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Part 1 "So how does this work again?" Paul asked. "Myostatin is like the brakes that stop your muscles from growing too big on their own. They get big enough for you to move around and function, but then it takes a stimulus like weight training to get them to grow anymore, and then the myostatin brings them back down if you don't keep that stimulus going.For some people, the myostatin goes out of control and the person doesn't have enough muscle to function even. Now, you're not one of those people, but you have some pretty strong mutations of myostatin that make it unlikely you'll build big muscles whatever you do. We've looked at trying to block the myostatin, but it's very short-term and temporary, like a couple days, and isn't practical for a normal person.We've tried just destroying the myostatin, but it's painful and it sometimes rebounds stronger afterwards as the body compensates. So now we're trying to alter the myostatin and we think we can actually turn it on and off." "Yeah, so you have ones with nano-switches?" "Yes, a little nano device is embedded in each copy of the myostatin. Your myostatin, actually. It's a strong mutation, but it has the perfect little docking point. With a bit of harmless radiation from us, it bends the myostatin into a non-functional shape that can't bind with the muscle to tell it to stop growing." "But it takes a month?" "You'll have to come in twice a week for an infusion of the new myostatin. At the end of the month, we'll take a muscle biopsy and check that the myostatin has been replaced." --- Five weeks later, Paul was back at the lab. The biopsy last week kinda hurt, and he hoped there weren't any more needles or shots. "Looks like a good concentration of the new myostatin in there, Paul. Now we'll just have you lie down in this scanner and I'll be in the next room." "Ok." They had him wear a light robe and he was cold, but he had to stay still. "So, we'll send out the frequency to turn them off and also be able to get a reading on their distribution at the same time." The machine loudly hummed a few different notes. "Ok, that's it, Paul." "I can get up?" he asked as the doctor came back into the room. "Yes. So, I'll let you get dressed. You might feel nauseous or weak, but that's temporary, very temporary. Let me know if anything feels worse than that, and I'll see you downstairs tomorrow morning at 10." The doctor was very excited. "The scan looked even better than expected," he said as Paul left. Paul left feeling groggy and grabbed a cheeseburger on his way home and crashed on his bed. --- Paul's roommate Sasha knocked on his door in the morning. "Hey, don't you have that appointment?" Sasha did not have the same myostatin problem, Paul had realized. He had dress pants on and was buttoning his shirt over a well-muscled chest. He came to the city for an advertising internship and Paul was very happy he answered his roommate ad. Paul was also happy Sasha felt comfortable around the apartment shirtless. "Oh, yeah, I'm just so tired." He looked over his own arm and chest and saw no overnight change. He got to the research center at 10:09. "You had me worried a bit, young man." "Sorry, I had trouble getting up this morning. So tired." "Huh, still? What did you have for breakfast?" "Breakfast? Usually just a coffee, but I had to have two today." "If we're going to see if this treatment can build muscle, you'll need calories. I have some protein supplements I was going to add to your diet, but I see you don't really have much of a diet to start with. I'll have to give you a meal plan. The best we can do for now is a shake and I think I have some oatmeal." The food felt good, Paul thought, and he definitely felt more awake. Paul had gone to the gym and followed a workout before, but the doctor was a sadist. He had a few machines that each hit a different muscle group and he had Paul use them all. "So, here we're getting a baseline, but I also want to try and stimulate that growth. We'll focus on working by bodyparts later." "I'm tired again," Paul complained, but all that got him was another protein shake, which did help. When they were done an hour later, Paul was feeling sore already. "Good," the doctor replied. "Drink lots of water or you're gonna really feel sore tomorrow." Paul left with a tub of protein powder, a list of groceries, and the doubt that he would make it home without collapsing. He stopped for a cheesburger again, but ended up eating three. "I hope the doctor doesn't mind some fat with the muscle," he thought. Meanwhile, the doctor rechecked the muscle sample he had collected from Paul last week. "That's odd," he said aloud.

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.

Check out Parts 1 & 1.1 first to keep track: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2085-muscle-buddies-chapters-1-15/ After making the playoffs at the end of the football season, Jeff wants to come out to the rest of the guys on the team, but Dustin keeps telling him that it isn’t going to help him if he does. After celebrating their last home game with the team, Jeff spends a little bit of time in the locker room having a ‘conversation’ with Dustin. The two studly teens laugh as they horse around near the lockers rolling on the floor and playfully punching each other. Without realizing it, they can hear a deep voice rumbling above them like they are trying to clear their throat. The two young men stop moving and look up at them. The man has a look on his face that makes them wonder if he is mad or not as they stand there with their arms in a dominant stance. The rest of the team has already showered and is leaving the dressing area to go home to prepare for the next game at this point. Dustin jumps to his feet and starts to move away from Jeff but not before the man grabs him by the arm. The man turns to look at him and points to the nearby bench. Dustin goes to sit down immediately afterwards. It turns out that the man is the coach that saw the two teenagers having sex before the football season began. He is also the assistant coach of the football team. The man is incredibly muscled, much larger than he was back when he caught them together. He turns back around and reaches down to pull Jeff up to his feet. The stunned teen is shirtless since he hasn’t yet showered from the game. The coach walks up to him and looks him straight in the eyes before pressing his immense body up against Jeff’s. He knows that the teen has tried to avoid him for weeks because of what happened that night. He grabs Jeff’s hands and puts them on his huge ass which is hugging his tight jeans. Dustin watches intently and even lets out a few moans. The coach grunts a few times before wrapping his arms around Jeff and picking him up. He starts using the muscled teen like a dumbbell curling him and lifting him up and down above his head and directly in front of his face. The man’s groomed beard brushes up against Jeff’s crotch each time to make him react. The coach eventually stops lifting him to watch the young man’s crotch pulse inside his football pants. He leans in to smell Jeff’s musk before running his tongue along the crotch. Dustin knows he should do something, but he finds the whole situation too hot. Jeff isn’t exactly trying to stop the man either since he has had his eye on the coach for as long as the season has gone on. Feeling his own cock stirring in his pants, Dustin gets up to go over and join the other two. He puts his hands around the front of the coach’s chest and pulls on the polo shirt he is wearing, ripping it open down the front which immediately makes the man drop Jeff onto the ground. He turns and yells at Dustin making his huge hairy chest flex as his pecs and abs swell. The force behind the pump makes the sleeves on his shirt shred as his bicep peaks appear through the fabric. Dustin doesn’t get far before he is tackled on the ground by the man. The man tells him to punch him in the chest which Dustin does without a second thought. He laughs and tells him to do it again as it pleases him greatly. He rips the rest of his shirt off and grins as he flexes his upper body again. He forces Dustin to rub his muscles and orders him to say how much he wants his body. Jeff is now scooting behind the coach and rubbing his crotch up against the older man’s ass. The man turns and orders him to take his pants off so he can see how much of a man he is becoming. Without much coaxing, Jeff pulls his pants and jock off to show his engorged cock which has been leaking precum for quite some time. The coach moans as he leans down to swallow the thick pole down his throat. Jeff yells in delight feeling his cock tickling the man’s throat. Dustin reaches underneath and up to unzip the man’s pants to pull them down. The coach’s huge bubble butt stares him in the face as the man’s nine-inch pole dangles towards Dustin’s legs. He pulls the coach down on to his face and shoves his tongue inside the man’s hole making the hugely muscled daddy moan as he continues to work Jeff’s cock over. Knowing that the muscled teen can’t hold out too long, he starts jerking Jeff rapidly as he pulls his cock out and looks up at the teen’s face smiling the whole time. He commands Dustin to keep rimming him as he playfully punches Jeff’s powerful chest with his free hand. Feeling the teen’s balls swelling to twice their size, he runs his tongue along Jeff’s slit hoping to summon the giant load from inside. Jeff can sense the flood moving into his cock and shoves his rod down the coach’s throat which surprises the huge man. He grips the huge teen as Jeff unloads down his throat making the coach moan deeply feeling it fill his insides. Dustin runs his hands along the man’s balls and cock feeling it tense like it is about to explode itself. He stops rimming the coach and slides his body down in time to feel a giant river of cum hitting his face and head. The coach flexes his massive legs and lowers his huge rod down onto Dustin’s mouth trying to get him to open it. He pulls Jeff’s cock out to tell him to do it or he will force him to take it up his ass. After resisting a few seconds, he gulps the hairy muscleman’s cock down and swallows what is left flowing from it. The coach grunts in satisfaction after finally doing what he has fantasized about all this time. He pulls his cock out of Dustin’s mouth and gets up. He pulls up the jeans he was wearing and grabs his shredded shirt before going into the shower area. The two muscled teens stare at each other and wonder what the hell just happened. They both smile before getting up from the locker room floor. Jeff walks over and sits beside Dustin. He leans in to lick the coach’s cum off the teen’s face and moans tasting the spunk before kissing his lover’s lips and holding him in his arms. They both think that their secret is safe with the coach, but they may have to do this again to make sure he keeps it hidden. If you enjoyed this, then read the next two chapters as well: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2102-muscle-buddies-chapters-2-3/

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.

From: [email protected] This is a story that I wrote years ago. Hope you guys like it! Meeting Rick True story...no lie! My name is John. Temporarily living in Philly. Moving back to L.A. in the fall. Was living in West Hollywood, CA at the time. It was about a year ago. Came back from a bar, hornier than hell. Decided to surf the internet and wound up in that Muscle Room on Gay.com. Me: 6'/190/masc btm/work out/br/br/Italian good lks/hry ch & abs/8.5 thick inches/into worshiping huge muscle freaks! Well this guy named Rick popped onto the screen and asked if I wanted to chat in private. "Sure", I said. He told me he lived up north and was into phone sex. I told him I hadn't tried it before but was curious. "What do you look like?" I asked. "I'm 6 feet...same as you...but a lot bigger...250 and hard as rock! Spanish...could pass for Italian. 54" chest...22 inch arms...34 inch waist...some light chest hair, mostly around my nips and between my pecs...real hairy six-pack and thick powerful hairy legs. Real strong too!" He got me so horny talkin' about himself I decided to give him my phone number. I couldn't believe how hot this guy made me over the phone. We must have chatted for 2 hours, jerkin' off together. He said I made him hornier than anyone he ever chatted with. We hit it off so well we became regular chat buddies. A few months later he said he had business in L.A. and wanted to meet. With a little hesitation, I agreed. I'd heard about so many fakes on the net that I wasn't sure if I could go through with it. He called me when he arrived in town and talked me into letting him drop by my place. We decided on a time. What would he look like? We hadn't even exchanged pics! Would he be as big as he said he was over the phone, or just a fake? His voice made me so hot I just had to meet him! There was a knock on the door. I hesitantly opened it. I couldn't believe my fucking eyes! This huge monster was standing at my doorway. He wasn't gorgeous, but good looking in a real masculine sort of way. Dark brown hair cut real short...military style, and a day's growth of beard. He wore a real tight white short-sleeve button-down shirt and tight-fitting jeans. He smiled, put his arms up over his head so that he was holding onto the top of the door frame and leaned in a little. He teased me by flexing just enough to make his lats spread slightly and to show off the thickness of his arms. He pressed his elbows against the sides of the doorway and began pushing. I swear I could hear the frame craking from the pressure. He walked in and closed the door behind him. "Oh my God!" I said. He touched my lips with his index finger to hush me. Then he raised his right arm up and began to flex it. "Feel it!" he said. I molded my hand around it as he flexed it. "Holy shit, man...it's huge!" I said as I felt the thickness of it through his shirt sleeve. "Feel it!" he kept saying as he flexed it harder and harder. I could see it growing in front of me. "Feel the power of it John!" He kept flexing it as hard as he could. His arm started shaking from the stress. He shouted "I CAN'T STOP FLEXING IT JOHN...GGRRR...GGGRRRR!!" With that the sleeve began to actually split! I couldn't believe it. This guy's shirt was actually ripping from the pressure of his bicep flexing. "OH MY GOD!" I kept saying as his bicep started peaking out of the material. He kept flexing it harder and harder until the seam split completely. "YEAH!!" he yelled. Then he pressed his body into me, pushing me against the living room wall. I could feel his hard cock against mine through our jeans. He raised his other arm up so he was in a double-bi position. He flexed his lats and bi's so hard that the seams on both sides of his shirt ripped and the other shirt sleeve ripped at the same time. "HOLY SHIT!!" I yelled, positioning both my hands on his biceps. He kept grunting louder and louder while he flexed, splitting the seams so that his veiny lats and bi's were completely visible. Then he put his arms down and began flexing his chest. His top button was already open. I could see the deep hairy line between his pecs. His chest started expanding, stretching the material until the three top buttons popped exposing his thick muscle. "Un-fuckin'-believable!" I said with a dropped jaw. I placed my hands on his upper chest, feeling the striated muscle as he flexed for me. "YEAH JOHN...FEEL THIS FUCKIN' MUSCLE!!" Then he picked me up underneath both my armpits...and I wrapped my legs around him. He humped me for a while then carried me into my bedroom. We both stripped out of our clothes, both our cocks pointing straight up at each other. He looked me deep in the eye, then knelt down in front of me. He raised up his right arm again. That one had the most veins! He flexed it slightly, but not completely, and positioned my cock between his bicep and forearm. He started flexing it as hard as he could. I felt his bicep and forearm as he did this. It felt so hard...like rock...veins crawling all over it! "GGGRRRRRR...FEEL MY POWER...FEEL THE POWER OF THIS ARM...FEEL IT!!!" I couldn't believe he was doing this to me. I began to feel faint from the excitement. "Stop...I don't want to cum yet" I yelled. With that he let go. But instead of giving me a break, he placed my cock between his huge pecs. He wrapped his arms around my hips...pulling me into him. At the same time, flexing his pecs so hard they surrounded my cock. I could feel the thickness of them around my cock. I could feel the hair between his pecs on the underside of my cock as I pushed against him. While he flexed, I began grinding my cock against him, literally fucking his pecs. "Yeah man...fuck this muscleman's pecs...yeah...come on...come on!! I CAN"T STOP FLEXING JOHN!!!" I couldn't believe how hot this felt! "GOD!!" I yelled. I guess he could tell that I was about to cum and finally let go of his grip. He got up and looked over at the corner of the bedroom. I wondered what he was looking at. He walked over to my curling bar and took the weights off of it. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked. "This is for later!" he said. He pushed me onto the bed, lying the bar next to me. He propped some pillows under my head and shoulders so that I could see him better. Then he took me by the legs and positioned my calves so that they were lying on his shoulders. I could feel his fingers lubing my hole. He leaned over me...both his huge ham-like arms along each side of me. I could feel the tip of his cock against my hole. He pushed the tip of it in to tease me. "Ready for this muscleman to fuck you John???" I was speechless! With a roar he shoved his cock into me so hard I thought I would go through the fucking headboard! I reached up to grab his huge massive pecs. I cupped my hands around them. I could feel the weight of them bouncing slightly as he pounded his cock into me. He must have fucked me for an hour. I couldn't get enough of him...feeling his pecs...arms...shoulders. He was so massive...his chest was like hair covered rock with thick and thin veins crawling all over it...branching out to his shoulders...leading down to his heavy ham-like arms. I couldn't stop feeling him. He kept flexing over and over again while he fucked me. Groaning...yelling...screaming while he flexed. He was an animal! He raised his arms up in a double-bi. He flexed them so hard they double peaked. I held onto them while he flexed and fucked me. "Yeah you fuckin' animal...fuck me...fuck me you bull!!!" With that he grabbed the curling bar beside me. He placed it behind his neck and started straining. "No...he wasn't going to try and bend this. No way!" I thought. He strained harder and harder. Veins were popping out everywhere, his skin was turning deep red too. I couldn't believe it. He was trying to bend the fucking bar while he fucked me! "GGGRRRRR...GGGGGRRRRR!!" I thought the veins in his head were going to pop. The bar actually began to bend. I couldn't believe it! I could feel his cock getting thicker and harder inside me as he was bending it. "OH MY GOD!" I yelled. I kept feeling his arms as he was bending the bar. Muscles on muscle were popping out everywhere! He kept moaning and yelling...straining every muscle until the bar was almost a U-shape. "FEEL THE POWER!! FEEL MY FUCKIN' POWER" he yelled. With that I could feel him explode inside of me...his warm cum filling me up. I came too...my cum flew everywhere...in the air...back down on me...onto his chest...everywhere. I came harder than I ever did before...I must have shot at least twelve time! He threw the bar down and collapsed on top of me. He kissed me and then whispered in my ear "Nice to finally meet you John!" OK! Well it isn't really true. But hey...it could happen! Any big guys out there want to make my fantasy cum true. Either here in Philly or when I get back to L.A.??? Drop me an e-mail! -JOHN

Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3688-packmates-werewolf-muscle-growth-part-1/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3689-packmates-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3691-packmates-part-3/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4526-packmates-part-5/ When we got back to the house Jace was waiting by a table full of drinks bottles. They all had a purple fluid in them but no-one questioned it as we were all too thirsty "Good, you guys did well. We're gonna be doing the same thing every morning. Be ready at the same time or you'll be left behind, with Ragnar" warned Logan before he took a large swig of his drink and walked over to me. "You feeling okay still?" he asked quietly. I shook my head and panted, "I-I need to lie down" "Well lucky for you the real training starts tomorrow. Don't worry you'll get used to it" he encouraged. I just nodded and forced myself to drink more of the purple fluid. "Hey Layton" said a deep voice from behind me. I turned around and looked up to find Fenrir. He was wearing an incredibly tight red tank top and 'baggy' shorts which hid nothing. "Hey Fen... Didn't see you running" I said between breaths. Fenrir grinned at me before lowering himself to my level - by sitting on his plump ass. "Probably because I wasn't running with you guys. I was patrolling. Anyway, Miranda wants to see you. She's in the grove and once she's finished with you come find me" he instructed before giving me a wink and taking a drink from his own bottle. I blushed impulsively and left quickly. I knew that I shouldn't let myself be bossed around as an 'alpha' but seeing as he was twice my height and five times my size I thought it'd be in my best interests to obey. I reached the grove and found Miranda sitting on the chest full of spell tomes. Two other people were there, Asad and one of the older welsh guys. "Ahhh you're all finally here" said Miranda happily. "The three of you are the only trained mages we have, so I'm going to be teaching you how to use everything you've learnt in combat - seeing as you can't always surprise someone with a lightning bolt" she turned to face me and grinned. "Geralt, Asad you two will be pairing up. Layton you and I will be doing some one on one" she instructed, before grinning flirtatiously. "Now start reading, your knowledge of spells is a bit crap from what I've heard" As I studied Geralt and Asad blasted each other with: fire, ice, electricity and what I was told was pure arcane power. It was a little distracting seeing as reading spell tomes was tiring and required your attention as they disintegrated as soon as they were read. A few hours later Miranda walked back into the grove and told us all to stop. She walked over to me and smiled before whispering in my ear "Fenrir wants to see you, I hope you can handle him" Feeling a little nervous I made my way out the glade and back into the house. It was oddly quite and I didn't see anyone as I walked to corridors to Fenrir's room. "What am I doing?" I thought to myself as I knocked the door. When it opened I was greeted by this thick thighs and tight abs. The rooms on this floor all seemed to be scaled up to fit people of Fenrir's size, though he still looked too big. He was wearing baggy jogging bottoms and a tight T-shirt. "Hey there little guy, glad you could make it" he said as he stepped out of the way to allow me entry. I walked inside and he closed the door before turning around to me "So what'd you wanna talk to me about?" I asked nervously. He grinned down at me, his wolfish eyes making me nervous "Well firstly I wanted someone to talk to about Ragnar, we don't really talk about feelings and crap but I wanna make sure he's okay. I also wanted to test out my new alpha, I mean you're certainly intelligent but you've got a long way to go" Fenrir lead me over to his large bed and lay down. "But I can teach you" "Teach me what?" I questioned nervously as I hovered next to the bed. He locked eyes with me and looked down at the bed, for a moment I resisted but it only took one small growl to make me drop down onto the bed next to him. "That," he replied triumphantly as he put his enormous hand around me " how to make people bend to your will" he moved pulled me closer and I could feel a comforting heat emanating from him, as his masculine woody aroma filled my head. "Alpha's should be dominant and strong so that they can command respect." He moved his hand lower and I instantly stopped him "But you can't expect people to follow your orders blindly" he went lower once more and I tried to resist but it was futile; I never even moved my hand. "So tell me, why should I stop?" I grab his hand and zapped him a little "Because if you don't I'll have to punish you" I replied before grinning and looking up at him "It'll be very easy to take your food away, put you on a diet, mess with those chains of yours. As quick as a flash you'll be shrunk down to my size and I know you don't want that" I threatened. Fenrir stopped moving his hand and pulled me on top of him "Very good, but until you can actually do that... You're mine" he flirted as he then rolled the two of us over so that he was on top. He began to kiss my neck and grind against me as I heard the door open. Soon enough Fenrir was rolled over once more, pulling me with him. "What did I say Fen? Until he's a werewolf you're to keep your hands off him" grunted Ragnar as he pinned Fenrir to the bed. "You handled him pretty well Layton but I'll take it from here" and with that Ragnar bit into his T-shirt and ripped it off him before forcing him down with one hand and pulling off Fenrir's jogging bottoms revealing a jockstrap that was packed to the max and slowly straining to keep in Fenrir's growing erection. Ragnar had entered the room naked so there was no need for him to undress. He also looked bigger than ever, pushing on eleven foot and he must've weighed well over a tonne. "C'mon Ragnar, don't be angry" said Fenrir as he grinned and stroked Ragnar's mountainous chest "I was wondering how long it would take for this to happen" "For what?" asked Ragnar as he snapped his fingers, making chains appear around Fenrir's body. "I'm gonna take a leaf out of Layton's book Fen" Ragnar then looked over at me and I understood what the chains were for. I grinned at Fenrir and cast the spell to force him to shrink down. His muscles began to deflate and he snarled at us "Fuck off!" he spat at me before Ragnar got off him and helped him up. Fenrir was now half the size of Ragnar and hating it. Ragnar picked him up with one hand and held him against the wall "I'd be scared of Layton if I were you Fen, you might end up like this permanently." warned Ragnar as he got closer to Fenrir and whispered something to him and then ripping off the chain again with his large canine teeth. Fenrir's body began to expand once more. His pecs filling up until they pushed Ragnar away slightly and his cock lengthening until it grinded against Ragnar's the two of them then embraced tightly and then looked down at Layton. "Come on cub, lets get to dinner" "At least put some clothes on" I requested as I turned to them. Ragnar just grinned and walked over to me so his crotch hung against my face "There's nothing wrong with letting it all hang loose" he teased as I felt his humongous cock brush my cheek. Fenrir did the same on my other side and I rolled my eyes "You know I never thought my life would ever be like this, telling hot guys to put their dicks away" I sighed as I walked out of the room. When we reached the hall it felt a lot more packed as a lot of the men were still in their giant states. Logan was still just as small but as I watched him arm wrestling Bear - who was over twice his height - and win I couldn't help but smile as he then put his hand on Bear's thigh and grinned. "Layton!" said Brad happily as he grabbed me in a hug and lifted me up a good foot off the floor. "Hello Brad, you've gotten bigger" I noted as I smiled up at him. "You've gotten smaller" he replied as he sat down. I felt myself brush against his crotch. I knew he was wearing some kind of clothing but I still wasn't expecting it. "Brad, what did I say? Hands off until he's a werewolf" said Ragnar as he put both hands on Brad's shoulders. He let go of me and smiled as Ragnar grabbed him in a headlock "I'm gonna have to punish you now" Ragnar looked over at Alpha "give some of your food to Alpha and we'll speak no more of your punishment okay?" Brad obeyed without complaint and I sighed as he walked away "C'mon he didn't squeeze me that hard" I excused, rubbing my arms. "Maybe not this time but he doesn't know his own strength, he's broken bones like that before. It's better just to nip it in the bud whilst you're human. Once you're a werewolf he can hug you all he wants. I just don't want you getting hurt" said Ragnar as we sat down at Angus' table. Ragnar was going around each table at meal times so he could catch up with everyone. A lot of the Scotts were wearing kilts which barely covered their manhood and nothing on their chests. I wasn't complaining, they certainly gave me something nice to look at. Angus was pitching a tent in his kilt as Ragnar sat next to him and put his arm around Angus' enormous body. As everyone was at their natural size apart from Ragnar a lot of people dwarfed him, though no-one tried to take advantage of the difference as they all knew Ragnar would beat them with ease. "So Layton, you fancying some Angus beef?" teased Angus as he moved up next to me. He had a black leather kilt and I noticed he had a few piercings, one nipple and his belly button though rumour had it he and a few of his Pack members had some 'phallic' piercings. "I'd rather have some of Jace's cooking. It looks fresh" replied Layton cheekily as Angus put his arm over him. "You won't know till you try it" added Ragnar as he grinned over at Angus. "Maybe I'll try it when it won't rip me in half" I replied as Jace set down our plates of food "Thankyou" "Where would be the fun in that?" teased Angus as he stoked my thigh. "Angus, don't tease him" said Ragnar as he put his hand lower down Angus' back "or I'll show you something that could split you in half" Angus' kilt slowly lifted up higher till his throbbing cock was visible. Ragnar grinned and began to eat. I was just amazed by it's size, as he was incredibly large now and already bred like a bull his cock and hairy balls were as large as my chest in width, height but it was a lot more in breadth. "You know it's hard to feel like an Alpha when your Pack members members are almost bigger than you" I muttered as I dug into my own food. "Don't worry cub, I'll soon have you big enough to put Angus to shame" encouraged Ragnar as he finished off his food and patted Angus on the back. He then stood up and cleared his throat, causing the room to fall silent. "Okay, no offence but you all stink after today's run and it'll be even worse tomorrow. Starting from today we'll all be bathing together after training, so once you've finished eating come down to the communal showers" he ordered before sitting down. "You know cub if werewolf cum really is having an effect on you we might be able to bulk you up a little before we turn you. It'll make the whole thing a lot easier" said Ragnar as he put his arm back around me. "Well if you think this'll fit inside me you've lost your mind" I replied as I patted Angus' now semi flaccid member. Thirty minutes later I found myself in the steamy communal showers surrounded by horny, hairy, wet muscular men. I was loving it. "Hey Titan! C'mere" called Ragnar as he patted me on the shoulder. An incredibly large man thundered over to us, he had a mass of dark brown hair covering his face and his powerful impressive body looked like it had been crafted by gods. He was at least 7ft and probably somewhere between 450 and 500lb. His size however wasn't the most noticeable thing about him however as hanging between his legs were a set of bowling ball testicles and a dick that could make a horse envious. "Cub, meet Titan. Titan meet Layton" Titan grinned down at me and puffed out his chest. He was fairly intimidating and I was fairly certain he was the Welsh quarter's aggressive Beta. "I've asked him to help buff you up. As you can see he's a very fine specimen" As Ragnar spoke Titan bounced his pecs for me and grinned even more. "We're gonna have a lot of fun together" he promised in what was probably the most masculine voice I'd ever heard (Apart from Ragnar's). "Now if you two'll excuse me I have a pain-in-the-arse" to deal with" grumbled Ragnar as he spotted Bane. "So Layton, I hear you're still not a werewolf yet" said Titan as he moved closer to me, I moved back under the stream of hot water coming from the shower and smiled. "No, I'm kinda immune to it" I replied. Titan put his hand on the wall next to my head and stroked my waist with his other. "We'll see" he flirted as he looked down and saw my growing erection. "Wanna see mine?" He grabbed his dick and stroked it a little getting it hard until it smacked against his perfectly sculptured abs. He bared his perfect set of teeth and ordered me to turn around. I did so only because I knew that I needed his cum in order to help toughen up. In any other circumstance I wouldn't back down so easily. "Good boy, now I hope you're ready. I can do serious damage to normal guys" he teased as he rubbed his dick between my ass cheeks. It was larger than Ragnar's in his smallest form and it was already dripping wet from the shower and his own pre. "I'm ready, I hope you're good. It'd be a shame if you failed at the last hurdle" I replied as he grinned at me and thrust his rock-hard pecker into my ass and wrapped his arm around me. "Don't worry, when I'm done with you you'll be cumming for days" he growled flirtatiously as I groaned in pleasure as his dick swelled within me slightly. After half an hour he finally released his load into me. He kissed my cheek and pulled out before pinching my ass a little "I hope you use it well" he said as I leant against the wall. I felt so full, but as I concentrated the feeling lifted and was replaced my a sudden pressure in my chest. I felt thick fibres of muscle grow across my chest as my fairly unimpressive torso suddenly became filled with mouth-watering mass. Suddenly I had pecs, I HAD PECS. The feeling spread along my arms as they swelled up and thickened. Usually they made me look ridiculously skinny seeing as I was tall and had a kind of broad back. Now they made me look powerful, their smooth bulbous peaks like magnified versions of my now very visible and ripped abs. My legs swelled with them in proportion, however after the feeling left me they still gave way and collapsed onto the floor. "Woah, careful there little cub. The first time is always hard you don't wanna push yourself" warned Titan as he helped me up "But I'm impressed Layton, I didn't think you'd react so well seeing as you're 'immune'" "Thanks" I mumbled as I leant against him, completely exhausted. "Heh, lets get you upstairs then, big pup" he teased as he lifted me into his arms and walked out of the room, turning off the lights and the water. "Ragnar! Come have a look at your new pup" called Titan as we reach the main living room - which was usually taken over by the Scotts. I heard his heavy footprints as he approached the two of us. I smiled at him as Titan let me down. "You're looking good cub" flirted Ragnar as I looked up at his humongous frame "come take a seat" He lead me over to the plush couch and as I went to sit down an ear-wrenching howl split the air as I looked down and realised I had stepped on a large creature's tail. As I turned I saw a large German Shepard growling at me, but as soon as Ragnar cleared his throat the dog stopped and began wagging it's tail, sniffing me and then pushing me into the couch. "Meet Burke, my top guard dog" said Ragnar as Burke wandered over to a group of dogs in the corner of the room. They were all different breeds, all of them larger than usual for any dog. I could see a husky, a boxer, a Great Dane and even a Whippet. "They looked pretty relaxed for guard dogs" I replied as I noticed Rag towering above them all. "Yeah they're on their break right now whilst we wait for the werelions, bears and Snow" replied Ragnar as he put his arm around me. "More people?" I replied, astounded. We were already filled to capacity and I was worried that more people might make people a bit... Grouchy. "From the reports I've received nowhere is safe for the big Packs. If we have any hope of beating the Fallen we'll need a lot of help" he replied before I questioned, "Wait who's Snow?" Knock Knock! "Hmm maybe you'll find out" said Ragnar temptingly as he stood up and walked towards the door, the dogs all followed him. "RAGNAR! Where's my favourite Alpha?" called a deep voice from the lobby, it reverberated through the entire house and made sure there was an audience when we arrived. Standing in a circle of our more aggressive Pack members was a twelve foot god of a man. "There you are" stated Snow as he held out his arms to Ragnar, who was slowly growing to match Snow's size. They embraced and the Pack were put at ease. "I'm glad you came" said Ragnar in a surprisingly soft voice. Once they ended he turned to the Pack "Meet the Passive Beta" he announced before turning back to him "Where's Bruak?" "He went to check on his horses, he'll be in soon" he replied as Ragnar went over to his crystal wife. "Right, we need to sort out the space in here. It's gonna get way to crowded soon". The statue began to glow and the entire house seemed to shimmer slightly "Rue, alter the house to maximum room. Small areas and extra large, Thankyou" he said out loud before the entire house began to grow larger until it looked more suited to someone of Ragnar's height. Afterwards he sat down on the floor looking incredibly tired. "C'mon big guy lets get you a seat. You're starting to look like an old man." teased Snow as he pulled Ragnar up and threw his arm over his shoulder. "Fuck me, what happened to the place?" cried out Craig as we were suddenly dwarfed by our surroundings. "Don't worry, your rooms and areas will still be suited to your size. I suggest you all go and do anything that's been asked of you and keep the noise down - you don't want to wake the Big Guy" said Snow as a few of the Alphas went to try and take charge - not happy that they were being bossed around by Snow. However, a single look silenced them all. His eyes moved mere millimetres and his lip raised slightly but it was enough to silence them and send them packing. I however knew that I was safe to follow him, even if I wasn't I wanted to make sure Ragnar was okay. Snow took him to our room and curiously went into the bathroom with him. When I looked inside I saw it had been transformed too, it now had a large hot tub in it. Snow, Ragnar and probably about five other pack members could fit in it. "Come on big guy" grunted Snow as he lowered Ragnar into it. "Pull that lever over there little guy" he ordered as he went back into the bedroom. I did as he said, the only problem I had was the lever was for people more Ragnar's size so I had to jump just to grab it, even then I had trouble. When the he walked back in (buck naked) Snow have me a strange look "That really is your actual size?" "Yes..." I replied trying not to show my embarrassment. When the lever clicked water began to flow into the tub and Ragnar groaned and shuffled about. Snow put a pillow under his head and then undressed. "Is that your actual size?" I asked as his member slapped against his shin. It was quite literally bigger than me in every aspect. "Would you feel bad if I said no?" he replied grinning a little as he lowered himself into the tub. "I wouldn't be surprised" I replied as I moved over to Ragnar's head. "Takes a lot to knock this guy out, what's going on?" "You're a Mage you understand how magical energy works. He exhausted himself, he's getting old." Ragnar let out a mighty growl and Snow knocked him and laughed "He just doesn't like to admit it" Layton stood up and grinned before going towards the door "Call me when Grandpa's finished with his bath then" he teased as Ragnar growled again (if a little softer this time). "Alright cub" called Snow as he settled down. "Oh and tell Bruak where to find me" Wondering the house after Ragnar's renovation was like walking through an Escher painting. One minute I could comfortably look at myself in one of the mirrors and the next I'd be dwarfed by potted plants the size of trees. Luckily when I reached the main living room that the Scott's used everything was normal. I found Logan arm wrestling yet again, Angus was taking up the entire couch with his bulk, but men were laying all over him as they chatted. Everything seemed a little too relaxed seeing as we were meant to be at war. That's when the TV suddenly switched to a News bulletin (I didn't even know that could really happen). Heathrow airport was in flames. The room fell silent. Sorry for the sudden serious ending And the wait I didn't know which direction I wanted to take the story :S

