skin stretches in time. The small ball that was inside them before has grown into huge softballs. His lab coat begins shredding under the extreme circumstances as his shoulders and traps make quick work of it. His abs begin stretching and filling up the entire space on his stomach as his pecs blow up into giant boulders. His nipples stretch making his cock blast another jet of cum into the air. Now it moves into his head and back where his neck widens and pushes his body out further. The hair on his head falls out as his skull tightens and grows at the same time. His soft face is now firm and masculine with dimples and a square jawline. His delts stretch wider and wider as his lats explode in size. The muscles in his entire back begin pushing him off the ground as his glutes swell up and grow denser than before. The whole growth sequence takes about ten minutes and with each area of his body new life. His internal organs renew themselves and remove whatever dead or diseased tissue was on them. His cock shoots one more massive jet into the air before he starts breathing again and coughing. His eyes open and reveal a new eye color as well. His previous brown eyes are now a dark blue. He yells once he becomes aware of being alive and realizes that he needs to go take a shit. After doing so, he gets up and looks in the toilet before he flushes and sees that his body has disposed of whatever was dead inside him. He quickly flushes and looks into a mirror and sees what has happened. He grabs his face and feels its new texture and firmness. ‘What the heck….’ Realizes he has a new voice, ‘holy crap I don’t sound like me, but I am still me…..hmmm interesting. The serum obviously worked my gawd I will never have to workout again.’ Feels his enormous chest and tweaks his nipples. ‘Oh my gawd that feels incredible.’ He feels his cock react as it spills pre on the floor. ‘Interesting, my nipples are so sensitive that my cock automatically responds.’ Smiles at himself and realizes that he is attracted to the guy in the mirror. ‘Wow I am really hot now…..wait something is different here…..Amber…..oh gawd I have no feelings for her anymore.’ He turns to stare at his huge glutes and legs as he makes several bodybuilding poses that he learned from Skylar. He laughs a few times and starts to feel his entire body. ‘Well old Brian is gone obviously so I have to come up with some explanation for this. Hmmm…..well technically he is dead…..I remember everything in my life which is remarkable. I don’t love Amber anymore though, wow Skylar really did change me.’ ‘What if the serum picked up some of his DNA and plugged it into me…..fascinating. I will have to talk to him about this I suppose.’ Hennessy cleans up the mess his body made and finds a towel to put around his waist. He goes to call Albert back and realizes his voice is different so he has to come up with a story. Gibbons picks up the phone and answers. ‘Brian? Are you alright?’ ‘Brian is quite sick actually, this is his primary donor, Mason Ducati. I just happened to walk in when Brian collapsed and needed to go to the hospital.’ ‘Ohh shit, I told him not to do those experiments on himself. I would go see him, but I am in the middle of a conference. Mason, he has never mentioned you before, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had another donor since Skylar has fucked him up so well. Let me know his status okay, goodbye.’ Hennessy smiles as he hangs up. ‘I need to get some new clothes and show Skylar what he has done to me.’ After retrieving an outfit Skylar left in the lab closet, Brian leaves to return to Hamilton Tower. *Level Two at FutureTech Research* David Banner and Henry Holstein watch a report on the laptop about another award Albert Gibbons is receiving for his breakthrough in medicine. ‘I sometimes wonder if that man ever really developed that fucking serum. I’m sure that Brian is behind it, come to think of it I haven’t seen him in weeks. How is the serum coming anyway Henry?’ *sighs* ‘It is missing something I swear doctor. I’m not completely sure what is missing from it really. We have done countless tests on these freaking mice a million times and they just keep getting more violent. I mean how many have we went through in the last few weeks? A hundred? Five hundred? It just doesn’t make sense as to why they keep killing each other.’ ‘Well I trust you with this man, I have to go to a meeting myself with the board to try and get more funding for this. I will talk to you soon.’ Banner walks out of the lab area and goes into the elevator. He gets out of the elevator and walks down the ground floor corridor into one of the board rooms as his wife, Bethany Rose, walks into the elevator. She goes to level two and gets out and sees that Henry is the only one there. ‘Where is he at? He doesn’t answer his fucking phone anymore and I want to know why. We have things to talk about and the damn man doesn’t pay attention. If he wasn’t so engrossed in this damn serum he is working on, he would know that I am in charge here.’ ‘Uhh well this serum you are talking about is very important to him Beth. He can’t do it alone you know? Of course I know you think I am a peon so nothing new here.’ Beth puts her hands on her hips. ‘Well at least you know your position here dumbass. You might know a little something about science, but I can get rid of you anytime I want. YOU GOT THAT?’ ‘Sure, I am aware of that, but you won’t do it because you know David can’t do it without me because he trusts me with his life.’ Beth walks over to where Henry is working and picks up a vial and a syringe. ‘Okay genius, how about you try out your little serum on yourself then. I have been pouring money into this fucking program for several months now. Time to suck it up and test it.’ ‘Are you freaking kidding me Beth? This stuff causes violent reactions, we can’t test it on humans yet.’ ‘Bullshit Holstein.’ Fills syringe with serum and plunges it into Henry’s neck and squeezes serum into him. He yells as the syringe falls to the ground and grabs his neck. ‘You stupid freaking bitch, you will regret ever doing that to me.’ She laughs hysterically seeing Henry sweating profusely and thrashing about. ‘Well obviously you have done something or you wouldn’t be acting like that.’ Henry sits down as the sweat pours down his body soaking his undershirt and lab coat. He waits for some kind of change to happen, but seemingly it doesn’t happen. Beth gets a disgusted look on her face after a couple of minutes and starts pacing the floor. ‘What the fuck is this? This is such bullshit……I am terminating this program and you are going to be fired loser. DO YOU HEAR ME? You can go crawl to some stooge on level one and tell him why you were fired because he won’t listen to you. I control the money and there isn’t anything you can do about it.’ ‘And what about David, Beth? Are you going to just take this away from him?’ ‘I don’t care what he thinks, he doesn’t even talk to me anymore. I mean it retard, this is it.’ Henry grabs another vial and a syringe and fills it up quickly as she turns the other way. He gets up and seems a bit more confident than before. His chest heaves as he slowly moves up to where she is and grabs her. She tries to scream but he covers her mouth and plunges the syringe into her neck. After squeezing the serum inside her, he pulls it out and throws the syringe across the room. He quickly grabs the rest of the vials and rushes towards a safe room before turning around and sees her convulsing where she stands. He runs inside and shuts the door before sealing it. She begins to scream as she falls over in agony. ‘YOU FUCKING BASTARD…..YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS…..YOU HEAR ME ASSHOLE…..YOU WILL…..UHHHH’ She passes out as it appears she is unconscious now. Henry views the lab from the room and waits for her to react. He puts the vials down on a table and hunts for a case to put them in. His sweating has stopped which makes him wonder why he hasn’t reacted to the serum yet or at all. He checks his entire body over just to see if anything has changed. One thing he does notice is the fact that he doesn’t feel angry or violent towards anything or anyone. He mutters to himself, ‘hmmm I need to document this in case I actually do get out of this situation alive. I just hope that David doesn’t come back anytime soon because that woman is nuts.’ At that moment, he hears a commotion on the camera. He turns to watch as Bethany starts waking up and grabbing at her chest like she is about to go crazy. She doesn’t put any words together, rather she just yells and screams random things without any rational explanation. It appears that the serum is having the same effect on her as it does on the mice. Henry watches intently as she jumps to her feet and starts to race around the lab throwing bottles, breaking equipment, and launching papers everywhere. She doesn’t seem to know what she is doing as she does this which makes Henry wonder if she is about to go through some metamorphosis. His eyes remain transfixed on her the whole time. After about five minutes of Bethany acting crazy, she stops moving and moans a little. Henry whispers to himself, ‘what the freaking heck? This can’t be happening right now, especially with his wife. Oh gawd we are in some deep crap.’ End of Part II

sorry, gonna fix this up and repost it later

You laid back, your head and upper half of your torso rested against the headboard, which groaned against the weight. Your hands were behind your head, your thick, long arms flexing unconsciously, pulling the skin even more taught around your impressive size. You habitually rubbed your beard against the top of your pecs slightly. The action always made my heart race, reminding me of how your size could easily perform such a feat. Your shoulders almost seemed to be as broad as the bed itself. Your giant back holding up everything, a base for your giant frame. Your massive, well defined abs rose up and down softly. This was all secondary to my line of sight, sitting on my knees, between your gigantic legs. Your knees were up, encasing me on my sides. Your giant thighs rose up from your hips like slanted redwoods, your giant feet and calves behind me. My attention, though, was focused on the gigantic member in front of me. It pointed straight upward, both my hands performing the long, perilous journey up and down. Each hand individually was unable to encompass the unit. I could feel your heart beat though it, almost as though your heart was trying to explode out of your body through your dick. I continued to stroke, hypnotically focused on your member. It was so big! And you knew it. Me? I'm too proud to admit the fact that just stroking your member like this has already caused me to orgasm twice in the last 5 minutes. Without stimulation. But the smirk on your face has me think you already know. Your testicles rest on the bed. Think about that for a moment. It might be hard to convey, but just like the rest of your body, your ass and hips and waist are huge and full of muscle, lifting your genitals well up into the air. Your balls are so big, they still rest on the bed under you. They cycle up and down, cycling the absurd amount of hormones through you, so much I can smell them. My hands slowly and softly go all the way up your shaft. And up. And up. Then down...and down...and down. I repeat this cycle. So much heat is coming off of your shaft it's almost burning me. I don't know why I asked this question. I've been amazed and stunned into silence this whole time. But my mind and mouth just acted, curious. My logical side knew there wouldn't be an answer to the question. But i asked it anyway, compelled. "How did you get so BIG?" I said, both my hands massaging the inhuman head the crowned the pulsing shaft, my eyes never leaving the focus of my new admiration. You laughed a bit. "Do you really want to know?" I stopped, and leaned to the right, unable to see your face because of the competition from your manhood. A confused expression on my face. "What?" "I can do it." You said. I stopped stroking and sat up a little, to look over your giant friend. "What do you mean?" "I can make myself grow." We both paused. "You're fucking with me." I said. My hands weren't moving, but the rested on top of your penis. You made a kegel. I felt it. I looked down at your shaft. You kegel again, this time, I feel it inflate slightly. My pupils dilate. You do it again, this time, I see your whole body swell up slightly. I jump back. "Told you." I paused, as you brought your leg around me and stood up, your giant member swinging back and forth. You Walk on the side of the bed toward me, and I look up, your giant form blocking the light from behind you. You flex everything in your body, and cause a slightly bigger growth spurt. "OHMYGOD!HOW!WHAT?!" I said rapidly. "How!? What is this?! How are you doing this?" "I just can." You said, calmly. You grew again. I could even hear the groaning of your flesh expanding against itself. My body didn't react. Partially in shock, disbelief, awed, and drowning in lust, my hips thrust and flexed, and I squirted, for the first time in my life, the fluids shooting out from between my legs, spraying your knees and shins. The rest of my body was frozen, being rocked by one of the strongest orgasms in my life. My amazement and fascination with your size and growth trumped the convulsions my body was trying to make. Every fiber of my being didn't want to miss out on a moment of you. "And..." You said, bringing your hand gently along the side of my face, "I can do it to you, too." The orgasm amplified, and my body flung backwards, my head arched back. I was lost in it. I wasn't even alive anymore. I was pure bliss. Nothing else was happening in my mind and body. Except for your line, echoing inside of me, anticipating your magic. "...I can do it to you, too..."

I can never think of a good title... anyway, here's another story. Not so much growth focused. More size and size difference focused. This seems like I'll add a part 2...it's just a matter of when the muses speak to me. ------------------------- Your hand brushed along your hair a bit, getting it just right. It's not like you needed to do this, though. You could basically go out with bed head and still get the hottest women to approach you by just smirking at them. You were the definition of alpha male. Your body was made to deposit your seed into as many women as possible. As smart, strong, and capable as you were, the core of your purpose was for nothing more than to propagate our species. To pass on your amazing outlier genetics. Destined to push humanity into a better standing in the history of evolution. Your bigger, stronger, more fertile decadents will go out and flood the gene pool with...you. And you knew it. Your massive frame easily carried the pounds of giant muscle, that easily grows under strain. Your sharp, focused mind and senses able to pick up on the most subtle changes in your environment. Your heart able to support you easily at your size...a size that barely seemed human. Testicles so large and efficient, you could feel the testosterone pulsing out of them, saturating ever cell in your body. And you knew you were still growing. And growing faster than ever. It's been years since you've seen anyone taller than you. You have grown accustom to the shock and awe of people looking up at you. You sometimes grow tired of people begging you for just your touch. It's a bad day for you when you only take home 5 women. Sometimes, your empathy reminds you of all the people you simply were not attracted to, that were heartbroken by the fact that you rejected them. But you knew this was to be expect. These were inevitable aspects of being the alpha of alphas. No one could challenge your authority, our presence, your sexuality. Until...tonight. Sitting up at the dim bar, getting a few shots in, preparing to enjoy your night. You down a beer glass of whiskey like it's a shot glass. It seems like it, in your giant hands. You smirked, realizing this. Your size continuously amazed you. Catching your reflection often had you thinking "God, how am I this looking?" Or "I'm getting even bigger...how much bigger could I possibly get?" A second glass was given to you. In slow motion, you rose the glass up. People around you were usually awed by your drinking abilities. This time seemed to be more so. Your head tilted back as you swallowed the spirits, and the entire bar seemed to fall into silence. You set the glass down, smiling. Knowing people were admiring you, as usual. You look to your left, seeing most of the patrons at the bar looking at you... Wait...no... They are looking...past you? What could possibly take attention away from you...what event could be taking place... And you feel presence take a seat next to you. Whatever had moved into position besides you was taller than you. Your hyper senses picked that up. Now and then, there was the anomaly. Someone with gigantism or some such thing, taller than you. Never as good looking or muscular as you, though. Still, you were a little jealous. You were the biggest and best. No one should be taller... You turn your head to your right, and your jealously turned to shock. The most beautiful dark skinned female form sat, with her right hand on the bar, her body turned towards you. You had to look...up at her...Somehow, Her dark hair, eyes, and tanned Mediterranean glowed in the dim building. Her form exploded with femininity, overloading all of your sensitive senses with her beauty and sexuality. If you didn't have perfect control over your gigantic penis, you would've grown erect at just the sight of her. Her giant breasts were at your eye level, defying gravity. The cleavage exposed about half of the top of her breasts. They were held aloft by broad, strong shoulders. This just exaggerated her proportionately tiny waist. If you weren't so lost in her majestic, otherworldly beauty of this woman, you'd question how her body can even stand upright... Until you saw her thick, defined legs, made to carry well more than her own body weight. Her ass muscular ass was so round and big, it enveloped the tiny stool that struggled to keep her form up. You could see the perfect, spherical orbs of her booty even from the front. Her hair acted as a frame to her body. Amazingly long, flowing down just past her buttocks. The thick, wavy nature of her hair reflected every bit of light that barely existed in this bar, as it curled and bobbed with any little motion she made. Hair that flared out to the left and right of her, some of it over her left shoulder, with no frizz or imperfection. Her face almost blinded you, perfect in dimension, shape, and proportion. The size of her head still human looking, making it seem small in comparison to her amazonian body, which just made the rest of her body all the more impressive. Your primal nature believed you were visited by a literal goddess, come down from heaven to bring you nothing but the purest form of bliss and pleasure. Your ego was conflicted...a woman who was taller...bigger than you?! She couldn't be stronger though...could she? No...that would be impossible...females aren't capable of such strength...physiologically that would be impossible... but the amount of beauty and sexuality that this woman controlled almost brought you to your knees...THAT should be impossible. YOU were the alpha. YOU were in control. She would bend to YOUR will. You would never let anyone, especially a woman, control you. You almost shook off the enchantment that she had over you...ready to take control and have her, like the hunter that you are. Until she spoke...In a voice that almost stopped your heart...with a smile that almost made you weep. "Hi."