Hope U R all having and are going 2 have a very Merry Christmas..? Heres the last 3 chapters of my festive mg story.. Part 3 Jacob awoke groggily to find himself hanging upside down. For a moment he was too dazed to know what had happened. Then, as his faculties cleared, he was sharply brought back to reality.. He had been in a car accident. The car had landed on its roof and Jacob was upside down in the car and still buckled into his seatbelt,which had almost certainly had saved him from being catapulted out of the the car through the shattered and now missing windscreen. He turned to look at the driver, the guy who had given in to giving him a lift. Daniel was also still hung in his seatbelt upside down, but he seemed unconscious.. Blood trickled from a deep cut on his head closest to his door and the roof on his side had caved in considerably,squashing the door,blocking access. Jacobs first instinct was to unlock his seatbelt to try to attend to Daniels potentially life-threatening wounds. When he managed to free himself he slumped with a thud onto his upper neck and shoulders and suddenly cried out in agony as a sharp pain ran through his right shoulder. Jacob tentatively propped himself up the right way,wincing as he felt more sharp pain through what could have been a dislocated shoulder or even a fracture to his collar bone. This was'nt the place to diagnose injuries just yet. The ice cold wind was blowing the snow stingingly through the broken windows as Jacob focused himself into extracating Daniel from his seat and getting help.. He fumbled to release Daniels seatbelt and eased the older guy from the drivers seat as best as he could.Daniel groaned and stirred slightly as it seemed evident he was drifting in and out of consciousness.Jacob gritted his teeth,trying to use a quick burst of strength to cut out his own pain as he hauled Dan from his seat and through the smashed passenger window.''Don't worry buddy.. Gonna get you some help. You''ll be good in no time''. Now outside of the vehicle for the first time Jacob tried to get his bearings in his winter cloaked surroundings.The car had come to rest on its roof down a sharp slope against a tree, having turned over several times down the steep incline. Jacob could hardly see too far,such was the aggressiveness of the wind blowing the falling snow into a near horizontal sheets of icicles that stung at Jacobs face. This weather was beginning to turn into a blizzard. Jacob swung his hood over his face and then hauled out his bag and used it as a pillow to prop up Daniels head,and covering his face with his own scarf,trying to use the car as much as possible as shelter from the howling white-out.With a bit more digging,Jacob had found in the trunk,Daniels packed bags and pulled out another coat and another scarf. He covered Daniel and used the scarf as best as he could to tend to the nasty cut on Daniels temple. It seemed as if Daniels head had hit the side of his drivers door as it caved in during the cars roll down the slope and Jacob could'nt tell just how bad Dans head injury was.. He needed medical help immediately. Jacob tried his phone but there was no signal. Cursing,he nearly threw it in anger into the nearby snow but thought better of it and shoved it back into his coat pocket.Looking up through the near blinding snow, he thought about clambering up onto the road to call for help from a passing motorist.. ''Hey buddy..be right back.. You just hang in there..'' Jacob snapped off a thick bare branch from part of the tree that had fallen of in the impact of the car against it, and using it as a prop,he tried to scramble up through the deepening snow to the edge of the road.Tired and aching from the pain in his shoulder,he reached the top and stumbled into the road.For as much minutes as he dared spare leaving Dan, he stamped up and down the road calling for help and waiting anxiously for a car to come by.Finally frustrated, he slid back down to the car and to Daniel and lightly tapped him on his cheek.''Hey buddy.. You still with me..?''Daniel groaned and moved his head slightly,and muttered. ''Jeff..?''In Dans semi-conscious state,he could see Jeff looking down and smiling at him.. Jacob was at least this bit relieved that Dan was still holding on,but he still needed help.. He shouted at the top of his lungs for help..And for a few minutes all he could hear was the howling of the wind and the crwaking of the trees. He gritted his teeth in anger.''Not like this.. Not fucking like this..''He did'nt want to end up frozen to death in the wilderness,..like Jack Nicholson freezing in the Maze at the end of The Shining..! Suddenly,the wind seemed to die down just that slightly for Jacob to hear what sounded faitnly like bells jingling.This first sign that someone,..anyone, could be out in this white-out could potentially mean survival. Spurred on,he jumped to his feet and tried to focus his ears and eyes on the sound..Then,..through the snowfall he could see a misty image that gradually became clearer as it drew nearer.''Hey..over here...Help..Help.!'' A shape of a sleigh drawing through the snow greeted Jacob.. It was drawn by a single reindeer,harnessed in leather that was adorned with the bells Jacob thought he had heard.On the back and guiding the sleigh was a figure wrapped in a thick tawny brown fur or fur-like coat..a hood lined with grey-white fur or wool drawn over his head and hiding his face, and his trousers of similar tawn colour and fur. Even his boots seemed thick and woolen..Like this fella was used to the outdoors life in harsh wilderness. The sleigh pulled up close to the crashed car. ''Whoah there Blitzen..Good boy'' the stranger said apparently to his reindeer as if it was a pet. Jacob for a moment was rightfully overjoyed that help had arrived.''Hey mister, my friend needs help.. We crashed and now i think hes badly hurt.. We need to get him to a hospital fast..!'' The hooded stranger stepped off the sleigh,..itself covered in furs and a deep red woolen cover, and trudged through the snow over to where Daniel lay prone. He bent down and slipped his hand out of the thick brown gloves he wore and gently touched at Daniels wounds.The,turning to look up at Jacob, he slipped off the hood he was wearing to reveal the face of an old man who looked wizened with age.He had a thick white beard and wispy white eyebrows and a weathered and slightly reddened face that overall, to Jacob he seemed to look so calming and warm.''My boy,I'm afraid that this snowstorm has downed communications and getting him any help up here might take some time. The weather will close in as soon it will be nightfall...'' ''But you gotta do something..He could die for Christs sake..!'' Jacobs moment of glee faded somewhat. ''My cabin is nearby.. It has a welcoming fireplace,some needed warmth..and i have a gift at helping those in need.. Don't worry my boy.I will take care of him..Of both of you till the morning breaks..'' Why was it for some reason that Jacob felt at ease with this guy..? ''Come boy, lets help your friend onto my sleigh..'' Jacob helped the stranger load Daniel onto the sleigh and wrapped him in the furs and the red cover. ''On Blitzen..'' And with that command the sleigh set off through the snow. Part 4 The snow was falling heavily by the the time the old Outdoorsmans sleigh, carrying Daniels prone body, had reached his cabin deep in the pine forest.''Come help me take your friend inside'' prompted the old man to Jacob who for a moment stood dithering.. Together they propped up the board Daniel lay on and carried him into the cabin..''We'll put him on the couch by the fireplace to keep him warm as he recovers..'' said the old man as he nudged the wooden door open and nodded in the direction of a wood framed low couch cushioned with soft woolen pillows and earthen coloured woolen blankets that was placed in front a large stone set fireplace with a high mantlepiece and several thick logs already burning welcomingly in the wide fireplace. The old outdoorsman and Jacob carefully lay Daniel down on the couch and covered him with the woolen blankets..''Do you have a phone in the cabin so we can at least try and call for some rescue.. Daniel might have some kind of bad head injury.?'' saidJacob as he scanned the large interior of the cabin looking for any sign for a link to communications to the nearest town. He could not readily seen any.The kindly old man spoke up ''I'm afraid with this blizzard howling,it may not be till morning until we can seek help for your friend here..". He stood up after making Daniel as comfortable as possible. He could see the worry in Jacobs handsome face.''Don't be worried. I'm certain that he will pull through with my help. I have, lets say, a certain magic about me that may aid my tending of his wounds that i know are not as grave as you fear..'' Jacob fidgeted uncomfortably over Daniel. ''How can you be so sure..?'' ''Oh don't worry..I have a had plenty of time on this earth to gather some good enough medicinal knowledge.....a few centuries at least..!'' said Nick as he headed away through an adjoining door to another room,but hesitated before passing through to glance back at the boy "Oh,my name is Nicholas by the way.." Jacob did'nt click to Nicholas' last few words.he just shuffled slightly,answering his and Daniels name clearly distracted with worry,to pay attention fully to what Nicholas had just said. Finally relaxing a little,his eyes had wandered off Dan for once as he looked around the cabin,noticing boughs of evergreen holly spotted with ruby red berries,and trails of cut Ivy and Fir branches hanging along the inner eaves or hooked onto the pine log walls. The cabin itself felt welcoming with its natural light wood furnishings and plaid red and green textiles and curtains,a plush fur-like rug positioned between the caramel upholstered three-piece suite placed around a low oak trunk coffee table...In all, a traditional family cabin in the forest.. Dan stirred and groaned,drawing back Jacobs attention, just as Nick returned from the kitchen with a red cloth draped over his shoulder,carrying a tray with a clay bowl full of steaming liquid and what looked to be a clay mortar and pestle to which he set down on a small stool next to Daniel. ''Whats that..?'' queried Jacob, as Nick dampened the cloth in the warm water,the steam wafting up to Jacob and the smell reminded him of spices.. ''Oh, its a remedy that will fix any injuries he might have taken to his head..'' Nick dabbed the cloth over Daniels forehead,then folded it it and lay it like a cold cure remedy across his forehead,propping Dans head up on a pillow.. Dan responded with a groan in his semi-conscious state. ''You think that some kind of homeopathic medicines like this can cure him of a brain injury, just like that..?'' said Jacob finding Nicks simple home medicinal deeds a little incredulous.. 'Nick just smiled ''Have faith my friend''. Jacob watched with uncertainty as Nick pulled out a small cloth bag tied with string from his inside pocket,unfastened the string and gently poured the powdery contents into the 'pestle'..cup and then poured a little of the bowls liquid into it,grinding and stirring it up with the mortar.. For a moment,Jacob thought he could see the powder glitter like stardust but shook his head. Nick gently lifted Daniels head and eased the cup to his lips,trying to stir him enough into a moment of consciousness for him to drink the contents.''Come on buddy, drink up...come on,...this will make you feel better'' Daniel weakly opened his mouth and took several slow sips of the water before Nick rested his head back. Jacob glanced out of the window hoping the snow had lessened. It had'nt one bit.. But through the blizzard,towards the shelter where Nick had placed his Reindeer,he could see another one nuzzling against Blitzen,and for a brief moment he thought he could see a faint red glow near its nose. 'Fuck,...i must be tripping.!' he thought, rubbing his eyes before looking out and now just seeing two ordinary Reindeer in the shelter. When he turned around,Jacob nearly jumped out of his skin.. Nick was standing right next to him,smiling..''I have given your friend a something to help him heal,not just his physical wounds but the wounds to his emotions as well..A little sleep will help him out'' He followed Jacobs gaze out the window across to the the deer shelter.''Oh thats just Rudy,..he helps me find my way on certain foggy nights.'' Jacob suddenly remembered Nicks comments about 'centuries of experience..!' ,and a thought came across his mind.'No, thats just rediculous..'' he said as he shook the thought out of his head.Nick just smiled at him as he let Jacob realise just who he was..''No..no, this is just too stupid.. You can't be...'' Jacob was placing the small things together.. A jolly,white bearded old fellow called Nick,in a sleigh drawn by a Reindeer called Blitzen,..and another called Rudy...RUDOLPH..!'' Then as the realisation dawned on just who he was speaking to, Jacob stumbled back,almost tripping over the armrest of the couch Dan now lay asleep.. ''You can't be him..!'' he said,wide-eyed. Nicks face seemed suddenly radiant and his eyes all twinkly in the light of the roaring fire. ''Who would you call me..?'' ''Santa Claus..!'' said Jacob,mouth agape like a catfish. ''Santa,Father Christmas,Pere Noel,Kris Kringle...St,Nicholas..whatevers suited best..!'' said Nick.. ''What are you doing way out here in the forest..?'' said Jacob,trying to find some kind of rational answer for this amazing situation. ''Christmas Eve is not for a few days. Even i'm entitled to a little R&R..!'' ''But if you are such a magical being,then why can't you just make this storm stop and whisk us on your flying sleigh off to the nearest town..?''Jacob said,sobering up to this strange reality. ''Its not as simple as that..I do'nt really control the weather..Why'd you think i'd ask a Reindeer with his 'nose so bright' to guide my sleigh on foggy nights..?'' They both glanced out of the window across to the deer shelter where Rudys nose was now shining brightly red..affirming the unbelievable situation Jacob was now in.. ''I'm just as stuck here til morning as you,my young friend.'' And,reading Jacobs face he added before the boy said anything. ''..And though i can heal people of most wounds, i cannot heal them just like that..'' Nick emphasised the last word by clicking his fingers..''Healing someone takes a lot of my energy..'' Jacob started pacing up and down. ''This is just too freaky..!'' Nicholas moved to stop Jacobs pacing by gently holding onto his arm. ''..But there is something i can do for you both..'' Jacob glanced down at Daniel then at Nicholas. ''What..?'' '' I know your heart is heavy with the lack of love and companionship. You have felt betrayed by those you thought loved you dearly. But if he finds it in his own heart to love again,you will find him a dear and committed partner..'' Nicholas glanced down at Daniel and Jacob knew.. ''But we have only just met.. And this guy is dealing with the grief of losing someone he loved.. What am i to him..?'' ''You can be the one to make him feel love again,to heal that sorrow.'' Feeling a little awkward, Jacob spoke what was on his mind..''But he is not really my type of guy..'' ''Oh,but once he finds his way,he will become 'your type'.. But love is not all based upon looks..Its whats in the heart.'' Jacob smiled. ''I stopped believing in you a long time ago. In my childhood i did not havethe greatest of times at Christmas..'' ''I know Jacob. When you stopped believing,there was no room for me..And for my part i was foolish to neglect you.. If there is a gift i could bestow upon you i will gladly offer it..?'' ''Well, theres one thing i've wanted.. What i've been training to become..''Jacob said furtively. Nicholas smiled knowingly..''You are training to become a top class bodybuilder. Bigger muscles...hmmm, not a gift i've often if ever granted, but,lets give it a try....'' On A Cold Winters Night : A Christmas Tale. Part 5 Daniel eyes were closed but yet he could see bright light through his lids..With a stretch of his body and a yawn he stirred into consciousness,slowly opening his eyes,and at first unaccustomed to such bright sunlight which greeted him.. Although his hearing was the first sense that kicked in... to the sounds of birds chirupping somewhere close by.When his sight finally cleared he took in his surroundings.He was laying on green grass beneath a huge old English Oak tree,feeling a gentle warm breeze blow across his exposed chest,..which soon sharpened his senses when he realised he was lying almost naked except for a pair of sky blue boxers. As he sat up he became aware of someone else sitting just behind him.Looking around at first he could not see the person,such was the brightness of the sun behind him,but as he let his eyes focus,when he saw just who was beside him his face went ashen white and his jaw fell agape.. ''Ah, Danny-boy, enjoy your little siesta..'' There,looking back at him with a radiant smile was Jeff,shirtless and revealing a smooth slender gym-toned torso.. With the bright sun haloed directly behind his head he looked like an Angel..! Daniels heart lept into his mouth and he felt like a dam was gonna burst full of tears. ''Jeff,but but...'' Daniel began to stutter,reeling with mixed feelings and emotions,hoping what he was seeing was'nt just a figment of his imagination.. Jeff quietly shushed him with a finger against Daniels lips,one hand holding a glass of champagne from a picnic laid out before them. ''Come now Daniel, my love...'' but Jeff could'nt finish... Daniel threw his arms around Jeff and drew him into an unbearably tight hug,causing Jeff to spill the champagne. ''Jeff, i've missed you so much it hurts..'' Daniel was unabashedly crying now,sobbing against Jeff bare muscled shoulder.. ''Everything will be alright now Daniel'' Jeff replied,placing the glass down and reciprocating the hug. ''You died.. Is it this heaven...Did i die..?'' Daniel,full of emotions just sputtered out questions ramdomly and rushedly to Jeff. Jeff hushed him. And they released each other from their embrace..Dans eyes never left Jeff,scanning him from his handsome face to his alluring bare torso.. ''Whats ahppened to you, you look so irresistably sexy and more toned than i could ever remember you..?'' Jeff just smiled,passed Daniel a glass of champagne and peered out from the Oak tree on the crest of a hill where they sat,taking in the wide open richly beautiful countryside around them..birds singing in the air and in the trees,butterflies fluttering across patches of flowers around them..the smell of pollen wafting in the air,...a church bell gently ringing from a spire that stood high above the red roofed cotswold stone cottages of a village in the near distance,nestled by a winding river glinting under the sunlight. ''You remember this place Daniel. Much Markham,England.We came here the summer..'' Jeff paused,smiling back at a beaming Daniel, who took a sip of the champagne,..before continuing.''...the summer before i died.'' He could see the smile fade on Daniels face.''Then are we dead... This IS heaven..Am i finally with you.?'' Jeff cupped Daniels face with his hand and then gently stroked the side of his face lovingly.. ''You are not dead.. I brought you here to this one place from your memory that held so much happiness and romance to you..'' Jeff paused again,noticing Daniels eyes begin to well up.. ''You were in an car accident during a harsh winters blizzard. There was a young man with you in your car but he is alright. A man of kind heart and warmth had found you both near the wreck and he took you to his cabin to tend to the wounds you have..'' Dans face showed signs of disappointment that his time with Jeff was not to be, and tears rolled down his cheeks.'' ''It is imperative that you find the will to carry on and fight to survive..'' Jeff said with such passion. 'But i want to be with you. Fuck my life.. My life is with you..'' Dans arm reached up and swept around and drew in the surroundings. ''Here is where i want to be with you..!'' Jeff smiled softly and he leaned in and gave Dan a short but loving kiss. ''Its not your time..'' Daniel broke in. ''No,..it IS my time.. What have i got to live for,without you..?'' ''You have everything to live for.'' Jeff replied sternly,cupping Dans head gently with both hands,framing his saddened face.. 'Listen to me...Its not your time...I will ALWAYS be with you..'' Jeffs hand reached down and he touched Daniel on his chest,above his heart.''..in here..!'' Daniel could see the sincerity and the truth inside Jeff emerald green eyes, as Jeff continued.. ''You remember that boy in the car with you,don't you....Jacob,the hitchhiker..?'' Jeff said knowingly. Dan nodded slightly in acknowledgement. ''You will find happiness with him,i know.. You will find the strength to carry on and to enjoy life again.. He himself has needed to find that kindred spirit,that endearing love to share, someone to make his own life better and worthwhile after the traumas of the short life he has had so far..'' Jeff could see the spark of doubt in Dans sorrowful eyes ''Believe me,this young man is more like me than you know.. He reminds me,...of me, when i was his age...Young,virile,...up for anything...Fit and healthy with a body that yearned of dedication and commitment from gym work-outs that i was too lazy to keep up..'' Dans spirit was picked up by this memory of their past,with the period when they both went through the ''gym bunny'' phase but could'nt keep up with sweat and toil of keeping their bodies in absolute perfection.. not that either of them were out of shape by their mid forties..! ''I remember,..but i'm 'getting on a bit now for all that muscle mary stuff.'' ''You're fifty,..not ninety..!'' replied Jeff,gently swatting Dan across the top of his head.. ''But i can help you with that.. Just promise me you will live,..that you will move on..?''. Daniels mind reeled. His heart was torn by the thought of never seeing jeff again,..of forgetting even what he looked like as time progressed. Jeff leaned in and gave Dan another short kiss.''I will always be with you in some form or another, in that big heart of yours,...in Jacobs eyes..'' Dan finally smiled again..''You said you can help me with my physique..?'' as he pulled Jeff in for a warm embrace and a more passionate kiss,his hands roaming across Jeffs tight six pack abs and smooth hairless chest. ''Oh yes,...just let your love flow..'' Jeff said between their increasingly erotic touching and petting. ''Stealing lines from the Bellamy Brothers..?'' Dan replied with a slight humourous grin, before both became pre-ccupied with lust. .... Up there, on that hill, a piece of Jeff flowed into Daniel,filling his heart with love, and filling his body with new found vigour...and youth. As they made love,the last vestiges of clothes discarded in passion..with each thrust of Jeffs cock into Daniel,Dan grew younger,more stronger.. His greying hair darkening into black like ink was being dyed into it.. The winkles of age and worry smoothening out and as the years ebbed backwards away,his face took on a beautiful male model look. Deep ice blue eyes framed with thin broad lightly arching eyebrows and a narrower slight upturned nose that gave him a cute elfin appeal. His rough lips becoming soft and moist and fuller,a potential for Dan to become a great kisser and great at something else he could wrap those luscious lips around..! With a slightest of pucker of those lush lips he could exude sexual sultriness that could make anyone who desired him,swoon weakly. A few days shadow of stubble on his chin just made him all the more sexier.. And the change did'nt end there.. As Jeffs angelic body pressed against his lover. As his tending hands took to every curve and course of Dans naked torso and arms, Daniel seemed to be invigorated with new found strength which then flowed increasing size into his smooth muscles. A tease of Jeffs fingers across Daniels once slight pecs of his lean chest,brought out their curves and rounding shapes. The flick of the fingers on Dans nipples hardened them and made Daniel groan with lust,adding more of Jeffs magic touch into Dans pecs that grew out thicker and fuller,becoming lightly dusted with soft dark curly hairs around his nipples,across the mounds and down into the deepening crevasse of his sternum between the growing muscles that grew from hillocks to heaving mountains. As one of Jeffs hands,now full of solid pec muscle,cupped it and tweaked at his nipples,Jeffs other hand flowed over Dans shoulders that rose into full broad slopes that framed a thicker lightly bullish neck,ever up till they nudged at his ear-lobes. The hand cupping Dans pecs,left to wander across the lean stomach that repsonded by ripping and tensing,and then his abs showing though,tightening,hardening into a solid six pack that rose like a tray of rolls in an oven.. Lines cut through sharply and defined the sensuous v shape towards his groin,like small rivulets eroding away at a bed of rocks that themsleves hardened even more and crunched together as Dan gently twisted and moved in the throes of passion..Two more hard blocks of abs arose,crunching together with the six,undulating like sand0dunes to finally reveal a shockingly cut 8-pack..Job done on those abs just awaiting someones tongue to lap way at the sweat that funneled down the cuts between each block like tiny streams to the present that would soon await at his groin.. With both hands now,Jeff ran them up the side of Dans bigger,heavier,mightier,manlier torso,up to his arm-pits,and making way for his lats to swell,to flare out of near non-existance,into huge wide-spreading slabs that pushed him up higher off the grass and stretching and broadening his back shockingly wide,like the hood of a cobra and arising the thought of 'barn door lats' to amazing reality. And those wide wide lats tapered down in a sexy v shape into an awesomely tight and narrow waistline. Out went the hands, over the shoulders,across delts filling out big round hard delts that could rugby tackle Trajans Column and knock it down to dust..Those magic hands of an angel passed down to the 'guns' that soon would be the hot top ticket to any 'gun show'.!Once lean sizeable but small biceps suddenly jumped alive as veins pulsed thickenly across the surface of the curves like water running through a firehose.. These veins plugged themselves into Dans bicpes and triceps and started to inflate them, to swell them rapidly from grapefruits to cantaloupe melons, swollen and engorged even fuller to cannonballs streaked with vascular pulsating electrodeds of veins. Biceps that soon reached 25 inches,and tri's that hung thick and hard,...to forearms so ripped and burgeoning like he could rip up a sequoia. Jeff pushed his cock into Dans tight hole as he felt up along Dans legs draped up over his shoulders.. Thighs that seemed to flex,and grow then swell with each flex until they were full of muscle and framing Jeffs head and seemed to give added weight in them as they grew tree trunk thick full of muscle.. Calves that bulged and bloated and tighly ripped.. Thick sinewy bulging leg muscles powerful enough Dan would look like he could dead-lift a bull Elephant..! With each thrust of Jeffs thick cock,he could feel Dan ass respond by clenching tighter against the sodomising intrusion, clamping at the cock as it slid in and out as the growth flowed into his glutes,raising them up,filling them out and gradually endowing Dan with a sexy curvaceous bubble butt. The final gift to Dan, was the growth in his genitals. In the throes of lust,Dans cock had arose into its solid,rigid erection of 7 inches,but now,that erection throbbed even harder,and with each throb,engorged even thicker and fuller,and longer.. It was growing like Daniels own Trajans column without the motifs.. The few veins streaking up along the hard shaft like old thick dry jungle roots creeping over ancient Cambodian ruins to cap a big flaring pinkish-purple glans oozing pre-ucm out of the slit like a tree oozing sap. And his balls too had grown low and heavy in their sac.. Full bloated with cum,lolling weightily like soft medicine balls between his upstretched legs.. .................................................. ............................................... In the cabin, if Jacob was not with St.Nick in a nearby room,for once risking a chance away from Daniel laying under the woolen blankets on the couch, he would have seen the wounds gradually healing themselves. He would have seen Daniel sleeping soundly,covered in a light sheen of sweat,not from the heat of the fire..He would have seen Daniels face looking calm and serene.. ...He would have seen Daniel growing under that warm welcoming blanket,obscuring the gentle swelling of his muscles....the invigoration of youth flooding back into his face,his body,his hands..The arousal of his cock as Daniel dreamt his life-changing dream. ....But Jacob would'nt be left out.. Not for long.. After all, Nick,...Santa Claus had promised him his Christmas gift.. ....But thats for the last part, the healing of wounds,the finding of love. ==================================================================

Tales of a Lust Mage #6 'Gingerbread Muscle Men' SUBTAGS: Unaware Growth, Muscle Worship, Alchemy, Holiday (Christmas), Characters (Liam, Andres, N. Claus) Author note: Hey everyone, went on hiatus with my writing. Back to give you guys a little holiday cheer! I want to dedicate this story to farresh, a real good friend who appreciates my stories. Happy Holidays to all of you!!! ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ It was Christmas Eve. Nothing was making noise in the house, yes, not even mice that was almost true, except the kitchen, which was actually very loud. “What are you doing?!” Yelled Andres, rolling around on the plush carpeting next to the fire place and the Christmas tree. He had taken a nap and had just woken up. Liam had been sleeping. “You can’t come into the kitchen!” responded Liam, whom had been in the kitchens for a few hours. Throughout the day he’d been closing the kitchen off to bake pastries and foods for the Christmas parties both young men had to go to. Now that they’d come home and it was beyond late and no more parties to go to, Andres still wondered why Liam was making snacks. Then it hit him. “Hey, you doing some wizard magic stuff in there? Like, with a cauldron and stuff? Don’t you take a break on Christmas?” Andres asked. He needed a protein shake, and he wanted to sneak into the room. “I told you, I’m not a wizard. I’m an alchemist.” Liam responded, poking his head out of the kitchen. “And yes, I’m working on your Christmas gift.” “What, I thought you got me one? Rule is we can open a gift at midnight, and the rest in the morning.” Andres said, standing up and stretching his back. He’d just had shoulder day and his whole upper body was sore. Sitting there, waiting for Liam to finish whatever strange concoction he was making to sell in the shadow-market. Liam tended to be vague about his work, and mostly everything, but Andres picked up on a few key points about the magic-world. “Trust me, THIS gift is the one you’ll want tonight. Besides, it’s only appropriate to bake fresh cookies for Santa.” Liam said, smiling wide. Liam’s thick brown hair had been tied back and he wore a red holiday hat, to keep it from contaminating whatever it was he was making in the kitchen. Andres looked into his phone and smiled, somewhat bored. He flipped through photographs online of the two, grinning at the funniest and best memories. Andres flipped and saw the first picture of them at the gym, back in sophomore year. It was two years of half-done working out and running around the gym awkwardly. Even so, Liam and Andres went into college slowly progressing, and the difference was noticeable. Andres had started out a chubby short dude, and Liam had always been a tall lanky kid. Now Liam was a dense, well-formed tall man. Andres himself was thicker, wider man. He looked over to the Christmas tree and looked at the small present he had for Liam. “Wait, what? Santa? You mean he’s real? Like unicorns and Big Foot?” Andres asked. Before making a snarky remark, he received a text message from his mother. “Si, Mama, estoy bien.” He texted her back. She’d just moved back to Mexico, so he didn’t see her this year. Liam was Andres’ only family since she moved back, and that was only because they’d grown up together. “Next year we should go to Morelia, and see your mum. And Big Foot is actually a creature by a different name, country bumpkins simply gave it that terrible moniker. I read an article on it written by a mage who mentioned it might be the same effect of black-marketed exotic animals that are released into the wild.” Liam said, coming into the room with a box of unguents and other alchemical items. Andres had kept the secret that Liam was an ‘alchemist’ since high school, when Liam accidentally had turned his hands scaly (it was a strange experience). Of course, that was only one of the experiences the two shared. Andres shuddered a little, knowing how creepy Liam’s magic could be. “Oh god, remember when you first tried out for the football team?! How your mum made enchiladas when you got home to forget how sad you were to not be put on the team?!” Liam laughed, placing things by the fireplace. “Yes, Liam. I was small before I hit puberty senior year, and I’m Mexican-American. Thanks for sending that point home. Now what the hell are you doing, and should I be afraid and/or contact your magical friends?” Andres grumbled. He looked over at the red and green mirror decoration Liam brought with him to the cabin. He looked at himself for a bit, instinctively fixing his hair before moving onto his original goal. Needed to really work those shoulders next workout. Andres then returned to creeping behind Liam to see all the commotion. “I’m making an offering.” Liam said. Andres observed the chalice, silver probably, full of milk. A gold-leaf dish displayed many perfectly made cookies, gingerbread. They had been baked at the right time Liam chose for this special ritual. They smelled wonderful, spiced with lots of cinnamon. Candles of pine were lit and a stick of frankincense flickered with its pungent odor. “Wait, to Santa?” Andres asked, his mouth pursing long in suspicion. “Yes, to Santa. It’s almost midnight, so I best hurry.” Liam said, grabbing water and splashing it over the fire. Steam overflowed, outward as Andres jumped back, in a start. The clock reached the witching hour, and Liam smiled. “THE HELL, LIAM!?” Andres yelped, trying to see through the thick steam. The pine candles didn’t go out, and the incense didn’t dampen. The room became dark without artificial light and the fireplace dead. Liam’s chalk slid slowly on the wood flooring, drawing a snowflake-like sigil. “THIS IS NOT A CHRISTMAS I LIKE, LIAM!!! THIS IS A SCARY CHRISTMAS, LIAM!” Andres yelped. He weighed a good 175 lbs. of muscle and bone, but he still felt more uncomfortable about things than his lighter friend. Liam only whispered things in an ancient wording, before moving onto English. His English accent made the poetry of the ritual even more mystic. “Oh, Paladin of Hope and Retribution, Rider on the winds of the dead winter, Elder father still stronger than the young, Hunter of Strength even in the cold, I give you offering, of all the four elements, So you may feel comfortable whilst you stay in our abode.” An icy wind blasted through the fireplace, covering the entire hearth in glassy frost. Andres instinctively lifted up his hand, the terrible cold threatening to knock him down from where he was standing. He coughed, looking around as the scent of mint and cinnamon permeated the room heavily. “Liam?” Andres asked, wafting the fog with his hand. “Andres, meet a good friend of mine,” Liam said, the silhouette of a massive man standing in front of both of them. “Nicolas, this is Andres. Andres, let me introduce Nicolas Claus.” Andres stared at the giant man, standing nine feet tall over the two. The man was wider than the sleigh one would assume he rode. His shoulders hunched over, a massively flared back creeping up in the muscular meat of his trapezoids, wanting to swallow his head. His body was decorated with a sprinkling of white body hair. He wore a large red coat, so long it seemed to be like a duster that dragged as the massive man walked around. Andres was already impressed (and sexually attracted…) with the massive mythical man, but his monstrous arms topped of the masterpiece of a man as they poked out of coat’s sleeveless form. “Pleasure to meet you, boy.” Claus’s mouth said behind his thick beard, his obelisk legs waddling as he walked over to Andres. Andres stared. Santa’s arms looked like they couldn’t even match a normal man’s anatomy. Andres’s mouth held open, simply astounded by what was going on in the room. “I-I-I’m Andres,” Andres stuttered. “I know that.” Claus responded, shaking Andres’s limp hand. “H-How even?! You’re! And you’re here! Liam?!” Andres stuttered, in a panic. Liam and Santa laughed, the young man still thoroughly confused. He was surprised to see that Santa wore an eye-patch. Obviously that wasn’t the ONLY thing that had Andres confounded. “I actually was not very good at summoning back while I learned what I do nowadays. But there was ONE gentleman I could summon. Sadly it was a fluke because I’d been lucky enough to catch him when I was a child.” Liam said. “Liam was a very nice young man but I assumed he was non-magical in nature, so I did not whisk myself away through the house. He caught me in the middle of putting his presents down one year.” Claus said. Andres noticed he had a very subtle accent. Russian, maybe? “S-so what are you here for?” Andres asked, as if he had never heard a Christmas carol. The massive man loomed over him. His eyebrows were so thick they seemed to cover his face in the dimness of the room. He patted Andres’s head and laughed- the big hardy laugh mentioned in all the stories. “I am here for the cookies of Liam’s making. They are one of my favorite. We always celebrate and exchange gifts this way!” laughed Claus. “SO WHY THE CREEPY MAGIC STUFF, LIAM!?” Andres yelled, still very confused. He held his head as the fire went alit in blue flame. It flickered, not melting the ice in the tiny cabin the two young men had rented out. “Well, because we’re making a trade. I give Santa the best cookies most alchemists can make, and he gives me more than the usual goodies he brings good boys and girls.” Liam said, sitting down on the couch. Claus simply folded his legs, actually about as tall as Andres sitting on the couch. “What do you want it be this year, Liam?” Claus asked, sifting through a small red sack. This must have been the one with all the toys, right? “I wrote you the letter, as usual.” Liam said, showing him the cookies. “These aren’t decorated.” Claus said, squinting. You couldn’t tell, he was so furry-faced, but his strong brow furled a bit. “Oh, that’s because you’re supposed to gimme what I wanted!” Liam joked. Andres sat there, still trying to process everything. Santa was in the living room with them. And Liam was making some weird trade with him. Santa chortled again, finally pulling out a large vial of frosting. Liam’s face became bright as he looked at it, tied in a big red ribbon. “Yes! THAT!” Liam said, giddy. The happy giant handed him the vial and looked at the cookies, excited. Liam quickly took off the bow and decorated the cookies with the frosting. He then ran to the kitchen to grab more cookies. He brought out the plate chock-full of other cookies and placed them in front of Andres. “You really like gingerbread, Mr. Santa?” Andres asked. “Please, call me Claus. CLAH-OS.” Santa said, chuckling as he reached out for the tiny glass of milk and a small gingerbread man. “Damn, all these are for you?” Andres asked. “I suppose it makes sense, you’re pretty big for a guy who only plans to eat a few cookies.” “No, no, these are for us two, Santa only eats seven cookies at each stop, if that much. There’s more than enough going around.” Liam said. “For us?” Andres asked. Claus munched and savored the perfect cookies. “Yeah, you’re going to love them, trust me. Just need to make sure to let them cool.” Liam responded, decorating all the trees and gingerbread men. “Do you plan on leaving, then, Santa?” “Yes, my reindeer are… Restless… I’m sure you’ll hear about it if I don’t get them moving again in a bit. Too bad these cookies don’t do what could before to me. But you two enjoy… And don’t eat too many…” Santa said, getting up in a slow, rumbling lift. He grabbed a few more cookies and placed them into a small box, labeled to someone else. He shook Liam’s hand and turned into a frost that went back through the chimney. As quickly as he’d appeared, he disappeared. The room went back to normal, no longer frosted by magic. “For all the weird shit you’ve had happen, this really,” “Puts the frosting on the cake?” Liam interrupted Andres, the cookies’ frosting becoming stiff, ready to eat. He laughed a little, picking one up and handing it to his friend. “So you just want me to eat a cookie?” “No, I want you to do more, but we’ll see how much more.” Liam responded. Andres stared at him, the corners of his mouth pursed back, suspicious. Liam nodded, prompting his friend to take a bite. Andres closed his eyes, nervously putting the cookie in his mouth. He breathed in before quickly biting down. The cookie tasted amazing. It wasn’t very sweet itself, more mild and a bass for the sweetness that was in the frosting. He chewed, almost moaning from how good the cookies were. Liam was a pretty good cook and baker, but this tasted amazing. He found himself without the cookie, having finished it before thoroughly examining its flavor. “Holy shit. The hell is in these?” Andres asked, reaching for another. He hesitated after picking a glossy white snowflake cookie, still a bit cautious. “Just eat, man. They’re good for you, I made them with a ‘protein-gingerbread’ recipe. Santa worries about his protein intake as much as you do.” Liam responded. He too grabbed a cookie and munched. He savored the flavor too, proud of his alchemical handiwork. “Fine, okay.” Andres said, before stuffing his face with the cookie. He was almost embarrassed, but they were so god-damn good. Andres hadn’t even noticed his hand reaching for another as he asked, “Extra protein? Really?” “Yeah, extra protein and the frosting is Santa’s recipe, made from only the finest ingredients, not a lot of fat. So don’t worry about breaking diet. Eat as many as you like.” Liam said, eating his second. He stared at Andres’s chest, excited to see the results of his work. Andres meanwhile ate the cookie and munched, thoroughly enamored with the snack. He didn’t even notice how tight his pants felt as he chewed his fifth cookie. “So, you used all your ‘Christmas goodness’ on frosting? I mean, these cookies are fucking amazing, but couldn’t you ask for dragon scales or something you usually want to put in potions and stuff?” Andres asked. Man, the fireplace was getting really hot, Andres felt a sweat coming on. “You underestimate the power of a good cookie. Santa agreed to fulfill both our Christmas wishes. In fact, all of them.” Liam said, trying not to groan as his own shirt tightened at the hems and collar. His biceps already felt like they were filling out. He tried not to smile too hard, but he was so excited to see Andres swell. “Man… These are…” Andres said, feeling a bit hazy as he picked up his seventh cookie. “These are really fucking delicious, Liam. I can’t even stop eating them!” He joked, not aware of how true the words were. He felt something different in his back. He almost stopped eating, staring at the fire to try and sense what was wrong. Andres brushed off the feeling, Liam knowing well that his back was thickening, pushing outward. “All our Christmas wishes?” Andres asked, finishing the seventh cookie. He winced a bit, noticing the pain in his groin. Fuck, he had just jacked off a few hours ago. He bit his tongue as he looked over at Liam, his balls denser than the time he hadn’t jacked off for two weeks on a dare (he kept his word, and wished he hadn’t that time…). Andres’s eyes went wide, however, looking upon his alchemist friend. Liam smiled, his mouth nibbling on a tree-shaped cookie. Liam looked like he had grown! But that wasn’t possible right? Andres’s brow furled up a bit the moment he looked down at Liam’s thick, rock-hard chest. It peeked out of the sweater, tempting Andres as it always did. Liam looked thicker tonight, too. Liam was a fairly long guy, even with working out as hard as he did. Maybe he was really starting to pack on mass now… “Oh yeah, crud, this feels good. Oh, sorry, what’d you ask, Andy? Yeah, you’ve been a real nice guy this year, so you get all your gifts. Santa knows when you’ve been good.” Liam responded, before flexing his arm behind his head. Andres gasped through his nose as he heard the sweater strain its thick weaving on Liam’s spreading lats. “What the hell?!” Andres said, dropping the cookie he was working on. Eighth or ninth- Andres was losing count. He spoke in an amazed voice, “You’re- you’re growing, Liam! You already look huge now!” “Speak for yourself, Andy. I only ate about three cookies. How many have you eaten now?” Andres stared, still confused. Then he processed what Andy was insinuating. He looked over to the mirror- his eyes shooting wide. Andres was a fairly muscular man already, but now… He had grown to become even more. He stared at the thick neck that held his head, like a pedestal. His traps pushed around his waffle-knit shirt. He could see the texture, once perfect, now stretched in all manner of places as it strained to contain its owner. Andres gulped as he looked at the wide frame he’d swollen; his shoulders were pushing away from him. “F-fucking- what happened!?” Andres asked, his chest beginning to heave. Holy shit, it was big too. Andres’s lips pursed again as he felt his cock twitch; he was becoming aroused. How could he not have noticed this happening?! “What, don’t like it?” Liam asked, grabbing another cookie. He could have used some tea, maybe with milk. “N-no, I do, I just, what is this?” Andres asked, standing up and almost falling as his thick, striated left thigh shoved over his right. He looked at his legs in the small reflection and stared, his heart beating fast and hot. His warm leisure pants stretched over his huge hamstrings, poking the fabric like frames behind the cloth. Andres finally groaned as his cock roared awake, pushing the soft fabric perfectly to its swollen contour. Embarrassed, he tried to place his hands over swelling erection. He felt his face become even reader when the threads of his sleeves popped. They’d give way soon if he didn’t stop growing. Even so, his mind quickly pondered the idea of seeing his clothes tear. His eyes glanced over to the cookie that lay on the couch, still half-eaten. “Go ahead, man. Let’s just eat as many as you want.” Liam said, biting into another cookie. Andres followed the advice and walked over, sitting much closer to Liam this time. Liam had never been this flirtatious, if he’d ever been flirtatious to begin with… But he didn’t seem bothered to sit so close to him, so Andres only smiled and bit into the cookie, nervously. “Ah, I think... I can feel it…” Andres said, swallowing the cookie and moving onto another. “That’s because you’ll feel it the more you grow.” Liam said, huffing as he felt his own erection swelling in his jeans. These pants were far more constricting than Andres’s, so Liam decided to fix the situation. “Hey, I bet I can eat more than you.” Liam said, poking Andres. Andres groaned, feeling the pump of his heart sending growth through him, each beat. Each pump of blood, thumping as it swelled him up like a balloon. “What, no, I’ve always been bigger. You got magic and now want to beat me?” Andres groaned, seeing his stomach stick out a bit under his tightening shirt. He could see the perfect abdomen of muscle begin to crunch under his skin, growing as he bit into the eleventh cookie. “Fine, but you better start eating faster,” Liam said, grabbing two cookies and biting into both of them. Andres chewed and tried swallowing without thinking about enjoying the flavor; Liam chuckled as his sweater began to tear. Andres angrily grabbed two cookies. He felt a little embarrassed as he breathed in and stuffed one in his mouth, but the flavor was so sweet and good he found himself chewing faster just to stuff the next one inside. “Yeah, eat up, Andy, I want to see you blow up.” Liam said, chewing. Andres felt his glutes push him upward, the couch creaking as he thickened even more. He felt the pants constricting his blood, fighting to stay intact. He growled, stuffing his mouth with another baked gingerbread man. Muffled with sweets, he tried to say something. “Fuck, it feels good, man. I’m growing so big!” He growled, fumbling through words as the sweet frosting stuck to the roof of his mouth. He grabbed a handful of cookies and finally gave up on eating with composure, stuffing his mouth chockfull of sweet gingerbread. He groaned, holding onto his stomach as his arms croaked with mass. The sound of cloth tearing aroused him as well, even if the growth felt a little uncomfortable. Liam breathed heavily, trying not to moan as his jeans tore with newly growing muscle. He looked over at the erection that finally popped out of Andres’s pants and smiled, straddling the cock in his right hand as he grabbed another frosted cookie. “Fuck, man, I’m still not as big as you, but…” Liam managed to compliment, before moaning as Andres reached over and gagged him with a gingerbread man. Andres was horny as hell and wanted to see Liam massive to, so he began feeding the both of them. Liam couldn’t keep up with the feeding, but held his mouth at the ready. Andres roared, his shirt finally tearing open as his pectorals swelled outward. His lats spread like wings as he flexed in a perfect double bicep pose- he was sweating in ecstasy. “Mmfuck yeah, man…” Liam muffled, following suit and flexing his own giant biceps in the same pose. Andres heaved, finally finishing the last cookies as the shreds of cloth wrapped around his swollen, rock-hard contour. He looked over at Liam and smiled, still trying to catch his breath. Liam’s smile still looked soft even though he could very well weigh 300 lbs. in muscle alone. “Fuck, Liam. This is- it’s amazing!” “I know. I think you deserve it. And your other Christmas wish, too.” Liam said, hulking his upper body to touch Andres. “What do you mean?” Andres asked. Liam laughed and finally pressed his body against Andres. He opened the small box meant for Christmas morning, revealing a chain Andres had bought him. “You wanted to ask me out, and I think it’s exactly what you’re going to get.” Liam said, slowly reaching with his massive arm around the larger Andres. Andres simply stood there, huge and hot. They kissed. Liam reached and squeezed Andres’s thick arms, pressing as hard as he could (which was a lot, considering the swollen bowling-ball arms he had). As they tore off the last shreds of clothes, Liam knelt down and lifted his arms, squeezing Andres’s throbbing erection in the crevice of his bicep and forearm. “Fuck yeah, Liam, you’re fucking huge!” In a single breath, Liam squeezed as hard as possible, spreading the thick pre that dribbled out of Andres around into the perfect lube. Liam let his tongue slide around Andres’s stomach as he jutted back-and-forth through the muscular crease. Andres couldn’t hold it any longer and grabbed Liam’s head, forcing his cock into his mouth. They moaned in unison, their hands rubbing each other’s swollen, solid bodies. “Liam, oh man, it feels so good! It feels so good to be this strong! I love feeling you even more than I ever thought it would!” Andres moaned. He flexed his arms up and licked his body, tasting the paper-thin skin. Andres moaned, Liam’s hands running up to caress his thick chest. He kept jutting forward to fill Liam’s small mouth, enjoying the sensation of wet tongue and tight throat. The hands moved to pinch his sensitive muscle-man nips then down again to move around the grooves of his newly formed giant abdomen. “Yeah, Andy, come on, bounce that muscle-cock!” Liam ordered, his voice deeper than it had been a few hours ago. Andres was too worked up to notice his own voice was a deep bass as well. Liam pulled himself off and licked Andres’s heavy, swollen nuts. Andres then whined, ready to explode at any moment. Liam stood up and forced his mouth onto Andres, tasting the sweetness left behind by the cookies that originally grew them huge. They began to frot, Liam’s saliva and Andres’s precome thoroughly lubing them as they pressed their thick muscles against each other. Their nips slid against each other as Andres noticed he’d gotten a little taller- enough to match his masculine mate. Andres quickly wrapped his thick arms around Liam and squeezed; so much he would’ve broken a normal man in two. Liam simply flexed his abs and spread his back open. Their massive quads did a wonderful job milking each other and soon the two were roaring, still squeezing and flexing. “I’m gonna blow!” Andres roared his arms going high up in the air as Liam’s hands pushed them up. Liam enjoyed feeling the lats under Andres’s arms. “Yeah, blow with me!” roared back Liam, breathing as close as he could to Andres’s neck (they were so wide and thick, it was hard to get close at this point). Andres gasped in unison with Liam, their cocks sliding upward as they exploded in a shower of thick, white cream. “Aww fuck! SO FUCKING POWERFUL!” Andres bellowed, Liam simply roaring in ecstasy. Ropes and ropes of thick cream splattered all over the place and Andres closed his eyes, holding Liam’s face as come actually landed on his own. He let his lips open so he could taste the juice that had been formed by two grown muscle-gods. It tasted surprisingly sweet, and very familiar. After they awoke Christmas morning (they went on and experienced many other sexual acts on Christmas Eve, capable of orgasm with full virility), they laughed and cooked breakfast. Eating to keep up this new weight would be hard, but Liam said they’d manage. “So is there cum in the cookies?” Andres asked. He didn’t feel so embarrassed to do so. “Well, technically. But it’s been distilled and altered through ‘natural’ alchemy. Only Santa knows how to make it, and he only leaves it for the nicest men who really want to grow. I made a deal to create cookies that would match. The frosting itself grows you, but you quickly shrink back if you don’t work your muscles hard and eat right. The cookies lengthen that time. I’m sure there’s someone having a GREAT Christmas morning right now, eating the cookies I let him have…” Liam said, frosting a new batch of cookies himself. “Lucky guy, then. Well, not so lucky. He doesn’t have you. Oh, are we going to eat those too? I don't think I need to be bigger, but damn, we'd both look amazing if we grew some more.” Andres said, feeling more confident than ever. Liam simply laughed. “No, some of these are to sell; nobody can recreate them so Santa won't be mad at me. If you want to eat some, we can have a little fun I guess. As to the person who got lucky enough to get them today it's only if he’s been REALLY good this year. Santa’s sure to let him have a cookie or two.” The two massive muscle-men kissed and laughed, excited to play with some more growing cookies. As Liam said, Santa DID give some cookies to a lucky guy, but whoever knows who it was? Maybe it'll be you this year, if you've been REALLY good. END TALE

Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad October 21st, 2022 2200 Hours Twenty minutes later, Casey stood in the center of the main Valhalla laboratory, stripped down to a tight shiny black micro posing suit, bulging dangerously in the pouch, and threatening to burst. His muscles glowed. He was huge, enormous, the biggest he had been yet in his young life. Lightly oiled, his youthful brown skin gleamed in the clear white LED light. Dr. Zaftig stood at his side, beaming with calm inner pride. But Casey was nervous. There he was, stripped down to bulging posers that barely covered his manhood, and ready for review. For the first time. And as always, in some place deep inside him, he was embarrassed by his hugely oversized penis. It was just too big. One by one, the 18 bodybuilders filed in silently from their post-White Cap-workout showers in the next wing, looking over the gigantic new recruit with studied casualness. For almost two years they’d grimly listened to Dr. Irving’s deliberately passive-aggressive progress reports. Casey was this, Casey had that, Casey lifted this much, Casey was however-big, Casey was the hope of the future. Etc. They were weary of it. They were angered by it. And some were threatened by it. And perhaps, just a little fearful? No: not fearful. Challenged. And in the case of Hension, Blankenship, Lang, Meyer and Waring, more inspired than anything else. “If he’s that big, I wanna be bigger,” said Hension one afternoon at lunch, to no one in particular. Chad smacked him on the back of his head, and with a short grunt, Hension came a little in his jock. “Sorry. I forgot you liked that.” “I’d like it more if you were a girl.” Hension had long since given up hiding his particular fetish. He took a big mouthful of beef and chewed, ruminating. “You wanna fuck pussy? Abdul can arrange.” From across the table, Abdul grunted and shook his head. “He don’t want pussy.” “Naw. He’s right. I don’t. Hot pussy don’t dig muscles like mine. I just wanna chick who knows how to slap my face right. Good and hard each time. Back and forth. Pow, pow. Leave hand prints. Then I wanna fuck boybutt pussy. And suck some big dick.” Hension looked at Abdul. “Yours, maybe.” Abdul nodded slightly. “Sure, you suck dick good. Any time.” He sipped his coffee. All chuckled a little, but everyone was still thinking about Casey. Over the last few weeks, a few had gone so far as to belly up secretly to the cadet gym two-way windows late at night to watch and study Casey’s lonely training late night training sessions. There the giant teen was, alone night after night in the vast half lit gym, fully clothed, muscles bulging in the yards of a completely enveloping, dripping cotton sweatsuit, insanely going through punishing reps, hurling buckets of sweat, drawing blood, banging out steaming iron reps with teeth-clenching screaming pain, grimly determined, all the while screaming and moaning to himself: Gotta get bigger Gotta get bigger Gotta get bigger….. And on it went. Night after night. The boy was insatiable, indefatigable. As if nothing could ever stop him. And now, the time had finally come. Casey watched them file into the lab. Outfitted in crisp, clean tan khakis and wearing skin tight Army regulation green t-shirts, hair still wet from their post-workout showers, they were an intimidating herd of hardcore beefmeisters. Huge, cut, and vascular to a man, their massive physiques almost aching with heavy, rippling muscle. Casey had been watching them for months, grabbing glimpses of them on campus, running, bicycling, practicing their posing, whenever he could, just as he knew they had been watching him as well in the corridors and working out in the cadet gym. He even knew a few of them by name. Private Lang and Corporal Alvarez, who were always together, Private Gunst, Private Waring, Private Jin. He had never spoken to any of them, out of shyness and awe. And he even recognized Corporal Obatu from Raw Weight Gym. He nodded bashfully to him. Obatu grinned hugely and waved with his huge paw of a hand. “Hello, Casey,” he said in his best Isaac Hayes. “Hi!” Casey said eagerly, but caught the glance from Zaftig. He resumed his blank expression, readjusted, and gazed ahead, eyes high. He squared his shoulders and stood with his pecs pointed high in full 'bodybuilder rest' pose. Of course Casey knew nothing of the cum-blasting shower orgy from which the men had just emerged. And to a man, rather feeling drained, all were primed and ready....for whatever came next. A few had their hopes, but discipline would prevail. Tonight was presentation. Only. Or so they thought. The men looked him over. “Hmmmm,” muttered Schumacher. “Damn he’s got big nipples!” someone whispered. There was the sound of that someone being smacked. In the second row of bodybuilders, an astonishingly handsome young bodybuilder stumbled and grabbed the back of the head. “Hey!” said Hension, indignant. “Shut up,” said Chad. Casey was excited. These men were seriously huge, each and every one far even bigger than Miles Donovan. Though he was almost sure he was prepared for them, even so – man alive! This was a lotta muscle. He gulped with nervousness. Sergeant Moster entered last. Casey stared, suddenly stricken. He’d never seen Moster before. Even in his clean white loose-fit baggies, he was the biggest muscleman Casey had ever seen in his life. It seemed to him he towered over the others, though truth to tell, if he’d been calmer he’d have noticed that at least 3 of the men were close to him in size and muscularity. Close. But not the equal. Not yet. “This is Staff Sergeant Rod Moster,” said Dr. Zaftig. Behind Moster, Dr. Irving scurried into the room, struggling noisily with his omnipresent video camera, lights, and clipboards. “Sergeant Moster will be supervising your training in the future.” “Yes, sir!” Casey had never been prouder. He stood straight and tall. Moster strolled over to Casey. “So this is Cadet Rockland,” he said slowly, appraising him up and down. He seemed to take over from Zaftig, who stepped back, offering no protest. Here, Moster was in charge. Moster circled Casey. He looked impressed, in spite of himself. Finally he had to give in. He turned to Zaftig. A moment passed. “He’s got great bones,” he said quietly. “Yes, great bones,” said Zaftig. “Bones like that come along once every three generations.” “He could go the limit.” “Maybe. Can’t tell yet.” What’s all this about bones? Casey wondered. He gathered it was something good, though, even great, so he stood erect, proud and tall. He fixed his clear blue eyes on the wall straight ahead and stood at attention. To a man, the 18 glanced down at the boy’s pendulously swaying posing suit pouch. The soft, thick bulge lay slack than halfway down against his right quad. Lang licked his lips. Next to him, Blankenship dug his elbow into Lang's abs, nodded, smiled, and winked. He pointed to his own mouth and with his fist simulated taking in a big organ. Moster barked out a few terse questions. “How old are you, Casey?” “18.” “What was that?” “18.” He corrected himself, and barked, “I’m 18, sir!” “That’s much better.” Moster smiled, amused. “And how much do you weigh, cadet?” “310 pounds, sir.” “Hmm. Really. Good. Good for you, son.” Casey readjusted and stood a little taller when he heard the huge black man say "son." Now the 18 were murmuring and looking him over with critical sharpness. Looking for weaknesses, looking for a lack of symmetry, looking for a spot of subcutaneous fat. And no weaknesses were to be found. One short young ginger muscleman whose name he didn’t know was smiling at him sardonically. He was uncommonly good-looking, as were they all, but something about him looked mean. He whispered to a grizzled older bodybuilder next to him, who was bigger and even meaner looking than he was. The older guy scowled. He was perhaps 40, bald, with rough deeply tanned skin, a day old beard, and a chest coating of iron-grey hair. Casey couldn’t help but notice the heavily looming bulges in the crotches of their khakis. As he tried not to stare, the pretty one who had gotten his head smacked reached down the front of his pants for some adjustment. Moster followed his gaze and smiled a little. Zaftig, as always, was clueless. "Tell him to turn around." "Casey, let the men see your back." Casey turned full around, facing the rear of the lab. He readjusted. He couldn't see the men's faces. But he could hear them. A few moaned quietly. "Jesu Christe, check out dem glutes..." Two round, rock hard butt cheek globes, glinting with light filled the room. No one could look elsewhere. Meyer, the deaf mute, stared, his mouth slightly open. He turned and nodded vigorously to Abdul, toweing over him, pulling at his belt. "Yeah, I see them," said Abdul, careful to face Meyer so he could read his lips. "Them. Er. Him. I see him." "For the record," said Zaftig airily, "Dr. Irving and I think Casey's traps and rear delts may be his best bodyparts." "Yeah, they'll do," said Alvarez. His hand went down to the front of his pants absently. His bulge was beginning to get a little bigger. "Now that's a bubble butt," said Obatu. "Sweet, sweet cupcakes. Cupcakes for a man to enjoy...." Casey was coloring deeply, glad the men couldn't see his face. "Lat spread, Casey," said Zaftig. Casey complied. Bat wings spread wide, fists plunged into his sides. His spread his legs slightly for the full effect. "And now, rear double biceps." Cannonballs shot to the ceiling. The glutes hardened slightly, veins popping, striations shining like rivers of platinum. "All right, then, turn back. Sergeant?" "Yes." Moster walked to a lab table and picked up a thick 4-foot iron bar. He tossed it at Casey, who caught it handily with one hand. It weighed about 75 pounds. “See what you can do with that, son.” Casey paused. “Sir?” “I’m not going to say it twice.” Casey nodded. He imagined the sergeant wanted him to bend the bar. He wanted to impress him, so he raised the bar high over his head, and easily bent it into a U shape. He brought the bar down and inspected it a moment, and then walked respectfully over to Sergeant Moster and handed it to him eagerly. Moster took it. “Okay, fair, fair,” he said, nodding and showing the bent bar to the group. Some of the men began to nod and chuckle. Casey returned to his spot and resumed his muscle-ready stance. Moster took the bar in his powerful hands, and bent it back to something like its original shape. He grinned, his big white teeth shining. Then he threw the bar into the air, caught it, and with a single movement powerfully snapped it in two. Casey’s jaw dropped. “Damn,” he said. “Dr. Irving, let’s hear the man’s measurements.” “We haven’t taken his measurements for a month, Sergeant.” Moster glanced down over Zaftig, his deep voice resonating. “You present a new cadet to the team, and you don’t have his recent measurements? Zaftig, you’re getting sloppy.” “I thought perhaps you might want to record the cadet’s measurements for yourself, Sergeant,” Zaftig said slyly. He wasn’t intimidated. Moster looked at Zaftig expressionlessly, then called back over his shoulder. “Private Tiffany, step forward and take the man’s measurements.” The short ginger bodybuilder stepped forward cockily. He looked younger than Casey, though Casey guessed he was really just his age. His wavy red-black hair fell in a forelock over his forehead. He had freckles. His skin was butterscotch tan, his eyes a deep, rich blue. And, like the others, he was hugely muscular, packing well over 220 pounds on his 5’6” frame. Casey noted the perfect round shape of his strong young baseball biceps, rife with rivulets of veins, and the piston-thick forearms. His heavy shoulders bulged with packed muscle. He could have moved pianos with one hand. He was bow-legged, his quads swaying gently outward as he walked. In his fly, his package appeared to be nearly as big as Casey knew his own to be, but on such a short guy it appeared twice as big. He looked as if he had to walk around his dick with each step he took. And he looked vaguely familiar. “This is Private 1st Class Joe Tiffany. I see you’re wondering about his age. Private Tiffany, get the tape measure and the clipboard from Dr. Irving. Tiffany here is 19 years old. He started with The Protocol when he was 15. I’m sure you two will be great buddies.” Casey didn’t know what to make of this. He decided that even with the kid’s big muscles, thick package and all, he didn’t want to be buddies with him. “Okay,” he said. “Hello.” Tiffany stepped forward, extending a hand as if to shake and, as Casey leaned in, walked past him, instead taking the tape measure and clipboard from Dr. Irving. Turning back, he graciously handed just the clipboard to Moster, and strolled confidently over to Casey. He looked up slyly at the baffled, tall young musclemen towering over him. “Hi, Casey,” he introduced himself breezily. “I’m Joe Tiffany. You’re very lookin’ good, man. Like the buzz cut.” Casey gazed down at Tiffany, perplexed, who grinned back at him serenely, displaying two rows of perfect white teeth. He was smart and smooth, and he grinned easily. He made Casey nervous, all the more so when, for a flash of an instant, he detected a wicked twinkle deep in Joe’s eyes. Joe winked at him. Then he wiped his face clean and looked back at Moster, all innocence. “Sir, I need some help, sir.” Moster snorted impatiently. “Corporal Schumacher, get Tiffany something he can stand on.” From the line the older guy Tiffany had been whispering to strode to the desk area and returned with a metal stool. He tossed it in the air to Tiffany, who caught it easily. While never very bright, Casey was all the same possessed of unquestionably fine animal instincts. He knew trouble when he saw it. He glanced up and down the older man Moster had addressed as Schumacher. His muscle density was impressive. His arms were thick, ripped and veiny. Two iron cross tattoos graced each forearm. His skin was calloused and rough, and his hands were huge, with bruised, knotty knuckles. He was now leaning in to Tiffany, so close to him his heavy pecs were almost touching his face. Casey could see the outlines of two heavy brown nipples in his tight Army regulation green t-shirt. Schumacher shot a dirty look up at him, and pushed his pecs into Tiffany’s’ face. “I told you before I want to see you my room. Later.” He spoke in a low tone. The muscleboy stepped back indifferently and spoke with offhand innocence. “Hey, it’s late, dude. I don’t think so tonight.” He pulled out the tape and turned to Casey. Schumacher glanced briefly up at the muscleman towering over them both and sneered a little, but Casey could spot the dash of respect in his eyes. He turned back to Tiffany. “I mean it, punk. In my room. Later.” “Leave me alone, old man. I have work to do with the young dude.” He stepped on the stool without looking again at Schumacher and stood before Casey, holding the tape measure and smiling sweetly. His words stung. Schumacher looked up at Casey and silently mouthed the words H-A-N-D-S O-F-F Casey returned the look dumbly. “Later,” Corporal Schumacher snarled to Tiffany. Moster looked up. “You have a problem, Corporal?” Schumacher turned and strode away. In the corner of the lab, Dr. Irving was recording every moment on his ever-present video cam. Standing on the stool, Joe was now a little taller than Casey. He squatted down just a little, stuck his butt out behind him for support, and brought his eyes even to Casey. He looked him up and down and whispered in his ear. “Let’s see how big you really are, buddy,” he murmured. He brought his hand down and flicked his own crotch gently with his thumb, turning his broad back for cover. Only Casey could see him do it. He looked at him out of the side of his eyes, suddenly nervous about this big little bodybuilder, who clearly had more than his share of cojones, and his dangerous muscle daddy friend, who clearly had issues. “Whenever you’re ready, Private.” “I’m ready, sir.” “Good. Get to it. Right biceps.” Casey snapped his right arm to attention and flexed the biceps full. Tiffany let out a low whistle. “Bring it on home, baby. Nice peaks. Cannonballs, even. Swole. Nice.” “Yeah, yeah,” muttered Casey, flexing both biceps now, trying to be casual. “Get to it, Private,” repeated Moster. “Okay, measuring. Sir! I’m guessing 23 inches, sir!” Casey glanced contemptuously at him with one eyebrow cocked high. “Try that again,” he said levelly. Tiffany charmingly fumbled with the tape measure and double-checked. “I’m sorry, sir,” he reported. “26 inches, sir.” “That’s better.” Casey looked forward and tried to make his face serene. He was already getting pissed. What did this young asshole know? Moster made a note on his clipboard. Behind him, Schumacher was fuming. Casey imagined he could see smoke coming out of his ears. “Left arm.” Casey lowered his right and brought his left forward. Pow - Ka-boom.. .. Tiffany brushed the rocky peak with his fingertips. “No touching the goods,” Casey hissed. “26 inches, sir.” Tiffany was all smiles. “Chest.” “Let’s see, Superman, just how we’re going to do this. Turn to one side?” he inquired sweetly. Casey just looked at Tiffany. “Damn it, cadet, turn! Do as he asks.” Moster was getting impatient. Casey turned. “And expand your chest.” Casey’s giant pecs roiled and blew to their fullest size. Tiffany gently reached around Casey, and by tossing one end of the tape from one hand to the other, he coyly avoiding touching him with all but the tape and his lightly pinching fingers. “68 inches.” “Hmmm. There’s room for growth. Waistline.” Tiffany climbed down from the stool and brought the tape around Casey’s taut abs. Again he managed not to touch him. Even so, Casey felt a slight stirring from his crotch. “32 inches.” “32?? Dammit, Zaftig, what have you been feeding this boy? Chocolate cake? Twinkies?” I’m no boy, thought Casey. And I don’t eat Twinkies. His crotch twitched again. He glanced around the room and saw other crotches twitching as well. 6 or 7 of the men seemed to be sporting half erections, bulging in their khakis. No one said anything. All expressions were deadly serious. It was as if no one noticed, minded or cared that more than a half dozen of these musclemen were now sporting serious wood. “I’m sorry, Sergeant,” said Zaftig. “I haven’t felt it was the time, before tonight, to put Casey under your advanced care and guidance. He wasn’t quite ready, I felt.” “Assuredly. Casey, things are going to be a little different for you after tonight. Quads.” “33 inches, sir.” “Dayumn….” muttered Hension. Then the sound of the back of his head being smacked again. “Ouch!” In back, Karim Abdul watched stonily, not reacting. He, Moster, and Dr. Zaftig were the only men in the room whose flies remained unexpanded. Even Dr. Irving was by now showing a little bulge. “Room for improvement everywhere,” said Moster. He made a note on the clipboard. “Calves?” “28 inches.” “That’s good, anyway. Feet?” “I wear 18 DD shoes,” Casey answered. “Speak when spoken to, Cadet Casey. But thank you. Inseam.” Inseam? “For the uniform.” Oh. Tiffany crouched down and placed the tape just at Casey’s ankle, and brought it up. He paused. “With or without testicles, sir?” he asked. “Without.” Moster was impatient. Tiffany was getting on his nerves, but he wasn’t about to show it. “Sorry, big boy, but you got a couple of low-hangers there. Pardon my fingers?” In a swift move that startled Casey, Tiffany, ignoring Casey’s growing tumescence, gently cupped Casey’s balls in his hand, lifted them and delicately moved them out of the way. “Shucks, dude, they’re pretty heavy,” he smirked. Casey was thoroughly humiliated. He felt like knocking this punk's block off, realizing that if he did he’d probably kill him if he even tried. He said nothing. “42 inches.” “Good. Now Zaftig, leave us alone with Casey. We all want to get to know him better.” Zaftig glanced over at Dr. Irving, who had withdrawn to the far corner of the room to be as far away from Moster as possible. He nodded towards the door. Irving cleared his throat and buttoned his lab coat. Zaftig leaned in and whispered harshly to Moster. “No touching. Leave him be.” Moster nodded. "Sure, of course. We'll be nice." Zaftig and Irving left the lab together. In the corner, the video camera whirred, its red light blinking, unheeded. As soon as they were gone the other 16 men came forward. Slowly they circled Casey, Joe Tiffany, and Sergeant Moster. “That’s all, Private Tiffany. Get back in line.” Moster turned to Casey, paused, and began to speak with great deliberation. “I’m the man in charge here. Going forward, you’ll do what I say. These men have all been through it. It’s your turn now.” The bodybuilders gazed evenly at Casey, who stared back, his head slightly bowed. He had neither seen nor imagined such a landscape of muscle in his life. He was beginning to get intimidated. “The motherfucker’s huge,” murmured Private Lang appreciatively. “Yes, sir.” Casey forced a smile, and he saluted. Moster smiled back, a grim humorless smile. “It would seem that you want to please me. Is that the case, Casey?” “Yes, sir, I do, sir!” “Glad to hear it, son. You have a few more years of hardcore training ahead of you. You have great potential, boy, but you haven’t realized it all yet. Has he, men?” Mutters. We’ll get you down to the gym tomorrow and we’ll all shake it out together. Men, you’re done here tonight. Dismissed. Go to bed. Good night.” Moans of general disappointment. Schumacher and Karim Abdul remained silent. “That’s all men.” A pause. “You too, Tiffany.” “Not just yet,” said Abdul. Moster looked at him, his eyebrow raised. “Corporal?” Abdul turned full to Moster. “Not just yet. I want to see if he can take it.” Moster knew full well what he meant. “Take what, Corporal?” “Get him a singlet,” said Abdul to Lang, who eagerly turned and scampered out of the lab. “You know where to meet us,” he called after him, perhaps unnecessarily. The men could hear Lang’s running footsteps as he hightailed it gleefully down the long hall to the locker room. Moster sighed. “Do we have to go through this? Again?” He remembered that when Alvarez was admitted to the program, Abdul had demanded to meet him in the wrestling ring right off the bat. He looked around. All the men were smiling in anticipation. Casey was baffled. “A singlet? We gonna wrestle?” “Yes, son, we’re going to wrestle,” answered Abdul. “You wrestled before?” Casey remembered his brutal ring training with Ramon Ramon, who never failed to pin him, even though he was only half Casey’s size and weight. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Abdul turned to go, slipping out of his t-shirt. Casey could see he was wearing a singlet underneath, and was surprised he’d missed it before, considering how tight the t-shirts were. Karim was walking away, going for his belt, when he turned back. “You comin’?” Casey gulped a little. “Yes, sir.” The man who stood before him was fearsome indeed, a dark, mature Arab with blackened, hairy, super dry, super vascular, magnificent superheavyweight muscles. The thick black hair of his chest was like a matted carpet, tinged with grey and curling around the heavy, downward pointing nipples. His python-thick cock unfurled heavily in the singlet crotch, heavy, soft, half-visible behind thin, quivering spandex, pulsing, veined, thrust forward between powerful hips. His waist was impossibly narrow, his abs like 8 anvils, his pecs and biceps bulging with muscle and ridic veins. He spread his legs wide. “Hey, look,” breathed Blankenship, staring. Casey looked down, a little panicky, and saw his own massive cock was now tent-poling his posers. Reinforced or no, the 5 square inches of cloth that still managed to cover his big penis head were straining, the fabric ready to tear to shreds. His veiny blond shaft was completely exposed, pointing straight up and out. Curling thick tendrils of his young blond pubic sprouted generously from the juncture of his penis and his vascular, rocky pubis mound. He colored deeply, squatted slightly, tried in vain to readjust himself, his fingers digging deeply into the side straps, trying to control the pouch, which was nowhere near equal to covering Casey's looming erection. Suddenly Casey's penis head ripped through the black cloth, an alien bursting out of a stomach. Casey looked up, utterly distressed. “Don’t worry about it, Casey,” said Moster quietly. The men turned and looked back, and for the first time, got a glimpse of Casey’s humongous penis, half exposed, throbbing behind his expanding posers, which was tearing slightly, ballooning away from his hips. Blond, thick-skinned, massive, covered with luscious veins. “I’d call that a suckable fuck machine of the 1st order,” said Blankenship. He licked his lips a little. Casey looked humiliated. “I asked you a question,” said Abdul. “Are you coming?” And Casey came. “He seems to be,” said Alvarez drily. Just a little precum, appearing at the tip of the piss slit, dribbling down the corona onto his erect shaft. But it was enough. His face turned beet red. He looked up, his eyes hopeful. "Okay?" he finally asked. The men nodded in satisfaction. Abdul ignored it. “Then let’s go, asswipe.” He turned and walked out of the room, headed for the wrestling ring in the next wing. The musclemen followed, each one turning slowly and massively, heading for the door. “Let’s go, Casey,” said Moster wearily. He threw him a towel. “Here, cover up if you’re embarrassed.” “Thank you, sir,” said Casey meekly. “Though with a machine like that you should be proud, not embarrassed. Tiffany!” Moster called out. “Get Dr. Irving back in here and tell him to move that camera down to the wrestling ring.” He smiled grimly. “I have a feeling Abdul may be a little surprised.” __________________________________________ Want to read "The Twenty" from the start? Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland  "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets

Heres a little festive tale i wrote some while back that some of u may have read. Please be kind.. and be patient. On A Cold Winters Night : A Christmas Tale. Parts 1 & 2 PART ONE: Daniel Crown had been reclusive since the sudden tragic death of his beloved husband Jeff.. Ever since the state passed a legislature allowing gay marriage,both men,who had loved each other for close to twenty five years,and had the potential to grow old together,bonded in a lavish civil partnership ceremony. But fate dealt a cruel hand, and Jeff,now 50, was left to grow old alone.The pain was too much to bear for Daniel to move on,it had only been a year since Jeffs death from a sudden heart attack,and the loss was all too fresh..Jeffs death hit Daniel hard.. He shut himself off from much of the world and shied away from the fun social life he had had with Jeff.. Places,people...brought reminders of his beloved back to him. Even though Daniel missed Jeff dearly,the reminders only caused him to sink lower into depression at the loss and emptiness....and to alcohol.He hated life lately... Anything to seek an end to it and be with Jeff,but he was even too cowardly at that as he thought... Now, as winter blew the first snows into the suburbs of the city whereDan and Jeff had lived, Daniel felt this was a sign of change. He did not want to spend a second Christmas alone in this place...the first had been a heartbreakDaniels grandfather had left him a cabin up in the pine hills away from the city where as a child and teenager Dan had spent many a summer with his gramps fishing on the lake and hiking through the woods. Sometimes Daniel had brought Jeff to this romantic retreat and its the one place that Dan felt happy with the memories of both his lover and his grandfather,who had passed shortly after he had 'come out'. 17.And when his father neglected him for his homosexuality, his grandfather,one person who had been brought up in a time that had conservative and deeply homophobic values,surprised Daniel with his liberal compassion and sheer love.. love that he would still feel for his only grandson no matter who or what he was.. That golden time was gone. Daniel was all alone now as he packed up his VW Beetle convert and wrapped himself in his coat before glancing back one last time at the apartment before he got in, sputtering the engine into life and then drawing out of the driveway for the long drive to the cabin, in hopes of reaching it before the weather closed in.. And the weather would be notorious that high in the Pine forests. ======== 17 year Jacob Quill sat in the diner overlooking the misty freeway that would take him to the next small town in search of some kind of solace and freedom from the harsh life he had with his worthless parents. A father that had often slapped him around and finally showing open disgust at his sons homosexuality.. A mother who had done little to openly support Jacob and largely shrank into the background of her husbands dominance. Confused,alone with himself, Jacob had enough and packed and left his sorry existence in hopes of finding someone,..anyone with kindred spirit to share his life and love with.. Now he sat staring outside the diner window,stirring his murky cup of coffee and staring out at the passing traffic trundling along,hindered by the encroaching snows and mist rolling down off the forests. He had managed to hitch a lift with a truck driver this far but now needed to try and get another lift to go further.. ...And he saw one potential lift now.. A rather smart red VW Beetle convertible rolling onto the gas station close by.... PART TWO: On his way up to the cabin, Daniels gas tank beeped that it was near empty.. He cursed lightly under his breath that he not remembered to fill the car up before he left the city. Fortunately for him,he found a Gas station rather soon and pulled in to fill up enough to more than last him the journey there. After paying up in the convenience store,grabbing some mint sweets on the way, Daniel wrapped himself in his thick coat and trudged back through the slushy snow towards his car, as the wind whipped it around his head and howled over the tops of the Douglas fir trees that lined the edge of the freeway. Just as he got to his car,he heard someone trying to gain his attention."Hey mister...mister..!'' Dan looked around to see some guy wrapped tightly in a snug grey duffle coat with its wool lined hood pulled up over the guys head and a black scarf that pretty much effectively hid much of his face from the elements,and carrying a heavy looking green duffelbag.The guy drew level with Daniel and tugged down the scarf to reveal to Dan a young and strikingly handsome face that for a breif moment made something stir inside him. ''Hey Mister,....um,..are you heading towards Evendale at all..?'' said the young man,who by Dans standards looked barely into his twenties.Dan grumbled for a few moments as he fumbled for his keys as the youth next to him hopped lightly from one foot to the other from the cold.''I dunno kid,. I might not be going directly INTO Evendale,but..''Dan had to pass through the outer suburbs of the town to get to his cabin but was'nt too comfortable with the fact of picking up a hitchhiker,who could turn out like the urban legend and be a crazy axe-weiling nutter,but as his eyes met with the kids stunning turquiose blue eyes,he again felt that tiny spark of attraction. ''Aw please mister.. I'll give you a couple of bucks.. I just wanna get that far at least.. Please.. I been waitin' here ages for a ride but everyones been too reluctant..'' pleaded the kid. ''Ok,..but i'll take you as far as i can, thats it.'' replied Daniel as he got into the car.''Aw geez,..thanks mister.. Thought i was gonna freeze to death waitin' here''Daniel started the engine just as the kid got into the passenger seat,placing his bag into the back and throwing down the hood to reveal his surfer blonde short cropped hair.''Names Jacob..'' he said enthusiastically,pulling off a glove to shake Daniels hand.''Daniel'' he replied. Dan set off along the freeway towards the Ridge road that would take him up over the pass towards Evandale and on to his cabin.. ''So what takes you out this way..?'' Dan asked Jacob. ''Oh, just wanna get away from some shit homelife and start afresh. Parents give me hassle and now i got the chance to cut free and live my own life'' Dan said, unbuttoning the coats top buttoms and warming his bare hands on the cars heater.''And you..You live out this way..?'' ''Oh,..i got a cabin up in the hills just past Evandale i'm gonna spend Christmas in..'' said Dan,his eyes on the road. ''Sounds real romantic.. A cabin in the woods all covered in snow,with a roaring fireplace..'' ''I wish it was... I just got over the loss of..'' Dan hesitated.. ''Of someone i loved''. ''Sorry buddy,..i did'nt mean to be ....''Daniel interrupted him with a gentle wave of his hand.. ''Don't worry,..its fine'' He watched out of the corner of his eye as Jacob pulled out a small leaflet of some kind out of his inside coat pocket. Jacob noticed. It was a Fitness and Bodybuilding leaflet advertising a some protein shakes and other muscle building products.. ''You into Bodybuilding..?'' Dan asked Jacob. ''I'd like to be.. I wanna try and get big..massive. My pops kept tellin' me i was a scrawny and weak little..'' he paused, to find a different word..''lowlife, who would'nt amount to much.. So it gave me the motivation to take up weight-training and now i'm starting to see some results'' Daniel could not see much of Jacobs body under his coat but he did have quite a thick neck,..and he had the face of an Abercrombie and Fitch model..'' ''You go to the gym..?'' Jacob replied,eying up the rainbow triangle pendant hanging from the rear view mirror.. Could'nt be a gay symbol could it..? he thought. ''Only now and again. I pretty much stopped going when my partner died'' ''Hope you don't mind me asking.How long..?'' asked Jacob, tentatively. ''Just over a year now..'' 'Fuck it' Dan thought.. 'Nothing to live for..Just come out with it..!' ''My boyfriend died of a heart attack last September''. Daniel swallowed hard and waited for the boys reaction But after all, he had the car, so he could dump the kid somewhere safe if he acted up'' ''You arer gay.?'' said Jacob, physically sitting up straight in the seat with the guys revelation.. ''Yes i am.. Any problems with that and i can just dump you off.!'' ''No...no,sorry mister.. Its just that...'' Jacob squirmed to find the right words. 'So am i.. I just try and keep it private because my pops was an asshole about it.'' Daniel relaxed and even smiled a little, reassuringly.''Then your pops just does'nt understand..I hate bigots like that'' They sat quietly for a while as the snow blew into a blizzard and whipped around the car, visibility decreasing as the road passed throug a scenery of ddeper snow,blowing in drifts across the tarmac and howling around the trees that closed in.. ''So, just how old are you Jacob..?'' Dan said,casting a quick glance to his young passenger. ''17'' ''You are a brave man to f...'' Dan did'nt get to finish his sentance before Jacob shouted out ''Look out''. A heavy tree branch that could no longer take the strain of the snow compacting onto it,snapped off and fell with a crash into the road ahead.. Too little too late for Dan to fully avoid.. His car clipped the branch as it cracked the windscreen and shoved the car to the opposite side of the road. Daniel tried to regain control but the car swerved maniacally across to the right side and then back onto the opposing lane,skidded on some ice and then hit a snowbank,throwing the car into a roll down a slope till it crash landed upside down against a Redwood tree that showered it with a heavy shower of snow from its branches.. TO BE CONTINUED....

Check out the previous installments here: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2206-the-milking-agent-part-1-2/ After finally giving in to his desires and growing into an furry beast like Gabe and Madison, Russell finishes having hot manly sex with his master sharing milk with him and vice versa. Knowing that they can’t grow any further, the thought crosses their minds as to who they could convert next. Gabriel still sits behind them scooping up the cum he shot when he saw Russell become a giant himself. He tries to stand up from where he is sitting and struggles to regain his footing. He ends up falling out the window directly behind him and tumbles to the ground. The other two manage to go over to see if he is alright since he fell about three stories and landed on the concrete. ‘Uhhh…..*looks up at them where the window was and laughs* I’m fine I think *sees the blood that was spilled from his body being absorbed back inside him and grins* OMG boys, we can’t be hurt…..at least when it is just a minor fall like this. *sees the broken concrete around him* FUCK ME! I LOVE IT! *looks back up at them again* You two can enjoy yourselves up there, I am going to go look for some fun myself. *gets up out of the crater and turns to start waddling towards the other side of the city*’ Madison and Russell feel each other up again while trying to brainstorm who else they know that is close to them that they want to convert. Since he is part of the financial division of the company, Russell remembers that one of his young coworkers always stared at him in a very flirty way. Madison thinks he knows who that is since he has sat in on some of their meetings since he is Gabriel’s assistant. Since it is afterhours, they have to come up with a plan to get this guy to come in. Russell thinks that he can tell him that they are having an emergency meeting and needs his help to come up with a solution especially since the building is in such disarray. They both laugh in their deep baritones and give several nice tugs on each other’s nipples spraying milk all over themselves. Trying not to get into another sex session, Russell says he will go find a phone in another part of the building to get the ball rolling. Madison stands there trying to think of someone he knows that could be a part of this plan too. The only other guy he can think of is his friend from the cafeteria, Galen. He knows that sometimes he stays late to cleanup and generally can’t hear things on the bottom floor. Wasting no more time, he starts waddling his way through the third floor and down a flight of stairs nearby. When he gets to the bottom floor, he reaches for the door to go out into the main lobby and accidentally rips it off the hinges like it is made of paper. The sheer power in his hands amazes him as he tosses the door beside him. When he walks through the doorway, he looks around to see if anyone is still in the building. The cafeteria is located about 100 feet down the hall which he quickly starts rushing towards. When he finally gets there, he can hear someone in behind a nearby wall located just beside where he is standing. He decides to just press on it which makes the drywall shift and start collapsing. The voice behind the wall yells in fright. ‘HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE HELL!? *moves back away from the crumbling wall* What is going on with this….. *sees the giant figure in front of the wall* OH GAWD….. *starts running the other way*’ Madison jumps through the hole in the wall and shakes the floor making everything in the kitchen area bounce around and fall over. The man ends up getting knocked down by falling dishes and pots. He continues to yell in fright fearing for his life as this huge giant continues to walk towards him. When Madison finally stands above the rubble, he pushes the mountain of debris off of his scared buddy and picks him up. The man is actually fairly large, not muscled but rather husky. He is wearing a dirty tank top and a pair of shorts that do little to cover up most of his crotch. He tries to punch Madison in the face but ends up doing very little damage to him and may have hurt himself. He grabs his hand and groans feeling the pain go up his arm. The huge giant restrains him and looks him straight in the eyes. The man seems really distracted now as he tries to figure out who this might be. ‘Wait? You look vaguely familiar. *stares at Madison’s mountainous pecs and leaky nipples* You…..are leaking…..but you are not…..*seems really distraught*…..I don’t understand…..’ Madison smiles and forces the man’s face into his huge pecs. The man feels the muscles pressing against his face and tries to resist. He can’t breathe in fact which makes the giant pull him away from them. The man gasps several times before staring up at Madison’s face again. The giant looks down at him and gives him an ultimatum. ‘Galen…..*talks in a softer tone*…..I’m Madison remember? Well, I don’t look the same exactly but I’m still your pal Madison. *smiles before placing Galen in front of his engorged nipples* I need you to do something for me buddy. Will you suck all of the milk out of my pecs for me please? I would try to myself, but I can’t seem to be able to reach them. *laughs*’ Galen’s eyes widen as Madison bounces both pecs spilling milk down his bloated gut. The small man writhes trying to get free but the giant just increases his grip which makes the little man grimace. Once again, Madison places the man’s face in front of his huge engorged hairy pecs. This time the man seems a little more receptive to his orders and opens his mouth to lick his swollen left nipple. He gets a few drops of milk on his tongue and moans tasting its sweet mixture. It isn’t long before he locks his lips on the nipple and guzzles down everything it makes. Madison feels the changes immediately taking hold in Galen as the man’s body quickly starts to grow. His legs and quads expand rapidly making the giant have to loosen his grip on him. He can hear Galen grunting as he moves over to Madison’s other swollen nipple and goes crazy draining it. The sensation makes the big man spray multiple jets of cum all over the kitchen. Galen’s back muscles are doubling up on themselves as his tank is unable to compete with the incredible mass now forming on his frame. It completely disintegrates in seconds as his arms, pecs, and gut grow at the same time. He grips the giant with his growing hands as he continues expanding wider feeling his spine crack and lengthen feeling himself getting taller to accommodate the additional size. ‘MORE! *shorts rip off* MORE! *ass flares out and cock thickens* MMMMMM…..*drains Madison’s right nipple* AHHHH! *looks down at his swollen roidgut and punches it* Oh my gawd, my pecs are so sensitive. *feels them and realizes that they are also filling up with milk* OHHH SHIT…..I am going to cum so much……*blasts his volcano all over Madison which draws several moans from the big guy* MMMMM……*moves down to swallow his master’s cock and works it over*’ Madison humps his mouth for several minutes before he shoots his huge load down Galen’s throat. The now equally large hairy beast pulls his master’s cock out of his mouth and stands up to look at him face to face. They grin at each other and start rubbing their roidguts together before they decide to start wrestling around destroying everything in the kitchen area. Eventually they end up going through another wall and landing on the ground out into the main lobby. The two sweaty monsters finally take a breather before Madison moves down to delicately suck on Galen’s mammoth blond haired pecs. The sensation makes the newly christened giant roar in delight as his cock erupts each time Madison slurps the milk out of his pecs. It gets to the point where the master giant alternates between sucking Galen’s cock and sucking on his huge nipples. ‘Ohh buddy, you taste so much better than Russell. I could do this for hours and hours if I could. *realizes that he is making Galen lose consciousness and stops* Whoops, I will let up on you pal.’ Galen sits up once Madison quits servicing him. The blond haired giant looks him in the eyes and gives him a deep kiss on the lips which is returned by the darker haired behemoth. He realizes that Galen does have feelings for him as he leans against him. They pet each other’s bodies for a few moments before they start talking again. ‘So…..when did this happen to you Madison? I am guessing that this happened not too long ago since I just saw you a couple of days ago. Have you destroyed the rest of the building yet? *laughs in his new baritone*’ ‘Well….*rolls his eyes* not the whole building, but the third floor is pretty ransacked. I am not the only one in this condition in case you were wondering.’ Galen grins before he scoots over to a nearby wall to pick himself up. He then walks back over to Madison to help him up. They start walking down the main lobby together still talking. ‘I am anxious to know who else you have changed Madison. I’m not sure I have ever met this Russell you are talking about.’ ‘Ahh, he is this incredibly sexy redhead. Changing him was fun, but not quite as fun as it was changing you.’ Galen reaches over to plant another kiss on Madison’s lips before pounding on the big guy’s pecs making milk cascade down his chest again. The dark haired giant does the same to Galen which starts another sequence of spraying each other with milk. Galen’s sensitivity in his pecs ultimately is also leading to faster production of sperm as well as Madison is finding out. He gives the blond giant a few sucks on his huge tool and gulps down the thick juices he produces. Once he is done drinking his white flood, he gets back up on his feet to answer another question Galen asks him. ‘So the growth stops once I suck the milk out the first time Madison?’ ‘It appears that is true pal. I hope we can figure out a way around this though since we will probably run out of converts eventually.’ The two behemoths begin searching for Russell who is looking for someone himself to convert.

/

Below is a new story line. I am a whore for feedback. Please let me know if it pushes any buttons. -ragman Warning: This fantasy story is for adults only. You must be 21 years old to continue. Adult content may include nudity, mature relationships, violence, and extreme muscles and strength. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Machu Man – Part 1 By ragman I was struggling for breath in the altitude, as we approached Machu Picchu. The scenery was breathtaking, as well as the thin air. I was never an athlete, just average. I seemed to excel in academics, and had found mathematics a rewarding endeavor. I had just graduated and was hired to teach at our state university in the fall. So I thought I would take advantage of a student summer tour while I still had a student ID. The mystery of Machu Picchu, how a town could have been built on top of a mountain, out of huge stone boulders, was fascinating to me. The low cost of the student tour to this world landmark, made it something I couldn’t pass up. I meandered around the city on top of a mountain. The size of the stone slabs that made up much of the structure was enormous. How blocks of granite the size of cars were fashioned and hoisted in place was incredible. But more amazing was how tightly the stone slabs fit, how exactly, without mortar to seal them. How could primitive man manage to transport hundreds of tons of solid stone to the top of a mountain and then, with no metal tools or machines, build a city where every stone is precisely placed with perfectly tight seams requiring no mortar? My scientific brain was trying to imagine how such a feat could be accomplished. It seemed truly impossible. My head was filled with incredulousness as I was fumbling with my camera, trying to capture the impossible beauty of our three dimensional world on a two dimensional digital image, when I tripped and dropped my camera. It fell off the path and down the mountainside, but came to rest on a shelf of rock about six feet below the path. I was pissed at my clumsiness, and overreacted to the mishap. Without concern I shimmied over the path down to the ledge to retrieve my camera. It wasn’t until I was standing on the ledge that it occurred to me that I was in a dangerous spot, trusting on the ledge alone. I reached down cautiously to get my camera, putting it in my sweatshirt pouch. As I bent back up, I noticed a glimmer coming from a fairly deep crack in the rock. It looked like a metal sheen. I carefully dug around the object, until it came free. It was a small earthen jar, sealed with a gold top, the reason for the gleam. I put the jar in my sweatshirt pouch. By that time, my disappearance over the edge of the path had caused the guide and others to come to my aid. They helped me climb back up on the path, though I could have managed by myself. I assured them I was fine and showed them the camera I retrieved. I decided not to mention the jar. I don’t know why, I guess I didn’t want to share it yet. We continued the tour of the city. Beautiful stone and rock construction, with running water viaducts, and mysterious obelisks. The scale of the dwelling was awesome, suspended on top of the world. My senses were overloaded with the majesty and the architectural undertaking it took to build it. I was enthralled with beautiful images the entire bus ride back to our lodging, having forgotten about the small jar in my sweatshirt, now in my pack. We barely had time to grab a bite to eat and pack our bags before heading back to the airport for the journey home. ****************** I was moving into my new place just off campus, looking forward to starting my mathematics teaching career. I didn’t have that much to move in, being a recent student with not a lot of furniture or belongings. So, I had rented a furnished townhouse, and was unpacking the last of my stuff. Ah, the knapsack from the Machu Picchu trip, I had quickly packed it when leaving South America, and hadn’t needed the stuff in it, my sweatshirt included. I unstuffed the fleece and felt something in the pouch. The little jar, of course, I had forgotten. I took it out of the pouch and examined it more closely. There were some markings on it. On the face of the small jar was etched a figure, but it was out of proportion somehow, almost fat, but different. And the gold top had a character inscribed, also. It looked like an “8”. My curiosity soon led me to wonder about the contents. I tried to uncork the top, but I couldn’t get the gold stop to budge. I finally decided to try my mom’s remedy and put the top under hot water for a few seconds. I tried again, and the top shifted slightly. I mustered all the strength in my thumbs and jockeyed the stopper out of the neck of the jar. The final millimeter gave with a “Pooh”. A dense cloud of blue gas escaped from the bottle and swirled around in front of me, condensing into a human form. The gases solidified and became solid. Before me stood a young man. He was about six feet tall, my height, with golden hair and blue eyes. His face was young, I’d say, seventeen or eighteen, with tanned skin. He wore only a piece of what looked like leather, in a loin cloth fashion, that covered his man-ness. He was svelte and muscular, like a fitness model, with wonderful proportions. “You have summoned me to serve you, Master,” he spoke with soft resonance. “How can I please you?” “Who are you? Why are you here?” I babbled. “I am yours. You hold the vessel of my control. I am here to obey your every command. You decide my purpose and identity. I will become your perfect companion.” I was stunned to say the least. This couldn’t really be happening, could it? A genie from a bottle, no less. What should I do next? “Please tell me how to begin. I am at a loss for what to say,” I requested. “I am sorry I have caused you distress. I will try to ease your discomfort.” The teenage Apollo approached me and embraced me gently. His touch was warm and enveloping. He exuded confidence and trustworthiness. My defenses were slowly lowering as he moved his strong hands over my body in a caress. “Does that make you less tense, Master?” he asked. “I have many ways to give you pleasure, that you will learn to command. My body can do things no one else could dream of, and you get to do the dreaming.” “I don’t understand,” I replied. “You will just do whatever I ask you to do?” “Yes, Master.” “With what kind of limits?” I added. “Do I just get three wishes?” I asked like a fool. “I have no limits, Master. You can command me to do anything.” “What are we talking about here?” I pondered. “What do you mean you can do anything” “I have the power of the galaxy in my body, the strength of a millions suns. I can do any feat of strength you can imagine, I have inconceivable control of every muscle of my body.” “This is too much to believe,” I struggled. “I need to take a minute.” Perhaps this is a good time to mention that I have always been turned on by muscles, on men or women, but especially men. I have found the muscled male body to be a work of magnificent sculpture, of muscle art. I have curbed or mitigated my private fantasies, relying on internet sites for titillation and amusement, always secretly wanting a muscle mate, to dote on and worship, who would protect me and make my wishes come true. What was standing before me fulfilled a fantasy of my lifetime. “I noticed you were beginning to rub me back, when we embraced. Did you like the feel of my body?” “You are beautifully handsome, and I have a weakness for big, strong muscles,” I was surprised to hear myself admit that to a genie. “You are captivating, and intriguing.” “So if my muscles were bigger, that would please you more?” “Probably,” I nodded. “I haven’t had the opportunity to find out.” “How about this, Master?” The genie tensed his muscles. He expanded outward with the flex, bulging and rippling with growing muscles until he looked like a teenage bodybuilder. “Whoa, that’s amazing how you can flex your muscles that big. It makes me want to feel how hard you are now, how strong you have flexed.” The muscled teen stepped to me and offered his flexed biceps for me to explore. He grabbed my hand gently and placed it on top of the peaked split of his 20 inch arm. It was hard, and warm and alive. He flexed a bit harder and forced my fingers apart with his bulging muscle. “This arm is all yours, Master. You can command it to grow and strengthen with the power of thunderheads, or order it to flex to the ceiling or higher.” I was awestruck with the possibilities of his power. With his confidence and demeanor, muscles and charisma, he was the perfect fulfillment of my wildest fantasies. “Does my demonstration please you, Master?” he asked hoping for approval. “I’ve never been more pleased,” I managed to mutter. “But, I think it’s time for you to call me Mike, instead of Master. That’s my name.” “Very well, Mike. You are unlike the others. You are kind. Thank you for allowing me to please you with my strength. Nothing gives ME more pleasure than using my immense strength and powers to benefit those with good hearts. My vessel has not always been in possession by those who have benevolent thoughts. Regardless, I must obey the commands of my owner, it is my purpose.” “When were you last released from your vessel?” I asked, trying to assimilate what I was hearing. “My last task was building a city of stone on top of a mountain.” “Machu Picchu?” I asked incredulously. “You built it single handedly?” “No, Mike. I built it with both hands, and the rest of my powerful body.” Obviously, he was going to answer me literally. “So, you’ve been in the jar for all this time?” “You are my first Master since Machu Picchu, as you call it.” “Whoa, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” I marveled. “It’s been a few years since you’ve been out of your vessel.” “It pleases me that you will be my Master, Mike. I will learn all there is to know so that I can serve you,” he said. “Uh,…. OK.” I responded with fascination. “Can we talk a little more about how this works? I’m not sure I get what’s going on.” “Of course, Mike. Whatever you wish.” he said obediently. “That’s what I mean. Do you just follow me around and do stuff for me?” I was confused. “I’ve got a lot of questions.” “I am here to do whatever you ask of me, Mike. In the past I have been the servant of Kings, and tyrants, alike. I can build you a monument, defeat your enemies, or serve your every physical desire.” “So you have no desires of your own?” I asked. “Only to please you, Mike,” he said humbly. This was going in circles, so I decided to change the subject to everyday matters. “So, where do you sleep? Do you eat?” Stuff like that. He explained his ability to adapt and fit in with humanity. He said he didn’t require food or water or sleep, but, he could consume anything I wanted him to, literally. He told me some of his masters kept him in his vessel while they slept, for fear he would escape, which he could not, or to keep him secret. I asked him if he minded being in the vessel. “It is what my masters’ wished,” he responded, not understanding the meaning of the question. I still couldn’t believe what was happening. I just stared at the loincloth-clad Adonis before me. He started to look around. “How long have I been in my vessel? Where are we Master Mike?” he inquired. “Is this your dwelling?” “Wow, I didn’t think about how many questions you would have, I was so lost in my own wonderment,” I apologized. “Where shall we start?” “Start wherever you wish to begin,” he obediently replied. I rolled my eyes at the repetition of his acquiescence. “Can we begin with you not being so subservient? I’d like you to be a friend, not a slave.” He responded with confusion, “I’ve never had friend, nor do I know how to be one. Would you please teach me, Mast…eh…, Mike, my f-r-i-e-n-d?” he asked sheepishly. “I’d love to, Friend!” I added eagerly. I moved to him and put my arm around his sculpted shoulder and gently squeezed. He was warm and hard and responded with his arm on my shoulder. It was heavier than I expected. “Well, to answer your first question, it’s the year 2014,” I began. “And you are a long way from Machu Picchu.” ******************* I had a few days before I started work, so we were able to spend some time together, getting to know each other, or rather me learning about his abilities, and Machu Man, learning about what pleased me. The experience was mind blowing. I asked for him to demonstrate his true strength. He told me that was not possible, because he had found no limits. I caught my breath, and tried to comprehend what that meant. He picked up an empty wine bottle and placed it between his pectorals. He flexed his chest and his cleavage grew to almost surround the bottle. Then he flexed harder and I heard glass shatter, but he contained the fragments within his cleavage. Next he began flexing each pec and grinding up the glass between them. I could see the pieces get smaller and smaller until the mixture was like fine glass cement. Then Machu Man flexed harder and his pecs began to heat up. He poured on the power and soon the glass dust was a molten blob of glass that continued to get hotter with the enormous pressure and heat he was generating with his chest muscles. The blob began to boil between his pecs, and evaporate in a cloud of silica steam that was thousands of degrees hot. What happened next was my first observation of his true nature. He inhaled the superhot glass steam through his nostrils, like he was smelling roses. After a few seconds the entire glass blob was reduced to steam, by the heat of his muscle pressure, and inhaled completely. I was speechless. “That is one way I fashioned the huge stone blocks of Machu Picchu so they would fit perfectly together,” he commented. I’d soften the side of a stone block by hugging it real hot. Then when I placed it, the stone would flow like lava and seal with the stone next to it.” I heard what he was saying, but still couldn’t fathom the reality. “I’d pile three or four huge boulders on top of each other and carry them up the mountain balanced on one hand, like a waiter holding a tray.” Machu Man held his right hand up with the palm facing up to demonstrate the position. The movement of his arm caused his biceps and deltoids to flex into a perfect display of hard, ripped muscles, with the biceps full and long in their 22-inch flex. He then pumped his arm up and down as if he were lifting a mountain of boulders. His triceps expanded into a boulder of muscle itself as he mimicked a one-arm press. He seemed to notice my fixation with his flexing, enjoying my reaction. “Then I’d start piling them up, building a wall or arch,” he continued to mime, as he would spread his arms wide to pretend lifting a huge block of stone. His pantomime was extraordinary. His chest and arms exploded with striated muscle fibers as he appeared to lift a huge weight before him. Then things got pretty freaky. “Then I would expand my chest really big like this,” he moaned. “Unnnmmpphh.” His perfect pectorals expanded hugely, filling in the space between his outstretched hands, which must have been 6-feet apart. “Then I would flex my muscle fibers really hot, like I did with the wine bottle.” Suddenly the room temperature spiked from the heat of his pectorals as he demonstrated his power. “Oops, too hot for indoors. But, you get the idea,” he continued his skit. “So I’d soften the entire side of a huge block of stone with my enormous chest, then place it where I wanted, and gently press the stone. The softened face would mold perfectly to fit tightly.” As Machu Man concluded his description of boulder masonry, he seemed to misinterpret my enthrallment. “Have I displeased you Master Mike?” he asked worriedly. “I thought you might enjoy my tale. You haven’t said much.” After regaining my composure some, I tried to respond. “Y... you made the city by melting the stone faces with your pecs?” I finally muttered. “Yes, Mike. That is one of the methods I used to make the stones fit perfectly. It only took a fraction of my strength and power to build Machu Picchu. Stone is easily broken and melted with enough pressure. And these muscles can exert more than enough pressure.” Machu Man raised his arms and brought them down into a double biceps pose. This time, with his hands in the classic position, his biceps erupted into twin Matterhorns of peaked spendor, easily eclipsing 27-inches. My junk could take no more. My erection was painfully confined by my pants, but clearly visible. He smiled and pumped another 2 inches out of his peaked muscle mass, then waited for my reaction. I moaned and pumped ejaculate out of my tented member, staining my pants. “I was worried that my muscle story had disturbed you. I am grateful that you seem to be pleased,” Machu Man spoke softly. “I want very much to please you.” ‘I have never heard of a mason that melted his stone for mortar,” I marveled. “I don’t think anyone has called me a mason before,” he replied. “You know, ‘Mason’ would be a good name for you. It’s kinda clever, if I do say so myself, and it sounds strong, with some distinction.” I was pleased with my suggestion. “What do you think about me calling you Mason?” Machu Man started to respond as usual, “If that is wha…… I mean,… I like …Mason. I can identify with the name.” “Awesome,” I agreed. “Awesome?” Mason questioned. “It’s a current slang expression than means ‘better than ever, great, or super good’,” I tried to explain. “I think being your friend will be awesome, Mike,” he smiled. I melted. After I composed myself I began again. “There is so much to teach someone who has been away for 900 years. So much history, so many new inventions, such a different way of life than you know of. We have machines and tools, electricity and nuclear power…. We’ve even traveled to the moon.” Mason gazed around the room as I spoke and took in everything. He didn’t seem to be overwhelmed by it all, indeed, he seemed to soak it all in. “You need to teach me how to operate all these devices,” he remarked as he scoped the TV, computer, refrigerator, oven, and all the furniture. “I will, Mason. You’ll be amazed with all things in this modern world. But, first, I think we need to deal with your appearance.” “Oh?” he wondered. “Do I need to add more muscle to please you, like this?” He stood more erect and flexed a bit all over, causing him to expand his musculature to a pro bodybuilder size. It was breathtakingly amazing how he could grow at will like that. After I stopped gasping, I said, “My god! That’s not what I meant, but you are magnificent. I was talking about your loin cloth. I don’t think you’ll fit in wearing only a piece of hide. We need to put modern clothes on you. Or at least some shorts that make you more presentable.” I was thinking how I didn’t want to cover up his upper body. “OK, Mike. I’ll take this off” Before I knew what was happening, Mason reached for his waist strap, which was made of heavy rawhide, and easily tore it apart, causing his loin cloth to drop to the ground. There in my townhouse stood naked perfection. I stood, waveringly, as I took in his splendor. He was perfect. His proportions were perfect. His muscle definition was perfect. His skin seemed more perfect than I noticed before. His eyes were bluer than I remembered and his golden hair was perfectly silken. And his manhood was…perfect. In its relaxed state his cock hung with throbbing veins snaking around its perfect 8-inch length. His two testes filled his perfectly sized sac and exuded power. Mason stood there with no embarrassment, naïvely actually, and waited for his next instruction. “What should I wear, Mike?” broke the silence. “Uh, er…. Why don’t you try a pair of my undershorts?” I managed to answer. “Here, try these on. They are stretchy and fit snuggly. Then put on these cargo shorts. The legs are bigger so they should fit you better.” “Thanks, Mike. It’s cool that we both are about the same size, when I’m not flexing much.” ‘Not flexing much’? He seemed pretty big to me. How big could he flex? ***************** Finally, I had to report to work. I told Mason he should watch TV, or surf the net, to learn about what was happening in this era. He sat down and turned on the tube. When I got home he was in the same position, with the TV on a news channel and the computer screen flashing pages at an astounding rate. “Have you been watching that all day?” I asked. “That was your command, Master Mike. Though I must say, much of this news is repetitive and opinionated.” That sounded very astute. “I learned how to manipulate the computer so it would show several pages at one time. And scroll faster than it was set up to. So I was able to read all of Wikipedia and all the books in the Library of Congress while you were at work. Mankind has made many advances, but still seems to allow suffering at the hands of religious tyrants or greedy tycoons.” I heard what he said, noticed the computer flashing multiple pages a second, and tried to comprehend his enormous abilities. “There seems to be a variety of disasters around the globe, earthquakes, floods, wars, killings. Do you wish me to stop them?” he asked, matter-of-factly. “You have the strength and power to stop earthquakes?” I was amazed at the concept. “If you command me, Mike.” “I don’t want the responsibility to decide who gets saved, and who doesn’t. And what unintended consequences might result from messing with Mother Nature. Frankly, I was enjoying your company. This is a new town, and a new job for me. It’s kind of stressful dealing with it all.” Not to mention pondering the presence of a god, which I didn’t. “I was wishing you would be my friend, someone I can count on, for support and comfort.” “Of course, Mike. Let me support and comfort you now.” Mason picked me up effortlessly in his muscled arms and held me close. His warm, throbbing body was electrifying. I felt a surge of energy and well-being that made me shiver. “What would friends do after a day at work?” Mason asked. His question caught me off guard. “I guess, they would head to a game, or go get a drink.” “Game? That sounds interesting. What games do you play?” “Oh, I like to play most sports, I just never had the drive to work that hard. I think there’s a baseball game tonight, at the college. Do you want to go?” “If that is your desire, Master Mike.” I flinched a bit. ************************* We headed to our seats in the bleachers. I bought us each a couple of hot dogs and a beer, to teach Mason the proper way to watch sports. He watched me bite into my dog and enjoy the fatty delicacy. I watched him take the entire hot dog, put it in his mouth, and suck it down his throat in one piece. “You might want to chew your food before you swallow it whole, when you’re in public,” I suggested. “Of course, Mike.” He bit off a hunk of his other dog, chewed once and swallowed. “Please don’t waste your money on food for me. I don’t require it.” “OK,” I agreed. “Let me tell you about the rules of baseball.” I hadn’t tried to tell someone about baseball, that hadn’t seen a game before. It’s not that easy to explain. It is truly a unique game. There are no time limits, a team can overcome a seemingly insurmountable lead in the last inning and win. Plays that count are sometimes out of bounds, like foul flies. And other oddities of the game. Mason seemed to learn very quickly. In the bottom of the ninth, our team needed three runs to wins. We had two runners on, with the winning run at the plate, and two outs. The batter swung and popped it up in the infield. “Damn, I wish he coulda hit a home run, out here in the bleachers,” I unknowingly spoke. “As you wish, Mike.” Mason pursed his lips and sucked in like a tornado. The ball reached the top of its arc and was sucked towards the bleachers, caught in the vacuum of Mason’s breath. Once the trajectory was altered and the ball was headed our way, he stopped inhaling and I watched the ball fall from the sky into his outstretched hand. The home crowd went wild with the homerun, the other team was baffled by an easy out turning into a loss. “Shit, did you do that?” I said staring at the ball in Mason’s hand. “It is what you wished,” he said, proudly handing me the ball. I needed to be careful what I casually ‘wished’ for. “Do you want to go to the bar, like friends?” he asked. “Yeah, that would be great,” I answered, holding the ball in my hand, still wondering how he did that. “Except, you don’t have any ID. You can’t get in without ID,” I stated. “I have been smuggled into places in the past, Mike,” Mason said. “I can return to my vessel and you can carry me in your pocket. Once inside, you can release me where it’s safe.” Huh, that sounded possible. We headed back to my place to get his vessel. ************************** I was curious. “Tell me more about how you and this jar work.” “Of course, Mike. My vessel holds the essence of my power. He, who possesses it, possesses me.” “But, it looks quite fragile, like it could break. What happens to you if your vessel is damaged?” I asked. Mason was lost in thought. “I have not been asked that question before. If my vessel were destroyed, I would have no Master to serve. I would have no purpose.” “While I’m your ‘master’, do you automatically protect and save me, or do I have to wish for every rescue, specifically?” I was somewhat embarrassed that my analytical, mathematical mind was asking such lame questions. “When I take human form out of the vessel, it is my purpose to see no harm comes to you, my Master, as I fulfill your desires,” Mason stated. “Do you still wish to go to the bar, like friends?” His frank honesty, his unbelievable power, combined with his manly tenderness, all wrapped up in a six foot tall gorgeously muscled body, was making me forget about the rest of the world. “Or should I just entertain and please you here?” he asked willingly bouncing his pecs. “My desires to please you are greater than for any other master. I feel stronger, more alive, more powerful with you as my Master, Mike. Thank you for caring about me. No one has ever cared about me before.” “Hey, that’s what friends do. They care for and look out for each other,” I said, putting my arm around his muscled shoulders. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have found you as a friend. Who else has a friend that can suck a pop-up into the bleachers for a winning home run?” “Did you like that,” he grinned. “I thought you might. I know you didn’t REALLY wish for it, but it IS what you said.” “Why, you son-of-a-gun,” I joshed, punching him too hard in the gut, a mistake that gave me a sore hand. “You even have a sense of humor. I love it.” Mason looked at me softly with a smile. “OK, here’s my real wish, all the time, while we’re friends. I wish you would show your sense of humor often, and I wish you would express your views freely. I don’t want a sycophant for a friend.” “OK, I’ll just be your lover.” I was silenced. “Ha-ha. My second joke,” his laugh was forced. My face was flushed. He saw my reaction. “I’m sorry, I see I may have offended you, my friend,” he spoke with sincerity. “My past owners have often ordered me to perform for them, as well as win wars. I am inexperienced with speaking freely, with humor. I was trying to amuse you. Please forgive me.” He lowered his head in shame. “Hey, come here. I love you, bro. Now that the shock is over, that WAS pretty funny.” I gave Mason a hug. He seemed to be relieved. “So, I know what will make you feel better, Mason,“ I tried to change the tone. “I wish you would pose and flex and turn yourself into the most beautiful muscular specimen on the planet, just for me.” Mason’s eyes lit up, even sparkled, as his posture regained his confidence. “Nothing would give me more satisfaction. Would you please give me a measurement to work from?” he asked with anticipation. “How about 30 inch biceps,” I responded, finally understanding the question. “Ah, probably the upper limit of most men. And a most wonderfully aesthetic size, allowing for beautiful symmetry on my six foot frame.” Mason took off the clothes he was wearing, my shirt and pants, leaving my stretchy boxers. It was convenient that he could wear my size, so we were able to avoid shopping for him, while my budget was tight. I took a comfortable seat on the couch. Mason stood just a few feet before me. “Thank you for asking me to pose for you. Masters of yore did not appreciate my body as an object of worship, with large bulging muscles. They were intimidated with how I could flex my muscles to huge proportions, making them feel insignificant and insecure. They always feared me.” He continued with praise, “You are different. You have a desire, a fascination for seeing my muscles flexed bigger than anyone has wanted me to flex before. Thank you for liberating me with your desires, Mike. I will do my best to please you.” Wow, please me he did. He began with kind of a dance, that was flowing and sensual. His tightly muscled physique was undulated, and defined. Wonderfully sharp and articulated muscle fibers appeared on his lean body. Then his muscles began to grow. His muscle fibers split and bulged anew, adding inches of hard, vascular, teen muscle to his youthful bodybuilder frame. He started to add a second of ‘freeze’ to his rhythmical movements, stopping to flex a pose. Each pose he flexed, got bigger and more defined. His calves mushroomed to 27 inches of diamond hard, angular, vascular, throbbing, double cantaloupes of snarled steel muscle fibers. The tear drop muscles over his knee looked like two fifty pound bags of cement, that would churn into striated ridges of muscles when he flexed, while the rest of his quad exploded with huge cables of criss-crossing sinew reaching at least 58 inches, each. As his routine continued, he would turn around and show all sides of his amazingly muscled body. His bulbous strips of gluteus muscles, his mogul mountain of hamstrings, all stood out with deep crevasses defining each muscle. His two lower back, spinal cables were thickly twisted muscle strands that could hold a suspension bridge aloft, growing even larger and more rippled as they moved up along his spine. His lats flared out in slabs of thick wings, with individual muscle ‘fingers’ squeezing out of the edges of his wide ‘v’ shape, that fought for space with his ballooning triceps. His traps were casings of bulging sausage that came up to his ears. I was having a hard time absorbing everything I was seeing. The absolutely stunning musculature before me, had not been seen by a human before. I felt inadequate, yet in a way, somewhat responsible for the emergence of his new existence. I could only stare and try to comprehend his power, his strength, all that he was surrendering to me to fulfill my desires. He kept dancing and posing, turning and flexing. I witnessed the most intricate and condensed display of abdominal muscle in the world, within a waist that only measured about 28 inches. The narrowness of his waist sharply contrasted the slabs of pectorals and lats that made up his 76 inch chest measurement. He raised his arms and flexed a double biceps pose. The caps of his massive shoulders fought for space between his head and biceps. The bowling pins of his forearms were 22 inches at least. And crowning the statue of muscle perfection, were two multi-headed monoliths of might, measuring 30 inches around. “Please don’t move for a moment,” I managed to whisper. I needed more time to take him all in, to force myself to breathe. Mason smiled at me and tensed a bit more, causing every muscle fiber to harden to steel, giving his body a sheen. I don’t think I was able to blink for over a minute. “May I move now, Mike?” Mason’s voice shocked me to the present. I managed to nod. He relaxed his flex and sat down next to me, putting his massive arm around me, pulling me to the cavern that was formed by his chest, lats and arm. “I am grateful that you found my vessel, Mike. I have never had a master that wanted me as a friend, like you. It is a very rewarding experience. You have opened my being to new experiences, given me new levels of awareness, released….feelings. I don’t believe I’ve had feelings before. I wish you would help me understand them,… friend.” He sounded like a confused teenager, genuinely asking for my help. “Of course, my Master,” I said, reversing roles. “That’s what friends are for.” *******************************

Misfit Chapter 5 Hamish Conner let out a satisfied sigh as he finished up his third helping of breakfast in the dining room of the Student Union. He’d loaded up on calorie-dense breakfast foods like bacon and eggs and sausage and hash browns. He’d also polished off two stacks of pancakes and a Belgian waffle. He loved the way his new and improved body was able to process such large amounts of food and hold the excess calories in reserve without converting to fat. The nanites-- his nanites-- made that possible. It was during the night that they had completed the integration with his central nervous system. Now they augmented his mind just the way they augmented his body. It was almost like there was a second presence inside him. In the early stages of his upgrade, the nanites sensed his inner needs sporadically and randomly at best. Now, he had conscious control of every cell in his body, right down to the molecular level. When complete integration was achieved, they had stripped away all the negative aspects of his inner self; the depression, the self-doubt, the self-loathing. Instead, he felt like he had an abundance of confidence and drive. They. He was already thinking of them as a sentient presence in his mind. And why not? Didn’t they speak to him in his moment of need? They allowed him to master his strengths and discard his weaknesses. Who wouldn’t want that? As he walked his tray and dirty dishes over to the bussing station, he couldn’t help but revel in the way his clothes felt. They were Paul’s clothes. That A&F stuff always looked sensational on Paul, and Ham knew that it looked just as good on him. After all, they were the same size now. Ham put his tray on the belt and inwardly smirked. He knew that all eyes, men and women alike, were on him. Is that what it was always like for Paul? Lucky bastard. That boy was always such a tease. Well, Ham could be a tease now, too. He felt his clothes get slightly tighter as he turned and walked out. The light from the window gradually crept across the floor until it reached Paul’s eyes. He squinted at the morning sun, and for a moment didn’t know where he was. Awareness trickled back in dribs and drabs. He was laying face down. He was on the floor. He was naked. He... “Oh, my god!” Paul blurted as he scrambled to his knees. His body was stiff and sore, like he’d been through the most brutal workout off his life. His anus was sore and tender, and as he reached back, the horrifying thoughts came flooding back. Ham had raped him. No, that couldn’t be right. The man that appeared in his dorm room in the small hours of the morning didn’t look anything like Ham. He had Ham’s face, sort of. But he definitely didn’t have Ham’s body. This man was strong and athletic and sexy and... No, no, no. He couldn’t think that way. Paul had never had a homosexual inclination in his life. He’d never even been curious about anything like that. He had a steady girlfriend and they fucked like bunnies on a regular basis. Yet, when he was in the presence of that mysterious man, there was nothing he wanted more in his life than to take him up the ass. Paul picked the bedclothes up off the floor, spread them haphazardly across his bed and sat down. He crinkled his nose as he realized the stench of semen was heavy in the air. Without warning, the smell made him double over and retch into the wastebasket. His eyes watered as the sharply acid vomit burned his throat and mouth and nose. As he tried to catch his breath, Paul groped around the floor until he found a dirty shirt. He wiped his face and tried to calm his rebellious gut. It couldn’t be, he thought. Somehow, he’d been in thrall to that man and the result was some of the most incredible sex he’d ever had, and it terrified him. As he was looking around the disheveled room for his sweats, he heard the door open. “Hey, buddy, you’re awake!” Ham smiled broadly. Fear and dread instantly gripped the pit of Paul’s stomach, and he immediately started scrambling backwards like a startled animal. “Stay away from me!” he shouted. “Relax. It’s just me,” Ham said. “Be calm.” And incredibly, Paul was. “Here, put something on,” Ham told him as he tossed Paul the sweats. Ham was pleased that his buddy had suddenly and enthusiastically begged him to fuck his brains out. It seemed right. It seemed natural. For a tiny instant, a trace of the old Ham whispered that it wasn’t right– that he was compelling his friend to act against his will– that this was very, very wrong. Then, just as quickly, the new Ham swept the thought away. “I always thought you had great taste in clothes,” Ham continued. “O’course, they’re a little tight on me.” He stuck out his elbows and looked down and admired the way the shirt was stretched tight across his chest and how the sleeves road up on his meaty biceps. “Who are you?” Paul asked. “I told you. It’s me, Ham.” “You can’t be...” “Ham I am. Ha! Get it?” “But how?” “Let’s just say I had a lucky accident.” Ham continued to flex and admire his arms. He crossed the room and started posing in the mirror. Paul came up behind him and was also staring intently at the image. Ham’s tee shirt was stretched even tighter across his chest, and he noted with satisfaction that he was now at least two inches taller than Paul. Paul closed his eyes and started rubbing his stubbly cheek against Ham’s bulging bicep. “Whoa, boy,” Ham said. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.” He concentrated on relaxing his roommate and Paul’s eyes became alert once again. Ham picked up his school books and started putting them in his backpack. “You’re not leaving, are you?” Paul said, his voice filled with distress. “Not to worry, my little hot one. I’ll be back after class.” Ham leaned over and gave Paul a peck on the cheek. “Don’t you have classes?” “I, I, I...” “You’re just so cute!” Ham said with a big grin. He gave Paul a little pat on the side of his face, turned and went to class. Ham relished the bracing autumn air as he strode confidently across campus. He wasn’t wearing a coat, of course. Who could possibly want him to cover up such an attractive specimen of manhood? Besides, he wasn’t the least bit chilled. Once again, that tiny voice of the old Ham struggled up from the depths– It’s not right, it said. You should be cold. You should be covered up. Just as quickly it disappeared. Ham knew not to listen to the voice anymore. That was the voice of insecurity, of depression, of fear. He would have no more of that. Up until now, he had never been truly alive. Almost as remarkable as his own transformation, was that of his roommate. Could two miracles happen in one day? Could lightning strike twice? Apparently, it could. Ham had always known deep in his heart that Paul secretly had the hots for him. That was the only explanation. All that macho hetero stuff was just an act. He’d have to make sure that Paul broke it to Sarah gently. Ham was looking forward to a stimulating class in advanced calculus when he happened past the Athletic Center. As he glanced through the open door, he had a sudden urge to go inside. The cavernous gymnasium was deserted. At this time of the morning, it should be bustling with activity. Ham crossed the gym floor and entered the locker room. As he came around the corner, he was stunned by what he saw. Standing before the mirror was the most massive bodybuilder Ham had ever seen. At least in person. His broad, thick back was to him, and the man was looking at his reflection while slowly rubbing his own body. He was surrounded by many other men– some in their underwear, some fully clothed, still others with just towels around their waists. They were all talking among themselves in hushed tones as they stared at the massive brute in front of them. It reminded Ham of that painting of The Last Supper. Meanwhile, the muscle man continued to stare, trance-like, at his reflection. He wasn’t quite as tall as Ham, but he looked to be every bit of two-hundred and fifty pounds, and not one single gram of it was fat. Thick veins cris-crossed his body, and it seemed that Ham could count every single fiber of every single muscle. The man’s thick neck was encased by bulging traps above broad, blocky shoulders. Huge, hemispherical pecs perched atop an expansive chest, and the man’s powerful torso tapered down to a lean, incredibly narrow waist. From there, the massive legs flared out to nearly as wide as his chest, pinched down to robust knee joints and then flared out at the calves once again. When the man let his arms hang loose, they hung more than thirty degrees from vertical as biceps nearly as big as his head fought for room with the rest of his upper body. Jutting fiercely upward from the man’s groin was a ten-inch cock that was as thick as a policeman’s truncheon. As Ham approached, the small crowd parted like the waters of the Bible. In a wave, the men dropped to their knees, starting with those closest to him. He was captivated by the rippling figure as he drew up alongside and continued to stare at the image in the mirror. Only then did the man even acknowledge that there was anyone else in the room. The strong, masculine face in the mirror slowly looked up until its eyes met his own. “You did this, didn’t you?” the man whispered. It was then he recognized the man. It was Fred Wilson, the gym attendant that had generously given Ham his very first blow job, the night before. The little voice tried to make one last attempt to tell Ham that he was out of control, that he was a monster, but it never had a chance. No, Ham thought, he was the farthest thing from a monster. He was a benevolent god, bestowing gifts upon his worshipers. Fred had serviced his worshipful master, and had been rewarded with a god-like body of his own. Ham felt the warmth of his own benevolence as he smiled at Fred. The men around them started moaning and groping their own crotches, good disciples all. He leaned in and planted a deep, sensuous kiss on Fred’s lips, then moved his mouth near Fred’s ear. “You’re welcome,” he whispered. Fred’s magnificent body went rigid as his face hardened into a grimace and his eyes rolled back in his head. He grunted deeply as his cock swelled even bigger, his balls drew up and he started spraying prodigious volumes of jism all over the mirror. Almost simultaneously, the men around them started moaning and grunting and cursing and experiencing orgasms of their own. Ham looked down benignly at his acolytes. It was good to be a god. “Psst! Hey, Doc!” Professor Lofgren furrowed his brow as he looked around for the voice. He’d been on his way to the Science Building, and was nearly there when he was stopped by someone calling to him. “Over here!” The voice seemed to be coming from a fenced enclosure surrounded by shrubbery just off to the left of the rear entrance to the building. It had been built some years ago to conceal extra air conditioning and refrigeration equipment for the basement lab. The gate was open a few inches and this seemed to be the source of the caller. “Who is it? What do you want?” the professor asked as he warily approached. A massive hand shot from the opening and clamped around his upper arm. Before he could even wince from the vise-like grip, he was nearly pulled off his feet and yanked inside the enclosure. “What the fuck...” Another equally massive hand covered his mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you, Doc,” said a deep, husky voice. “I need your help.” A huge form loomed over him in the semi-darkness. “I’m going to let go, okay?” Lofgren didn’t really have any choice. The man’s hand was so large and pressed against his face so hard that he couldn’t breath. The professor nodded his head slightly. The big hands fell away and he gasped. “I’m really sorry, Doc. There just wasn’t any other way.” As Lofgren caught his breath, his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Standing before him was an unbelievably large man, at least a foot taller than he. That meant he had to be at least six-eight, maybe ten. He had a large blanket draped over his shoulders that covered him down to just above his knees. And what shoulders they were– they had to be at least three feet wide. The man adjusted the blanket and almost comically tried to pull it closed across his jutting chest with one of those oversized hands. Around the man’s remarkably narrow waist was what appeared to be an oversized beach towel. “Who are you?” Lofgren asked. The man stuck out one of his oversized mitts. “Lee Prentice, sir,” he said. “You had me in Introduction to Physics last year.” Lofgren watched as his hand disappeared in the other man’s. “Mmm... no...” he said slowly. “I’d be certain to remember you...” “That’s just it,” Lee said. “I didn’t look like this last year.” He pulled an old leather billfold that he had tucked into his waist. “Let me show you...” Lee started fumbling at the wallet with his big fingers. “Here,” he said as he thrust the wallet at Lofgren in frustration. “Look at my driver’s license. Look at my ID.” Lofgren was mentally calculating the percentage chance that the man before him could be a very large, very dangerous lunatic, and was a bit reluctant to take his eyes off of him. Nonetheless, he opened the wallet and drew out a driver’s license. His expression was dubious as he looked back and forth between the man before him and the young boy in the picture. “I was sixteen when that was taken,” Lee said anxiously. “Look at the ID.” The professor pulled out the student ID. While the young man in that picture looked a bit older, there was no way it could be the hulking figure before him. Lee could see the continued doubt in Lofgren’s face. “This is your brother?” Lofgren asked tentatively. “No, Doc, it’s me! Honest!” Lee looked down at the other man pleadingly. “This happened overnight!” “What do you mean, overnight?” “I mean, OVERNIGHT!” Lofgren shrank back at the big man’s emphatic statement. He looked again at the ID. The resemblance was undeniable, but there was just no way... “Why did you come to me?” “I think this has to do with one of your students, Ham Conner.” “Ham? What could he possibly have to do with this?” “You knew he was gay, right?” “Well, no, I...” “Take it from me. At any rate, I’d been trying to get a relationship going. We’d met in a gay chat room. He didn’t know it was me, and when he found out, he was a little freaked.” No wonder, Lofgren thought. “And what does this have to do with...” “I’m getting to that. Anyway, I’d seen him around campus, and I was trying to get him used to the idea of dating, but there was something else going on with him. Did you have an explosion in your lab a couple of nights ago?” “Why, yes.” “And Ham was there?” “No. Well, yes, he was there before the explosion. But he left before it happened. There was no one in the lab.” “He was there. He was exposed to whatever was in the experiment.” “The nanites?” “If that’s what they’re called.” “But their not viable outside the containment vessel.” “I kinda think they are.” “That’s impossible.” Lee held out his massive hands. “Doc, yesterday I was five-foot-nine and weighed one-forty-five.” Lofgren folded his arms and looked up at Lee. “This is a joke, right?” Lee gave another massive, frustrated sigh. “I took him back to my room last night. He didn’t look too good and he had a gash on his head. I was just going to fix that up for him, but one thing led to another, you know? “No. I don’t know.” “Whatever. Let’s just say that we both got a little excited.” “Whatever.” “Right,” Lee said, trying to keep his temper under control. “So we were getting a little friendly, and Ham starts to change.” “Change? How?” “He starts growing. A lot. In just a couple of minutes, he was bigger than I am now. A lot bigger.” Lofgren narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Then what happened?” “I fainted.” “Hmmph.” Lofgren turned to leave and Lee grabbed him by shoulders. “Doc, I’m telling you,” he said sharply, “this... is... not... a... joke.” Lee shook the professor with each syllable. Lofgren looked up at him fearfully and Lee slowly took his hands away. “When I came to,” he continued, “he was so tall, the back of his head was brushing the ceiling. He had to weigh a thousand pounds.” “Come now...” “Doc, he raped me,” Lee said softly. “He fucked me into unconsciousness. When I woke up, I was like this. You have to believe me.” The big man was clearly unstable. He was near enough to the breaking point that Lofgren feared what might happen if he tried to flee again. It seemed best to humor him until he could alert campus police. “Come with me down to the lab.” Lee breathed another huge sigh, this time of relief. “What if someone sees me?” Lee asked. “If they see you, they see you. What difference will it make?” Lee had to admit to himself that he didn’t have a good answer to that question. He followed the professor into the building and down the stairs to the lab. As they went, they were met by the odd passerby and got the predictable double-takes. “Take a seat over there,” the professor said, gesturing to a stool next to some kind of an instrument. It was a large console about chest high–- Lofgren’s chest, that is-– with a top that looked like black glass. Above the glass was an apparatus that looked vaguely like an x-ray machine on a flexible arm. Lee walked over to the stool and regarded it for a moment. It was typical of the seating you’d find in a lab, with casters and a revolving seat and back. “Go on,” Lofgren insisted. Lee sat down on the seat and it almost immediately started to collapse. “I’d better stand.” Lofgren came over and moved the bent stool out of the way. “Let me see your hand,” he said. Lee held out his left hand and Lofgren placed it palm down on the glass top. Then he adjusted to other part of machine until it was a few inches above Lee’s hand. “This will tell us whether or not you have any nanites in your system.” Lofgren went back across the room and sat at a computer console. “Is this an x-ray machine?” Lee asked. “Something like that,” Lofgren answered. “Don’t worry; it doesn’t use that kind of radiation. It’s more like an MRI. Keep your hand still.” Lofgren started punching commands into the computer, and soon, Lee could feel a barely perceptible hum–- kind of like an electric appliance. “Don’t move,” Lofgren said. “This could take a few minutes.” While the machine was analyzing Lee’s hand, Lofgren sent an email to the campus police telling them he had an unruly student in his lab, and requesting that they come immediately. Once that was accomplished, he switched back to monitor the test program. As he watched the data come in, he became more and more concerned. Once the testing sequence was complete, Lofgren went back over the data again, just to be sure. “You can take your hand away,” he said. Lee removed his oversized hand and started to walk over to where the professor was sitting. “Don’t move!” came a shout from behind. Lee turned around to see two campus police officers standing by the door. “Holy shit,” one officer said as he got a good look at Lee. “That’s alright officers,” Lofgren called to them. “False alarm. Everything’s fine.” The two officers were clearly awestruck at the size of the being before them. They quickly snapped out of their amazement, but showed no inclination to move any further from the door. “You sure about this, professor?” one of the officers asked. “Absolutely. It was just a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine.” “Well, okay,” the officer said as they turned to leave. “Let us know if you need us.” The two men exited the lab without any further delay. Lee walked over to the professor with a puzzled look on his face. “Did you call the police?” Lofgren looked up at Lee with an embarrassed expression. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “Sit down.” “But I...” “Pull over that box,” Lofgren said, gesturing toward a heavy-duty equipment case. Lee sat on the box and looked intently at the professor, almost afraid at what he’d hear.