A little story about a less sane version of me... ------------------------------ You were everything you could ever dream of. So confident, and exactly what you would be if you sculpted your own body from marble. Gigantic slabs of muscle piled high on your absurd frame. Thick, long bones kept everything perfectly symmetrical. You feet were so big and wide, you constantly almost tripped...if you call knocking everything out from under you without any effort tripping. Your massive legs had layer after layer of meat on them. Your hips formed the base of your barrel shaped torso, wide enough to keep your swollen quads from pressing into each other too often. The muscles of your pelvic floor, lower abs, and obliques flexed and strained constantly, holding up your obscene testicles and penis. Testicles so large, you could feel them throbbing all day and night. Pumping inhumane amounts of testosterone through you. So much testosterone you'd sometimes feel overwhelmed by it, struggling to remain focused, as it fueled your growth. For a while, your penis would just explode out of your pants at the sight of almost any healthy woman who could in the area. You learned to control it, though. Bigger than any porn star you've ever seen, even while soft, your bulge literally shocked everyone that happened to glance down at it. Which wasn't hard, considering your hips were almost at eye level with most people. Add to the fact that you HAD to go commando, or your balls would be crushed against your giant legs all day. You've constantly been asked to leave family locations over the years, and more and more people don't want you around their children. It's not your fault that this thing keeps growing, though. The only thing that distracts from the large beast in your pants was your torso. Your shoulders were wider than most doors. Your pecs stuck out further than the biggest breasts you've ever touched. Your back flared up and outward, forming the base for your shoulders...shoulders that you could swear were bigger than even last week. At your sides, your arms constantly bumped into other parts of your torso, as every movement seems to make the entire limb flex. Your hands could envelope a human head. Your forearms were as hard as bone, and every fiber could be seen under the skin, if it wasn't for the layer of soft, smooth hair that added to the impossible amount of manliness you already were. Your jaw, wide and chiseled, was covered in a 3 day old beard, longer than most guys can grow in a couple weeks. Every flaw that comes with your size didn't matter. how you couldn't fit on most beds, how often you hit your head, how hard it was to find clothes, how most people assumed you were stupid. You didn't care. You loved how people gasped at your presence. When you walked through teh door, everyone looked in awe and lust. You could get any women in bed with you with just a wink... but that's where the flaws started to matter. No one women was willing to try to take your massive penis. You've made it your life's work to find a women who would at least get the tip in...but even the few adventurous women who've tried never enjoyed the sex. You were an anomaly. Like the last of your species, trying to find someone to be with. Someone who could take you. Someone to bond with. anyone. And you found her... You should've realized that an average women being so obsessed with how big you were probably wasn't stable. Looking back, you saw lots of signs. But you hadn't had this connection since you got this big...she couldn't take all of you...but she did what she could... So now here you are, chained to a stone slab in her basement. She said she loved this kind of thing. She said this was her fantasy. When asked to elaborate, she insisted it was about power. How she wanted to feel power over a strong man like you, only for the man to break free, and take the power, and seduce her with it. You agreed with it...kinda lost and confused. This wasn't your thing, but hey, this was the only women you could actually have sex with in years. The chains were tight. Too tight...even for you. Not something you could break, even with your gorilla strength. When she started walking toward you with a needle in her hand, you objected. But she just smirked...The signs were all there, man, how'd you not guess this? Now a crazy woman is injecting you with...She won't tell you what it is! Your heart is racing. It burns as it's injected. You feel it rushing through your veins. You feel your balls throbbing. You feel your penis grow hard against your will. Harder. harder...and bigger. You feel your body sliding across the stone. You look at your left shoulder, then right, in a panic, seeing them shift away from your point of view, as you grew wider before your very eyes. Your chest grew out, taking up more of your peripheral vision. You felt your body growing longer. Your legs growing outward. You feel the shackles press against your growing wrists and ankles. You roar like a monster, asking what she has done to you. She's laughing and moaning, as moisture flows out from between her legs. She shouts triumphantly that her mad science was working. Her aroused body and twisted mind writhed in pleasure as she watched you expand beyond what you wanted. You were perfect, and she ruined you. But this thought was being destroyed by the amplified testosterone coursing through your veins. You were becoming an animal. and this nude, aroused woman, who wanted nothing more than to you to unleash your massiveness upon her stood there...waiting for you to free yourself and take your prize. The chains shatter. You lunge at her. She embraces what little she can of you. Hour and hours and hours of pure bliss followed there after... --------- This one will have one more part to it...let me know what you think

It was possibly one of the most divine sights to see on our planet. Two human specimens built so perfectly, so genetically healthy, entwined in a primal, loving embrace. Their bodies were made for nothing else other than to pass on as much of their genes as possible. No one could think otherwise in their presence, as a sexual energy flowed through them as though their form was otherworldly. Being in their vicinity was an aphrodisiac. And by chance, the two crossed paths. This was about a month ago, and they haven't stopped fuckin' since. The amazonian women shifted up and down the gigantic shaft, it stretching her to her limit. She was a strong one. Her musculature was hard, but kept a feminine softness to it, as a perfect layer of fat softened her curvy body. A body that could outperform some males in terms of strength, but carried such grace that that a ballerina jealous. From the perspective of the average man, her ass was gigantic. Two spheres, topped on thick thighs, pulsed as the throbbing member slide in and out, in and out. She was on top, on her knees and hands, over the massive man. Her hands rested her upper body weight on his pecs. Pecs that were more like slabs of meat. Her weight felt like nothing to him, and she was a big girl. Even strong men would be worry about their ability to lift the beauty. She rode him longer and better than anyone ever could in his life. Afterall, he was pretty sure he had the biggest penis to ever belong to a human being. He never, ever went balls deep. And this dark skinned goddess of the Levant took complete control of him. He flexed his wide core and pelvic muscles, performing a kegel, causing his dick to bulge. He saw it. She felt it, threw her head back, her thick black hair flailing wildly behind her. She responded, expertly controlling the muscles in her lower abdomen, tightening herself around the engorged member. Between her strong biceps, she squeezed her breasts, the only other chest that could compete with the man under her in size. She leaned downward, her breasts squeezed between their massive frames. The woman's kegel remained tight, acting like a natural cock ring to the man's penis. Now closer, she used the muscles in her proportionally small waist to rock her hips up the shaft. As she reached the top of the shaft, she released the kegel. She went down the shaft relaxed, kegeled when she got back to the bottom of the shaft, and moved upward again. The man kegeled while she relaxed, and relaxed while she kegeled. Back and forth they went. The energy built up inside of them. The rhythm picked up pace. The couple seemed to be energized. They moved faster and faster. Then... bliss Something more than an orgasm. Something more than a human being could ever feel. Something they had never felt before. It didn't end. their sight was overloaded, as though they blinded by a light, but without the burning sensation. Just a white flash, that slowly faded. The feeling remained, and they gazed into each other. Her breasts grew... against his swelling pecs. His hands grew around... Her lengthening torso. Her hips swelled in all directions... Creating room for his growing cock. His back lifted his body off the bed... Raising her growing form high upward. Her feet slid downward... Along his swelling thighs. His feet slowly moved off the bed... Followed by her hair. His growing lips embraced his.. . Held by his widening jaw... The unearthly feeling subsided, bringing them down to a state of humanly orgasm. The fluids poured out of them. She screamed in ecstasy, as it vibrated, swirled, and exploded throughout her entire body. His giant form flexed and exerted itself, pumping out load after load deep inside her. She fell limp, and he caught her, she shook slightly. The orgasm lasted for 20 minutes for both of them. They never thought it would end. They laid in embrace, their bed legs shattered under their weight. Her giant form laid across his bigger one. Slowly, sleep began to overtake them...slowly...little by little...everything grew dark... before the same energy slowly push the sleep away... The End.

The Traffic Jam Half a dozen drivers angrily honked their car horns in frustration at a young man, as he walked through a slow moving traffic jam. He stopped in each lane and refused to move until a blue Subaru, managed to merge into said lane. The pair repeated the process several times, until they reached the rightmost lane and exited the freeway. "Pretty sure we are not supposed to do that, Spencer," said the driver. "Come on Jacob, did you really want to wait for a two mile long traffic jam to clear up?" "Well no." "So now we're out. No harm done to anybody." "I guess." "Dude you're too intense." Jacob gave his passenger a look, "I don't think you know what intense means." "Sure I do. You're always like, 'We can't do that,' or 'We're not supposed to be here,' dude you need to lighten up a little." "Yeah, yeah, you say that now, but one of these days you are gonna end up in jail for defacing private property or trespassing." "No I won’t." The two friends continued the drive for thirty minutes before they arrived at a large government building, near the center of down town. The building was roughly eighty years old, and stood as a contraction amid a sea of modern metallic and glass rectangles. There was character in the white painted bricks, and finesse in the detailed edges and borders. "You boys are late again," said the receptionist; a dark haired, pale skinned woman with an icy demeanor. "Sorry Eleanor,” said Jacob "We got caught up in a traffic jam," said Spencer. "According to the reports, the traffic jam hasn't moved at all in the last twenty minutes. Not to mention it's been an ongoing thing since seven." "We got off the freeway and drove here on the regular streets." "Yet you are almost an hour and a half late." "It's a long drive, and it took me a while to convince Jacob to get off the freeway." "I'm sure." "What? You don't believe us?" Eleanor stared down Spencer with her steel colored eyes; a hard soul piercing stare. Jacob tried not to pay attention, to not fall under the woman's spell. "I'm sure you have work to do, so why are you standing in my lobby trying to start an argument?" "I'm sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again." Spencer broke eye contacted and started walking towards the main elevator. Jacob followed suit, and felt a wave of cold air penetrate his body, despite the lack of air currents. Once in the elevator, he turned around to find Eleanor staring right at him. Thankfully the doors closed, almost an instant later. Spencer turned to Drake with a look of anger, "Dude, why didn't you say anything?" "I don't know. She scares me?" A look of total disgust spread over Spencer's face, "She scares you. You are a man, how can you be scared of her?" "Her eyes are terrifying. Besides you caved." "Because I didn't have any back up." The elevator doors sprang open and the duo walked out still arguing, until they reached their separate offices. Spencer left in a huff complaining that Jacob needed to grow a spine. After an hour somebody knocked on Jacob's door. "Come in." "Jacob do you have a moment," asked Melinda, a slender nearly flat chested woman, with brown eyes and brown hair. "What do you need?" "All the electronics in the building are freaking out, and there isn't a single IT person anywhere." "I can't really help you with that." "Actually I just wanted to know if your stuff is acting up." "Let me check, I haven't done anything other than power on my monitor." Jacob typed in his login information and waited for the screen to finish loading. Just before the Windows logo disappeared, the screen cut off, then returned to the login screen. He again typed in the required information, but nothing appeared on the monitor. "That's weird." "Check your phone; I was having problems with mine." Jacob pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and tapped the internet app. The camera app opened up instead. He closed it, and again tried tapping the internet app, only for the calendar app to open. "The wrong apps are opening." "Mine's basically just a brick, it won't do anything." "That is..." Jacob stopped mid-sentence upon taking a look at Melinda. Her breasts were no longer A cups, but instead appeared to be rather full C cups. Gone was the thin almost stick like appearance from ten minutes beforehand, and in its place an hourglass. An hourglass with generous bottom curves and a top seemingly still developing. Her lips curled in a snarl, as she realized Jacob was staring. "...strange." A button from her blouse popped right off and hit, Jacob square in the forehead. Melinda was stunned. She looked at Jacob then down at her breasts and yelped. "Oh my god. My breasts. My breasts are huge. Are...are those my hips? I need a doc," another button pops off and hits Jacob, hit time in the eye. "Jacob are you alright? That wasn't supposed to happen. I mean...god I don't know." She was paralyzed with fear, afraid to approach. Jacob sat in his chair rubbing his injured eye for several seconds until he heard a tearing sound. With his good eye, he saw Melinda's breasts grow to the point of no return. They destroyed the confines of her bra and proceeded to completely popping all the upper buttons on her blouse. The poor woman desperately attempted to cover her abnormally large areolas, as she fled down the hall. Jacob rose from his seat, wanting to wash his eye out; he suddenly felt dizzy. Disoriented, he started rushing to the door. Through his right eye, he saw the sleeves of his shirt were several inches too short. He lacked the time to stop his momentum, and plowed headfirst into the doorway before crumpling to the floor. "Jacob, Jacob. Oh dude what happened to you?" asked a frantic looking Spencer. "I'm not sure. I think I somehow grew," he responded as Spencer offered a hand. Up Jacob went, and up, until he was nearly a foot taller than his 5'10 friend. Through the pain in his eye and forehead, Jacob saw the height difference and became started. He stumbled over his feet and fell forward into Spencer. "Whoa dude, I got ya." "Thanks. Hey you are not Spencer." "What of course I am. Dude you should lie down, there's some blood running down your head." Jacob could feel something running down his face, lots of it, and yet he couldn't focus on the flowing liquid. The stranger standing in front of him, sounded like Spencer and had Spencer's clothes, but he wasn't Spencer. His man had red hair, green eyes, a triangle jawline, dark stubble, and the body of a power lifter. The shoulders were far too massive, the thighs and arms too bulbous, but most prominent was the gut. Like the rest of his body, the gut was visible through several tears in the man's clothes, it looked like a beach ball with ridges. Like somebody inflated Spencer's six pack, by pumping air under the skin to see how far it would stretch. "You can't be Spencer. He is blonde with an athletic build." The man cranked up his head, "Obviously I know that, I'm Spencer." The man started to help Jacob lie down, but used too much force and slammed Jacob into the floor. "Jacob I'm sorry, I don't know my own strength anymore. I don't know anything anymore. Everyone is transforming; growing, shrinking, gaining weight, losing weight, changing hair color, changing eye color, the list just goes on and on. And you're bleeding. Come on let’s get you to the bathroom." The stranger grabs the injured Jacob by the waist and starts guiding him to the bathroom. Still disoriented, Jacob can hear screaming from all over the fifth floor. A naked woman holding two clipboards to her Amazonian body runs past them. Behind her runs and elven woman, short and doll like. Near the bathroom there is man or beast, crawled up in the beetle position. The duo couldn't help but watch as when they recognized the man as Mr. Williams, the seventy-year-old senior manager, balled up on the floor crying. Most of the dense white hair covering his body suddenly fell off, the remaining hair turned pitch black, a dense bush sprouted on the his head. The leathery skin covering his body came alive, all the marks and imperfections slowly disappeared leaving behind pearly white skin, completely blemish free. A lifetime of bacon, pasta, cheese, and beer disappeared in a matter of minutes; the excess skin shrank away, leaving the man looking anorexic. That didn't last. The tissues under the skin started expanding and as his bones began reshaping his body; wide shoulders to go with a narrow waist, and high cheekbones to complement an angular jawline and deep set eyes. Muscles stacked together form the impressive six pack and solid arms of a French underwear model. However the man crawled up on the floor could never be an underwear model, not without facing accusations of stuffing his underwear. A pair of lemon sized testicles and a soft six by four penis sort of dangled out in the air, as Mr. Williams straightened himself out. The dark black hair on his scalp grew longer. The pitch black hair on his head and brows, matched his treasure trail; all of it contrasted with his bright baby blue eyes. The man was no longer seventy; he was probably 22 at the most. Williams stared at his body, then at the lanky giant, and power lifter before running off, sprouting wood. "Spencer what was that?" "What I was saying before. Everyone is transforming, though I don't know why that guy was naked to begin with." Spencer pushed open the restroom door and half dragged Jacob inside. It was difficult getting Jacob's head into the sink on account of his new height. After two minutes of struggling, Spencer gave up; he forced Jacob to his knees and shoved the man's head under running water. "Here press these against your head." Jacob grabbed a wad of water towels out of Spencer's large and calloused hands, and firmly pressed against the gash on his head. The pain and dizziness subsided. His brain began thinking again, rationalizing, trying anything to make sense of the situation. He stood up to his full height. "Spencer you are taller." The thick man managed to grow four or five inches during the walk to the restroom. He looked as if somebody had taken a picture, clicked on the corner and stretched it out. No apparent loss of muscle or fat due to the height increase. "Holy shit you're right. Fuck my face itches, it's on fire." He rushed to a sink and started splashing water on his face to no effect. No fire, other than a dense red bread of fire red hair to go with his the brighter eyebrows and eyelashes. His bottom lip became fatter, the top lip thinner. The nose bridge flattened a bit, the end extended a little ways downward, past the nostrils. Something happened to his ears, but whatever changes occurred where hidden by a thick lion like mane of dark red hair. The gut started expanding again. Growing and growing outward, the six abs on the surface managed to cut deeper and deeper with each passing second. His shirt tore, his pants and underwear tore, and so did his socks. Suddenly the restroom seemed too small. Spencer's gut and pecs bulged out about the same distance. His arms were probably larger than Mr. Williams' chest; his legs were definitely larger than the pretty boy's body. He was a massive wall of muscle covered with a padding of fat. Despite being five or six inches taller than Spencer, Jacob felt incredibly small in his presence. Spencer just seemed to overflow with overwhelming power and strength. For several seconds his body continued to swell like a balloon. "I didn't want this. I don't want to be fat," screamed Spencer has he brought his hands to the sink and knocked it from the wall. It crashed on his feet, but Spencer didn't react. Surely it hurt, though his face didn't even show the faintest sign of pain. It showed excitement. Spencer stepped away from the demolished mess, giving Jacob a good view of his genitals; the carpet matched the drapes. The equipment was probably larger than Mr. Williams', but it looked smaller given the power lifter style frame. Spencer gripped the veiny shaft and started jerking off. "This is amazing. Oh yeah. Fuck yeah. I'm so hot. I'm so fucking hot." Without warning the guy just started humping a sink until he destroyed it too. Due to lack to the lack of experience with his new body, Spencer didn't last long enough to destroy a third sink. He shot a load right into the mirror in front of himself, and kept shooting until collapsing to his knees. "Dude I feel like I can cum forever. Diana, I need to find Diana." As Spencer passed, Jacob couldn't help but notice the difference in height; four inches, maybe more in his favor. He didn't open the door; the red haired giant pushed it, tearing it off the hinges. It flew across the hall and slammed into the opposing wall. 'Holy fuck,' thought Jacob. He could not believe his eyes, as his best friend turned into the world's biggest bull. He couldn't believe the strength of the bull, to tear down a sink, rape another, and to send a door flying. It was surreal, it wasn't possible, and yet the overbearing stench of his cum served as reminder that it had happened. Through the cum, cut the smell of fresh blood. Jacob looked at the paper towels clutched to his forehead, all dark red and dripping blood. He threw them on the floor, and stepped over the debris, to look in a mirror. His face was his, though it was covered in blood. Turning the cold water knob, while still staring at the reflection he frantically stared splashing water on his face. The blood slid off, revealing the gash had healed. No scar, no mark, not even the slightest hint of redness. He continued to stare at his reflection for several minutes expecting some sort of change to occur. It didn't; not after five minutes, not even after ten minutes. He stepped out of the bathroom and started walking around. The entire fifth floor was a mess. Papers thrown about, plants overturned, office supplies littered on the floor, and holes of various sizes in all the walls. "Jacob? Jacob is that you?" Jacob turned around, "Yeah it's me," he said to an Asian woman. 'There aren't any Asian women in his department,' thought Jacob. "Jacob, it's me Trisha," said the woman. Trisha was a brown haired woman, with hazel eyes, and pear build. She was motherly, probably because she had five children and seven grandchildren. The new Trisha most definitely didn't have the body of grandmother. Her hips were wider than the average woman's, but her large bust completely overshadowed them, giving her an apple build. The build was only further accented by the wide square shoulders of a seasoned Olympic swimmer. Her round face was distinctively Chinese, but that body was too out of place, far too big standing at six feet tall. "Please tell me you're in the right mind," said Trisha. "I am." "Good." "Do you know what's going on?" "Well, when I saw Williams I thought the transformation changed a person to their youthful prime, but he was made more muscular and more handsome than I remember. Then I started seeing other people. Diana became a Kate Upton look-a-like with a fuller figure. Rick shrank from 6'2 to 5'5, and now looks like a miniature incredible hulk. Spencer is a red haired giant power lifter, Samantha is an elf, Gina an Amazon, Anna a bodybuilder, Jessica and Rose look like supermodels, Greg and Tim look like underwear models, Silvia, Melinda and few other just grew giant breasts and experienced minor changes. I'm Asian. Honestly I don't have the faintest idea what's going on." "I need a moment to process." "You don't have a moment. All the electronics are malfunctioning, the doors and windows are all locked, we can't leave the fifth floor, and to make everything worse half the staff is fucking all over the place." "What?" "Richard is like fifty now and encouraged Rick and Jessica a threesome with him. Spencer and Diana are destroying everything in sight. Gina and Silvia are taking turns with Greg, and Troy won't stop touching himself. "There's nothing we can do. I am not about to get between Spencer and Diana if that's where you were going with this." "Of course not," she snapped angrily, "Look we need get out of his building now." "You just said everything is locked." "I know. And just to make matters even worse, none of the windows are breaking." "Are you fucking kidding me?" "We've tried everything, they won't break." "Damn, it looks like we'll need Spencer then." "Why?" "He is stronger than he looks. He completely destroyed two sinks and tore a door of its hinges without even trying. Maybe Rick is super strong too. We need them both." "I hate to do this to you, but you need to get him away from Diana. Do you understand?" "Unfortunately, I do." "I'll handle Rick." "Good luck." "Good luck." As Jacob ran around the broken office, he saw a muscular body lying unconscious amid a stack of bodies. Closer examination showed the body was female; Anna, unless another woman suddenly became a bodybuilder. He saw young man with a lean and muscular body thrusting his hips into the anus of an elven woman. Three statuesque women huddled together in a circle, attempting to tie together torn clothes to protect their modesty. Searching the entire floor for the thick red head turned out much harder than imagined. He wasn't anywhere in sight. Spencer was a screamer, and Jacob couldn't hear anything resembling the man's screams. He heard the voices of others having sex, but not Spencer. Refusing to give up, Jacob started running. He fell again and again, due to the lack of coordination, but he constantly rose to his feet. After half an hour of searching he saw them. Spencer had Diana wrapped in his meaty arms; he was walking around, bumping into walls, plants, and even other people. When he stopped it was only to destroy a wall in fashion. The monster pinned Diana against a wall, and began thrusting the entire length of his phallus into her, putting his entire weight into each thrust. On the fourth thrust, the muscles in his ass tensed momentarily and then expanded in one jaw dropping moment. He shoved her right through the wall, slammed her into the ground and kept thrusting away. She screamed in agony, but he didn't listen. All Spencer wanted was his prize. His body began to swell, either due to receiving a pump or another growth sequence, and he thrust into Diana with such force that something actually cracked. She screamed, he roared into her face and deposited the largest load in his life into her. Eventually he pulled out of her nearly dead body and walked away. "S...Spencer, um are uh are you..." "I'm great man." "What about her?" "She'll be alright. Just needs some time to recover and what not." "She isn't fine. There is no way in hell is fine. I heard something snap, she might have broken a bone or something. You almost killed her." "Dude relax, Diana and I have a special relationship. She loves pain. Both giving and receiving. Yeah I'll admit I was more forceful that I should have been, but when she wakes she'll want more." "I don't believe you, nobody could possibly enjoy that." Spencer gave a smirk, "Diana enjoys it. This is what I mean by you're too intense. You can't believe that somebody likes rough sex. It's too weird, too out of the ordinary for you. That's probably why you haven't finished transforming." "What are you talking about?" "I'll be honest with you. When I was a kid, I loved watching wrestling. I wanted to be big and strong like all the muscular superstars. Then one day, I saw a different kind of wrestler, the big power lifter type, with mountains of muscle hidden under thick layers of fat. At first I thought they were gross, but when I watched them throw around the bodybuilder types like rag dolls, my mind changed real quick. I've always wanted to be massive, but it just wasn't in my genes. I thought the fitness model look was pretty okay, so I settle for that. Then today happened and now I'm huge, just like I always wanted." "What about the red hair?" "The hair makes me look like a beast, a wild dangerous beast, which I am. I got the body, the face, the hair, and the genitals of a muscle beast." "It isn't possib...." "You're right it isn't possible, but it happened. Just think about it for a moment. Williams was an ancient dinosaur, now he looks a model and is probably younger than either of us. Anna over there has a muscle fetish, in case you were wondering. Almost all the women have D cups or bigger. All the guys have huge dicks. Do you know how much men and women care about tits and dicks? I wanted a large beastly body, now I have it. I wanted a bigger dick, now I have it." "It can't be that simple." "Of course it can, at least today it is. So then Jacob what is your fantasy?" "What?" "Come on man, don't play dumb. What is your fantasy? You like being tall, don't you? You believe in the height, because there are plenty of people who are 6'10, 6'11, and seven feet even. It's unusual, sure, but it happens." "That's crazy, you are crazy." "Dude yesterday we were body twins, 5'10 at 180lbs. Today I'm at least 6'5 at like 400lbs, and you're 6'10 still at 180lbs. It's time to give into your fantasy. You only have one chance so don't mess it up. Come on man grow." "What about Rick he was 6'4, why would he shrink down to 5'5?" "It was probably to see a ‘how the other half lives’ type of thing. The guy is wider than I am, and it would look amazing at his previous height." "But he shrank." "Yeah, maybe for the shock value; it adds to the fantasy." "Explain that." "Okay. It's like short people wanting to be tall. As insane as it may seem to you, there are tall people who want to be short. So anyways if Rick had kept his height, he'd be scary or disturbing as fuck to people not into muscle. As a short guy, he's not so intimidating or shocking. Now stay with me for a bit. Take a group of people and tell them to elect a leader, chances are they'll look to the tallest person in the room for leadership. People gravitate towards tall people, because tall people warrant respect. A similar thing occurs with muscle mass. Athletes, dancers, models and various other occupations go hand in hand with desirable amounts of muscle; most people think bodybuilders are over the top and don't take their passion or sport seriously. Rick wanted to put himself in a position where people didn't respect or take him seriously." "Now you are just fucking with me." "No it's great. I saw Richard trying to snag a threesome with Jessica and Rick. Richard is like 6'2 maybe 6'3 and buff, like a smaller version of me. He's like a stereotypical old muscle guy, thick arms, chest, legs, and gut, and hairy too. The dwarf was being all submissive, agreed right away with everything he said. Something about Rick was off; I couldn't look away from the site. Rick was eating Jessica, and Richard was about to stick his cock in Rick's ass. This is where shit gets crazy. Rick's ass cheeks are spread out, when suddenly he rolls away, and knocks Richard to the ground. He starts whispering in the old man's ear, next thing I know Richard is his hands and knees begging Rick to be gentle. He wasn't." "So his fantasy was to be short and wide, so he could dominate tall people?" "All people, but especially tall people." "That can't be real." "It is real just accept it," the giant starts bouncing his massive meaty pecs. Dozens upon dozens of pounds of thick muscles began jumping up and jump menacingly. Suddenly he went into a most muscular pose. Despite the thick layers of fat, all the muscles were clearly visible; his upper body nearly doubled in size. Still flexing, "This is real dude, now it's time to get into your fantasy." "No, you are just trying to rationalize something that can't be explained." "You still think I'm lying about Diana, don't you?" "Well some nasty bruises are starting to develop around her vagina." "I'll show you that I didn't force anything on her." Spencer swaggered past Jacob to Anna. During the course of the conversation she regained consciousness. He supported her head and whispered into her ear. Then he positioned himself at her vaginal lips; no foreplay or anything. His penis was still coated with his and Diana's cum, he began thrusting his hips. Gently, after a few minutes he became more forceful, though still relatively gentle. "See dude, we've been going at it for almost twenty minutes and I haven't broken anything. I'm not smashing her into anything, because she isn't into that. Diana over there is a masochist, she fucking loves pain. It's that simple." Not wanting to watch his friend have sex Jacob left the area. He watched his fellow workers, even the ones trying to fashion themselves something to cover their nudity, seemed happy. Nearly everyone wore a smile. Some women even complemented each other on their new appearances. Jacob stopped to ask several about their transformations. They repeated the less graphic details of Spencer's explanation almost perfectly. Jacob began to believe them, but a sliver of reluctance refused to leave his brain, so a coworker directed him to Rick and Richard. Rick sat on the edge of the conference table, legs hanging off the side. Lying on his lap was a cum covered Richard, ass hanging out in the air. How the table managed not to tip was astonishing on its own. Rick was tiny, maybe even less than 5'5. His chest was unquestionably larger than he was tall. Unlike Spencer, Rick had very little if any fat on his body. Beneath every square inch of his skin, was probably a solid foot of muscle. Every muscle and vein was overly pronounced, ready at any moment to rip apart his skin. The simple act of breathing, made it seem like his muscles would rupture the skin. "It looks like we have guest, and you didn't say hello boy," said Rick. "I'm sorry daddy," replied Richard in an almost fearful tone. "Sorry isn't good enough boy," shouted Rick. He raised his monstrously large right hand, flexed his arm for the guest, then opened his palm and spanked Richard. The sound was truly deafening. It shook all the muscles in Richards’s ass cheeks, it shook the table, and it parted the air to generate powerful currents. It was unbelievably painful, like a concentrated car collision in the form of a single palm. Jacob noticed that Richard was crying, but he also noticed that ejaculate was dripping down Rick's inhuman left quad. "Now what do you say boy?" asked Rick with a stern tone. "Hello Mr. Blount," said Richard in between pants. "Hello" "Good boy. Oh sorry Jacob, I'm not taking to you, I'm talking to little Dick here." "I wanted to talk to you about the recent transformations." "Ah right away. Dick give daddy a kiss and then be on your way." Timidly, the 50 year old man reached