‘Wow Pedro that was one hell of a workout we just had baby.’ Victor rolls over to his side to face his beefy Puerto Rican boyfriend and puts his arms around him. They lean in and kiss each other passionately as they mesh their bodies together. The two men smile as they feel the warm Miami breeze against their bare skin and hear the tides in the ocean moving a few feet from where they are laying. ‘Aye papi, I love you so much. I am so grateful that we met last year because you saved me from a life of regret. I was miserable being fat. You helped me to understand though that it isn’t necessarily about the physical aspects, but rather what is inside too.’ Victor rubs Pedro’s buzzed hair on his head and leans his furry face against his. ‘You actually saved me Pedro. My relationship with Michael was not great and in fact one of my close friends hinted that he was cheating on me.’ Pedro squeezes Victor’s body tightly. ‘I suppose you are talking about that British man that you know really well right papi? I would like to meet him someday if he is the reason that you found me. He seems to have helped you cope with your demons.’ The two men lie nude on the beach for several more minutes to take in the fading sun before getting up to shake the sand off before they walk back up the stairs and into the beach house they are staying at. They kiss each other longingly again before taking turns showering. Pedro tells Victor that he needs to get some sleep so he isn’t a zombie at work the next day. He hugs the sexy black-bearded man goodnight and disappears into their bedroom. Victor goes to retrieve their mail for the day and finds a small package tucked between the bills. He takes it out from the pile and sits at their dining room table to examine it. He smiles and notices the Royal Mail sticker on it and immediately knows who it is from. He peels the strip back on the edge of the envelope and peers inside. He notices a small box from within and pulls it out. He briefly looks it over and opens it. ‘Hmmm…..what have you sent me Achilles? A temporary tattoo? *looks it over with a puzzled face* Very strange…..well it does look really cool…..i will have to decide where to put it.’ The tattoo is of a very muscular bull with a likeness of Victor as its face. He stares at it intently and wonders if perhaps Achilles sent this to him as a possible inspiration piece. He gets up from the table and goes back into the bathroom again to stare into the mirror at his incredibly beefy muscular body. His tight shorts hug his huge quads and steel ass as he turns from side to side to take in his hugeness. He has a snake tattoo that stretches from his left trap all the way down to his right pec and there are tats on both shoulders and arms. Since he has a playing card pattern on his left leg, he thinks that the bull tat should go on his right leg. He doesn’t really want to put it on yet, at least not until he gets up to workout again the next day so he can show it off at the gym. He puts it on the counter for now until he wakes up the next morning. After looking himself over and using the bathroom, he climbs into bed with Pedro and puts his arms around his lover so he can get comfortable before he falls asleep. The Puerto Rican hottie reaches down and slides Victor’s shorts off so he can massage the thick stud’s huge quads. ‘I thought you were sleeping baby. Surely you aren’t in the mood again are you?’ ‘Papi, you know I go crazy for your quads. They are so powerful and feel so good against my body.’ Pedro turns Victor to his side and flips his own body around so that his ass rubs against the beefy stud’s legs. His hairy cock now presses against the latino stud’s butt. Victor flexes his quads making the huge diamond-shaped muscles twitch and bounce as his cock slowly grows. He moans lightly as he pulls Pedro up against him. ‘MMMMM papi, put it inside me and it will help me relax like you always do. I love you.’ Victor growls and pushes his cock all the way in as Pedro maneuvers himself in bed as his tattooed lover slowly grinds him. They both moan deeply as the beefy stud picks up speed after sliding his entire cock inside his latino partner. Knowing he can’t hold out much longer, Victor stops to lean in and kiss his Puerto Rican lover’s neck to make the sensation last longer. He edges a few times to make his balls swell up until they are ready to burst. Pedro grips Victor’s thick quads and grunts feeling his big lover trying not to let go. He turns his head and gives him a very lustful look. ‘Do it papi, I want to feel you fill my guts with your hot lava like you always do. I love you so much.’ Within just seconds, Victor unleashes his little boys into Pedro. They both yell in delight as they kiss each other deeply and relax their bodies. The sweat pours off both men saturating the sheets to the point that they both laugh. The beefy big man pulls out of his partner and gets up to grab another set from the nearby cabinet. Pedro jumps to his feet and pulls them off before throwing them over to the side. He walks over to Victor and puts his arm on his shoulder and turns his head to speak. ‘Papi…..wait, we need to clean up before we put another set on. Should we take separate showers?’ Victor smiles and puts the sheets down on the floor before picking Pedro up and taking him to the bathroom. He sits him down in the shower on the bench and turns the water on. The Puerto Rican squeals feeling the cold water hitting him which gets Victor’s attention immediately as he turns the hot water on. After getting the temperature just right, he hops in with his lover and starts lathering up his body with the bottle of Axe body wash that they both love so much. The smell makes Pedro horny again as his cock grows and pulses behind Victor’s soapy back. He stands up and puts his arms around the big guy and kisses his huge delts. ‘Hehe, is it my turn now papi? I don’t normally feel so inclined to be the top, but this scent always makes me get so sexed up.’ He pushes his cock inside Victor’s pulsing hole and slowly fucks him which makes the big guy growl lightly as he grips the sides of the shower. Pedro’s steady rhythm eventually makes the beefy stud lose himself in the moment as he leans back against his sexy furry lover. The latino puts his hands down the front of Victor’s chest and runs his fingers up and down the thick mounds of muscle sitting on the beefy stud’s chest. He finds his nipples and pinches them making Victor growl as a result. They kiss longingly as the water cascades down their bodies. Pedro moans feeling his balls swelling as he continues to thrust in and out of his big hunky partner. He wraps his arms around Victor and whispers in his ear that he is going to return the favor as he pumps him full of thick cum. They both grunt as they stand there letting the cum flow from one man to another. Victor closes his eyes and smiles as Pedro peers around to see him doing this. He makes a funny gesture which the big stud doesn’t see since his eyes are closed. ‘What are you thinking about papi? Why don’t you let me in on your naughty thoughts.’ Victor opens his eyes and looks Pedro straight into his before he says something. ‘Mmmmm…..well I am just imagining what could happen if maybe we let our minds take over our bodies baby.’ The stunned Puerto Rican seems to know what his lover is talking about in a way as he pulls out of Victor, cleans his crotch, and steps out of the shower to towel off. Victor turns the water off and follows him out to grab another towel. They dry off and walk through the beach house nude. Pedro decides to walk out on the balcony to just watch the waves for a few minutes while Victor goes off to do some things around the house since they are not tired anymore. After about twenty minutes, the big man meets up with his latino lover on the balcony with a big surprise. ‘Look baby what Achilles sent me. *shows Pedro the tattoo* Want to help me put it on my right leg?’ Pedro takes it from Victor’s hand and looks it over. He smiles and thinks that maybe this isn’t an ordinary tattoo. He motions for the beefy stud to go sit in one of their beach chairs while he goes to moisten it. Victor grins and turns to run over to a chair as his muscles twitch and flex and his ballsac bounces. Pedro returns a couple of minutes later in a hurry himself trying to make sure that the tattoo doesn’t dry out in the beach air. ‘Put your leg out papi, I don’t have much time for this.’ The Puerto Rican gets down on his knees and positions the tattoo on Victor’s right leg and rubs it on quickly making sure it has no ripples in it. The big man shivers feeling sensations running up and down his body which makes his cock twitch a couple of times as a little bit of precum dribbles down on to the sand. Pedro makes a couple of low sounds noticing how this is affecting his partner. The tattoo may have even winked at Pedro at least he thinks he saw it wink. He looks up at Victor’s eyes and sees a spark in them he hasn’t seen before. The big stud stands up and stretches for about a minute before walking down to the ocean. ‘WAIT! PAPI! It winked at me, I swear. How are you feeling? Are you okay Victor?’ Victor turns around and motions for his lover to come join him down along the coastline. A few people walk by and stare at them, even a couple of them stop to look at the nude couple. Pedro smiles at him and charges before jumping into his arms and laughing as they fall on to the wet sand below them. They are approached by one of the bystanders who seem to be interested in joining them on the ground, but Victor gives him a warning by snarling which makes Pedro a bit confused. The man gets the point and turns to walk away quickly. ‘You just snarled like a…..bull papi. Is it possible that this tattoo will somehow change who you are?’ Victor looks up at his confused lover and has a noticeable change in his eye color as a reddish tint seems to be mixing in with his brown eyes. Strangely, Pedro is not that worried about it and leans down to kiss him on the lips. The beefy stud grunts loudly feeling something happening from inside his body which makes his latino lover start to anticipate some kind of physical change in him. ‘What is going to happen to you Victor? I hope you are still able to maintain your identity after all of this is done.’ Victor strains feeling his toes cracking and melding themselves together on both of his feet. He groans as they stretch and widen to form what appear to be giant bull hooves. Pedro’s eyes widen seeing this happen and can feel his lover’s legs starting to change as well. A large patch of hair begins growing on top of each hoof as the veins in his arms and legs start to protrude and grow thicker underneath the skin. The Puerto Rican doesn’t hesitate to feel Victor’s muscles as they expand in along his fingers. His legs widen as the muscles blow up into engorged mounds stretching the skin to its limits. Pedro moans as he watches his mate transforming into something unlike himself. Victor does not appear to be in any kind of pain either as it moves into his crotch and midsection. His cock and balls inflate to twice their size mesmerizing his latino lover as he sees the ballsac growing trying to contain the two huge bull testicles. He leans in to lick and taste Victor’s growing pole as it swells turning to a much deeper purple color. He catches some of the salty juices flowing from its slit as it gapes open. He rubs his mate’s newly grown bull legs feeling their raging power and marveling at his incredible size. He looks up at Victor and watches his head as it starts to change its shape slightly as his nose stretches parting his nostrils as they double in size. His mouth stretches further up his face as two horns protrude from the sides of his head. The brownish red hair he saw grow out from other parts of his lover’s body are now thickening up on Victor’s head above his newly sheathed horns. Pedro knows now that he is changing into a bull like creature which makes his own cock leak precum. He leans up against Victor’s chest feeling his abs protruding as they stretch and pull themselves to the sides of his torso. The emerging musclebull rears his head back as his pecs flare out and swell bigger and fuller than ever before. His back and lats pop multiple times accommodating the extra size as they too swell and grow. Pedro wastes no time running his hands over the massive muscles on his lover’s new torso and moves his mouth up to start chewing and sucking on Victor’s powerful new pecs and nipples. The forest of hair sitting on top of them drives the Puerto Rican wild as he pets it with his hands. The huge bull wraps his incredible arms around his latino lover’s back and holds him against his body as his biceps and triceps continue to thicken up, pressing the engorged volleyball sized bulbs against Pedro. The hispanic stud moans deeply as his cock finally shoots cum down Victor’s abs and his right bull leg. He snarls and reaches for Pedro’s face to make him look up at him. The musclebull’s face is done transforming as his reddish-brown eyes and fur glean in the nighttime. The Puerto Rican moves up to plunge his tongue down the manimal’s throat which meets up with Victor’s new thick tongue. Subsequently, the bigger tongue finds itself moving down inside the eager human’s throat. The musclebeast grips his lover tightly pressing him up against his thick tool and grunts teasing his hole with it. Pedro’s desire for this new creature is overtaking his senses as he relaxes his body to allow Bull Victor to enter him. The bull’s hulking hands are surprisingly smooth and provide a calming effect for the latino man. The huge creature finally penetrates him spreading his ass wider and making the Puerto Rican wince with every inch that enters him. Despite the noticeable pain, Pedro feels waves of pleasure rushing through him. His lust for the musclebeast is obvious now as well as Victor’s complete acceptance of his dramatic transformation. The huge beast’s eyes glisten staring into his human lover’s own as he fucks him slowly and methodically trying to conjure up the gallon of bull semen sitting in his engorged sac. Pedro can smell the incredible aroma emanating from Victor’s crotch as feels his beastly lover starting to strain making his powerful muscles drip with perspiration against Pedro’s more insignificant ones. The small human knows his time is coming soon to join his animalistic lover. He stops kissing Victor to look at him again in his loving eyes. ‘MMMMM papi…..I want to hear you say something to me. Can you talk? I am dying to know what you sound like in this insanely powerful body.’ Bull Victor smiles and shows off his new thick teeth that have grown in before he tries to speak. ‘I……*deep rumbling tone*……can talk baby……*his voice sends shivers up and down Pedro’s body which makes the human grind his cock more*…….*Victor grunts as he does so*……mmmmmm I always had this feeling about you baby……we share a common bond for muscle and power……and….. a slight touch of beastiality it seems. *winks* I can’t wait to see your beautiful animal side Pedro, I hope you can handle it baby.’ Victor places his huge hands on Pedro’s sides and grips him as he starts to snarl feeling his balls contracting and pushing cum into his bullcock. The flood starts to fill the small human’s insides which is making Pedro gasp as he squeezes the musclebull’s powerful 28” biceps. The huge manimal sees a look of fear in the human’s eyes but wants him to just keep focusing on his face. ‘Baby…..*still pumping cum inside Pedro*…..just relax your body and let it do what it needs to do. You will be beautiful to me no matter what happens now. *smiles at him and flips his big muscly tail that is attached above his giant muscle butt* I bet you never thought you would like a tail on me did you?’ *smiles at him* Victor finally stops fucking Pedro as a small river of cum flows down his cock. He can see that Pedro is now in considerable pain as his transformation begins almost immediately. The musclebull moves his human lover down against his immense torso to make him more comfortable as he pulls his cock out of his Puerto Rican lover’s hole and starts rubbing Pedro’s back and ass caressing him waiting for his lover’s body to start its inevitable metamorphosis into another stage of evolution. For other stories in this series, check out the one with the mirror: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3467-the-other-side-of-the-mirror/ and the one with the otherworldly man: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3764-the-other-side-of-our-minds/