up and kissed his master of the lips. Then hairy beast jumped to his legs and began walking away, but not before Rick could deliver another spank. Richard jumped up in surprise and rushed out of the room. "What the fuck was that?" "That was my fantasy." "A mock incestual relationship with a man twenty years older than you? You sick fuck." The miniature hulk gave a hearty laugh and showed his brilliant white teeth. As he sucked in air, his diagram expanded, which in turn expanded his overly large torso even farther. For a second Jacob could have sworn he actually saw ruptures in the skin. "Calm down. That's just the dynamic in this relationship. You said it yourself; he is twenty years older than me." "Was that his fantasy?" "Yeah I think it was. His fantasy probably didn't involve so much spanking or rough sex, but the premise is the same. He supposedly wanted to be the dominate male partner, and in his mind that meant being older, 6'3, and 320lbs. Unfortunately, it takes more than height, muscle, and age to be dominate. It's a state of mind and he didn't realize or have that." "And you did?" "I had before the transformation." "Then why tran..." "Transform all. It's simple really. I thought it would be fun. Little guy bossing around the big dominant alpha male or bringing the stuck up bitch down a peg or two." "You are hardly little." "Well in terms of height I am. The muscles are bonus. They can add or take away from the situation. Look man I don't know why this happened, but believe me I am enjoying it. I'd rather not explain to my roommates why I'm suddenly 5'3 and weight 450lbs. However, I wouldn't complain about this being a permanent change." "Okay say I've accepted this whole fantasy coming to real life, how can you possibly weight 450lbs? There would be no way for you to move." "The weight is just a guess, going off my personal fantasy of course, and I don't really care for the science or magic behind it. So tell me, if you believe why haven't you transformed?" "Because I don't have a fantasy in mind." "Well when you do, I'd love to see it. Dick, come back here," he smiles, "In case you still have doubts. Dick walked back into the room and immediately took his position on Rick's lap. Rick placed his hand on Dick's lower back. It was out of proportion to the mini hulk's body, two maybe three times too large for his frame. He removed the hand and curled all but one finger. It alone was significantly larger a jumbo sized hotdog. He took the finger and started playing with the Dick's ass. "You want to leave don't you? This is what I was talking about, the mentality to dominate. Of course I could never dominate you into having sex, but little Dick here loves it. His fantasy isn't to dominate, it's to be dominated. He just gave himself a bigger body so his daddy could enjoy it more. Isn't that right little Dick?" "Yes, sir." "Good, now then." There was no warning. Rick shoved his muscle bound finger into Dick's entrance, and forcefully began exploring. Dick's entire body started bucking wildly. Rick placed his left arm around Dick's back and slipped his right calf over Dicks flapping hair legs to regain control. Rick applied more force to his finger; Dick responded accordingly but couldn't move at all due to Rick's pin. The master eventually removed his left and to grab some cloth behind him. Then wadded the cloth into a ball and stuffed it into his toy's mouth. "Will he be alright?" "Naturally, this is our fantasy," the mini hulk somehow managed to stick in yet another finger. Jacob turned away, "How strong are you?" "Why are you changing the subject?" "Trisha and I wanted to get some muscle before attempting to knock down a door or something." "Yeah she told me. It didn't work, not matter how hard I pushed it didn't budge." "Maybe if you and Spencer tried together." Rick momentarily pulled out of Dick and tossed the big man on the floor. The paper skinned hulk walked over the east wall of the conference room and rammed his forefinger through the drywall. To really drive the point home he started punching through the material, taking out massive chunks with each strike. With the last punch, he left his arm in the wall and started walking. His arm tore away at the building, as the man walked around the room. There was no resistance to be offered by the drywall, none at all. Casually, he returned to his sitting position on the conference table and waited for Dick to resume his position. "Listen Jacob, I just punched through the wall like it was tissue paper. Those doors and windows aren't gonna break anytime soon. You know, I'm amazed you can talk so casually as I finger a guy right in front of you." "You act like you've done it before." "Dozens of times." "Ordinary this would disturb me, but for some reason today it does not." "That's what Trisha said earlier, before joining in." "So the three of you?" "No, little Dick here strictly prefers dick. I on the other hand, am more flexible. Speaking of which little Dick here is nice and loose again. So unless you want..." "I'm going." Jacob walked out of the room, but caught a full view the reflection of a mirror. Dick was on the floor, Rick was plowing him hard. So hard, that with each thrust Dick was actually pushed forward several inches. 'That is going to lead to serious rug burn,' thought Jacob. Jacob continued walking around the floor. Most people had settled down, and some had even returned to working. He found Spencer still having 'gentle' sex with Anna; despite her own impressive size and power she appeared small and frail wrapped in his large arms. Diana was still half dead. He continued to wander around and by accident found the new Troy, a perfect replica of a monstrously vascular comic book character. Like Williams, he appeared to fantasize about a male model body, though with an extra thirty or so pounds of muscle. "I see you are enjoying yourself." "Yeah man." "How come you aren't out with everyone else?" "Jacob, I'm so ripped and flexible now that I tomorrow I won't have a reason to leave my house." "Assuming the transformation is permanent." "I know what's behind it, and I'll make sure the transformation is permanent." Jacob couldn't believe his hears. Troy knew the secret and instead of telling anybody he was caressing his abs and flicking a long hard nipple. "How do you know? What is going on here?" "Actually I'm not entirely sure, but I have a pretty good idea." "Well hurry up." "It's Eleanor." "What?" "Dude she is a witch or some kind of reality warper." "Well given all the crazy shit that has happened in the last few hours, I can believe in witches and reality warper, but what makes you so sure she is behind this?" "I've worked in this building for the last fifteen years, and during those fifteen years anybody who managed to piss that woman off, suddenly disappeared or has their life ruined." "Well I've worked here for two years, and Eleanor is definitely intimidating, but I've never seen hear actively go after somebody." "You've just never seen her work. She is the receptionist, okay. When some cocky little shit walks in, she is the first person they deal with. When an arrogant business person or lawyer walks in, she has to deal with them. All she has to do is stare at them with her cold icy eyes, and suddenly all the bravado, all the swagger, the self-importance, it all goes away. The most powerful and influential people in the city are completely terrified of her. The mayor's assistants don't even come here anymore; they send the interns. Speaking of which, do you remember Christine Hath?" "She was the girl who only showed up for one day of her internship." "Yeah, that's because on that day she pissed off Eleanor. From what I heard, Eleanor was going through some documents on a tablet, when Christine showed up with a manila folder. Eleanor took the folder and went through the documents, and found a couple that needed to be signed. She told the girl, 'You need to get these signed,'' and handed the folder back. The girl was like, 'I'm done for the day. You get them signed,' and then took the folder and slipped it between Eleanor's fingers and the tablet, before basically skipping away. The day afterwards human resources gets a call, Christine's mother saying her daughter wouldn't be able to continue her internship due to medical problems. Last month, Melinda apparently saw her at the high school. Her face was covered in a thick layer of makeup and looked really bumpy. Mel tried to talk to her, but she ran away; a student told her Christine had suddenly developed huge boils all over her face and body that refused to go away." "Well everything that's happened today, I guess that's believable. Anyways why are you so certain that Eleanor, with all her magical reality warping powers, will allow you to keep your body after today? Or even live?" "Because I can’t lose all this." He stood up and began posing. His body was simply amazing; hard and round in the all the right places. His arms looked like somebody stuffed in two hemispheres and some lamb chops in a peach colored bag. His waist was either too small, or his pecs and legs too large. Though the most impressive thing about his body wasn't the muscle mass or the shear vascularity, it was the penis. Probably eight inches long and five inches around, flaccid; most likely the largest in the office when erect. "My wife is going to love playing with her new toy." "Yeah. Well good luck with getting the transformation to keep." Jacob left Troy's office before the well-endowed meat bag could begin growing erect. He wandered around the office some more, to find Spencer having anal sex with Anna. Her body was covered in his ejaculate; she moaned in pleasure as she attempted to meet his thrusts. Back in the conference room, Dick was lying on his back, legs pointed straight up in the air. Rick was on his knees for once, brutally shoving a thick log into Dick's anus. Jacob eventually returned to his office, and noticed there was no blood on the floor or on the doorway. "I see you're back," said a woman. Jacob turned around, nobody was in sight. He looked around for several seconds for the source of the icy voice. Suddenly he felt a cold finger touch his lower back; he turned to find Eleanor staring up at him. She was completely unchanged from earlier. "So, are you a witch or what?" She smiled, it was beautiful and apocalyptic at the same it. "The former." "Are you responsible for this?" "I am." "Why did you do this?" "Boredom." "Boredom." "How? How is any of this even possible?" "Well as you now know I am a witch. Despite my appearance, I am actually 200 years old, and for a magic user age is power. Of course old age also leads to wisdom, which typically equates to power if not versatility. So anyways, I used my magic to enter every one's mind and pulled out their physical fantasy and then brought it to fruition." "Is it really that simple?" "Heavens no. I had to use my own power to enter the minds of twenty different people and search for each person's unique fantasy. To build the fantasies, I had to use my magic and the ambient magic in the environment to convert mass from one form to another. To top it all off, I decided to give you all the power. That way the transformations were gradual and more entertaining. Of course my explanation is still too simple." "So you did this all for your own entertainment?" "I had to. Only a fifth of the workforce showed up today. I didn't have anything to do, or anything to pass the time with." "Why didn't you just use the internet?" "I don't think you understand me. I'm a witch, why would I waste my time watching kittens play with yarn, when I can do all this." "Surely you are abusing your power." "I invented the concept of being old and not giving a damn about anything that I don't care about. Plus, I'm the leading expert in human, beast, and demon transformation, so I can pretty much do whatever I want." "Which is transforming people into their personal fantasies for your amusement." "That was just because I was because I had nothing to do. Besides nobody got hurt or died or anything. And because I'm in such a good mood today, I decided to work a little extra magic. So anybody who wants to keep their new appearance may do so." "So you can make the changes permanent." "Yes I can, but usually I don't. You see the world has changed greatly over the past few decades. If I leave you all like this, people will ask questions. Imaging going to get your license renewed and explaining why you are a full foot taller. Or Williams explaining why he is twenty-one instead of seventy. So because you all provided so much entertainment today, I will cast a spell on you. Every person you think of will have their memories of you rewritten to believe that you grew into your current form. This spell is very powerful, and it will change your appearance in any photograph or video, anything with your image will change." "That seems too good to be true." "It's not. The spell will only change memories and images, but everything else will be as it was. For example, Rick is now 5’3; there is no way for him to reach the gas or brake pedals on his truck. Changing memories doesn't help the fact that Williams is now twenty-one, or that Trisha is now twenty-eight year old Mulan with E cups, or that Richard made himself fifty. The birthdays don't match up; if they want to keep their bodies that means giving up their old lives and starting anew. Fortunately the rest of you didn't change your ages, so a few memories switches will fix everything." "Okay, so I've finally accepted this whole fantasy coming to real life thing, but I haven't shrank yet." "Yes I can see that. You were satisfied with your appearance, and only wanted to know how it felt to be taller. The magic took an extreme effect because you only wanted one trait changed. You wanted to be six feet even, but the magic added an extra tens. Tell me; were you comfortable in your old body?" "Yes." "Are you comfortable in your new body?" "Not right now. I mean if I had time to adjust to my longer limbs, maybe I would be." "Would you be comfortable in any body?" "I guess, eventually?" "Well then you won’t mind if I take this opportunity to change your body myself." She raises her hands, white smoke begins to swirl around them, and then it happened. Jacob grew another two inches taller, bringing him to an even seven feet tall. His clothes exploded off his body, as the meaty muscles under his skin expanded. They grew and grew, until he felt bloated. However he wasn't bloated. He was completely shredded; every muscle group was developed to the point where it prominent poked out of his body. His chest alone was easily the size of his desk; the skin even matched the brown shade of the wood. His traps were unbelievably high, almost to the height of his head. His arms weren't even recognizable as arms anymore. They were earthy mountains, covered with trenches and a vast network of train tracks. His legs were, naturally larger than is arms, and followed the same structure, but to a more extreme level. The witch summoned a large mirror. Jacob saw his body and jumped back in shock. He didn't even look seven feet tall, he looked eight or nine. His chest was unquestionably the largest chest on the planet. The six pack he had worked for, was still there, only larger and with deeper cuts. The most shocking thing was his genitals; large round potatoes with a fittingly large tube steak. Once he got over the shock of his body, he looked into this face. Same dark brown hair and ears, but everything had changed slightly. His nose was straighter, his jawline board and more angular, his eyes were amber colored with a gold ring around the edge. "What did you do?" he asked in his new baritone voice. "You said you would be comfortable in any body, so I gave you a new one." "I thought this was supposed to be my fantasy." "Well I decided to make it your wife's." "She isn't into this kind of thing." "I noticed. She liked your old body, but did desire a bit more muscle and height. The magic was once again extreme in your case." "Will you change me back?" "No. At least not right away. You said yourself that would probably be comfortable in any body, so try it out for a few days. If it doesn't work, I will return you to your original body." "Um, okay." "Good. Now then I've decided to close up early. You'll find a set of extra clothes in your bottommost left drawer. Now if you excuse me, I have to inform some others of my decision. By the way can I trust you to keep this a secret?" "Sure." "Good then I will leave your memories intact. Bye now." "Bye." Jacob checked his drawer and true to the witch’s word was a set of clothes: a button down shirt, briefs, shorts, and a pair of sandals. Jacob almost tore the briefs as he attempted to raise them up beyond his quads, small tears actually did appear in the fabric. It was stretched tightly in all directions everywhere, except at his waist. The shorts were easier to put on they slipped almost perfectly over his quads. He pulled a string on the waist band and tied it, then tucked over two feet of excess string into his shorts. After several minutes he found, the shirt would only button enough to cover his abs, leaving his desk like pecs exposed to the whole world. His arms, though covered, might as well have been naked. As he left his personal office, he noticed how his pecs bounced with each step. They jiggled and flexed, the veins danced across the twin surfaces. He found his entire body seemed to have a muscle seizure with every step. The striations grew and deepened, the veins sometimes didn’t stop popping out even after he stopped moving. Jacob was so in awe of his body that he didn’t notice that the entire fifth floor was completely clean and fixed. No papers thrown about, no toppled plants, no broken walls, absolutely nothing out of order except large muscles and big breasts. He found Spencer and the pair walked outside, complementing each other’s new bodies. As they approached the Subaru, Jacob remembered something the witch said. Everyone’s memories had been altered, but not the life decisions he had made. Jacob and Spencer stared at the Subaru and wondered how one, let alone both of them would fit inside.