(Hope you don't mind a re-post from the old site) I scanned the bar quickly as I walked through the front door. This is my turf, the place where I feel most comfortable. I’ve come here early on a Sunday evening since this is the time when the kind of guy I most desire will arrive. I’m looking for the men that have no idea that gay bars don’t get going until long after nine pm – even on a work night. I’m not disappointed, the place is full enough for me to find a nice distraction for the evening, but not so full that I’d get overwhelmed by too many choices. I pause after walking through the doorway to give everyone the chance to check out the latest addition to the crowd, knowing everyone is scoping me out, even if they don’t turn and look. Some use the long mirror behind the massive long bar and some just use their highly trained peripheral vision. I notice some of the other “regulars” get a disappointed look on their face when they see it’s someone they already know, but that doesn’t matter to me. I quickly determine that there are about five “fresh” guys worth checking out that are standing in the front room of the small bar. I continue to glance around the place without letting my gaze land anywhere particular. I make eye contact with no one. The first three new guys I survey are not my type – cute enough, but that’s just it – they’re cute. I’m looking for something more, much more. As I walk to the bar to order my first beer I take full stock of the last two newbies. Number four has a lot of potential. He’s pretty tall, I’d say six one, and has a surfer’s build. He could certainly take my mind off of the fact that the weekend is ending in a few short hours. I could be the surf board that he rides this evening and I get the feeling his body could handle the ocean motion I’d create. I grab the beer I just paid for and move to my favorite standing place, just inside the large archway between the two rooms. This spot gives me a great view of the entire place and will help me to get a long look at new man number five who’s concealed slightly since he’s standing in the corner on the other side of the jukebox. I use the motion of tilting my head back while taking a swig of beer as a chance to stare inconspicuously at the final choice for the evening. At this point I’m pretty sure that surfer dude was going to be my number one choice, but I needed to be fair to all the contestants. The view that waits in the corner causes me to freeze with the beer bottle in the air - pressed against my lips. I almost choke from the rush of liquid that flows into my mouth. I quickly lower the bottle but I don’t move my eyes from the big guy hiding in the shadows on the other side of the room. I say “big” because the first thing I notice are arms that are forcing the fabric of his short-sleeved shirt to bunch up above bulging biceps. Damn, I love that look. The guy is looking at a poster on the wall next to him so I am able to stare without him knowing. The word that comes to mind as I survey his upper torso is “beefy.” I can tell immediately that he is packed with some serious muscle. Everything seems to be just right – wide shoulders, big arms, thick neck, mountainous pecs, and what seems like a pretty nice face. The darkness of the corner prevented me from seeing all of his features, but my motto is “it doesn’t matter what the guy looks like since his face will be in the pillow for most of the evening.” I was more interested in the huge body and what I hoped would be a tightly muscled bubble ass. Mr. Muscle, my new name for him, was leaning against the wall so I couldn’t tell how tall he was or if his legs’ size matched the rest of his body. I hoped so; I did not like guys that worked hard to perfect their upper body and never paid attention to their legs. It always made me think the man wasn’t “all there” – as if he was some kind of weird modern painting that made a statement about unfinished tasks. Suddenly, Mr. Muscle pushed himself from the wall and stood straight up. His movements caused me to get a good look at his upper torso while I also confirmed that the south side of him definitely matched the north side. He had thick legs that seemed to stretch his jeans almost to breaking point. When he stood straight I was rewarded in so many ways – first, he was about six feet tall or more, second, I saw that his face was actually quite nice, and third, I got a chance to take in his upper body in the light. Mr. Muscle was definitely big and thick, but he wasn’t perfectly chiseled like some of those bodybuilders that end up looking plastic and fake. He was built like some kind of muscled power lifter – you know the type, a guy that has just a smidgen of fat around his waist, but the huge muscles that cover every other part of his body make it almost unnoticeable. Shit, I would not have care if he had a roid gut or a freaking beer belly, his chest, arms, legs, and shoulders made him a walking wet dream. I could tell the guy had some serious strength to go with those muscles and I instantly became determined to rope in that beefy bull. I continue to stare at the guy and let his beautiful body cause my face to light up with a natural, friendly smile – that made my desires and my intentions clear to anyone that might look my way. I knew every guy in the bar was staring at Mr. Muscle – everyone was trying to figure out a way to get the big guy to notice him, but I also knew that no other guy here had the “shark” skills I possessed. As a matter of fact I knew that was the nickname many people used to refer to me, “The Shark.” I didn’t care because I knew my skills of circling my prey had landed me in bed with some of the hottest guys in town. What was the problem with that? I took another swig of beer, but I kept my eyes locked on Mr. Muscle. The big man awkwardly looked around the room, making sure his gaze didn’t stay in one place for too long. I began to get a feeling about his personality as I watched him only let his gaze land on empty places throughout the room. I also noticed how the beer bottle he was holding was empty and he was busy tearing the paper label off one small strip at a time. I continued to keep my eyes locked on him, just waiting for the big moment to happen. Finally, the heat that must have been radiating off of my revved up body reached him across the room. He looked up and turned this gaze directly at me. Dang, this Mr. Muscle was rugged looking. My cock stirred a little just from locking eyes with the man. As soon as he noticed me staring at him the big guy froze. His mouth opened slightly as it dawned on him that I had probably been watching him for a while. Then, suddenly, the guy’s face turned red and he quickly looked down at the floor. Shit, Mr. Muscle was fucking shy! Wait for it, I thought, and didn’t move a muscle. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . and bingo the guy looked back up to see if I was still staring. He immediately returned his gaze to the floor when he saw I hadn’t quit staring. A bigger smile crept across my face. The Shark had found his catch for the evening. I sprang into action and walked back to the bar. I ordered two beers, all the time knowing that Mr. Muscle was watching me. As soon as I turned around I saw the guy turn his head from me and again pretended to look at the poster on the wall. I made my way slowly toward the guy, walking with an attitude that made Mr. Muscle nervously shift back and forth on his feet as he watched from the corner of his eyes. When I finally stood in front of him, he straightened up, glanced at me, smiled, and then looked back down at the ground. I noticed that he was just a few inches taller than my six-foot frame. Damn, this man was fine. I held out a beer. “Thought you could use another one.” The big guy froze after I spoke. He just stared at the beer with a face that was full of fear – as if I actually held a gun pointed at him. I could tell his brain was working on overload. He finally reached up and grabbed the bottle, being extra careful to not let his hand touch mine. When he finally spoke it was mumbled and very soft. He continued to look at the bottle and not at me. “Thanks.” “Your welcome. My name’s Demetri.” He looked up at me and I noticed his face was even redder than before. I wasn’t sure, but I think the guy was actually shaking a little. He started to speak, then cleared his throat, and took a swig of his new beer. I loved how his lips were slightly wet when he lowered the bottle. I wanted my tongue to swipe the beer from his kisser instead of his own. “My name is Con . . . I mean Conrad.” “Cool name. May I take that?” He still had the empty beer bottle in his other hand and I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do with it. I reached out and took the bottle from his hand. He watched my movements as I turned to place it on the top of the jukebox. I then turned to look at his rugged face – dark eyes, slight stubble, sunken cheeks, and a Roman nose. This guy definitely had some Italian blood in him. That was like icing on the muscle cake for me. “First time here, Con?” I used the name he had quickly corrected earlier since it was obviously what most people called him. I don’t think he even noticed. It seemed to ease the tension a little that I used his nickname. He answered without even hesitating. “Yeah. Actually, it’s my first time out . . . ever. I mean, to a place like this. I . . . uh, I’m . . . I am kind of inexperienced.” Sweet! A true newbie! It doesn’t get any better than that! Wait, it does! He’s as big as a fucking bull and that makes it much nicer! I smiled at the guy with my best “that’s okay” kind of look. I had moved into my smooth operator mode by this time. I was already trying to choose whether his legs would be draped over my shoulder as I plowed him or if I wanted him to lay face down on the bed. Confidence and charm poured out of me. “That’s okay Conrad. I have enough experience for the both of us. You just stand there looking great and let Demetri take the lead, okay? I certainly can help make this painless for you. Your in good hands.” Believe it or not, this line of crap actually seemed to calm the big boy down. This confirmed that I was truly standing in front of a gay bar virgin. A fucking huge gay bar virgin, at that. My cock was beginning to ache from shooting so hard so fast – a reaction caused from the anticipation of fucking a gay bar virgin. I also momentarily allowed myself to contemplate that Mr. Muscle Conrad was a virgin in other ways and this thought made me leak a little sweet juice from my dickhead. I decided to take a new approach with this guy – I knew I needed to build up his confidence. “You know you’re the best looking man in here don’t you, Conrad? Not to mention the biggest!” I just stared at the guy after I finished speaking. He quickly looked around the room to find someone that would contradict my statements. Even though he was extremely embarrassed, I could tell that he did acknowledge to himself no one else was larger. He returned his gaze to me and I saw a flash of confidence flow through his eyes as he answered. “I may be the biggest, but I’m not the best looking . . . that would . . . I mean, in my opinion . . . that would be you.” Touché Conrad. The big man did have a little spunk after all. His comment actually made me smile with appreciation. Mr. Muscle, of course, immediately took a long drink of his beer after the statement and then returned his gaze to the floor. He was embarrassed by his forwardness – a reaction that pleased me to no end. “Thank you Conrad. I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I did, however, notice that you didn’t arguer about being the biggest man here. Now, did you?” He, again, looked around the bar. I’m pretty sure he was double-checking his earlier assessment. He didn’t look at me when he responded, but I could tell it was very hard to acknowledge what we both already knew was true. “I guess I’m kind of big . . . I mean, I’m not sure . . . I . . . I’m not really sure that I’m the biggest guy here. But it kinda looks that way, I guess.” “Trust me, Con, you are the biggest by far. It would take at least two of any men here to match your size and bulk. I bet you’re pretty strong, too, aren’t you?” This statement caught him off guard. He looked at me and scrunched his face in embarrassment. He then looked back down at the ground and began to shuffle his feet again. This guy was so incredibly shy it was fucking unbelievable. I smiled and waited for him to look back up. Finally he stopped shuffling – aware that I was staring at him. “I dunno, I mean . . . I guess I’m kind of strong. I’ve never compared myself to anyone. The guys at work say I’m strong, though.” There was an ounce of pride in his last statement. I suddenly realized I was getting somewhere with the compliments. I took a long sip from my beer and continued to look at the big guy. “So it looks like you work out a lot, too. What gym do you belong to?” Again, Mr. Muscle looked at the floor from embarrassment. This made his chin almost rest on his pumped up chest. It was a beautiful site. I could tell the guy was struggling to find a way to say what was on his mind. He finally looked up at me. “I don’t belong to a gym, Demetri . . . and I don’t lift weights.” Fuck me and the horse I rode in on! This guy was this huge naturally? That was music to my ears and it made me feel like I was winning some kind of lottery jackpot. My mouth fell open in disbelief and my cock began to throb from the excitement his confession caused inside me. The Shark had caught himself a prime piece of beef tonight. A prime piece of big muscled beef! “Damn, Conrad. You mean to tell me that you’ve had all this bulging muscle for most of your life?” “Well, yeah . . . kind of. I did most of my growing in high school, though. I guess I’m still getting bigger some. I mean I do a lot of lifting at work and stuff. I think that’s made me grow a little.” “Shit, man, what do you do?” “I work construction and do a little landscaping.” That explained the big boy’s nice tan and it also meant the beautiful lighter streaks in his hair were probably natural, too. This muscled monster just kept getting better. I was still amazed that his huge body wasn’t the result of hard workouts in the gym. The man must have the genes of some kind of fucking Greek god or something. I let my eyes wander down his frame aggressively. I could tell my attention both bothered the guy and flattered him at the same time. He truly didn’t know how to react to my obvious approval. “You are one huge man, Con. I mean it. You’ve got muscles that most men can only dream of having. You’re a lucky guy.” “Uh . . . thanks, Demetri.” We stood there in silence. I was too distracted by thoughts of what it would be like to be naturally huge like Conrad. I could only imagine what havoc I would cause in the world if I had his body. I took a long gander at his arms and pecs – noting that the skin covering his biceps looked like smooth hard lightly brown marble. I immediately noticed that the silence made Conrad very uncomfortable. He began to fidget like a small child and kept taking quick sips of his beer until there was nothing left in the bottle. I didn’t want the guy to feel more awkward so I finished off my own beer with one long swallow. “We both must be thirsty. Excuse me for a second while I go get us both another beer.” “I . . . um . . . should get this one, Demetri. It’s just that . . . um . . . you got the last one.” “Now, now, Con. Didn’t I tell you that I’d take the lead? Let Demetri make your evening nice, okay?” “Uh . . . okay . . . thanks.” I walked away slowly, knowing that the big guy would watch my ass as I moved away from him. I knew it was one of my best assets – no pun intended. My tight jeans emphasized my firm mega-round cheeks perfectly and I knew the way my back tapered into my caboose made it stand out even more. Just before the archway to the other room I quickly turned around to see big Conrad staring at me. He immediately jumped a little and turned away. The poor boy looked like he had been caught stealing a million dollars. He was so shaken that he almost dropped his empty beer bottle. I let out a chuckle and kept my eyes glued to the guy – I knew he would glance back after a few seconds. And, true to form, he turned his head back to look at me. I flashed him a big smile and waved. He held up his hand halfway and stood there embarrassed. I turned and walked to the bar. As I stood in line waiting to be served I began to fantasize how it would be to undress that fucking huge Christmas present in the other room. I started to sport a little wood in my tight pants just from thinking about peeling that close-fitting shirt off of Conrad’s body. One of the best moments in life is when you got to see some huge guy’s chiseled body for the first time. I didn’t think it would ever get old taking a gander at Conrad naked, but there is nothing like that original moment when monster pecs and bulging arms are unveiled. I was pretty sure big Conrad had never worshipped in the way he deserved and I got the feeling he was going to be blown away by my expertise in this particular field. I knew how to make a big stallion feel good – and I had never been around such a big horse before. I quickly ordered the drinks and returned to the other room. Conrad was standing there waiting for me, like a puppy at the door when his owner returns at the end of the day. I could tell the big guy was excited about the fact that I was taking charge of the situation. Little did he know that I’d be taking charge of a whole lot more later on. “Here you go big guy.” I held out a beer for him. He placed his empty bottle next to the one I had put on the jukebox beside him and then grabbed the full one. Conrad purposely grabbed me so his hand covered mine a little. So the big boy wanted to get a little human contact, what do you know about that? I noticed two things immediately – first, his fingers were fucking huge. I kid you not. He had a forefinger that was bigger than three of mine put together. I have no idea why, but feeling the size of his fingers made me immediately glance down at his feet. Shit, I could ski in his shoes! The guy had some of the biggest loafers I had ever seen. I knew that small children could take baths in those things. Giant hands and giant feet had to mean that this guy’s cock was mind-blowing. I was sure of it. This made my own member begin to swell up even harder. I couldn’t wait to turn this man on so much that his monster piece swung upward like some kind of super drawbridge. I loved the sound a big cock could make as it smacked up against a hard stomach. I had a feeling both the size of this man’s dick and the hardness of his abs was going to be beyond anything I had ever seen before. I looked up at Conrad’s face as he took a big swig from his bottle. “I still can’t believe you don’t lift weights. You’re not fucking with me are you?” “No, Demetri. I promise.” “That’s just incredible, man. What’s the heaviest thing you’ve ever lifted, Con?” “I dunno . . . I guess it would be . . . well, probably some of the trees I lift when I’m landscaping?” “You mean like shrubs and plants?” “No . . . I mean . . . well, I mean like grown trees. You know, like oaks, and maples, and palm trees.” “So you mean when they’re small or developing?” “No, Demetri, I mean like when they are fully grown and taller than buildings.” I know my mouth dropped open. I’m pretty sure beer dribbled out of the opening and down my chin. I was dumbfounded. Damn, how I wished I could see this big man carrying a full-grown oak tree. Maybe if I played my cards right he’d uproot a few just for me later on that night. I was reminded of some of my favorite fantasy scenes in some cheesy Hercules films. I was ecstatic because my very own Hercules was standing right in front of me and there wasn’t anything fake or cheesy about him. I regained my composure and wiped my chin with the back of my hand. “You gotta show me that sometime, Con. I mean it. I haven’t ever seen a guy carry a fucking tree before. That would make me very happy.” “Okay, Demetri. I guess I didn’t realize it was that big of deal. But I’d love to show you sometime. That would be great.” Wow, the kid really got off on the fact that he could do something that would please me. This made me go all gooey inside – just thinking about the things I could ask Conrad to do to show off his strength. So the big boy had a desire to please people. That was certainly going to play in my favor. I made a mental note to make a list of feats of strength I had always fantasized about. Conrad was going to be my source of jack off material for a long time to come. “And I’d love to see you do it, Con. That would please me very much.” This made the giant smile. He was truly smitten with me. I could tell. I needed to make sure I made the guy happy in some way. I didn’t just want to use him for my own pleasure and he not get anything out of it – oh wait, maybe I did. No, I did want to make him happy, too. “And what could I do to please you, Conrad?” The huge man’s face lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I could tell that he had never placed himself in a situation to be asked that question. I could also see that he had thought about the answer to this question for a long time – maybe even years. He leaned toward me and whispered, as if he had a secret that no one else could hear. I noticed there was, however, no hesitation when it came to answering. “Would you . . . I mean you don’t have to, but . . . would you let me . . . sometime . . . umm . . . would you let me show off my muscles for you sometime?” It was obviously so painful for him to ask the question that you would have thought I was pulling out all of his wisdom teeth at one time. He leaned back against the wall and his face was white. The poor guy had probably waited all of his life to ask someone that favor. The poor schmuck had no idea that a huge majority of the people on earth would die to have a private showing of his body. I stifled a smile and looked down towards the floor to prevent myself from showing too much enthusiasm. After a few seconds I looked back up at his waiting face. “I don’t know Conrad. I mean, I don’t think I’d want just a show. I’d want a lot more and I’m not sure you’d like it. I’d want to touch your muscles and feel them. Hell, I’d probably want to kiss and lick them some too. Just watching you flex your body wouldn’t be enough for me. I’d want a lot more, big guy.” It was Conrad’s turn to stand there with his mouth open wide. My words had affected him just as planned. The guy was probably oozing pre-cum just from my taunting. I gathered by his reaction that everything I suggested was listed on Conrad’s “top twenty-five things I’d like to have done to me before I die” list. His reaction only encouraged me more. I now desired this mega-muscled slab of beef more than anything else in the world. The thought crossed my mind that Conrad was a virgin in many more ways than just this being his first time in a gay bar. My body shivered from excitement as I fantasized about piercing this big man’s cherry. Was it truly possible that a perfectly formed and untouched god like Conrad truly existed? Had I somehow won the sexual lottery and someone forgot to tell me? I quickly formed my plan of attack to conquer the mountain of muscle that stood before me. “Hey, Con, you look a little tense there. Let’s do something about that, shall we. Follow me.” My change of subject caught the big guy off guard. He snapped out of his desire mode and watched me move to a stack of boxes to his right. This particular bar lined a couple of walls with beer crates as a place of storage and a way to provide seating for patrons. I hopped up on a stack of boxes and spread my legs. I looked at the muscleman staring at me and smiled. “Come to papa, Conrad. Let’s work out some of those knots in your shoulders.” I patted on the top of the boxes in the space between my legs. Conrad’s excitement and desire helped him to understand what I was suggesting and he turned around and leaned his body back so his ass rested on the corner of the box just beneath me. It felt like a second stoned wall was springing up against my body. I felt pinned between two immovable forces. This particular arrangement actually made our bodies pretty equal in height. Conrad was careful to not let his body touch mine, but I anticipated as much and reached up to grab his shoulders. My hands were rewarded with the most incredible feeling I had ever experienced. Now, I’ve been with lots of men – big men and small men, muscled men and lean men – but nothing could have prepared me for the way that Conrad’s muscled traps felt. It was like touching concrete warmed by a blazing sun and covered by a thin fabric. I had no idea if the heat radiating from this big man’s body was caused by his fucking awesome muscles, his excitement at being touched by another guy, or by me being so turned own by the hard solid surface my fingers now tried to grab. My hands did not come close to covering the expanse of the bulging mountains that stuck out from his neck. I squeezed with all my might and barely dented his tight cloth covered flesh. Conrad must have been able feel it a little because he let out a low groan of pleasure, which sounded like the growl of a lion feasting on an antelope. I didn’t let the moment pass without taking advantage of his lapse into newfound feelings of desire. I pulled his upper body backwards until his doorway-sized back came up against my chest. It felt like someone had slammed a huge boulder against my body. This guy wasn’t human; he was some kind of fucking tank. I stopped all motion for a moment to just bask in the pleasure of feeling something so hard, so muscled, and obviously very strong pushed into my body. I found it hard to breathe because my chest and abdominals could not expand much since Conrad’s insanely thick torso was pressed up against me. This inconvenience did not bother me at all. I felt like a thousand tiny fireworks were shooting off from every inch of my skin. Being this close to so much hard muscle was too much for a mere mortal like me to handle. I took as deep a breath as Conrad’s weight would allow me and I got a strong whiff of an authentic muscleman. It was easy to detect the smell of Dial soap and some kind of herbal shampoo. I also, to my delight, detected the light aroma of sweat mixed with something I couldn’t name. It wasn’t particularly hot in the bar, but I could tell Conrad was perspiring because of something. It suddenly struck me that the other scent I was picking up on was fear. Conrad’s body was very hard, yes, but it was also completely rigid from the mere fact that I had pulled his body against mine. A large smile crept across my face when I realized that Conrad had not taken a breath for the last few seconds. The big boy was overwhelmed by the fact that another man was this close to him. I immediately had an urge to kiss the poor boy, but I know that would have made him fall apart. I let a few more seconds pass before I started massaging his shoulders again. I applied even more pressure and was rewarded with a loud exhale from the big man and then another moan of happiness. I leaned in and whispered in Conrad’s ear. “How does that feel big guy?” “Um . . . nice . . .very, um . . . nice.” He could barely speak. I noticed that his body relaxed slightly and I was actually able to grab a lot more muscle in his traps. This increased massaging made his body fall into mine a little bit more and I could tell the guy was beginning to truly get into what I was doing. I suddenly became brazen and took advantage of his vulnerable space. “You’ve never been with a guy have you, Conrad?” Suddenly his body tensed so much again that I could not squeeze even a slight part of his massive shoulders. I just started rubbing my palms around the bulges that were exploding under my hands. “That’s okay, Conrad. Really. You have to trust Demetri. Trust me, Conrad. Trust me.” His body began to relax again and I started massaging his monster shoulders with a little more force than before. I believe the guy actually started purring. We just sat there for a few seconds while I helped him to return to a state of calmness. “Is it that obvious?” “The way you ask that question, Conrad, makes me think you judge it a bad thing that you are experiencing all of this for the first time. Why would that be so bad?” “Well, because . . . I mean . . . because, because I’m sure you’d like to be with someone . . . someone more experienced. Wouldn’t you?” I almost laughed out loud and began to look around the bar for a hidden camera. Was this guy for real? It could not be possible that there was such an innocent mound of muscle walking around on earth. I felt like pinching myself to see if I was dreaming. The hard muscle being kneaded by my hands convinced me that this was not figment of my imagination. My cock started aching a little from the fact that Conrad’s simple statement turned me on so much. “Well, I think I have enough experience for the both of us Conrad. Maybe you’d like to find someone else that is relatively new to all of this. It’s possible that you might not like the fact that I’ve been around the block a few times.” The big guy pulled his body away from mine and then turned his giant upper body sideways so he could see me. His innocent face was unbelievably beautiful and full of some kind of sadness. I suddenly felt a pang in my jaded heart and it was flooded with empathy for this gentle giant. “Don’t say that Demetri. I noticed you when you first walked in. I didn’t think you’d even notice me, though. I wanted you to talk to me more than anything in the world. You looked so confident and full of experience. That’s why I wanted you – I hoped you’d help me with . . . with what I’m feeling.” How in the hell was I supposed to be ready for something so unexpected and completely honest? It felt like someone had instantly sucked all of the cynicism that had developed over the past fifteen or so years right out of my body. I actually felt myself beginning to choke up. I was the Shark for god’s sake. I did not get choked up – over anything. I forced myself to recover from my temporary lapse into sentimentality. I smiled at the monstrous man in front of me and then signaled him to turn back around. My smile must have soothed the big beast, because he did exactly as I suggested. He turned his body forward again and then leaned against my waiting body. This time I slid my arms under his two beefy huge limbs and let my hands rest up against his tight stomach. As soon as my palms touched the shirt covering his abs we both gasped out loud. Feeling the super- emphasized hard muscled speed bumps that lined the front of his body caused my reaction. It was like my hands were resting on ridges of cement. Conrad’s reaction was caused; I’m sure, by the fact that no man had ever touched him that close to his now mega-charged groin area. I was absolutely positive that I could have caused the big man to shoot a jumbo load of cum just by merely running my hands up and down his abs. I, however, did not want to waste a precious ounce of his sweet juice into his underwear. I wanted to save his initial man explosion for my mouth or, possibly, my ass. This guy’s innocence was so intoxicating that I was getting confused about my normal need to be the man that does the plowing. I could see myself offering my tight hole to this muscle god without any reservation. The Shark might have to give into this Orca. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, Conrad. I’m glad you liked what you saw. I felt the same about you. You caught my attention right from the moment I noticed you.” “Really? What did you like about me?” His question was so sincere. It still blew me away that a guy this big and this powerful would need some affirmation. I was pretty sure that Conrad’s self esteem had somehow been crushed at an early age. He was pretty desperate for compliments, but my Shark instincts kicked in and I immediately fell into my typical pattern for building up a guy that was packed with this kind of muscle. I knew I had to work my way up to talking about his body. Conrad did not want that to be the only thing he had to offer. “I noticed your eyes right away. They seemed a little sad, but they came across as excited, as well. I also noticed your smile. That is, when you actually chose to smile.” We both laughed a little and I jumped at the chance to tighten my grip around his stomach. Conrad was so happy with my compliments that he didn’t notice the movement of my arms. The big guy was beginning to get even more comfortable with me. He actually let his back push into my chest a little more. I suddenly felt the warmth and the hardness of his body pressing against me in a way that seemed very familiar. I could sense that Conrad wanted the experience of touching me more than I desired it of him. “And then what did you notice?” There it was – the permission to enter the territory that every muscle junkie craves – Conrad was allowing me to move into new frontiers. I could now comment on his body. I had started with his eyes first and then his smile – I didn’t start with his gorgeous muscles. This had allowed me to pass the test. I was obviously more than just some muscle pig that wanted to see him nude, shoot my wad, and then say goodnight. Oh how little Conrad knew me. I wasn’t that kind of guy – I would, at least, help him get off before saying goodbye. That was the least a Shark like me could do for a muscle stud. Even as I contemplated this I realized there was some kind of blip in my normal pattern. I might have won the ability to move into conversation about his huge body and I was pretty sure we’d be leaving together within the hour, but I felt a knot in my stomach that made it clear Conrad was casting a serious spell on me. I forced that thought out of my head. I knew better than to let myself dream about some unknown future. I returned my attention to the cement wall of a stomach they rested on. “I think you know the answer already, don’t you Conrad.” “I hope so. But it would still be nice to hear it from you.” “Why is that, sir?” “I don’t know. I guess it’s because I’m really shy and not so sure of myself.” “Tell you what, Conrad, why don’t we begin by you telling me what you hoped I would notice.” The big guy went silent, but I noticed that his body did not tense up this time. I could tell that thoughts were spinning around in his head like some kind of wild tornado. I was also pretty sure the guy started to smile. My cock pulsed and shivers shot through my body when I felt a huge hand come to rest on top of mine. Conrad was getting braver. His strong thick fingers forced mine apart and then he curled them around my hand. I could tell the guy had shivers running through his body, as well. I let my other hand slide down his abs and come to rest on something that felt as hard and thick as a baseball bat. I let a gush of air escape from my mouth as soon as I felt his cock. I didn’t move my hand at all. I just let it rest on top of his hardness. I swear the man stopped breathing as soon as I made contact with his dick. We sat there for a few seconds – no movement and no words. Then, after the feeling became familiar, Conrad inhaled deeply. Another milestone had been approached and surmounted. “I hoped . . . I . . . uh . . . I hope that . . . um, you see . . . I hoped that you liked . . . my, my . . . um, my muscles.” Bingo! Houston, we have lift off. Bull’s-eye! I felt like letting out some kind of victory yell. The massive man – although bigger and more built than most men walking on the planet – wanted to make sure his assets were “good enough.” I knew right then that I had died and gone to heaven. I felt like I had just hit a home run and it was time to start my lap around the bases. “Now that wasn’t too hard was it, big guy? I’m proud of you. Yes, Conrad, a thousand times yes. I noticed your muscles right away. I thought I made that clear earlier when I commented on your size and how strong you look.” “Yeah . . . but that wasn’t specific. I mean, I was hoping that you noticed specific stuff. You know, like . . . well specific stuff.” I pulled my hand from his and lifted the other one off of his hard cock. I brought both of my palms up to his massive chest. I realized quickly that in order to lay my hands on his pecs I had to spread my arms wider to get passed his huge lats. I couldn’t have made my hands meet even if I had tried my hardest – the guy was just too fucking wide. I gripped the hard muscled meaty pecs with both hands. Conrad instinctively tensed his chest and my fingers were forced straight and I was now only able to press my hands into his upper body. “You mean did I notice these two mountains of hard muscle, Conrad? Is that what you want me to say. Hell yeah, man. I shot super hard as soon as I saw you stand up to your full height and these two bulging pecs caused your shirt to explode so much that it looked like it would burst.” Conrad’s body shook hard from the excitement that my words were causing. I was getting equally turned on as well. I moved my hands from his meaty pecs to his biceps. Conrad instinctively bent his arms so it caused his guns to swell a little. They turned instantly hard and actually bulged thicker. “And then I noticed your massive arms, man. These guns are bigger than any others I’ve ever seen. Hell, I couldn’t have ignored such big biceps even if I had wanted to. And right now I’m rewarded with the best prize of all – getting to feel these rock hard mounds of muscle. Fuck, these things are so tight.” Conrad was actually beginning to squirm in front of me. I suddenly realized the guy was trying hard not to shoot a load. That’s how much my comments about his body were turning him on – not to mention the way I was groping his massive biceps. I quickly moved my hand down to his giant right thigh. I grabbed the chiseled-as-stone multi-layered sinew through the fabric of his pants. “Your big-as-tree quads caught my attention too, Conrad. These pants can’t hide the fact that each of your legs is thicker than your waist. How the hell did you get these things pulled up over those monsters? But then, again, if you didn’t have huge legs then this thing would look a little freakish, don’t you think?” With that I took my left hand from his arm, moved it quickly down his hard torso, and let it slide between his abs, his pants and underwear until my fingers struck the base of the giant log that was pressing out obscenely atop of his left thigh. Again, all breathing stopped. As a matter of fact, it felt like time, itself, stopped. I didn’t move a muscle. I left the tips of my fingers pressed into the hardness of his cock. I noticed Conrad was whispering something softly to himself. I listened intently. “No . . . no . . . don’t cum. You . . . can do . . . it. Don’t cum, Con. Don’t cum.” I wanted to laugh, but I knew I shouldn’t – for two reasons – one, because the movement would have caused him to erupt like a volcano and two, because it would have hurt his feelings. I was far too invested in this potential sexual connection to lose such a big catch because of crushed egos. I merely wanted to bring Conrad to the brink of ejaculation so he could get a taste of what was to come, so to speak. I was dangling a giant carrot in front of this huge horse of a man. And it was obvious that Con loved every second of it. I finally realized the wave of almost-orgasm had passed and I let my fingers slide down the side of his thick cock until my hand cradled the bottom part of the long shaft. I quickly realized that my palm barely covered half of his long pole. It was, again, time for my body to shiver in anticipation of playing with Conrad’s dick until the early hours of the morning. The big guy started breathing again and I could tell he was oddly comfortable with the fact that my hand was down his pants in a public place. This got me to thinking that there might actually be a wild side to this innocent behemoth and I was sure I was the guy to unlock his hidden kinkiness. “So Conrad, did that answer your desire for more specifics on what I noticed about your body?” “Yes.” His voice was very weak. I could tell he was not totally there at the moment – he was still basking in the sexual pleasure that my words and actions had caused throughout his body. He was definitely still “on edge” and a stronger than average gust of wind would have probably sent him into ejaculation mode. We sat there in silence for a few seconds. I desperately longed to know what was racing through his mind. Was he thinking back on how I had ran my hands all over his body? Was he re-living in his mind the way I described his muscles as I groped them? Or was he focused on the feeling of my hand resting against the base of his cock? It really didn’t matter, either way Conrad was in some kind of pleasure zone that was obviously happening for the first time in his life. I sensed that the nerve endings throughout the man’s body were now back to normal and movement would not send him over the edge. I brought my right hand up to his massive pec and easily found the hard-as-rock nipple jutting out through the shirt. I pinched it hard with the three fingers it took to grab the big thing. Conrad moaned slightly and his body pressed back into mine even more. I brought my face close to his left ear – as near as I could get since he sat higher than me because of his height. “Look around the bar, Conrad. Every guy here is so fucking turned on right now. Everyone in this room wishes they were me. They want to be the one touching your body and feeling your hard muscles. They’ve never been so full of jealousy in all of their life.” I could tell that Conrad was looking around the room. His cock twitched a little as he noticed guys boldly staring at us. A couple of different men in the room were blatantly rubbing their hard-ons through their pants. I was beginning to think that if Conrad and I continued our little show for a little longer we could definitely cause a few wet spots to appear across the crotches of quite a few men in the place. That thought made my own cock pulse a few times against Conrad’s rock hard ass pushed up against it. “It feels like someone else is turned on, too.” “Listen to you, mister, getting a little bolder aren’t we.” We both chuckled. My left hand gripped his cock a little tighter as my right hand pinched his nip harder, as well. This time the moan that escaped Conrad’s mouth was louder and longer. “Look at all the hard cocks in the room, Conrad. That’s all because of you. All those erections are like metal pipes drawn to the magnetic pull of your huge muscles. You control these men, big guy. Really, I bet any man in here would do almost anything you asked, that is if you rewarded them with a chance to see and feel your body.” “Um . . .Does that . . . does that include you, Demetri?” Conrad was able to ask his question between slight moans and deep breaths caused by the action my hands were giving his chest and cock. I was impressed that he could tear his focus away from what was happening to his body to check to make sure I desired him as much as everyone else. I felt a surge of energy rush through my body as I realized that at that moment Conrad only wanted me – no one else in the room mattered. I could see the finish line ahead of me – the big orca whale was now completely mine. “I think that hard thing poking your ass through my jeans is all the answer you need, Con.” The big man suddenly began to move. He pulled my hand from his pants, as he pushed away from me – not, however, before I got one more squeeze of his hard nipple. In what seemed like a flash Conrad was turned around and bent over with his hands resting on the boxes on either side of me. This stance accomplished two things. First, it brought his face even with mine. Second, it caused me to be surrounded by muscle on three sides. His huge arms encased my shoulders and I suddenly realized that his massive upper arms were wider than my body. The top of his chest rose like a mountain underneath his chin and my mouth became dry as I looked down the deep valley between his pecs. His shirt looked much more strained from this angle – at the chest, the arms, and the shoulders. The big man had a huge smile across his face. “How about a kiss, Demetri?” It registered immediately that it wasn’t a question, but an order disguised as a request. I was too caught off guard to notice the slight change in Con’s behavior. I was surrounded by muscle, this huge guy was asking me for a kiss, and my body had begun to want this enormous man as much as it wanted air. I simply nodded my head. Conrad brought his lips to mine in a way that was awkward and juvenile. I actually think he ran his tongue around the outside of his mouth just before we kissed. He pushed my head lightly against the wall and then continued to press his lips hard against mine. For a second the tightness of his mouth and the pressure of his head ramming against mine caused me some pain but then something glorious happened. Conrad relaxed and parted his lips slightly. Hardness was replaced with the warm softness of a mouth of a man who was obviously a quick learner. I could sense that the big man was quickly copying how my mouth moved to increase the pleasure. His tongue began to wrestle with mine and then filled my mouth in a way that made me moan for more. My head went light and I became dizzy as the big man continued to balance sucking in lightly, biting at my lips, and maneuvering his tongue in a way that made me curl my toes in my shoes. God, this guy was a natural born kisser. My cock began to twitch uncontrollably and I knew that I was close to shooting. I turned my head away from Conrad, but he tried to follow my lips. “No, wait, I’m going to shoot if you don’t stop.” Conrad quickly pulled his face away from me. I sat there with my eyes closed tightly and my body teetering between exploding and calming down. It seemed like forever that I waited to see which way my cock would finally decide to go. It was only after a few seconds I realized that I was not breathing. I took a deep breath – aware that the action might cause me to cum – but I needed air. After inhaling a couple of more times I was able to open my eyes and the danger of ejaculation had passed. I turned my head and was, again, met with a huge smile on Conrad’s face. I smiled back. “Good control, sir.” “Thanks. It was hit or miss for a few seconds. That was one powerful kiss.” “I’m so glad you liked it, Demetri.” “I’d say I more than liked it, Con. It made me dizzy and caused me to completely lose control.” This comment made the big man’s smile grow even wider. He seemed like a proud student who had just aced a test. I detected something new in his eyes. Could it be some kind of excitement that had not been there before? Had I unleashed something in Conrad that made him more confident in some way? I had no idea what it was that revealed itself in his gaze but I was damn sure I liked it. Somehow the muscleman in front of me seemed larger. I knew it was impossible, but something was making Conrad appear to be more enormous than before. “You know what would make me really happy Demetri.” “What’s that?” “If you reached out with your two hands, there, and grabbed hold of my muscle-packed pecs. Yeah, buddy, that would make my motor kick into high gear.” Conrad’s words excited me beyond belief. The shy guy I had met at the beginning of the evening – the one that could barely look me in the eye – was now asking me to grab his hard meaty chest like we were in some muscle worshiping video. My cock was aching from the thrill his words caused in my body. I might have been a little shocked by his request, but I was still the Shark and I knew how to take full advantage of the situation. “Well, I’d really like to oblige, you big man, but I think that shirt of yours will get in the way. How about you go shirtless first and then I’ll grope those two gigantic mounds of muscle so much that you’ll wish you never asked.” Conrad’s smile changed – it was now somewhat devious or something. I couldn’t name it exactly, but I immediately realized the man was not scared of my challenge at all. He leaned in and gave me a big kiss. Then, Conrad pulled back and raised his monstrous body to its full height. I had to tilt my head backwards a little to follow his gaze. He never took his eyes away from mine. I, however, glanced down to watch him pull the bottom of his shirt out from his pants. He did it very slowly – as if he wanted to tease me – but I’m sure it was because he was somewhat embarrassed about what he was about to do. That’s when he started pulling the front of his shirt upward even slower so his perfectly chiseled stomach would reveal each highlighted abdominal muscle one at a time. I was completely mesmerized, however I was lucid enough to notice that everyone in the bar moved to our side of the room as if we were on a giant ship and a giant wave sent everyone flying. I knew what everyone wanted; it was the same damn thing that I desired more than anything else on earth. I needed to see this man’s body uncovered and I needed it immediately. Conrad, however, had other plans. He stopped lifting the shirt just at the base of what I knew was an incredible chest. He crunched his abs and moved his torso from side to side just to highlight the perfect valleys that ran across his stomach between each bulging mass of muscle. It was as if someone carved his midsection in marble – that’s how perfectly symmetrical it was. A beautiful indention ran down the middle and four flawless rows of beautiful hardness appeared on either side. It was a fucking piece of art. I had thought that Conrad was a little pudgy at the beginning of the evening, but I had been completely mistaken. This guy’s lower torso made my mouth drop open and my hand shot up, without even planning it, to feel the seamless row of abdominals. I immediately pulled my hand back when my fingers touched his stomach. His skin was hot and hard as a brick wall. I was caught off guard and shocked by how it felt. “Are those abs hard enough for you Demetri?” Conrad’s voice caught me off guard and I was momentarily disoriented. For the first time in a long time I could not speak. As a matter of fact I could barely think. I could hear men on either side of me gasping and moaning as they gazed on Conrad’s astonishing stomach, but all I could find the strength to do was nod my head slightly. “What’s the matter Demetri, are you already overwhelmed by my body? We haven’t gotten very far, man. We have a lot more muscle to reveal. Are you sure you can handle it?” This sounded like a challenge and it caused me to regain control of myself. Nothing can get me focused more than someone telling me I can’t do something. I tore my eyes from Conrad’s stomach and looked him in the face. As soon as I looked him in the eyes I could see that the man had somehow changed. There, in his smile, was a newfound confidence that had not existed before. I marveled at how fast Conrad had taken to my suggestions. I was full of pride at the fact that I had been able to awaken something bold inside of this huge muscleman. I felt like patting myself on the back for a job well done. The Shark still had the gift of helping men to find their hidden strengths. I smiled back at Con in a way that signaled I was still in control. “Bring it on boy, bring it on.” Conrad let out a low chuckle that sounded almost evil. I could sense cockiness being released from his body like some kind of floodgates had been opened. He returned to the task at hand and my eyes, along with the eyes of every other man in the room, moved back to his chest. Conrad had to actually pull the bottom of the shirt away from his body to get it passed the mounds of muscle hanging above his abs. He let the bottom of the two giant slabs of beef kind of pop out of the tight fabric in his hands and it was like some shot off a cannon. There were loud gasps, unbelieving moans of pleasure and I was sure a couple of guys shot their loads just from the sight of his huge nipples sticking out proudly from two mountainous pecs. Conrad let go of the shirt when he got it halfway up his huge chest and the stretched-beyond-belief material stayed in place. The bottom part of those two gorgeous mounds actually bulged out underneath the tight curled up bottom of his shirt. I was sure that if Conrad had taken a deep breath he could have caused the shirt to rip in two as easy as most people tear tissue. It then dawned on me that this was exactly the effect Con wanted show off – he was actually making us all wait for the full picture. He was teasing us mercilessly. This made me so proud of the guy. He certainly was a fast learner. I stared at the two perfect dark circles that surrounded the thick nubs of meat that were his nipples. I actually started to drool as I gazed on those dense chunks of meat just screaming for someone to suck, bite, and lick them into submission. I had always imagined an internal cord running from both nipples to a man’s cock, which is why there was such an incredible connection between abusing a guy’s chest and sending him close to orgasm. Conrad must have picked up on what was causing me to drool. “I see Demetri likes my hard-as-rock huge nips. Want to suck on those puppies for a while, buddy?” I was again lost in my muscle worship. All I could do was mouth the word ‘yes.’ Conrad brought his hands up to his chest and flicked both nipples hard with his forefingers. It actually made a loud sound, like someone was being slapped. I heard two more guys in the room lose control; begin to cry out, and obviously cum in their pants. I’m sure Conrad registered what was happening in the room around him, but he never moved his eyes from me. It was like we were the only two people in the bar. He placed two fingers and his thumb around the big protruding nipples and squeezed hard. I was sure most men would have screamed in pain from the amount of pressure he was applying, but Conrad just smiled more devilishly. He released the now harder nubs of muscle and again grabbed the front of his shirt. He pulled it over his head, but let it rest on the back of his neck. I could see that the fabric, still beneath his arms and over his broad shoulders, was strained beyond belief, but Conrad knew this pose would push his mighty pecs together and upward. His massive chest was highlighted in a way that made every man, including me, instantly imagine what it would be like to shove his face in between those two mounds of solid muscle. I was sure that Conrad could have easily squeezed my face until I cried for mercy between his two bulging pecs, but I didn’t care. I only wanted my face to be surrounded by that hard-as-concrete chest. Again, Conrad clearly understood where my fantasies had taken me. “You want to shove your face between my pecs, don’t you Demetri? You want me to crush you with these two mountains? Would you like to be surrounded by all of this mass, my friend?” It was as if he had orchestrated this entire evening perfectly. Conrad began to bounce his massive pecs slowly as he spoke to me. I barely heard anything he was saying because my eyes and my mind were focused on the incredible control he had over his chest. It was like he had been able to divide each monstrous pec into different areas that he was able to move at will. It was fucking unbelievable. Conrad chuckled as my mouth fell open. He was able to ripple one side of his chest upward while the other side rippled downward. How was that possible? I watched, totally mesmerized, as the big man inhaled and made his upper body swell up so much that his nipples seemed to be pointing straight in the air. The man looked thicker than a large doublewide refrigerator. The gaping valley between his pecs had grown deep enough that his mounds of meat would have covered my hand completely if I had placed it there. As the big man exhaled he tensed his chest hard and I heard the sound of fabric tearing. The swelling of his chest was straining the shirt to its limit. Conrad immediately relaxed his body and reached up to pull the shirt off of his shoulders and arms. “My closet’s getting a little bare because I’ve shredded too many clothes from flexing. I want to save this one – it’s one of my favorites.” As soon as his upper body was completely uncovered the temperature in the room shot up about ten degrees. I felt sweat sliding down the middle of my back and gathering across my brow. I watched the multitude of muscles in Conrad’s arm bunch up as he reached around and stuffed his shirt into the back of his pants. The teasing man then let both of his monster arms hang down at his side and he froze so I could get a full glimpse of his body. It was a masterpiece. I became aware that one guy to my left started shaking uncontrollably and he fell to his knees – totally wrecked by an intense orgasm. Another man quickly ran across the room hoping to get to the bathroom before he shot his load. I could not move, though. My body was frozen as I glanced up and down, trying to take in every inch of the chiseled Hercules in front of me. I could not decide what part of his body to focus on – all of it was perfect. “So, whadda ya think, Demetri? Like what you see?” “I . . . I, um . . . uh . . . I . . . nice . . . so big . . . unbelievable.” Conrad laughed at my sudden loss of words. I sounded like some kind of idiot. I could not, for the life of me, form a coherent sentence. I stared at his bulging biceps - that weren’t even flexed and, yet, they looked to be as thick as trees. Then my gaze was drawn to his wide-as-a-bus shoulders. They were so thick and jutted out so far that I figured he could take out huge chunks of doorframes if he wasn’t careful. Suddenly, the big guy leaned forward and placed his palms against the wall on either side of my head. He brought his upper body closer to my face. The man towered over me and I got a little claustrophobic from being encased by so much muscle. My eyes shot to either side so I could get a look at his bent arms – a stance that caused his biceps to bunch up in a way that screamed of mind-boggling power. At that moment I wanted to see those biceps completely flexed more than I wanted to live. Conrad must have sensed this because he tensed his arms a little and caused the skin-covered mountains to swell to an astonishing size and, yet, I knew they still weren’t fully flexed. “If my memory serves me well, Demetri, you promised to grope these two muscle-packed slabs of beef. Isn’t that right?” I couldn’t answer. His question had caused my eyes to zone in on his huge pecs hanging in front of my face. It was obvious that Conrad did not expect me to answer. He chuckled softly and bounced his chest so both pecs went in opposite directions again. My entire body was as stiff as my cock as I watched his chest heave up and down. “What’s the matter Demetri? Are you scared that your tiny hands won’t be able to grab enough of these monster pecs to have any impact? Don’t worry, man, my entire body is supersensitive and I’ll get some pleasure from your groping – even if you can’t dent the muscles. Come on, you know you want to. I guess you’re kind of like a little kid in a candy store, huh? You don’t know where to start.” Conrad was smiling in a way that both thrilled and embarrassed me at the same time. For the first time in my life I was at a loss for words and could not move. I was so completely mesmerized by the stud in front of me that all I could do was sit there and lust after all his muscle. I was frozen by a desire so intense that it made my bones ache. This was all a new feeling for me. I was grasping for the first time what all those men must have felt over the years when I, the Shark, chose them for my prey. My mind was only filled with thoughts of muscle – Conrad’s muscles. “What’s up with you Mr. Man? It seems like you can’t move at all. Is all this muscle just too much for you? Maybe I can help a little, Demetri. How about I let you feel these pecs and arms up close and personal. I think I know a way to make you really happy. Let’s make sure you get a taste of what my body can really do.” I was completely under some kind of muscle spell but this didn’t prevent me from registering what Conrad was doing. The big man pushed away from the wall and brought his big hands underneath my arms. Suddenly my body was lifted off of the boxes as easily as someone lifts a pillow. Conrad stood up and brought my body into the air even with his. It felt like I was having a dream about being able to fly. I knew my feet dangled many inches off of the ground as the big man held me in his outstretched monster arms as if I weighed five pounds. I could hear the few remaining men around us begin to shoot their long-held loads of cum. I was sure a couple of then fell against the walls and slid down to the floor – exhausted, but joyous, from the ordeal. I then felt my body traveling higher into the air as Conrad lifted his arms more. I could not believe he could lift a full-grown man so effortlessly. There was no doubt in my mind now that I would someday have to see him carry a giant oak tree. Conrad held me in the air slightly above his head. He then maneuvered his hands in a way that caused my body to quickly slide down his bulging arms until I slammed into the brick wall that was his chest. This was exactly what the big man wanted. The pain that shot through my body as my chest met the waiting immovable muscle temporarily stunned me. My face was a few inches below his and Conrad brought his lips to my forehead and kissed me in a way that made me feel like a child. The gentle kiss distracted me so much that I was not prepared when his giant arms wrapped around my upper torso. Conrad squeezed slightly and the front of my body was forced to conform to his hard chest muscles. I could feel his massive biceps bulging into my back as he began to apply more pressure. The intense closeness of our bodies forced me to put my face deep into the valley between his pecs. I could tell Conrad was barely using any strength to hold me in place, but I found it pretty hard to breathe. He brought his face down so his mouth was near my left ear. “Ever been hugged by a bear, Demetri? Even if that has ever happened to you, little man, I’m sure it wasn’t by one as big as me. I’m barely squeezing and you’re having trouble catching a breath. Just imagine was it will feel like when I use all of my strength. Yeah, I just felt your cock twitch against mine – you like the thought of me tightening my arms around you so hard that you won’t be able to breathe, don’t you?” My cock twitched again. The big man had somehow tapped into my subconscious and found something that would turn me on more than anything. It was a secret so deep inside of me that I hadn’t even known it until that moment. I did, indeed, want this massive bear to squeeze every last bit of oxygen out of my body. It was such an intense desire that I could feel pre-cum beginning to bubble out of my dickhead. Conrad’s arms began to tighten even more and this caused so much excitement in every inch of my frame that I knew I was close to the biggest cum explosion of my life. “Yea, little Demetri likes it when big Conrad bearhugs the life out of him, doesn’t he. Listen closely little man because I’m going to share something important with you right before I crush you so hard that you black out. Don’t worry; I’m not going to use all of my strength. We both know that your body couldn’t take that much pressure. I could easily snap both your back and your chest cavity with very little effort, but I don’t want to do that, Demerti. No, I just want to give you a quick little message before you go nighty-night. And don’t worry; we’ll have a lot more fun later on. I just want to make sure you learn a little lesson. You see my little friend; about three years ago I stood in this bar for what was my actual first time. I wasn’t nearly as big as I am now and I was scared shitless. That night you didn’t notice me as quickly as you did tonight. It took you a long while to finally decide I was worth talking to. You were so handsome and so fucking charming. I fell for you in the first two minutes of our short conversation – and I fell really hard, Demetri. I wanted you so much. After only about thirty minutes, though, a bigger guy entered the bar and you became so distracted that you finally told me to have a great night and you walked away. I could have cried I was so hurt. I had to watch you flirt and leave with the bigger guy. That night I vowed I’d go home and get so big that you’d want me more than anyone else, Demetri. I wanted you to desire me as much as I desired you. I didn’t want revenge, I just wanted you to feel what it was like to want someone desperately.” Conrad tightened his monstrous arms even more and my face was shoved deeper into the cavern between his pecs. I was becoming light-headed because I wasn’t able to breathe - and because of my building orgasm. I was searching my memory desperately to remember this giant that was holding me in the air so easily. There were too many men in my past for me to recall the specific evening with Conrad all those years ago. There was part of me that wanted to beg him to stop squeezing my puny body, but the stronger part of me wanted him to crush me completely. I had never felt anything like this before. I was completely under Conrad’s muscle spell. He tightened his arms even more. I tried to inhale and barely got any air at all. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to last much longer – before I blacked out and before I shot my load. “Yeah little man, it’s kind of difficult when you don’t know what will be your last breath isn’t it? That’s what it felt like that night when you left with the other guy. It took all the air out of my body. By the way, I know you don’t remember, but you should know that I’m now more than twice as big as that guy was. That excites you doesn’t it Demetri? What does it feel like to know that you’re now with the fucking biggest guy you’re ever going to meet and he’s about to bearhug all the air completely out of your body? That hard cock pressed against my monster rod tells me you like it, buddy. Yeah, I think you like it a lot. How about I let you gasp for one more breath before I let you feel a little more of what these arms can do? Go on, Demetri, try to inhale one last time. Don’t worry, I don’t want to really hurt you, I just want to make sure you get a good idea of what these muscles can do. You see you’re the reason I’m so fucking big. I know that makes you proud, buddy. Even with your face smashed between my monster pecs and your body desperately trying to get air I know you’re smiling right now. You love the idea that I went home three years ago and started packing on muscle just for you. And here’s the best part Demetri, I’m not finished growing. Yeah, that’s right, I’m going to get even bigger for you man. I’m going to be so huge that you’ll never even think about looking at another man and if you do I’ll just crush the air out of you again. I’ll be everything you’ll ever need and more. I know that gets your juices flowing even harder, doesn’t it Demetri? Just thinking about this big muscleman getting even more monstrous for you. Let’s give you a little more taste of what this body can do.” I was in heaven. I couldn’t breathe and I knew that I would have bruises on every part of my body that was being pressed into Conrad’s fucking hard muscles, but I didn’t care. This giant bear was crushing me into submission. I was ready to give myself completely to this massive muscle god – especially since he promised to grow even larger. I was so completely overwhelmed by his manly aroma, his vice-like grip on my body, and his enormous rod pressing against my crotch and stomach that I completely forgot about not being able to get any air into my lungs. It registered on some level that I was about to black out but I only focused on the feeling of his bulging hard muscles surrounding my body. Conrad tightened his arms even more – and it felt like I was being pressed by one of those machines they use to crush cars into small cubes. I knew, however, that the big man wasn’t even squeezing that hard and this sent me into an unknown euphoric state that enabled me to last even longer than we both expected. I heard Conrad chuckle because I was still hanging on to consciousness and I felt his muscles bounce a little. His bearhug compressed around my body even more and I knew I only had seconds remaining. Conrad whispered in my ear softly. “Looks like I caught me a Shark.” His monstrous arms squeezed even tighter. My cock exploded and warm juice flooded my crotch area. My legs jerked wildly because they were the only part of my body that could move. The last feeling I had before everything went black was biceps so hard and bulging that my back and sides could feel the huge veins that snaked across them. Conrad’s bearhug had become the Shark’s downfall.

I was on a roll so I made another tiny chapter. Sorry they are so small but it seems that it's easier to work with and post them. Close Encounter Part 3: Evolution "Sir, you're holding me." Ben said sofly. Sir looked at Ben with no real reaction other than a raised eye. "It seems I am. Should I not be?" "Oh no, no! I love it. But I just wonder what made you do it?" Ben asked turning to face Sir full on resting his head on the alien's huge pectoral. Sir was briefly wordless for a minute as he contemplated his action before speaking. "I don't know... I just did. It felt right." Ben smiled. "I'm glad it felt right to you." Both of them turned back to look at the ceiling for no reason than to just lay there against each other for a few minutes. "For some reason, I feel connected to you." Sir spoke out loud. "It may be the experiment but I'm not sure." "Well, we share DNA now. That may be the reason" Ben replied but refrained from speaking his thought of "I hope it's not just that but something more." "It might be." Sir guessed in response. Ben did a double take. "Did you just hear my thoughts?" Ben asked lifting his head off of Sir which caused Sir to lift himself on his elbows. "Did you not just speak it?" Sir asked. "I heard you plainly." "No, I thought it. I never said it out loud." Ben replied with a half smile before putting his hand to his head. "Are you okay? I sense there is something wrong." Sir asked, his eyes widening a bit showing his concern. "No, I'm okay. I guess that bout of wild sex took a lot out of me. Just a small headache..." Ben replied quickly. "I just need to lie down..." Ben got up quickly but wobbled causing Sir to jump up with an amazing speed to catch him. "Wow! That was some..." Ben began to clutch his head his body slowly sinking to the floor. "Ben! Are you okay?" Sir's voice resonated through the room joined with other voices and sounds. Ben began to hear it bounce around in his head like an echo chamber. "I can't hear you Sir. It's so loud." Ben muttered going into a delirium. Sir probed Ben's mind to see if he could find the answer but was soon hearing a din of static. The static sound was so loud and so sudden that Sir almost dropped Ben clutching his own head. Sir managed to disconnect himself from probing Ben's mind, picked him up, and placed him on the bed. Sir began to feel Ben's body to check for any signs of other problems. Ben's eyes shut hard suddenly and his back arched. Sir felt the muscles in Ben suddenly tense up and bulge beyond their original size. Sir bent down over Ben and looked directly at Ben's face while he put his hands to both sides of his head. "Open your eyes, Ben." Sir said out loud. Ben reacted with a dramatic shift as his body suddenly started to writhe and bulge. Ben's body began to bend and twist as his muscles grew larger. Sir opened up the mind link again. "OPEN YOUR EYES!" Sir commanded inside Ben's head as the static seared through his own mind. Ben screamed and his eyes shot open wide revealing two black orbs much like Sir's. Ben's body exploded with muscle mass as he continued in his tranformation busting through his clothing. Ben's arms blew out of the sleeves. His back tore his shirt as his lats busted out the sides. Ben's legs flexed and the fabric made a loud crack as his legs bulged out the seams. Ben's cock bulged further and furher out almost a foot before it also burst through, steel hard and throbbing angrily. Sir pushed his mind further into the static staring intently into his eyes. "Ben! Look at me. You need to focus on me. You must calm your mind. What you are hearing is all the interference of all the frequencies that I am capable of hearing." Ben was still writhing but his eyes were now locked with Sir's. Sir searched his surrounding frequencies to find something constant and steady. A ticking clock started to sound off quietly but distinctly in the static. Sir increased it's volume in his head. "Focus on the clock Ben. Hear it ticking. Focus on it." Sir commanded in Ben's head. "Think of nothing else, let the ticking be the only sound you hear." The static began to clear with the exception of the ticking clock. Sir's trick was working. "Can you hear me Ben?" Sir spoke through the ticking. Ben nodded and his body begain to calm itself. "Good. Keep focusing on the ticking and my voice." The static continued to decrease to a barely audible level. Ben was breathing hard and his eyes were less wide open. Sir released his hands from Ben's head and moved back looking at the result of the transformation. "What just happened?" Ben croaked finding his voice again. "A transformation." Sir replied now running his hands clinically up and down Ben's body. "I feel so heavy." Ben panted attempting to lift his arms. As Ben did so, he looked down at them and saw how much they changed. "Sir! I'm HUGE!" Ben looked at Sir with his wide opal eyes and smiled big. "It looks like you became a human copy of me." Sir said as he looked at Ben up and down. "You feel okay other than being heavy?" Ben's body suddenly felt charged with energy and he suddenly sat up nearly colliding with Sir's head. "I feel amazing!" Ben nearly squealed as he looked his body over, flexing his arms and pecs. Ben watched as the muscles bulged and relaxed with each movement. "This is awesome!" Sir looked at Ben still concerned. "You hear any static in your head?" "No, it's all gone." Ben replied as his hands groped his arms tracing the bulging veins. Ben suddenly jumped out of the bed nearly knocking Sir over. "I have to see myself!"

This chapter is graphic in the sense of sexual activity. Sorry it's kinda short. There may be a little muscle growth in it. I hope you enjoy it. Part 2 -- Exploration -- Ben went back to sit on his bed, looking at Sir in awe as he took in the fact that he was talking to a real live alien who was somewhat close to a superhero in his opinion and was trapped here because he had used HIS DNA to enhance himself. "And my DNA helped you become this?" Ben asked. "Yes, it did." Sir responded back plainly. "Because of that, I owe you a debt of gratitude." "You owe me nothing, Sir. I am happy that my DNA has turned you into such a stud... err, mighty being for the good of your kind." Ben backtracked quickly but Sir's eyes widened a bit. "I know you use the term 'stud' when you refer to someone as appealing, especially in the sexual sense." Sir simply stated. Ben immediately turned red. "Uhm..." "Judging by your embarrassment I assume I am correct." Sir added. "Uhm..." Ben started to shake a bit. "I take that as a compliment since that is usually the intent of such a statement. Thank you." Sir said. Ben's anxiety deflating in a sigh of relief. It was then that the flood gates opened. "Do you know how really hot you look right now Sir?" Ben blurted out unabashedly. Now it was Sir's turn to jump back a bit in surprise but quickly recovered. "That is the second time you referred to me in a sexual context. I am appreciative of your positive review of me considering the circumstances I came from." Sir looked down at the floor for a brief period. Tears started to well up in his eyes. "I had friends, like you. I had a family and a life on my home planet like you. It's nothing like that now." Sir's voice suddenly took on a shaky crescendo of sorrow. "I am a giant monster to them!" Ben quickly got up and attempted to comfort the alien knowing that he is in the throes of another emotional fit. Ben also took the opportunity as a good excuse to touch Sir's massive muscled body again. "I'll be okay Sir, I think they'll come around soon enough after they have reviewed the good things you did." Ben soothed trying to say the right thing but feeling like he is gambling with his words. "You don't understand. The experiment changed my body so much to them that I became alien to them as well. My body in comparison was five times as tall as theirs and you know that I am many thousand times stronger than an entire army of them. My population reproduces asexually and by cloning. Cloning now more than ever since asexual reproduction results in many complications for the parent. Those complications are usually lethal." Sir divulged still on edge but calming down. Ben looked at the significant bulge at the alien's crotch. "And you have a cock and balls. Why is that a big deal?" "They had never seen them before. My colleagues were curious, but most found them disgusting, including the Elder Council." Sir was now calm but still looking morosely at the floor. "Then I had the urge." Ben's hands tightened against the muscled alien on the word "urge." "The urge?" Ben asked with a gulp. "Yes. What you would call masturbation." Sir said. Ben could see Sir's bulge begin to grow. "It was an amazing feeling. I touched it and sent waves up my torso and down my legs that I could never describe. It was an amazing feeling." Sir began, his head looking up and his hands slowly roaming his muscled body. "I felt my body, like I am now and felt power radiating from me, and my sex organ swelled as it is now." Ben looked down to see a significant bulge jutting out under the skimpy underwear like garment. Ben couldn't control himself any longer and began to run his hands down Sir's body tracing each massive muscle as he did. "My body was as big as their buildings, my arms were taller than my colleagues and possessed raw power thousands and thousands of times stronger than they could ever achieve." Sir continued looking up at the ceiling now. Sir began to rub his chest with one arm and flex the other into a mountainous peak of strength and power. Ben had reached Sir's abs and continued to slowly rub them up and down, breathing heavily. Ben looked down to see an enormous sex tool bulging up and outward under the fabric and it stretched thin pulling the waistband away from his chiseled stomach. "You were horny, Sir." Ben moaned as his hands continued to approach the alien's sex tool. "Yes, I was horny." Sir moaned with more lust than Ben and continued to escalate. Sir began to reach out to Ben almost by instinct and grope his body as well. "Do you trust me Sir?" Ben asked as he took his clothes off. His breath becoming heavy on the brink of the same sexual frenzy. "I am going to help you." "Yes, Ben. I trust you." Sir's body was slowly bucking the air. Ben reached down and gently cupped the massive alien balls. Sir suddenly threw his head back as his body went into a full body flex. Sir's muscles seeming to explode to twice thier original size. Ben moved his head down to lick the alien's giant bulge when the massive cock ripped free from it's confines on it's own, slapping the aliens torso with a loud thwack. The alien cock rested throbbing angrily against his chiseled abs almost reaching up to his heaving pecs. Sir moaned loudly, his cock drooling copious amounts of pre. Ben couldn't stand it any longer and attacked Sir's cock with his tongue which in turn caused the alien to arch back pushing his crotch to Ben's face harder. "OH! What is this? I feel sooooo...." Sir moaned even louder as he placed his hands on Ben's shoulders pushing him into his crotch more. Ben redoubled his efforts and continued to lick and suck before moving up and engulfing the massive alien cock head into his mouth. The heat of Ben's mouth increased Sir's frenzy. Sir bucked his hips uncontrollably against Ben's face. Ben kept up with little problem as he continued to grope the alien's balls. All of a sudden Sir arched back even further gripping Ben's head so hard it almost hurt as it was mashed against Sir. Sir's balls drew up dramatically and the throbbing shaft swelled. Ben knew it was going to be a massive load of cum. Sir screamed outside and inside Ben's head as his whole body seemed to flex harder. A torrent of alien cum rushed down Ben's throat. Each load was just as powerful as the next. Sir blew at least 20 volleys into Ben before coming down from his mind blowing climax. When Sir's grip finally loosened Ben pulled off and wiped his lips with his hand. Sir wobbled on his feet for a few steps before falling to the floor, his cock still spurting little amounts of cum on the way. "Sir! Are you okay?" Ben rushed over to the fallen alien, only to hear garbled words. Sir's body rose and fell dramatically with his heaving breaths. "Sir?" Sir turned his head to look up at Ben. A delirious smile crossed his face. Ben looked at the alien for a moment before breaking out into laughter. Sir lifted his head a bit and looked at Ben puzzled. Sir's action only caused Ben to laugh even harder. "I'm sorry Sir!" Ben breathed between laughs. "The look on your face..." Ben continued to laugh before making the delirious face back at Sir. "That's not what I looked like." Sir rebutted but starting to laugh a deep voiced chuckle himself. Ben made the face again before more laughter and Sir followed suit with another face. Ben laughter started to wain a bit as he got down on the floor and laid against the alien's solid heaving body. Sir looked back at Ben a little puzzled as to his action, but made no effort to resist. Ben turned his body to lay face up like Sir's, resting his head on the alien's near pillow sized arm. Both of them laid there looking at the ceiling, their heavy breaths lightened. It was when they were calmed down that Sir put his arm gently around Ben.

It was dark and warm in the suburban area as a gust of wind flew through. Everything was quiet. Not a sound was made, animal or otherwise. A single house among them all stood out from all the rest. It wasn’t because of the outer paint or the structure or even the people who lived there. Some kind of energy was emitting from the building as though something was different and unusual to the space. Inside, nothing was amiss. Each book shelf was tidied. The kitchen was well organized. The television was hushed. There was nothing in the room that had power or movement besides 3 things. One of the three things was a lamp lighting the room. The other ones were two men. These two man didn’t have much in common when appearance was concerned. One had dark hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a polo with jeans. The other had gray hair with green eyes and was wearing a coat and slacks that made him look like he came from a movie with old school detectives. His hat was in his lap out of courtesy as he spoke with the other man. What these two had in common, however, was that they both were well built. Each one could have been placed in a catalog for bodybuilder or male fitness as their bodies stretched their clothing well. Though both were aged quite well, they were in some quality shape. “So you did what to him?” the man with the gray hair and hat said to other man. “Hey! It’s not my fault! I was young!” The two laughed their hearty laughs, showing their time of aged friendship. Suddenly, the room gave a quick vibration that both felt. A vase fell off a shelf as the room quaked. The two men didn’t react as the room stopped as suddenly as it had started. “Looks like it’s started” said the gray haired man. “Remember when you quaked for the first time?” This question was received with a chuckle from the other man. “Of course, I shook the foundations! My dad had to fix our lights because they fell out!” They were both laughing until another vibration shook the ground and everything around them. Ironically, the living room lights dropped from the ceiling and crashed into a glass mess on the floor. It would have been an easy fix if some of the wiring connected to the lighting hadn’t come down with it. The two men looked at each other with grins. “Like father like son” ----- Upstairs, things were getting crazy as the room of Ellis Connor shook and bent unnaturally. The room’s space seemed to shift and reform around the boy on the bed. The teenager’s room seemed to pull and push as though it were breathing and then muddle as though it were mud. Still, Ellis couldn’t see it as he slept. The boy was completely unconscious in his deep sleep, his clothes and covers thrown away as his body had overheated. Ellis’s body was also shifting like the room but in a different way. His body was changing from its average, unsculpted frame to something crafted by angels. His once dark hair changed to an intense red. His face was still the same but his chin had become just a little more definite along the jaw. His chest pushed up and out some as new muscle formed down the torso. His shoulders broadened and his six tight cobblestone abs went down his stomach and remained hard like armor. Though the 18 year old was wearing some well fitting briefs, the term ‘well fitting’ changed when his waist suddenly condensed and then expanded a bit. His ass pushed out and forced his crotch up some with the more powerful muscles. His legs tightened and form 3 distinct muscles that could be clearly seen. His calves became more powerful and also lifted his legs up some as his feet stretched from a size 10 to a size 13. Just when it seemed to be over, Ellis’s chest and crotch grew some healthy body hair to match his newly red armpit hair. It seemed to be over until Ellis moved in his sleep. Something warm and strong was growing inside him. It was revealed to be his manhood as his cock hardened and finally tore his now poor, medium-sized briefs to shreds as it grew past its average 5 inches and stretched up to a forceful and proud 10. With that, everything came to halt as Ellis awoke with a start, his once brown eyes recolored in blue blue. His body was sweat covered as he looked around and then down to view his new body. Everything was tight and powerful looking as Ellis looked at his form. His cock was now dripping precum as he viewed the results of his sleep but he had no time to admire it all as his door flew open and a dark haired, middle aged and well built man walked in with a smile on his face. “DAD?!” “Congratulations on your first quake, son!” ----- This is really short but I swear it'll mean something soon!

Here is the first part, The Extreme Makeover: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2699-the-extreme-makeovermy-best-friends-party/ Groaning as he feels the liquids flowing through him, the big brute continues to push all of his weight down on the defenseless man trying to conjure up the growth from within him to commence. His breathing gets shallower as he gets closer to losing consciousness. Deveraux can sense it starting as he pulls his cock out of the motionless man’s mouth and grunts a few times before speaking again. ‘Yeah come on man! I want to feel it come out of you. FUCKING GROW MAN! Make me fucking cum without touching myself, I love watching and feeling hot muscle as it expands. You can’t stop it, it has to happen now or you won’t survive.’ Loud crunching sounds start coming from beneath Deveraux’s ass as Joe’s broken legs begin to forge together from their carnage. He cries out in agony as his body starts to repair itself before igniting an incredible growth process. More popping sounds emanate from the bones in his broken arms. Deveraux reaches down to grip them holding him in place. His cock throbs as it lightly dribbles precum onto him again. He looks Joe in the eyes and tries to keep him from panicking. ‘Look at me runt…..just focus your attention on my incredible body and let yourself go. You can’t stop it now because it is already changing who you are. *can feel Joe’s body trying to expand but is noticing some kind of interference* Stop resisting…..you are prolonging it if you try to fight. Let that motherfucking beast out of that puny body. I can feel it trying to get out. *Joe’s legs shake violently* LET GO MAN! Your legs are desperately trying to free themselves from this prison.’ ‘NOOOO, OH GAWD……*stretch*……PLEASE…..*legs are reacting as it moves into his crotch* NO! NO! NO! *balls bounce and begin inflating* ACK!’ Joe can feel his ballsac stretching to its limits trying to contain his growing testicles. He moans longingly feeling them filling with cum by his overactive prostate. The giant sitting on top of him can sense a difference finally coming over the helpless man. He lightly rubs his dripping cock on Joe’s chin and slowly grinds on his crotch with his huge glutes. The sensation from this makes the small man’s cock start growing and arches directly at Deveraux’s hole. The giant feels the man’s pants tenting as the growing penis continues swelling and lengthening. ‘OHH YEAH! You want to fuck me little man? Give me all you got then.’ Joe’s quads, hams, and calves start to widen outwards making Deveraux growl waiting for them to explode through the fabric of his pants. He can feel the little man’s growing pole ripping the fabric in his underwear and pants before it goes sailing up inside him making him roar in delight as he tenses his muscles and glutes feeling it rubbing his insides. Joe moans deeply watching the giant’s chest and arms flex and strain as the veins pulse and drip with perspiration. ‘FUCK ME MAN! Become the gawd you were always meant to be. *can feel Joe’s stomach inflating* YES! FUCKING GROW FOR ME! *sees the buttons straining to hold on* RIP THAT MOTHERFUCKER OPEN! *three buttons go flying as his growing stomach emerges* OHH FUCKING YEAH!’ Joe thrusts unconsciously inside the giant unable to really feel anything in his legs anymore. Deveraux can feel the growing man’s legs getting ready to burst through as the seams begin slowly ripping. He howls in laughter seeing the sheer power starting to take over Joe’s body. Joe’s feet are tearing their way out of his shoes as his thickening calves and ankles destroy his socks. His chest heaves up and down as his pecs start inflating which catches the eye of his eager partner. ‘OH MY GAWD MAN! You are really going to set me off…..destroy that fucking shirt and I will shower your muscles with tons of muscle building protein.’ ‘I……can’t……breathe……uhhh……*feels his pecs stretching and pulling on his undershirt underneath his jacket* ahhh…..*his nipples are now visible through the fabric*……so…..much……pressure.’ Deveraux squirts a stream of precum on top of Joe’s jacket and under his chin and neck. He moans loudly feeling Joe’s legs finally emerge through his pants as well as his throbbing horse cock which quickly destroys his underwear and exposes his tennis ball-sized testicles. The man’s round stomach is now forming a huge set of misshapen abdominals which are now rubbing against the behemoth’s ballsac massaging them over and over again and setting the goliath on fire as he reaches down and feels their incredible power against his fingers. The growing man’s undershirt rips finally as loud shredding noises echo throughout the elevator shaft. Joe’s shoulders, traps, and arms begin ripping their way through the fabric as Deveraux grunts loudly feeling the cum start to race into his cock. He sprays both emerging pectorals with his jizz as he looks Joseph directly in the eyes and can see the change in his demeanor. Instead of fear now, he is embracing the growth whole-heartedly as he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out to swallow the jets of cum as they go down his throat. The load accelerates his growth as his clothing is no match for the bloated muscles now taking him over. He grunts feeling his back and lats busting numerous seams as they quickly break free. His pecs swell so fast that they make loud stretching noises. He moans loudly as his nipples double in size and tighten as the air hits them. His shoulders and traps continue growing as his arms begin looking like giant tree trunks. The roadmap of veins covers both arms and sit on top of what could be described as two cantaloupes. Deveraux barely finishes cumming before he realizes that he is going to be dwarfed by the giant growing beneath him. His asshole is being stretched much wider by the python growing inside him which prompts him to try to get off of it. ‘OH FUCK! *trying to pull the giant pole out* PLEASE MAN……*feels the huge cock spilling inside him*……WHAT THE……*feels himself growing again*……OHHH FUCKKK YEAHHHH! *voice deepens as he grows with Joe*’ The weight of the two behemoths is becoming unbearable for the elevator as it creaks under them. They both start laughing hysterically as they continue fucking. At nearly a half-ton, the two men can’t seem to stop having sex as they change positions and fuck each other interchangeably growing bigger than they were before. Once they get to 1500 pounds combined, the elevator falls and hits the ground sending the two engorged giants into the steel floor. Their sheer size does little damage to themselves as they lay there still interlocked and continue to laugh in their deep manly voices. After a few minutes longer, they stop fucking and look at each other. Deveraux makes a proposition to Joseph. ‘HEY! YOU KNOW WHAT WE SHOULD DO? WE SHOULD KNOCK THIS BUILDING DOWN JUST TO SEE IF WE CAN BIG FUCKER!’ Noticing that they have already caused cracks in the foundation of the building, Deveraux manages to crawl over to the side of the shaft and get up onto his feet again. However when he puts his arm on the the wall, it starts to buckle and causes debris to fall from the ceiling which of course makes Joseph laugh as it hits his enormous buddy in the head. Joe picks himself up by placing his arms over the sides of the crater they created from the fall and lifts himself up on to his feet. The ground nearly swallows him up as he does so. He then turns to stare down his equally imposing partner and starts charging at him which barely gives Deveraux time to counter. Joe jumps in the air as the two behemoths go flying through the wall and out a pair of glass windows. They land in the nearby parking lot and destroy a large chunk of the concrete as another crater forms. The aftershocks from this are rolling up the building which prompts several windows to crack and shatter. The two hulks can see that their bulk is causing this kind of destruction which immediately gets a rise out of Deveraux whose cock is now standing completely up now. He moans watching shards of glass cascade from the multiple-storied skyscraper on to the ground in front of him. He turns to Joe and slaps his cock on his side which makes the other giant grab it and stroke it roughly. The sensation sends him into a fury which naturally leads to more jizz flying out of his cockhead. The white flood covers Joe’s chest and drips down into the asphalt. Deveraux points his massive fingers in the direction of the structure. ‘OHH FUCK YEAH MAN, WHY DON’T YOU GO BACK OVER THERE AND FINISH WHAT WE STARTED. THEN YOU WILL REALLY OPEN THE FLOODGATES IN MY COCK!’ Joe smiles and starts bouncing around trying to get enough momentum to go barreling through the front entrance of the sports company; the shockwaves cause more cracks to form on the sides of the building. Deveraux’s deep gravelly voice rumbles as he pinches his nipples and rubs his chest anticipating the destruction that is about to happen. He can hear the giant muscle gawd inside knocking down beams as sections of the building start to crumble. The sight of this sends the massive stud into a wave of ecstasy as he shoots several more ropes of cum into the air. He watches another part of the building collapse before Joe comes rushing out the front entrance again waddling from side to side. Once he clears it, the rest of the building collapses leaving nothing behind but a giant mountain of steel, concrete, and wood. Joe returns to where Deveraux is standing with his immense tool and quickly latches his mouth around it pumping and sucking it with all of his might. This of course prompts another wave of cum to go flying all over Joe’s immense frame and inside him. The huge man surges in size once again surpassing a half-ton himself and rising quickly. He grabs Deveraux by the arm and immediately places the massive hulk’s mouth on his own immense pole. He looks down at him and smiles before saying, ‘let’s never stop growing man!’

So I havent posted in a while because of my desire to invent new hobbies lately. I apologize for anyone waiting on my other stories but they were all waiting for a new child to be born from my mind. This is the newest story I have but the trick this is that this is not the main story. This is only a chunk of the outer scope of a main idea. I've been waiting to try and write a story this big and, now, I think I'm ready to give it a go. The next part will be the actually main story that goes into the continuous section so, until then, I hope this gives you an idea of where I'm heading. B.I.G.: Spring Break Part 1 “Are you sure your brother isn’t a drug dealer, Troy?” asked Kent as he looked up at the tall building in front of them. He and his 3 friends just stood outside looking at it, their eyes moving from window to door to front lawn as they all were baffled by the size of the beautiful building they were going to spend Spring Break in. “He’s not. He just can’t help being great at computer engineering and working as a director for his company” said Tory, the mastermind of the trip. It was a long distance from Minnesota and what better place to be than by the ocean in Florida. Kent, a freshman in college, along with some other good friends, Davis and Luis. Kent wouldn’t normally have been dragged across 1/3 of the country for a single week of vacation but somehow all of them had been dragged along with their rich junior friend, Troy Roman. Back when all 4 of them had been in high school, the 4 of them had been the best of friends. It was only when Troy had left for college that they’d all started to detach from each other. That wasn’t the entire reason, of course, but it was probably one of the biggest causes for their alienation from each other. “Well, at least we get to live the good life for a week” Davis said. “No jobs, no chores, no responsibilities. Just a big open space” Luis said as he threw an arm around Davis’s shoulders. This remark deserved an agreeing nod from Kent and Troy as they both were still looking up at the clean, white building. The building resembled the kind of house you’d expect a famous actor/actress to have. The windows were paneless and glistened with a sparkled clean that you couldn’t get even after years of polishing. Surrounded by a white wall and a gate, the structure looked like a building one would only see in a gated community. The perfectly white building had many edges to it and was flat at the top, a difference from the traditional rooves one would see in Minnesota. There were several palm trees set around the building that glistened in the afternoon sunlight. The street that the group was standing on was paved beautifully as though it were just recently done. Seagulls and sounds from the ocean came from behind the building. Kent turned his head to Troy again. “Why did you say you wanted us to come again?” “I just wanted to catch up, Clark” Troy said as he gave Kent a grin and his dimples showed. Kent’s face reddened a little and turned away to his phone as if to check his messages. Kent didn’t believe Troy even if he did call him by that joke of a nickname he’d made for him back when they still knew each other like good friends. Kent knew the kind of people Troy was around. His click was mostly a group at his fraternity that so happened to have denied his invitation to his brother’s summer home for the break. Some had made plans already. Some said that they had tests to make up for. Some just simply didn’t want to go with Troy. Kent didn’t personally know any of the fraternity brothers of Troy’s but he knew some of their histories. He’d overheard in the university cafeteria that Troy had been bad mouthing some of the brothers and may have been betting on the school team behind closed doors. Being the guy that he was, Kent was as skeptical as possible regarding Troy’s situation. They were most certainly Troy’s very last resort. Kent could see in Troy’s personality that he would have brought a bushel of girls over them. It was the fact that he didn’t that puzzled him. Kent was red for a reason. Troy was a solid 10 when it came to ratings in hotness. He had dirty blonde hair with a pair of blue eyes that could stop a truck. Troy’s jawline was angular and screamed masculinity when he smiled. When he smiled, his eyes just seemed to get brighter than ever and made it hard for anyone not to trust him. His hair was well done while still giving off that kind of bed head only a perfect male model would have. He was wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up that showed off the glistening, tanned skin on his muscular forearms. The shirt was well formed but it was difficult to disguise the bulging muscles beneath Troy’s tight, grey tanktop. His muscular pecs could be clearly seen and his six pack was no exception. Kent couldn’t resist the 5 o’clock shadow covered grin that his model hot old friend Troy gave him as he dripped sex appeal. Kent was glad he was wearing a jacket that covered hovered above his crotch. His shorts were being mildly forgiving of his big erection as he tried to disguise and turn slightly away. Troy looked back to Luis and Davis and raised an eyebrow. “Shit, you two are at it already?” he asked as Luis and Davis made out slowly and heatedly against their rented car. Luis’s handsome grin turned to us and he gave us his devilish glare. He’d always had that kind of handsome charisma to his face. His brown eyes were flickering with a mischievous gaze past his black curls. “We were nice enough to wait till we got here. Be glad we didn’t have cum all over your backseat” he said as he turned back to Davis, put a finger beneath his chin, and gave Davis another deep kiss. Troy scratched his head like he was pondering how to react before shrugging. Kent always felt that all of them being gay EXCEPT Troy was just cruel punishment from the universe. Troy was probably one of the hottest guys Kent had ever known and yet, though 3 out of 4 of them were gay, he was the one feeling out of place. After Davis and Luis had gotten together in their senior year of high school, Kent never felt like he’d be truly courageous enough to tell them that he himself was gay. It would have been awkward in his perspective. Kent would never live it down. “Well, we need to drop our shit off then get a good drive going” Troy said as he went and opened the back of the car and threw a duffel bag over his shoulder, his forearm muscles bulging. Kent, Davis, and Luis followed suit as they grabbed some bags and also began to carry some luggage through the front door. The inside of the house might have been even better than the outside in design. The wooden floors were polished to the point where you couldn’t imagine a particle of dirt being on them. The kitchen was large and appeared to be stocked with food thanks to Troy calling his maid service ahead of time. The living room was big with a widescreen TV in the wall, crystal tables and stands, a crystal chandelier, pictures of expensive looking modern art, assorted ferns and plants in the corners, and a mini bar placed artfully with a row of stools. The stairs leading up to the 2nd floor revealed a somewhat long hallway of rooms that went from beautiful porcelain bathrooms to well furnished bedrooms all with king sized beds wearing silk covers and each owning another large widescreen TV in the wall. When they’d dropped off all their stuff and went to the back of the house, a pool reached out into the distance surrounded by lawn chairs shaded by umbrellas and a view of the ocean so magnificent you could watch for hours. “Don’t let me go, Luis!” Davis shouted playfully as he spread his arms and started a reenactment of Titanic. “Why would I? You’re one sweet piece of ass!” Luis joked as he wrapped his arms around Davis’s waist. The group all looked at the view for about 5 minutes until they’d finally come to the conclusion that they should see the city nearby before planning anything else. ------------------------ The drive around the city was definitely cool for Kent. He liked looking at other places in brochures for distant hotels and in the movies he watched so seeing it all up close wasn’t that bad. They were driving for a good while beside the ocean and even dived through the streets of the city to scout possible places for their nighttime adventure. After leaving a sandwich shop they’d went to for lunch, they drove back home to briefly switch clothing. “Ok, we’re going out and we’re getting laid” Troy said as he threw his shirt off, dropped his pants unabashed and ran up the stairs wearing nothing but a tanktop and some tight boxerbriefs that Kent couldn’t help watching head up the stairs. “Why do we have to leave to get laid, I can get some ass right here” Luis said as he grabbed Davis around the waist and pressed lips to his. Kent’s jaw clenched watching his friends kiss. It always struck a note in his chest watching people who were together show it off. “Come on, babe, we might be able to pull off a threesome if we play our cards right” Davis said between kisses. “Uh… I think I’m staying here for the night” Kent said as he turned away and headed for the living room couch. Luis and Davis looked over to Kent. “Why? Don’t tell me you’re afraid to meet a girl outside of little ol’ Minnesota” said Davis. “No, I just think I need a good nap before I do anything big this week.” The two lovers looked at each other with interested glances before Luis shrugged. That was usually their sign that they’d let the situation go. However, Troy stepped in, coming down wearing a pair of tight skinny jeans that showed off his muscular legs and nothing else as he was putting on a tight striped shirt, flashing his abs to everyone before it came down and pulled over his defined muscles. Troy threw on a puka shell necklace and threw his leather jacket over the sofa before throwing his arm around Kent’s shoulders and wagging a finger down at the much shorter boy. “You’re not missing out on our first night on the town, Clark. Time for you to show your super human strengths and come home with a Louis Lane. Hell, if we’re drunk enough, we might pull us an orgy and have it out back here.” Kent was going to protest but Troy was giving that look again. Kent’s face reddened trying to force himself to disagree with those cheekbones. In defeat, he went along with Troy’s plan but not under his terms. “Don’t think you’re going out in that either” Troy said, looking over Kent’s blue jacket and his awkward looking white shorts. “You have to show the girls what your made. Go ahead upstairs, there should be some pants I wear that are tight enough on me for you to wear loose and, if anything, a shirt that shouldn’t look half bad either.” With a pat on the ass, Troy sent Kent forward to the stairs and waited patiently for him to come back with his suggestions on. Luis and Davis had already dressed for partying ahead of time and waited with Troy for Kent to come down. After what went to about 30 minutes, they heard the sound of Kent’s footsteps tapping on the steps and they all got up to leave. Kent was blushing as he wore a white shirt with skinny jeans that fit well to his body. His shoes, which were usually the best thing he wore, helped in making him look great as he wore the red hi tops over the ends of the jeans to disguise the extra leg length. All together, Kent looked great. “Damn, we should have you wear stuff like that more often” Luis said as his mouth was agape along with Davis’. Troy came up to Kent and lightly punched him on the arm. “That’s more like it.” Kent just shook it all off as his friends pushing his buttons. “Let’s just wrap this up” was the last thing he said before they were off to begin their story that night. “That’s right, everyone wrap it up or else you’re coming back with a rash!” ------------------------ The city lights were like a decoration of Christmas ornaments across a ground surface below their view. Driving into was like driving into a light show as we went down the streets like all the other night time cruisers. The town was full with night goers looking for a good time. 4 of them were driving in their Jeep through the pool of people going around, checking out their surroundings in a new lighting. It took roughly 10 minutes before Davis and Luis told Troy to stop the car. They were in front of a gay bar with bright pink signs. “Don’t wait up” Luis said as he smiled into Davis’s neck. Troy shook his head with a grin as he saw the waved them off. “I don’t want to see any add ons unless they’re chicks, understood?” Davis and Luis just laughed as they turned and headed inside the bar. Troy and Kent were alone now, the engine still purring. “I think we need to come down with a case of sweet ass, bro” Troy said as they headed to a party Troy’d heard about nearby. Kent was sitting on the couch alone next to a guy passed out from drinking way too much alcohol and letting it knock him out. Kent was sipping hard lemonade with an expression of unknown origin. His face wasn’t the happy variety, nor was it the kind of sadness. It was the kind of someone who’d made plans that he couldn’t make use of. A party with no other guys he knew besides his super crush ex-friend who barely knew him anymore. Kent had to sit there and watch people pass by for minutes on end as he sipped and received an extremely dim buzz. The lights in the room were low so that those couples and “couples” could make out in semi-privacy in the dark corners. It was like a cesspool on its way to a room orgy between horny 20 somethings, people who didn’t know each other, and half asleep drunks. Kent was in the middle of all of it trying to keep composed and unaffected but it was difficult. After 30 minutes, he couldn’t take any more and tried to leave. Problem is, he didn’t want to leave without Troy. He found Troy a few minutes later talking to some girl. It took less than a minute for Kent to notice that, even when half drunk, the girl was finding nothing interesting about Troy as she passed him a “Fuck off, perv” and turned to leave. Troy grabbed her arm and held tight in his drunken stupor. “Hey……. Wait. I’m not…. *burp*…. Done talking to you” he mumbled. The girl shook him off and smacked him hard across the face, sending him sprawling back and landing in Kent’s arms. Kent ignored the shifting in his pants as he watched him lie in his arms for a moment before shifting awake. “Wha?” he said as he looked up to see Kent. “Oh hey, buddy, I missed you.” “You alright, “buddy”?” Kent responded. “Fuck off man, I need to go..” he mumbled to low for Kent to hear. “What?” Kent asked. “FUCK OFF!” With that Kent was shoved and sent sprawling into a coffee table, shattering the glass and knocking over plastic red cups as Troy turned to leave. Kent pulled himself out of the mess as people crowded around him taking pictures for future internet media. ------------------------ Troy was trudging in no direction particularly as he went down the street with a beer in hand and a sleepy expression on his face. Troy scratched his stubble before he ran into a fence and dragged himself off of it before continuing. He ended up turning into an alley way with few lights that was hard to see with the alcohol making him see curvy lines and waves. It was like looking out your car window while in a car wash. Flashes of his frat mates and other friends went through his mind as he thought about all of the things that happened before getting there. He couldn’t forget how his friends turned on him after learning his parents were cutting him off and his ‘girlfriend’ avoided him. He didn’t know why he called her his girlfriend since he himself thought she was nothing more than a bossy bitch. His frat members had turned on him after learning of the cut off too and were questioning if he’d help pay for the house rent this month. “Fuck ‘em” Troy belched before something unexpected happened. A large moving thing came at him like a train and practically rammed into him. Things happened too quickly for him to register. One moment, he was running into a guy who’d probably mugged him the way he hit him so hard and kept walking and the next, he was pressed against the wall by the same man as if he’d turned around at lightning speed and was holding him to the bricks. “Lemme go man!” he shouted as he struggled against the man’s grasp. All he could see when he tried to look up at the surprisingly tall man’s face was a red cap. He was wearing a jogging suit that looked like it was stretching around a big creature. The man was breathing hard as he looked down at the struggling Troy but, if Troy had been fully sober, he’d have seen the fact that the man’s arm was unmoving and unflexed. Almost as though he was barely trying or trying not to press him through the wall. Troy was struggling for a solid minute before he tried to shout for help. Of course, his cry was met with something unexpected. The large man had kissed him and he’d gotten a glimpse of someone with beautifully smooth and reddened skin. The man had a 5 o’clock shadow of black that was too hot to pass up and, as time progressed, Troy began to notice it less and less. Lights flashed in his brain as the unexpected occurred and he tried to figure how to respond. He didn’t expect his response to be relaxing and melting into the kiss though. Troy’s knees buckled as his body warmed up to the feeling of the man’s strong tongue in his mouth. His eyes were fluttering as he experienced feelings he’d never felt with his girlfriend, even when fully drunk. His hands were loosened around the thick forearm of the man holding him against the wall and he fought less to be freed. It was like a cyclone of sex and hormones hitting him all at once as he let the kiss take him. When the man pulled back 4 minutes later, Troy surprisingly still had his eyes closed and his mouth agape as he felt the feelings fade only slightly. Some part of him wanted more but he didn’t know why. The man pulled back and his big, muscular chest came into view as he looked down at Troy with his face still in shadow. Though Troy could make out a grin on that beautifully crafted jawline, he could see nothing else. “You’re perfect” the man’s deep, gruff voice said as his free arm reached down to grab at something. Troy looked down to see what the man was grabbing and his eyes bucked as he saw him grab his pants, pull down, and something came free. He was almost afraid to guess what it was by all the size it owned. It was like a log had grown out of his assaulter’s pants and had flew out to thwack him in the groin too. The man was holding him at the end of his arm length still, more than 2 feet away. The man’s muscles didn’t even tense as he pushed Troy down to his knees and the large log thwacked him in the face a few times. “Suck” was the only word Troy was given. To Be Continued……..

‘Will you stop trying to molest me Justin, I wish I never told you about that story now.’ The curious 20-year-old college student has been hitting on his older 22-year-old roommate for several months. Braxton mentioned to Justin one night while the two guys were in their bedroom after having a few drinks that he was visited by an older man the night he turned 18. He was a freshman in college and didn’t really know anyone that went there. The man was dressed incredibly well in a nicely tailored suit from top to bottom. At the time, Braxton’s roommate was visiting family so he wasn’t around which left the young student all alone. The man showed up at the front steps of the dormitory that Braxton was staying in. It so happened that the teenager was outside standing and talking on his phone. When he finished his phone call, he turned to go back inside but not before this man stops him. ‘Hello there Braxton mind if I have a few words with you.’ With a puzzled look on his face, the 18-year-old stares at the man and wonders how the hell he would know his name. ‘Uhhh, I don’t know who you are and I don’t want to buy what you are trying to sell to me so…..*stops to think*…..how did you know my name?’ The man smiles and proceeds to walk towards him up the stairs into the front lobby. Braxton starts to move backwards inside before he is about to scream. The man grabs his arm and holds him in place. The scared teenager freezes as the man puts his arms around Braxton’s back. ‘Shhh, I’m not here to hurt you buddy, you are ready to graduate to the next chapter in your life. You obviously don’t remember anything about me since you are so surprised to see me. Unfortunately, restraining you right now is the only thing I can do to get your attention.’ Braxton tries to scream but nothing comes from his voicebox. He grabs it with both hands and looks around to see if anyone notices. There isn’t a soul there probably because it is after midnight now. The man takes him over to one of the chairs sitting on the balcony beside the entrance to the dorm and tells him to sit down. The man pulls up another chair and sits in front of Braxton. He takes a few deep breaths and looks the young man in the eyes. ‘Okay…..when you were 12 Braxton, you were in an accident. As you lay dying in that hospital bed, your mind and soul took a journey to a place not many have ever been to before. That plane of existence is where I reside. You were not sure why you had the feelings you did back then since you were on the verge of becoming a teenager. Your soul latched on to me Braxton and wanted to learn what to do next which I was obliged to do. You were unaware that your body was healing with my assistance.’ ‘That wasn’t the only thing I was helping you with either. *clasps his hands in Braxton’s* Your cock and balls for the first time that day started to function in a more mature fashion. You had your first orgasm in that hospital bed and it was amazing.’ Braxton rips his hands away from the man and jumps up. He rushes towards the front lobby doors and turns around. ‘I don’t fucking know what you are talking about man, I don’t ever want to remember that day ever again…..’ The man stops him midway through his thought. ‘Braxton…..you know who I am because you made me look the way you always wanted your fantasy man to look like. You always wanted to be with an older man around your dad’s age because you have talked about it every night before you go to bed. Even now at this school, you mention me and dream about me.’ The teenager goes inside and down the hall before he stops by one of the night auditors. ‘Is everything alright Braxton? You seem flustered and a bit…..sweaty.’ He turns and notices that the man is right behind him, but the auditor doesn’t see him. Braxton thinks for a moment and speaks. ‘I just went on a run, I’m alright.’ ‘Okay, remember that you must be in before midnight though during the week.’ The auditor turns and walks back to the front desk. Braxton gets into the nearby elevator as the man follows him inside. ‘He doesn’t see you. Who are you?’ *reaches to feel the man’s thick muscular chest which strains against his satin dress shirt* The man reaches over to push the stop button on the elevator and pulls Braxton in to him. He grabs the teen’s hands and rubs them up and down his chest as he stares into his eyes. The teen is in awe of the man’s incredible muscles that he feels underneath the fabric. The man’s groomed black fur on his face and neck is exactly what he envisioned in the dreams he has had since he was 12. ‘You know who I am Braxton. I’m your Matt that you have formed in your mind, well at least physically. I can also sense something else going on in your mind.’ Matt lets out a few growls as Braxton hears a few rips coming from the man’s body. His body appears to be growing a little bit as his shirt splits down the middle of his back along with his suit jacket. His thick hairy pecs shred the front of the shirt slightly as they are now visible. The teenager lets out a few moans. He reaches in to feel the hairy swollen muscles that feel soft to the touch. ‘Hold on there buddy, look down. GRRR!’ *winks* Matt’s quads swell up to the point that his suit pants look painted on. The seams rip enough to where the thick hairy slabs jut out the sides. The surprised teen leans down to run his hands along each bump and curve. He lightly moans feeling the thick forest of hair sitting on top of both tree trunks. While he is down there, Braxton feels a lot of heat radiating from the center of Matt’s pants. The big man grunts as his crotch grows thicker and longer. The young teen can’t seem to take his eyes off of it hearing noises coming from within. ‘Go ahead buddy, put your hand up to it, you are compelling me to grow.’ Braxton runs his hands along the crease of Matt’s shaft. The huge pole pulses against his hand as he finally gives in to it a little to lay his head against it. The big man reaches down to pet the teen’s head and hair before telling him to look up. ‘You are the reason I am like this Braxton. My body is what your mind created and is creating as we are in here right now. I know my muscles are turning you on greatly as I sense it in you. There is a part of you that was longing for this day to come. Now that I am here, it is time for you to take the next step and enter into the next stage of your life Braxton.’ The dazed teen slowly moves Matt’s cock around before he unzips his pants and swallows the huge pole down his throat. He sucks on it lovingly making the big man groan deeply. Braxton looks up and smiles as he starts to feel the need for Matt to grow again. More popping comes from the big man’s body as his pants completely shred and fall down to the ground. His immense chest finishes off the rest of his dress shirt as he yanks it off and throws it to the other side of the elevator. He growls and does a most muscular for Braxton as his jacket nearly disintegrates under the incredible mass forming on his body. This makes the young man moan even louder as he tastes a river of precum flowing down into his belly. ‘RAWR! Yeah buddy, you are making me want to rage Braxton. If you continue on this path, I won’t be able to hold back. I enjoy it because you enjoy it of course.’ The young student grabs Matt’s immense ass and snaps the waistband off freeing up the last remaining fabric from his body. His socks and dress shoes explode under the pressure of his growing feet. Braxton moans as he continues to gulp at the big man’s powerful rod as it lengthens and slides further down inside the teen’s throat. Matt reaches his incredibly massive arms out to brace himself against the elevator walls which are now creaking. ‘Mmmmm buddy…..this is about to get really dangerous though Braxton. Stay close to me.’ Matt’s huge frame is now as wide as the elevator now as his head starts to go through the ceiling. Debris begins falling down as the growing man laughs destroying the walls and lights which explode against his hairy stone skin. Braxton sucks even harder and faster tasting the ooze draining inside him as Matt roars in delight. He raises his massive left arm up to grab the cables above his head while gripping Braxton in his right arm. He lifts the young man up with him who still has his mouth locked on to the huge pole residing in his throat. ‘It feels absolutely incredible Braxton. Keep sucking buddy while I get both of us to safety up at the top of this dorm.’ The giant continues climbing up the cables with one arm as he feels his cock and balls getting closer to the edge. They are now swelling to the point that they are turning a purplish-red color. Matt stops moving up the cable to compose himself for a few seconds making Braxton come up for air as the giant’s huge cock bounces furiously spraying several jets of precum down inside the elevator car below them. The huge stud flexes his entire body enhancing the feeling from within while growling in delight. ‘Make me cum Braxton you really do have quite a wild streak from within your mind. It will be the biggest load you have ever seen in your life.’ Holding on to Matt’s waist as much as possible, the student strokes the giant’s cock in a strong even fashion knowing that the volcano will erupt at any time. The monster’s massive legs and quads move with the rhythm as they thrust faster with each stroke. Matt starts to climb upwards again feeling the tension from inside his balls building up again as his testicles cannot grow anymore otherwise they will rip through the sack. ‘SHIT! OHHHH FUCK BRAXTON, look out. I am going to coat this whole place.’ Braxton moves his head as Matt’s piss slit stretches to its limits before launching a giant wave of cum fifty feet into the air before it lands onto the nearby tunnel wall. The giant continues swiveling his lower body still able to hold on to the cable as his body pours sweat down on to the lower elevator car. Yet another giant stream of cum goes flying from Matt’s huge cock and finds its way down at the bottom of the tunnel. Braxton now moves back into the huge pole’s path and awaits the third jet as he opens his mouth. Matt roars in laughter still thrusting his quads in the eager young man’s face. ‘You want this kind of power too don’t you buddy…..yeah I know you do…..I have always known that you wanted this. Well you will get your wish Braxton, open wide little man!’ The student sticks his tongue out as another huge jet of cum hits him in the face and coats his shirt and pants. He locks his mouth on top of the huge pole and chokes as the cum continues to shoot out of the giant’s cock and down Braxton’s chest and lower body. Matt smiles at him and can feel the young man gulping down tons of cum craving what he has always dreamed about. The big man waits until all of the cum has left his body before he starts to climb again. Braxton moans caressing his lover’s immense ass and licks the sides of Matt’s cock getting every drop he might have missed. The student’s stomach is so swollen that it pushes his shirt all the way up above it. He literally looks pregnant. Matt laughs again as he feels the round protrusion up against his legs. ‘I think you have had enough to drink Braxton. Let’s get out of here before something else happens.’ After a couple more minutes, they finally reach the top. Matt busts through the top by putting his fist through the steel and concrete. He finds the roof and looks down at Braxton. ‘You trust me right Braxton?’ He then lifts them both up onto the roof and falls over to rest. Braxton lets go of his waist and does the same thing. After calming down, the giant gets up and goes to stand over his young lover. The student’s stomach remains bloated from the massive amount of cum he consumed. Matt helps him up so he can talk to him. ‘Well, what are you waiting for Braxton? *waves his arms* You consumed enough muscle building protein to probably take this building down.’ Braxton wonders what he is supposed to do. Matt looks him straight in the eyes and says to just concentrate his energy on him. The student’s breathing increases as his body begins to react. His stomach slowly empties as his legs and feet start growing. His jeans split immediately as his shoes explode under the sheer mass that is being added. His muscles make quick work of his shirt as his back cracks several times trying to accommodate the incredible amount of muscle that keeps piling on top of their selves. The young teenager that was there just a minute before is completely gone now as Braxton matures right in front of Matt’s eyes. The big young stud roars in ecstasy as he feels completely reborn. He flexes his massively round muscles trying to show off in front of Matt who just laughs. He flexes his muscles back at Braxton as they both grunt at each other. The roof creaks under their feet as they take a few huge steps around. Matt eventually gets behind his young lover and wraps his arms around him. He then throws Braxton to the ground and starts wrestling him. They grunt and groan rubbing their slick hairy muscled bodies together until they eventually just decide to stop. After a few minutes, Matt moves down to his partner’s lower body and starts to toy with Braxton’s thick meaty cock. ‘You worked me over really well Braxton, now it is my turn buddy.’ After being edged by Matt several times the young behemoth finally launches his cum volcano into the air as it floats over the side of the building and coats several of the dorm student’s cars. Braxton quickly moves himself to the edge of the building and shoots several more jets of cum hitting nearby streets and sidewalks. They both laugh hysterically until Braxton finishes cumming. Matt puts his arm around his young lover and kisses his lips. They embrace each other and moan as they calm down. ‘Well that’s it buddy. I’ve done all I can do for you at this point, but I will be back soon don’t you worry.’ Matt vanishes a few seconds later. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ‘Are you fucking serious Braxton? I mean…..I knew that you nearly died and all but this Matt guy just sounds like some kind of fantasy.’ ‘And I would agree with that assessment Justin, but he is very real. He helped me learn how to control it after that night. It wasn’t the only time we were together either.’ Justin tries to rub his roommate’s crotch again which makes Braxton quite irritable. ‘DAMNIT JUSTIN! I am not going to grow for you. I am not Bruce Banner it doesn’t work that way.’ ‘So what triggers it then?’ Braxton knows what he is trying to do and doesn’t go for it. ‘HA! nice try there genius, but no clues.’ Justin finally gets up from Braxton’s bed and moves over to the bathroom to strip naked. His 10” cock is wet with precum which prompts the college student to rub it up and down his shaft to make it shiny. Braxton stares intently at it and is dumbfounded as to why he never saw Justin’s huge cock before. ‘Uhh Justin, I had no idea that you were so…..wow endowed.’ He can start to feel himself heating up quickly too. Before he can even try to control himself, his body starts to react. Justin can see the discomfort he is in and walks back over to him. He grins at Braxton and bounces his cock at him. ‘So you want this do you man? This is going to be fucking awesome.’ Once he stands directly in front of Braxton’s face, he slaps his cock on his roommate’s face and chest and watches in amazement as his gifted older roommate’s growing muscles rip, shred, and tear their way through his clothes and continue growing to unimaginable heights. Never in his wildest dreams did Justin think that this improbable story was true, but now he knows that Braxton’s near-death experience brought with it a powerful gift. In case you want to read another installment in the series: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3467-the-other-side-of-the-mirror/