I am a very normal guy. Ish...sorta...sometimes. Very growth obsessed, as we all know, (or should know by now!) and have had countless years to focus on all kinds of fantasies and 95% of them are all wholesome and good, but every so often I want something more...I want something darker and that's where this thread is going to come in handy! This is by no means a thread for everyone, it has some topics and scenes some may find offputting! (which is why I'm posting it here!) For instance, in this story scene here, there is a woman who grows. But before you close the thread right away, let me explain. I'm a Bi giant beast man, and I've come across SO many growth stories online which deal with "turning the tables" as it were where the girl outgrows the guy. There's even a scene from time to time where the guy reclaims the power only to be trumped later on. I hate that part! With me, it's about the dominance, the POWER and that is something ONLY reserved for the men in my stories. So let me assure you, not all of these stories will have girls growing, but every single one of them will have the main theme of POWER in the absolute WRONG hands! Men who have no RIGHT to grow, and who will cause all kinds of mayhem and chaos and destruction! SO without further ado, enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The smell of the gasoline soaked burning wooden crosses filling the night air with a singeing acrid stench as the loud revelling echoed into night. The hollering cheering group of hatemongers cheering on as the helpless and hopeless were lynched and burned. Some of them hiding their faces with the long flowing white hoods, while others, even more brazen in their hate just wore plain clothes, so proud to be carrying out their twisted view of “God’s work” they want everyone to know! The crowd let out a few catcalls and slurs as the final victim was dragged up, the lithe woman still rebellious to the end after having just watched her father and husband killed senselessly. “You understand your charges? You witch, turning the minds of men with your fucking magic, making them think terrible thoughts all so you can drag them to your bed! For that only ONE sentence is appropriate!” The burly Klansman held her noose in hand staring at her, his thick bulge obvious as he ogled her curvy form, clearly falling victim to that aforementioned witchcraft! While she WAS a healer and a voodoo priestess, she’d only ever used the lessons passed on from her mother to help others, and now this muscled brute was going to end her life. Defiant to the end, she spat one last time, as the Klan leader strung her to the cross, the rage building inside of her, a darkness a seething burning hatred that could no longer be kept inside! It felt like her soul as screaming out of her body as she spit out the curse! "I swear you scum anything you do to me shall be returned to you TENFOLD!" she spat again, as the burly Klansmen struck her delicate face. "Shut your mouth you fucking whore!" he leaned in, closely, sniffing her and giving a lick across her smooth sweatsoaked cheeks "It's a shame that mouth of yours is so fucking filthy because I could think of a dozen better uses for it!" he leaned in giving her a kiss before she bit his tongue, causing him to lash out and strike her again, and damned if he couldn't feel a shock just as bad if not worse than a suckerpunch! Reeling from this, he stood back adjusting his robe, before ordering them to light her up. It was at that point he noticed her starting to moan and writhe on her stake. Far from the fear that was gripping her just moments ago, she was feeling more aroused than she ever had in her life! A warmth spreading over her, and it made him feel just as horny, his mind drawn to her full figure, her firm perky tits, everything about her made him want to fuck! This revelation hitting him just as he watched her breathing get quicker! The ropes starting to fray as she looked just as confused as everyone else! She let out another shrill moan as she suddenly SURGED up, her body bursting free of her restraints as she fell to her knees in orgasmic pleasure! From the center of the crowd rushed out the girl’s mother, the old woman smiling, watching her daughter moaning and overcome with the pleasure of this last minute spell, she was proud of saving her daughter's life like this! "IT worked! NOW my daughter you'll be unstoppable, a black goddess able to crush every one of these fuckers!" and the girl started to grin, stroking herself and feeling her body swell and grow against the hot summer ground! The klansmen backing up in fear as she swelled to 10ft, then 15ft! She never felt so...so POWERFUL! Her foot easily kicking aside one of the men who dared approach her! “EVERY ONE OF YOU FUCKERS IS DEAD!” she laughed, stomping once again the screams of terror of the little bigoted men suddenly falling hushed! She stood, confused as their attention was drawn behind her! Turning around slowly, she felt her heart stop! Watching that burly Klan leader stroking his cock through his robe, his body starting to heave with each deep breath! Every single person was losing their minds, but he was there, up on the hill stroking, and his obvious bulge was getting MORE and MORE obvious! He looked down at himself, watching the veins pulse up and down his thick hairy forearms, feeling his heart pounding faster as he stared up at the 15ft tall amazon. "YOU FUCKING WITCH! What have you DONE TO ME!?!" he moaned his body overwhelmed with the most intense orgasm of his life, as his cock literally tore free of his pants and his robe, throbbing thicker and through the open noose as he held it in his hand! Watching as the beast continued to grow with each thick rope of cum he fell to his knees as he watched the veins pulsing further up his arms and he could feel his shirt growing tighter under the flowing robe! Button bursting after button as he let out a deep guttural groan, which slowly twisted into a laugh! “You did this! You made me UHnnnnnn You made me GROW with your stupid fucking curse! You stupid little GIRL!!” he boomed with laughter as he was just 8ft tall, but by this point his cock stretched down even further, as another orgasm hit his powerful growing body, his arms stretching down his body, growing all the way to the ground as he jerked and spasmed swelling out of control! Watching his biceps fill with powerful thickening muscle as he flexed outwards feeling his lats balloon out so wide his shirt literally BURST off his frame as his arms pushed so far up his shoulders were pressing against his ears! “Mother what have you DONE!?” the amazon cried, terrified, unable to move her orgasmic growth finished at 15ft but still held in the afterglow, and the terror of this hulking hairy brute swelling in front of her! Her mother was in just as bad a state as the growing monster of a man who had just hit the 16ft mark plastered her in cum! “OH GOD it’s just not Uhhnnnn STOPPING!” he groaned barely able to talk, feeling his pecs bulge so thick they pressed against his chin! His hairy sweaty body looming over her now and shuddered as every single ab swelled outwards the thick snaking veins pulsing them into a burly musclegut, as his biceps throbbed so full he could no longer bend his lengthening arms! Struggling now to stay on his knees, moving them apart as his thick quads pressed against one another, the muscled thighs so massive they were running out of space to grow! The crowd cheering now! No longer afraid, but loving every minute, unknowing that this musclebound monster was pumping out so many pheromones that every man and woman in the crowd was overcome with an orgasmic sense of euphoria, even the once rebellious amazon felt herself was too turned on to stop herself from grinding her legs together in awe! His cock stretching down to just a few feet above the ground, pouring precum at this point as his hairy body only got thicker! “OH GOD it’s still HAPPENING i’m still GROWING how much BIGGER am I uhhnnn gonna GET you whore? I’m a FREAK already!” he bellowed shouting down at the flinching amazon before it hit him...10 times...10 times as BIG!? Again he spurted another jet of cum over the crowd, unable to stop himself from growing as he hit 20ft tall! “FUCK you’re making me SO BIG! Do you SEE uhhnnn OH FUCK Do you SEE what you’re DOING to me!?” he groaned punching the ground, his muscles jerking as hundreds of pounds of mass were pumped onto his growing frame every single second! Rising once again to his knees the monster hit 30ft then 40ft his booming guttural groans getting so LOUD they could be heard in the next county, he was trapped here, swelling and growing out of control until his cock let out another throbbing spurt of cum and swelled down to touch the ground once again! But it grew so thick the noose cut off circulation like the worlds tightest cockring! The huge low hanging balls swelling as he felt his body shudder and stop growing! Realizing that he had stopped the growth for now, he let out a snarl “OH YOU DESERVE A SPECIAL THANK YOU FOR THIS! FOR MAKING ME SO fucking BIG!” he laughed, realizing his true place wasn’t doing god’s work, it was BEING a GOD!” The amazon let out a terrified shudder as she felt herself revolted by and so turned on by this hulking monster, she wanted nothing more than to see him dead, but now her body NEEDED that massive cock inside her and as he loomed over to grab her she didn't so much as flinch!

So this is one I had posted on the old forum. I lost all of my other stories, but I found this one and figured it still deserved to live on. Hope you enjoy it. Being a bartender actually turned out to be a pretty good day job for a witch. Mixing drinks wasn’t too different from mixing potions, and placing my bar in a college town meant I had plenty to keep me interested. There’d been plenty of times I’d used concoctions to alter people’s evenings, but it was always in good fun. Love potions were extremely easy to make, and it’s not like these kids weren’t coming out and getting drunk in order to get some anyway. Now, when you’ve been around as long as I have (about 500 years), you’ve seen it all: peace, war, love, heartbreak, fear, joy, hate, sorrow…you name it. I was convinced that the human race was nothing more than something to play with and profit off of, and nothing was going to change my mind. I suppose you could say that I’m pretty powerful as far as witches come, but seeing as how I hadn’t seen another witch in about a century, who could say? We basically kept to ourselves, and it’s not like anyone knew I was a witch. Witches don’t age like humans, but we look like them, so to anybody else, I just looked like a tall slender brunette in her late 20’s/early 30’s. Being 5’10 let me be kinda busty, and I had fun flirting with the boys. I’d slept with one or two just for fun, but when you’ve been around for 500 years, it’s hard to impress me. The one thing I had never done though, was actually alter a person’s physical composition. It was a hard spell, and people tend to go crazy with it. With modern technology, people can have plastic surgery and alter themselves all they like. That’s not my job and I’d decided to keep it that way…until… It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the bar was completely empty. It was kind of strange for there not to be a single soul in sight, but with midterms taking place, business picked up during the weekend as people drowned their sorrows, but during the week it was pretty dull. Then, in walks this guy. He seemed pretty unphenomenal. 5’7, probably 130-140lbs if I had to guess. Kinda skinny and a bit on the short side, but he had a handsome enough face. He was in a short-sleeved red button down shirt and khaki shorts. He had short brown hair and as he sat at the bar and looked up at me, I was shocked by his beautiful crystal blue eyes. As he sat down at the bar, he sighed and kept his head down. He was obviously having a bad day, so I tried to be cheerful. “What can I get for ya, sugar?” I asked. He kept staring at the bar, which was a waste since his eyes were the only exceptional physical quality he had. He kept drawing circles on the wood with his right middle finger, pondering. After about a minute, he looked up and just said “Something strong. I’ve had it pretty rough recently, and I need to either get drunk or find a magic solution to all my problems, so unless you’ve got something like that, I’ll be getting drunk.” He chuckled, and for some reason I thought that was the most endearing thing I had ever heard. The boy was cute, and couldn’t have been older than 21 or 22. I checked his ID, and sure enough, he’d just turned 21 a couple months before. I decided I’d see if I could help him out. I’m a witch, and he did ask for a magic solution after all. I leaned over the bar towards him and asked “What kind of problems ya got?” As he looked up towards me, his eyes stopped on my exposed cleavage before making their way to meet mine. “Lost my last two girls to…” he paused and sighed again, “…bigger guys” I made an audible “awwww” sound as he said that. I’d seen it in action. Tall beefy guys are definitely more successful at the bar than those like this guy of the shrimpier variety. It was something even I understood. Bigger guys were more attractive. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for this kid. He was kind of like a sad puppy, sitting in front of me, begging for a treat. I recalled his name from his ID. “Tyler, I’ve got something for you. It might not solve all of your problems, but it’ll make you feel better.” I know that I had pledged not to alter people, but for some reason my heart just went out to this guy. He was so pitiful looking that I just knew a bit of size would boost his confidence enough to really turn it all around for him. I walked to the bar and began mixing the concoction. I hadn’t made this particular potion in a few hundred years, so maybe I added in a bit too much of something or another, but it didn’t matter. The liquid was dark brown and looked like beer, but it smelled so sweet. I only poured him a shot glass full and sat it in front of him. “Try this.” Is all I said. He grabbed the glass and threw it back without question, and immediately the changes began to take place. He sat the glass down hard, and I knew he was feeling it, too. He shut his eyes and put his hands on the bar. They expanded and his fingers thickened. It spread up his arms and veins became visible as they thickened and lengthened. The short sleeves of his shirt filled up with his newly expanded beefy biceps. He threw his neck back and it thickened, too. He grunted and it sounded as though his voice was deepening. I had forgotten that the spell did that, too. His shoulders broadened and his chest heaved out. It grew so big so quickly that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a button shot off of the shirt as such a high velocity it shattered a bottle behind the counter. The loud POP of the button snapping off and the shattering of the glass nearly gave me a heart attack, but Tyler didn’t notice at all. His beefy pecs were now exposed as the shirt was opened for all to see. I peered over the bar to get a look at the rest of him. His stomach had surely tightened into a six-pack and his shorts were looking strained as his legs grew thicker and longer. I began to hear all sorts of ripping sounds as seams broke on his shorts and his sneakers. He shifted in his seat as his package grew, too. I’d added a bit extra to that portion of the spell. Well-hung men get places in life, ya know. The growth happens fairly quickly, and soon he’s brought his head back and he makes eye contact with me. He stands up and he’s now a bit taller than I am. I’d put him at about 5’11-6’0ft and a solid 180lbs now. I glance down at his crotch and see a visible outline of a sausage dick. Not bad! I think to myself. “This is amazing! What did you do?” Tyler is speaking so loudly, and his new deep voice is so…sexy. No, I’m not about to make a move on this guy…but maybe doing a bit of…quality control, wouldn’t be so bad… I’m having my own internal struggle, but I manage to reply, “You asked for a solution to your problems, so there ya go!” I wink at him and push my chest out a bit. He frantically scans the bar and shouts “I…I need MORE! I NEED YOU TO GIVE ME MORE! I’M NOT BIG ENOUGH YET!” His dick pulses in his shorts, a vein pops out on his neck, and a wet spot starts to form on his crotch. “Slow down tiger! You’re a pretty big boy already, and besides, I don’t think you’d be able to pay for this stuff if I charged you for it.” I try to sound seductive. I don’t know why I can’t control myself, but I want him so badly at this point I can hardly stand it. I’m not sure how he takes it, but he leans in to whisper into my ear “Oh, I can pay for it…” I melted right there. His deep, smooth voice was so sexy. He reached a huge hand up to my face and stroked it with the back of his hand so gently. I reached out and put my hand on one of his huge, meaty pecs. It was solid as a rock. I quickly turned and went back to the drinks. I made my way across the bar, hearing glass break under my shoes from the bottle that broke earlier. I didn’t care. I made a whole big glass of the potion and he was reaching for it before I had even finished it. I handed it to him and he chugged the entire glass. As soon as he finished, he threw it to the floor, shattering the glass. It was then that it hit me…I’ve literally made a huge mistake. ”RRRRRRRWWWWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” is all he can manage to say. He stands up and holds his arms out. He’s already showing signs of being obscenely huge. Again, his hands swell to a size big enough to palm a basketball. His arms explode in size, his sleeves tearing like tissue. He flexes those beautiful massive biceps. They’ve got to be over 20 inches. His traps swell up and his bull neck expands even further. His chest and back swell simultaneously, and I duck under the bar just in time as the rest of his shirt buttons fly off like bullets, striking glass and wood, and piercing into the wall behind me. He inches taller towards the ceiling. His thighs swell to look like cedars, and the push out his now engorged melon-sized ballsack and still growing dick. You can physically see it through the remnants of his shorts. A look of discomfort spreads across his face and one of his huge hands reaches down and tears away the rest of the fabric surrounding it, unleashing the beast. His huge dick is oozing semen. It runs down the long, thick shaft and begins coating his balls that are still physically churning and growing. It then begins dripping onto the floor. He continues to expand in every direction for a few more moments before it finally slows to a stop. “Oh my god…” is all we both say. We’re both shaking and horny. He’s a 7ft tall behemoth, and he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. His still beautiful striking blue eyes meet mine, and he reaches across the bar, picks me up gently, and lays be across the top of it. I know he’s going to fuck me right on my own bar, and I want it. He’s so huge he can straddle the bar effortlessly. As he does, his huge dick and ballsack spread across the wood, and I’m so turned on I can’t stand it. My panties are soaked and all I want is for him to be inside me. I’m a witch, and I know I’m probably the only one who can take it all. It’s got to be a foot and a half long, and it’s as thick as a fucking soda can. Neither of us can say anything, but we’re both breathing heavily as he makes his way towards me. He reaches around me and tears my top off. He then reaches down and rips my jeans like they’re tissue paper and removes my panties the same way. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. He fondles my huge breasts with such power and yet such delicacy. Already coated in his own precum as lubrication, he makes his way inside of me. It’s physically hot and literally the most filling experience I could imagine. Me, lying across the bar naked and him, behemoth straddling it, we make love. We made passionate, lustful, beautiful love right there. He reached his hands around either side of the bar and gripped it tightly, crushing the wood as he finally pushed his entire dick into me. I moaned loudly and he made a sound of astonishment. As he continued to fuck me, he got faster and more aggressive. I looked up at his huge biceps and saw that he began to swell yet again. I felt his dick engorge even more within my body. How the hell this is happening I have no idea, but I’m so turned on by it. He doesn’t grow much, but it’s noticeable for sure, even for his size. He roars again as his head balloons and he begins to fill me with his semen. There’s so much that my stomach swells. It fills me up and begins to dump out of my vagina all over the bar. There’s so much semen that it pours down the sides of the bar and coats the floor. We both breathe in sync as he continues to move in and out, up and down. It was a ride like neither of us had ever experienced. I thought for sure that after all of that, he’d be finished, but he doesn’t go soft and instead repeats from step one. We fucked four times, and as he moved, there was an audible sound of us moving through the slimy semen everywhere. It was incredibly hot. After his fourth orgasm he finally pulls out and lays back across the bar himself. How in the world it supported him I will never know. I couldn’t sit up. He eventually stood up, leaned over me, and gave me the gentlest kiss on the lips I have ever received. I grabbed his face and returned the favor more violently. After our Kiss, he made his way to the door, and stooping down and turning sideways, made his way out onto campus completely covered in his own semen and butt naked. I admired his thick ass as he made his way out. Still not a soul in sight, I slid myself off the bar and into a puddle of semen. The bar was damaged, there was glass everywhere, and I was a mess. A quick spell would get all of those things in order before customers came that evening. ”That was fun. I should do that more often.” I thought to myself as I cleaned up the bar.

Hello again! This is the third chapter in the Dylan series. Unlike the majority of the original chapters, this one actually used the fact that Dylan was underage as a plot point, so I had to slightly rework the story to account for the fact that he is now 18. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! ------ A Morning with Dylan Dylan woke up with one thought on his mind: food. The muscleboy sat up and stretched, yawning while he expanded his huge muscles and watched them flex and roll. He looked around, confused for a moment, before he remembered where he was; Kyle’s apartment. Putting on his now-dry basketball shorts, Dylan went to check on Kyle. The blond photographer was fast asleep, but Dylan needed food, and he needed it NOW. Looking at the time, Dylan saw it was only 6:00. The local grocery stores should be opening up any time now. Unfortunately, Kyle's apartment wasn't very close to any shopping districts so it would be quite a walk to the nearest store - nearly 10 miles. Dylan quickly wrote a note that said, “Out shopping, will be back in an hour, -Dylan,” before posting it to the door and walking out. There was only one thing that Dylan loved as much as working out, and that was running. In track meets, Dylan would always stand out. Most runners were skinny and had long, bony limbs that didn’t weigh much so that they could run faster, but not Dylan. His musclebound legs blasted him forwards with amazing speed, leaving the other competitors panting in the dust. Dylan weighed nearly twice as much as the heaviest runners, but he was 100% muscle, and rather than slow him down, the teen’s hulking body made him faster than any other kid could ever dream of being. As Dylan headed towards the store, he started to feel a tingling within him, a nagging feeling telling him to run. The boy jogged at first, feeling the morning breeze stroke his powerful body, then slowly increased his speed. After two minutes of jogging, he got tired of this and broke into a mad sprint. He dashed by trees and people, dodging obstacles, not even stopping for cars as he flew recklessly down the streets. One woman cursed at him and, laughing, Dylan simply flexed his bicep at her and dashed away. Dylan loved the feeling of the wind blowing in his face, trying to stop his muscular body from ripping through the city at breakneck speeds but failing, the resistance nothing to the barrier-destroying propulsion of his explosive calves and powerhouse thighs. The boy, high on his own speed and power, accidentally struck a metal signpost. Dylan felt a sharp pain in his arm, but only momentarily, as his muscles quickly recovered. Looking back, he saw that the signpost was not as lucky; his momentum had caused it to bend over at an awkward angle, the metal twisting into itself because of his boy muscle. That sight made Dylan hard, and his huge penis engorging in his shorts caused him to slow down. Fortunately, the boy was already approaching the store at that point, so he coasted into a casual walk and checked the time. 6:21. It had taken Dylan just over twenty minutes to run a full ten miles. The young stud congratulated himself as he walked towards the store. Dylan tried to open the door, but it was locked. A short, small man came out and glared at Dylan. He didn’t look very impressive, with an angry red face and a balding head, but that didn’t stop him from fuming at the young musclegod. “Can’t you read the sign?” he scolded, “We don’t open until 7!” Dylan rolled his eyes, “Dude, big deal. I’m a little bit early, so what? C’mon, let me in.” “No!” the red-faced man shrieked, “Rules are rules! I can’t let every half-naked bodybuilder barge in as if they own the place! Wait outside!” The musclegod was starting to get annoyed at the short guy. Dylan unconsciously flexed his muscles, which were pumped from the hard run and looking even bigger and more intimidating than usual. “Look, dude, if I stand out here I’m going to have to wait over half an hour. Just let me get my groceries and leave, okay? I don’t want to start any trouble but you’re really pissing me off.” The employee looked like he was about to punch Dylan (which would have been a very, very bad mistake) but before he could do anything a well-endowed blonde walked out of the store. She wore the same uniform as the angry short man, a dark blue polo shirt with the store’s name printed across its front, but her tremendous breasts were spilling out of it. Dylan’s jaw dropped when he saw the size of her jugs. “Are you giving our customer here trouble, Nelson?” The tall woman asked. “N-no,” Nelson stuttered, “This man over here, he was trying to get into the store. I know you told me not to let anyone in before 7, so…” The blonde shook her head in dismay, “I don’t think you understand Nelson. We always treat our customers best. Especially customers as handsome as Mister…?” “Tadeo,” Dylan smiled, “I’m Dylan Tadeo.” “Great! My name is Samantha Moreno, but you can call me Sammy. I’m the manager here. Sorry about Nelson bothering you,” she gently shooed him away, and grumbling, the short man stormed off, “But that won’t happen again. Normally, we have a pretty strict policy on clothing, but for you, I think we’ll make an exception.” Samantha lifted her finger and tenderly ran it across Dylan’s bulging pecs. She gasped at their massive size, their smooth, fine hairs and ponderous density. Dylan smirked at the fortunate turn of events. He forgot his hunger for food in exchange for a hunger for pussy. “You like muscle, Sammy?” The blonde dropped her hands and stroked the boy’s abdominals, amazed at the hardness of all eight bulging muscles. “It’s my favorite thing in the world.” “I can show you all my muscles, if you want,” Dylan suggested. Samantha glanced into the stud’s eyes. He was so confident, so masculine. “There’s a room in the back that nobody ever uses. I’m sure you could… show me your muscles there.” She led the enormous muscleboy to the back storeroom, anxious