Previous chapters: "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - Inside Zaftig's Lab: The Musclemen Revealed "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable appetite to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his ever-growing need to receive equal doses of both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Chapter 9: Good for Morale, Continued Oral was hardly uncommon in the compound. In fact, Moster encouraged it. And Zaftig was fascinated by the men’s hunger for it, though he never took part. Not long after starting a P21 protocol, each man had developed insatiable an insatiable need to suck and be sucked. Cocksucking was therefore more than just a healthy release for the men: it was now mandatory. And though none of them would acknowledge themselves to be 100% gay, part of their acceptance into the program relied on each man’s private original tendencies towards pansexuality, boosted as they were by the behavioral blockers of P21. Over the years, each of the bodybuilders in Project Herculaneum had at one time or another sucked every other bodybuilder’s cock to full release many dozens of times. Often it happened in the showers after training, but sometimes it was after meals, as well. And as all were superlatively endowed with astonishing penises of uncommon weight, size, length, beauty and girth, no one was disappointed. Even Abdul Karim took part, much to the surprise of everyone. Though he never talked about it, even appearing bored, the more observant men noted a gleam in his eye each time he bent to service Gunst. Oral was against the rules on rest days. By the time training days came around again, the musclemen were already laughing, slapping each other on the backs during meals, and smacking their lips in anticipation. Fucking was another matter. All the men had been vaccinated against the virulent STDs that had long ravaged the world, and were now immune to any infection, their antibodies remorselessly attacking any invader. Butt fucking was an art. The soldiers were all equipped with powerful machines, all endowed with superb glutes, and all highly in touch with the pure waves of pleasure broadcast by their sensitive prostates. Good muscle butt fucking was serious stuff. As all the men were huge, heavy, and powerfully strong, it was like heavy lifting crossed with pure animal pleasure: one bull fucking another bull. Vigorously. Group fucks of spirited, high-energy muscle daisy chains were a once-a-month event, seriously organized and generally preserved on video for the records. Wearing full black leather masks in order to remain as anonymous as possible, and with deep black satin robes covering their individually distinctive bodies, the men gathered in the dimmed mess hall and connected their dicks to the next asshole in a line-up deliberately arranged by Moster. Muscle worship was not part of the evening. The point was prostate manipulation and bonding. Still, private fucking was not discouraged. A few of the men had distinct preferences for one another as fuck buddy, even as the cocksucking was group-wide and free-for-all. Of course, Schumacher had been fucking them all for years – except for Karim, of course. Apart from the daisy-chain sessions, no one dared to even approach Killer Karim from the rear - if he valued his teeth, that is. But so far, as far as he knew, no one man in particular had privately fucked Joe Tiffany – apart from the scheduled group daisy-chain fucks, where Moster was careful to make sure that the connections varied from session to session. Schumacher had fucked him just once in a group session, although as always as always he was masked and gowned. He could see through Tiffany’s mask that his eyes were rolling back in his head in pleasure, and Schumacher wasn’t sure Tiffany knew who he was. He knew it was Joe Tiffany’s muscular rear he was fucking, however, sliding up and down his supercharged big cock. That butt was pure, beautiful gold, a magically shaped combination of soft skin and raw, ripped power that was mind-boggling in its balance and tireless in its energy. Tiffany had taken charge of the fucking, as he gave it to the taller muscleman in the chain ahead of him, powerfully blasting forward into the glutes ahead of him, and, in perfect timing, also pumping his animal butt up and down on Schumacher’s cock with furiously blind energy. For his part, Tiffany knew full well whose cock had impaled his perfect butt that night. He didn’t share this information. From that night, he had a plan. Another plan, that is. In reality, all of the men were deeply aware of whose butts they were servicing, and who was manfully plugging his own from behind. The men had spent too many hours together in the rec room, on the workout floor, in classes and in the showers, not to be able to instantly recognize and distinguish each of his buddies. The wearing of the robes was nothing but a farce, but still they conceded, secretly further aroused by the spectacle of the volumes of black fabric draped with alluring mystery over each man’s rippling physique. Still, from that night on, Joe Tiffany knew that Herman Schumacher was just the man to regularly plow his supple, needy, bodybuilder-cupcakes behind. All he had to do was train him just a little bit over the following few months to ensure that he was captive, obedient, and would always be on call whenever Tiffany was of a mind to be mindlessly fucked. In the mean time, at night in his quarters his oversized dildo was getting the workout he bought it to do during one of his rare trips to town. He would energetically shove it deep into his butthole, rear his head back, close his eyes, and dream of Schumacher’s likely powerful thrusts. And, as Moster always said to Dr. Zaftig, who wasn’t entirely comfortable with the ritual behind the group fucks, “They need more sex than ordinary men. A lot more sex. Their metabolisms demand it. Besides – “ And Zaftig would say with him, in unison, “It’s good for morale.” Waring was screaming in Gunst’s face. Steve Waring “Come on, asshole! What’s the matter, pansy ass? Can’t you do it? You’ve only done 12 so far, butthead. What’s the problem, 200 pounds too heavy for you to curl, baby boy?” Gunst’s face was screwed into a mask of lip-curling, teeth-crunching pain as he vainly tried to complete the 13th rep. His biceps were exploding. The veins in his neck stood out like steel cables. His face bloomed deep crimson. He screamed. He couldn’t do it. He strained and squeezed and tried again, and his arms froze mid-rep, unmoving, the biceps bulging with 23 inches of shattering power. Suddenly he threw the weight to the floor, where it crashed resoundingly, echoing throughout the compound. Waring jumped back a little to avoid getting hit by the bar. The other men never stopped work, nor did they look up. Moster strode over to them. “What’s the problem here, Private Gunst?” “I – I couldn’t do it, sir,” said Gunst, backing away and mopping his face with his huge hand. Ashamed, he lowered his head. Fountains of his sweat splashed onto the floor. Moster turned to Waring. “What set was he on?” “Sir, he had completed five sets of 15 reps each, sir.” “Successfully?” “Yes, sir.” Gunst glanced nervously down at Sergeant Moster’s twitching palm. Moster hadn’t punished anyone yet tonight for slacking, and he knew it was about time he’d want to show his authority over the men. He needn’t have worried. Moster smiled kindly. “That’s actually pretty damn good, Private Gunst,” said Sergeant Moster. “Waring, take care of this man, and then let’s see him try again.” “Yes, sir,” said Waring. The young bodybuilder quickly got to his knees, lifted Gunst’s pulsing cock out of his barely restraining jockstrap, brought it tenderly up to his lips, and began to suck it deeply. Gunst closed his eyes and reared his head back thankfully. Immediately his cock was at full erection, throbbing and pulsing in Waring’s mouth. On white cap nights, cocksucking was permitted on the workout floor only if approved by Moster. “Use your lips, Private,” directed Moster, “the way we’ve discussed. You know the way Private Gunst likes it.” Waring nodded eagerly and mouthed the young man’s giant throbbing organ. “Pump your hips, Gunst.” Gunst began manfully plowing Waring’s good-looking, All-American face. “Harder.” Gunst pumped harder, and the satisfying sucking sounds grew louder, adding to the din. Waring thoroughly licked the cock up and down its full length, and rubbed it against the two-day old beard stubble of his cheeks. “Scratchy,” moaned Gunst with pleasure, his eyes closed. He plunged in again. Tiffany nudged his darkly handsome training partner Private Lang, who was just finishing a set of pull-downs. “Check ‘em out,” he murmured, winking and pointing. Lang turned and smiled broadly at the dreamily cocksucking Waring. “Waring always was a good cocksucker,” he said, just a shade too loudly. “You have a problem, Private Lang?” Moster’s voice boomed through the room. Tiffany ducked his head towards the pull down machine. Lang went white. “No, sir,” he stammered. “I think you do. Get over here.” Here it comes, chuckled Gunst to himself, watching the intimidated Lang stumble forward meekly as Waring, below, hungrily sucked his throbbing big cock. “Go get your punishment, man,” whispered a grinning, sweating Corporal Lefevre, punching the shame-faced Lang on the shoulder as he passed. Alvarez watched expressionlessly. “Take it like a man,” he murmured Alvarez as Lang passed him. He flashed a hard look at Tiffany. He knew what he was doing, getting Lang on the hot seat. He’d pay. Later. The hot seat. Indeed. 5’-11”, 280-pound Lang, streamlined with ripped, striated muscle and dripping with sweat, approached Moster and stood at rigid attention before him. He saluted. Sighing, acting as though he were resigned to the inevitable task of discipline before him, the giant Sergeant Moster sat heavily on one of the benches. By now the men were all looking away in a mix of nervousness, embarrassment, eagerness and excitement. Lang stood motionless, staring straight ahead in perfect attention, dreading the humiliation about to befall him. “Was something funny, Lang?” “No, sir.” “You don’t find Private Waring funny?” Lang glanced nervously at Waring, who greedily sucked cock. “No, sir.” “What are the rules, Private?” “We are respectful of the need for regular oral stimulation, sir.” “And why are we?” “It’s good for morale, sir.” “Was your comment good for morale, Lang?” Lang was ashamed. “No, sir.” “No. Let’s get to it, Private.” “Yes, sir.” Lang relaxed his attention, gulped, and quickly slipped out of his sopping t-shirt. He squeezed large droplets of sweat out on the marley surface of the gym floor and tossed it resignedly in the growing puddle. Standing before Moster a little pathetically, he was a muscle giant about to be chastised by an even larger muscle giant. Silently, submissively, he bent over Sergeant Moster’s powerful quads and lay prone on his lap. Moster, his fingers twitching, raised his palm. He paused a moment. “How long has it been, Private?” “Since when, sir?” Through Moster’s sweatsuit Lang could feel the man’s enormous penis, relaxed across the top of the sergeant’s right thigh, press against his abs. “Since I had to discipline you in front of the men, Private?” “About two months, sir.” Moster glanced down appraisingly at the beautiful, trembling glutes that lay gleaming over his knee. He paused, his hand held aloft, inspecting with internal approval. “You were training legs tonight, weren’t you, Private?” he asked. The suspense was killing Lang. “Yes, sir, I was, sir.” “Squatting deep?” “Yes, sir.” “Keeping good form?” “I think so, sir.” “Good, Private. This will supplement your workout tonight. Heat helps muscles grow.” With calloused, powerful palms, his thick fingers spread wide for maximum sting, Sergeant Moster sharply spanked the muscleman’s rocky glutes with carefully applied, deeply resonant butt smacks. Lang twisted and turned on his lap. After a few sharp spanks he cried out. “Sir, it stings, sir!” Tears spouted from his eyes. “Goddamn right it stings.” Moster turned to Gunst, watching from a few feet away with wide eyes, his large cock sliding deeply in and out of Waring’s mouth. “Fuck face, Private,” he commanded. “Yes sir!” shouted Gunst. He placed his hands on the back of Waring’s head and pumped his hips rhythmically as Waring, his mouth full of cock, moaned with deep satisfaction. The rest of the squad was watching. Moster could see all were now getting visibly excited. Their jocks were starting to bulge fearsomely, and two or three massive penis heads had popped out of their restraining pouches. “Get back to work!” Moster commanded, and without hesitation, the men turned back to their weights and began to lift again with renewed zeal. Gunst’s huge body shuddered, and a river of thick cum began spurting out of Waring’s mouth and down his chin. “UUUUNNNNNGGGGHHHHH!” he roared. Waring was moaning deeply as the desperately swallowed the pint of semen pouring down his throat. By the time he was finished shooting his load, Moster was steadily applying the 25th blow to Lang’s shiny red, twitching musclebutt. Moster issued his next order. “See that you finish that set properly, Gunst, or you’re next on the hot seat.” “Yes, sir!” he shouted, stuffing his dripping, still hard cock back into his stained jock as best he could as Waring, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, scrambled to his feet. “Spot me,” Gunst said to Waring, and, grabbing the weight, he peeled off 15 perfect-form, agonizingly correct curls. Waring, doing his best to ignore both his own achingly enlarged cock and the yet looming bulge in Gunst’s jockstrap, and with the splotches of cum still dripping down his face, spotted him with as much concentration as he could muster. “1! 2! 3!” Waring counted the reps, filled with admiration as Gunst’s mountainous biceps exploded with power. As Waring shouted the count, Moster applied another heavy smack for each rep to the quivering, deeply scarlet, muscular bottom of Private Lang, who, over his knees, groaned deeply with a blend of humiliation, excitement and pain. As he spanked, Moster called out loudly to the men. “Attention! Men!” “7! 8! 9! 10!” Spank! The man snapped into attention from wherever they stood around the workout floor. “Tonight you will be meeting our newest recruit in Project Herculaneum.” Spank! Spank! “From this evening on, we will now be known as The Twenty.” Spank! Spank! Spank! The men stood at rigid attention. “Yes, sir!” they shouted. “And remember, men,” said Moster, grinning down at handsome Private Lang stretched over his knees, who had tears in his eyes and whose face was almost – but not quite – as beet red as the handprints on his perfect butt, “being spanked by me is a badge of honor. Never be ashamed when I call you forward to the hot seat have your butts whipped. I do not pay such honorific attentions to anyone outside the squad.” Spank! Spank! “18! 19! 20! 21!” “Yes, sir!” Spank! Spank! Tiffany grinned. He had often spotted the quiet, shy, legendary young muscle giant Casey Rockland in the mess, and heard all about his fearsome physique. He was looking forward to meeting him. He paid no attention to the unwavering, hostile gaze of Corporal Alvarez. Corporal Schumacher strode over to him. He glanced over at Alvarez threateningly, who immediately shifted his gaze and went back to work. “You better watch it. You don’t want to piss off that guy,” he muttered to Tiffany. “Who the fuck cares?” shrugged Tiffany. Thirty feet across the room, Moster continued to apply his stern, masterful spanking to Lang’s squirming, rock-hard musclebutt. Lang’s face was now contorted in an ongoing blissful combination of pain and pleasure, his mouth forming a smiling O….. “…oooooooooo….” Alvarez was watching closely from the corner. Even at more than 40 feet, Tiffany could see the Alvarez’s jock was now poling straight out from his body, strained to the bursting point. “I can’t always cover your ass when you misbehave. These men are my buddies. You’re still new here.” Tiffany smiled cockily. His fresh young musculature glowed with youth and health. He knew that since the last daisy chain that his sunny handsomeness and bad boy intentions had become irresistible to the old horndog Schumacher. It was all going beautifully. “I can take care of myself,” he said. He gestured with his thumb to the blank-faced, completely erect Alvarez, who was by now busy with his next set of deep squats. “Besides, he looks like he doesn’t mind.” The mute Private Meyer was now gleefully bent over before Alvarez, holding his ankles and laughing silently, dancing and twitching that magical butt of his just a few feet in front of the man’s protruding jockstrap. Alvarez had to grin. Then he turned back to the squat bar. “See?” Schumacher grunted. “Yeah, I know you can take care of yourself.” Schumacher moved in close and breathed into Tiffany’s face. “ I want to see you later on.” “You do, hunh?” “Yeah, I do, hunh. After the detail meets Casey Rockland, you come to my quarters. Tonight. That’s an order.” “Finish up, men!” commanded Moster, still spanking the twitching Lang’s bright-red glutes. Spank! “Ouch!” Lang cried. “You’re not my CO.” Tiffany lifted a bar off a squat rack and began doing slow military presses. He smiled indifferently at Schumacher and said no more. Schumacher grunted angrily and moved to the cable rack, where he finished off his chest workout with a final set of intense cable flyes. He now had Corporal Herman Schumacher wrapped around his little finger, and he knew it. He wrapped up his set of presses, now purposefully ignoring him, and grabbed his towel. He wiped himself off and smiled beatifically across at Moster. Moster, never pausing in his discipline of Lang, was amused. He winked at Tiffany. He knew he’d get the Private’s butt to himself – in time – but he generously allowed that Schumacher would get to it first. And that was part of his plan. Casey Rockland was the other part. The workout was finally over. “To the showers, men,” Moster called out. The men collected their workout bags and empty water jugs, and filed eagerly off the floor, clambering over one another like puppies, heading towards their no-holds barred shower room games. Even the normally disgruntled Karim had a special light in his eyes. He was looking forward to Gunst’s piss. As they raced out, Moster looked down at Lang, still stretched pitiably over his knee. “How many was that, Private?” he asked calmly. “59, sir.” “Good. I assume you enjoyed it?” “Yes, sir,” he said with meek truthfulness. “Actually, I loved it.” “Then here’s one more for good luck.” He raised his black hand and applied the last, 60th searing red-hot butt smack. WHACK! “Ow! That was good, sir!” Lang scrambled to his feet, saluted, and tenderly rubbing the scarlet handprints on his delectable bodybuilder butt. “May I join the others now?” “Off with you.” “Thank you, sir!” Lang scooped up his discarded clothes and plastic bottle with one hand, flinging his gear over his broad shoulders, standing still for a moment pouring what was left of the cool water over his shoulder onto his stinging glutes. He grinned at Moster. "Thank you again, sir, for the discipline. My butt needed it." Moster waved him off. Then, kneading his iron-hard, hand-print reddened butt cheeks with the fingers of both hands, the handsome private scampered happily, if somewhat bow-leggedly, away to join his sweaty, horny muscle buddies in the locker room. Chapter 10: The Showers Inside, they had already slipped out of their drenched t-shirts, boots and jockstraps, slipped on striped flipflops, and had headed quickly to the showers, and down to extreme business. Lang was eager to rejoin the men. After all, there was just enough time for one more round of group cocksucking, butt fucking, and stress-reducing water sports before they all had to gather in the lab upstairs to meet the new recruit. Naked in the steamy group shower, he found his way to his muscle buddy Alvarez. He fell to his knees as Alvarez turned, strode forward to meet him, flexed his mammoth biceps, and shoved his meaty erect cock into Lang’s gratefully receiving mouth. Behind Lang, Private Gunst thoughtfully soothed his stinging, reddened glutes with a powerful jet stream coating of clear, clean piss. His mouth full of cock, Lang nodded gratefully up at Gunst, who returned his nod with a “Hey, it’s okay.” Lang arched his butt to receive the coating of piss all the better. He glanced over at Schumacher, who was now violently plowing Tiffany’s wide-open mouth with his own swollen firehose man meat. Schumacher hadn’t said a word. He had walked directly up to Tiffany, who swiftly went to his knees and carefully guided his lips over the shaft of the Corporal’s 11-inch penis. Schumacher was facefucking him as mercilessly as he could manage, but the young Private seemed serenely in control. As usual, he never gagged. Which made Corporal Herman Schumacher plow harder and deeper. Which prompted a satisfied smile on Tiffany’s calm, appreciative lips as he sucked with cool detachment the muscle daddy Schumacher’s violently throat-pounding large cock. After Gunst finished painting Lang’s glutes with thoughtfully applied streams of hot piss, he turned to Waring, fondled the handsome young muscleman’s leathery testicles, got down on his knees and allowed him to glide his own achingly engorged member down his eager throat. “MMMMmmmmm, it’s good!” he moaned, satisfied. “Even big boys like to suck cock,” he winked up at Waring. He smacked his lips. “If it’s big enough.” “Is mine big enough?” asked Waring as he rubbed his scalp in the streaming hot shower. “Yup,” answered Gunst, dipping in for another full-throated suck. “Sure is.” All the other musclemen were similarly at work, soaping up, sucking cock, washing armpits, lathering crotches, laughing, shouting, grunting, flexing their muscles, getting their oversized cocks sucked, or with their faces buried deeply in their buddies’ spectacular glutes. In the center of the shower, Corporal Alvarez and Private Lang were going through “Pose and Approve.” Alvarez was gliding through his finest posing routine, while below him and kneeling on the tile floor Lang licked and sucked his huge, stiff cock with hungry appreciation. “Front double bi’s,” said Alvarez. “Pow.” Meyer was dead center in the large shower room, standing on one hand on the tile floor, holding his powerful body aloft, his legs spread wide, one fist supporting his full bodyweight. He arched his butt high and smiled happily as, through the steam and roar of the water, one after another of his training buddies bent over and applied luscious, deep licks into his succulent butthole. He grinned, pumping his stiff cock with his free hand as they licked, kissed, and smacked his firm buttcheeks. Jin and Washington were now each chewing ferociously on Bogarde’s perfect, brown nipples. He roared with pleasure, and pumped himself into a mighty front lat spread. Straps of pec muscle bloomed powerfully. He turned from side to side, proudly thrusting forward each pec. His buddies chewed, licked and bit. Meanwhile, the handsome Blankenship, who had a preference for big black cock, was fiercely lathering up Washington’s enormous pole. He covered it waves of soapsuds, pumping it up and down as it rose to full girth. He glanced up at Washington, now biting Bogarde’s nipples. “Yeah, you got one big black motherfucker muscle cock!” he shouted. “You like big black cock?” roared Washington, waggling it in Blankenship’s face. “Love it!” he shouted, and washing the soap off, took it all in his mouth. “Watch him suck my cock!” Washington whooped. Obatu, soaping his armpits, laughed. He strode over to the group. “Room for another brother?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer, shoved his meat into Blankenship’s face. Blankenship smiled rapturously, and as Obatu continued to soap up, he took his cock into his mouth as well. “Most muscular,” said Obatu. “Pow. Check out dis crab.” Black veins exploded. His fists pumped together. He pushed his hips forward. His cock surged straight ahead. The two black cocks plunged in and out of Blankenship’s mouth, his tongue tracing over their shiny thick veins. The enormous Washington, the biggest man of the group of five, put his arms around Bogarde’s and Obatu’s shoulders, while on the tile beneath them Blankenship moved from cock to swaying cock, from Washington to Bogarde to Jin to Obatu and back to Washington again. Surrounded by the bodybuilders’ cocks, Blankenship sucked each erect penis deeply. He gazed at the network of veins that criss-crossed the hip muscles of each of his buddies. Their huge cocks were like jewels set in the finest of settings: lean, fat-free muscles. When he got to the handsome Asian Private Jin, he marveled once again about how a Chink could have such a huge dick. He sucked it lovingly as the other men stood closely above him, their cocks looming in his face, dripping with water and pre-cum, awaiting their turn. When he finished with Jin, he moved on to Bogarde, whose nipples were being avidly chewed with care above him by Jin and Washington. Bogarde’s cock was, of course, in great need of immediate service. No problem. It was, after all, a world of huge, looming bodybuilder cocks. And Blankenship’s favorite sport – after bodybuilding – was cocksucking Next to him knelt the dimwit Hension, his handsome face now buried deeply into the posing Corporal Alvarez’s glutes. Lang was now on his feet and posing with him, as the dark Arab Corporal Karim, behind him, licked and kissed his mighty ass as well. He caught Hension’s eyes, and, in unison, the two men buried their faces into the posing partners’ glutes. “Hey, careful, there,” said Lang. His butt still stung, and Moster’s handprints were still glowing bright red on his taut asscheeks. “Sorry, man,” said Karim. He gently licked the red hand welts, and could taste Gunst’s piss. He knew the man’s special sweet taste. Gunst had often pissed deeply into his mouth. Chad and LeFevre, soaping up themselves, moved over to Hension, whose beautiful face was deeply buried in Alvarez’s butt. “Hey, McIntyre,” called Chad, “get over here and take over for Hension!” “Don’t bother me,” said Hension. “Sure thing,” answered McIntyre, licking Meyer’s butthole. “Be there in a sec!” “What are you doing, guys?” asked Hension plaintively as Chad and LeFevre lifted him bodily from Alvarez’s glutes, carrying him into a corner of the shower. Alvarez stopped posing for a minute and looked back at them. “Hey, where you taking him?” he asked. Lang looked up. “To the rescue,” said McIntyre, now on his knees and pressing his face into Alvarez’s butt. “Oh, okay.” Alvarez turned back to Lang and continued posing. Karim had never stopped licking Lang’s ass. Chad and LeFevre were now sharing Hension’s pretty tool. “Figure you have it coming,” said LeFevre,” licking away the last remnants of the chili powder. “You guys,” said Hension, and began to wash his hair as the men cleaned his cock with their tongues and lips. Moster leaned in at the shower door. “Good work tonight, men.” He turned and headed toward the locker room door. “Thank you, sir!” the men shouted after him. Moster called back to them as he left the locker room. “No fucking tonight. No time.” “Shit!” Moans of general disappointment. “Sorry. Expect you all upstairs in the lab in 10 minutes.” “Yes, sir!” Once again, in unison. On the workout floor, alone and silent as always, the meek Dr. Irving slipped back into the room and to shut down the lights for the night. From the locker room, he could hear the splashing of the showers and the groans, moans, roars, whoops and shouts of the satisfied men as they each let loose volleys of thick, spurting cum high into the steaming air, arcing and splashing onto each other’s superbly muscled bodies. Thick cascades of semen plopped onto the tile and began flowing slowly past the men’s browned feet towards the shower’s drains. Irving walked over to the garbage pail. He glanced inside. Yep. There they were. He could see them in the half-light. He reached in amidst the wet rags of paper and extracted 18 empty aluminum capsule wrappers. Moster had probably ordered the enhancements from Zaftig particularly for tonight’s workout. He knew that by now each bodybuilder probably had already cum three or four times. By 2150 hours, they would all, to a man, be drained. Except, of course, for Sergeant Moster. He picked up the receiver of the staff phone on the wall, and pushed a button. “Facilities,” he requested. In the distance now, the men were all roaring as one. No doubt they were all spurting in unison by now. Pints and quarts of cum. “Facilities? Yeah. Irving. Right. Better put the plumber on notice. The shower drains in the main workout locker room will be clogged again tonight. They need to be cleared by 1800 hours tomorrow.” He hung up without bothering to listen to the response, turned, and walked out of the room. In the showers, the roaring was dying down to satisfied explosions of breath and more laughs, whoops and hollers. The water was turned off, and locker doors began to open. The room grew quiet as the men dressed, all thoughtful now. All thinking about the new recruit they were about to meet. Casey Rockland. In the showers, thick rivulets of cum dripped from the ceiling, walls, spigots and faucet handles, clogging the drains. It cost Zaftig thousands each month to simply to maintain the system’s burgeoning septic tanks. “It’s just one more thing I didn’t really plan for,” he would sigh to Moster, who would nod, straight-faced. "It's always something," Moster would reply, absently scratching his bulge.

Part 1-The Sexual Chemistry is here: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2716-the-construction-projectthe-sexual-chemistrywhos-worshipping-who/ The Construction Project sequel: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4583-constructing-more-projects-and-building-bigger-men-muscle-genie/?hl=%2Bconstructing+%2Bmore+%2Bprojects Who's Worshipping Who? sequel: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4503-to-worship-or-not-to-worship-another-admirer-enters-muscle-genie/?hl=worship The gloriously hairy Iraqi stud’s massive muscles are eventually too much for his white costar’s own as he makes Dallas submit to him after several minutes of rolling around on the ransacked set. They continue to ignore everything their director Francesco says as he just sits there with a bewildered look on his face. He doesn’t seem all that interested in seeing the two muscle studs doing wrestling moves or trying to overpower each other in any way. ‘Guys…..come on. It was hot at first, but you both are now way too large to market for our audience. I was hoping that putting you two together, my two biggest stars, could result in the biggest selling video ever, but now I realize that you could both model for COLT and not for my company.’ The two huge studs stop what they are doing and sit up to look straight at him. Dallas decides to get up and waddles over to the director to stand in front of him breathing heavily and dripping with sweat. He has a big smile on his face and as he bounces his pecs. ‘And what is wrong with making a hot growth video with some amazing sex thrown in Fran? I think you have always had a thing for both of us otherwise you wouldn’t have waited until now to put us in the same scene together. Besides, you could become a star yourself Mr. director. That pooch of yours could look really hot with some big thick slabs of beef attached to it don’t you think?’ *reaches in to rub Francesco’s belly lightly making the director lean back a little* The director seems a bit embarrassed but also a tad bit aroused at the same time. He pushes Dallas’s big burly hand away and tries to get up, but the white porn star won’t let him. Abdul stands up from where he is sitting and rubs down his incredibly thick hairy muscled body for a few seconds before walking over beside Francesco to rub his huge throbbing cock against the director’s face. The stunned man falls back in his chair and lands on the ground as it breaks. The two big studs follow him down and start rubbing him in the crotch and chest making him moan very lightly. Dallas then jumps back up to turn the camera around and hits the record button on it. He returns down with the other two men and rubs his cock up against Francesco’s face and slaps Abdul’s cock as well. The director can’t resist any longer as he grabs both rods and starts licking them both tasting the sweet precum oozing out both cockheads. The two behemoths growl and start making out with each other while Francesco shoves his tongue down inside the arab’s foreskin, chewing it slowly and moaning deeply. Abdul’s incredibly thick furry body is something the director always loved, but never acted on it before because he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the way the man acted around him. Feeling like he is being neglected, Dallas shoves his cock in the side of Francesco’s mouth and starts humping it, gliding it in and out with a slow and steady rhythm. The director gags as Abdul follows suit by shoving his thick hairy pole down inside Francesco’s mouth as they both fuck his throat at the same time making him have to drool huge strings of spit. The juices drip down both cocks making them both grunt loudly. Francesco rubs it up and down both shafts at the same time to get them nice and lubed since he knows that both men don’t want him to stop sucking as they hump his mouth. He watches intently as both ballsacs begin swelling up in front of his face and changing to a blue color. He moans loudly knowing that he will get a cum bath within a short amount of time. He pulls both rods out to run his tongue along their slits and can taste some of their pre starting to change over to cum. He stops sucking them interchangeably long enough for them both to groan as their poles start pumping their seed all over Francesco’s face and head. The thick gooey wads paint his face in white as he gasps for air feeling the seed river trying to seep its way inside him. The huge studs shove their cocks back inside his mouth and continue dumping their loads down his throat until they are completely depleted. When they finally pull out of him, he chokes several times losing some of it on the floor before trying to get up from the ground to catch his breath. He is finding it very difficult to do so however as Abdul reaches down to pick him up and carry him over to the ravaged set. Dallas spins the camera around still recording so he can join them. Abdul puts him down to grab some sheets that are lying to the side still in decent condition even after the two studs destroyed the bed. He finds an empty area and lays them on the ground so he can get down on the floor. ‘Dallas, go make sure the camera is positioned on us. *gets down on the sheet and looks up at Francesco* Come down here Fran and worship me man so I can fucking watch you transform into one of us. You won’t have to be sitting in a chair anymore after this film, I guarantee it.’ Dallas rushes over and points the camera at them before going back to join the other two. He starts to take Francesco’s shoes off, but Abdul motions for him to stop. The director immediately starts to bury his head into Abdul’s chest and moans deeply as he loses himself in the hot arab’s musk and masculinity. The hairy stallion looks over at Dallas and smiles. The white stud isn’t quite sure why he isn’t allowed to take anything off Francesco, but is willing to just let it be since there must be a reason. It isn’t long before the two behemoths can hear the director wincing. His body starts sweating profusely underneath his clothes which prompts the two men to growl knowing it is close to happening. Francesco stops licking Abdul’s body to look up at him in anguish. The big man grins. ‘RAWR FRAN! Fucking blow up for us man! You have double the power inside you so you should absolutely explode.’ The director is unable to utter a word as he feels himself starting to grow. His body starts flexing immediately putting a lot of stress on his clothes. His shirt shreds down his back getting the attention of both behemoths as they can see the muscles doubling up on each other. Within seconds, his entire outfit is being obliterated by mounds of sheer steel stretching and pulling his body bigger and wider than ever before. Francesco is getting noticeably more dominant with each additional inch of muscle being added. He goes into gawd mode roaring with excitement feeling himself changing into a new man. *still growing* ‘MORE! MORE! FUCKKK!’ *passes 400 pounds* Both Abdul and Dallas grab a hold of his new 16” dong and starts drinking the honey that is pouring out of it. The giant though scurries backwards away from them to stop them from trying to swallow any more of it. He manages to get up onto his feet before they both try to tackle him back down. He manages to push them away from him as he finishes his growth cycle. He is now trying to escape from them to prevent the possibility of them outgrowing him. ‘NOOO! *voice is noticeably deeper* You are both trying to get the upper-hand on me like before. Stay the fuck away from me! I swear I will hurt both of you and I don’t want to do that because…..you are right Abdul, I like you a lot, but this fucking body *rubs his chest as he continues to move backwards*, I have to stay bigger than you.’ He continues to leak his precum all over the ground as he finds a wall in behind the rubble from the set. Abdul tries to grab a hold of his legs and pull him down but gets kicked in the process. Dallas tries to follow in behind and shoves a hand up inside the hole of the hulking brute. Francesco agonizes as he starts punching the wall and cracking it until pieces start falling all around him. Dallas tries to get underneath his cock to catch the honey flowing, but gets a warning. ‘AHHHH please don’t Dallas…..I will pound you if you keep trying to make me cum.’ Francesco’s rage grows deeper as he pounds the wall in until it finally gives way and hits the white giant on the back as it starts crashing to the ground. Dallas accidentally pulls his hand out of the director’s anus and watches in disgust as the behemoth starts to waddle away from him through the wall opening. He can’t seem to get up from where he is now sitting and leans up against a pile of rubble. Abdul though runs past him and jumps through the opening to chase after the hulk. He starts yelling at him to get his attention. ‘HEY FRAN! I’M COMING TO GET YOU BIG STUD! YOU MIGHT BE BIGGER, BUT I CAN DEFINITELY OUTRUN YOU!’ The thick arab picks up speed as he closes the gap on the director down a nearby alley in the middle of the city. He can see Francesco stop to catch his breath and makes his move placing all of his power into his immense legs. Before the giant hulk can start running again, Abdul grabs him around the waist and pulls him down to the ground. Both men are sweating buckets practically as they lay there exhausted. Abdul gets on top of him and laughs as he punches the hulk’s chest in a dominant manner . ‘I told you…..*pants*……I would catch you……*pants*……now fuck me like you have always wanted to Fran. No resistance…..*pants*……no qualms…..*pants*…..I know you want to fill me up badly. You say you don’t want me to grow again…..*pants*……but I fucking know otherwise. *winks*’ He grabs the director’s massive dick and slowly slides it inside his hole. He hops on it a few times as it gets it further inside before he begins humping the hulk and punching him in the chest again like he was doing. With their insatiable desire not dissipating anytime soon, the process could continue indefinitely.