and yet excited. Samantha hadn’t been this giddy since she first went on a date in middle school, but this sexy musclegod whom she had only met a few minutes ago was already making her mad with desire. His enormous muscles and cute face stirred a need in her that no other man had even made her feel. Samantha had dominated every man she had ever met, but she failed to realize just how dominant Dylan really was. And she also failed to realize just how huge the young stud was... everywhere. The blonde turned around to see Dylan looming over her. Growling, the musclegod tore off Samantha’s shirt and lifted her entire body in his arms, suffocating her soft, petite frame in his hulking muscles. Sammy was suddenly overwhelmed by so much hot, pulsing strength that she nearly passed out – or she would have, if Dylan hadn’t thrust his tongue into Sammy’s lips and kissed her with the ferocity of a tiger. Samantha returned in kind, making out with Dylan’s perfect face and basking in the manly taste of his mouth. Dylan quickly pulled their lips apart and gazed at Samantha, his eyes burning with lust. “A lot of chicks say I’m too big,” he growled as he placed Samantha on the floor and seductively slid down his basketball shorts, “But they all manage to take me. Some with more screaming than others.” Samantha’s gorgeous blue eyes widened as the muscleboy unsheathed his gigantic tool. Huge, hot, and veiny, it was just like the rest of Dylan's body. That monstrous, drooling fuck-cannon was either a woman’s biggest fear or her biggest desire. Fortunately, for Samantha, it was the latter. Dylan saw the need in Samantha’s eyes, the same need that everyone had whenever they saw his beautiful nude body. Dylan stepped towards Samantha and flipped her over so that her smooth ass faced upwards. Grunting, the muscleboy rammed his cock deep into Samantha, all the way to the base. Samantha screamed at first, just as Dylan had predicted. But Dylan had also predicted that Samantha was a total size junkie, and he had predicted right. By the third ass-splitting thrust, Samantha was moaning in pleasure, pleading Dylan to fuck her even harder, to be even more brutal. Dylan gladly obliged. Standing up, the huge stud lifted the blonde on his cock. Samantha gasped at the sudden change in elevation, unaware of what Dylan was doing. The musclegod carried Samantha on his cock over to the wall and began to fuck her against it, using nothing but his powerful glutes to provide her with brain-numbing, orgasm-inducing pleasure. Each thrust was twice as hard as the one before, and Samantha, impaled on what was probably the world’s largest cock, cried in ever-escalating ecstasy. Dylan fucked so hard that the concrete wall actually started to develop cracks; somebody would have to pay a huge repair fine later. By this point, Samantha had already orgasmed several times, but Dylan had yet to achieve climax. Pulling the tired and delirious woman off his sexweapon, Dylan grabbed it with both hands (he had to, because that cock was simply too big for one) and started erupting all over Samantha. It was not a short series of bursts, but a continuous jet of incredibly powerful cum, splattering all over the blonde’s naked body. By the time his orgasm had subsided to a dribble, Dylan’s manly essence had practically covered the entire room. “God damn…” Samantha groaned, “That's the best sex I've ever had. I never even dreamed that a man could fuck that hard.” Dylan chuckled to himself. “What’s so funny, mister?” “You called me a man, Sammy. How old do you think I am?” The blonde was taken aback by this question. “Uh, you look pretty young, so… maybe mid 20s?” Dylan burst out laughing. “Nowhere close, girl. I’m only 18, still in high school. I’m barely legal and I'm already the best fuck you've ever had.” Samantha's eyes widened, and her rapturous grin transformed into slack-jawed astonishment. “Shit, Dylan… you’re joking right? You could win any bodybuilding award you want with a body like that... and your monster dick, you fucked me with that thing like a master... and how the hell do you have such a sexy face.... there's no way that anyone that young could be so perfect...” “Better believe it, ” the muscleboy smirked. The blonde gazed at Dylan's impossibly beautiful smile one last time before her eyes rolled up and she fell to the floor, unconscious. Samantha simply hadn't been able to comprehend that a man as young, handsome, and powerful as Dylan could exist. When she woke up forty-eight hours later, Samantha would remember it all as simply an incredible and sexy dream. Dylan shrugged. “Time to get some groceries.” --- Dylan arrived back at Kyle's house about half an hour later. The muscleboy gently tapped on the door, and when nobody responded, he lightly grasped the metal knob (so as not to crush it in his fist) and turned it to enter inside. The photographer was typing on his laptop, heavy metal playing loud. Kyle turned off the music, looked up, and was greeted with Dylan's irresistibly handsome face. The stud was wearing a black shirt with a large pink heart in the middle of it with text that said “I Love Big Muscles!” and a silhouette of a bodybuilder under it. The shirt was obviously two sizes too small, but it would do an adequate job of covering the boy’s muscle-bound torso for now. In each hand, Dylan held half a dozen grocery bags that seemed to be filled to the brim, and overflowing. The teen walked over to the kitchen and dumped the bags onto the counter. Kyle’s mouth dropped as the bags unleashed a gargantuan pile of food. There was no way that he could finish it all, even in a month. Dylan chuckled as he removed the last few items and threw the bags away. Kyle stared unbelievingly at all the groceries the boy had brought. There was everything he could think of; milk, juice, yogurt, butter, bread, cheese, meat, fish, vegetables, eggs, pasta, ice cream, and more. And it seemed that the boy had brought everything in abundance, almost as if he had gone to every alley in the store and stocked three times as much as he needed. There was enough food here to feed a family of six for a week! "How much did you get?" Kyle exclaimed, "This is excessive!" “Calm down, Kyle, calm down,” the muscleboy placated him, “I got it all for free. There’s a real nice lady at the store who helped me out. I told her that I needed to get some groceries but I didn’t have any money, so she gave me some stuff for free. She gave me this t-shirt, too.” The blond stared at Dylan, unconvinced. “Okay, I kind of persuaded her a bit. But she really liked my muscles. As you can see,” Dylan pointed to his shirt, which was desperately struggling to contain his beefy biceps and heaving pecs. “She gave me all this food one-hundred-percent out of her own free will, I swear.” In reality, after fucking Sammy, Dylan had made it clear to the employees that he better get what he want. All Dylan wanted, of course, was food, and lots of it. Being a true meat-loving carnivore, he ended up devouring four pizzas (bacon, pepperoni, BBQ chicken, and sausage) and three gallons of milk for breakfast; a bit heavy, but Dylan knew he could burn off the calories in a few minutes of jogging thanks to his incredible metabolism. Dylan also ordered the poor employees to pack up a dozen bags of groceries from every end of the store. Nelson raged at the teenager, whom he accused of “robbing us blind,” but a dangerous flex of Dylan’s biceps shut the red-faced man up quickly. Kyle shrugged. “Well, food is food. I’m probably not going to finish it all, but thanks anyways.” “No problem,” Dylan winked, “I’ll be happy to eat anything you leave behind.” After the two had cram-packed the groceries in the fridge (which took surprisingly little time thanks to Dylan’s lightning-quickness), the muscleboy went back to the bedroom while Kyle ate a bowl of cereal. A few minutes later, Kyle was done and headed inside to talk to Dylan about the next photo shoot. There, he saw the teen, positioned above the floor and held up only by his feet and hands, doing push-ups. Dylan burned through them at a rapid-fire pace. He would do fifty push-ups in thirty seconds, then change to one-arm push-ups and crank out fifty more. Then he would switch arms and blast through another fifty reps. In less than two minutes, Dylan had finished one hundred and fifty push-ups, and his biceps were ridiculously swollen with pump. But Dylan wasn’t done; the muscleboy lied down and clasped his hands behind his head. He then started doing crunches with single-minded determination, repping them out even faster than he had his push-ups. The hulking teenager somehow managed to reach one-hundred reps by the time a minute had passed. Despite their speed, these weren’t the hasty, rushed crunches of an amateur, but the perfect, refined crunch of a professional bodybuilder. The only reason Dylan could pump them out with such mind-blowing speed was because of his extreme level of fitness - any fat that might have existed on Dylan's body was so miniscule that it was not visible to the human eye. Dylan jumped up and turned around… and bumped into Kyle. His enormous chest slammed into Kyle’s head and sent him flying backwards on his rear. Dylan didn’t even seem to notice the collision until he looked down and saw Kyle sprawled on his ass. “Shit! I am so sorry!” the muscleteen bent down and lifted the photographer up in his mighty arms. “You okay, Kyle?” Kyle rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, I’m fine. My head hurts a bit where you slammed into me, but that’s it." Then, jokingly, "You’ve got to watch where you’re going with a body like that, stud! You could hurt people by just touching them!” The musclebound adolescent blushed. “Sorry. I was just so into my warm-up, I didn’t even notice that you came in. Hey, take a look at this!” Dylan slowly peeled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. Kyle’s jaw dropped, and his cock rose. He had seen the teenage musclegod shirtless before, but this was the first time he had seen him after he had pumped up. The boy’s thick, dense pecs, which were swollen from the earlier push-ups, protruded in front of him so much that they actually created a shelf big enough to carry, and crush, a carton of milk. His abs pushed the definition of what abs are supposed to be; they were eight of them, perfectly defined, containing so much muscle and size that they actually bulged outwards. It wasn’t the fatty kind of bulge, but the bulge of too much powerful and sinewy mass trying to occupy the same space; his abs created a dense wall of muscle that looked strong enough to deflect bullets. Even his arms somehow managed to overshadow their previous hugeness, biceps and triceps exploding in opposite directions, expanding with every breath, with every pump of blood through their veins. “You like?” Dylan winked. Kyle sat down on the bed, mouth ajar. “You look amazing.” “And that’s just from doing my warm-up,” the adolescent bragged. “You should see how huge I get after a real work-out!” This was the moment Kyle had been waiting for. “I bet you get absolutely monstrous when you’re pumped, don’t you, big guy?” Dylan chuckled, “You have no idea.” “Then maybe we should go to the gym and take a few pictures of you working out. I’m sure those photos would look incredible.” Dylan’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea, Kyle! When can we do it?” Kyle smiled. This would be his best shoot yet. “We can go right now.”

The first time it ever happened, would be back in my senior year of highschool, just getting ready to leave for college, in the back seat of her car..I'd never learned to drive, not that high up on my list of things to do really, not when there was time to be working out! I was a beast back then...so much more now but I don't wanna get ahead of myself. 6ft, 225lbs, I was a beefy jock then, and Jessie was the envy of all her peers being with me, but it took her forever and I mean FOREVER to finally cross that home base so to speak, I was a blue balled testosterone filled beast from the months and months of buildup, she always said she was terrified of getting pregnant, she was afraid it would hurt you name it! But finally neither of us could hold off anymore and after graduation that was it! the two of us grinding against one another madly trying to take off enough clothing in the cramped back seat of her little prius to feel skin on skin! At last my thick fingers got her bra off, and her little hands, yeah she was only about 5'5 so tiny I felt IMMENSE for sure, my thick 10incher causing her to gasp..fuck I'll always remember that gasp! She wasn't even sure she could take it, the look on her face as i slowly guided a rubber onto it, they tell you how to do it in health class but never mention how TIGHT it was and that was the biggest size they had! I'll admit, it wasn't long, we were only going at it for maybe 10minutes before she started to just shudder, her own orgasm just too intense for her to even go on, asking me to pull out, begging me to and it was at that point I lost it and I started to cum but so hard...harder than I ever have before! I could literally feel her getting tighter around me as I felt a snap...the first of many times this would happen...the condom being burst open as she started to moan and cry out telling me it felt like I was punching her pussy with my cum, how HOT it was, how HEAVY it was! and it was just filling her! My cock just wouldn't stop, and I couldn't pull it out, it was literally growing with every throb! along with the rest of me! I had no idea what was happening at that time, but now I know it all too well, I was growing as I pumped her full of my seed, that first growth spurt I had to have put on 50lbs of muscle and just over 6inches of height. You don't have any idea what that's like! Honestly, I kept cumming for MINUTES it was the most surreal thing I'd ever felt, as my barely clothed body started to spasm and throb in time with my flexing cock as she started to scream out about how BIG I was getting, that's just it, she was the first one to notice my growth..obviously. The growth starting at the base of my cock and stretching up my torso as my abs started to flex and swell growing firmer and heavier as they got more defined with each throb! the thick veins moving up my abs to my pecs which would heave thicker and heavier with each breath! I could feel my shoulders stretching out my shirt, my loosened tie from the grad party digging into my neck as it thickened and bulged! My back up against the roof as I felt the already cramped car getting more confined! My hands were getting bigger and I was holding her down onto that beast cock of mine, my body on autopilot as I wanted nothing more than to get every drop of my cum into her little spasming body, by this point she was pushed into her third orgasm and her eyes were literally rolling into the back of her head. I was hearing the metal of the flimsy little car start to buckle as my beefy shoulders kept swelling and stretching against it and I could see her just about to pass out and I swear it took...it took every bit of my strength at the time to pull my cock out of her, still so hard, still throbbing, still spurting with my thick load and there was just so much of it! I was already big, but I kept struggling to pull out, and there was more, and MORE my heavy balls slapping her ass, hanging down against my thighs as I pulled the full 13inch prick out and I spurted up and down her bare stomach with the rest of the load as I collapsed ontop of her, this hulking sweaty cum soaked beast! I realized later that I could have done her a lot of harm if I didn't manage to fight it, and pull out in time, her petite frame couldn't take too much more of my growing! We came to a few hours later, her father knocking on the window MORE than a little upset, but as I stood up, and got out of the car, my pants around my knees, my half hard cock hanging just about that low he found himself at a loss for words, staring at his cum soaked daughter, who was rubbing her stomach and letting out blissful moans. I got to see myself in the reflection off the window and I was..I was immense! staring down at her father who I'd been eye to eye with just earlier this day, I struggled to do up my pants, my thick muscled ass stopping any such hopes as not even my boxers could get over that bulging bubble butt, I resigned myself to wrapping the blanket she had under us around my waist. My parents took me to the doctor the next morning, growing that much had them terrified, but the doctors were just as lost as I was as to why it went down. I remember stepping onto that scale as the nurse weighed me, his eyes bugging out as much as my parents as it read 285 pounds, I felt IMMENSE! staring at myself in the exam room mirror, no fucking hope of the clothing fitting me it was amazing! Still, at the time, that wasn't the weirdest part, not by a long shot, I should have been upset or wanted answers but I was enjoying it far too much, and then even more strange, I got a text just a few hours later though, from Jessie, telling me she was pregnant. The doctor said easily a month in as well apparently. She was sending me message after message assuring me she never cheated, that she thought the results were wrong, and that I didn't have to worry, all that and I couldn't reply, just speechless. But instead of being terrified, I was there, at the doctors office, my heart pounding my blood pumping, my muscles tensing I was...I was turned on! The nurse, his name was Greg, was watching my reaction, just me and him in the tiny doctor's office and he noticed the throbbing bulge. He was cute too, up until that point I didn't even really notice. He was almost as large as I was, clearly took care of himself, filled out the scrubs better than anyone I've seen before or since. He let out a chuckle, god Greg had a good laugh, and he pat my shoulder asking if I've gotten a kinky text or something, and I just told him I got my girlfriend pregnant. He seemed confused especially about my reaction and to be honest I couldn't explain it either! The room at this point was filled with the musky smell of my sweat and precum, I was soaking through my pants, and it's obvious now that my body was pumping out pheromones trying to lure in another 'victim' to knock up, but at the time I had no idea, but Greg definitely was feeling it. His nervous, thick hand pressing against my shoulder as he tried to offer me comfort for this pressing time, that hand moving down my muscled pecs, brushing over my sweatsoaked abs as it rest on my bulge, feeling it throb and pulse as I let out this guttural groan and another burst of pheromones. Greg felt them wash over him as he started to soak through his scrubs, his hands both trembling as they opened up my pants, and I didn't stop him, I'd never once felt this way before but my body NEEDED release. He dropped to his knees and slowly stroked my thickening 13incher mumbling out how big it was, how it was stretching his jaw as I put my hand on the back of his head, forcing it down his throat and starting to work harder, he felt my balls as they churned and throbbed I was so fucking horny watching myself in the mirror as I flexed and posed, my bicep bigger than my girlfriends head was my sleeves started fray from getting so pumped! I felt that same building pressure as I finally unloaded into him! Greg was gagging, his eyes rolling as the heat of my cum splased down his throat! I even watched his own thick bulge throb and spurt against his scrubs, cumming just from the sheer overload of pheromones I was putting out! I watch myself close in the mirror, feeling his throat getting tighter and his hands smaller with each spurt but I wasn't getting any bigger! Confused I finally pulled out my 13 incher and helped Greg up to his feet, staring down at him now a few inches shorter, seeing his once thickly stubbled face look smoother and more angled, his thick biceps having gotten slightly slimmer, and certainly less veined! he looked himself over, his hips having swollen out and his ass grown even curvier he was amazed but pleased, and that was when I found out exactly what my body does. I would be told about it later by another Breeder, which I'll tell you about next time maybe, but I am built to breed, my cum the most potent and powerful in the world and my body has this insatiable urge to do so, any woman even coming close to that thick hot cum runs the risk of accidental exposure, and everytime I do breed someone, my body rewards me, with growth, to turn me into an even MORE suitable mate. Greg found out what happened to MOST guys on the receiving end of my load, I say most because there are a few exceptions!! but they lose their muscle mass, their testosterone, their manliness all of it being stored in me, ready for my reward for my next breeding. These muscle men become more and more feminine everytime they take it, and the pheromones I pump out keep them coming back for more. It's a vicious cycle and it's the reason I'm actually transcribing this through someone right now, haven't been able to use a keyboard in...fuck in YEARS. So that's how I found out what I was born to do, next time I'll tell you about how I found out WHY I do it, and maybe mention Thomas, the other Breeder I was talking about...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 The Party Greg stepped off the scale. He was five pounds heavier than he had been yesterday. He could feel it. He felt bigger, heavier, more solid. He stood before the full length mirror in the bathroom and enjoyed what he saw. His naked body was a piece of art. Greg remembered what life had been like five weeks ago. How small he’d been. No defined muscle, just skin and bones. In the last few weeks he’d seen incredible gains in size and strength. His arms now laced with veins pulsing under the skin, and beneath those thick, powerful pythons of muscle. When he made a fist the solid fibres of his forearms danced beneath his now tanned looking skin. He had a healthy glow. Greg’s favourite parts though were his biceps. Between his elbow and his massive round delts lay the long muscle bellies of his biceps and triceps. The best part was when he brought his forearm up to make a muscle and the powerful length of his bicep would mound ever upwards. A few weeks ago it had been small, but each day it continued to form an ever growing peak. Now it was a solid massive ball. On par with any light heavyweight teen bodybuilder. And better even than most. Three times now he’d inadvertently flexed and split the seams of his polo shirt. His parents kept asking why he needed more money for clothes. Greg didn’t know what to tell them. Especially considering that the polo shirts of a few weeks ago would no longer fit around the massive girth of his new chest and back. He’d done five hundred chin-ups yesterday with an extra three hundred pounds strapped onto his body, which weighed two hundred twenty pounds. His back muscles benched and flexed with the slightest movement. And he’d begun buying clothes a couple sizes too big, because he knew that those two slabs of meat that were his pecs would too soon strain the cotton fabric of anything smaller. And fuck trying to button up the collar. His neck was just too thick. No button would hold. There seemed to be no such problem with his waist though. It seemed to be the only part of his anatomy not making astronomical gains. Instead it looked like a bricklayer had laid each of the bricks of his eight pack. Three weeks ago it had been like a washboard of ten abs. Now it was a titanium wall. And his jeans now clung tightly to his new ass and legs as well. Greg had been busting his ass with squats and they’d paid off handsomely. He knew he had the best ass of the pledge class by far. He involuntarily flexed the muscles of his quads. Damn, they were powerful. And calves like diamonds. But Greg was also growing taller as well. He grabbed his cock and gave it a loving tug. Nine inches. Jesus. Who would have thought? It was like a dangerous weapon. Too bad Nate always seemed to be one up on him, now at ten inches. Greg’s balls too hung low between his thighs, big and round and covered in dark, silky hair. Greg always went au natural these days. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back to down the hall to his dorm room. Although the dorm itself was co-ed, each floor was still segregated by sex. And Greg was aware of the envious glares of his fellow residents as he walked down the hall. Before he had started pledging, Greg would have taken all of his clothes with him down to the showers, and dressed there privately afterwards. Now he enjoyed showing off his body as he walked down the hall, like the other jocks on the floor did. Each Pi Epsilon Chi man played a sport. And Greg was thinking about wrestling. When he got back to his dorm room, he saw that he had a couple text messages waiting on his phone. The first was from the Pledgemaster. “Mr. O’Brien, your meeting tonight has been cancelled. You and your fellow pledges have a free night. Enjoy it. But remember, you represent the fraternity at all times. Do not disappoint! –Mr. Pledgemaster.” Greg was so shocked he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It was the first Friday night since he’d joined the fraternity that he didn’t have a meeting. However, even before pledging he hadn’t really been much of a party animal. What was he supposed to do? He checked the second message. It was from Matt: “Dude! I heard Nate repped 800 for 100 today. WTF? He’s gonna be ready before you! Drastic measures need to be taken my man! Meet me at the chem lab tomorrow at 09:00 you know the place – don’t tell ANYONE!” Greg was a bit surprised by Matt’s message. Greg pushed himself real hard. All the pledges did. But Nate was just ahead of the genetic curve. None of the other three pledges had gotten past seven hundred pounds for fifty reps. Although their gains were progressive. Greg was second only to Nate and he’d only reached seven hundred fifty pounds for fifty reps yesterday. Jerking off was not a problem though. Neither were the other tasks. It did seem possible that in just a short period of time Nate would fulfil all the physical requirements to become a brother. “Hey dude!” said Rich coming through the door. Greg saw Rich maybe once or twice a week nowadays, if that. They were pledging separate fraternities and that didn’t leave a lot of personal time. “Man, you are getting huge!” observed Rich with some awe. “What the fuck? What’s that bicep these days? Seventeen inches?” “Eighteen inches,” corrected Greg. He brought up his arm in front of Rich’s face. “Awesome,” said Rich. “It must be that formula right?” Greg choked. “How do you know about that?” “Well I didn’t until you just confirmed it,” said a smiling Rich. “All the Kappa guys know that you guys are juicing on something. I mean dude! There’s no way that you’re gonna gain fifty pounds of muscle in five weeks. It’s just not possible.” “Seventy pounds actually,” Greg corrected him. “Yeah, well, whatever,” dismissed Rich. “There’s still no way. Do you guys think the rest of the Greeks...hell, the rest of the school are oblivious? I mean more than ten pounds a week, for five weeks in a row? C’mon!” Greg realized for the first time that he was now taller than Rich. And quite a bit bigger. He flexed his chest involuntarily. He crossed his mighty arms over his chest. “Hell, man, don’t worry about it,” said Rich. He didn’t seem very intimidated, even if Greg outmuscled him by around fifty pounds. “I’m not worried about being one of the big men on campus. That shit will prolly make your dick drop off anyway.” “I doubt that”, said Greg as he let his towel drop. Rich tried to play it cool, but Greg saw his eyes widen as they involuntarily dropped down to Greg’s junk. He was as long and thick soft as most guys were hard. “Shit dude!” said Rich in awe. “I didn’t know you were that hung!” This was a true statement because Greg had never let Rich see him naked before. “No wonder those roids got you so big! Bet all the bitches love that thing!” “I don’t know,” said Greg truthfully. “I haven’t gotten laid since high school!” “Really?” asked Rich, dumbfounded. “Then you gotta come to the party tonight man! The Lambda Mu Chi girls are throwing a private party for us at our house tonight. I can invite anyone I want. I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come anyway, but now I gotta get you over there. Dude, those chicks will go crazy for a dick like that. You’ll have to fight ‘em off you.” This wasn’t how Greg had wanted to spend his first free night in weeks, but it occurred to him that he was pledging a fraternity and had absolutely never been to a frat party in his life. Didn’t he deserve a break? And he’d known Rich all year. The guy was a little wild, but basically all right. And maybe he could break this losing streak he’d been on and get lucky. So after confirming that his pledge brothers had plans of their own, he pulled on one of his older and slightly tighter pink polo shirts and followed Rich up to the Kappa Mu Alpha house for a good time. * * * “Whoa! Big dude!” said the Kappa brother as he let Rich and Greg into the house. “You’re a Pi Epsilon Chi pledge aren’t you?” Greg smiled and nodded. “Well welcome, mate,” the guy told him. “I’m Hank. Rich, grab the man a beer.” “Yes, Sir!” said Rich. “This is a pretty special night,” continued Hank. “We don’t often get bros from your house at our parties, so it’s a doubly special night.” “Here you go.” Rich handed Greg his beer. “Enjoy yourself,” Hank instructed him, as he walked away to greet some other guests. “That’s our chapter president,” Rich told him. “So what’s so special about tonight?” enquired Greg. “Well, I don’t know for certain,” said Rich conspiratorially, or at least as conspiratorially as possible over the rumbling bass of the speakers. “Rumour has it that tonight’s the night the Lambda pledges cross over. But the way I heard it each one needs to fuck a guy before they can become full sisters. With proof of the dirty deed!? Greg glanced at him. “With odds like that you are bound to get laid!” enthused Rich. “I mean there’s twenty Lambda pledges this semester and only ten Kappa pledges, so you do the math. I figure that’s why each of us pledges got to invite a friend.” Greg grinned at him. It had been a while and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. He’d been over at the Pi Epsilon Chi house for so long now, with all those swinging dicks, that he’d almost forgotten that he liked girls. Surveying all the very lovely ladies in the room, he just had the feeling that it was going to be a very good night. * * * “Hey, Polo Guy!” Greg heard the chirpy voice next to him and looked down at the speaker. A Lambda pledge stood next to him, smiling up expectantly. He figured she was about five feet, five inches, but Greg now towered over her. He knew she was a pledge because her hair was up in pig tails and she was wearing tight, white shorts and a tight pink t-shirt that read: Hot Tits. All twenty of the sorority pledges had arrived about an hour ago, wearing a lot of make-up, their cheeks dusky with blush. The words that came to Greg’s mind were cheap and easy. Her pink t-shirt was very low cut, and from Greg’s birds-eye vantage point he could see straight down her cleavage. She wasn’t wearing a bra either. Greg felt himself get a little hard as he imagined his face buried in those tits. In the midst of his reverie she handed him a beer. “This is from that guy over there,” she pointed. Greg looked up to see Hank talking to some of his frat brothers. Hank saw him and saluted him with his own beer bottle. Greg returned the gesture. “He said that I was yours for the night.” “Mine?” asked Greg. “Yeah,” she said seductively. “He said I was supposed to make you feel like a man. And....” she paused to giggle, “Fuck you like my ass was on fire.” Greg looked a little blank. “You do want to fuck me, don’t you?” she said looking a tad concerned. “Of course,” sputtered Greg. “But only if you want to fuck me. Not just to become a sister or something.” “Well I do want to become a sister,” she replied thoughtfully. “And I am going to fuck someone here. I asked that guy if I could fuck you, and he said yes. So it might as well be you.” Greg thought that was as good a reason as any. And he was willing. He chugged back his beer. She took him by the hand and led him upstairs to one of the rooms in the house. It was empty, but it was clearly someone’s room. Posters of half naked women and Quentin Tarantino films adorned the walls. “Besides,” she said, as she shut the door, “I have kind of a thing for bodybuilders, and you are a pretty big guy. Would you flex your arm for me?” “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” said Greg. “Why not?” “Because if I do I might tear my shirt.” “Oh, please!” she begged him. “Please, please, please with sugar on top. If you do I’ll let you fuck me six ways from Sunday in every hole.” Greg’s rod got so hard instantly that he had an obvious tent in the front of his jeans. He brought his arm up. “Ready?” he asked her. Her eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly. Greg flexed his arm and the polo that was already taut against his bicep began to give way as the mound of his massive gun rose up in the air. Within seconds his bicep had hulked out splitting the arm of his polo all the way to his shoulder. “Oh fuck!” she cried. “Shit,” Greg informed her. “That’s nothing. If you like that watch this.” He brought his other arm up and, just like the other, it split along the seam. Greg wasn’t even flexing hard. He changed his pose to a most muscular and began to flex his muscles. This shirt was getting too small for him anyways. As he flexed he felt his already powerful muscles engorge with blood and get pumped. Soon he felt the strain in the shirt fabric as his muscle bulged too big to be contained by the cotton. Within seconds the tears began and shirt spit from its open neck down his waist. With a roar he ripped off the remains of the shirt, and flexed hard for her, then swept his arms up. “Oh fuck!” she hollered jumping into his embrace with a running leap. Greg swept the girl up in his arms and lay back on the bed, pulling her down with him, and kissing her. She sat up for a minute, her sexy bottom resting on Greg’s abs, as she pulled her shirt over her head. Her tits spilled out and he reached his meaty fist up to feel one as he flexed his abdominals. The girl felt the undulation in her clit as his abdominals rippled on his narrow waist. “Oh my god,” she said, her hands moving to rub his pecs. “Your muscles are so hard, even when they’re not even flexed.” The girl kissed him, then moved her mouth to his chest and bit on his nipple. She reached around to feel the outline of Greg’s tool in his jeans. “And your cock is so big.” “Do you like what you feel?” “I love what I feel.” "Ready to get naked?" he asked, picking her up like a doll and setting her on the bed. The girl nodded and pulled down her shorts. There was a damp spot in her panties that Greg couldn’t ignore. Greg reached down and undid his jeans and pulled down his pants and boxers. He put on one of the condoms he was required to carry with him at all times, and picked the girl up again like she weighed nothing. “Damn, that thing sure is big!” she moaned. She felt his big cock rub against her body, and she pressed her wet pussy against him. “Fuck me hard stud!” she told him. Greg sank inch after powerful inch into her body, and he felt like THE MAN. Like there was no finer specimen of masculinity on earth. And he was getting laid! “I’m just getting started....” he told her. And that was the truth. * * * Three hours later, Hank was still continuing to listen to the noises coming from the ceiling above him as the sounds and vibrations of Greg’s lovemaking permeated through the house. “I thought you put tranquilizers in those beers you gave him?” asked Hank “I did,” said Rich. “They could’ve knocked out a fucking rhinoceros!” “So why is that god damn Pi Epsilon Chi pledge still fucking Lambda pussy in my house!” Rich could see that Hank was pissed. But he didn’t have an answer, so he figured it was best to keep quiet. Just then, rather miraculously, the noises stopped. Hank and Rich raced upstairs and opened the door. Greg was passed out and the girl was still sitting on his dick. “I didn’t kill him,” she said, half hysterically. “He just passed out!” “That’s okay love,” said Hank, his excitement growing. “Get your ass out of here!” “NOW!” he shouted when she didn’t move fast enough. She scrambled off Greg’s dick, grabbed her clothes and raced out the door. Hank checked Greg, but he appeared to be out cold. His dick was still rock hard, pointing straight up. “Holy fuck,” breathed Hank, staring at it. “That’s amazing.” He turned to Rich. “Go get the Doctor. Tell him to get his ass in here now!” Rich raced out and after a few minutes came back with one of the guys from the house. “Shit dude,” said the new guy angrily. “I was banging my chick, what is so urgent...whoa! Is that a Pi Epsilon Chi brother?” “Even better! It’s a pledge!” said Hank excitedly. “That’s right dude, this is the one we’ve been waiting for.” “Excellent,” said the Doctor, grinning madly. “We just need to draw some blood.” Read the Next Part